Pure Instinct (Instinct thriller series)

by Robert W. Walker

  “Precisely.” Kim drank deeply of the water now.

  “Can you tell us anything—anything at all about being him?” Jessica asked.

  “He's embittered, jealous, vengeful and full of rage all the time. Whoever he is, he's self-conscious....”

  “About what?” Jessica pressed.

  “His looks, his skin... some mark on his skin. And so he wears heavy makeup. It's the only time he goes to a mirror. Self-conscious about his weight and height and general ap-pearance, and he's got a mind full of bubbling hatred and emotional turmoil.”

  “Anything else?” asked Zanek.

  “No...nothing else, except for one thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “He intends to kill again.”

  “Why, and for how long?”

  “He doesn't know himself.”

  “Does he have any remorse?”

  “None of consequence, no; the pleasure overtakes him.”

  “The pleasure?” asked Stephens.

  “He derives great emotional release in controlling others.”

  “Controlling others?”

  “The ultimate power trip, complete control,” said Paul Zanek knowingly.

  Jessica added, “This creep's like that bastard Matisak. A freaked-out maniac who gets high on controlling life and death. He gets his rocks off when he gets to play God, when he gets to decide.”

  “Gets to decide,” muttered Stephens, trying to follow Jessica's train of thought.

  “On whether or not you get to live or to die, Mr. Stephens.”

  “And the taking of the heart?” asked Stephens.

  “The ultimate warrior's prize, like eating the heart of the buffalo maybe,” Jessica suggested.

  “Could be any number of whys for the heart thefts,” Kim interjected. “Maybe he's a hopeless romantic, and maybe he enshrines the hearts like so many trophies, signs of his conquests.”

  “Agreed,” replied Jessica, “but it's much more likely the bastard's eating his trophies, that he's a cannibal like the Claw in New York a couple of years ago.”

  “You've dealt with more of these monsters than I have, Dr. Coran, so I bow to your judgment,” Kim said. “But isn't it also true that each one, while similar in many regards and while despicable and capable of inhuman and unholy acts, is uniquely twisted? That is, perverted in a fashion that is almost surely private and born of a unique fantasy world whose rules only the individual knows?”

  Jessica bit her lower lip and considered the inherent warning that Kim was passing along: You don't catch one maniac by presupposing him to be the same as the last. She knew that, had always known that and had proven it time and again, both in the lab and in the field. But lately all the monsters roaming the black patches of the planet had converged into a single satanic creature for Jessica, and as with everything else in her life, her professional acumen had fallen serious prey to the Matisak syndrome she was under. And somehow Kim Desinor both knew this and understood, acknowledging Jessica's painful response.

  “Well, it appears we have much work to do,” Zanek said, having regained his professional distance on matters. “I believe, Commissioner Stephens, that you will be pleased with the team of Coran and Desinor.”

  The two women exchanged a final look before Stephens and Zanek shook on it.

  8

  A wise man's heart is like a broad

  hearth that keeps the coals (his passions)

  from burning the house.

  —Sir Thomas Overbury

  The New Orleans police commissioner approached Kim Faith Desinor where she rested now on Paul Zanek's couch. Jessica and Paul looked on as Stephens said, “I have one last envelope I would like you to take a look at, Dr. Desinor.” Zanek stepped in protectively, a cold glare for Stephens, and without a word the other man amended himself, saying, “That is, if you're up to it?”

  “I think she's had enough for one day, Stephens.”

  “No,” Kim breathlessly said, “no, let's finish this now, Paul.” She pulled herself up to a sitting position, took a deep breath, closed her eyes and silently counted to ten as she exhaled.

  Jessica had to admire the woman's courage and stamina. Stephens now brought the second stack of photos to her. This time the victims were face up, having been turned to pose for the camera, their wounds thrown bare for the camera to catch, each in his deathly state: each young man's chest ripped open, each heart removed and replaced by the monster's idea of a receipt for the large muscle, the eye of the queen on a dirty, stained and frilled playing card staring up from three of the photos. Bile and blood had discolored most of the “cards,” but from closely angled shots Kim could see that the cards were stitched together with meticulous care, the original colors a rainbow of tints.

  Each of these shots also showed the devastation done to the lower portion of the body about the privates.

  “You see why you must help us, Doctor?” Stephens sounded even more desperate than before.

  Kim wiped her brow with a handkerchief offered her earlier by Zanek. “How are the local guys going to handle help from an outsider, a woman and a psychic at that?” she wanted to know.

  “You're not entirely an outsider,” replied Jessica. “Didn't you grow up in the city?”

  Zanek quickly added, “And so far as anyone will know, you're an independent psychic detective called in by the NOPD. And Stephens will run interference for you with the detectives and the press, if it comes to that.”

  “It's not the press I'm worried about. They'll paint some lurid pictures, but that I'm used to.”

  “Anyone else gives you a problem, let us know,” Stephens assured her.

  Kim looked around at the three high-ranking law-enforcement officials who'd cornered her. “It doesn't appear I have much choice....”

  “Then you'll do it? You'll come to New Orleans?”

  “Just remember this, Stephens,” cautioned Zanek. “We're very serious about keeping Dr. Desinor's association with the Bureau in-house. The Bureau is no more in the business of psychic detection than it is into UFO investigation. Are you clear on that?”

  “Completely understood... no problem, Chief Zanek.”

  “Dr. Desinor's introduction into the case must be handled with delicacy and tact, and one hell of a good cover. She'll retain her name, but we've arranged a bogus front, a separate identity. She's been working as a psychic detective out of Florida for the past several years, and since this closely shadows her real life there two years ago, she won't have any problem maintaining this cover. Kim,” he continued, turning to her, “we've arranged to open a storefront detective agency in the Miami-Dade area. That meet with your approval?”

  Just how much attention had Paul given this step both Kim and Jessica now wondered simultaneously, and when their eyes met, it was as if their thoughts were spoken.

  “Here's the paperwork,” Paul continued. “Dr. Coran'll run you through your paces, and Dr. Desinor, please make sure you learn exactly who you are, what you've been doing for the past several years, understood? Kept it fairly simple, actually, returning you to your old haunts in Florida.”

  It sounded like “where I discovered you” to Kim. She had stopped listening by now anyway as Paul turned to Stephens, continuing on. “But it's a no-go if you can't insure that Dr. Desinor will remain incognito. And of course, you'll make arrangements for Dr. Coran's introduction into the case as well.”

  “Consider all arrangements made, and believe me, I've already sounded out the governor, the mayor and my people on the importance of secrecy, and everyone agrees there'll be no problem. Really, a psychic in our city...well, it's really no big deal in the Big Easy.”

  Kim took a deep breath and stood, finding Jessica's arm and the strength she required. The feeling had returned to her body, but a slight dizziness remained. “I'll have to see to sorting out a few things downstairs first, make sure the lab's in good hands, all that before I go jetting off,” Kim said.

  “Not to worry,” countered Pa
ul. “I've talked to Dr. To-kutsu, and he'll give your apologies to your colleagues, your techs and your trainee.”

  Dr. Haruo “Harry” Tokutsu was senior assistant in the operation of the unit which had been built around Kim. He was an ambitious man even by Japanese-American standards, and he was a gifted psychic in his own right.

  “Time I get back, Harry'll be dug in like a badger,” she half joked, and watched for Paul's reaction. But the man's granite features gave nothing away this time.

  “Your flight to New Orleans with Commissioner Stephens here has been arranged. You just need to be packed and at the airstrip at 1400 hours, Kim.”

  “Two P.M.? Today?”

  “It's all arranged.”

  “I'll need more time than that.”

  “Just pack a bag.”

  “I'll take a flight out tomorrow morning,” she declared, holding firmly to her ground against Zanek, which Jessica found herself helplessly smiling at. She could like this woman. Anyone who could hold her own with Paul Nathan Zanek in the man's own office was to be admired.

  “All right,” Zanek relented. “We'll arrange a flight out for you tomorrow then.”

  Dr. Desinor said her good-byes, asking that Stephens leave the rosary beads with its crystal cross in her possession for the time being. “You can leave it with Chief Zanek, if you will.” It appeared she didn't relish the idea of handling the object again in the immediate future.

  She then exited, still a bit shaken from the session. Jessica didn't fail to miss the long, parting look which lingered between Paul Zanek and the psychic before Kim disappeared.

  Stephens next picked up his items and envelopes, all save the unusual rosary. Jessica lifted the long black beads and the shimmering, crystal cross, surprised at its weight, and she assured Paul that she'd personally keep it for Dr. Desinor.

  “I think she intends to use it again for insights into your case,” said Zanek, shaking hands with Stephens before returning to his seat behind the big desk.

  Stephens, in no position to argue, nodded and thanked Zanek profusely. Then he warmly shook Jessica's hand, saying he'd see her aboard the waiting Air Force jet which was due for takeoff in a few hours. Stephens then took his leave, a much-pleased man whose confident step had been somewhat eroded by what he'd just witnessed.

  After the door closed on Stephens's retreating form and his bundle of envelopes, Jessica asked point-blank, “What's going on between you and Dr. Desinor, Paul?”

  “What hellacious garbage is that you're talking, Doctor? I just went to her aid. My God, she was in a fit of fear. I did what anyone might've done, Jess.”

  “Paul, I'm a detective. I detect things, remember?”

  “Not some things you don't. My relationship with Kim is really none of your business. Leave it alone,” he suddenly snapped.

  “All right, I'll do that.”

  “You'll take the flight back with P.C. Stephens in her place, reassure him we'll do everything in our power, all that...”

  “I'm not sure I can be packed in an hour either, Paul, but for you I'll try.”

  “Hey, this entire crazy scheme was your idea in the first place, remember? All of a sudden you've got a yen to see Sew Orleans up close. Damnit, I swear, Jess, if you weren't who you are... well, just... just be at the airstrip.”

  “Fine, but I don't want to see Waite and Thatcher there, got it?”

  “Don't leave home without 'em, Jess.”

  “Like a Mutt-and-Jeff, Abbott-and-Costello pair tripping over one another everywhere I go? No, thanks, Paul, and I mean it.” He returned a stern look and said, “Those men have been specially trained for this kind of duty, Jess, and they've been in position for your safety and for good reason, Jess.”

  “They're a drain on the national economy and on my well-being, and they're a pain in the ass, Paul. Now, I thought we were clear on this issue. I usually do as I'm told, just what you wish, but I won't budge on this one, Paul.”

  “Don't give me that shit. If it were up to me, you wouldn't be going to New Orleans at all, much less without bodyguards! Going over my head to Santiva on this, Jess, that hurt.”

  So he had seen Santiva; so everything was in the open after all. “Come on, Paul. Admit it, you didn't take me seriously. You weren't listening; you were only pretending to listen. One of your less admirable traits, I might add.”

  “That's not fair.”

  “You left me no other choice, and Santiva's got the chutzpah to let me see this thing out.”

  “Christ, Jess, you think so? Damnit, I still don't feel comfortable with this. I just don't like the idea of your opening yourself up to a possible attack, using—”

  “There's no way I'm going on status quo!”

  “Using your self as god damn bait for a madman? That Santiva guy's as nuts as you are, and as soon as the New Orleans papers get wind—”

  “I'll keep a low profile.”

  “—that you're on the case, Matisak's going to be on his way. But you know that....”

  I'm counting on it, she thought. “I'm a big girl, Paul.”

  “You don't make protecting your ass an easy chore, Jessica Coran.”

  “Maybe that's the way it should be; besides, it's my ass, Paul, and it's been damn near six months. Could you live this way for two? I can't and I won't, not anymore. I'm sick to death of dancing to his fiddle.”

  “Got it all figured out, do you?”

  “No, not entirely, but one thing's for sure. It's either him or me now, and if New Orleans is to be the O.K. Corral, then as the song says, 'Let it be.' “

  “Bob Waite and Greg Thatcher'll be glad to hear it put so eloquently. Maybe you can sing the tune to them.”

  “I got Archer on my own. I suppose I can do the same with Matisak, if he gives me the slightest opportunity.”

  “Christ, you talk about it as if it were a bloody tennis match or a game of chess.”

  “Maybe it is.”

  “With your life in the balance? You've got some nerve, Jess, I'll give you that.”

  “I'm still the best shot in the division.”

  “When your nerves are steady.”

  “I'm absolutely in control of my nerves.”

  He came around to her and put his arm around her shoulder in a fatherly fashion. “Kiddo, this monster is enough to unnerve anyone, and knowing he's watching your every move, stalking you like a friggin' werewolf... don't tell me it doesn't eat away at you. I know you too well for that.”

  “I'm ready to have an end to it, Paul. One way or another, I'm exhausted and I want my life back!” She pulled away from him, knowing his reputation for pawing the ladies in the department.

  “Don't expect me to like it, Jess, or to approve of this foolish behavior. I can't authorize this, and Santiva's crazy if he does. It's against all policy. If you go without an escort, it won't be my ass they fry in the end. It'll be Santiva's, the new director who should've known fucking better.”

  “True to form, Paul, ever the 'company' man, clawing your way to the top. I think you like the idea Santiva's gone out on a limb for me. I knew I could count on that. Now you listen to me: I'm ready to face the satanic son of a bitch today, tomorrow, when he comes, but I'm not willing to let it drag on another six months, another year and another. I just can't live like this another day.”

  He swallowed a large dose of resignation while her eyes bored into him. “No matter my aspirations in the company, less, you've got to know how much I care about you. I'm only thinking of your safety.”

  “Give it up, Paul. It's not your concern anymore. And promise, whatever you do, don't let it get around where I am, Paul, okay?”

  “Everybody's going to know, Jess. Soon as the New Orleans press gets wind.”

  “Just keep it as quiet as possible for as long as possible then, okay?”

  He wondered at both her reasoning and her madness. “You :an't keep information like that quiet for very long.”

  “I don't want Jim Parry knowing.”
/>
  “Ahh, now the truth comes out, I see. You know that he'd be just as upset with you as I am if he knew.”

  “More so.”

  “Look, I won't spill it to him, but he's going to learn about it and soon.”

  “I know that.”

  Again the look of resignation and veiled disgust wafted across Zanek's features. “Santiva had no right stepping into this,” he complained, his eyes narrowing as if hatching some way to get back at the senior man.

  “It wasn't his fault. I pushed him into the middle. Let it be, Paul.”

  He dropped his gaze, played a moment with straightening (lis desk blotter, in disarray since Kim Desinor's psychic ruminations over what Stephens had placed before her. Under (lis breath, his voice growing in intensity as he spoke, Paul finally said, “Good luck in New Orleans then, and Jess, be careful down there. Watch your back and stay outta the shadows and hang with the crowd, okay?”

  “What's that, water buffalo wisdom? Around the pond? Herd mentality and safety in numbers may not apply. They say in New Orleans you're always in a crowd, that your back is always exposed. That's why so many people go there, to become a part of the 'mob' mentality of the parades and the Mardi Gras and to purposely expose their breasts, remember?”

  “And you?” he challenged. “You going there to expose yourself to Matisak is just crazy, Jess.”

  She smiled across at him and said, “New Orleans is the crazy capital of the world. Come on, stop worrying about me, Paul, and start watching out for yourself.”

  “And what's that supposed to mean?”

  “Whatever you want it to mean. But just you be careful too, Paul. Watch the knife to the back yourself. I'd like to know you'll be here when I get back. I'd like to know some things in life are permanent.”

  “Hate to burst your bubble, sweetheart, but there just ain't no such animal as permanent, not in this life.”

  “Maybe not in the next either,' she countered, halfway to the door now. “All the same, be here when I get back, okay? I'd hate to have to break in a new guy, or gal.”