Robert Walker - Fatal Instinct

“ About the time the Claw came on the scene,” said Emmons' partner, Dave Turner. “We think-”

Rychman put up a hand and said, “How old is this man?”

Louise Emmons checked her notes. “Thirty… thirty… thirty something… thirty-four.”

“ Been incarcerated most of his adult life,” said Rychman, looking to see everyone's reaction. “Got to be a lot of anger and hostility toward society in this guy. Is he white, black, Hispanic, what?”

“ Caucasian,” said Emmons.

“ Lives with a common-law wife,” added Turner. “They live very close to the bone.”

Some of the others began to heckle, calling on Rychman to reconsider their choices. Rychman banged his fist on the podium. “Call this bastard's parole officer. See how many of his terms he's already violated… see if any of those terms prohibit him from work using anything like a hammer. Let's see just how lucky we can get here. Also see what came of the call that had him lurking in that alleyway. Did he talk his way free, or did he go before a judge?”

Emmons had taken to jotting down his requests, but she stopped now to say, “He was just rousted. Cops found him roosting between some trash cans, like he was just waiting for a victim to come along.”

“ What's his name?”

“ Conrad Shaw.”

“ Shaw… claw,” said one of the other detectives. “Least it rhymes.”

“ Press'11 like that.”

“ Let's drag his ass in, put the screws to him,” suggested another.

“ Check it out, like I said, and if we learn any more, we'll go for it. But so far, my vote goes with Shaw.” Rychman settled in.

He glanced over his shoulder at Lou, whose nod seemed to place a final stamp of approval on the discussion.

“ Now, as for you other stiffs who have favorites. Don't abandon them. In fact, pursue them like before, even more relentlessly. If you think you can do something to strike this guy or that off your list, if you can make him show his true colors, do so. We've got to work fast and carefully at the same time.”

He turned to the map of the city behind him and told them the red pins represented the areas in the city where the maniac had struck. Thus far, they had no witnesses and every victim was dead. No one escaped this guy.

“ Geographically we have no pattern. The only pattern we have,” said Rychman, “is the M.O., how this pervert operates. So we'll be examining this from every angle very closely, and we will be examining the forensics evidence thoroughly. I've already got some ideas along those lines. As for now, we have a cannibal on our streets, a human predator, and he will… eat again.” He came from behind the podium.

“ That's all for this morning,” Rychman said. “Remember, every day, here nine and six, no matter your shift or other duties. The task force is cleared as your number-one priority.”

People began to file out. It was ten-twenty A.M.

It was late in the day, nearly five, and dark clouds had converged over the city, turning the sky and the area all around Police Plaza One into a grim, dismal, charcoal painting. Rain threatened and in the distance the rumble of thunder gave everyone a catlike sixth sense of impending danger while radio and TV announcers called for a besotted and blackened city. Everyone paused over their work, some staring out at the coming storm.

Rychman was going between offices when he saw Jessica Coran coming down the hall. He went to greet her.

“ All finished for the day?” he asked.

“ Pretty much, yeah. I was about to call a cab, try to beat the storm.”

“ Don't. I'll have Lou send a radio car around for you. You know your way to the garage?”

“ I passed a sign for it, yeah.”

“ So what do you think of Luther Darius' operation?”

“ Excellent lab, terrified people.”

“ Terrified?”

“ Nervous, let's say. Course I haven't met Darius himself yet.”

“ Yeah, I understand he's under doctor's care.”

“ A euphemism for what?” she asked pointedly.

Rychman shrugged, his eyes alert. “Just talk… Some say he has Parkinson's, others say it's cancer. Some say he has both.”

“ Poor man. I didn't know.” She thought momentarily of the debilitating disease that had claimed her father, made him a prisoner within his own body. “Think I'd rather go quickly and cleanly.”

“ Agreed. Luther's lab people are extremely loyal to him,” he confided. “They weren't likely to discuss his condition, I'm sure, but his problems have had an ill effect on the lab. Reports aren't as timely or complete as they once were, mistakes have been made with the handling of evidence. You know how that looks. I don't suppose his people would have revealed a thing about that, either, so… Oh, and here's the report on the Hamner woman.”

“ So my dealings will almost certainly be with Dr. Archer,” she replied, taking the report and watching for his reaction.

“ You could do worse,” he said. “Perkins, for instance.”

“ Yeah, I heard about Perkins quitting.”

“ Quitting? He actually quit?”

“ I thought you were about to tell me!”

“ I was just going to tell you he was an asshole.”

“ From what I've heard of him, I'd have to agree. Lou tells me you slammed him into a wall at the crime scene? Sounds like clever crime scene tactics, a boys' fight over the corpse? Really… I'm sure the integrity of the evidence-gathering wasn't compromised.”

“ You certainly have a way with sarcasm, Doctor.”

“ I was reared on it, sorry. Well, I'd best run. I didn't bring an umbrella.”

“ Lou,” he shouted suddenly, spying Pierce. “See to it someone gets Dr. Coran back to where she's staying.”

Pierce shouted back, “You got it. Captain.”

“ Just wander down to the garage. Someone'11 be along in a moment.”

People with papers in their hands were streaming by them in the hallway, some trying to get his attention. He continued to stare at her until he said, “Your examination of the Hamner woman? Did it tell you anything I should know?”

“ Nothing new, no… sorry.”

“ Well… keep me informed.”

“ What about an arrest? Has your task force come up with any suggestions?”

“ Several, but we took the mayor's advice and arrested only one. Shaw the Claw, they're calling him. Detaining him on charges other than murder at this point, but letting it be known that he is suspected of the killings. Press is doing as expected, eating it up.”

“ That should cool the brew a bit. Later, then, Captain.”

“ Right, later.”

He turned and hurried fullback fashion to the confines of his new office, Jessica staring after, watching him go and wondering what had changed their relationship so drastically. Had it to do with her being on his side against the C.P. and the mayor? Adversity made for strange bedfellows. As for her, when she had read about his troubled divorce, she'd come to realize why he posed as such a hard-ass. She sensed that deep below the surface he was repressing a great deal of pain and grief.

Her ankles throbbed and twitched, a nervous reaction that she'd come to know as a sign that she'd been standing too damned long. She found the police garage where a young, aggressive reporter had somehow penetrated the barricades, and now rushed up to her and said, “You're with the FBI, aren't you?”

“ And who are you?”

“ I'm with the Times, and I'm just interested in you. I understand you're the agent who ended the career of that crazy guy in Chicago who thought he was a vampire?”

“ I was one of a team, Mr. ahh…”

“ Drake, Jim Drake.”

She recognized his name from the byline accompanying the twisted-knife story on Rychman. “I'd like you to stand away from me,” she said firmly.