Robert Walker - Final Edge

A little corner of her brain also told her she could be misconstrued as being close to Meredyth Sanger-a girlfriend! She could be killed next because of a wrongful perception, the victim of Lauralie Blodgett's semi-random, somewhat predictable violence. But then so could Lucas; in fact, Lucas presented a large and looming target. She wondered if he'd given any thought to the threat hovering over him, that he, more than anyone else in the Ripper's viewfinder, represented Meredyth's present and future happiness and pleasure.

Jana secretly loved Lucas and would willingly die for him; she wondered if he'd take her seriously if she offered to stand bodyguard over him. Not likely. Not likely he would allow it. The macho shit-head.

"What now?" asked one of her men as they were exiting the house with the single box of confiscated pornography.

Neighbors on each side of the apartment and from across the street had gathered, watching and wondering. Jana North pointed to the small gathering of housewives and retired folk and said to her man, "You and the others, fan out, and let's start interviewing. You know what to ask about. We got his vehicle info from papers found inside, and we've got his personal phone book. What we need are eyewitnesses to her comings and goings here."

Jana gave a fleeting thought to Lucas's tying her up like one of the women in Belkvin's bondage book. How she would enjoy being at the Cherokee's complete mercy.

"Damm it, North, get a grip," she muttered.

"What's that, Detective?" asked Merrick.

"Nothing…not a thing."

"I really am sorry nothing useful was found; despite my cynicism, I truly wanted this to go your way. From what I've read and seen of reports on this case, and what I've learned from my sources in police circles and forensics, this is one sick mother fucking little momma you guys are chasing."

"You know, Merrick, you aren't a half-bad-looking guy when you're not being so damn cynical."

"Really? Perhaps I ought to lighten up a bit, if it makes me more attractive to someone as attractive as you."

This got her attention, and she looked more closely at his eyes-good, strong, clear, moist icy-blue eyes. "Why, thank you, Merrick."

"Why don't you call me by my first name."

"I will if you will."

Across town, Lucas and Meredyth took the warrant from Harry Jorganson's outstretched hand as if it were a baton in a footrace. Jorganson held back, wishing them good luck as they entered the Bright Day Animal Clinic. Dr. Arthur D. Belkvin's name was emblazoned on the sign below the clinic's name. Lucas and Meredyth held high but tempered expectations of finding evidence to prove this was the location of Mira Lourdes's murder.

Earlier, as they raced to the location, Lucas had confided, "Where else would he do her but at the site where the tools are readily available, his own cozy operating room in his own clinic? Where else would he feel safe to perform his deadly operations than in surroundings so familiar?'

"Perform is the right word, if he did it for Lauralie."

Inside, they found a blocky small building reminiscent of someone's basement, a small waiting room area scrunched against the reception desk, and a door leading to the rear, where two separate rooms for examinations and operations stood like barriers to the kennel in the rear.

"You hear that?" asked Lucas as they looked around, flashing their badges for Ms. Jones.

"What? I don't hear nothing," said MariLouise Jones.

"That's just it, a silent kennel."

"Oh, well…no, we haven't been operating so well since Dr. B's been gone."

A quick scan of the place revealed a storage room off the kennels, where the metal cages stood empty of occupants. It was a crowded little area, hardly worthy of the name kennel-a holding place for sick animals. The odors pinched Lucas's nerves.

However, the place was neat, tidy, and clean-too well cleaned, Lucas thought. If they were going to find evidence, it would be masked, he thought. Then he realized there was a gaping space in one of the examination rooms where once a steel table most assuredly had stood bolted to the concrete floor. "What's not in this room?" he asked Ms. Jones.

Ms. MariLouise Jones, a slender black woman with a pompadour hairdo and manicured nails painted red, stiffened at the question before answering. "Dr. Belkvin…he had to cut back on his practice sharply in the last few weeks, and he…he tol' me he had da sell one of his operating tables."

"Anything else sold recently?" pressed Lucas.

"I noticed some of his older surgical tools gone one day."

"Recently?" asked Meredyth.

"Yeah, recently."

"Would those tools include a scalpel and a rotary bone saw?" asked Lucas.

"Am I in some kinna trouble here?" she asked where she stood between the two strangers interrogating her. "Do I need a lawyer?"

Lucas bit his lower lip and instantly pulled out his cell phone, moving back toward the front of the clinic. Stepping just outside, out of earshot of Ms. Jones, he dialed. His call was to Leonard Chang's crime lab. Kelton, standing by here with a handful of other uniformed cops, had assured him that Chang was on standby alert.

In a moment, Chang came on. "Leonard, it's me. Get a team and a photographer over here pronto, preferably Steve Perelli. We may have something here."

'Terrific, then you like this guy for the mutilation murder, Lucas?"

"I like him mightily for it, yeah."

"The bastard chopped her up at his clinic, didn't he?"

"I'd bet my eyeteeth on it. Get this, not only has he wiped the place clean, he's ripped out one of two operating tables from the clinic and has stashed a lot of his tools, hopefully being unearthed at his house by now." Lucas gave a thought to Jana North's progress across town.

"Unreal. Don't worry, Lucas, my boys and girls, we'll find the nails to drive into these vampires' coffins. What a monster these two are together. We've got to get them off the streets."

"I have every confidence in us doing just that, Leonard."

"Wish everybody else did."

Lucas wondered how much flack Chang was being bombarded with. "FBI making a move on us, Leonard?"

"They're in Lincoln's office as we speak."

"Then you'd best be-"

"On our way."

Lucas returned to where Meredyth had continued to get a feel for Arthur Belkvin from his receptionist/secretary.

"Have you any pictures of Dr. Belkvin?" Meredyth was asking Jones when Lucas came alongside her.

"There's a lotta photos on the wall in here." Jones guided them to another operating room, one door littered with photos of Dr. Belkvin standing, crouching, leaning in various poses with dogs, cats, birds, ferrets, rabbits, even a monkey or two, sometimes with the owners, their arms thrown over Dr. Belkvin's shoulder.

"Doesn't look at all like your typical flip-out killer, Mere. All these people to interact with in positive ways. Holding down two good jobs-careers actually. No profiler would put this guy together with this crime."

"Agreed, but he's our man just the same, whether he fits or not." Meredyth found the best facial shot available and said, "We'll need this one, Ms. Jones, in our search for your boss."

'^To find him or to shoot him down? I called Missing Persons 'cause he's missing, but you come in here turning him into some kind of bloodthirsty murderer-askin' don't I think he looks like the man on the news and on the front pages."

"Ms. Jones, we want to find him and question him, as much for his safety as that of others," Meredyth assured her.

Losing patience, Lucas bluntly asked, "Was he acting strangely, other than selling off his table and tools, that is?"

"He seemed agitated, yes…like he was in some kinna trouble. But, you see, he's a reformed gambler and, well…"

"Goes to the Gulf for the action there?" asked Lucas.