by Judith Lucci
"It's okay. Anyway, it should be. The Feds sent in some experts and they’re doing okay."
"The Federal Government. Oh, great. That makes me feel so much better. Goin' home?" It was easy to detect the sarcasm in Martin's voice. "I cannot believe we gotta put up with all ‘dem sons of beeches this weekend. There're all coming to Naw'lins' to fix America? Figure that. Can't they do that in Washington, D.C. so we don't have to pay for them to come here and mess up stuff? I just doan unnerstand it."
Alex had never had a political discussion with Martin and decided that she never would. "No. I need to go to the Hotel Burgundy. To see an old friend. Her husband was killed in the Quarter today. Very sad. I’m dreading the visit."
Martin stared at her. "Oh, that political guy? Yeah. I heard ‘bout him. Bad, bad, bad. Whoever's killin' all these peoples is bad. Commander Jack's gotta get him. Gettin' way out of hand." Martin shook his head and repeated, 'bad, bad, bad' over and over again. He continued, "You know it's the Comte, right? He usually just kills a few and leaves for a while."
"Huh, I know nothing about a Comte. You mean a Comte like a French nobleman?" Alex was surprised.
Martin nodded. "Yeah, the Comte St. Germaine. You know."
Alex gave him a blank stare with her mind really not on the subject, "Who, huh?" She was barely listened as she thought about her ordeal ahead of her.
Martin gaped at her and said, "I doan believe ‘dis. Do you means you don't know ‘bout him?"
Alex shook her head. "No, I don't, but I'm sure Commander Françoise is doing his best to get him. I'd imagine they have a whole bunch of people working on it. They'll get him. Soon, I hope."
He shook his head. "Nah, not so sure. Comte’s been killin’ for years. Hundreds of people are dead 'cuz of him," Martin said, his voice positive, adamant.
Alex was bewildered. She was lost in the conversation. "Martin, what are you talking about? I didn't even know they had a suspect."
"Comte's been a suspect for years. I'll tell you about him later," Martin promised as he pulled up to the Hotel Burgundy. "Good luck in there. Lots of cops around."
"Thanks. I'll need some luck and wisdom. This will be hard. Put this on my tab?" Alex gave Martin a thin smile. "Pick me up in an hour and take me back to CCMC, puh-leeze,” she said as she flashed him a brilliant smile.
"Always, Mz. Alex. We gotta deal. Be careful now, ya hear," Martin admonished as he pulled out into traffic without looking.
Alex shook her head and refocused as she entered the brass-plated hotel doors. Her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the hotel foyer as she was approached by a clean cut, handsome man in a dark suit who asked for her credentials. Alex pegged him for FBI. She was correct. He identified himself as a FBI Special Agent.
"I'm Alexandra Destephano and I’m here to see Mrs. Blankenship. I believe she is expecting me," Alex said, her voice hushed.
The man nodded and said, "Yes, she is. Follow me."
The agent accompanied Alex to the elevator and pushed the button for her.
On the third floor, another good-looking man greeted her at the elevator and said, "Ms. Destephano, Mrs. Blankenship is in her room. I'll get her. She’s been waiting for you," he said as he ushered Alex to her seat.
Alex murmured thanks and chose a seat on a sofa in the suite's living room. She chided herself for thinking how good looking both of the FBI guys were. Probably married, she thought. Everyone was these days, except a little voice reminded her of Robert. Alex forced herself to change the subject. She looked around the suite. The room was well appointed and Alex wished she were there for a drink rather than to visit the widow of the most promising young man in Congress. This wasn't going to be easy. She wished her grandmother were already here.
Beth Blankenship’s face was tear-stained, but composed as she emerged from her bedroom and hugged Alex tightly. She wore jeans, short boots, and a cashmere sweater. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. "Oh, Alex, thank you so much for coming. It’s wonderful to see you. Your grandmother called and told me you’d be here this afternoon. I so appreciate it. I am so lonely."
As Beth sat down next to her, Alex took her hand and their eyes meet. Beth's eyes were empty, hollow, and tortured. "Beth, what can I do for you?" she asked. "Is there anyone I can call or anything I can get you?"
Beth's composure left her and she dissolved into sobs, her petite body racked by the intensity of her grief.
Alex hugged her as she gulped, "What am I to do without Ben? He was my life, my love, my best friend. What am I to tell the children? Alex, please help me make sense of this!” She paused as Alex continued to rub her back. “What I need for you to do, Alex, is help me keep it together here in New Orleans until I can get home. I must keep my composure and not be a blubbering idiot like I am now."
Beth's weeping continued and Alex held her tightly. There was nothing she could say, nothing at all. There were no words. Only time would lessen this pain. And then, only partially. This woman's life, the lives of her children, and most likely the history of the United States had been altered today because of the wickedness, cruelty, and immorality of one man. She shook her head as anger surged through her body.
"I'll help you Beth, I'll help you all I can," Alex promised as she held the thin, shaking shoulders of the new widow. Alex prayed for strength for Beth for the months ahead. As Beth’s tears subsided, the two women sat and talked quietly.
Chapter 15
Commander Jack Françoise dawdled in his office on Royal Street, doing the best he could to piss away time. He had a ton of stuff to do but was blocked on all sides. He'd phoned Maddy Jeanfreau three times and had been told politely each time that she was still in autopsy and would return his call. He’d driven his homicide detectives to the brink of murdering him and the crime lab wasn't taking his calls because he had called and barked up their ass too many times in one day.
In fact, nobody wanted to talk to him, not even Monique. She had begged him to leave her alone to nap after their second conversation, which he had grudgingly agreed to do. To top it all off, Alex hadn't answered his phone call or his texts and he really needed her and Robert at the late afternoon security meeting. Robert had agreed to track her down. What the hell, he asked himself. What's a police commander to do when no one will talk to him? How the hell could he be effective, get stuff done, catch the bad guys? This was crap.
In truth, Jack was on his pity pot. He didn't want to go to the security briefing at the Mayor's Office because he couldn't stand the Mayor and didn't want to put up with his droning and incompetence, particularly in front of the Secret Service and the Feds. And, he didn't want anyone else telling him what to do in his city, particularly on his beat. Finally, the anticipated knock at the door and Jack grunted an impatient, "Come in."
John Houser from the State Police Criminal Division and Jason Aldridge motioned for Jack to join them. Houser smiled broadly at Jack and quipped, "Time to go, Commander. There's no way you can get out of this. The President and all of his men are coming to your Precinct and we're gonna have to make nice with them for the next three days, at least and hope nothing else happens."
Jack grunted and gave Houser a dirty look.
Jason grinned at his boss and said, "Sorry, Commander, I couldn't get you out of this meeting. There was just no way. If you like, I'll listen and take notes if you'll just behave."
Jack gave Jason a dirty look as well as he proceeded out of the door and growled. "Make sure you do. I'll do my best to control myself but you know I hate others telling me what to do," he grumbled to whoever would listen.
John Houser laughed and clapped him on the back. "Jack, it'll be okay. We're meeting Ted there. Specifically, you'll be in good shape because Ted Scott, your boss, has a syringe with a four inch needle with your name on it that’s filled with a powerful horse sedative. He fully plans to use it if you misbehave.”
Jack grinned, but looked a little crazy.
Jason added, "That's the truth Commissioner
, and the worst part is that the horse shot makes you drool."
Both men burst into laughter and continued their banter on the short walk to City Hall as Jack stared stonily ahead, dreading a meeting room full of Feds.
Perdido Street was lined with the requisite mid-sized coupes, SUVs, and minivans, which Jack knew were specially equipped government vehicles. He also noted SWAT vans parked in the circle. Traffic was jammed around City Hall, the 1950s structure on Perdido and the area buzzed with media and pedestrian traffic. Security was tight and the entrance to City Hall was virtually obstructed.
Just recently, city officials had announced their plans to rehab the Hotel Dieu or the Old Charity Hospital and use it for City Hall and the new Courts Building. The old hospital, a national landmark, had over a million square feet and had sustained flooding in the basement area during Hurricane Katrina. Jack looked over at the old building, the former "free" hospital that had cared for millions of people over the years. It'd be good to see the place alive again, even if it was going to cost millions of dollars. The Old Charity Hospital had done more for Orleans Parish than perhaps anything or anyone else. Jack spied a NOPD officer who waved them through the police barricades surrounding the building.
Police Commissioner Ted Scott met the trio inside the double doors. The place was on a virtual lock-down. He gave John Houser a firm handshake and said, "Hey John, heard you were on the list. Glad to have you, since there is some speculation our French Quarter murders and the threat over at CCMC, are possibly related." He nodded to Jason and then turned to Jack and asked, "You ready for this, Commander?" What the Commissioner was really asking was whether Jack was going to behave himself or revert to his obstinate, stubborn behavior.
Jack grunted and said, "Yeah, heard about the horse shot shit so I guess I'll try to keep it down. Not like I have a choice, right?"
"Right. Are the hospital people coming?"
"I know Dr. Bonnet will be here. I haven't heard back from Ms. Destephano. Also Dr. Yvette Charmaine, the CDC doctor. Both of them are incommunicado at the present, or at least they won't answer my calls," Jack joked.
Ted Scott nodded and grinned, "I try not to answer your calls either, Jack. It generally means you want me to do something. On another note, Alexandra Destephano's grandfather asked her to spend some time with Beth Blankenship, Congressman Blankenship's widow. Apparently, they are family friends. I've spoken with Congressman Lee twice this afternoon. He’s devastated by the murder. Congressman Blankenship was his protégé and I think he wants us to be sure nothing happens to Beth or Alexandra," Commissioner Scott offered.
Oh shit, Jack thought. In a low, sardonic voice he said, "Great, now we'll have Mayor Devries, Congressman Adam Patrick Lee, the FBI, and the Secret Service barking up our asses. It just couldn't get any better, could it?" Actually, it was getting interesting, Jack thought to himself.
John laughed and said, "Congressman Lee's pretty good. He's one of the few law and order politicians left. I've great respect for him. I'll take his flack and watch his back. No problem."
Ted and Jason nodded.
Jack added, "Yeah, he's one of the best, old school, but you can bet your next kid that he won't leave us alone until we find who killed his friend. That's a given."
"Well, hell, we'll just have to do it, we're plan to find the SOB anyway," Ted said as he waved at FBI Special Agent in Charge Jeff Bodine and introduced Jeff to Jason.
Jeff clapped Jack on the back and said, "Well, I'll be a blue monkey's uncle. Françoise, how in the hell'd they get you here? Never saw you at a meeting. In fact, I never see you anywhere except on the news when you’re pissing off the press."
Jack cut his eyes over toward Ted and said in a grumpy voice, "Figure it out. Ya got one guess." Jack liked FBI New Orleans SAC Jeff Bodine. He and Jeff often worked cases together and Jack had been delighted when Jeff had been named Special Agent in Charge in New Orleans. Jeff was tall, slim, had a receding hairline, and was as thorough as a cop could be. All in all, he was great for a Fed.
Jeff grinned and looked at Ted. "Aw, Ted, did you make him? Did you make the big guy show up for this meeting?"
"I did, and I am sure I'll be paying for it forever. I pulled rank, and now I'm gonna have to watch it. God knows what he'll do to me to get back," Ted joked as surveyed the room. "Jeff, do you know the guys up in front?"
Jeff looked ahead. "Yeah, the guy in the very front is the federal honcho in charge. He’s actually the advance guy for the PPD."
"Huh, what the hell is PPD? I thought I got that every year to check for tuberculosis. You know I hate letters that are all strung together, Bodine," Jack cursed under his breath.
"For God sakes, Jack. It's the Presidential Protective Division. He’s Secret Service Agent Travis Stoner. He’s doubling as the PPD and agent in charge. Stoner is the best, knows his stuff. I've been working with him off and on for a while. The others up there are his team. They're good."
"Stoner. That's his name, Stoner? The dude's name is Stoner. What the hell? I'd change my name." Jack couldn't stifle his snicker.
Bodine laughed. "Yeah, and he takes ribbing pretty good. Used to it. Laughs about it himself. Stoner is a hell of a name for a Secret Service Agent, but don't underestimate him, Jack. He's got his stuff more than together."
Jack and the others nodded as Jeff continued. "Let me introduce you."
Jack grimaced as the Mayor and the Governor's aide entered the conference room. He rolled his eyes, but was happy to see Robert, Alex, and Yvette behind him. Maybe this meeting wouldn't be so bad after all. At least there was somebody here he actually liked.
Travis Stoner greeted FBI SAC Jeff Bodine warmly.
Jack liked Stoner at first pass. His eyes were direct and his handshake was firm. He also had a take-charge attitude that Jack admired.
Stoner studied Jack closely and said, "Commander Françoise, you and I are going to be pretty tight before this is over. My biggest concern in all of this is your beat ... the hospital area and the French Quarter. The Quarter seems the hardest to control. Can you hang back and talk with me and my men after this?"
"Yeah, glad to." Jack seemed delighted to be included. He felt his chest puff. Maybe the Feds weren't so bad after all. He grudgingly admired Stoner. He was correct. The French Quarter was tough to protect. There were hundreds of places to hide or escape. Jack knew the dark and sleazy underbelly of the Quarter better than any cop in New Orleans. Most NOPD officers only knew a few of them but Jack had spent most of his life hanging out there, living in the Quarter, or patrolling it as part of the NOPD.
"Okay. Let's get started, gentlemen and ladies," Stoner suggested, signaling his men to round up folks to the conference table.
The loud buzz in the room quickly became silent as the law enforcement officers seated themselves and Travis Stoner moved behind the podium. He was a commanding presence as he stood at the podium of the Mayor's large, well-appointed conference room. His silver-grey hair gave him a distinguished look and his steely-grey eyes were clear and insightful.
Alex figured he didn't miss much. She was impressed by his appearance. She judged him to be in his mid-forties.
Stoner looked around the room. All eyes were trained on him as he began, "As most of you may know, any event of national or international perspective that is thought to be a significant threat against the United States as a potential target for terrorism is handled by the Secret Service. Federal law mandates that the United States Secret Service be in charge of event security. The Federal Bureau of Investigation is placed in charge of intelligence, counter terrorism, hostage rescue, and the investigation of incidents of terrorism or other major criminal activities. In addition, the Federal Emergency Management Agency is in charge of recovery management in the aftermath of terrorist or other major criminal incidents, natural disasters or other catastrophic events. Federal law also requires that all Federal and local agencies work together to provide full cooperation and support to ensure the safety and secur
ity of those participating in or otherwise attending the event. Also, the community where the event takes place, in this case Orleans Parish, must be protected as well for a specific time frame. In other words, the Feds are in charge and we all work together. Are there any questions?
There were none.
"It is important to note several differences in this briefing. First of all, generally, we only allow law enforcement to be present, but since we are considering the possibility of a dual threat, I have invited hospital executive personnel to attend. We also have representatives from the city and the Governor's office. Are there any questions?"
Stoner surveyed the room and noted the rapt attention on all participant faces. Since there were no questions, only silence, Stoner continued, "Homeland Security has assessed the possibility of two threats. I am going to ask Dr. Yvette Charmaine of the CDC to update us on the viral threat. Dr. Charmaine, would you come forward?”
Alex leaned back in her chair to allow Yvette room to weave her way to the podium. She looked subdued, but official in her white CDC lab coat.
Dr. Charmaine’s voice was clear as she began, "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. The virus we examined here in New Orleans is very real and quite threatening. We have four dead and 11 people being treated in the CCMC ED. The virus remains unknown but we have ruled out Ebola."
The Governor's aide quickly spoke out, “You've ruled out Ebola? This morning I thought you said it looked like Ebola. I'm uncertain of what you mean. Is it bad because it's not Ebola?"
Yvette shook her head. "No, sir. It's not necessarily bad. As we discussed this morning, the virus does appear hemorrhagic based on its appearance but it also has a respiratory component that is generally not a part of the Ebola complex. The respiratory failure seems to be what caused the deaths."
Jeff Bodine stood and said, "Dr. Charmaine, I'm Jeff Bodine, FBI SAC, and I am in charge of counter terrorism and ground operations here in New Orleans for the next few days. Do you consider this biological threat to be a weapon of mass destruction?"