Blood Game: An Eve Duncan Forensics Thriller

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Blood Game: An Eve Duncan Forensics Thriller Page 12

by Iris Johansen


  “My choice, Jane,” Patty said quietly. “In the end, we all have to decide what we’re willing to give up for payback. We all have parents or grandparents or children who will need us. Agonizing decisions sometimes. You have to weigh the memories and the debt against what’s being taken from you.”

  “Yes, your choice.” Jane gave her a quick hug. “But it wouldn’t hurt to let someone help. Call me if you need me.”

  “Only if you promise to send Charlie.” She made a shooing motion. “Now get out of here. Granddad can’t walk very far, but if he gets mad enough, he’ll stomp in here and give us all hell.”

  “We’re going,” Eve said. “Good-bye, Patty. Be careful.”

  “Within reason. I can take care of myself. Granddad does a good enough job of keeping me a prisoner without my helping it along.” She was heading for the fridge. “Bye. Give Toby a hug for me.”

  Jane didn’t speak until they had reached the car. “Damn, I was scared.” She frowned. “I wish she was more frightened. She didn’t seem too worried. She thinks she can handle anything.”

  “If she can handle that old man, she may be right.” They were passing the entrance to the park. “There are two media trucks there now. All hell will probably be breaking loose anytime now.”

  “It already broke loose.” Jane was silent a moment. “Can we get surveillance for Patty?”

  “We’ll try. We have to show cause. Once the media publishes details, I’m sure everyone in this neighborhood is going to want police protection.” She smiled. “But Patty had a good idea. Why don’t you call Charlie Brand? I’m sure he’d volunteer.”

  EIGHT

  JOE CALLED EVE AFTER NOON THAT day. “The victim is Heather Carmello. Age twenty-five, prostitute, throat slit, naked.”

  “Footprints?”

  “Clean as a whistle. How the hell he managed it in all that rain and mud is a wonder.” He paused. “There was no goblet at the scene.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  “Beats the hell out of me.”

  “But you still think it’s Jelak?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  “Jane and I were afraid the victim might be Patty Avery. Jane thought that she might have led Jelak to her last night. Is there any way we can get a house watch?”

  “Maybe, not from the department. I can hire someone.” He added, “I’ll look into it later. I’ve got to tie this up and get back to the precinct. Do you need anything?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’ll answer the question you didn’t ask. No, to my profound relief, Heather Carmello has decided to stay dead. No ghostly appearance.”

  “That’s good . . . I guess.”

  “No guess about it. And you can do me a favor and call Seth Caleb and get him to come back and answer a few more questions.”

  “Really? You practically tossed him out of the house.”

  “I wasn’t going to have him shadowing my every move, and the less I have to do with the spook brigade, the better I’ll like it. But since Heather Carmello has decided that I’m not to be her significant other, I feel like I’m on a roll. I can afford to let Caleb into closer quarters. And I need to know about that goblet. It seems to be a part of the ritual, and I want to know what the omission means.”

  “I’ll call him. When do you want to see him?”

  “Tonight. I should be through with the paperwork by six. Let’s meet him at Rico’s Restaurant near the precinct. I’ll get back to you later.” He hung up.

  Eve slowly pressed the disconnect before she said to Jane, “Heather Carmello. No goblet. He wants to ask Caleb if there’s any significance.”

  “Well, you said Béla Lugosi usually took the blood straight from the source. Maybe Jelak thinks he’s moved up in the world.”

  “Guesswork again. We need to know.” She reached in her pocket and took out the card Caleb had given her. It was heavy plain paper with only the cell number scrawled on it. “So let’s see if Caleb can tell us.”

  Before she could place the call, her phone rang.

  Montalvo.

  “I saw the Heather Carmello murder on the news. I would have liked to have heard it from you. Purely in the name of cooperation.”

  He was obviously not pleased. She probably should have told him since she couldn’t discount the information he’d given them. Well, she just couldn’t help it. She was having enough problems. “I’ve been busy.”

  “Then don’t close me out, and you won’t be so busy.”

  “Montalvo, I won’t have you out here disturbing Joe. He has enough problems. Keep out of it.”

  He was silent a moment. “Very well. I won’t be on your doorstep, but I do want to help. Tell me how I can do it.”

  He wasn’t going to give up. She tried to think. “My mother. Sandra Duncan. She lives in a condo downtown. I don’t believe she’d be a target for Jelak, but we should have some protection for her. Will you do that for me, Montalvo?”

  “Your mother. You’ve never talked about her very much. You’re not close?”

  “It’s been an up-and-down relationship. I don’t see much of her these days. At one time, we were very close.”

  “When your Bonnie was alive?”

  “Yes. Will you make sure she’s safe?”

  “You can be sure of it.” He paused. “You can always be sure of me, Eve.” He hung up.

  Eve turned away as she hung up the phone. “I guess I’d better call Sandra and tell her that she’s going to be under surveillance for a while. Or maybe not. Montalvo will be careful, and I don’t want to alarm her.”

  “I’ve never gotten used to you calling her Sandra.”

  “It was her choice when I was growing up. It made her feel younger. It still makes her feel young. That’s important to her since she’s on her fourth marriage.”

  “You never called her Mother?”

  “No, but Bonnie called her Grandma. She didn’t mind. She didn’t mind anything Bonnie did.” She looked down at the card Caleb had given her. “And now I guess I’d better make that call to Caleb.”

  “I’ll do it. You probably want to get to work.” Jane took the card. “I think I’ll go out on the porch. I need to relax for a few minutes. It’s been quite a morning.”

  Eve watched her as she went out the door before she turned to the reconstruction. She did want to get to work, but she was feeling on edge and distracted.

  Montalvo?

  No, not Montalvo. It had been talking about her mother and Bonnie. It had brought back too many memories. From the day Bonnie was born, it had been a golden time for Eve and her mother. Her little girl had seemed to bridge all the bitterness and resentment that Eve had felt toward a mother who had been a crack addict from the time Eve could remember. It had been Bonnie who had held that fragile relationship together by the sheer love they had both felt for her. It was Bonnie who had spurred her grandmother to suffer through painful withdrawal just so she could be with her grandchild. Even on that last day in the park, Eve could remember how Sandra had glowed with happiness while she was pushing Bonnie in the swing.

  “Enough.” Sandra stood back and wiped her forehead. “I’m getting too old for this. Go get your mother to push you, Bonnie.”

  “That’s okay. I’m ready to get down.” Bonnie slipped out of the swing. “Thanks, Grandma.” She ran up to Eve, who was sitting on the bench. Her cheeks were blazing pink with happiness, and her eyes were shining. “Did you see how high I went? We should make up a song about swings and going up, up, up.”

  “I’m sure someone already did. But we could make up another one.”

  “And about the sunshine, and the trees, and . . . oh, everything.”

  “That will be a very long song. But we’ll take a stab at it tonight. It’s almost time to go home, baby.”

  “Not yet.” She threw herself into Eve’s arms. “Ten more minutes, Mama. Please. Please. Please. I want to go and get an ice cream.”

  “Where?”

  “Right
over there. That booth by that big tree.”

  Eve caught a glimpse of a white stand with red lettering through the shifting crowd of parents and children. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  “I can go by myself.” Bonnie was already running toward the ice-cream stand, darting in and out of the crowds. “Grandma already gave me the money. I’ll be right back.”

  Eve smiled at Sandra. “Grandma already gave her the money? Grandma is spoiling her rotten.”

  Sandra shook her head. “Not possible. What’s an ice cream?” She smiled. “I love her in that Bugs Bunny T-shirt. I was wondering if maybe we could afford to take her to Disney World this year.”

  “I’m pretty strapped for cash.” But the thought of Bonnie’s face when she was confronted with all that magic was very tempting. “Maybe if I could get a second job . . .”

  “Only for a little while. I know you’re working hard at school too,” Sandra said. “But she’d love Cinderella’s Castle.”

  Not only love it, but be dazzled. A dazzled Bonnie was too much to resist. “We’ll work it out.”

  “I can’t wait to tell her,” Sandra said, her gaze going to the ice-cream stand that had once again come into view as the crowds shifted. “Will you let me do it, Eve?”

  She was as childishly excited as Bonnie had been when she’d dashed for the ice-cream stand. “Okay, but don’t give a date. I have to see what I can—”

  “Where is she?” Sandra interrupted. “I don’t see her.”

  “What?” Eve frowned, her gaze flying to the ice-cream stand. “But she was right there. I saw her a minute ago in front of the stand.”

  But she wasn’t there now. No little girl in a Bugs Bunny T-shirt and wild red curls.

  Eve jerked to her feet in a panic.

  “Bonnie!”

  KEEP CALM. EVEN NOW THE MEMORY of that moment of terror was bringing back all the horror of the nightmare.

  Get busy. Eve whirled toward the reconstruction of Matt on the pedestal. She began to work swiftly, frantically. “Help me, Matt.” Her fingers started smoothing the clay. “And I’ll help you.”

  “WE’VE GOT IT PATCHED.” The burly Georgia Power repairman was coming toward Patty with a clipboard in his hand. “Sorry it took so long.” He held up the wire. “I had to cut it and splice in a new wire.”

  “No problem.” Patty couldn’t take her gaze from the remains of the wire coiled in his hand. “You did a neat job.”

  “That’s not my work. It was severed where it reached the house.” He shook his head. “It was cut through.”

  She stiffened. “How?”

  “Don’t ask me, lady. Whoever did it knew what they were doing, or they would have been electrocuted.”

  “Someone cut it?” She shook her head. “I thought it was caused by the storm.”

  “We didn’t have any outages last night in this area.”

  “That’s what they told me when I called your office to report the power loss,” she said absently, her gaze on the wire.

  “You should have believed them.” He handed her the clipboard and a pen. “Sign there.”

  She signed her name and handed him the board. “You’re sure? Couldn’t something have fallen on it? Maybe a branch that would tear it and—”

  “It was snipped clean as a whistle,” he repeated. “It might not be a bad idea to call the police and make out a report on this.” His gaze went across the street to the park. “Some bad things are happening around here lately.”

  “I may do that.”

  “Do you want this?” He held up the coiled wire.

  “No.” Good God, it was actually reminding her of a serpent. Silly. That wasn’t like her. No one was more practical or less imaginative than she. “Just throw it in the garbage can on your way out.”

  “Right.”

  She watched him go out the gate before she slowly followed him. She should get back to Granddad. She’d already been away from him too long. There was little doubt she’d be in for one of his tantrums.

  The coiled wire was on top of the trash as she reached the front of the house.

  Some bad things are happening around here.

  She shivered. Yes, they were. And for the first time she felt as if those bad things were creeping close to her.

  Stop standing here staring at that damn wire. She lifted her shoulders as if to shrug off that heavy burden. Just go inside and soothe down Granddad and make his supper, then think about what she should do.

  If that crazy son of a bitch was trying to make her a victim, then she’d find a way to blow him out of the water.

  SETH CALEB WAS ALREADY WAITING in the reception area at Rico’s when Eve and Jane walked into the restaurant.

  He smiled. “This is an interesting place. Sombreros on the walls and policemen at every table.”

  “The food is good, and it’s close to the precinct,” Eve said. “Joe should be here any minute.”

  “He’s here now,” Joe said from behind her. “I would have been here sooner, but Ed Norris stopped me when I was leaving.” He hailed a white-aproned waiter. “A table, Marco.”

  Marco smiled. “Right away, Detective. Only one minute.”

  “Why meet here?” Caleb asked. “Am I supposed to be intimidated by all this display of legal might?”

  “If you have reason to be,” Joe said. “But I didn’t want to wait until I got home to question you. There’s a chance I might have to go back to the precinct to check out something you tell me.”

  “What trust.” Caleb gestured for Jane and Eve to precede him as the waiter led them to a table. “But at least you think I have something to contribute.” He waited until they were all seated and had ordered drinks before he continued, “Tell me about Heather Carmello. The information on the news was very sketchy.”

  “We weren’t hiding anything from the media. She was a prostitute who usually worked the bars on Peachtree. Same MO as the Norris killing.”

  Caleb stared him in the eye. “Except?”

  “No goblet. Does that have significance?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Then what the hell does it mean?” Joe said through his teeth, when Caleb didn’t elaborate. “Do I have to pull it out of you?”

  “No, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t intend to tell you what you need.”

  “He’s pissed at you, Joe,” Jane said bluntly. “He wants to give you a few needles before he lets you have what you want.”

  “Exactly.” Caleb smiled at Jane. “How perceptive you are.” He turned back to Joe. “But I’m through with that for the time being. What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me about Jelak in Fiero. Tell me about the ritual. Tell me about the goblet.”

  “In what order?”

  Eve had had enough. “Don’t play games with us,” she said curtly. “A woman was killed last night. You think Jane may be on his list too. I won’t have her in danger because we don’t know enough.”

  “You don’t mention that you’re his prime target.” Caleb smiled. “I find that curious.”

  “Tell us,” Eve said. “Everything.”

  Caleb shrugged. “There are people fascinated with vampires all over the planet. Your United States is particularly fond of the concept. Movies, best-selling books, TV series. It’s no wonder Jelak became so obsessed with them.”

  “It’s entertainment,” Jane said. “No one believes they actually exist.”

  “People believe what they want to believe. Particularly if they’re unstable to begin with. I’m sure you’ve found out by now that Jelak has always had an affinity for blood. He collected vials of blood from the time he was a boy.”

  “We just recently found that out. How did you know that?” Eve asked.

  “I had an extremely violent discussion with Jelak’s teacher, Master Franco Donari. Jelak had bared his soul to Donari while he was teaching him.”

  “Teaching him what?” Joe asked.

  “The way to win the game,” he said softly.

 
; “You mentioned a game before. What the hell do you mean?” Eve asked.

  “Blood Game. The path that would lead Jelak to his heart’s desire.” He glanced at Joe’s impatient expression. “I’m getting to it. Give me a little time.” He took a sip of the margarita the waiter had set before him. “Franco Donari was a member of a cult group located in Fiero, Italy. It was a fairly small group, a dozen or so, whose members bragged that they were of the true blood and had all kinds of rituals and ceremonies to glorify themselves.”

  “They actually thought they were vampires?”

  “Yes, or on their way. They conveniently forgot the stories about the effects of garlic, or crosses, or melting in the sunlight. That would have been uncomfortable. But they embraced the power and the fear.”

  “Ridiculous.”

  “I can’t argue with you there, but they’d bought into the idea and developed it along the lines they wanted it to go. They looked upon themselves as scholars above the rest of humanity. When Jelak discovered them, he thought he’d found a home. But to his chagrin he found that it wasn’t that easy. He couldn’t just join the fraternity. He had to earn his way.”

  “Killing?” Jane asked.

  He nodded. “And the ingesting of the blood. The cult doctrine preached that eternal life and godlike powers could only be attained by taking the life and blood of many truly exceptional victims. That way he could gain all their strength and power until he reached his exalted state. It was supposedly an odyssey that could take years.”

  “He killed a prostitute last night,” Joe said. “That wasn’t very selective.”

  “No, that may have just been a gesture of defiance. Or he could have reached out and took her to soothe the hunger.”

  “Hunger?” Eve said.

  “Donari says that after years of continuous blood taking, Jelak probably developed an appetite that had to be appeased. That’s why Donari told Jelak that he should find a host that would provide him with basic sustenance and free him to search out his exceptional kills.” He took another drink. “Jelak told him that he had someone in mind. He didn’t give him a name, or I’d have been able to locate Jelak a hell of a lot sooner.”

 

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