Blood Contest

by P. K. Abbot

  Annie was clearly flustered now. Her face was bright red, and she was breathing erratically. She pushed Alex’s hand away from her face and said, “I would never cheat on Pete.”

  Alex had lost patience now. “You should relax, Miss Priss. I would never force you to do what you know you would enjoy. You would be safe with me, and Pete would never know.”

  “But I would know,” Annie replied. Then she pushed past Alex and rushed through the door.

  When Annie and Alex returned to the table, the men could see that they had had a fight. Ryan and Alex continued to party, but Annie had become withdrawn. Mueller was concerned about her, but she would not tell him what had upset her so much.

  As soon as midnight passed, Annie made an excuse about not feeling well, and she asked Mueller to take her back to their room.

  When Annie and Mueller were in the elevator, they saw Alex and Ryan at the far end of the corridor. They were coming toward them, and Ryan was holding a bottle of Stoli under his arm.

  “Quick, Pete,” Annie said. “Close the door before they get here. I cannot spend another moment with her tonight.”

  Mueller was confused, but he still pushed the button to close the door. He did not know why she wanted him to do that, but he did it anyway – because she asked him, because he was her rock.

  “What is really the matter with you?” he asked.

  “Nothing now,” she smiled. She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him.

  Chapter 19

  Friday, January 1

  By 10:00 AM, Mueller and Annie were awake, but they hardly stirred. Their heads ached. Their bodies ached. Their mouths were dry. They were still suffering from the previous night.

  After a quarter-hour, they dressed in their robes. They walked out to the common area between the two suites and sat on the sofa beneath the skylight. The warmth of the sun there was comforting, but the brightness of the sunlight was painful for them in their current condition.

  The hotel had provided a butler to serve them coffee, orange juice, and breakfast. They enjoyed the coffee and juice but were still a little too hung over to enjoy the perfectly poached eggs Benedict.

  By 11:30, Ryan finally stumbled into the common area. As bad as Mueller and Annie felt, Ryan must have felt so much worse. He looked horrible. His eyes were bloodshot. His skin was sallow. He had beads of sweat on his lip. He looked like he might retch at any moment. He could not stop drinking water.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Annie laughed.

  Ryan just grunted.

  “Where is Alex?” Mueller asked.

  “Since she was off last night,” Ryan replied, “she has to work today.”

  “Is she getting dressed?”

  “No. She is already gone. She had to start her round of the markets by 4 AM — you know, to buy provisions for the club’s restaurant.”

  “Did you get any sleep?”

  “I slept a little after she left, but she got no sleep at all.”

  “Why not?” Mueller asked.

  Ryan laughed in a vulgar, lewd way. “Let me just tell you that that girl knows how to bring in the New Year.”

  Annie feigned a retching sound. She stood up, and turned toward Ryan.

  “Please,” she said, “I cannot take another moment of this. I am leaving.”

  Annie picked up the remote control and walked over to the opposite side of the room, where the television was.

  After a few moments, Annie called over to Mueller and Ryan.

  “Hey, you guys should look at this.”

  Ryan and Mueller looked toward her and saw a photograph of Governor Jamieson on the television. Will Cooper came on the screen and started speaking.

  “A tragedy struck an historical reenactment today, and Governor Jamieson narrowly escaped injury or death.

  “The annual commemoration of General Washington crossing the Delaware before the battle of Trenton took place today. Because of last week’s snowstorm, the festivity had been rescheduled from Christmas Day to today.

  “Governor Jamieson was on hand to welcome General Washington as he landed with his army of Revolutionary War impersonators on the New Jersey side of the river.

  “It is usually a happy historical and political occasion, but it was not so today.

  “A podium had been set up near the top of the riverbank for the Governor’s speech, but, at the last moment, Governor Jamieson decided on his own to leave the podium and to personally greet General Washington at the bottom of the riverbank where his boat would land.

  “Shortly after Governor Jamieson left his podium, an explosive device detonated near the podium and severely injured six bystanders.

  “Had the governor stayed at his podium, scores of people – and perhaps the Governor himself – would have been killed or injured.

  “Now here is the video of the explosion.”

  Ryan and Mueller had walked over to Annie and were watching the report with her

  The camera operator had shot the video from the top of the riverbank and showed a wide shot of the Governor making his way past the people along the narrow, winding path to the river’s surface.

  Then the explosive device detonated with a deafening roar and a cloud of smoke and debris. Immediately people started running and screaming.

  “Crap,” Mueller said. “Do you see her?”

  Mueller pointed to the television screen. There was wide-spread panic and confusion as people ran in all directions along the river bank, trying to escape the explosion. In the center of the tumult was a woman. She was looking at her phone as she turned briefly toward the camera. She was wearing a sable coat with a matching hat and large, dark glasses, which obscured her facial features. The woman simply slid her phone back into her pocket and walked calmly up to the road.

  “From the beginning of our investigation,” Mueller said, “Burton had been pushing us toward Roshni — but there she is. There is the woman that the two little girls described. There is the woman who murdered Trey Jamieson.”

  Chapter 20

  Ryan had arrived at the television studio by 5:30 PM. His stomach had been doing somersaults all afternoon. His unchecked revelry from last night had started it off, but the prospect of facing Will Cooper on live television this evening only heightened Ryan’s anxiety.

  Within a few minutes, one of the show’s associate producers asked Ryan if he needed anything before the show. Ryan’s mouth was dry and his head throbbed. He asked the producer for a bottle of water and something for his headache. The producer returned with the water and pills for Ryan. Then he ushered Ryan into the makeup department.

  After a few minutes, Will Cooper walked into the makeup room to greet Ryan. Cooper was not as tall as Ryan expected, but he was just as handsome as he seemed on television, and he seemed exceptionally cordial as well.

  “You seem nervous, Sergeant.”

  “I am not used to this part of the job, I guess. As you know, I am substituting for my commander tonight, and I am a little nervous about the broadcast tonight.”

  “There is nothing to worry about. It should be a piece of cake for you.”

  “You have been pretty hard on the NJSP this week.”

  “I have been hard on your bosses. I realize that you are in a difficult position, Sergeant, and you are doing the best that you can. I won’t be coming after you tonight. I promise.”

  “No?”

  “No,” Cooper smiled. “It will be a piece of cake for you tonight.”

  When Cooper noticed that Ryan had drunk most of his water already, he smiled at him.

  “I honestly do not know, Sergeant, how a young man like you can handle all the pressure associated with this case. I suspect that you let off some steam last night?”

  “Is it that obvious?” Ryan asked.

  “Well, yes, it is,” Cooper replied, “but you should not worry. The girls in our makeup department are miracle workers. They will get you ready for the broadcast. I am speaking from experience here,” he lau
ghed. “I was infamous for partying when I was your age, but I always got through the broadcast, even though it usually required a lot of help from these girls.”

  Cooper put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder and leaned close to his ear as if he were imparting a valuable but confidential piece of information.

  “I do not party so much anymore, Sergeant. The makeup girls eventually told me that even their miracles had limitations.”

  They both laughed at this, and Cooper continued. “Listen, you should not worry, Sergeant. We both want to have a good show. I will make sure you get through this. We will get through this together. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Ryan replied.

  “Besides,” Cooper said, “I want to get your story out to the public. It is important that we do everything we can to apprehend this killer. I will see you in the studio in a few minutes. I know that you will be great.” Cooper patted his back and smiled at him as he left the room.

  “Thanks,” Ryan replied. Ryan started to feel at ease.

  *****

  For five minutes, Ryan had been sitting at a long table in the studio and baking under the bright television lights when Will Cooper walked into the room and nodded at Ryan.

  Cooper sat in his chair, which was in the middle of the table and a few feet away from Ryan. Ryan was naturally taller than Cooper, but, in his chair Cooper towered over Ryan.

  Cooper smiled at Ryan and said, “When we go live, just sit silently. They will start with a very tight shot of me, and then I will make a short introduction to the program. After that, I will introduce you and ask you a few questions about the case. Is that okay with you, Sergeant?”

  “Yes, that will be fine with me.”

  Cooper winked at Ryan and smiled again. “It will be really simple – a piece of cake for you.”

  The director called out. “Five seconds, everyone.” He signaled to Will with his fingers – four – three – two – one. Then he pointed to Will to take it live.

  “Good evening. I am Will Cooper.

  “Tonight I hope to bring you up to date on the facts surrounding the murder of Trey Jamieson, who is the son of New Jersey’s governor, Jamie Jamieson.

  “I have covered Governor Jamieson for years for this network. Over the years I have interviewed him, I have come to know him well. I have developed a friendship with him. And I have come to admire him – especially during this past week when he has experienced immense, personal tragedy.

  “I would admire him for simply being a decent man, but, during the past seven days, he has proven himself to be a courageous public servant as well. After his son’s murder, he continued his duties as governor, and he continued his campaign for the presidency. On Monday, he narrowly escaped an assassination plot which seems to be the work of a hostile foreign government, the Islamic Republic of Iran. Still he valued duty over his personal safety. He continued his duties as governor, and he continued his campaign. Just this morning, he narrowly escaped another assassination attempt – the bombing at Washington’s Crossing.

  “Tonight, to bring us up to date on the progress of the original murder case, our special guest is Staff Sergeant William Kieran Ryan, who is the acting lead investigator on Trey Jamieson’s murder case.

  “Good evening, Sergeant Ryan. It is a pleasure to have you on the program.”

  “Thank you, Will. I appreciate the opportunity to be here.”

  “Sergeant Ryan, we have spoken about the tragedy that Governor Jamieson has endured during this past week, but there has been additional tragedy this week. Can you tell us about that?”

  “I am sorry, but I do not understand.”

  “Sergeant Ryan, you were not originally scheduled to be on this program, were you?”

  “Oh, no. Originally my commanding officer, Lieutenant Frank Burton, had been scheduled as your guest, but he experienced a sudden death in his family. His only son was a soldier in the United States Army and died this week in Afghanistan.”

  “Soldiers die every week in Afghanistan, but this was not a normal military death, was it?”

  “No, sir. Your viewers may remember a story about an American military outpost that had been overrun this week by Afghan terrorists. One American soldier had been wounded, captured, tortured, and murdered. That soldier was JR Burton, Lieutenant Frank Burton’s only son.”

  “But at your Crime Scene Unit, you did not simply read about this story, did you?”

  “No, sir. We did not.”

  “Tell us how you and the other detectives in your unit learned about this story.”

  “There was a live Internet feed.”

  “So you watched the actual torture and murder of your commanding officer’s son as it was happening?”

  “Yes, sir. That is how we learned of his murder.”

  “Let me take a moment here to express my sympathy to your commanding officer, Lieutenant Frank Burton, on the horrible and tragic death of his son while serving our country.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “But for the life of me, Sergeant Ryan, I cannot understand how such young men as you are able to deal with these horrible details of carnage and with the unrelenting pressures of this case. What do you do to keep your sanity? Did you and your friends celebrate New Year’s Eve last night?”

  “We did celebrate last night. We may have drunk a little too much, but we did not do anything unusual. We simply did what most people would do.”

  “But you are not like most people, are you, Sergeant Ryan?”

  “I do not follow, Sir.”

  “Most people are not charged with solving Trey Jamieson’s murder case. And most people are not charged with protecting the life of the Governor of New Jersey. I cannot help but note that the NJSP has revealed precious little information about the murder case and that Governor Jamieson seems to be in increasing danger with the passing of each day. Sergeant Ryan, can you tell me why you had opted to celebrate New Year’s Eve rather than to work on the murder case or to protect the Governor?”

  Ryan was at a loss for words and could not answer immediately, but Cooper did not wait for his reply.

  “Sergeant Ryan, I have said before on this program that the NJSP is ill-equipped to continue with this case and to protect the Governor – especially since a hostile, foreign power now seems to be involved. I have said before that the Secret Service needs to take over both the case and the protection of the Governor. I believe that is essential now, more than ever.”

  “I strongly disagree with you, Sir. Governor Jamieson himself has told me that he believes involving the Secret Service in this case will only politicize the case and hinder our ability to solve it.”

  “Do I need to remind you, Sergeant Ryan, that your case is already politicized? Do I need to remind you that the public chose to send their photos of the attack on the bridge to me rather than to the NJSP? Do you know why the public apparently trusts me more than they do the NJSP?”

  Ryan did not reply.

  “The reason, Sergeant Ryan, is that the public believes that the NJSP is already politicizing this case. The NJSP is suppressing evidence.”

  “That is ridiculous,” Ryan replied.

  “It is? Take a look at your monitor, Detective Ryan.”

  A large photo of a man’s face was projected behind Will Cooper.

  “This is the photo of Roshan Roshni,” Cooper continued. “He is an Iranian national, a known terrorist, and an enemy of the United States. Our sources indicate that Mr. Roshni’s fingerprint was found on a cartridge at the scene of Trey Jamieson’s murder. That was seven days ago, Sergeant Ryan.”

  “You know that I cannot confirm that.”

  “You do not need to confirm that, Sergeant. We have the documents that confirm it.”

  Ryan was visibly angry now, and he did not reply to Cooper.

  “I would just like to know one thing, Sergeant Ryan. After having this knowledge for seven days and after witnessing two additional attempts on Governor Jamieson’s life, do you have a go
od reason for concealing this information from the public while the governor’s life is increasingly at risk? Well, do you, Sergeant Ryan?”

  Chapter 21

  Saturday, January 2

  Mike Kieran had been with Burton since Wednesday, and he had helped Burton make arrangements for the funeral. They had scheduled JR’s funeral mass for early this morning. It had to be early, because, after the mass, they would drive for four hours to Arlington National Cemetery for JR’s burial.

  Mike had asked Ryan, Mueller, and Annie to accompany him and Burton in the limousine on the drive to Arlington. Ryan and Mueller did not want to do it, but they agreed, because it was Mike who was asking.

  Ryan, Mueller, and Annie arrived at Saint Philomena’s Church fifteen minutes before the scheduled service and waited for the hearse to arrive. It was a raw morning. They waited under umbrellas in front of the church as miniscule crystals of ice – somewhere between hail and sleet – pelted their umbrellas and bounced on the ground.

  Mourners were already filing into the church. There were scores of them – young men and young women, all in their very early 20s, friends and classmates of JR. Many of the girls sobbed and dabbed at their makeup with tissues. The boys were ashen faced, quiet, and sullen. At so young an age, none of them had yet become familiar with death.

  Father Fred walked out of the church with three altar boys as a limousine with a state police escort pulled up to the curb in front of the church. Governor Jamieson got out of the limousine and walked over to the priest to talk with him.

  Within a few minutes, the hearse and the limousine from the funeral home came slowly into the church lot and stopped along the curb in front of the church.

  Mike stepped out of the backseat, turned, and helped Burton out of the limousine. They stood on the sidewalk and faced the hearse. Mike grasped Burton by the arm and seemed to be supporting him. Annie came over to them, followed by Ryan and Mueller. She stood next to Burton, on the opposite side from Mike, and she squeezed his hand. “I am so sorry, Frank,” she said. She noticed that Burton’s eyes were red and watery. They seemed emptied now of all emotion. He gave her a weak smile and said, “Thank you.”