In the Shadow of the Arch

by Robert J. Randisi

  "Would you suggest that I stay away from malls for a while?"

  "Yes, as a matter of fact, I would-unless your husband goes with you. Does he ever?"

  "Once in a while."

  "Well, the next time you go, if you see the same man call security right away, then have them call me." He took out one of his new business cards and handed it to her. He had also left one with Marie Tobin.

  "Okay," she said. "I don't mind telling you, I'm scared."

  "I'll keep in touch with you," he said. "When something breaks, I'll let you know."

  "Thank you, Joe," she said, then smiled for the first time, which made her that much more beautiful. "I do feel better now."

  "I better get going. Thanks for the coffee."

  She walked him to the door. At no time did he feel that she was posing for him, or coming on to him.

  "Deb, I got the feeling when I was at Marie's that she was, uh, flirting with me."

  "She is a big flirt."

  "Does she ever take it further than that?"

  "Why? Are you interested?"

  "No," he said, shaking his head. "I make it a habit to avoid married women. That's not why I'm asking."

  She hesitated, then asked, "Is it important?"

  "It could be," he said, "but if you don't want to break your friend's confidence, I'll understand."

  "No, it's okay," she said. "I want to help, and she'll understand."

  "I won't repeat what you tell me."

  "She just told me recently-in fact, that day at the mall-that she was, um, seeing someone."

  "The man you saw at the mall, the one who hit her? Was he her type?"

  She smiled.

  "I love Marie, but men are her type, Joe, in general- but I'm pretty sure she didn't know him. She called him a geek."

  "To his face?"

  "Oh, no," she said. "We didn't speak to him."

  "Was he a geek?"

  He had taken down her description of him, which had been as precise as she could make it.

  "Well… sort of geeky, if you know what I mean. I didn't think he was as bad-looking as Marie did."

  "Okay."

  He opened the door to leave and she put her hand on his arm. Again, there was nothing at all sexual about the contact.

  "Joe, do you think if I hadn't been with Marie that he would have-I mean-"

  "Don't worry about it now, Deb," he said, putting his hand over hers. "I'll be in touch."

  "Thank you."

  She watched him walk all the way to his car, and he waved at her before he got behind the wheel and drove away.

  When he got back to the police station Haywood was excited.

  "Joe, thank God you're back."

  "Why?"

  "You got a call," he said, "from Major Case."

  "What'd they want?"

  "They found another woman."

  "When?"

  "They called about an hour ago."

  "Where?"

  Haywood told him, and gave him directions. If they'd called an hour earlier they'd still be at the scene.

  "I'm on my way." He rushed out of the office and back to his car, wishing he had called in before leaving Shrewsbury.

  That's where the body had been found.

  29

  The woman was almost identical to the first, which meant she looked a lot like Debra Morgan. Her body was found behind a large supermarket, shoved behind a Dumpster. Like the first baby, the body was found by a sanitation man when he lifted the Dumpster to empty it into the truck. She was naked, and had been strangled. There were ligature marks, indicating she'd been tied up, but she'd been strangled by hand. There were finger bruises on her neck.

  "This is all the more reason I think everything is connected," Keough said to Detective Steinbach.

  "I know," Steinbach said, nodding. "This guy likes Dumpsters."

  They were both standing with their hands in their pockets, watching the coroner's people remove the body.

  "And he strangles his victims," Keough said, "during sex."

  The paperwork on the previous murder had told him that.

  "I guess we'll need the coroner's report to know that for sure," the Major Case detective said.

  "I don't," Keough said. "I know."

  "How?"

  "It would be too much of a coincidence otherwise."

  "And you don't believe in coincidence?"

  "I believe in them," Keough said, "but I don't like them."

  "You're making assumptions."

  "Based on experience."

  "As a New York City detective?"

  Keough looked at Steinbach.

  "As a detective, period," he said. "Does it bother you that I came here from New York?"

  "No, it doesn't bother me all."

  They watched for a few more moments before speaking again.

  "So you agree with me now?" Keough asked.

  "I do."

  Keough frowned. "What's that mean?"

  "Just what I said," Steinbach replied. "I agree with you."

  "But no one else does."

  "Nobody's going to okay the formation of a task force because of Dumpsters, Keough."

  "What about Ken Jackson?"

  "What about him?"

  "Is he going to end up with this case, too?"

  "No," Steinbach said, "not yet, anyway."

  "Who gets this one?"

  "As of now, it's mine."

  "Can we work together?"

  Steinbach gave Keough a long look. "Unofficially."

  "Then let's get together, unofficially," Keough said, "because I have some information."

  "About this woman?"

  "No," Keough said, "I don't even know who this woman is, at this point, but I believe my information is connected."

  "Okay," Steinbach said. "I've got to call those two husbands of missing women. One of them is going to ID her."

  "What about dinner tonight?"

  "Sure," Steinbach said. "Where do you live?"

  "I'm in the West End, house-sitting."

  "That's fine," Steinbach said. "I'm partial to Culpeppers."

  "Seven?"

  "See you at seven." The man started to turn away.

  "Steinbach?"

  "Yes?"

  "What's you first name?"

  "Al."

  "Thanks for the call, Al."

  "Sure," Steinbach said. "See you at seven."

  ***

  Culpeppers did not spend a lot of money on ambience. It was a little bigger than your local bar, with two dining floors, the main and the basement. When Keough walked in he saw Detective Al Steinbach sitting at a table on the first floor. He had a beer in front of him. The other tables were all occupied, and so were the stools at the bar. Keough made his way between tables and joined Steinbach.

  "Well, your friend got here," a waitress said, appearing at Keough's elbow. She was in her fifties, with a round, pleasant face. "What can I get you to drink?"

  "Beer's listed on the menu," Steinbach said.

  "I'll just have iced tea, thanks."

  "Comin' up," the waitress said.

  Keough sat down across from Steinbach, who was still wearing the same suit he'd had on earlier in the day.

  "Did you get the ID made?"

  "Oh, yeah," Steinbach said. "It was bad. We've matched up the first two women and babies with the right men who reported them missing."

  "Are the kids home?"

  "Yes. The father who was a suspect has been cleared."

  The waitress came with Keough's iced tea, and they paused while she set it down.

  "So we're just waiting for the third mother and baby to show up."

  "I guess… you said you had something you wanted to tell me?"

  "You wanna order now?" the waitress asked.

  They paused again long enough to order before Keough answered Steinbach's question.

  He told the Major Case detective about Marie Tobin being attacked in the Crestwood Mall parking lot.

>   "Why do you think that's connected if she's got dark hair and she was just assaulted?" Steinbach asked, looking confused.

  "Let me finish."

  He told the man about Marie Tobin being with Debra Morgan, who was a look-alike for the dead girls.

  "Aha," Steinbach said. "So you think he attacked the Tobin woman because she got in the way."

  "Yes, that's what I think."

  "Can she ID him?"

  "She said she'll work with an artist."

  "I'll take care of that," Steinbach said.

  "There's something else I want to do."

  "What's that?"

  "I want to check with the mall security offices and see if there have been any other attacks like this one."

  "You think our man misses as much as he hits?"

  "Maybe."

  "You'll need help checking the malls."

  "Considering I don't know how many malls there are, yeah, I will."

  "Which ones do you know?"

  "Well, the Galleria, naturally. We have men and cars permanently assigned there. Then I know, uh, Crestwood and, uh, West County?"

  "The bird mall."

  "What?"

  "That's what my wife calls it," Steinbach said. "The bird mall. They've got a dove on a pole above the parking lot. You can't miss it."

  "Okay, so I'll take Galleria, Crestwood, and the, uh, bird mall."

  "Fine," Steinbach said, "I'll handle Northwest Plaza, Mid-Rivers, South County, and the others."

  "He's got to be using malls to troll for his victims because that's where you find mothers with strollers and babies."

  "Shit," Steinbach said, as if he just realized something.

  "What?"

  The waitress came with the food and they paused again while she served them.

  "What's on your mind?" he asked Steinbach.

  "Why only malls?" the other man asked. "Why not Toys'R'Us, grocery stores, shopping centers-Jesus, schools!"

  "He's not going to risk schools," Keough said, "but you're right about the other places."

  "There's too many to check them all."

  "Well, let's think about it. These places have parking lots, but they're a lot smaller than mall parking lots. It'd be too risky."

  "You might be right," Steinbach said, and then added, "You probably are right. Why don't we just stick with the malls? At least until we see what we can find out."

  "Agreed."

  "It's just a scary thought," Steinbach said. "I mean, imagine this guy trolling Toys'R'Us."

  "I know what you mean."

  They started eating.

  "You got kids?" Steinbach asked.

  "No," Keough said, "and I'm not married."

  "I've got two, but they're both teenagers-and my wife's not blond."

  "I wouldn't worry, Al."

  "If this gets out…"

  "Right now this is between you and me," Keough said. "You got a problem with keeping it that way until we find out more?"

  "Hell, no," Steinbach said. "We're gonna need more before we go to the brass with this, anyway."

  "What about Jackson? Do you want to bring him in on this?" Keough asked.

  "No," Steinbach said, shaking his head. "He'll resist this because it's your idea. I know him. He'll be an asshole to the end. I'll do an end run around him and talk to the captain."

  "All right," Keough said, "when the time's right I'll talk to Major O'Connell."

  "Okay."

  They gave their attention to dinner at that point, exchanging some more personal information about each other.

  "Kites?" Steinbach said, when Keough told him that he flew kites for relaxation.

  "That's right," he said. "I find it calming. I know, you think it's for kids-"

  "Hell, no," Steinbach said. "I used to enjoy flying kites with my kids, but they…"

  "Grew out of it?"

  "That's what I was gonna say, but-"

  "Forget it. Do you have any idea where I could go around here to put a kite in the air?"

  "Sure," Steinbach said, "Forest Park. In fact, there's a big kite fair once a year… I'm not sure of the time, though."

  "I'll find out," Keough said. "I've been pretty busy with work, and with settling in."

  "How'd you rate a house here in the West End?"

  Keough explained about house-sitting, and about getting the job from a friend.

  "Same guy who arranged my interview, by the way," Keough said.

  "Uh," Steinbach said, "I've got something to show you."

  "What?"

  Sheepishly, the man reached underneath his chair and came out with a book. It was Mike O'Donnell's Kopykat.

  "Jesus, where'd you get that?"

  "Across the street," Steinbach said. "Big Sleep Books sells mystery and suspense books. They've got a small true crime section, and they had one copy. I bought it."

  "Big Sleep?"

  "It's from a Raymond Chandler novel."

  "Oh."

  "You don't mind if I read this, do you?"

  "Hell no, go ahead," Keough said. "O'Donnell can use the royalties."

  He didn't bother to mention that he was in line for a piece of the action, as well.

  They finished dinner, paid the check-splitting it evenly-and left the place.

  "I can walk from here," Keough said.

  They shook hands.

  "I appreciate the good faith you're showing, Al," Keough said.

  "Hey," Steinbach said, "if what you're saying didn't make sense, I wouldn't be here. Let's get back in touch in a few days, or if one of us finds out something."

  "Okay."

  "See ya."

  He watched as Steinbach walked to the corner and then turned left to go to the public parking lot down the street on Maryland. He wondered what questions the man would have to ask after he finished reading Mike O'Donnell's book.

  He turned right and walked home, thinking about flying a kite.

  30

  The next day Keough found out the names of the officers who were permanently assigned to the Galleria Mall. He drove to the mall early, before most of the stores were open, and was surprised to find people already inside. Actually, finding them there wasn't surprising, what they were doing was.

  They were walking.

  Maybe he hadn't been to enough malls, or maybe it wasn't a practice in New York malls, or maybe he simply was never in a mall this early before, but seeing people walking in sweat suits, some of them carrying hand weights, was not what he expected. He was surprised that the people who ran the malls would open them up to… what were they called? Power walkers? Mall walkers?

  He located the security office and found a man on duty.

  "Can I help you?" He was wearing a gray mall security uniform and sporting a belly that hung over his belt. His hair was white. He could have been forty with prematurely white hair, or a young-looking sixty, or anywhere in between.

  Keough showed his badge and identified himself.

  "Your guys are not in the office right now," the man said. "They got a desk and some file cabinets in a room in the back-"

  "Actually," Keough said, "I wanted to talk to one of your guys first."

  "Oh? Which one?"

  "Anyone," Keough said. "Maybe you could help me out."

  "I'm all ears," the man said. "The name's Cates, by the way, Pat Cates."

  Keough shook hands with the man and said, "Joe Keough, Pat. Good to meet you."

  "What can I do for you, Joe?"

  "You can run down for me what happens when someone is assaulted on mall property. I mean, inside the mall, or in the parking lots."

  "Well, that depends. If we see what's goin' on we interfere. If the victim reports it we'll take a look around the mall for the perpetrator."

  "And what happens when you catch him?"

  "We radio your guys to come and get them."

  "Do you and the cops ever work together looking for somebody?"

  "Oh, sure," he said, "your guys carry one of our
radios as well as their own units. We stay in touch and coordinate our efforts."

  "And do you keep a written report on the incident?"

  "Sure we do, and so do your guys."

  With duplicate reports, Keough thought his job was probably going to be easier than he thought.

  "Pat, I need to check out assault reports for the past two months or so."

  "Okay," Cates said, "we have a clerical who could do that for you. Just assaults?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "You don't want to know about attempted assaults?"

  Keough thought a moment, then nodded.

  "Yeah, I do." A blown attempt by the perp might be as important as a successful one. "How soon can I get that information?"

  "Well, that depends," Cates said, scratching his head. "The clerical comes in at eleven."

  "What about the other files?"

  "Your guys' files?"

  "Yeah."

  "That might take longer."

  "What if I looked myself?"

  "If you got that much time to spend," Cates said, "but you'll have to clear that with your boys."

  "I'll wait for them."

  "You got your radio on you?"

  "I do."

  "Why don't you get some coffee. I'll tell your guy to radio you when he gets here."

  "Cup of coffee sounds good," Keough said. "Can I bring one back for you?"

  "No thanks," Cates said. "I get plenty of coffee during the day, let me tell you."

  "Where's the closest place?"

  "St. Louis Bread Company. It's right behind the escalators by the big fountain. Can't miss it."

  "Will they be open this early?"

  "Sure," Cates said, "they do an early business selling the mall walkers drinks."

  "Okay, I'll do that, then. See you later, and thanks for your help."

  "Sure, no problem. Like I said, we cooperate with each other."

  ***

  Keough found the St. Louis Bread Company with no trouble. They had all kinds of special coffees, which he had come to know from some of the other cafes he'd been frequenting, but he still ordered whatever was the closest to just a simple black coffee.

  He took his coffee to a table where he could look out at the mall through a window. Some of the mall walkers were still at it, but they were mingling now with the shoppers who were coming in early to wait for the stores to open. They mingled out in the mall, and also in the shop where he was. He listened as people ordered everything from simple bottled water to all kinds of lattes and granitas.