Michael Prescott - Next Victim

McCallum didn’t answer. Instead she said, "He probably didn’t plan on finding anyone in the lab. It was just luck, that’s all. Good luck for him…"

"And bad luck for John Doe," Dodge said.

McCallum wasn’t listening. She was working it out, thinking aloud. "He made the boy help him, then killed him because he couldn’t leave a witness. Set the fire to conceal the crime. He would have known that an autopsy would reveal the cause of death, but he wanted to buy time, keep us in the dark for a few extra hours. That means he’s planning to act soon. Tonight, maybe. Almost certainly tonight…"

"Act how?" Dodge asked, getting a little ticked off at Tess McCallum. When she still didn’t answer, he pushed harder. "No offense, Special Agent, but it’s time for the information to start flowing both ways."

She looked at him as if remembering that he existed. "You recover anything from the crime scene?"

"Like a piece of paper with a bloody fingerprint on it? Or the killer’s business card? Sorry."

"We need to take a look."

"I already looked. So did my partner. So did the LAFD’s arson unit."

"Nobody was looking for things that could be connected with Mobius."

Winston said, "Mobius?"

McCallum seemed irritated with herself, as if she’d said too much. "Never mind. It’s just…a nickname." She turned to Dodge. "We need to go back there, check it out."

Dodge shrugged. "Who am I to question the wisdom and authority of a representative of the federal government?"

"Mind if we take my car?"

"We’ll have to. Left mine at the campus. My partner drove me over here."

"Let’s go, then."

Dodge didn’t intend to be ordered around. He lingered, talking to Winston. "Think there’ll be any problem with the ID?"

"Not once I get the antemortem data. His family dentist is in Palo Alto. So far we haven’t gotten the records."

"But once we do?"

"Then it’s no problem. There’s a lot here to work with. Tooth wear, enamel hypoplasia, fillings in two incisors, porcelain crown on one of the molars. Lot of dental work for a twenty-two-year-old. Kid must’ve consumed a lot of Popsicles."

"So you can make a comparison?"

"Yes, Detective. I may not be an odontologist, but I can compare X rays easily enough."

Odontologist was a fancy word for dentist. Dodge had looked it up once. There were forensic odontologists who specialized in identifying remains from dental work, but they were used only as consultants, called in when the regular MEs were out of their depth.

"Okay," he said. "When you get the records, give me a ring pronto, okay? I need to know if this is Scott Maple. His folks are probably a little curious too."

"As soon as they arrive, I’ll be on it," Winston said, but she was still looking at Agent McCallum, maybe hoping for more of an explanation.

If so, she was disappointed. McCallum walked out the door. Dodge followed, taking his time about it, just to get her steamed.

It worked. "Will you put a move on, please?" McCallum snapped.

"Sounds like this Mobius character has been active for a while. Another few minutes won’t make much of a difference."

"It could make all the difference. He’s on a tight schedule, I think. He’s planning something, and he intends for it to go down soon."

"And what’s this big thing he’s got planned?"

She didn’t answer, but Dodge found himself walking faster anyway. He was thinking of the activity around City Hall, the extra squad cars on the streets. He had a feeling that whoever this Mobius was, he was the reason for all the excitement. Which meant this was something big. Something Myron Levine would fucking kill to have as an exclusive.

Maybe this weekend wasn’t turning out so bad, after all.

He waited until they were on the Santa Monica Freeway, McCallum at the wheel of her bureau sedan, Dodge in the passenger seat. Then he asked, "Care to fill me in?"

She frowned and looked at him. He knew she was measuring him as a potential partner, trying to judge if he was someone she could count on. He also knew that she would have to trust him, because time was tight and she had no choice.

"Can you keep a secret?" she asked.

At four o’clock they arrived at the Life Sciences Center. By then Tess had summarized the situation.

"And you’re serious about this?" Dodge asked as they got out of her car, parked behind his.

She found the question bizarre and somehow offensive. "Is there anything funny about it?"

"It’s just a little hard to believe. I mean, no offense, but this is a fairly long chain of reasoning and some of the links look a little rusty."

"Which links?"

"Well, the chem lab connection, for one thing. A knife wound isn’t exactly an uncommon finding at the morgue. There are all kinds of reasons a kid might’ve been stabbed-drugs being the most obvious."

"Fair enough. But look at it this way. Mobius disappears from the hotel sometime after midnight. The fire starts a few hours later, less than four miles away. Mobius uses a knife that leaves a three-millimeter wound channel. The victim dies as a result of an injury inflicted by the same kind of knife. A chemical agent is taken from the hotel room. The victim is working alone in a chemistry lab, the perfect place for analyzing unknown substances. Time line, location, weapon, even motive-it all fits. If there’s no connection, then it’s one hell of a coincidence."

She expected him to put up further resistance, but he surprised her by nodding. "Okay, Special Agent. So what will he do now?"

"He?"

"Mobius."

"How should I know?"

"You seem to have guessed his tactics pretty well so far. Connecting him to the lab fire-that was sharp, Special Agent."

"It was obvious."

"Not to your colleagues, evidently. At least, I haven’t heard from this antiterrorist expert. What was his name again? Tennant?"

"True. You haven’t, have you?"

"Not a peep."

"Which means I know something Tennant doesn’t know."

"Sounds like leverage. Though I doubt that you need it. You bureau folk don’t play petty political games like us underpaid municipal workers."

She smiled. "Of course not."

The arson unit was gone, as were the campus security guards. All that protected the Life Sciences Center was a length of crime-scene tape around its perimeter, some hastily attached boards on the basement windows, and the lock on the door.

Tess went to find a guard with a key. She returned with a man in tow just as Dodge was putting away his cell phone. "Called Winston," he said. "No dental X rays yet. But I’m betting the deceased is Scott Maple."

"If he is, are you the one who’ll tell his parents?"

"My partner will get to do the honors. He’s good at that kind of thing. He’s a compassionate guy."

And you’re not, Tess reflected. She was glad Mr. and Mrs. Maple wouldn’t be hearing the news from Detective Dodge.

The guard unlocked the door. Before entering, Tess examined the lock. "I’ll bet he got in this way."

"Can he pick locks?" Dodge asked.

She thought of the house in the Denver suburbs, the door swinging open under her hand.

"Yes," she said with a catch in her voice. "Yes, he can do that."

Dodge was looking at her strangely. She ignored him. Together they descended to the basement lab.

The boarded-up windows shut out the daylight. Tess took out a flashlight, and Dodge did the same.

"We should have boots," he said. "And gloves."

"I have plastic evidence-handling gloves."

"I meant heavy gloves to protect our hands from all this crap. And boots to keep our feet dry."

But most of the water had drained off or been pumped out. The concrete floor was slick, but there was only a thin film of water, not enough to penetrate their shoes.