Fatal Instinct

by Robert W. Walker

  She explained how she had gotten the first strand, her belief that it was lifted from the body a good seven minutes before Archer arrived on scene.

  He looked over the two photos for some time, his features not giving anything away, but his eyes showing a dubious and steady blink, the big hands folding about the photos. “You sure that you labeled it correctly?”

  “Yes! Dammit, I knew you'd say that.”

  “Even if / believe you, Jess, it's slim evidence at best. Do you have anything else on the man?”

  She couldn't hide the look of disappointment on her face.

  “D.A. wouldn't touch this. It'd be your word against Archer's, and Archer could make a case for your having a longstanding poisoned relationship that—”

  “Forget it,” she said abruptly.

  “Wait a minute, Jess.”

  “Just forget it, Alan.”

  The waiter arrived to clear their dishes, and they fell silent.

  After he left, Alan began, “Jess, it's not that I don't believe that you believe—”

  “I won't bore you with any more of my doubts, Alan.”

  “Come on, Jess. That's not fair.”

  “I wouldn't want to bring you down from that high you've been riding since Helfer was cuffed.”

  He tossed down his napkin and leaned in across the table. “That's bull, Jessica. I'm not railroading this creep. He's as guilty as guilty gets and—”

  “And so is someone else, someone who drove him, controlled Helfer, gave him a new name, a new identity, and gave him orders.”

  “There's not a shred of forensics evidence to support you, nothing other than Leon Helfer's word, which is less than nothing, Jess.”

  “All true, thanks in large part to Archer, who, by the way, still has not been so much as reprimanded for his part in slowing this investigation.”

  “Internal Affairs is looking into your allegations.”

  “Allegations?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what does Internal Affairs know about hiding evidence in a test tube or beneath a microscope?”

  “Christ, it's not as if Archer conspired with the killer. If he let some things go, if he became a little careless, it was for mundane, perhaps petty reasons.”

  “Well, I'm not so sure.”

  She got up to leave, but he stood also and grabbed her by the wrist. “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “I'm still unconvinced he had nothing to do with Dr. Darius' fall prior to his going into the hospital, if not his so-called suicide.”

  “Christ, you really dislike this guy, don't you?”

  “Don't you see? Archer did all he could to slow the progress of the investigation until he was firmly in place as Darius' logical successor. And I don't understand why you and the others choose to look the other way.”

  She hurled away, and he threw money on the table and rushed after her. Neither of them had noticed the darkly clad, heavily made-up man at the booth beside them who now stood and quietly left in their wake.

  Twenty-Five

  I want Emmons' body shipped to Quantico.” Jessica stood over Simon Archer's desk, her tone lean and spiced with a tinge of officiousness. “I'd like your cooperation.”

  “What can you possibly expect will come of carting the poor woman's body to and from Virginia, Dr. Coran?”

  “Well, I won't know that until—”

  “Then you can speak with the family members. I'll not be a party to unnecessary pain and injury to the bereaved.”

  “I'll deal with her family.”

  She started away from his office when he got to his feet and said, “Do you really think Quantico can do any better than we've managed here?”

  “We have the most sophisticated equipment on earth, Doctor, some of which you've only read about, the experimental laser photography, for instance, and our electron microscopy is of the most recent vintage. If any minute differences... ahh... Doctor, at this point, I'm asking your cooperation, but if you try to stand in my way, I'll steamroll this right over your head.”

  “You have no jurisdiction here. It ended with that retch's arrest.”

  “Oh, but I do. So long as the FBI holds open the case, and since the NYPD asked us in... Well, just check with the commissioner and the mayor, if you like.”

  Archer stared a hole in her but said nothing. She smiled, saying, “Being at the top's a bitch, Simon, especially when the top isn't the top.”

  “Just what is it you think you will find?” he persisted.

  “Look, Dr. Archer, we're not in this to prove your team in error, or—”

  “What, then?”

  Others about the lab heard the raised voices and began to stare.

  “We're interested in looking more deeply into the physical evidence, and the best way to do that is to transport, whole, one of the victims, perhaps two.”

  “Two? But the others are all in the ground.”

  “That didn't stop us during the Chicago Vampire manhunt.” They had unearthed two bodies for exhumation then, and she knew that Archer was aware of the case history.

  “Look,” she said solicitously, “I've got a military plane on standby and we'll take the body to Quantico with or without your consent.”

  He put up a palm to her. “No, no, you know you have my full support, Dr. Coran. It's just... well, I'd hoped we had put this horror behind us.”

  “I can certainly understand that.”

  “With Helfer in custody—”

  “That's not enough. We have to be absolutely certain, and I'm afraid the forensics evidence provided to prove him guilty beyond a reasonable doubt—”

  Archer's shoulders hunched with his raised arms as he protested, “I oversaw that evidence myself, and it is enough to bury Helfer several times over. What can you possibly mean, reasonable doubt?”

  “Reasonable doubt that he acted alone.”

  “But all the evidence points to that single fact.”

  “I know... I know, and it's all so pat.”

  He was again staring at her before he caught himself. He cast his dark gaze elsewhere, but not before she registered the pent-up rage seething below, held in check. The unflappable Dr. Archer had been flapped.

  “Well,” he muttered, “it sounds as if you need nothing from me.”

  “No, I don't. I'll take the heat from the family and any other interested parties.”

  “I guess you've been made aware that they've ordered some sort of internal investigation of the department.”

  “No, really? I had no idea,” she lied. “Routine, they say.”

  “Oh, yes, I suppose so when such a position is held for so many years by someone such as Dr. Darius.”

  “Yes, well, they do seem to be concentrating on efficiency levels, that sort of thing. Who knows, perhaps we'll get some additional influx of funds. God knows we need it.”

  “I'll keep my fingers crossed for you.”

  She turned on her heels and disappeared down the hall, tapping out a light Morse code with her heels and cane as she did so. Dr. Archer flicked a switch on his intercom and spoke to Laurie Marks, telling her to prepare the Emmons body for transportation.

  He clicked off the intercom and said to the empty room, “Fine, Dr. Coran, you will have your cadaver, but you will never get the eyes back.”

  Later that day, Jessica stopped by Rychman's incident room, where everything had been dismantled. Desks and secretaries were being rerouted, but Alan was still working out of the central office here, and he was concentrating deeply on what Dr. Simon Archer was telling him.

  Jessica could only guess at what Archer was saying. Both men stood up when she entered.

  “Well, I'm on my way, gentlemen, and not likely to return soon.”

  “You'll be missed,” Rychman said, their eyes meeting.

  Archer, who had seen them make up in the parking lot outside the restaurant and who had followed them to where she was staying, knew that Rychman had spent the night with her.


  “Got to catch up with Emmons' body,” she told them.

  “Can't give up on that two-man theory, can you?” asked Rychman. “Suit yourself, but I think you're wasting your time, Jess... ahh. Dr. Coran.”

  “If we could just find some corroborating evidence like a second set of hairs—other than yours, Dr. Archer!” she said. “Of course, everyone expects to find some of the coroner's hair on the body.” She watched him for a reaction but there was none.

  “Par for the course,” said Archer. “Well, look, I've got to get down to interrogation. Seems Leon's wanting to talk some more,” said Rychman.

  “Is he still claiming his innocence?” asked Archer.

  “He never claimed to be innocent,” countered Rychman. “But he does claim that he was used by the Claw.”

  “But Ames says—”

  “I know what Ames says, and I agree. It's Dr. Coran here who disputes Ames' findings, not me. But I listen to Leon because the more he talks, well, the more we get on him. He's described most of the murder scenes down to the dots on the i's.”

  “Lot of pent-up rage, anger toward his mother, I've heard,” said Archer.

  “You've heard right, and it got directed at women in general.”

  “I'll offer you a final word of advice, Captain,” Archer said.

  “Yes?”

  “With Helfer's type you want to threaten and intimidate every chance you get. Wear the bastard down; don't let up; intimate that you have his DNA, his hair, his fingerprints, his teeth marks on the body. In time, he'll crack like a dried eggshell.”

  Rychman's smile was wide. “Say, Dr. Archer, you sure you won't come along, take a shot at Leon? Sounds like you'd make a great interrogator.”

  “I'll leave it to the professionals. Besides, I have to get back to my lab. A lot of people want a lot of information from me right now, so as much as I'd like to...”

  “Understood,” replied Rychman, walking him to the door and a little way down the hall.

  “I hope you're not still buying into Dr. Coran's notion that Leon Helfer did not act alone. Not one shred of forensics evidence we have supports her claim, you know.”

  “No, Dr. Archer, you needn't worry on that score, and with her going back to Quantico, so goes her theories. Can't prosecute on a theory.”

  “No, no, you can't, and we should do nothing to jeopardize the case against Helfer. The man deserves the full extent of the law. There's no way he can escape justice now.”

  “Depends.”

  Archer looked closely at Rychman's eyes. “What do you mean, depends?”

  “You know how the game is played, Doc. Defense'll try for an NGI—”

  “But Ames says he's not insane in the legal sense.”

  “Defense shrinks will say he is and it'll be bargained down to a manslaughter with intent, diminished capacity, all that crap. Our boy'll spend the rest of his natural life in an asylum 'longside guys like Jeffrey Dahmer, John Wayne Gacy and Matisak. Long as we've got no death penalty in New York...”

  “No justice anymore, is there, Captain.”

  “You got that right, Doc.” Rychman took Archer's hand and shook it, saying, “You did a hell of a job amassing information against this creep, Archer. Don't worry, news like that travels through the ranks fast, and when the D.A. puts Leon away, one way or another, IAD'11 get word to back off.”

  “Being a division chief really puts the spotlight on you,” replied Archer. “Have to say, I'm tired of those guys snooping around my records and my lab.”

  “You'll learn that being in charge means priority one is to cover your ass and keep fault away from your sector. Divert attention to someone else, if you must.”

  “I may have to come to you for advice from time to time,” he said.

  “Sorry, but at the moment, if I stepped in, said anything on your behalf like you ask, it'd just backfire on both of us. Let the snoops snoop, so long as you've got nothing to hide. So far, what've they turned up? A few clerical errors? A broken chain or two. Come on, when Darius ran the department, errors were made, right?”

  “Guess you're right. I'll stop worrying.”

  “You really ought to at least come down and watch Helfer sweat. You can stay behind the mirror. He's really coming un-glued now, waiving off his attorney's advice to shut up, breaking out into cold sweats. Part of the fun of the chase, once it's over, is to toy with your prey.”

  “Maybe... I'll drop by, then, if I can. Later,” said Archer.

  Jessica joined Alan in the hallway where he stood watching Archer disappear. “What was that all about?”

  “Seems he wants my advice about how to deal with IAD. Guess they're making him antsy.”

  “Where there's paranoia there's fire?”

  “IAD spooks everybody, Jess.”

  “I doubt that they could spook you.”

  “I'm keeping an eye on Archer, Jess. Right now, that's all I can do.”

  She bit her lower lip and nodded. “Fair enough. Well, I've got to go... got a plane to catch.”

  “And you won't reconsider the foolishness about taking Emmons with you?”

  She shook her head. “No, it's a must-do.”

  “You know that if Archer were guilty of any... entanglement with Helfer... if he were a schizoid killer, your taking that body out of here... well, it's got to be viewed as a direct threat to him. Everybody knows your reputation in the lab is—”

  “Why, Alan, I almost believe you have some suspicions regarding the unimpeachable Dr. Archer!”

  “I guess I may.”

  “To be so worried about a hypothetical danger?”

  “I worry for you, that's all.”

  “Don't. I'm a big girl, and I'll be safe in Quantico.”

  She punched him in his meaty arm. “Now, walk me to the elevator and say goodbye for now.”

  He did so and kissed her at the elevator as personnel in the building moved by them, some staring. “I will be seeing you sooner than you think. I am going to visit, and—”

  The doors had opened and she had stepped through but she held it open for him to finish.

  “Yes?”

  “I think I love you, Jess.”

  She smiled in reply, her eyes misting up. “I'll miss you.” She wasn't prepared to tell him that she loved him. She wasn't sure she could love anyone again. Certainly it would take more time, a change of setting, more privacy with Rychman, if it were ever to happen.

  “Bye, Rychman.”

  As the doors closed between them he shouted, “Going to miss you around here, FBI lady.”

  “Me, too, Alan,” she said back, unsure if he had heard.

  Dr. Simon Archer wondered if his having gone to Captain Alan Rychman ostensibly for advice, but actually to “read” the man's reactions to him after whatever revelations Coran had made the night before, had been wise. He was satisfied that Rychman, while interested in the woman sexually, was not about to make a fool of himself otherwise.

  Archer had no intention of seeing Leon Helfer in the presence of others. He had visited Leon's cell when he was in lockup the first night to throw a scare into the little creep. Still, Rychman's suggestion that he come down to interrogation and see how it was going was a provocative one. While it could be a trap that Rychman and Coran had set for him, somehow manipulating Leon and him into the same room to see what the reaction would be, he didn't think so.

  Coran had left the building, of this he was quite certain. So had Emmons' body. Both were bound for Quantico, and perhaps now everything in New York might return to a semblance of normalcy. With Leon's coffin being nailed shut by Archer's own forensics team, with precious little added by the FBI woman, it would be Dr. Simon Archer who would be credited with putting an end to the Claw, and he would realize the goal that at first he had felt was far beyond his reach and ability. With Dr. Darius gone, at long last, it was his department, and now his reputation would flourish.

  As for the Claw, he must forever remain dead along with Leon. To satisfy
his taste for flesh, Archer told himself that he could go back to his old methods, forget about the mutilation deaths he had engineered, forget about the fresh smell of a kill, the mouth-watering urges that welled up at the smell of blood. He could do it, he told himself, and if he could not, he'd have to fashion a new weapon, something that could not be linked to the Claw or to him. Finding everything calm in the lab, he excused himself, saying he would be at the interrogation center with Rychman. Within ten minutes, he was sitting behind a one-way mirror listening to Rychman grill Leon. Helfer had apparently agreed to fully cooperate in return for leniency and mercy. He was desperately trying to answer any and all questions put to him. He continued to declare that the Claw was a physical second person and not a second personality manifestation. Dr. Ames, sitting in a corner of the interrogation room, slipped in questions between Rychman's. Ames had his own tape recorder going and he jotted down notes as well, his eyes seldom leaving Helfer, reading the man's body language. Several times Ames looked puzzled. Archer thought.

  Helfer was pleading now. “I told you... I told you, I... I don't know where he lives or who he was.”

  “You say you let this guy lead you around by the nose and you never once learned his name?”

  “That's right, that's right...” Leon was blubbering.

  “So he always initiated the contact?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he always told you where to drive to? What street corner to stand on?”

  “Yes, yes... I've told you that.”

  “And as if by magic, here comes the exact victim he wanted?”

  “That's how it happened. I hit them over the head and dragged 'em down where he told me earlier to bring them, but he cut them open, and he... he ate from their insides. I... I just faked that part. It made me sick.” A lie as the fo-rensics evidence had shown.

  “How did he contact you? By phone?”

  “No. He'd just show up.”

  “And you sat around waiting for him?” asked Dr. Ames.

  “But you told Dr. Coran that he telephoned you.”

  “No, no! Only the once, the time he set me up... just before he killed the policewoman.”