Robert Walker - Fatal Instinct

When she had arrived at the airport at Quantico there was faithful J.T. to take full charge of the Emmons body, seeing to its final transportation to the morgue. And as ever, J.T. was full of questions, starting with, “I don't get it, Jess. Why're we examining a body the New York people have already des-ignated as the work of this nut case Helfer? You want to fill me in?”

“ Just treat Emmons as a murder victim, J.T., and run every test we have on her. I mean every damned test, and no shortcuts.”

“ All right, but you'd better know up front-”

“ What?”

“ O'Rourke doesn't like it.”

“ What doesn't she like?”

“ Carting the body here like this, pulling it from this guy Archer's jurisdiction. Says… thinks it's not good form, that sort of thing. Says we've got to respect and cooperate with the local officials for times when we really need them, all that crap.”

She could not hide her exasperation with O'Rourke. “I suppose she wants to see me on the double?”

“ You must be psychic.”

She frowned. “First she gives Matisak carte blanche with the information on my case, has that filthy creep telling me long-distance how to investigate it, and now she's questioning decisions of mine of a forensics nature? You know what she wants, don't you, J.T.?”

“ If I didn't know better, I'd say she wants your ass in a can, Doctor.”

“ Great being home, J.T., and it's great to talk to someone who's going to be straight with me.”

“ It's great having you home, Jess.”

Their relationship had grown over the years of their association and had solidified with the Matisak vampire-stalker case. Her cane was a constant reminder to both her and J.T. of how close she had come to being killed by Matisak, but there was something else she remembered when around J.T., and that was her old confidence in her deft abilities. J. T fanned the flame of her positive self-image. He was a good friend.

“ O'Rourke thinks she'll cut me loose and that she can more easily control you, John,” she told him. “You know that, don't you?”

They stared at one another there on the tarmac, the sound of aircraft near deafening.

“ I'll see to the body now,” he said without another word, and as she watched him go toward the open cargo bay and the box within, she wondered if J.T. had changed. It shouldn't come as any surprise, not with O'Rourke's keen manipulations. O'Rourke was very happy playing queen to Chief Bill Leamy's king on the FBI chessboard. She'd been made chief of the psychological profiling unit which had been built from the ground floor by Otto Boutine, and to which Jessica and J.T. belonged.

She went straight from the airport to O'Rourke's office. O'Rourke was a strong woman, firm and sure of herself, always dressed to kill, and she had worked her way up through the ranks to get where she was, but her affair with Bill Leamy hadn't hurt, either. Otto had had great respect for O'Rourke's ability at crime detection and, in particular, psychological profiling-her avenue up the rungs of the FBI ladder.

Their meeting was brief and predictable. O'Rourke was sorely upset. She'd gotten a call from the chief medical examiner of New York City, a Dr. Archer, who felt his entire staff had been maligned by Agent Coran, and that the unnecessary removal of Louise Emmons' body was the final straw. “Archer feels you're out to ruin his reputation in the forensics community, that you bear him some personal animosity, something to do with Dr. Darius' being made some kind of god in your eyes to which no one could possibly measure up; said the entire time you two worked together, you were second-guessing his every finding.”

“ Somebody had to.”

“ Is that all you've got to say?”

“ Why're you so concerned about Archer's feelings?”

“ It's quite simple, Dr. Coran. We will need New York someday in the future, and cooperation between our agencies has to be optimal. You, of all people, should know that.”

Jessica realized that the conversation was being taped, that everything she said was on the record and that her boss was now amassing her own evidence to prove Jessica incompetent and unable to continue in her present position, that her psychological problems were overtaking her.

Something must have shown in her eyes, because O'Rourke, staring coldly at her, said, “You know, Jessica, we're all concerned about you. The FBI family wants only what's best for you, and I, personally, care only to see that we do what's best for you.”

“ Yes, I realized that when you sent me to Philadelphia that first time, to see Matisak… to see the bastard alive and well fed and biding his time. Yes, Theresa… Chief… I've always known that you took my… my problems… as seriously as I.”

“ Are you still seeing Dr. Lemonte?”

“ No… not professionally, but thank you for asking,” she lied.

“ Then you are feeling… emotionally stronger? Good.”

“ I'm so glad that you can see that.”

“ And your… physical impairment? How is that doing?”

She held up the cane. “It's not going to go away, if that's what you mean, but it hasn't kept me from doing my job.”

“ Of course not.”

“ And another thing, Theresa.” Her voice like acid, Jessica was emphasizing her words with a tongue that flicked across her upper lip and disappeared. “You won't win against me; you won't take my job here. I'm too good at what I do.”

O'Rourke pointedly pressed the recorder attachment to her desk to off. Then she came around the desk and stood toe-to-toe with Jessica. “Dr. Archer telephoned Leamy when he finished with me, and-”

“ At your urging, no doubt.”

“ Archer didn't need any urging. Regardless of Archer, it's just this simple, Dr. Coran: you didn't get the collar in New York; you weren't involved in the manhunt to the extent you should have been. Very likely because you were too busy sleeping with Captain Rychman.”

Jessica's jaw stiffened but she refrained from saying another word or raising the hand that so wanted to slap O'Rourke.

“ You're not being credited with the end of the Claw case, Jessica, and you got Otto killed in Chicago. Facts like that have a way of haunting a person's career. Careers here rise and fall on the basis of one's most recent case, not yesterday's laurels. Fact of life here… what have you done for me lately, Dr. Coran? Then there's Matisak…”

“ Matisak?” Jessica's right hand quivered now with a power of its own. Had O'Rourke set her up from the beginning, anxious from the start to see her crumble under the physical and psychological strain of dealing with men like Sims and Matisak? O'Rourke had known from the beginning that Jessica believed O'Rourke's leadership was far inferior to Otto Boutine's as head of the division. It seemed a particularly nasty way to clean house, but then O'Rourke had proven nasty in the past, especially to other women whom she felt threatened by.

“ Yes, he claims you've failed to listen to him-”

“ I don't believe I'm hearing this.”

“- that you've been uncooperative and extremely rude, and-”

“ For Christ's sake, O'Rourke!”

“- and the fact you entered his cell with a gun hidden on your person, Dr. Coran. Very bad… very bad form. That alone-”

“ I deny it all! All the fucking crap that Gabriel Arnold, your penitentiary pimp, has told you. And his word will not hold up against mine! Now, I'm leaving before I actually do commit a punishable act.”

Jessica made it to the door but hadn't cleared it before hearing O'Rourke say, “Well, you have regained some of your old strength, dear, haven't you?”

Jessica had kept going, afraid if she did not clear the building, she'd return and knock O'Rourke on her ass.