Cody McFadyen - Shadow Man

He turns to face the camera, looking right into it. He smiles, nothing human or sane evident. "This one's for you, Smoky."

"Oh, man . . ." Leo moans.

I say nothing. Some part of me has shut down. I keep watching. Barnes looks off again. "Did I do good? The way you wanted?" I see his expression change. First puzzlement. Then fear. "What are you doing?"

When the gunshot comes, blowing his brains out, I jump up without meaning to, my chair falling behind me.

"Fuck!" Alan yells, just as startled.

I lean forward, gripping the sides of the desk, arms trembling. I know what's coming. It has to be. He wouldn't miss the opportunity. He doesn't disappoint. That hooded face is in front of the camera, eyes crinkling because of the grin we can't see. He gives us a big thumbs-up. The video ends.

Everyone is shocked and silent. Leo wipes his mouth. Sergeant Oldfield's hand has strayed to his weapon, an unconscious reflex. My mind feels like an empty, hollow place. Tumbleweeds blowing through it, pushed by the wind.

Getting a grip on myself is almost a literal thing. My voice is full of heat when I speak. Tight and smoking. "Back to work," I say.

They all look at me like I'm nuts.

"Come on!" I snap. "Pull it together, guys. This is just one more fucking distraction. He's messing with us. Get a grip, and get back to work. I'm going to call this Agent Jenkins." My voice sounds firm, but I'm still trembling.

It takes them a minute, then my words get through. They start moving. I pick up the phone, call the switchboard, and get them to dial me into the New York FBI headquarters, all on automatic. My head is spinning. When reception answers, I ask for Agent Jenkins. Surprise, surprise, he's in NCAVC Coord too. The phone rings, is picked up. "Special Agent Bob Jenkins."

"Hi, Bob. This is Smoky Barrett, from NCAVC Coord Los Angeles."

The normal tone of my voice surprises me. Hi, how are you, just watched a woman get eviscerated, what's new with you?

"Hi, Agent Barrett. I know who you are." His voice is curious. I would be too, if our roles were reversed. "What's up?"

I sit down. Take a breath. My heartbeat feels like it's coming back down to normal. "What can you tell me about Ronnie Barnes?"

"Barnes?" He sounds surprised. "Wow, that's an old one. About six months or so. Killed and mutilated five women. And I mean mutilated . To be honest, it was a grounder for us. Someone noticed a smell and reported it. Cops went into his apartment, found one of the dead women, and him with a self-inflicted hole in the head. Case closed."

"I have news for you, Bob. It wasn't self-inflicted."

A long pause. "Do tell."

I give him a synopsis of Jack Jr. and the package he'd just sent us. The video. When I'm done, he's quiet for a while.

"I think I've been doing this for about as long as you have, Smoky. You ever run across anything like this before?"

"Nope."

"Me neither." He sighs. It's a sigh I find I recognize. An acknowledgment that the monsters just continue to mutate, and seem to get worse every time. "Anything I can do?" he asks.

"Can you send me a copy of the case file on Barnes? I doubt anything's there. My guy is very, very careful. But . . ."

"Sure. Anything else?"

"Just one more thing. Out of curiosity. When did Barnes die?"

"Hold on." I hear him tapping on a keyboard. "Let's see . . . body was found November twenty-first. . . . Based on decomp and other factors, the ME estimates he died on the nineteenth."

I feel like the air has been sucked from my lungs. My hand on the phone is nerveless.

"Agent Barrett? You there?"

"Yes. Thanks for the help, Bob. I'll look for that file." My voice sounds far away to me, and mechanical. He doesn't seem to notice.

"I'll courier it out tomorrow."

We hang up, and I stare at the phone.

November 19.

I can't believe it.

While Ronnie Barnes was destroying that girl, Joseph Sands was destroying my life. That very night. Not just the same date a year or a decade later, but that very same day .

Was it a coincidence? Or was there some other meaning there, something I couldn't see?

T HE REST OFthe day passes like a dream. Callie has come back; Marilyn is fine. Sergeant Oldfield lets me know before leaving that there is no way he'll let Jack Jr. do to Marilyn what we saw Barnes do on that video. Everything is set up for the delivery of Jack Jr.'s package tomorrow. We continue to do what we do.

But I am wobbly as I drive toward Alan and Elaina's. I keep coming back to the coincidence of those dates. I feel like I've been put into a time warp. Knowing that as Ronnie Barnes was smiling at the camera, I was screaming, and Matt was dying. That as he put a knife to that poor woman's body, Joseph Sands was putting a knife to my face.

As it was happening, Jack Jr. was already hard at work. And he already knew about me .

This is perhaps the thing that rattles me the most. How long have I been on his mind? Is he going to be another Joseph Sands?

I'm afraid. I admit this to myself. I'm terrified.

"God damn you!" I scream, and pound a hand on the steering wheel, hard enough to numb my palm. My whole body is trembling. "That's better," I growl, even as I tremble. "Hold on to that, Smoky."

So I keep feeding that rage, making myself more and more angry at him for making me feel that fear.

It doesn't dispel the fear completely.

But it'll see me through the moment.

I HAD TAKENAlan and Elaina up on yesterday's offer of dinner. I needed some normality, and Elaina did not disappoint. She was looking better, closer to her old self. She got me to laugh more than once, and, most important, she drew multiple smiles from Bonnie. I could tell Bonnie was falling in love with her. I knew just how she felt.

Elaina is getting Bonnie ready to go home with me, and Alan and I are sitting together in the living room, waiting. It's a companionable silence.

"She seems to be doing good," I say.

He nods. "She's doing better. Bonnie's helped."

"I'm glad."

Bonnie bounds into the living room, ending the moment, with Elaina behind her. "You ready to go, honey?" I ask her. She gives a smile and a nod. I stand up, hug Alan, hug Elaina, give Elaina a kiss on the cheek.

"Alan told you we're starting early tomorrow?"

"He told me."

"It's going to be okay if I bring Bonnie by at seven?"

She smiles, reaches down, and ruffles Bonnie's hair. Bonnie looks back up at her, eyes adoring. "Of course it's okay." She kneels down.

"Give me a hug, honeybunch."

They exchange hugs and smiles and we head out the door.

"Go up to bed, honey," I tell Bonnie. "I'll be up in just a minute."

She nods her head and patters up the stairs. My phone rings.

"It's Leo."

"What's up?"

"Alan and I got the warrant for Annie King's subscriber list," he says.

"Didn't have a chance to tell you that before you left. I got in touch with the company. They were cooperative."

"So you have it?"

"I've been going over it for the last four hours. Just came up with something too."

"Tell me," I reply, hopeful.

"It turns out that your friend had a fairly extensive list of members. Nearly a thousand. I thought it would be worth a try to set the search parameters for names that relate to the whole Jack the Ripper scenario. You know, London, hell, that kind of thing."

"And?"

"I found it right away. Frederick Abberline. The name of the inspector who's most famous for hunting our old buddy Jack back then."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"Because I'm not done yet. Think about it. It's too obvious. They wouldn't give up a real address that easily. I checked it anyway. It's a post-office box."