Robert Walker - Extreme Instinct

Finished here, Jessica said to Mrs. Crighten, "Thank you.. thank you… Now, how do I get to Salt Lake's largest TV station and newspaper office?"

Crighten called in her aide, telling the young woman to chauffeur Agent Coran to wherever she wished, when Crighten's phone rang.

Jessica and the aide were halfway out the door when Mrs. Crighten announced that the call was for Jessica. ''I think it's one of your people," she cheerily said, offering the phone to Jessica. "He says he has information for you alone, Dr. Coran."

Jessica took the phone and immediately recognized the voice of the killer at the other end as he said, "Satan, disguised as a one-eyed Minotaur, carried me on one hell of a journey until I could see down into an endless hole where flesh and fire, like wick and candle, were one."

"Dorphmann," she let his name fall on him like a bomb, "Feydor Dorphmann, we know now who you are and why you're driven to kill."

It was as if she were whistling in a wind tunnel; the surprise seemed to have no effect on Dorphmann as he continued speaking over her. "The journey kept me always on a downward spiral, and there were rungs on either side of the belly of this place, like they were made from Satan's ribs, you see…"

"Just as in Dante's Inferno," she suggested. "But Feydor, don't you see? If you turn yourself in now, I'll get help for you."

"Perhaps the historic Dante Alighieri in the 1300s was himself visited by Satan, because Satan wants us to praise him, you know, Dr. Coran. He wants us to never forget his presence. He must've made Dante's life a living hell like mine, turning his skin to boils and red rashes, making it impossible to live in his skin. He must've persuaded Dante to chronicle his domain, his dark kingdom. He's very good at persuasion techniques, you know, far superior to your FBI in that regard."

"You don't have to kill any more people, Feydor," she told him. "You've killed eight now by our count."

Jessica watched Crighten's face as it turned ashen grey with the realization that the killer was on the hospital line, her line. Feydor Dorphmann paused momentarily at her words but then continued, "He got Dante to sing the praises of Hades…"

"The two men you burned during your escape, two FBI agents, and a third you shot, Feydor. They've all died here at the hospital."

''But those killings were incidental, not part of the bargain."

"How do you know that? Satan works in mysterious ways, Feydor."

"They all must die by fire, all but one-you, Doctor… "

"But these men did die by fire."

"Two of them, yes."

"Then why not count Dr. Stuart Wetherbine, Feydor? You torched his body, remember? And he was trying to help you, remember?"

This silenced Feydor momentarily. "Then you do know all about me. Good, Doctor… very good. Now you will come for me all the more."

"What about it, Feydor? What about Wetherbine in San Francisco and the two agents you burned to death here in Salt Lake? It means you can be finished with your work, whatever contract you made with… with Satan that much sooner, Feydor."

"Perhaps… perhaps…"

She prayed he was considering the possibility she held out to him.

He coldly said, "I'll have to wait, see what he says about all this."

"Feydor, every FBI agent in the territory, every cop with a gun is now going to shoot to kill, knowing you killed three of their own. The stakes have gone up, Dorphmann. We not only know who you are, Feydor, but we know your shoe size and preference, we have your fingerprints and likeness, and it will appear in every newspaper and on every television screen across this country. There's no place you can hide now."

"Don't waste your breath, Dr. Coran. I've had assurances none of that will matter once I've finished with you."

"Even if you succeed, Feydor, in killing me, number nine, there'll be no place for you to hide."

"Satan will provide. He's already removed my fingerprints and my hair, and he's working on my bone structure, my height, weight, skin color. You see, it's all part of the deal."

How do you bargain with a madman? she wondered. "Give yourself up, give yourself up to me this moment. Tell me where you are and I'll come there personally to see no harm comes to you." It was a half-truth. If he invited her, she would see to it he was put out of his misery before he could fire-kill her.

"Harm? You have no idea how much harm I've already gone through, you foolish bitch. No, I won't be giving myself up. There's still work to do. Still, I do want you to come for me."

"Where and when?" she replied instantly, challenging him.

"Soon, soon now you will know."

She knew it was hopeless, but to encourage him, she added, "Read the morning papers, Feydor, then contact me again if you don't believe me. Will you do that, Feydor?"

"I told you! I have to talk to him.'"

"Where are you now?" she pleaded. "Are you still in the city?"

He cut her off.

Jessica looked up to see Mrs. Crighten staring at her with the frozen look of a statue, shaken at hearing just one side of Jessica's conversation with the killer. "I wouldn't have your job for all the money and prestige in this life," Mrs. Crighten finally said.

Jessica turned to the aide and said, "Let's go."

As Jessica was about to leave the hospital, J. T. located her and shouted for her to wait. She'd already gotten comfortable in the car and was about to depart from the parking garage. "Mrs. Crighten told me where I could find you, Jess. You're taking on too much alone again. Let me help you," he pleaded.

"You can help by being here when Warren Bishop recovers. He's going to need a familiar face at his bedside. Will you be there, John?"

He took in a deep breath. "Mrs. Crighten told me he called you at her office. How does this fiend find you, Jess? It's uncanny. It's almost as if-"

"As if what?"

"Nothing, never mind."

"You starting to think like Repasi, that we… the killer and I have some sort of link?''

"No, no… nothing like that, Jess."

"Then what? That there's some kind of supernatural psychic link at work? What?"

"I don't know."

"He's shrewd, smart, J. T. He knows we'd be at an area hospital; he goes the rounds with the yellow pages, just like you or me. That's all."

"Where'll you be, Jess?"

"Getting the story out. Talk to Crighten about it. We're going to spread the news that the Phantom has added three more kills to his kill list."

"Hey, I get it. Fill up his list for him and maybe no one else will be hurt on your account, right?"

She gritted her teeth before replying, "You really are beginning to sound like Karl."

"I think it's a brilliant stroke, Jess."

"Only if it works. Now, let me put it into motion."

"Have you cleared it with headquarters?"

"No, no, I haven't. Something like this, the fewer who know the real story, the better."

"All the same, if you want, I'll let Santiva in on the facts."

She nodded. "Yeah, do that. And J. T., thanks again."

"Where'll you be after you finish up with the news-people?"

"On to Jackson Hole with the others, it would appear."

"Gotcha. I'll join you there as soon as possible." The car pulled from the lot at Jessica's request. The car pulled upward on a slanting concrete hill and out into the predawn light of Salt Lake City. "Take me to the major TV stations first," she asked Crighten's aide, who yawned and apologized, saying she was not used to such crazy hours.

Jessica finished the rounds of TV and newspaper offices in Greater Salt Lake City and then said good-bye to Crighten's aide Sue Norris when the young woman dropped her off at Gallagher's nondescript FBI branch headquarters building. With Gallagher, Repasi, and that crew long ago off to Jackson Hole, Wyoming, a beautiful western town turned tourist haven nestled in Snake River Valley, amid the foothills of the Grand Tetons, Jessica freely acquired the fax forwarded to Salt Lake City headquarters from Eriq Santiva. As promised, she had every stitch of information they had on Feydor Dorphmann forwarded to the Salt Lake Herald. Returning to the Herald editors, she orchestrated the morning headline and layout of photo and computer-enhanced photo of the killer, alongside a sidebar carrying what Jessica and J. T had composed of the killer's cryptograms and the nine rungs of Hades in Dante's Inferno.