Several hours later, Luke came to two conclusions. First, Terrell was absolutely right about the value of his looking at mug shots of known prostitutes and females with arrest records for violence. On the positive side, though, he was more convinced than ever that he would recognize the woman’s face, even if she had been wearing the disguise of a whore.
Unable to forget about the FBI’s theory, he was wondering if there was such a thing as a mug shot book of professional assassins when Terrell came in.
“There’s someone I want you to meet. The police artist is in today on another case, but he said he had time to work something up for you… if you think you’re up to describing the woman you saw that night.”
He physically stopped Luke from racing out the door. “Whoa, cowboy. Remember, you keep your mouth shut about what you saw until I’m sure it’s worth it for you to stick your neck out. For now, we’re holding to the stupid tourist story. I’ll introduce you as Charles Brown.”
Luke smirked. “Charlie Brown? Is that the best you can do? If I have to be a cartoon character, why can’t I be Peter Parker?”
“Don’t get pushy. The name fits the picture. Now I’m warning you, be careful of everything you say.”
After Luke swore he wouldn’t deviate from the story Terrell had made up, they went to the room where the police artist was shading an area of the sketch he was doing for an elderly woman.
Luke was interested in the process, but he could see that the woman didn’t really have a clear picture in her own mind, so it made it nearly impossible for the artist to get the image transferred onto paper.
When it was finally Luke’s turn, Terrell introduced him as Mr. Brown and gave the artist the rehearsed explanation. As soon as Terrell left Luke alone with the artist, he began describing the face that had haunted him for twenty-one years.
Creating the sketch was as fascinating to Luke as it was eerie. He soon found himself asking as many questions as the artist did of him. The more he complimented the artist’s profession and talent, the more helpful the man became.
When the sketch was completed, the artist asked, “Are you sure about the jawline?”
“Positive,” Luke replied. “Why?”
“It seems a little broad for the rest of the face. I hope you’re not offended by this, but are you also certain that your prostitute was a woman?”
Luke tried to look ashamed and nodded. “It was not one of my finest hours, but I’m sure she had breasts.” He clearly recalled seeing rounded flesh above the tight-fitting bodice. “I gathered from the detective that there isn’t much that can be done about my being robbed, but this has certainly been a real learning experience. I wonder if you could do me a huge favor?”
The artist angled his head rather than agreeing automatically.
“Could you draw me another picture of this same woman, but as she would look after twenty years of normal aging?” When the man hesitated, he explained, “I’m a teacher. My students would be very interested to learn about this, especially the artistic ones. It’s certainly more productive than spray painting graffiti on walls. I think they’d be really interested in the process.”
“A lot can happen in twenty years. You’d have to give me a scenario to go on.”
Luke gave that some thought and decided that if the woman was still up to her old tricks, she’d have to be in pretty good shape. “Let’s say nothing out of the ordinary happened, no serious diseases, disfigurements or big weight changes. If she simply aged like an average woman, what would she look like today, I mean, twenty years from today?”
The artist was finishing up the second sketch when Terrell returned to get Luke. They thanked the artist for his time and went back to the interrogation room with the two sketches.
“Why two?” Terrell asked.
Luke pointed at the younger version. “That’s the woman I saw in the alley. No question.” He tapped the aged version. “And that’s what she would look like today, if she aged normally and didn’t have anything drastic happen, like an accident or an enormous weight gain. It was the artist’s idea to change the hairstyle to a more contemporary one.” He briefly related what he had told the artist to get him to draw the second one.
Terrell sat down with his long legs stretched out in front of him and his hands folded over his flat stomach. His mouth moved from side to side as he glared at Luke.
“What?” Luke asked and sat down in another chair.
“I was sure you couldn’t come up with a definite description. Not after all this time. If you were some guy off the street who came in here with this story, I’d have you thrown out as a nut-case.”
“But you know I’m not nuts. So what do we do next?”
Terrell leaned forward and spoke in a low, serious tone. “What you do next is get on a plane back to Charlotte while you still can. I keep looking for the killer and some kind of hard evidence that would hold up in court.”
“But I saw her, and I can still identify her. I could—”
“You could get yourself killed and that’s about it. We once assumed she had a friend on the inside who alerted her about Pablo’s testimony. Then Pablo ended up in a box. If the same woman is responsible for Neuman’s death, she may still have the same friend. And now here you are, giving her description to the police artist. You shouldn’t have asked for the second sketch.”
Luke frowned. “I didn’t think it would matter.”
“The problem with this case is we have no idea what matters and what doesn’t.” He sighed. “Let me put it another way. Even if she didn’t come after you first, and we caught her, and you went to court as an eye witness, a good defense attorney would tear your testimony apart. Too damn much time has passed for anyone but me—and the killer—to listen to you. It’s just not enough for you to risk coming forward now.” He picked up the older version sketch. “Believe me, this drawing could be a big help. Maybe not in court, but you’ve given me an idea of the face I’m looking for, and that’s a hell of a lot more than I had before.”
Luke rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what made me think I could do more.” He got up and walked around the table. “Look, if you don’t mind, I’d like to stick around for a few more days. I can’t go back to Charlotte without visiting the family, and I’d really like to take another look through that file. I just can’t believe someone could commit that many mutilations and not leave a single clue behind. Even a pro must make mistakes once in a while. Maybe a fresh, non-professional approach would come up with something no one else has thought of.”
Terrell wasn’t happy about it, but he couldn’t deny his friend the time he asked for. “Okay, but you have to do something for me. I’ve gotten roped into filling a chair at a thousand-dollar chicken dinner in Sacramento this Saturday. I was told I could bring a date.”
Luke grinned. “Isn’t this rather sudden, sweetie? What will Sergeant Maria say?”
“Don’t be a smartass. Here’s the situation. Senator Jones is throwing an AIDS research fundraising banquet. It’s one of his pet charities, but it’s also time for him to start beating his political drums to get some attention from the Republican Party. Apparently he wants to appear liberal on personal freedoms and conservative on crime control, so he sent some complimentary tickets to the heads of several police and sheriff’s departments with a request that each send a number of officers to represent California’s law enforcement community.”
“Sounds delightful,” Luke said sarcastically. “How did you get to be one of the lucky ones?”
Terrell grunted. “Turns out Jones specifically asked Sheriff Patterson to send the detective in charge of Neuman’s murder because of the possible homosexual tie-in.”
“I don’t suppose it occurred to the senator that pulling you away from the case might get in the way of solving it. Anyway, wouldn’t you rather ask Maria?”
“Yes, but she got picked for a seat too, so we could all drive up together. Apparently, they wanted to get a sampling
of as many minorities as possible. With me, they cover the African-American sector, and with her, they’ve got both a female and a Latino.”
“Well, I was hoping to get a look at her. I guess crammed in your Toyota for several hours is as good a way as any.”
“It won’t be that bad. I have approval to use a squad car to make the trip. The senator wants to see a fleet of police vehicles around the banquet hotel.”
“Oh wow. Can we use the lights and siren on the way there?”
“If you’re going to keep being a smartass, I’ll make you sit behind the grill the whole trip. By the way, I almost forgot. You’ll have to rent a tux.”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Great. It sounds like I’m going to end up being a tourist after all.”
Chapter 5
“For me?” Ellery was surprised by the lovely bouquet of yellow bud roses and baby’s breath.
The delivery man looked at the name on the envelope taped to the small crystal vase. “If you’re Ellery Winters, Aide to Senator Jones, then these are for you. If you’ll just sign for their receipt, please.” He set the vase on the corner of her broad desk and handed her his clipboard.
Ellery quickly signed on the appropriate line, gave the man a tip and reached for the envelope. When she saw that a thank-you card was inside, she again thought it was a mistake, but then she read the message.
Ellery—
You are a real jewel and I want you to know how fortunate I consider
myself to have you on my staff.
—Abraham Lincoln Jones
For the hundredth time during the five weeks she’d been working in the senator’s office, she wondered what it was about him that had spooked her mother. Ellery had to continually remind herself that she had been placed there to find a flaw in the man’s character. Thus far, she had discovered only virtues.
The flowers were typical of his thoughtfulness. He always thanked her for working late, even though it was an expected part of her job and happened nearly every day. She had worked for enough men to appreciate one who regularly said “please” and “well done”. Senator Jones was unusual in other ways also. He rarely forgot the name of someone he’d met and never once had she heard a sexual innuendo or profanity slip from his lips. His gentlemanly, considerate manner seemed completely inbred rather than practiced as with many of the politicians she’d encountered.
He was also better looking than she’d expected him to be. Apparently, his very fair coloring didn’t transfer to print or film very well, but he had quite attractive features. She could imagine how many female admirers he must have had as a young man. It occurred to her that it might help if he got some sun, or maybe used a little makeup to darken his eyebrows and lashes. She knew a lot of men in the public eye who used makeup on occasion.
Even his reaction to her greater height impressed her. For some reason, she had pictured him to be much taller, but he was barely five foot eight. To his credit, he didn’t seem to mind looking up at her as a lot of men did.
Although he had been traveling for most of her first month in Sacramento, he was expected to be in his office full-time for the next several weeks, so she would have the opportunity to observe him more closely.
She glanced at the clock. There were two more minutes left before she was to buzz him with an excuse to end his meeting with Gregory Yates, the director of S.P.I.C.E. The Society for the Protection of Individual Choices and Elections was originally meant to include a wide range of issues, but had become known primarily as a gay rights group.
S.P.I.C.E. had been a strong supporter of Jones in the last election, so he usually found time for their director if at all possible. Today, however, he wanted to keep it short since Gregory was here to nag him about the homosexual murder in Santa Monica three weeks ago, and he had no news for him.
Two phone lines rang simultaneously just as she was about to perform the interruption. She put one on hold while she took care of the other.
“Senator Jones’ office. Ellery Winters speaking.”
“It’s Vincent Barry, Miss Winters. I’m sorry to bother you again, but we’ve run into another small problem regarding the banquet tomorrow evening.”
Ellery’s shoulders slumped. She wondered if her mother ever had as many small problems as the catering manager of the Yorkshire Hotel seemed to be having. Although, to be fair, she didn’t think her mother had ever catered a sit-down dinner for two thousand wealthy and famous people at one time. “Go on.”
“Our regular seafood supplier now says he can only get us enough quality jumbo shrimp to serve the shrimp cocktail appetizer to half the guests. Perhaps we could substitute a tropical fruit cup? We could dress it up with a gold palm tree or a miniature flag.”
Ellery sighed heavily. “That might have worked before the menus were printed, but that’s unacceptable now. We cannot have a roomful of people expecting shrimp and getting a fruit cup, with or without a gold palm tree… at least not for what these people are paying.” She tried to think like Audrey would have. “Hold on, please. I have another call.” Besides giving herself a chance to think, she needed to take a message from the other caller, but when she pressed that button, she only heard a dial tone.
She took another moment to buzz the senator before getting back to the caterer.
“Yes?” he said over the speakerphone so that Gregory would hear what Ellery was about to say and, hopefully, take the hint to leave.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but the reporter from Newsweek is on line one for the interview he scheduled. He said this is the only time he has before deadline.”
“Thank you. I’ll take it in a moment.”
Ellery quickly shifted her brain back to the catering crisis and picked up that call again. “Can you definitely get half the order of shrimp?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good. Cut the number of shrimp per person in half and substitute jumbo black olives stuffed with garlic and herb cream cheese. If you place one between each shrimp, it will look creative and they’ll still be getting the appetizer listed on the menu.”
“That’s an excellent suggestion. And we’ll pierce the olives with fancy toothpicks. No one will ever notice the missing shrimp. If you have a few more minutes, Miss Winters, I’d like to go over one or two other details.”
“Actually, there’s something else I need to take care of right now but if you’re free at eight o’clock, I’ll come over to the hotel and go over everything one more time.”
“Eight would be perfect.”
“I’ll see you this evening then, Mr. Barry.”
Gregory came out of Jones’ office with less of a frown than when he went in. “Is it your birthday?” he asked, noting the flowers.
Ellery smiled. “No. Senator Jones sent them. Isn’t he thoughtful?”
Gregory returned her smile. “He’s the best thing that’s happened to California since Anita Bryant. We can only hope Sam Erikson’s people pay attention to all the letters we’ve been sending recommending Jones for his running mate.”
“The way the media has been hovering around here lately, I’d say Erikson’s people and everyone else have already made their choice.”
The phone rang again, and Gregory waved goodbye.
“Senator Jones’ off—”
“I realize you are new to my son’s staff, but in the future, when you put someone on hold, try to remember to return to that caller.”
Ellery would have recognized the haughty voice even if the woman had not made a reference to her “son”. “I am so sorry, Mrs. Jones. Between the media and tomorrow’s banquet—”
“Yes, yes. I understand. But I’m calling from Paris and don’t want to have to dial all these numbers a third time. Is he in?”
Forcing herself to sound pleasant, Ellery said, “As a matter of fact he just ended a meeting. Please hold a moment.”
“Fine. Just don’t forget me this time.”
As she notified the senator of the call, she wondered how som
eone who had been the wife of a diplomat for fifty years could be so abrasive. Undoubtedly, she must have a softer side than the one Ellery had seen thus far… or she was a talented actress when it was required of her.
Within a few days of starting her new job, she had been warned by several staff members about the “Queen Mother”. The worst of it was, they said, after a conversation with his mother, the senator occasionally became despondent, even to the point of canceling appointments or leaving the office unexpectedly.
And yet his instructions to her had been to put his mother through to him whenever possible. Fortunately, she only called about once a week.
* * *
“I cannot stress enough how important it is that you train these new employees on tact as well as efficiency. The lack of professionalism exhibited by young people today makes me wonder what is to become of our country.”
Abraham unclenched his jaws before responding. “I’m sure Miss Winters does not require further training, but I may need to hire a second secretary for her. As she tried to tell you, Mother, the phones have been extremely busy recently, what with everything that’s going on.” He hoped that would prompt an acknowledgment from her.
“Yes, well, then you should hire an additional girl if one is needed. Now, the reason I called was to let you know that the latest rumor here in Paris is that you are the party’s first choice to run with Sam Erikson. You know how proud your father and I will be the day that is confirmed.”
Abraham let out the breath he’d been holding. “Thank you. I appreciate—”
“There’s nothing to thank me for yet. I said we will be proud. I’m just calling to remind you that millions of eyes will be watching you every minute now. It is imperative that you mind your every word and deed, even when you think you’re in private or with friends. There is no privacy for a politician, and you have no friends. Remember that. Are you listening to me?”
“Yes, ma’am. Each and every word.” And I heard them all the other times you said them too.
Twisted Hunger Page 5