by J L Aarne
Chapter 26
Halloween was always pretty insane, but the crimes that occurred were largely local cop problems, not FBI problems. Ezekiel had excused his team to go home early and they all had except for Crewes, who was finishing a report at her desk. Ezekiel had told her she could leave, but she wanted to finish it. The others had left an hour earlier. Kenner and Schechter had returned the day before from Washington—the elderly rapist killer had turned out to be one of the volunteers who delivered meals—and they were tired and Kenner at least was still too disturbed to concentrate well. He’d have it together by Monday, so Ezekiel had ordered him home.
Ezekiel was clearing up some paper work of his own, most of it busy work like supply and equipment requisitions. Danny Jeong needed a new computer and he had written a long, earnest request for software, complete with detailed explanations of exactly how it would help them to do their job better and faster. Ezekiel didn’t understand most of the tech jargon, which meant it was likely something incredibly complicated and therefore Jeong was probably right and they could use it. It would also be a huge pain in the ass to install and implement, but that would be Jeong and Murray’s problem.
He signed the form and approved it.
Detective Parker had sent him a file on the forensics they had taken from the last Lamplighter scene. He looked at shoe prints—size ten, tread matching some cheap brand of tennis shoe that could be bought at several retailers. There were other shoe prints, a lot of shoe prints because the building attracted vagrants and squatters, but these were the shoe prints found on top of the blood and oil and ashes. It was where The Lamplighter had walked.
It was evidence, but it didn’t reveal anything except that the killer was probably a little more than six feet tall and weighted between 170 and 180 pounds. There were a lot of people in the world who fell into that category if that was all they had. So far, it was.
If Ezekiel gave Parker what he had, they would have more. But he wasn’t going to do that.
Crewes stuck her head in his door and said, “I’m taking off, sir. Unless you need me for something?”
“No, go on home, Crewes,” Ezekiel said. “You can—”
He looked up at her and stopped. She was wearing a curly rainbow colored wig, garish blue eye shadow and a skintight black and white diamond pattern suit.
“What the hell are you wearing?”
She grinned at him. “Happy Halloween,” she said. “I’m going to a party right after I leave. Thought I’d save time and get dressed in the bathroom. Do you like it?”
Halloween, right. He remembered now. Someone had put a colorful cardboard cutout of a smiling jack-o’-lantern on the door to his office earlier in the week, which Ezekiel had promptly ripped off and tossed in the trash. He had nothing against Halloween per se, but party decorations had their place and that place was nowhere near his office.
“Sure. It’s… festive,” Ezekiel said.
“Yeah, right,” Crewes said. “Don’t worry. I’m leaving. You have a good night, Herod.”
She left and Ezekiel shrugged and went back to work. He was alone, but he didn’t mind. He liked working late at night after everyone was gone. It was peaceful, relaxing; the only sound the breath of the air conditioner and the scratch of his pen or tap of his computer keys. The city bright and bustling outside his windows, the dark sky making the glass reflective like mirrors. It had a comfortable claustrophobia to it.
He had forgotten about Crewes and Halloween and was peering at a report on his computer screen when Jacob walked into his office and sat on the side of his desk an hour later. Ezekiel sensed him there and knew it to be Jacob by smell, so he did not look up, but continued reading. He picked up his coffee cup from the desk and sipped it. It was cold, but he drank it anyway.
“Hello, Zeke,” Jacob said. “Thought I’d come see what you’re doing. Say hi. You know.”
“You going to try dragging me home early?” Ezekiel asked.
“Oh, I might if I weren’t going out,” Jacob said.
“Out?” Ezekiel asked.
“You know, I was watching a documentary on TV earlier about twins and triplets and things. Multiple births,” Jacob said. He often changed the subject in such a way when Ezekiel was working and he wanted his attention. “They talked about them eating each other in the womb. Cannibalization in utero. Do you ever wonder if we had a third sibling and we ate him or her, Zeke? But then I got to thinking, I wonder what else we did in Mama’s womb. Maybe we’ve always been, well… unconventionally close. Do you think so?”
Ezekiel had only been half listening, but gradually his attention shifted to what Jacob was saying and he frowned. Jacob crossed his right leg over his left knee and Ezekiel looked down at the toe of a black combat boot, which wasn’t unusual. But when he let his gaze drift up Jacob’s leg, he found himself staring at fine red fabric covered in sequins. That was unusual.
“What the—”
Jacob put a hand on his arm and leaned toward him over the desk. “You ever wonder if we fucked in the womb, Zeke?”
Ezekiel looked at him then, both surprised and disgusted by the question and alarmed by the glittery sequins. There Jacob sat amid the office clutter dressed in a tight, red sequined gown with a slit up the left side. He was wearing full makeup; smoky eye shadow, black eyeliner, mascara and sheer, glittery pink lip-gloss. His fingernails were painted black with red glitter. The leg he had bared looked smooth.
Just to see, Ezekiel put his hand on Jacob’s calf to check. He had shaved his legs.
“Zeke?”
“What?” Ezekiel asked.
He was a little stunned, but more than that, he was alarmed. It had been a long time since Jacob had an episode and he was more likely to chase the neighbors’ dogs out of their yard while wearing nothing than get decked out in women’s clothing. All he could think was that there had been no warning this time at all and that was bad. They might have to make an appointment with the Jacob’s doctor to change or adjust his medication.
“I asked you a question,” Jacob prompted.
“No. No, Jakey, I don’t think we fucked in the womb. Besides being impossible, that’s gross,” Ezekiel said. He stood and put an arm around Jacob to lead him out of his office.
Jacob hopped down from his desk willingly enough and went with him. “I don’t know. I think it’s rather interesting. To consider anyway.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll just get my things together and we’ll go home, okay?” Ezekiel said gently.
He turned to go back into his office to get his jacket and lock up, but Jacob turned with him. “What are you talking about? I’m not going home. I didn’t get dressed up like this just to go home again.”
“Jake, have you been taking your medication?” Ezekiel asked. He grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it, got his keys and phone and locked the door.
“Don’t you dare condescend to me like that, Ezekiel,” Jacob said. “You know, I have been, but I fail to see why you need to ask me that on a semi regular basis.”
Ezekiel put his arm back around him and walked with him down the stairs and through the desks toward the elevators. “Well, I don’t want to be condescending, Jake, but have you looked in the mirror lately?”
“As a matter of fact, I’ve done little else in the past two hours. Do you think this was easy?” Jacob said, gesturing down at himself. “Eyeliner is a far more complicated tool than I previously believed. I think you’d look nice in eyeliner now that I think about it.”
“Jacob, that is not my point,” Ezekiel said. “And I’m not wearing eyeliner. Ever.”
Jacob smiled at him with a flirtatious curve to his lips and lowered his eyes to look at him through his long black lashes. “Oh, come on. Just for me?” he asked, voice lowered to barely above a whisper.
“No,” Ezekiel said. They stopped at the elevators and he hit the button to take them down. “Since when did you become so interested in cross-dressing?”
“Since never, you buffoo
n. It’s Halloween. I’m going to a costume party,” Jacob said.
Ezekiel stopped and thought about that. “Oh,” he said. Relieved, he said, “Oh, thank God.”
“I knew you’d forget,” Jacob said. “You were invited, but you probably don’t remember as you were not listening to me when I mentioned it to you a couple weeks ago.”
“I don’t remember that,” Ezekiel admitted.
Jacob put a hand up and patted his cheek. His nail polish sparkled. “Of course you don’t,” he said.
Ezekiel took a step back and looked at Jacob better then. He had thought before in the past that Jacob would look good in a dress and makeup. He had the build and the face for it. He wasn’t all that surprised to discover he had been right about that; Jacob did look good. He had always been pretty, but he was pretty now in a different way. There was every chance in the world that he would be mistaken more than once tonight for a beautiful woman.
“You shaved your legs,” Ezekiel said.
“I did,” Jacob agreed.
Ezekiel found the idea of that more than a little distracting. “All the way?”
Jacob glanced at him, caught his expression and smirked. “All the way,” he confirmed. “From the thighs down. I’m not particularly hairy, but it was still a job.”
“That’s weird, Jake,” Ezekiel said. “Doesn’t it feel weird?”
Jacob put his hands on his hips and smoothed his palms down, over the thighs of his dress. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s different,” he said. “It would take some getting used to if I planned to make it a habit.”
Ezekiel frowned at him. “They let you through security like that?”
“Of course.”
“Where do you carry your ID?”
Jacob laughed and leaned toward him to say close to his ear, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Ezekiel scowled at him. “No. Don’t be weird, Jacob,” he said, thinking, Yes, I would. Definitely.
Jacob looked like he knew exactly what he was thinking. “Where did you go last night anyway? I woke up and you were gone.”
Ezekiel thought quickly. “Oh. I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk.”
“You took the car. Then you slept on the couch,” Jacob said.
“I just laid down and fell asleep,” Ezekiel said. He shrugged. “Not for long though.”
“You could have come to bed.”
“You wouldn’t have even known I was there. You sleep like the dead.”
The elevator arrived and Jacob got on it. Ezekiel didn’t, but he put his hand between the doors to stop them from closing. “Have fun,” he said.
“I intend to,” Jacob said. “You know Bruce is in town this weekend. You think he’ll recognize me?”
“Maybe,” Ezekiel said. Bruce Stirling was Jacob’s friend, but they didn’t get many opportunities to socialize outside of work, so Ezekiel could only imagine his surprise. “I don’t know. Why?”
“I’m thinking it could be fun to fuck with him a little bit,” Jacob said mischievously.
Ezekiel smiled and took his hand off the door so it could close. “Call me if you drink too much,” he said. “I’ll come get you.”
“I look forward to it,” Jacob said.
The doors slid closed and Ezekiel shook his head, amused. Then he went back to his office. He had a little work he still wanted to finish and when he was done with that, there was a Jeff Lindsay book waiting for him.
He might have gone to the costume party with Jacob, but Jacob got amorous sometimes when he was drunk and that wasn’t something either of them wanted to happen around coworkers. Mary Caspian was having another Halloween party at a club across town called The Slaughterhouse and Sol had invited him, but after considering it for a little while, he decided against it as well.
He went home and read and laughed aloud in places imagining Rainer reading the book and recalling his fit of rage. In the book, the author attributed psychopathy, and homicidal inclinations in general, to demonic possession. Rainer wasn’t that different from most serial killers in that regard: he wanted credit for what he did, even if by necessity it was anonymous.
Chapter 27
Rainer spent Halloween with Thomas then stayed with him for a couple of days after. He went to work and he went home to Thomas and Thomas’s many adopted dogs and cats. They ate gourmet leftovers, talked about books, annoying customers, students, cokehead waiters, their parents, the upcoming Christmas holiday and even Agent Ezekiel Herod.
Thomas really hated Ezekiel Herod. Thomas told him to be careful, said that it seemed like this FBI agent had something and even if he didn’t, it sounded like he wasn’t going to give up until he did.
Rainer smiled. “Probably not,” he agreed.
Thomas stared at him. A new black kitten was curled up and sleeping in his lap and he was absently petting it. “You’re enjoying the attention,” he said.
“Yes, of course, though not in the way you mean,” Rainer said. He sat on the sofa smoking a cigarette. The coffee table was between them. “His attention was the point, after all.”
“Rainer, goddamn it,” Thomas said. “You’re going to get caught. You’re going to go to prison. I know this doesn’t scare you, but it scares me. And I really doubt you’d like it either, you just don’t have any… I don’t know… foresight.”
“I have foresight, Thomas. I just don’t…” He trailed off thoughtfully and tapped ash from his cigarette into an ashtray balanced on the arm of the sofa. “I don’t worry. I’m not afraid of what might happen. What’s the point of that?”
“To discourage you from doing stupid shit,” Thomas said.
“As I understand it, people like me have a hard time grasping such things,” Rainer said. “Consequences.”
“Yeah. Probably part of the whole lack of impulse control thing,” Thomas said. “But since you’re aware of it, I’d think you could try. Because this guy? This asshole—he wants you bad. He probably doesn’t even care what he nails you for.”
Rainer smiled faintly. “Probably not.”
Thomas frowned at him. “Jesus Christ. You fucking moron.”
Rainer’s eyebrows lifted in question.
“You want to fuck this guy,” Thomas said.
“Maybe,” Rainer said evasively. Thomas could be so irritable about such things.
“Maybe,” Thomas scoffed. “That is a horrible idea. I met that guy, remember? He kinda seems like he wants to kill you, not fuck you.”
“I rather think he wants to do both,” Rainer said.
Thomas looked like he wanted to yell at him, but he knew better than to think that would accomplish anything more than an argument. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I mean, I know what’s wrong with you, but what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Rainer finished his cigarette and put it out. “Nothing, Thomas.”
He went home halfway through the week. He had taken Pogo with him to Thomas’s and Thomas had spoiled him a little. Enough that the cat didn’t eat his regular food for a day after they returned. Rainer let him have his mini hunger strike. He listened to music, watched cop shows late at night and sat outside on the walkway to smoke in the evenings and watch for Ezekiel.
He hadn’t seen him in several days and by the third one, he realized that he missed him. Which was an unusual and unwelcome feeling. He did not miss people.
He had missed Thomas when Thomas left him after high school and went out of the country to become a chef, but that was completely different. It was Thomas and Thomas was the exception to every rule. Rainer did not typically care about people enough to genuinely miss their presence and what relationship existed between himself and Ezekiel was not really of the type that included such things. They were opponents. Adversaries. Enemies even. They’d had a few conversations, but they were not friends. They were playing the game, but it was not a friendly game.
Still, it was true. He missed him and when he did not see Ezekiel’s shiny black car parked outside his apartment, it bo
thered him. He wondered if Ezekiel had, in fact, given up. That certainly didn’t seem like him, but then what did Rainer really know about the man? Maybe he was getting bored. Rainer hadn’t left him any victims to play with in a while.
That was one thing he could do something about. But who? He sat there looking out at the traffic passing on the street beyond the courtyard and frowned. He hadn’t thought about it since Eden and the monster in the desert. Having Pied’s bloody head chucked at him out of the darkness had thrown him somewhat off his game in that regard.
But if Ezekiel needed him to kill someone to keep his interest, that was what he was going to have to do.
“Don’t you fucking talk back to me like that!”
Rainer sighed. He recognized Lance LaRoche’s voice instantly and it made him grit his teeth. He’d had about enough of good ol’ Lance. Good ol’ Lance was quickly wearing out his welcome in Rainer’s orbit. Screaming at his ex-wife and his son seemed to be one of Lance’s favorite pastimes. That and hitting them. From the sound of things he mostly hit Caleb’s mother, but Rainer didn’t see as much of Caleb as he once had either.
“You show me some fucking respect!”
There was a heavy thud inside the neighboring apartment and Laura Carver sobbed and said she was sorry.
Ezekiel’s black car pulled to the curb and parked. Rainer grinned.
“Stop that goddamn yowling, you dumb bitch!”
Rainer considered his options. He wanted to knock on the door and when Lance or Caleb or Laura answered it, push his way inside and beat Lance’s head against the closest available hard surface until he was silent. Then maybe again until his head cracked like an egg and his brain fluid leaked out. But he could not do that. Instead, he flicked his cigarette butt out into the parking lot and went down the stairs and across the lot to Ezekiel’s car.
The window slid down as he approached. Rainer bent down and rested his arms on the window opening. “Haven’t seen you for some time now,” he said. “You’re not growing tired of me are you, Agent Herod?”