Red Death

by Alan Jacobson

  “The asshole who caused all sorts of problems during the Dead Eyes case? The senator’s security chief?”

  “And former special agent. Yep. Him. Robby did some poking around, made the connection.”

  “Hmm. Okay. So what’s that got to do with you?”

  “Hancock and I didn’t exactly end things on a positive note.”

  “Oh yeah.” Gifford laughed. “I remember now. ‘Positive note’ is pretty funny.”

  “I didn’t mean it as a joke.”

  “And this complaint certainly isn’t. Best I can determine, after drawing it up, Ferraro sent it to the attorney general’s office. And he referred it to the DOJ’s inspector general. After a few phone calls he opened a case. They’re starting an investigation.”

  Government bureaucracy moves like a snail. Except when it runs like a cheetah.

  “An investigation into what?”

  “Haven’t seen the paperwork yet. Just got a verbal heads-up.”

  “If you can give me some clue as—”

  “All I know is it has something to do with unlawful entry.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Do I have to answer that?”

  “No.” She sighed loudly. “Can I talk off the record? As your future daughter-in-law?”

  “You’re putting me in a very tough spot, Karen. Only spousal privilege means anything in the eyes of the law. In-laws don’t enjoy the same protections.”

  “Fine. Then you’re not hearing this.” She waited a beat and he didn’t stop her, so she continued. “The complaint is bullshit. We’re dealing with an offender who poisons his vics. From a distance. We determined there might be a way to predict who his next victims are, so my partner and I were checking in on those women. Second one on our list, I heard something inside the house. A groan, or something, maybe someone coughing—a precursor to death from this toxin—and I went in. Turns out she had a dog and he was growling or moaning. We were too late. She died.”

  “Will your partner corroborate?”

  Vail glanced over at Russell, who’d been alternating his gaze between Vail and the road ahead. “Yeah. Of course he will. He was right there with me. I mean, he didn’t hear the noises I heard, but—”

  “Jesus Christ, Karen.” He was silent a moment. “This could be trouble.”

  “Can’t you call Knox?” she asked, referring to the FBI director. Knox knew Vail well because of her involvement with OPSIG, the Operations Support Intelligence Group—a covert ops division Knox had been instrumental in starting. He seemed to have her back.

  “Who do you think gave me the verbal heads-up?”

  “So we’re good, right?”

  “No, Karen, we’re not good. Because the attorney general is Knox’s boss and I’m pretty sure there’s a limit to the director’s reach.”

  Vail closed her eyes.

  I have to focus on this killer. I don’t need this shit now.

  “Wish I could tell you how this is gonna shake out. But I’ve got no feel for it. We just have to let it ride.”

  Vail sighed. “Do I need an attorney?”

  “You could call FLEOA,” he said, referring to the Federal Law Enforcement Officers Association. “But I really can’t advise you on this. It’s a conflict, even if this conversation isn’t really happening. I mean, on a personal level, if I tell you to get an attorney and it ends up backfiring, Robby will be pissed at me.”

  “I think he’d understand. But regardless, don’t say anything to him. Let me tell him what happened, okay?”

  “Of course.”

  “He knows I was having a problem with Ferraro. He’s the one who found out about the connection to Hancock.” Vail pinched the bridge of her nose. “Anyway, I’ll take care of it. But if you hear anything else—”

  “I’ll let you know … whatever I’m allowed to tell you.”

  “I understand.” And she did. But she still found it frustrating. “Administratively. How does this go down?”

  “I’ve only had a few other cases like this, and it was a while ago, so I may not have this a hundred percent right. But here’s what I think will happen. Now that the inspector general has opened an investigation, a couple of agents will be assigned, if that’s not already happened. I’ll be notified—officially—that a case has been opened. I may then have the option of recalling you home, or the AG could mandate it if he thinks it’s a particularly egregious breech of Bureau procedure.”

  “Is it?”

  “If you’re asking, you already know the answer. Yes.”

  “Yeah. If the complaint was legit.”

  “Have you ever done anything like this before?”

  Well, um, yep. In Napa. That was even worse than this. But Robby’s life was in danger. And I’d do it again.

  “On second thought, I don’t want to know.”

  And we won’t even talk about what I’ve done with OPSIG.

  “Probably best.”

  “Would’ve been better to keep your mouth shut there, Karen.”

  “You know I’m not good at that, sir.”

  Gifford groaned audibly. “It’s hard being your boss, Karen.”

  “I know, but someone’s got to do it. And I can think of no one better suited for the job. Certainly not my idiot unit chief. Uh—we’re still off the record, right?”

  “Karen, I’m concerned about this investigation. Whether you’re up to it. You—well, you sometimes don’t think before you speak.”

  “I’m getting better.”

  Gifford groaned again.

  “I’ll be fine. I can turn it off whenever I need to.”

  Hope he buys that, because I’m lying big-time.

  “That’s BS. You and I both know that. But that’s for another time. Right now, since you’re in the middle of a major case, I’m going to make the executive decision to run interference for you and leave you there. Don’t make me regret it.”

  “This is where I’m supposed to tell you not to worry.”

  “Right.”

  “Don’t worry, sir. I won’t get into any more trouble.”

  “And I’ll do my best to keep you in Hawaii, but if I’m forced to put you on the rubber gun squad, I may not have a choice.”

  The rubber gun squad was Bureau slang for administrative duties. And that would suck because all her cases would be reassigned for the foreseeable future.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “My guess?” Gifford said. “It’ll depend on past conduct. If they see any red flags, they’ll be more aggressive early on in the investigation.”

  “Okay.”

  “Once the OIG decides they’ve got enough information, they’ll want to interview you,” Gifford said, using the abbreviation for Office of Inspector General. “The case agent will reach out to schedule something. I’ll be notified as well.”

  “And that’s where I get to explain myself and give them background on Ferraro—and stop this stupid waste of time before it goes any farther.”

  “Karen, put on your Bureau hat for a moment. Hard to do, I know, but separate yourself from this. They’ll check out whatever you tell them, but I’m sure Ferraro will deny it. And they’re gonna focus on your actions, not Ferraro’s relationship to a former thorn in your side. Remember, your behavior and your actions are the purpose of the investigation, not Ferraro’s. And once they start opening the can—”

  “The worms crawl out. Like my arrest during the Dead Eyes case.”

  “That and all the other shit I’ve had to deal with over the years.”

  Vail tried not to take that dig personally. “So should I just decline the OIG interview? Can I do that?”

  “Depends. There are two types of interviews: voluntary and compelled. For voluntary, you can decline. No consequences. But for
compelled, you’re required to do it as a condition of your employment.”

  “So I get to potentially bury myself.” She shook her head. “Definitely need an attorney.”

  “You get what I think is called limited use immunity. Whatever you say can’t be used against you in a criminal case. Just don’t perjure yourself.”

  “Always good advice, sir.”

  “I’m not joking,” Gifford said.

  “Neither am I.”

  “Just keep in mind that anything you say in a voluntary interview can be used in a criminal case against you.”

  Vail chuckled. “So hope for a compulsory interview?”

  “This is the FBI, so nothing’s simple. I think they’ll try to get you to come in for a voluntary interview first. If you say no, they’ll have to go to the assistant US Attorney to ask him or her to decide whether or not the case will be prosecuted. If the case is declined, they can then compel you to be interviewed.”

  “Either way, I could be screwed.”

  “Think positive. If you do retain an attorney, he’ll have the resources to dig around on Ferraro, find some witnesses who’ll support your assertions. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Karen, there’s nothing for you to do about this right now. Focus on your case. This is gonna drag on for a while. You have to compartmentalize.”

  “I’ll put it in a closet.”

  “Figuratively, yeah. Try to do that. I know this isn’t fun, but it’s part of the job, right?”

  “It is when people like Hancock and Ferraro are involved.”

  “Don’t get into it with the assistant chief, okay?”

  “What would I say?”

  “Not as worried about what you’d say as what you’d do.”

  “Like?”

  “I don’t want you punching him out.”

  “You really think I’d do that?”

  There was silence.

  “Guess that’s my answer.” Wish I could say he’s wrong. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Make sure that’s good enough.”

  Vail hung up and slumped against the passenger door.

  Russell glanced over at her a couple of times, alternating between Vail and the road. “I take it that didn’t go well. Ferraro causing problems?”

  “Lots.”

  “Man, what the hell’s his deal?”

  “Doesn’t matter, does it? He made a complaint to the US Attorney General. And that’s set in motion an inspector general investigation.”

  “Jesus,” Russell said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Let’s just put it out of our minds and concentrate on the case.”

  Russell laughed. “Can you do that?”

  “Give it my best shot.”

  “Your best shot while distracted is better than a lot of cops with complete focus.”

  “Thanks. Appreciate that. True or not. It does make me feel better.”

  “Sounds like you need to call an attorney. Want to do that now or wait till you’re back?”

  She thought about that a moment. “Yeah, may help to put my mind at ease. I’ll make it quick.”

  Vail searched her contacts and pulled up the number for P. Jackson Parker, a defense attorney who had been a tenacious nemesis—until he became her best advocate during the Dead Eyes case.

  The number connected, and she was expecting to get his voice mail when he answered. “Mr. Parker.”

  “Karen Vail? Is my caller ID right?”

  “I didn’t think you had caller ID. Isn’t that newer technology?”

  Parker laughed boisterously. “You know me too well, Agent Vail. Not sure that’s good or bad. But since you callin’ me, I’d say that’s good for me and bad for you.”

  “Always know how to cut to the chase, Mr. Parker. Got a situation here and just want some advice.” She related the sequence of events and the facts as she knew them.

  “I’ve dabbled in employment law, but not federal administrative employment law. You don’t want to fool around with this. Might be better hiring an attorney who specializes in it. What about the FBI Agents Association? They rep FBI agents exclusively, so they should know their shit.”

  “Should?”

  “Depends on who you get. You know how it goes. Good and bad in every profession.”

  “I know you.”

  “Be happy to take your money, Agent Vail, but quite frankly, you need someone who knows what he’s doing. This federal arena, it’s an animal all its own. But I think the world of you, so I’m not gonna let your ass flap in the breeze. Let me cogitate on this and see who I’d want to trust my career to.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “I’ll have someone dial you up. So don’t be screening your calls.”

  “Thanks Mr. Parker.”

  “I think it’s time to call me Jackson.”

  “Only if you call me Karen.”

  “I ever face you in court again, we’ll need to change things up again.”

  “Look forward to it.”

  “Me too. And good luck with that investigation.”

  She hung up and took a breath. “We’re back in business.”

  “Let me put you in the right frame of mind,” Russell said as he completed a right turn. “Looks to me like our killer’s taking a lot more risks. Four victims inside of a week. Five if you count Kelleher.”

  Vail appreciated Russell diving right back in. He was right: it forced her to focus. “We don’t know what the UNSUB’s normal pattern is. And we still can’t say with any certainty when he sold the bars to these vics.”

  “I don’t know about soap, but if you bought some premium chocolate, would you set it aside and wait days or weeks to eat it?”

  “Me? A confessed chocoholic?”

  “I guess if someone bought it for an after-dinner treat, they’d wait. But not very long. Regardless, we now know he’s probably still on Oahu. He took a side trip to Kauai, maybe because of the article, maybe not. But it’s safe to assume Mary Kelleher bought a chocolate bar. So for now, I’m putting her on his tab. When he went to Kauai we can’t say. At this point, all that matters is that he’s still here.”

  Vail shifted in her seat. “And still killing.”

  “Until we stop him.” Russell made another turn and said, “Got a text while you were on the phone. More semen. At Mary Grant’s house. Outside, in the yard. I would imagine he’s doing it at night so he’s not seen.”

  “Not surprised. Is it me, or does it feel like we’re getting closer?”

  “It’s you. I don’t know about getting closer to catching him, but we’re very close to Luxury Row.”

  They arrived in Waikiki and began a grid-like patrol of the high-end shopping enclave. They kept their eyes on the street as they talked.

  “So what do you make of him killing in multiple states?” Russell asked as he made a left onto Kalakaua Avenue and passed masses of people shuffling along the sidewalk.

  “I think it’s safe to say that he doesn’t live in all these places. He moves around. Which reminds me.” Vail pulled out her phone.

  “To make it tougher to catch him?”

  “That’d be the most obvious reason. Probably figures that sooner or later someone’s gonna realize that these deaths weren’t all accidental,” she said slowly while typing on her Samsung.

  “Who’re you texting?”

  “Those PDs, see if they turned up any other asphyxiation deaths that could be the work of our UNSUB.”

  “Crap. I haven’t gotten an answer on that either.” He glanced down at his phone and made a call.

  The medical examiner, Keiki Kuoko, answered. “Aloha, Adam.” His voice filled the car speakers.

  “You got anything for us?”

  “We’re still loo
king through files. Since they weren’t ruled murder, it’s a little more difficult. But I’ve found six so far. And—you’ll like this. They’re clustered in twos, roughly three years apart.”

  Vail and Russell shared a glance: a slight nod from Vail indicating they were, indeed, onto something.

  “Apparently, he’s been at this awhile,” Kuoko said. “And we had no idea.”

  “Keep looking,” Russell said. “And if you can text us the names and locations of the six victims, that’d be helpful.”

  “You’ll have it soon.”

  Vail’s phone vibrated. She read the message. “We’ve got something similar in Chicago.”

  She replied to the detective:

  bet you find more

  out here his kills were 3 yrs apart

  we think he moves around

  different states

  Her handset buzzed again while she was typing. She hit send, absorbed the new message, then turned to Russell. “LA just responded. Four so far. A couple in 2015 and another two in 2017. Waiting on Dallas and Atlanta.”

  Vail looked out the side window as they drove along the avenue. “Without knowing the offender’s normal kill pattern, we can’t say what his state of mind is. Based on what we just heard about his previous murders, both here and in the other cities, it does look like he’s upped his game. It’s possible the newspaper article set him off, served as a trigger. But we just don’t know.”

  “The good news is that he didn’t freak out and take off even if he saw it.”

  “The residents of Oahu may not think that’s such ‘good news,’ Adam. Just saying.”

  Russell turned left. “Those cities where he’s killed, they’re all big metropolitan areas, or at least they’ve got decent population density.”

  “Not quite like Oahu,” Vail said. “Definitely different from Hanapepe. Wonder if that’s significant. It’s clear why he’d choose a large city: the chances of finding a woman in her sixties named Mary are higher. But is there more to it?”

  “Like what?” Russell asked.

  “He’s familiar with these cities. It also tells me he’s either got money or an economical way of traveling. Like he uses mileage. Or maybe he has relatives in each city where he can stay when he’s in town.”

  “Accomplices?”

  “Probably not.”