Robert Walker - Final Edge

"As I said, my first duty, as I see it, is to determine how the Brodys died here, not how a half a decayed woman's body found its way through the door."

"I suggest you do precisely as Detective North and Captain Lincoln wish, Frank."

"North?"

"She's coming through the door with Lincoln as we speak. I have them in my sight. They'll want you to drop everything, Frank, to sort out the Lourdes woman's remains, as I do, Frank. Tell me, Frank, is it the entire rest of the woman or not?"

"It's all the rest of her."

"Thank God for that."

"Leonard, had you been here, you'd've done the same as I did. You'd've focused on the larger problem first- three bodies in the basement to process and bag, not to mention the walls we've had to cut through."

"Walls?"

"Blood-spatter evidence."

"Frank, photos would just as well suffice. The killer's not going on trial in her condition."

"Just being thorough, Leonard."

"You need me to look in, run interference with Lincoln?"

"No, everything's under control here."

Ten minutes later and Chang, looking through binoculars, saw Jana North pacing the Brody porch, waving her hands, and exchanging words with Captain Lincoln, who kept pace with her. Leonard thought it like watching a silent film without benefit of titles-frustrating. Still, the overall message was made clear when Lincoln suddenly took her by the arm, led her to his car, and they drove off, disappearing from view.

Chang sensed that neither Captain Lincoln nor the female lieutenant were happy with Frank Patterson or his decisions after actually viewing the final piece of divvied- up remains belonging to Mira Lourdes, and they'd likely had just as bad a reaction to dealing with Frank.

Leonard imagined the partial corpse in its indignant pose, dangling there in an airy, pastel-colored room, surrounded by teddy bears and other stuffed animals the teen had held onto, the ruffled curtains and bedspread, the walls no doubt graced with posters of Britney Spears, the Back Street Boys, and perhaps a poignant remnant of her younger years-say a painted wall sporting a character like Winnie the Poo and his thousand-acre wood. Candice Brody, unknown to Lauralie Blodgett, dead at thirteen, her room turned into a horror chamber.

Chang imagined the impact the scene must have had on Jana North, who by now had become so personally involved and familiar with Mira Lourdes's history, her nature, her life and loves, hobbies and preferences in music, eyeliner, clothing, and favorite TV stars and cartoon characters.

"All right, Frank," Chang said into his cell. "I'll be over soon. When I get there, I'd like whatever there is left of Mira Lourdes bagged and put away. That poor woman has told us all she's going to tell us, Frank."

"I'll do what I can when I can, Leonard. I'm only one person."

"Then use your people. Delegate. Get what's left of Mira Lourdes downtown now, and let's assemble her as best we can for burial or cremation…whatever the family wants. Let the family have some closure, Frank. Can you imagine the hell they've been put through?"

"Sure thing… absolutely."

Chang hung up, on the verge of losing his temper. The moment he hung up, his phone rang again.

It was Lincoln. "Thought I'd let you know, Chang, that business we discussed about Frank Patterson?"

"Yes?"

"I'm with you. The guy's a first-rate prick."

"Then you saw this morning's papers?"

"Yeah, I saw the papers, and I saw what was left of Mira Lourdes hanging from her decayed ankles in the little girl's bdroom. All this could be twisted to put Lucas and Meredyth in a bad light. Not only has the Chronicle identified them, but it makes my forensic psychiatrist and one of my best detectives appear somehow the cause of this nutcase's obsession-like as if their high profiles mean they asked for it or some such bullshit."

"And you think Patterson is-"

"Frank's sabotaged this investigation once too often, and the jerk upset Detective North to no end, so I pulled her outta the Brody place. Nothing more she and I can do here. We've decided to get back to Houston and zip over to the hospital. Get a firsthand look at Lucas, assess the situation there, give Meredyth our support, all that, you know."

"Sounds like a good move. Let's take care of the living."

"Yeah…yeah…" The unspoken words floated between them over the phone connection: If Lucas is still among the living. "So, Leonard, I leave the decision about Frank up to you. Me…the board, we're behind any decision you make regarding Frank Patterson."

"Thanks, Captain, but you know I don't need board approval or your okay to fire Frank."

'Technically, I know that, Leonard, but you'll want all the support you can muster when-if comes a time Frank should file a lawsuit for reinstatement or loss of pay and defamation of character-as if he had one."

"I appreciate your confidence and advice, Captain. I'm going over to the Brody home as soon as I can. Expect to close down all the crime scenes within one, one and a half hours."

"I'll need you at the five P.M. news conference, One Police Plaza downtown, since obviously, Leonard, you know more about what went down out at the lake than anyone else."

"Thanks, Gordon. I'll be there."

"With the answers?"

"Absolutely."

Lincoln waxed nostalgic for a moment. "Remember a time when crime was on the downswing, a time when we were young and optimistic, Leonard? A time when we thought we could win this war?"

Chang didn't know what to say. He let Lincoln continue. "Now so many crazies out there you gotta wonder if it's not something in the water or the preservatives in our food. So many people affected by this single madwoman."

Chang didn't know how to respond to this either, but he didn't have to. The next sound he heard was a dial tone.

Chang had left the upstairs bedroom and had stepped outside, where he now stood on the front porch, all doors standing open, technicians entering and exiting. He dialed Dr. Nielsen, and in a tired voice asked, "How is everything going down there? You able to finish up soon?"

"You see me in hip-deep water here, Dr. Chang? I'm working as fast as I can here."

Why was she so curt and annoyed, he wondered, guessing that the nature of the crime scene she was asked to handle would get to anyone. "I'll get back to you."

Chang hung up as Hoskins joined him. Ted Hoskins had drawn up a thumbnail map to help in his synopsis of precisely where Lucas had taken the first hit, falling into a stack of uncut six-foot logs and crawling below a big green John Deere tractor. A few feet farther off to the right, he took a second hit as he appeared to have left the ground, diving for cover below the stable canopy. "The blood trail and his barefoot prints tell the story. Picked up a female track as well, presumably Dr. Sanger's. She was with him at the end," said Hoskins.

"What end? He's not dead yet."

Hoskins apologized. "I meant the end of the ordeal."

"Sorry. What else do you have, Ted?"

Inside the stable, the blood told the story of his preparing the horses. Hoskins then showed where Lucas had finally fallen, where Meredyth had held him wrapped in the blanket. "Preliminary reports from the paramedics said that Lucas would have bled to death had she not jammed that super-gauze bandage into the exit wound at his back. There would not have been any use for the mede- vac chopper."

Chang and Nielsen had been nearby at the Longhorn Inn after having spent hours at the M amp;M Cafe in an attempt to link four murders there to Lauralie Blodgett. No one aside from Lauralie Blodgett had known that just down the road Lucas and Meredyth vacationed in relative calm. For this reason-and the fact that Nielsen always slept to the monotone of a police radio, they'd arrived at Madera in time to see Lucas airlifted by the medevac helicopter. He'd seen Meredyth leap into the chopper alongside him, shouting at the medics to do something. That had been the last time he'd seen Lucas Stonecoat, and it pained Leonard Chang to have seen so virile a man carted off like an inert and deflated gunnysack. The man Leonard Chang most admired for strength, stature, courage, and sheer instinctive ability. It was like seeing the unarmed John Wayne gun downed by Bruce Dern in The Cowboys, a feel-ing of stark surprise and horror. If a guy the size and breadth of Lucas Stonecoat could be brought down…