Tom Lowe - The 24th Letter

“He took it, or he took some of it. Alexandria was addicted to heroin and I think it was because Christian forced the poison into her. Did it enough and she was addicted.”

“I can’t believe you seriously think Christian hooked a supermodel on heroin.”

“Hooked her, sexually took advantage of her, and killed her.”

“Sean! Enough! I can’t allow you to ruin this man’s career on speculation.”

“Manerou was near Ocala silencing the last living witness that could tie him to Alexandria’s murder, the wife of the D.O.C. guard. The same guard that Manerou killed the day he murdered Spelling and Father Callahan.”

“No! I can’t believe this.”

“It’s true. If he hasn’t tossed it, look for a ski mask in his car. Go to his house. See if he owns an all black suit, something like a priest might wear. If it hasn’t been cleaned, see if there’s any blood, hair, or fibers that will tie him to the three vics he killed in one night last week. Also, pull some hair out of a brush, get his damn toothbrush. I don’t care what you use just get-”

“Sean-”

“Was Manerou in the service? The military?”

“Army, I believe. Why?”

“Check his records. See if he went to sniper school.”

“Why?”

“Only somebody with an expert rating could have shot Spelling like he did.”

“Sean, you need to-”

“The name-Manerou-what’s that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nationally!”

“Probably French or Greek. Why?”

“Where was Manerou born?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you at a computer?”

“Yes, why?”

“Go in the FBI’s bio on its agents. Wherever it is you people keep that and see where he was born.” O’Brien paced inside his boat. Max watched him.

There was an audible exhalation and she said, “Give me a minute.”

O’Brien could hear her fingernails hitting the keys, then a long moment of silence. Lauren’s voice dropped to above a whisper. “He was born in Greece. On the island of Patmos…that’s the same place you mentioned, Sean…oh my God…”

O’Brien called Detective Dan Grant. “Dan, FBI got a better read on part of the letter that Sam Spelling left behind. Spelling may have left the knife that killed Alexandria Cole at his mother’s house. Tranquility Trail, St. Augustine.”

“I’ll see if I can get a search warrant.”

“You don’t have time!”

“Judge Franklin will sign it. His house isn’t far from-”

“Dan, you don’t have time. An FBI agent, Christian Manerou, killed Alexandria. And he killed Sam Spelling, Johnson, Johnson’s wife, and Father Callahan. He knows Spelling’s mother’s address. You’re closer to St. Augustine than I am. Take back-up with you. Go!”

O’Brien called Tucker Houston. “Tucker, FBI managed to pull an address from the sheet of paper under the letter Sam Spelling wrote. It’s his mother’s address in St. Augustine. The knife is probably there.”

“Excellent, Sean! CNN is using Six’s studio to do a live interview with me. I’m getting Charlie William’s name across the nation. It’s now in the hands of the nine justices, or the Governor of Florida. “

“Listen Tucker. I believe an FBI agent, Christian Manerou, killed Alexandria Cole. He had a secret affair going on with her. I suspect he’d cut a deal with Russo. Once Manerou had access to her, he got her strung out on heroin, and when things

Lowe, Tom

The 24th Letter ((Mystery/Thriller)) became testy, he stabbed her and framed Charlie Williams. He’s gone on a killing spree eliminating anyone with a tie to his name.”

“Can you prove this?”

“We’ve collected possible DNA samples from three of the four crime scenes. It’s being processed now. All we need is a sample from Manerou.”

“Is he here in Miami?”

“He was. But one of the agents in the bureau shared Spelling’s mother’s address with Manerou before she knew he was the killer.”

Tucker was silent for a moment. “What are you going to do now?

“I’m going to get to Spelling’s mother’s place before Manerou does.”

“I can’t incriminate this Manerou until I have something solid. But Sean, you’ve given me a lot to throw at Governor Owens.”

“Throw a fast pitch because they strap Charlie to the gurney in eleven hours.”

Dave Collins was about to open a bottle of wine when he looked out toward his cockpit and saw O’Brien walking fast with Max under his arm. Through the open sliding-glass doors, Dave said, “Come on in, Sean. Cracking a bottle of cab. A Foxen Canyon, ninety-nine vintage. A good year for Californian cabernet.”

“A bad year for Charlie Williams. But now I know who did do it.”

“Who?”

“An FBI agent. Name’s Christian Manerou.”

“Good Lord, Sean. Every crime talk show in America’s running stories about the case. You must have just spoken with Tucker Houston. With his Texas tie and slight southern drawl, he’s become the darling of CNN. He was just saying how a new development in the case would definitely point towards a killer who used his position to shield the truth. He called it a ‘legal, moral and ethical obligation to seek the truth in William’s case.’ An FBI agent. Who would have thought?”

“It explains why I jumped to conclusions during the original investigation. I wasn’t following a sloppy trail left by Charlie Williams, I was following a well-thought-out trail laid by a man who knows forensics. He probably used a Ziploc bag to collect a few drops of Alexandria’s blood after he killed her. Sprinkled them into the front seat of William’s truck…it was a trail that made it a slam dunk in Charlie William’s face.”

O’Brien told the story as Dave sipped from a glass of cabernet. O’Brien concluded by saying, “If we can find the knife he used, the one that Spelling found and hid, we might find something on it to connect Manerou. The location of Sam Spelling’s written statement lies in the bloody message, or code, Father Callahan left behind.”

Dave sat back in his chair and looked at the fog drifting over the docks like smoke from a smoldering fire. He said, “The name Christian Manerou. Sounds French, could be Greek, and you said he was born on the island of Patmos in the Greek Isles. The same place depicted in Hieronymus Bosch’s painting-St. John on Patmos.” Dave paused, sipped some wine and said, “If we go back to Father Callahan’s hieroglyphics, if we look at them now in light of what we’ve discovered about Bosch, the painting, Omega, and Patmos…that leaves us with one thing…”

“The six-six-six,” said O’Brien.

“Precisely. Can we connect our latest eye-opener, Manerou, to these numbers?”

“You mean is Christian the devil? As oxymoronic as those terms sound…”

Dave wrote Christian Manerou’s name in large block letters on a piece of white paper. He said, “Since we’re talking numbers here…the ancient Greeks used numerology a lot in connection to their alphabet. They gave letters a numerical value. In the case of Omega, the last latter, it had the greatest value, eight hundred. You mentioned an oxymoron, well as we said the other night, today our scientists give Omega the value of one in trying to find the equation to the fate of the universe, but two thousand years ago, the Greeks gave Omega the princely weight of eight hundred.”

O’Brien said, “Alpha was the value of one.”

“Absolutely.” Dave sipped and smiled, his teeth purplish from the dark wine, his eyes alive with discovery. He said, “I’ll go online to find the numerical value of the twenty four letters in the Greek alphabet.” Dave typed, and the Greek alphabet and the story of Greek numerology appeared. “Take a look at this, Sean.” Dave positioned the laptop screen so O’Brien could get a better view. alpha = 1 (A) beta = 2 (B) gama = 3 (G) delta = 4 (D) epsilon = 5 (E) zeta = 6 (Z) eta = 8 (H) theta = 9 (Q) iota = 10 (I) kappa = 20 (K) lamba = 30 (L) mu = 40 (M) nu = 50 (N) xi = 60 (X) omnicron = 70 (O) pi = 80 (P) rho = 100 (R) sigma 200 = (S) tau = 300 (T) upsilon = 400 (Y, U) phi = 500 (Ph) chi = 600 (Ch) psi = 700 (Ps) omega = 800