by Unknown
Avery was barely focused on what he was saying.
“Excellent,” she mumbled, her mind on astrology.
“You learn anything from him?” Ramirez said and pointed to the prison.
“I’m not sure yet. Want to take a ride? I’ll drop you off later.”
“Where to?”
“The Observatory.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Judson B. Coit Observatory on Commonwealth Avenue was well known to Avery. It was the only true stargazing dome in Boston, and it was part of Boston University, where she’d attended college. Once or twice, her ex-husband, Jack, had tried to lure her into the Arts & Sciences Building so they could drink wine and view the stars, alone on the roof. Avery had never been interested. Heights frightened her, and staring at the sky for too long had always filled her with too many questions about the universe that she couldn’t answer. She preferred to keep her feet on the ground and her mind on the present.
Back on her old stomping grounds near Fenway Park, Avery turned off Commonwealth and parked at the back of the A&S Building. She’d taken one required course there during her tenure, so she was familiar with how to reach the Observatory.
They walked up five flights to the top floor. The stairs opened into a large, brick-lined area with benches and pictures of the universe. Students ambled about, and a tour guide was in the middle of a presentation.
“Now we move on to…”
The main observatory room was similar to the waiting area in the hall: extremely large, brick-lined, with numerous desks. There was a large, floor-to-ceiling whiteboard with a ladder-on-wheels so the professor could position it wherever they wanted. A few students sat alone doing research before a wall of computers.
A second level was visible from the floor. Avery looked up to see a circular opening in the ceiling, protected by a wooden banister. Above it was a domed area, and beyond that lay the roof and observatory.
She jogged up a spiral staircase and was quickly followed by Ramirez. More students were on the next level, taking notes while being led by a tour guide. Avery scanned the walls. Numerous sayings in Latin were inscribed in stone. Pictures lined the area. One in particular seemed to be of all the astronomy professors, past and present.
“The Observatory was originally located on Boylston Street,” the guide was saying. “It was named after the first professor of astronomy appointed at Boston University. It’s not just used by undergraduate and graduate programs. People from all over the state come here to study the stars.”
Avery continued up.
A door opened to the roof.
Something like a beat-up trailer was located on top, right beside a white-domed viewing station. Inside the small shack was a workshop. Two long, wooden tables on either side were stuffed with tool boxes, soldering equipment, duct tape, adhesives, metal, wood, and countless other items. On the walls and shelves were tuning forks and various light bulbs and telescope parts and tools.
A middle-aged man with black, graying hair was perched on a stool. He wore overalls and a black T-shirt and was deeply engaged with what appeared to be a grimy generator. He tried to unscrew a part, but the bolt had been stripped.
“Excuse me,” Avery said.
The man startled and turned. He was handsome, slightly tanned, and agitated.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “you can’t be up here.”
He prepared to go back to work.
“We’re police,” Ramirez said.
Avery offered her badge. Ramirez showed his.
“Oh,” the man said. A quick lean forward and he squinted and spoke both of their badge numbers out loud.
“I have a photographic memory,” he said of their curious expressions. “This way, if I ever need to reach one of the two police officers that accosted me on my roof, I can find you.”
“We’re sorry to bother you like this,” Avery said. “I’m Detective Black, and this is my partner, Detective Ramirez.”
“Peter Landing,” he said, “I’m one of the astronomy professors here at Boston University. Today,” he sighed, “I’m acting as the observatory assistant. Can’t get this generator to work,” he mumbled and turned back to his desk to work again, until he remembered Avery and Ramirez were standing there, and he slowly swiveled his chair around.
“How long have you worked here?”
“Going on twenty years,” he said, as if just realizing that fact.
“What do you do here?” Avery asked.
“Besides teach astronomy?” He laughed. “That’s a very good question. The lectures are only a small fraction of my day, that’s true. I also prepare the labs for the students. Well,” he countered, “my assistant typically prepares the labs. You know, concrete, hands-on science? So students can actually witness firsthand what’s happening up in the universe? Things like that. Take light, for example,” he said. “This semester we had a lab where students studied the light reflected off rocks. The idea was to show them that planets and moons with similar rocks would emit a similar light across the universe, you see?”
“What’s the purpose of that?” Ramirez wondered.
“Well, light is the only way we see other planets and observe other stars.”
“Ah,” Ramirez noted, “I see.”
“Do you?” Landing honestly wondered.
Avery pointed to the sky.
“Can you see anything in the daytime?”
Landing came to life.
“Yes, of course,” he said. “Obviously, light from our sun dilutes the sky so during the day it appears as if there are no stars directly above. But there are. We can see some of them in the day, but we can also see a host of other objects: the sun, the moon, planets, even satellites. Would you like to take a look?”
“Sure,” Avery said. “Are we going in there?”
She pointed to the large white dome.
“No need for that,” he said. “The dome is only used to help drown out the light during night viewings. Since we’re looking at the sky in the daytime, we can use one of these.”
He pointed to three telescopes that had already been set up.
“A class earlier today was observing the moon. Might have to make a slight adjustment,” he said as he fiddled with one of the telescopes and peered through. “There we go,” he said. “You can see a waning crescent right now, about three-quarters full. Take a look.”
With a wave, he stepped back.
Avery had never seen anything through a telescope before. A friend growing up had owned one, but he’d never figured out how to view anything, so all she’d observed was darkness. A giddy feeling came over her, like a child about to enter a fun new ride.
She closed one eye and pressed the other one against the rubber eyepiece.
The gray orb that appeared in her view was spectacular to behold, a large object lit by the sun and surrounded by blue sky. Darker circles of flat land could be seen, along with splatter holes and white-tipped mountains and rocks.
“Wow,” she said. “Incredible.”
Ramirez took a look next.
“I assume you didn’t come all the way here to look at the moon,” Landing said.
“Yes, that’s true.” Avery smiled. “We’re hoping you can help us find someone. We’re in the middle of an investigation and we have reason to believe a suspect might have worked at this observatory, or came to BU to study astrology. Is there anyone you can remember in all your years that really stood out as a potential problem? Maybe someone that was kicked out for aggression, or a student that seemed dangerous in some way?”
Landing scratched his head.
“You do realize that over ten thousand people work at this school each year, and we have nearly thirty-five thousand undergraduates and graduates, each year,” he stressed.
“Well”—Avery smiled—“since you have a photographic memory, that shouldn’t be much of a problem for you, should it?”
Landing laughed.
“Very funny,” he said.
“So you want me to help you find a student or professor that was either kicked out or somehow stood out as aggressive among the thousands of people that I happen to know, is that right?”
A dawning realization came to Avery. The Observatory had been a long shot to begin with, but with the knowledge of the actual number of visitors and students, she wondered: What if he didn’t stand out at all? What if he came here but was invisible?
She tried to rally.
“That’s right,” she said.
Landing clapped and stood up from his seat. He was short and wiry, and he slid in between the two of them like they weren’t there. On the black roof, he put his hands behind his back and began to pace.
“Sorry,” he said, “I think more clearly when I’m walking. Now let’s see. If you’re trying to find someone, we should narrow down the parameters. You say it’s a man. Do you have an approximate age?”
“Could be anywhere from thirty to sixty,” Ramirez said.
Avery nodded in agreement.
“Hm,” Landing mumbled, “any personality traits you can offer?”
“Angry,” Avery said. “He’s angry, and he feels somehow connected to the stars. Maybe someone pushed him on a point and he disagreed. He might have lashed out.”
“Not very many aggressive students in the astronomy program.” Landing smiled. “Connected to the stars,” he echoed. “Now that’s interesting. Do you know anything about the stars and planets?”
They both shook their heads.
“Then you’re at a distinct disadvantage from your suspect, I believe. A quick lesson, you see, is that astronomy is all about the universe, the planets, stars, clusters—whatever we can find up there using math and a telescope. Everything has a pattern, a very distinct signature. For example, all of the planets in our solar system revolve around the sun. Stars move, but they move very slowly in conjunction with the universe around them. Astronomers study the light and patterns and try to make observations about things that we can’t see, from what we can.”
Patterns, Avery thought. What if he’s killing in a pattern?
The placement of the body became even more important, as well as the angle of her body, and the shadow and the star.
Could he have been indicating a certain constellation?
Ramirez rubbed his head.
“What does this have to do with angry students?” he wondered.
“Nothing.” Landing brightened. “But if you’re searching for an angry former student that might have done something wrong, and you came to the Observatory, then you think whatever he’s done is somehow connected to the cosmos, and if that’s the case, you might want to learn a thing or two about the subject.”
Slighted, Ramirez opened his mouth to fire back.
“That’s a very good point,” Avery said with a stern look at her partner. “However, is there anything you can remember about a particular student or professor?”
Landing straightened his back and put a finger to his chin.
“I’m going to be honest,” he said. “There’s only one boy that really stands out in my mind that matches your description. Whether he’s a killer or not I can’t say. He was here about two years ago. Dark hair, blue eyes. Very unnerving young man. My assistant at the time was a young girl named Molly and she swore this boy was up to no good. She had no real reason for the claim, but then the director of the Observatory threw him out when he attacked another student during a night viewing session. After that, I heard he was thrown out of the school.”
“Do you have a name?” Avery asked.
Landing’s eyes moved from side to side.
“John,” he recalled. “John Deluca. But,” he added quickly with a frown at both of them, “you shouldn’t really form a suspect based on the memories of one man and a situation that occurred years earlier. If I were you, I would check with the registrar, and maybe even meet with the dean to see about other aggressive instances on campus. Otherwise, this connection seems a bit weak to me, don’t you think?”
Ramirez checked his phone.
“Not that weak,” he said, and showed Avery the name John Deluca on his notepad. “That’s one of the names Venemeer’s friend gave me. One I hadn’t checked out yet. A real creeper that used to work in her shop. His name is John Deluca.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“It can’t be a coincidence,” Avery said when they were back in the car.
“I just can’t believe your boy Randall came through for you.” Ramirez howled. “Who would have thought that Howard Randall would give you some honest intel?”
Avery pointed at her dashboard computer.
“See what you can find on Deluca. If he’s not in the system, we’ll split up. You’ll take the registrar at BU and I’ll head to Venemeer’s bookstore. If he worked there, they paid him checks so his address should be on file.”
Her car computer came with the same identification system they had in the office, only with a higher security system because it often used an unsecure wireless account.
Ramirez typed on the keyboard.
“Got him,” he said.
The police mug shot showed an angry, agitated young man, most likely on illegal or prescription drugs. He had unclean, wavy black hair and blue eyes, a narrow neck, and emaciated cheeks.
“Looks just like Landing said he would,” Avery realized.
“Now does that look like the face of a killer or does that look like the face of a killer?” Ramirez excitedly asked.
“Known address,” Avery mumbled and read.
She backed out of the lot and took off.
Ramirez scrolled through the docket.
“Hmmm,” he said. “This sheet is seven years old. Says here he was caught in a brawl on the BU campus. That must be why he was kicked out. He was on probation for two years. This address was updated from his school dorm. Let’s hope he’s still there.”
“Anything else?”
“Nothing since then. But that doesn’t mean he’s innocent. I mean, he was fired from Venemeer’s shop. That’s big, right? Maybe we should call for backup.”
“Why?”
Ramirez twisted his face.
“What’s with you and no backup?”
In her mind, Avery returned to one of her foster centers, being beaten and kicked by her childhood tormentor. Everyone in the room was yelling: “Get her! Kick her. She thinks she’s better than everyone else. Not so great now, are you, Black?” The entire time, a girl Avery had thought was her best friend stood by and did nothing.
No backup then, she thought. No backup at Desoto’s. No backup now.
“This is a routine Q&A,” she answered. “His name came up on the suspect list, we went to his house to investigate. No reason to call in the troops just yet.”
The address led Avery to a suburban street in East Roslindale. Houses were nicely spaced apart, with front lawns and garages. The house in question was a dilapidated, three-story corner home. Work was being done on the property. Elevated about four feet from the street, it had a stone wall around the entire area. The lawn had been replaced by gravel.
“Nice house,” Ramirez joked.
Avery had a strange feeling. All the boxes checked: John Deluca worked at Venemeer’s shop. He was an astronomy major that was kicked out. The victim’s body had a star drawn above it. The house, however, didn’t fit. This looks like a family house, Avery thought. Maybe it’s his parents’, or it was left to him in a will.
They parked on the street and walked up the steps to the front door.
A very sweet, middle-aged woman answered the door. She was small, with cropped blond hair and rosacea on her cheeks.
“Hi there!” she cheerily said. “What can I do for you?”
Both of them flashed their badges.
“Is this the house of John Deluca?” Avery asked.
“Why, yes, it is,” she said with a frown. “Is something wrong?”
“Is he home?” Avery asked.
“Yes, he is
.”
“Can we talk to him?”
The woman became smaller and more guarded.
“I’m not sure,” she muttered and glanced inside the house.
“Miss, please,” Ramirez said. “Your son is not in trouble. We are on a routine case and would just like to ask him a few questions.”
Her shoulders slumped and she glanced up at them with a downturned chin.
“Did he do something?” she asked in a whisper.
Avery and Ramirez shared a look.
“Miss, please,” Ramirez said.
She opened the door.
“He’s downstairs,” she mumbled. “He lives downstairs. Would you mind if I came down? He doesn’t always react well to visitors.”
“Are you his mother?” Avery asked. “Ms. Deluca?”
“Yes.” She brightened. “I am. But you can call me Suzie.”
“Thank you, Suzie. I’m curious. Do you usually know when your son comes and goes from the house?”
“Of course,” she said, flustered. “We’re on a schedule. He has to be on a schedule, otherwise he gets very confused and emotional.”
They moved over a brown rug and into a yellow-painted kitchen. A wooden door led to the basement. Suzie slowly took the lead and held onto the wooden banister.
The basement was a dark and bizarre space, lit only by a couple of bulbs that hung from the ceiling, the entire floor matted with a black carpet. Planets hung from the ceiling, so many that it took Avery a minute to realize it was supposed to be the Milky Way galaxy, and then other galaxies and stars. Puffy white cotton balls had been grouped together and dotted with blue to form gaseous clusters. The walls were all painted black and dotted with stars and painted with other galaxies and planets. There was a bed and table and bookshelf but they were all insignificant compared to the wild depiction of the universe that filled the dark void.
“Jesus,” Ramirez whispered.
He kept his hand on his gun.
A young man sat on the floor with a flashlight, deeply immersed in a book. Even from his seated position, he appeared tall and gaunt. The unclean black hair matched the picture from his mug shot. He wore black sweatpants that made him seem like half a body against the black carpet, and an old white T-shirt. Avery tried to look for shoes to see about a fit.