by Sid Kar
“What was it that he do that made them want to…” Clara began to ask.
“I won’t tell you that,” Frank cut her off, “at least until me and Joe get to know you better and trust you.”
Clara didn’t ask any more questions about that afterwards. They didn’t talk much till they reached the hotel. It was an expensive hotel used by business travelers at the intersection of two major roadways. Frank pulled up in the parking lot and turned off the engine.
“You can drop me off here,” Clara said.
“Why did you choose this hotel?” Frank asked.
“No particular reason. It had rooms available,” Clara said.
“No, that’s not why,” Frank said, “your types are trained to take every action mindful of dangers. If an intelligence agent picks a hotel, he picks one with good escape routes, seclusion, privacy. This hotel fits the bill. It has quick access to the roads, is surrounded by the trees, out in a bit of a rural area and from the windows you can see the vehicles coming up on the road.”
“You are not implying…” Clara gasped and then put her hand on her mouth.
“Panther would have used the same criteria,” Frank said getting out, “it’s a long shot, but why not try.”
“If he is here…” Clara said getting out after him, “…are you going to call for backup?”
“I don’t want to raise a big alarm over a hunch that turns into a false alarm,” Frank said, “and even if he had stayed here, he would not return injured, not as a wanted man.”
“Hotel staff doesn’t know that.”
“He can’t be sure we didn’t circulate his sketch to all the patrol units, hotels, motels, airports, train stations and such,” Frank said, “I deliberately called him ‘Panther’ so he knew we were onto him and to scare him into making a mistake.”
Frank and Clara walked inside the hotel lobby. The entrance led into a large space with marble floor, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, artwork from the walls and brightly colored sofas for the guests. The front desk was located at the very end and was shaped like an arc. The front desk clerk, dressed in black suit and red tie, smiled at Clara but stiffened when he saw Frank.
“Hello,” Clara said, “I dropped off my luggage very early this morning. I arrived before my check-in time. I would like to pick it up and my room key.” She handed her driver’s license to the clerk.
He checked her in, walked into a small room in the back and dragged out a medium sized rolling suitcase. He dropped a key in her hand.
“Room 702, ma’am,” he said.
Frank was waiting. He opened Panther’s file to the first page with a photograph and held it in front of the desk clerk.
“Seen this man? Was he your guest here?” Frank asked.
“Officer…” the clerk grinned raising both of his hands, “we respect our guests’ privacy, so unless you have a warrant from the court, I suggest you to drop your inquiry.”
“Get me the hotel manager,” Frank said.
“Excuse me?” the clerk said.
“What are you, deaf?” Frank said then raised his voice, “the hotel manager.”
The clerk stared at him for a couple seconds, then left his post and walked down a hallway. He returned a minute later accompanied by an older man wearing glasses who was similarly dressed in a black suit and a red tie.
“I am the general manager of this hotel,” the older man said, “officer either bring a warrant or evacuate the premises. The owner of this hotel chain can call the governor directly and complain if you persist.”
“I don’t think you want to call the owner,” Frank grinned, “see this suspect,” Frank showed him the photo of Panther as well, “he is not some two bit street thug. He is a prime suspect in a murder, in two attempted murders and multiple unlawful firearms discharge violations. No court is going to refuse a warrant and I can come back in two hours with twenty troopers and turn your hotel upside down,” Frank said, “your owner will like that even less. Or you can let me search one room, just one room this man rented. I will be discrete and won’t disturb your guests.”
The general manager thought for a few minutes then finally nodded his head at the clerk.
“Help him any way to locate this suspect,” the manager said, “I don’t want such a creature staying in our hotel either.”
The clerk asked to be shown the photo again.
“Yes, I remember him, seen him around,” the clerk stared at the ceiling for a few moments and then said, “Travis Boone, yes that was his name,” the clerk replied.
“He checked in under his real name?” Clara said in disbelief. The clerk raised a brow at her.
“There must be thousands and thousands of Travis Boone’s in the United States. Would you put a red flag for that name across the whole country?” Frank said.
“Frank, we are not the NSA!” Clara whispered in Frank’s ear.
“Room #605,” clerk said, “but I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”
“How come you remember this particular individual with so many guests around?” Frank asked.
“This man has good memory,” the manager said, “we don’t hire the front desk staff otherwise.”
“That too, but just yesterday morning he asked me about the nearby cafés with free wireless,” the clerk smiled.
“Take me to his room,” Frank said.
The clerk looked at the manager who nodded in approval. Frank and Clara followed the clerk to the elevator bank and they went up to the sixth floor.
“Go out and see if he is in the hallway,” Frank told the clerk.
The clerk stepped out and looked both ways but saw no one and indicated for them to follow.
The clerk walked down the hallway and stopped in front of Room 605 and took out his master key but Frank snatched it from his hand.
“Stand back, you two,” Frank said. He took out his pistol, entered the key card in the door, then gripped the door handle with his left hand while aiming the pistol with his right. Suddenly, he pushed open the door and pointed his pistol inside the room. The room was unlit, but there was still light coming from outside the curtains. He saw no one.
Frank looked around with his pistol drawn but found no one. He did a quick search of the room but there was no sign that anyone had even been around recently. Only the items and accoutrements provided by the hotel as courtesy were in the room. Frank got out and closed the door behind him.
“Don’t let anyone in that room. I am going to call in my crime scene folks to do fingerprinting and such,” Frank said.
“You said it will be just you,” the clerk replied.
“They will be dressed in civilian clothes. Tell your manager,” Frank said, “I am going to drop the lady off to her room.”
The clerk took his master key and returned to the elevators. Frank and Clara took stairs to the seventh floor.
“Just Clara will do, Frank,” she said then asked, “you don’t expect to find anything in the room, do you?”
“Nope, otherwise I would have searched it thoroughly myself first,” Frank said, “he would have cleaned out all of his traces before he left.”
Frank and Clara entered her room. The porter had already brought her luggage inside. She walked over to the dressing table and poured herself a cold glass of water from a jug filled with ice.
“When is your team coming?” Frank asked.
“What team?” Clara turned around startled.
“Don’t tell me the director sent you alone,” Frank said, “he should have sent at least four bodyguards with you. Paramilitary operatives to protect you from Panther.”
“I can handle myself. Besides I have you and your partner,” she grinned, “don’t tell me you think you need additional help.”
“He ran from me. If I face him down again I will cook his goose,” Frank said, “are you afraid that he will come back to this hotel again?”
“No,” Clara said, “it will solve my problem…our problem rather easily if he does.�
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“Are you packing heat?” Frank asked.
Clara hesitated then unzipped her red leather jacket to reveal a holster on her left side with a pistol in it over a black t-shirt.
“You are not federal law enforcement,” Frank said scratching his chin, “but I don’t want to leave you defenseless.” He took out his wallet and handed Clara his official card, “if any police officer asks you about it, tell them to call me.”
Frank took her leave and started to walk back. He had opened the door and just taken a step out when Clara called after him.
“Frank, what was the third piece of evidence?” she asked.
“The wha…” Frank turned back in confused.
“You said you didn’t go to trial unless you had three solid proofs,” Clara said, “the college student eyewitness, the ballistics match of the bullets from the crime scene with those Panther fired and what was the third?”
“I guess I was thinking about his blood drops…” Frank shrugged.
“No you weren’t, Detective Frank. You said you didn’t care much for DNA evidence from micro samples,” Clara said, “You mentioned a sketch.”
Frank realized that he had been careless speaking with her. She was a sharp cookie as could be expected from an intelligence analyst trained to detect discrepancies and anomalies. This was probably her routine in her everyday job.
“You showed me his photo,” Frank attempted damage control.
“This morning I did,” Clara replied, “but you didn’t recognize him when I said Travis Boone; you would have if you had seen any file on him. Yet you knew his face and his infamous alias. But I don’t think you would have circulated a sketch drawn from the description provided by a drunk driver or recognized him yourself.”
“You are reading too much into my words,” Frank said.
“Contrary, detective, you knew who he was on Monday morning when you approached Scott asking for his file or you had suspected at least. You didn’t track the drunk driver – the only eyewitness to have seen the killer’s face till Monday evening where you ran into Panther,” Clara sat down on the bed and folded her hands, “you are violating your own superintendent’s orders to cooperate fully with me by withholding clues.”
Frank sighed. He had been caught. Her argument was based on airtight logic. In the normal course of investigation he should have had no way of knowing or even guessing at the killer’s identity. But he needed to decide if he was going to let her in on the secret or he had to think of some subterfuge to throw her off track. Either way he needed time to think.
“Alright fine,” Frank said, “I will tell you tomorrow. Don’t go out of your room till me and Joe come to pick you up tomorrow morning.”
That seemed to satisfy Clara and she nodded her head. Frank said goodbye and left her room. He kept his hand on his pistol and watched his back and his flanks till he had returned to his car.
CHAPTER 11
Wednesday, Day 7
The next day Frank called Friedrich Brandt from his car in the coffee shop’s parking lot while Joe was picking up their breakfast. The polar vortex had made this another chilly day but the temperatures had started rising and already reached in mid-teens.
“I am coming to meet you today and I am going to need some more memories from Adam’s brain,” Frank said.
“You took my key,” Friedrich said.
“Don’t tell me you don’t have a duplicate,” Frank said.
“I do, but you are going to have to let me explore his brain more,” Friedrich replied, “it can’t be done on the spot just when you are here. This takes time.”
“Start right away then,” Frank said, “find something related to his past, his trucking days. Anything that provides a clue as to who would want him dead and why.”
“Will do, Frank,” Friedrich said, “My pleasure to be an assistant detective to you.”
Frank ended the call and stared through the windshield. What a team he had now: Joe, a CIA agent and a Neuroscientist. All he had to do now was open up a private investigator shop…
Joe returned with a large ice coffee which he handed to Frank, an egg sandwich and a couple donuts for himself along with an extra box.
“I don’t know how you drink that iced in this winter?” Joe said getting in.
“Can’t do without it,” Frank replied relishing the sweet, frosty taste of coffee in his mouth and felt more cylinders in his brains starting to fire up. His brain did not fully function till he had his daily lot of ice coffee. He wondered what Friedrich would say about that?
“Boy inside was nice, threw in a free box of a dozen mini donuts,” Joe said.
“Do care to share,” Frank said.
“Frank, when would I not share with you?” Joe laughed.
“Not me,” Frank said, “with Clara.”
“Then you have decided to take the girl to Err Friedrich?” Joe asked.
“It’s Herr,” Frank replied, “she suspects something is up. That we are hiding something from her.”
“Would she keep it a secret?” Joe asked.
Frank started the car and pulled it on the road.
“I believe she will. If she doesn’t, who will believe her?” Frank said, “Me, you and Friedrich will deny it and everyone will laugh at her.”
“Your call,” Joe said.
“I am going with my instinct,” Frank said, “worse would be if we keep it a secret but she finds out anyhow. She had no team with her which I find strange; could be her team is staying in the shadows and watching.”
Joe turned his head to look out the rear and side windows.
“Think we are being followed and watched by the CIA?” Joe asked.
“I doubt it. I know how to spot a tail, but they are good,” Frank said, “I could miss it. That’s why I rather take her in confidence.”
They reached Clara’s hotel in fifteen minutes. Frank and Joe walked in carefully with their hands on their pistols. They had just crossed the lobby and were headed towards the elevators when Frank spotted Clara sitting and eating in a small side lounge with self serve breakfast. Frank quickly trotted towards her.
“I told you not to leave your room till we arrived,” Frank said.
“I went looking for Travis. I didn’t find him,” she said nonchalantly taking a sip of her coffee.
“That is crazy,” Frank said.
“I think you were right. He isn’t coming back here,” Clara said, “aren’t you early?”
“We had brought breakfast for you to have in the car,” Frank pointed to the box in Joe’s hand, “Joe was generous enough to share with you.”
Clara looked at the box and burst out laughing. She raised her fingers to cover her mouth while still giggling, “I don’t eat that. Joe you are welcome to all of it.”
Clara finished her coffee but didn’t bother with the leftovers in her plate. She followed Frank and Joe back to their car and they drove out.
They reached the offices of Friedrich’s company well before 9 AM and the parking lot and the lobby were still mostly vacant. There was a different security guard at the desk this time but Friedrich had left a message to him that police would be coming to meet him on a personal matter.
“What are we doing here?” Clara asked looking around at the posters hung up along the wall, “is this like a private DNA lab?”
“No, a Pharma company,” Frank said leading them up the stairs and down the hallway to Friedrich’s office, “you wanted to know about my third piece of evidence. I am going to show you.”
Frank stopped just before the door of Friedrich’s lab and turned around to face Clara.
“I have to swear you to secrecy,” Frank said to her.
“Sure Frank, I respect the confidentiality of your case and this is second nature to me,” she said.
“This is different. No one can know, not even your director,” Frank said.
“Just what is it…” Clara asked.
“You swear?”
“I do.
You believe me?”
“I do because no one will if you tell them,” Frank grinned, “we found a brilliant neuroscientist who is trying to replay memories out of the victim’s brain. I saw Panther’s face in one of those visuals.”
Clara burst out laughing and she pushed at Frank’s chest playfully with her fist.
“Get out of here,” she said, “you two are pulling a prank on me. You will tell your whole office. Joe, are you in on it too?”
“Frank is right,” Joe replied, “I would not have believed it myself if I hadn’t seen it.”
Frank turned around and pushed open the door which Friedrich had left unlocked. Friedrich had already setup Adam’s brain in the freezer with electrodes and wires connected to his devices and the computer. He was flipping through the pages of a thick folder when they walked in.
“Welcome back Detective Frank, Corpora…I mean, Deputy Joe,” Friedrich smiled, “I have interesting new scenes for your case. Who is the lady?”
“Who are you?” Clara asked in reply.
“I am Friedrich Brandt and this is my office, madam. Now have you been told what we are doing?”
“You actually have the brain connected to the computer!” Clara exclaimed walking over to observe the whole contraption with Adam’s brain in it.
“I told you,” Frank said.
“I still can’t believe it’s not an elaborate setup,” she replied.
“Friedrich, play her the visuals we watched last time,” Frank said.
“With pleasure,” Friedrich replied with a sly smile.
He walked over to the computer and played back the video he had extracted and they had watched earlier – all the scenes from the gunshot to the face of Panther.
Clara watched with her fingers on her wide open mouth and when she saw Panther’s face, she squealed in horror and looked alternatively at Frank and Friedrich.
“I can’t believe this is real! I can’t believe this,” she said.
“It is, Madam Clara,” Friedrich replied.
“Just Clara please,” she said, “Frank, you don’t intend to use this?”