Wrath's Storm: A Masters' Admiralty Novel

by Mari Carr

  His chest tightened a little as he watched the subtle interchange between Jakob and Annalise as he sat with his wine. She had slipped off her shoes upon sitting and her feet were resting on the ottoman closest to Jakob’s chair. She shifted them over a bit so that there would be room for his feet as well. Jakob gave her a soft smile as he lifted his next to hers.

  Annalise reached for her bag, which was resting beside her chair, and she pulled out the same files they’d been studying at the restaurant before someone—God knew who—had interrupted their meeting.

  For a moment, Walt wondered where Eric was and if he’d gotten away. He dismissed that concern immediately. Satan himself would probably struggle to bring the fleet admiral down.

  “I need more information,” she said.

  “Okay,” Walt said. “How do we get it?”

  Annalise separated out two case files from the pile on her lap. “We go and Walt speaks to the coroner.”

  “You want me to talk to a medical examiner?” Walt asked. “I’m not sure if I’ve said this before—oh wait, I have. I’m not a forensic pathologist.”

  “Travel?” Jakob said, his eyebrows furrowed. It was clear he didn’t like the idea of Annalise being exposed any more than necessary.

  “You said ‘coroner’ not ‘coroners.’” Walt paused. “I thought there were two potential victims.”

  “Yes,” Annalise said firmly. The professor was back in her voice. “We are going to Krakow. Alicja Lewandowski’s case is the most complete, with the most potential for additional information. So, who’s up for a trip to Poland?” she asked, holding the file up.

  Walt looked at Jakob, then reached for the file. “I’ve always wanted to see Krakow in the winter. Anyone up for a walk around Old Town?”

  Chapter Eight

  Holy shit.

  This was gross.

  Jakob stood by the door of the morgue, glad that he had an excuse—keeping watch—to stay away from the autopsy table where Walt, Annalise, and Dr. Adamicz were bent over a body. Not the body of Alicja Lewandowski—she’d died nearly a year ago, before Josephine was killed. Given the state of Alicja’s body, her relative—an elderly aunt—had opted for cremation, though that wasn’t common in Poland. Scattering ashes was still illegal.

  Jakob had listened while Annalise talked about Alicja’s case. He would listen to her read the phone book. He loved the sound of her voice.

  Loved her.

  Which Walt clearly suspected, the Rotzlöffel.

  “Would a hunter have that level of knowledge?” Annalise asked, dragging Jakob’s attention back to death, away from his ridiculous, embarrassing, unrequited love.

  She liked the house. She noticed everything you did for her, even if she’ll never know the house was designed and remodeled with her in mind. Her safety, her happiness, her pleasure.

  Maybe he could sell it to her and her trinity. Then at least she could appreciate it while she was happily married to two people worthy of her.

  Dr. Adamicz was standing across the table from Walt and Annalise, who were both suited up in disposable white gowns, gloves, and plastic face shields. Dr. Adamicz reached across the table, grabbed the corpse’s arm closest to Annalise and Walt, and tipped the body up.

  “Feel here, along the back of the neck,” Dr. Adamicz invited, pointing with his free hand. “Dr. Hayden was right to point out that the killer had to understand the human spine. If you are dismembering an animal to transport after a kill, you take the head off at the base of the skull.” He pointed to the top of the corpse’s neck, just under the hair. “On a human, it would be here. Now, would a hunter try for that point? Possibly, but hunters usually do not go between vertebrae like that one did.” Dr. Adamicz let the body flop down.

  The sheet slid off and Jakob was treated to a view of a flaccid, dead dick. He wondered who this poor fucker had been.

  Annalise grabbed the medical drape, placing it back over the dead man’s crotch. Shit like that was why he loved her. He could trust her to cover up his dick if he was dead.

  Thinking about his dick and Annalise at the same time was a very bad idea. He stared hard at the Y incision on the corpse’s chest.

  “You ruled the cause of death as asphyxiation.”

  “Yes, due to the swelling of the right side of the heart and…” He paused, took a phone from his pocket, typed something in, and then held it out. “I had to look up the word in English.”

  “Cyanosis,” Walt read aloud. “Lack of oxygen. Skin, mucus membranes, will turn blue. That’s a classic sign of strangulation.”

  Dr. Adamicz raised a finger. “Or suffocation. The decapitation trauma to the neck obscured any ligature or finger marks there might have been. But dilation of the heart, the blue skin, and a small amount of petechial hemorrhage could be from strangulation or suffocation.” He raised one hand. “Asphyxiation.”

  “And you haven’t had any other bodies here in Krakow that were dismembered?” Annalise asked.

  “Not like that. Back when the mafia was more prevalent, we had some mob-style torture and killings. They cut off bits. If it’s dropped in the woods in Wolski Forest, animals might eat the body. But they start with the soft bits. Face, guts.”

  This was so gross.

  “Nowadays, we’re dealing with gang kills. They’re more straightforward. Shoot, bang, dead.”

  Jakob sucked in a breath, through his nose, and was overwhelmed by the smell of formaldehyde and…verdammter Mist…he didn’t want to know what else.

  “If you are here, you’ve found another body?” Dr. Adamicz rubbed gloved hands together and stared at Annalise, whose name he’d recognized based on a few papers she’d written. “A serial killer?”

  “Possibly. But the geography is unusual.”

  “Where else were bodies found?”

  Annalise smiled at the doctor, but it wasn’t her real, good smile. It was polite, neutral. “We’re keeping that information private.”

  “Yes, yes. In case I am the killer.”

  Dr. Adamicz seemed a little too excited about the idea he might be a suspected serial killer.

  “Is there anything else you think we should know?” Walt asked. “Anything you didn’t put in the report?”

  Dr. Adamicz pursed his lips, then hustled over to his computer, which was on a rolling stand in the corner. How the fuck anyone could work with dead bodies just behind them was beyond Jakob’s understanding. This…this was how zombies happened.

  A few clicks later and the doctor had the now familiar images of Alicja’s body up on the screen. He flicked through those, then pulled up the report itself. Annalise and Walt had wandered over to stand by him.

  “I didn’t have her all at once. Never did find the last few pieces. She came in bit by bit. The last few bits…” He raised and wiggled a hand. “They had to send cadaver dogs to the landfill. Actually, we ended up with an extra foot after that. But the head, which we found first, was wrapped in plastic, and then put in a wooden crate with a lid, before going in the garbage. The people who found it actually wanted the crate. It was a nice crate.”

  “Interesting. What makes you call it a nice crate?” Annalise asked.

  “Good quality, finish still on it. Cedar, I believe. Like something your grandmother kept blankets in.”

  “A blanket chest,” Walt said.

  “Chest, not crate. Yes, that is the right word.” They were speaking English, and though Dr. Adamicz was fluent, there were some words he’d stumbled over.

  “I didn’t see pictures of the crate in the file,” Annalise said. “Do you have photos?”

  “No, I saw it in the forensics lab when I went to flirt with Dr. Banik.” Dr. Adamicz gave Walt the once-over, and then winked suggestively.

  Walt didn’t look put off or shocked.

  He returned the wink with a playful grin.

  Huh. Interesting.

  Jakob rarely thought about other people’s sexuality. It didn’t matter to him for a number of reasons, first of
which it was none of his damned business. Second, once he’d joined the Masters’ Admiralty, he had started diligently watching gay porn so he was prepared if he got a husband and a wife. Jakob would do his duty toward his spouses, and if, at least at the beginning, he would be thinking of Annalise, that was something no one ever had to know.

  And yet, the fact that Walt was interested in men intrigued him, and he wasn’t entirely sure why.

  He also wasn’t worried about the fact that Walt was standing shoulder to shoulder with Annalise. He trusted the other man, based on nothing more than instinct. Well, that and his behavior toward her. He’d taken care of, and cared for her in a way Jakob could not. Annalise trusted him too, that much was clear, though if Jakob had asked her about it, she wouldn’t say she trusted him. She no longer trusted her instincts or herself.

  Though now that she was working this case…he wasn’t sure if that was still as true as it would have been a year or even six months ago.

  “None of the rest of her was as carefully packaged. Not by the time we found her. Maybe there were other chests, and people emptied out the body parts and took the chests.”

  That was a fun visual.

  “I remember that the head smelled.” Dr. Adamicz grinned. “Not the normal smell. I remember that it smelled floral. Something strong, almost enough to cover up the scent of desiccation.”

  Annalise arched a brow. “Why didn’t you note that?”

  “The smell didn’t last long once it was unwrapped. Possibly her shampoo or perfume if she wore it here.” He touched his neck just under the ear. “That kind of transfer should be noted at the scene. Here, there are too many other possibilities for contamination. That is the only thing I didn’t put in the report because it couldn’t be verified by my colleagues or the on-site investigator.”

  “Thank you,” Annalise said. “This has been very helpful. Walt, do you have any other questions?”

  “No, but thank you for letting me look at the aorta.” Walt motioned to the man on the table. “I’d never seen a burst aortic aneurysm in person.”

  Dr. Adamicz grinned. “A good way to die. Ow, ow.” He clutched his chest. “Then you’re dead.”

  “Jakob, did you have any questions?” Annalise turned to him, smiling as she asked.

  What he wanted to say was: No, I want to get out of here and away from that lunatic coroner, and I might break his neck on the way out because honestly, he might be the killer, he’s so damned weird and creepy.

  He shook his head once.

  They said their goodbyes and rode the elevator up and out of the basement morgue. They checked out at the desk, quiet as they walked past somber, grim people in the waiting room, some of whom were probably there to identify bodies or find out how, exactly, loved ones had died.

  Once they were out on the street, Annalise stepped to the side, motioning for them to join her, though Jakob never got more than half a meter away from her.

  “Jakob, can you get a copy of the full report on Alicja, including the pictures of the chest her head was in? I assume they tried to trace it, but I want to know more.”

  He nodded, secretly thrilled she asked him to do anything. He angled his body so that she was fully protected—a wall at her back, Walt’s big body serving as a shield from one direction and himself from the other. Jakob pulled out his phone and texted his vice admiral, who would be able to get the records, though Pia was none too pleased that Jakob was being closemouthed about why he and Annalise had gone to Krakow, and therefore into the Hungary territory. Luckily, everyone was so used to him not communicating, they accepted that he wasn’t going to say anything until he was good and ready. Or in this case, until the fleet admiral lifted the gag order.

  “If the head was carefully packaged, that means the killer…tried to take care of the body?” Walt asked as Jakob typed his text.

  “Possibly.” Annalise sounded slightly distant, as if she were more focused on her thoughts than what she was saying. “There are certainly parallels between this case and Josephine’s, though the location of Josephine’s head had, I still believe, more to do with shock value. But if that came from the partner, possibly the dominant partner…” Annalise was thinking out loud, words rapid, sentences unfinished. “Placing the head in a basket, then leaving it in a place of beauty such as the library…to satisfy the killer’s compulsion…on the partner’s order, if it was a dominant and submissive partnership.”

  “So Petro probably asked this guy to do the killing because he knew the killer had this need to cut off the head, and he could twist that so the head ended up where he wanted it.” Walt folded his arms, shaking his head.

  Jakob’s phone binged with a reply. He tucked it into his pocket. “Pia Klein will send the files when she has them, though it may take some time.”

  Walt frowned. “Shit, did you just use up your whole allotment of words for the week?”

  Annalise’s lips twitched, but she playfully punched Walt. “Be nice.”

  “I was just teasing. Remember, triplet.” He pointed at himself.

  The mention of siblings wiped the smile from Annalise’s face. Walt’s eyes widened, and he glanced at Jakob, then put a gentle hand on Annalise’s shoulder. “How about that walk around Old Town?”

  “We should go back to the hotel.” They’d arrived early yesterday afternoon, settling into their rooms and relaxing for a few hours before going downstairs for a quick dinner in the hotel restaurant. After dinner, they’d retired to their rooms for the night. Jakob had booked a secure suite for himself and Annalise—he’d slept on the couch—while Walt stayed in the room next door.

  Walt looked at Jakob. How could he not see that being stuck in the hotel room again today was the last thing she needed? Before he could say anything, Annalise spoke up for herself.

  “No, Jakob,” Annalise said. “Please. I need to do something normal. Something fun. I’m tired of hiding.”

  Jakob frowned, and Walt could tell how torn the man was. Given the fact he’d designed Annalise’s dream house, it was obvious there was precious little the man wouldn’t give her. But that truth was warring with the Ritter’s unshakable determination to protect her no matter what.

  “It’s not safe,” Jakob said as last.

  Annalise shook her head. “I’m not going back to the hotel. We’re in Krakow, not Frankfurt or Heidelberg.”

  “That doesn’t mean—” Jakob started.

  “He’s not here,” Annalise insisted.

  Jakob wasn’t going down without a fight. “You can’t know that.”

  “Why would my stalker be in Krakow?” Annalise demanded.

  “Jakob.” Walt took a step closer to the other man and placed a comforting arm on his shoulder. “There are two of us now. We won’t take unnecessary risks and we’ll stay in well-populated, busy areas. We’ll keep her safe. Together.”

  “Please,” Annalise said softly. “It’s been so many years since…”

  Jakob sighed. Her quiet plea partnered with Walt’s reassurances had won the argument.

  “You will stay close to us,” Jakob said. “At all times.”

  Walt was honored to have earned Jakob’s trust. He suspected that when it came to Annalise’s safety, the Ritter trusted no one.

  Annalise’s huge smile after his capitulation apparently overshadowed Jakob’s concerns as he returned her happy grin with one of his own.

  It changed Jakob’s entire appearance…and Walt suddenly noticed exactly how attractive Annalise’s bodyguard was. He was starting to understand the appeal.

  Of course, because it was Jakob, the smile was short-lived and within seconds, he’d schooled his features once more, his intense, determined countenance firmly in place again.

  “Where should we go first?” Annalise asked, as Jakob stepped to the curb and raised his hand, waving down a taxi.

  Walt rubbed his hands together in glee. “I was hoping you would ask that. How would the two of you feel about a visit to the Pharmacy Museum?”r />
  Annalise laughed and shook her head, even though Walt didn’t doubt for a moment he was going to get his way. She was so happy about her brief respite from the terror of the past few years, she’d happily follow him anywhere. “You’re joking, right? I mean we’re in Krakow and that’s your first choice of tourist attraction?”

  A taxi pulled up to the curb. Walt slid across the backseat first, Annalise next, and Jakob following last. It was a tight fit. Walt had a feeling he and Jakob would be flanking Annalise during every step of today’s adventure.

  “Gdzie?” the taxi driver asked.

  While Walt didn’t speak much Polish—okay, he spoke no Polish—it wasn’t hard to figure out what the man was asking. “Old Town. Pharmacy Museum,” he said, hoping the man spoke enough English to understand him.

  The driver nodded to let them know he understood. “Tak,” he replied.

  Walt grinned. Now he knew one word of Polish. Yes.

  “Dziękuję Ci,” Annalise said.

  Walt raised his eyebrows, impressed.

  “Don’t get excited,” Annalise said in response. “I can speak enough to find us a restroom or order a cup of coffee. After that, we’re in trouble.”

  Walt and Annalise both glanced over at Jakob, who grinned ruefully. “I only know curse words.” There was a long pause, and Walt thought he was done, but then, Jakob added, “My friends from school and I taught ourselves how to say fuck, dick, and shit in twenty different languages.”

  Walt laughed. “Useful skill. Considering it appears we’re up shit…” He paused, staring pointedly at Jakob.

  “Gówno,” Jakob supplied without hesitation.

  “Up gówno creek without a paddle,” Walt finished.

  The cab driver eyed them in the rearview mirror.

  “You have such an interesting way of speaking,” Annalise said, amused by Walt’s joke.

  “Oh, that right there is the Southern boy in me.”

  Neither Jakob nor Annalise seemed to have a clue what that meant, but they both chuckled, shaking their heads as he accentuated his South Carolina drawl for their benefit.