by Skye Knizley
“Michaels and Montoya,” Levac replied, making a face.
“Which means it’s a case that won’t be solved,” Raven said. “Not if No Nose is involved. Where the hell is Frost?”
Levac shrugged. “He’s not in yet. You’re the ranking officer on duty.”
“Marvelous.”
Raven stood and hurried out of the homicide office and onto the spacious second floor balcony. All divisions except traffic branched off the balcony; traffic took up most of the first floor along with administration and logistics.
Raven leaned over the railing and looked down. No Nose stood in the middle of the room next to his enormous lawyer. A squad of five bodyguards were spread out in front of them. No Nose was tall and thin with graying hair and a mustache. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit, white shirt and maroon tie. Next to him his attorney looked like a slob dressed in a brown tweed suit stained by sweat. His tie hung at half-mast and his trousers weren’t fairing much better and would have been around his knees if not for the suspenders struggling to keep him decent.
A sergeant was doing his best to keep No Nose and his attorney calm, but seemed to be losing the battle to the two more experienced and much louder men. Raven glanced at Levac and hurried down the steps, moving through the handful of patrolman who parted for her like the red sea. She stopped next to the Sergeant and clapped him on the shoulder.
“G’morning George, what’s going on?” she asked.
“Are you Detective Storm?” the attorney asked. “You are unlawfully holding two of my clients. I demand they be released immediately.”
Raven glanced at the attorney. “Bub, the only thing likely to get released are those pants. Your suspenders look ready to blow. Step back, I’ll get to you in a second. George? What’s going on?”
“These two want Caito and DiFronzo released and they’ve…insinuated that police officers will be injured if we don’t cooperate,” George replied.
“Really? Mr. DiFrozo, please clarify, do you know something about the deaths of two homicide detectives sometime this morning and/or are you threatening the lives of others?” Raven asked.
“I keep my ear to the ground, Detective Storm,” No Nose said. “Some of the brothers are upset you are holding my son and his friend Caito. Blood could be shed. If I discover who killed your detectives I will of course hand them over to you.”
“Hand them over to us, that’s cute,” Raven said. “Feed us two low-level punks you don’t trust is what you mean. I feel like I went through this last night. Caito and DiFronzo are being held lawfully without bail. They will not be released until their usefulness has ended. In the meantime if I find out you or any of your goons had something to do with the death of Evans and Reed I will personally bury you. I suggest you, fatso and your pet gorillas take your leave.”
“Are you threatening me or my clients, Detective Storm?” attorney Arrigucci asked.
“Not yet,” Raven replied. “If you don’t get the hell out of the lobby I’m going to arrest you for unlawful assembly and No Nose can share a nice comfy cell with his son.”
“I don’t think that would be wise, Detective,” one of the bodyguards said.
Raven looked up. “Which one are you, Hanz or Franz?”
The bodyguard’s brow furrowed. “Whut?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Raven said. “Are you going to escort your boss out of the lobby or not?”
The guard looked over his shoulder at No Nose who gave a single nod. The guards spread out and held the doors so Arrigucci could exit. No Nose began walking toward the doors, but stopped short to look back at Raven.
“Holding my boy isn’t a wise career decision, Detective. I hate to see you put your life in danger.”
“DiFronzo, you don’t scare me. You didn’t even have the guts to pull the trigger on my father’s murder yourself. You had to pay someone to do it for you. I’m my father’s child and I won’t stop till you’ve got a jail-cell view and a nice stint on death row. Now get the hell out of my building,” Raven replied, her eyes meeting No Nose’s without fear.
No Nose smiled, his perfect teeth gleaming. “As you wish, Detective. As you wish. As you say, you are your father’s daughter.”
Raven watched them leave and felt a sigh of relief go through the handful of officers who’d been facing down No Nose and his hoods.
“Alright guys, the show’s over, let’s get back to work,” Raven said. “We lost two of our own this morning and that piece of trash may have had something to do with it. Let’s get out there and start digging.”
Raven watched the patrolmen go about their business, clapped the sergeant on the back and started back up the stairs to where Levac was standing next to Lieutenant Frost.
“Good morning, Detective,” Frost said. “Well done down there.”
“Hi, Chris. Get stuck in traffic?” Raven replied. “You’ve got coffee on your tie.”
She walked past the two of them and back into the homicide office. She dropped into her chair for a moment and stared at the ceiling. Levac entered and perched on his desk, watching her.
“Something bothering you, Ray?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Raven said, still staring at the ceiling.
“What?”
Raven turned her green eyes on Levac. “I can’t tell you yet. I’m not sure of all the details…or proof. I won’t hang your neck out till I’m sure.”
“Gotcha. Well, Caito is in interrogation if you feel like scaring someone else today.”
“I would love to,” Raven said, standing.
“Forget Caito,” Frost said, approaching with a file in his hands.
“What do you mean ‘forget Caito?’” Raven asked. “He’s a suspect in one homicide and a possible accessory to another.”
“Not likely, Ray,” Frost said, handing Raven the call sheet. “You’ve got another vic, same as Franks. Caito was cooling his heels in the basement last night which makes him an unlikely suspect. And I can’t hold him because he managed to get your back up over your dad.”
Raven closed her eyes and fought back the frustration and rage from her darker half. When she had control she glared at Frost. “That’s complete horse crap, Chris! The guy is as dirty as Rupe’s underwear. At least give me time to investigate. Maybe Caito was working with someone else.”
Frost frowned. “Fine. I can hold him for twenty four hours. If you don’t have something by then, he and DiFronzo will be free to go. Get to the scene. Harvey and a team are already there.”
Raven watched Frost’s retreating back and muttered, “Marvelous.”
MORNING RUSH HOUR HAD COME and gone before Raven’s Shelby arrived in the parking lot of the old Lexington hotel. The ten story building at the corners of Michigan Avenue and 22nd Street had stood the test of time and still looked as good as it had in Capone’s day. The brick and terracotta edifice glowed in the morning sun like a polished monolith calling investigators of the occult and treasure-seekers alike.
The victim had been hung upside down from a third floor window, her nude and skinless form swaying in the wind blowing from the west. An early morning housekeeper had found her and immediately passed out in horror. When she’d come to she’d told the night manager about the corpse and quit on the spot.
Raven and Levac passed under the police tape to where Pocock was busy collecting what evidence he could from the corpse. Raven looked over the large man’s shoulder and wasn’t surprised to see that the victim had been salted, just like the first. The victim was female, in good shape and close to six feet tall. She lay on a white tarp in a pool of thick blood mixed with congealing salt indicating she was much fresher than the previous victim.
“Morning, Harvey,” Levac said, startling the big man. “What’s the scoop?”
Harvey wiped his brow on the back of one gloved hand. “Second verse same as the first. She was killed, skinned and salted down sometime during the night. Based on the witness statement, liver temp and what patrolman Grimes told me I wou
ld guess she was dumped between two in the morning and dawn. I’m leaning closer to dawn, blood is still weeping from her muscles.”
“Any idea on the cause of death?” Raven asked.
Harvey leaned over the body and pointed at a wound near the woman’s heart. “She suffered a lot of trauma, but I would guess it was this. A puncture wound from a single-pointed weapon. It goes through her ribcage, heart, and out her through her left shoulder blade. All of the intervening bones were shattered by the impact.”
“Could it have been a gun of some kind?” Raven asked, peering into the wound. White bone and red flesh glistened within, making her stomach churn.
Harvey shook his head. “I don’t think so. Based on the trauma I would say it was slow moving, like a spear or javelin. Maybe even a sword of some kind. We’ll know more after the doc cuts her.”
Raven put on a pair of gloves and probed several other wounds in the woman’s torso. Viscous blood oozed out onto her gloves. She frowned at the smell and glanced at Pocock. “What else can you tell me? Anything about these wounds?”
“Impressions and surgical incisions in her pectoral muscles indicate she had breast implants,” Pocock said, pointing at various points on the woman’s body. “She has two broken fingers on her right hand that suggest she punched someone pretty hard before she was killed and her left leg is broken in two places. If I had to guess, based on the damage, I would say she splinted it herself or someone did it for her some hours before her death. Her thigh muscles are full of bone chips.”
Levac knelt next to the woman. “So you’re saying she went down fighting and may have had some time before her death where she was moving freely.”
Pocock rocked back on his heels. “I didn’t say that, but it would be plausible.”
“Has anyone searched the room where the victim was found?”
“Not yet,” Pocock said. “Frost said you two would want a look around first.”
“Thanks, Harvey,” Raven said. “Let us know if you come up with anything else.”
She turned and walked toward the hotel entrance, Levac close on her heels. They passed through the heavy copper and glass revolving door and into the white and gold tiled lobby. The whole building had been restored in 1989 and looked almost as it had when Capone and a handful of his crew lived on the top three floors. The lobby was complete with overstuffed velvet chairs, 1920s phones and a wide reception desk topped with polished mahogany.
Raven crossed the hall, enjoying the echo of her boots from the vaulted ceiling, and stopped at the desk. A middle aged man with thinning hair and spectacles perched on a narrow nose stood up from his desk and approached, his suit pants swishing as he walked.
“Good morning, miss. How can I assist you?” he asked.
Raven placed her badge on the desk. “I’m Detective Storm and this is Detective Levac. We’re here to investigate the incident that happened during the night.”
The man smoothed what little hair he had. “You mean the…um…”
“Yes, sir, that’s what we mean,” Levac said. “Do you know if the victim was a guest here? Was the room registered to anyone?”
“No, sir, the room was empty,” the clerk replied. “I’m not sure how anyone got in, we use a very secure key-card system for every room except the Capone penthouse.”
“What about surveillance cameras?” Raven asked.
“We have several cameras, mainly here in the lobby and in the elevator,” the clerk said.
“None in the stairwells?” Raven pressed.
The clerk shook his head. “The stairs are so rarely used ownership determined that cameras weren’t cost effective.”
Raven rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Could you pull the elevator and lobby tapes just in case and get us the key to the room in question?”
The clerk placed two DVDs and a keycard labeled ‘308’ on the counter. “Way ahead of you, Detectives. Good luck. I hope you find this psychopath, this sort of thing is bad for tourism.”
Raven collected the items and turned toward the elevators. Behind her she heard Levac ask, “Just one more question, sir, I’m guessing you’re the night manager, did you see or hear anything strange during the night?”
“No, sir,” the clerk replied. “It was an oddly quiet night. I wish I had seen something, maybe the poor woman would still be alive.”
“Thank you, you’ve been most helpful,” Levac said. “I’ll just take one of your cards for my file.”
Raven shook her head and pressed the button, listening as Levac hurried to catch up. He joined her at the elevator and she grinned at him.
“What?” he asked.
“You. You just can’t help yourself,” Raven replied.
The elevator dinged and she stepped inside.
“What are you talking about?” Levac asked, his hands spread.
Raven pushed the three button. The doors started to close on Levac’s puzzled look, but Raven caught it with one hand and said, “Just one more thing…”
Levac laughed and joined Raven in the elevator. The two continued to giggle as they headed upwards. Sometimes a silly laugh was the only way to deal with the cases they worked day in, day out.
THE ELEVATOR OPENED ONTO A wide hallway decorated with gold and silver patterned wallpaper, a thick fringed rug and paintings from the city at the turn of the last century when the hotel was first opened. Raven followed Levac down the passage, the hair on the back of her neck itching. She focused on her vampire senses, but could detect nothing over the smell of blood emanating from room 308. The pair stopped at the door and Raven stooped to examine the locking mechanism. She could see the faintest of circular marks on the wall near the lock; someone had used a magnetic card key hooked to a small computer to open the door. That took time, even on a simple lock. How had no one noticed?
Levac ran his keycard through and pushed the door open on a scene of carnage. The bed was covered in blood as was a pile of towels lying beside it. Crimson spatter covered the white and gold wallpaper, the dark wood trim around the windows and the antique night table. A piece of thick rope was still wrapped around the bedpost and soaked in so much blood it had shrunk, tightening the knot to the point of cracking the wood.
“I guess this time our vic was skinned here,” Levac said.
Raven covered her nose with her hand to keep out the worst of the blood smell and nodded.
The pair entered and made a search of the room. Whoever had skinned the victim had cleaned up after themselves. The bathroom, wash basin, even the beige carpet and bathroom floor had been cleaned. Not a single drop of blood or grain of salt had gotten anywhere but on the bed.
“Wait a second,” Raven said. “They would have had to have had some way to clean up after themselves, right?”
Levac nodded. “That makes sense. So?”
“So it’s unlikely they brought a vacuum with them and I would be willing to bet at least some salt went on the floor,” Raven said. “No one is that perfect. Maybe that vacuum is still here.”
She walked back into the hall to where she had seen one of the maids’ closets. Sure enough the lock had been broken and the door opened with a gentle push. A vacuum sat just inside the door. Raven knelt and unzipped the bag to find it full of bloody salt.
Levac entered and squatted next to her. “I bet Ming and Pocock will have a field day with that much trace evidence.”
“Tag it and let’s check out the rest of the room.”
Levac pulled a label from his pocket and Raven left to return to the room. She glanced around and let her senses do their thing. She could detect two distinct scents, both male by the smell of their sweat. Unless there was something in the vacuum, that smell was all they’d left behind when they’d hung the victim out the window.
Raven moved through the room, her senses stretched to their limit. She could see the heat from the walls and the cool blue of the air conditioner. She paused and watched the air pouring out of the vent. It wasn’t coming out in an even stre
am, but rather a waft of vapor. A hotel like the Lexington had the latest cooling system.
She pulled a knife from her boot and used it to pry the vent from the system. A pile of bloody clothes fell into her arms along with a pair of scalpels and another of the skinning tools they’d found with the Jolly Grey Giant down in the warehouse district. Raven placed them on the floor and made a quick search of the clothing. It consisted of two coveralls like painters would wear, boots and gloves. Both were large, one about the size of Caito, the other larger. Everything smelled heavily of both masculine sweat and earth, like the clothing had been worn in the woods. Raven leaned close and sniffed at the clothing. She could smell cigar smoke from the inside. Whomever had worn the larger of the two jumpsuits had smoked cigars and the smell had stuck with him.
“Diarmait,” she said.
“What?” Levac asked moving up beside her.
“Diarmait,” Raven replied. “Who else have we spoken to who smelled like a humidor? I’d bet on him being involved in all of this somehow.”
“What makes you think that?” Levac asked.
“Vampire’s intuition and he’s the one who fingered DiFronzo in the first place,” Raven replied. “Come on, let’s get Judge Hastey on the phone and see if we can get a warrant to arrest Diarmait.”
“Pocock and his boys are on the way and this place stinks. Lead on.”
Raven tossed her gloves on top of the two jumpsuits and the two detectives left, letting the door lock behind them.
On their way through the lobby they ran into Pocock who was leading his team toward the elevators. Somehow, in his white coverall with his name on the breast he looked like the Goodyear blimp and Raven almost burst out laughing. Somewhere in her head she could hear Aspen whispering This is the guy that replaced me?
Raven shushed the imagined voice and handed Pocock the key card.
“There is also a vacuum down the hall that needs a full search for trace. Blood, hair, anything that might identify the victim, anyone she’s come into contact with or where she might have been when she was kidnapped.