Ragman, page 20
At the bottom of the first page, she’d found a story from Vermont, about a headmaster of a private boys’ school being found hacked to pieces in his house. And near the end, a mention that it was the second such murder at the school in a week. The other one being a student. Whose roommate just happened to be Peter Gordon.
Anticipation sending her pulse rocketing, Joanna checked Henry Gordon’s file. Sure enough, he had a son, Peter, age sixteen.
Depression, booze, and coffee all forgotten, she looked up the number for the Stowe crime scene lab and called the director’s office. When the admin answered, Joanna gave a fake name and introduced herself as a senior CSU from Manhattan with some questions about a case.
You’ve already been fired, she thought, while waiting for the director to come on. What more can they do if you get caught?
“This is Dr. James,” a deep voice said.
“Hi.” Joanna stuck with her impersonation. “I’m calling regarding the murders of Richard Flaherty and Nestor Panchal. I’m working on some similar cases here in New York, and I wonder if you could answer a few questions.”
“I’m not supposed to talk about ongoing investigations,” James said. “You’d need to speak with Captain Elsevoir, he’s in charge.”
“I have a message in for him,” Joanna lied. “But maybe you can just confirm a few things, off the record, lab to lab?”
“Go ahead.”
“Did either of the bodies have a mark burned into the chest? A circle with a five-pointed star inside?”
“They did.” The man’s tone was both grudging and curious.
“And were all four limbs and the head forcibly removed from the body, as if torn, rather than cut with any kind of weapon?”
“Yes. How many cases did you say you’ve seen there?”
“Seven and counting. I believe yours and ours are definitely the same, um, MO.”
“Can you share anything else with us?” Now the director’s voice took on a note of excitement Joanna knew well. Scientists weren’t that much different from detectives. Both got off on solving mysteries.
“I’ll have my office send everything to Captain Elsevoir after I speak with him. Thank you so much.” She hung up before he could ask anything else.
Two people dead at Peter Gordon’s school, and several of his father’s business associates killed as well. Now if she could just figure out how the girl in the nightclub fit in….
She picked up her cell and pulled up Dan’s number.
This couldn’t wait until dinner.
“Hot damn.”
Dan stared at a map of Manhattan. For the past two hours he, Joanna, and Tom had compared notes and discovered that several seemingly unrelated facts and events now appeared to link both cases in ways they’d never imagined.
All involving Henry Gordon.
The first mummification had occurred at the Egyptian Cultural Museum a year ago, and not long after that Gordon had purchased the museum and set himself up as Chairman of the Board. Three of the ushabti’s victims came from the Green Mountain Academy, where Gordon’s son, Peter, was a student. Seven others involved people Henry Gordon had threatened after a business deal gone sour. Halfway through their research, Dan had put up the map and started placing colored pins at the site of each death. Yellow for mummifications, green for the ushabti.
The pattern quickly became obvious.
More than three quarters of the mummifications, including several dating back months before Dan got the case, were located within twenty blocks of the Egyptian Cultural Museum. A few outliers dotted the West Side. Of the ushabti killings, seven of the eleven had occurred on the East Side, the exceptions being the student and headmaster in Vermont, Arnold Smythe in Westchester, and Elton Banks, who’d died in his plane but it seemed likely the ushabti was responsible.
“What about Bahaman Ibrahaim?” Joanna asked. “He was killed in the style of the ushabti, but he also looked partly mummified.”
“I think we can all agree that was a red herring to throw us off the trail,” Dan said. “No way the ushabti did that.”
“Chopping him up also helps hide the mummification.” Tom placed a yellow pin at the address in Queens, and another right near the museum.
“What’s that one?” Joanna asked.
“That’s where I was attacked. That woman ended up partially mummified, just like Ibrahaim.”
Dan took two red pins and stuck them near the center of the pattern, which was a rough square stretching from Central Park to the East River, and from Fifty-Ninth Street to Seventy-Ninth.
“Henry Gordon’s apartment building, and his office.”
Tom looked at Dan.
“Captain Green said you needed evidence. I think we’ve got it.”
“More research on the ushabti?”
Stacy jumped in her chair at the voice behind her. She hadn’t heard Professor Merakhmet enter the office. Her cheeks grew warm at being caught doing personal work on company time. She nodded without looking up.
“Yes. I’m sorry. The police asked for my help, not just with that case but with some other murders, too. Strange ones.”
Merakhmet bent down to look at her screen.
“Vampirism in ancient Egypt? How does this relate to your police work?”
“Bodies have been found drained of all fluids. Almost mummified, in the way extreme heat and aridity might do. Tom and his partner feel there might be a link.”
“Vampirism is quite prevalent in the myths of Egypt. It is believed Sekhmet was the first of the line, but many of the gods and demi-gods were also vampires. They were worshipped for their power and knowledge. It is possible they are the basis for the European superstitions. However, they have little to do with mummies or ushabtis.”
Stacy clicked on a different tab.
“According to this, ushabtis are in service to Osiris, god of the dead. And Osiris is a vampire in many of the ancient stories.”
“The gods rarely involved themselves in the doings of men. It was the high priests that practiced magic and served as the representatives of the gods on Earth.”
“Magic like calling an ushabti?”
Merakhmet nodded.
“Yes, a high priest could very well do that.”
Stacy scribbled notes on a scrap of paper.
“What else? Were there any spells that would basically mummify someone?”
“There probably were. The priests of that time were supposed to have great powers at their disposal, which the last of them took to their graves. The Book of the Dead is but a myth now, all copies of it long turned to dust. I myself have only read of one such spell, but there are no accounts of it ever actually being used. Just that it existed as a way of achieving immortality.”
“How so?” Stacy continued to write.
“It is said that under the right circumstances a man could return from the Duat if his Ka was bound to his physical body upon death. Once revived, that person would need to constantly feed on the life force of others in order to remain alive.” Merakhmet scratched his chin. “I suppose, in a way, this could fit your vampire theory. But only a priest of the highest order would be capable of this, and to do so would be unthinkable.”
“Why?” Stacy looked up and was startled to find the professor’s face twisted in what almost looked like pain, his gaze unfocused.
“Imagine being cast into the afterlife without a Ka. No chance to be reunited with the Ba, no chance to reach the end of the black river and achieve eternal peace. It would be an endless Hell of torture and agony, while feeling that half of you is always missing. I cannot think of a more horrific fate.”
“That does sound awful,” Stacy murmured, her attention still on her notes. If she could find—
“Perhaps we can discuss this more at a future time? There are some new arrivals in need of cataloging.”
“What? Oh, yes, of course. I’ll be right there.” Stacy’s embarrassment returned at Merakhmet’s not-so-subtle reminder she had a job to do. But first, she had to call Tom.
Ushabtis and vampires, all stemming from magic. What if someone had discovered an ancient book of spells, like the Book of the Dead?
If so, their situation had just grown exponentially more dangerous.
The last thing Dan expected when he and Tom entered Captain Green’s office was to see Chad Driscoll standing by the window. He wore a smug grin that warned them things were already not going their way even before they had a chance to speak.
“Make it quick,” Green said. He didn’t ask them to sit. Another bad sign. The captain looked five years older than the last time Dan had seen him and judging from the puffy bags under his bloodshot eyes he hadn’t been sleeping well. There had to be a lot of people breathing down his neck with the growing number of deaths. Dan didn’t envy his position at all.
“We have new information about the Ragman case,” Dan said, wasting no time on pleasantries. “They’re linked in some way to the deaths in the homeless community, and we’ve got a rough pattern. Henry Gordon—”
“We know all about Gordon,” Driscoll interrupted. “Started looking into him as soon as he admitted he was basically blackmailing the victims.”
“With all due respect,” Tom said, ignoring Driscoll and looking at Green, “there’s a lot more going on than just blackmail. There are still several men whose lives are in danger, and not from an ordinary killer. We believe—”
“It doesn’t matter what you believe,” Driscoll cut in again. “We’ve got the situation under control. Go home and leave this to the big boys.”
“You don’t understand what you’re dealing with!” Dan’s frustrations burst out. Tom tapped his arm, warning him to keep his composure.
“Oh, I think we do,” Driscoll said. “We’ve been monitoring Gordon’s phones and email. There’s another shipment of artifacts coming in to the Egyptian Cultural Museum soon and then everything is being sold at the gala. Once the money changes hands, we grab Gordon and confiscate everything at the museum and his warehouse. Case closed.”
“What?” Dan glanced from Driscoll to Green. “Smuggling? That’s what you think this is about?”
Green nodded. “Gordon’s been using the museum as a cover to bring in black market artifacts. He tried to get some of his old British buddies to help buy them, and if they didn’t, he had them killed. Don’t know the why of that yet, maybe he thinks he can negotiate with other family members, or frighten them into paying. But the remaining four have ponied up a good deal of money.”
“We’ve got them under surveillance, too,” Driscoll added. “Just in case Gordon decides to pull a double-cross.”
“That’s the least of your problems. Those men need to be under protective custody. The thing that’s doing the killing—”
“Thing?” Driscoll let out a laugh. “Not more of that mummy bullshit.”
“Enough.” Green held up his hand. “I agreed to hear you out because you were both good cops at one time. But I’m not in the mood for crazy theories. Go home and stay out of it. This doesn’t concern you anymore.”
“Yeah, maybe you should forget police work and start a swingers’ club. Seems you’re good at that.”
Tom grabbed Dan’s arm and pulled him toward the door before he could say anything else.
“Let’s go. They’re not going to listen.” He glanced back. “But fair warning. Y’all are in over your heads and there’s gonna be more deaths. Nothing you can do will stop them.”
“Oooh, booga-booga, Tommy-boy. I’m so scared.”
Tom slammed the door on Driscoll’s laughter. Neither he nor Dan spoke until they were outside. Then Dan shook his head, his anger draining, replaced by cold resignation. It was going to be up to them to stop the ushabti, and they had no idea how to do it. He looked at Tom and was surprised to find his old partner smiling.
“Why the fuck are you so happy?”
Tom’s grin grew wider. “Because thank the stars Driscoll’s a grade-A idiot. He gave us a lead.”
“What?”
“He mentioned a gala coming up. We find out what and when it is, I’ll bet that’s where we catch Gordon with whoever or whatever is controlling the ushabti.”
“Thanks for doing this.”
Joanna and Stacy stood on the steps of a satellite laboratory of the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner Department of Forensic Biology. The day had been crazy for Joanna. First the discovery of Henry Gordon’s involvement with the museum, and then the awful shock of seeing Beth Nowicki’s name in the news as the latest victim of the Ragman. She’d been deep in anguished guilt over getting Beth involved when Stacy called, saying Tom hadn’t answered his phone or texts.
“They went to see Captain Green,” she’d told Stacy, while trying to hold back tears. “Probably has his phone turned off.”
Stacy immediately heard that something was wrong and when she asked about it, Joanna had broken down.
“It’s not your fault,” Stacy said, after Joanna poured out her grief. “You didn’t know then what could happen. None of us did.”
“But she wouldn’t have died if it wasn’t for me. And even worse, I feel helpless. At least if I was still in the lab, I’d be doing something of value, maybe finding the clue that leads us to who’s controlling the creature.”
There was a moment of quiet on the phone, and then Stacy said, “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I have an ex who works at one of the NYPD’s DNA labs. She owes me a favor. Maybe I can get her to let you use her computer to look at the case files. I’ll leave work a little early and we’ll go together.”
Joanna had jumped at the chance. Anything to atone in some way for Beth. Except now, as they approached the doors, she couldn’t help feeling nervous. What if they got caught? She’d already been fired. This could land her in jail. But there was no time for second-guessing as Stacy led them inside, where a pretty Asian woman immediately waved to them from the lobby.
“Stacy, over here.”
“Melissa, hi! Joanna, this is Melissa Kim,” Stacy said.
“Hello.” The woman nodded at Joanna but her attention returned almost instantly to Stacy. “So, what’s the big secret project? Are you trying to get DNA from one of your mummies?”
Stacy’s face grew serious and Joanna understood she hadn’t told her old girlfriend the real reason for their visit. That guess got confirmed when Stacy lowered her voice.
“Can we talk in private? Like, in your office?”
Kim gave her a confused frown but shrugged. “Sure, follow me.”
After stopping at the front desk to get them visitor passes – Joanna cringed when handing over her license but no alarms were triggered – Kim led them down a hall to a small, compulsively neat office, where Stacy explained in a few short sentences what they needed.
Kim’s eyes went wide and her eyebrows shot up.
“Are you crazy? I could lose my job for that. What makes you think—?”
“You owe me,” Stacy said. “You wouldn’t have this job if it wasn’t for me.”
For a moment, Kim didn’t say anything. Her expression turned hard, her lips tightening and eyes going cold. When she finally spoke, it was with barely controlled fury.
“After all this time, you’re going to pull that bullshit?”
Stacy looked crestfallen but didn’t back down. “I have to. I’m sorry, but it’s that important.”
“Really?”
“Life or death. I swear. I wouldn’t if I wasn’t desperate, you know that.”
Another long stare, and then Kim sighed. “It better be.” She took out a piece of paper and wrote something on it. “My password. I’m going to grab a cup of coffee in the break room. Maybe a sandwich. When I come back, I’m going to walk you to the exit and I never want to see you again. Understand? We’re even now.”
“Thank you.” Stacy waited until Kim left, shutting the door behind her, then motioned for Joanna to take Kim’s seat.
“Do what you have to, and make it quick.” There was a sadness in her eyes that told Joanna that calling in the favor had hurt Stacy more than she was letting on.
Joanna logged in and quickly accessed the files for the Lopez and Nowicki cases. She didn’t even bother reading them, just hit print, after checking that the printer was in Kim’s office and not shared somewhere else in the building. While she waited, she had the idea to check her work email. Odds were it had been turned off, but municipal agencies worked slow and—
“Yes!”
“What?” Stacy asked, coming around to look over Joanna’s shoulder.
“You have to love the government. My email is still active and they didn’t change my password.” She scrolled through the inbox. Dozens of messages had accumulated, mostly internal stuff. Then the name B. Nowicki caught her eye. Dated the same day Beth had died.
She hesitated before opening it. Oh, Beth, I am sorry.
“Holy shit.” Stacy was looking over her shoulder.
“What?” Joanna stared at Beth’s message saying she’d found the person Simon Gordon murdered in Egypt a century ago. Below that was a photo of a faded newspaper page.
Stacy tapped the screen, her face pale.
“That picture. We need to show this to Tom and Dan right away.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Okay, so what’s the big news?” Dan asked, as soon as he and Tom found seats in Stacy’s office. With Stacy and Joanna already there, the small space was cramped, but no one suggested going somewhere else. The message from the women had been too urgent.
Come to the museum as soon as you can. Important.
“We think we know who’s controlling the ushabti,” Stacy said.
