William Bernhardt - Nemesis - The Final Case of Eliot Ness

“Is he still using that preservative?”

“It’s possible. And that could throw off all my estimates about time of death. Until further testing.”

“Anything else you can tell me?”

Pearce used his walking stick as a pointer. “Apparently he reads.”

Surrounding the gray bodily remains they had also found the usual assortment of tantalizing but ultimately unhelpful items: two burlap bags, a coat, a multicolored quilt, and the March 5 issue of Collier’s.

“I want someone to read every word of that magazine,” Ness said. “And then explain to me why the killer might have read it. Or left it behind.”

Merylo grimaced. “I’ll do it. But we won’t find anything.”

“Don’t quit before the job is done.”

“This killer is smart. And orderly. He wouldn’t leave anything that might be helpful.”

“Then why leave anything at all?”

“Because he’s playing with us. Giving us the horselaugh. He gets kicks out of that, like the alienist told us.” Merylo drew in his breath. “Because he knows we can’t catch him.”

Ness felt the words burrow into his brain. Because he knows we can’t catch him. He knows.

Momentarily distracted from the evidence, Ness heard shouts coming from the all-too-close crowd.

“When are you going to catch this madman?”

“Why aren’t you protecting us?”

“How many people are going to have to die before you do something?”

To the amazement of his colleagues, Ness turned toward the crowd, hands spread wide open. “We’re doing everything we possibly can.”

“You would’ve caught him long ago if he were killing people uptown!”

“No one cares about us!”

“He’s making you look like a fool!”

Ness turned away. “Do you hear them, Merylo? Do you hear what they’re saying?”

Merylo looked puzzled. “Who? The crowd?”

“They’re laughing at us. Just like the killer is. Everyone is laughing at us.”

“I don’t hear anything. No point in listening to that mob.”

“Get rid of them,” Ness said, under his breath. “Disperse the crowd. Miles away.”

“I’m not sure we have the right,” Zalewski said. “This is public property.”

“This is a crime scene. They’re interfering with an official investigation.”

“We’ll need a lot more men.”

“Then get them!” Ness snapped. “Get them now!”

Zalewski glanced at Merylo. Merylo nodded. “I’ll get right on it, sir.” He skittered away.

Ness approached Merylo, much too close, laying his hands on the man’s shoulders. “We have to do something, Merylo. We have to catch this killer.”

“We’ve been trying. We don’t have anything. Our best suspect got away.”

“We have to find someone else. We have to end this.”

“I agree. But how? He owns this neighborhood. It’s his own private hunting ground.”

All at once, the words flashed through Ness’s memory like a branding iron on flesh. Man is the most dangerous game. And these are the killing fields.

“That’s it,” Ness murmured under his breath. “That’s the answer.”

“What?” Merylo said, his face contorted. “What are you talking about?”

“He was giving us a clue.”

“Are you feeling all right? I think maybe you need some rest. Get some shut-eye. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Ness pushed away from him. “No. We have a busy night ahead, Detective.”

“Doing what?”

“We need more men. Lots more. Forget about the crowd. Call everyone you know at the department. I’ll call my people. Maybe we can even get some loaners from the fire department.”

“To do what?”

“It’s simple, Merylo. Why didn’t I see it before? If we can’t catch the killer, we’ll remove his prey.”

“And how are we going to do that?”

“By taking Shantytown away from him.”

“Are you kidding? Do you know how many people are living out there? They’ll never agree to move.”

Ness peered straight ahead, his eyes fixed and glassy. “We won’t give them a choice.”

Ness stood in the midst of the assembled officers and volunteers at the top of the Eagle Street ramp, just on the edge of Shantytown. It was a pitch-black night, but from their vantage point they could still see the sprawling hobo village stretching out in the distance. Ness had managed to assemble twenty-five detectives and uniformed police officers. Several firemen and a fire truck. They were armed with clubs, guns, flashlights, hammers. Ness was carrying an axe handle, the same implement he had used to break down the doors of speakeasies and hooch warehouses. They were all hanging on his every word, ready to implement his instructions on his command.

“McDonald. I want you to take your men to the hill at the junction of Commercial and Canal. Stop anyone trying to slip out the back way.”

“Understood.”

“Go.” They did. “Marshall Granger?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want you to park your truck at the crest of the ramp. Shine an arc lamp down on Shantytown. I want to be able to see what we’re doing. I want to see everything.”

“Understood.”

“Good. Do it.”

He split the remaining men into groups, then divided Shantytown, giving each of them a piece. “I want everyone taken out for questioning, then removed. No one takes anything with them. I don’t want any evidence disappearing.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Consider this a military operation. An attack behind enemy lines. We miss nothing.”

“Yes, sir!” the men responded.

“And then,” Ness said quietly, “we make sure they never come back.”

Ness led his team down the ramp and into Shantytown. Almost no one was up and about this late at night. Ness was instantly assaulted by the pungent smell of cheap liquor, human waste, boiled chicken. It was like stomping through the sewer. He hated it, but he kept marching forward, scattering stray cats with almost every step, plunging deep into the twisted heap of cardboard boxes and canvas and corrugated metal.

Ness pounded the door of the first hovel he reached with his axe handle. “Police! Open up!”

There was no response, but Ness could hear movement inside.

“Open up! This is your last chance!”

Chamberlin laid a hand on his shoulder. “Boss, even if it’s made out of metal, it’s still a home. They have rights.”

Ness shrugged him away. “He’s a squatter, Bob. He’s not supposed to be here.”

“But-”

“We’re coming in!”

Ness battered away at the flimsy metal door. It didn’t take much to knock it down.

The men shone their flashlights inside. The squalor was shocking. Chicken bones on the ground, several days old. Almost a dozen empty booze bottles. It stank worse in here than it did outside.

In the rear, a grizzled old man cowered, trying to hide himself in blankets. “D-d-didn’t… do anything!”

“You’ll have to vacate immediately,” Ness said.

“I’m… not goin’ anywhere! I d-d-didn’t do anything!”

“You’re drunk. Drunk and disorderly. Haul him away, men!”

“No! This is my home!” Two of Ness’s officers stepped forward and grabbed the man’s arms. “I ain’t done nothin’ wrong!”

“We just want to talk to you.”

“Let me get my things!”

“No.

“This is all I got! All I got in the world!”

“Don’t make me arrest you. You’re a vagrant, and pursuant to Municipal Code section-”

“I got a job! Down at the factory. But I’ll lose it if they find out I’ve been arrested!”

“You’re just being taken in for questioning. Now go!”

“I-I don’t unnerstand. My stuff-”

“Believe me, this is for your own good.”