by Jon F. Merz
I laughed. “I’ll have you know I’m very nicely dressed, thank you.”
“Let me guess: black turtleneck, leather jacket, dark jeans, and boots.”
“You say that like I’m still wearing bell bottoms.”
Niles sighed. “Would it kill you to embrace the skinny jeans revolution like this rest of us trendsetters?”
“Yes,” I said. “It absolutely would. I can’t wear skinny jeans; I squat. And besides, they look absolutely ridiculous, especially on dudes who need to lose a few pounds.”
“I can’t wait for you to start wearing your Hawaiian shirts again.”
“Leave my haute couture out of this conversation.” I put the papers together on the seat next to me. “I’ll check in once I clear the condo.”
“All right.”
I pulled out of the garage and headed deeper into Boston, passing through Chinatown and navigating my way through the traffic near South Station, before finally turning down Congress Street toward the waterfront. Every time I drove down here, I remembered when I used to come and visit Benny the Phreak. But it had been years since then.
The Lofts at Luxe were indeed high end. The entire facade of the building was done in a shimmery glass that made you look like you were walking through a fun house at a carnival. My lower torso gained two hundred pounds when I stepped out of the car and saw my reflection for the first time. Skinny jeans might have helped, but only just.
Inside the lobby, a high security desk sat near a waterfall that cascaded down from three stories up. The air was warm and slightly humid, a stark contrast to the dry frigid air outside. Green tropical plants and dark brown furniture gave the place a distinctly resort feel.
The guard looked up as I came in. “Good day, sir.”
I smiled. “It’s a lot warmer in here than it is outside.”
He grinned. “And what can I do for you?”
“I was hoping to speak to someone in sales?”
“Certainly. If I can have you sign in and I’ll need to see some identification as well, if you don’t mind.”
I fished my license out of my wallet and slid it across the desk. He took it and ran it through a scanner, printed out a stick-on badge, and handed it to me while I signed in on the clipboard. I glanced at the waterfall. “Does that thing play havoc with your bladder? If I had to do your job, I think I’d be in the bathroom every five minutes.”
“It doesn’t help, that’s for sure.” The guard nodded at a couch. “You can have a seat and I’ll call up to sales and see if they can send somebody down.”
“Fantastic. Thank you.”
I sank into the leather couch and heard the soft strains of ambient music coming out of speakers high overhead. For some reason, it seemed to work with the sound of the waterfall streaming down and produced a relaxed atmosphere that made me want to stretch out and take a nap.
“Mr. Lawson?”
I turned and saw the woman standing before me. She couldn’t have been much older than twenty-two. I stood up and shook her hand. “How do you do?”
“My name’s Tiffany Hollister and I’m in sales here at the Luxe. I was told you were interested in seeing one of our units?”
“Indeed I am.”
She smiled and despite her youth, she’d been polished and trained by someone who knew what they were doing. Most likely she’d gone through an intensive sales program, because even though I knew she was already selling me, it came out as natural and not forced. “Well, then, let’s go see one of our model units.”
“Lead on, please.”
She took us up in an elevator that made almost no noise. Whoever the developer of the Luxe was, they’d spent huge bucks making sure everything was the best.
“How did you hear about us?”
“I work in Boston-“
“What do you do?”
“International Law,” I said. “I have a consulting business with most of my clients overseas. But I keep an office here so the mail knows where to go.”
“And you need a home here as well, I take it?”
I nodded. “I saw the development and then one of my friends said they were buying a place here. I thought I’d come by and check it out.”
“How wonderful,” said Tiffany. “We always appreciate good word-of-mouth. I take it your friend is pleased with his purchase?”
“Her, actually,” I said. “And I think she is, although I haven’t had a chance to catch up with her in some time. I only recently returned from a trip to Berlin, so I haven’t seen her in a while. I imagine she’s getting on well, though. She always does.”
“What’s her name?” asked Tiffany. “I’d like to be sure to send her a thank-you note for recommending us to you.”
“Eileen Mazura,” I said.
As the elevator came to a stop, Tiffany frowned. “You know, I don’t recall hearing that name before. Are you sure she was here at the Luxe?”
“That’s what she said. I mean, I hope I’m in the right place. How embarrassing would that be if I showed up at the wrong development?”
Tiffany put her hand on my arm. “Well, everything happens for a reason, Mr. Lawson. And if you are in the wrong place, I like to think that we can persuade you that this is the place you should make your home here in the city.”
I smiled. “Well, let’s take a look at the unit and see if this is the perfect fit, shall we?”
Tiffany led me down the hall. It was carpeted with a deep plush rug that muffled everything. Photographs of the Boston cityscape adorned the walls and I saw there were no security cameras anywhere. I found that interesting and mentioned it to Tiffany.
“We have security in the elevators and in the lobby itself. But we found our clients don’t appreciate feeling as though every move they make is under surveillance. I’m sure a man of your means can appreciate that sentiment.”
“Absolutely,” I said. “There are cameras everywhere these days.”
“Exactly,” said Tiffany. “So we make certain to give our residents the option of a panic button just inside their door if they ever feel threatened. Our security is fully licensed and armed and can respond anywhere within the building within two minutes.”
“Fast,” I said. “I feel safer already.”
Tiffany drew to a halt outside a numbered door. “Here we are.” She typed six numbers on a keypad next to the door and I heard the click as the lock released. “Shall we step inside?”
12
I caught the scent before the door had even opened all of the way. Without thinking, I pushed Tiffany out of the way, pulled my pistol, and took the door in as if I’d had a team stacked behind me. It was instinct; the sort of thing that happens when you’ve been in the field as many years as I have. When your gut primal self realizes the danger and makes you move before your logical brain can even catch up.
Blood streaked every wall I could see. The loft had been converted to look more like a traditional apartment, which meant instead of a wide open area, it had hallways and rooms. From a tactical standpoint, it meant clearing it would take longer, but it also cut down on my visibility and I was less of a target, so that was a good thing.
Even as Tiffany’s first horrified gasp escaped her lips, I was through the entryway, clearing the kitchen, and then beyond into the living area. I compartmentalized everything as I moved, not even focusing on the gore and blood, but just making sure I kept moving and ascertained whether there was an actual threat still there or not.
By the time I cleared the two bedrooms and bathrooms, Tiffany had fainted and was slumped near the front door. I pulled her out into the hallway outside of the apartment, made sure she was breathing and had a good pulse, then pulled my phone out and called Letourneau.
“I was wondering if I’d be hearing from you today.”
I gave him the address. “You’re going to want to get down here as soon as you can.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve got one helluva crime scene waiting for you.”
>
He paused. “Should I even ask?”
“No, you should hang up the phone and get your ass down here with your guys.”
“Roger that.”
“Bring EMS. I’ve got one passed out sales rep who might be going into shock.”
I stepped back into the apartment knowing I had maybe ten minutes before this place was swarming with cops. At that point, I might not get back in here to look at the scene. I opened my camera and started shooting everything I saw for later playback - pictures and video.
From the entryway in, the walls had been splashed with streaks of blood. It wasn’t as random appearing as it had been at the Amalfi crime scene, but there was definitely a lot of it here. I saw sigils in the smears which made me frown.
Continuing in, the kitchen looked like the only room that had been spared from the majority of trauma, although droplets of blood splattered the floor. I shot it quickly and then stepped into the living area. I saw a circle on the floor, the outline done in blood as well.
Rather than a bright red, the blood had dried to the point where it was now a darkish brown, like a burnt umber crayon. The scent of it still cloyed at the air. I didn’t find the scent disagreeable, but then again, I drink the stuff, so that was to be expected.
The bedrooms had been destroyed and it looked as though the sheets and bedding had been torn apart by something sharp. But what had done it?
The living room was where I chose to focus. I stepped into the circle and out of it, shooting it from every angle I could. The walls on all four sides were awash in blood and sigils had been scrawled into muck all over the room.
If this had once been a model unit for Luxe, it was going to need to be completely gutted and redone. If Eileen had done this, then she’d done it with a definite purpose in mind. I just had no clue what that might be.
I ducked down and started looking under the furniture. I found chunks of what I assumed were bits or organs that Eileen had harvested from her victims. But I couldn’t identify any of them because they looked as though they’d been gnawed on or chewed so much that it defied description.
I straightened back up and took a deep breath. Did I have everything recorded? I fully expected the cops to show up and usher me out. In their place, I couldn’t blame them for thinking I’d contaminate the crime scene. And maybe I already was. But I had two missions: first, to make sure I got eyes on whatever had happened here first for later analysis. And second, to make sure that Eileen hadn’t left anything behind that could potentially compromise the secret existence of my race.
I couldn’t see that she had, aside from the sigils. They didn’t look like Taluk script, so I wasn’t too worried. The crime scene techs might not even see it, but I’d unfortunately been around enough magic in my career to see their presence. And seeing it didn’t make me any happier.
Sirens broke through the double-plated insulated glass windows of the loft and I took another thirty seconds to check the place one final time before finally stepping back out in the hallway.
Tiffany had started to come around, so I knelt before her and checked her vitals again. She’d be fine, but I still wanted EMS to check her out. Better safe than sorry.
“Hey.”
She looked toward the apartment door. “My god. What happened in there?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. The police will be up here any second.”
“You.” She took my hand. “How did you know before we walked in?”
“I smelled the blood,” I said. “You can’t mistake the smell once you know what it is.”
“What was it you said you did for a living again?”
I smiled. “I’m overseas a lot.”
As terrified as she was, Tiffany smiled a little bit. Perhaps she wasn’t quite the naive millennial she seemed to be. “Well, thank you, Mr. Lawson. But I’m afraid I have to say that I don’t think the Luxe is the best place for you, after all.”
“Yeah, I think you’re probably right.”
The elevator doors opened and two uniformed cops came charging out with guns drawn. I put my hands up even as Letourneau emerged from the elevator and gruffly told the cops to holster their guns.
“He’s the one who called it in you idiots.”
Letourneau stepped past them and quickly shook my hand. I nodded toward the door. “It’s all yours, pal.”
“You clear it?”
“Yeah, we nearly stepped into the thick of it, so I took it in, checked to make sure there wasn’t a welcome party waiting for us.”
Letourneau stood in the doorway and surveyed the scene, whistling as he did so. “Someone wants to be an artist, huh?”
Tiffany retched a little bit on the floor and Letourneau snatched up his radio. “Where the hell is EMS? I’ve got a casualty up here who needs treatment.” He put it down and pulled me aside. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
“I was running down a possible lead,” I said. “Came here to get a look at things, possibly get some intel on where the lead might have lived. The sales rep there said she didn’t know the name and was about to show me a model unit when I smelled the blood.”
“So you’re a bloodhound now, too?”
“C’mon, dude. You know once you smell death you never forget the scent of it.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Letourneau. “Who was the lead you were running down?”
“Woman by the name of Eileen Mazura.”
“How’d you come across that?”
“Backtracking one of the victims.”
Letourneau sighed. “Why do I still feel like you’re holding out on me, Lawson? I mean, I get you guys can’t spill your precious secrets, but this is getting ridiculous. I’ve got one - two - victims and a slaughter house apartment to deal with and no clue what the fuck is going on.”
“Hey, I called you immediately as soon as I cleared the place,” I said. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”
“Only because you probably knew you couldn’t keep it quiet like you did before. A scene like this is going to need police involvement. No, you’re not getting any gold stars for this call in. Thanks anyway.”
I leaned against the wall. “Believe it or not, I’m giving you everything I can give you at this moment. And as soon as I know something more, you’ll get that, too.”
“Why don’t you just come clean and work with me on this. I’m guessing you’re barking at every hint of pussy you can find.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Colorful.”
“I meant the cat not the - never mind - the point is if we’re both flailing then let’s throw each other a life line and try to work this thing together. You from your end and me from mine. We meet in the middle and stop this sicko before it happens again.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” I said. “But you know as well as I do that my orders come from above my pay grade. It’s not my choice to make. I wish it was.”
“Then tell your superiors that if they don’t work with me, then I’m going to start doing my best to hamstring their man on the ground. And that’s you, bub.”
“‘Bub?’ Really? After everything we’ve been through, you call me ‘bub?’”
Letourneau looked pissed but then he cracked a grin in spite of the situation. “Ah, fuck it. You know what I mean. Look, Lawson, I don’t want to be a pain but you know I can do stuff that will make your job here a lot tougher. I don’t want to do that but I will unless I start getting some serious information on exactly what the hell is going on here. I mean it. I can have every cruiser in the city start yanking you over for any number of infractions. Every one of those tickets might get thrown out, but in the meantime, I’ll be wasting every minute of your time. You won’t get shit done. And believe me when I tell you, if I ask the patrol boys to make your life a serious inconvenience, you know they will.”
“I don’t doubt it.” I stood and looked at him. “I’ll tell you what: I’ll talk to the higher-ups and see if we can’t make some sort of a
llowance for information sharing.”
“Yeah, you do that.”
“No guarantees. I can only deliver the message. Chances are, if they don’t like it, they’ll just pull me from this and replace me with someone far less cool than I happen to be. And you won’t even know who it will be. So that threat won’t hold much water.”
“Or you could just be telling me that,” said Letourneau. “Because you don’t want me thinking about how much you’re personally invested in this thing.”
“Who said I was personally invested in it? This is just another job, man.”
Letourneau smirked. “That was a pretty good sales pitch. Come to think of it, maybe you could even get a job with this place. They seem to have an opening now that their other sales rep has just been carted off to the hospital.”
“I’ll do what I can and let you know,” I said. “No promises.”
Letourneau nodded. “You do that, Lawson. And I’ll just be right here waiting while my crime scene techs go over every square inch of this place. Something tells me they might find something that even you don’t know about yet. And when that happens, just see if I’m all that anxious to share it with the boys down at Langley.”
I knew he was frustrated and I didn’t blame him. But this thing wasn’t a human matter even if was happening all over Boston. It was my job to resolve it without exposing my people.
And that’s exactly what I was going to do.
13
I left Letourneau with a request that if the security camera footage showed anyone interesting, that he let me know about it. I doubted it would show anything, though. Eileen had already proven herself cagy and I had no doubt she’d take steps to disguise her appearance if she did show up on the footage. But it didn’t hurt to try. In the meantime, I had other stuff to run down.