Jeffery Deaver - The Devil's Teardrop

Parker continued. "I've always thought of handwriting as a fingerprint of the heart and mind." He laughed self-consciously at this, thinking that she might have another brusque reaction to a sentimental thought. But something odd happened. Margaret Lukas nodded and looked away from him quickly. Parker thought, for a moment, that another message had flashed on a nearby computer and caught her attention. But there wasn't any. With her head turned away from him he could see her reflection in the screen and it seemed that her eyes were glistening with tears. This was something he never would have expected from Lukas but, yes, she was wiping her face.

He was about to ask her if anything was wrong but she stepped abruptly up to the glass panes holding the burnt yellow sheets. Without giving him a chance to say anything about the tears Lukas asked, "The mazes he drew? You think there's anything there? Maybe a clue?"

He didn't answer. Just continued to look at her. She turned to him briefly and repeated, "The mazes?"

After a moment he looked down, studied the sheet of yellow paper. Only psychopaths tend to leave cryptograms as clues and even then they rarely do. But Parker decided it wasn't a bad idea to check; they had so little else to go on. He put the glass panes holding the sheet on the overhead projector.

Lukas stood beside Parker.

"What're we looking for?" Cage asked.

"Do the lines make any letters?" Lukas asked.

"Good," Parker said. She was starting to get the hang of puzzles. They examined the lines carefully. But they found nothing.

"Maybe," she then suggested, "it's a map."

Another good idea.

Everyone gazed at the lines. As head of the District field office Lukas was an expert on the layout of the city. But she couldn't think of any streets or neighborhoods the mazes corresponded to. Neither could anyone else.

Geller looked back at his computer. He shook his head. "The anagram thing isn't working. There just isn't enough of the ash left to make any letters at all."

"We'll have to figure it out the old-fashioned way." Parker paced, staring at the blackboard. "'… the black…'"

"Some African-American organization?" Evans suggested.

"Possibly," Parker said. "But remember the unsub was smart. Educated."

Cage frowned. "What do you mean?"

It was Lukas who answered. "The word 'black' is lowercase. If it were the name of a group he'd probably capitalize it."

"Exactly," Parker said. "I'd guess it's descriptive. There's a good chance it does refer to race but I doubt it's a reference to a specific organization."

"But don't forget," Cage said. "He also likes to fool us."

"True," Parker admitted.

Black…

Parker walked to the examination table, stared down at the extortion note. Put his hands on either side of it. Stared at the devils teardrop dot above the letter i. Stared at the stark ink.

What do you know? he asked the document silently. What aren't you telling us? What secrets are you keeping? What-?

"I've got something," the voice called from the doorway.

They all turned.

Detective Len Hardy trotted into the lab, a sheaf of papers under his arm. He'd been running and he paused, caught his breath. "Okay, Margaret, you were right. I don't shoot and I don't investigate. But nobody's a better researcher than I am. So I decided why don't I do that? I've found out some things about the name. The Digger." He dropped the papers on the desk and started through them. He glanced at the team. "I'm sorry about before. With the mayor. I screwed up. I just wanted to do something to keep people from getting hurt."

"It's all right, Len," Lukas said. "What do you have?"

Hardy asked Dr. Evans, "When you were checking out the name, what databases did you use?"

"Well, the standard ones," the doctor answered. He seemed defensive.

"Criminal?" Hardy asked, "VICAP, N.Y.P.D. Violent Felons, John Jay?"

"Those, sure," Evans said, eyes avoiding Hardy's.

"That was fine," Hardy said, "but I got to thinking why not try noncriminal resources? I finally found it. The database at the Religious History Department at Cambridge University." Hardy opened a notebook. There were dozens of pages inside, indexed and organized. The young detective was right; he sure knew how to research.

"That group you mentioned in San Francisco in the sixties?" he asked Dr. Evans. "The one called the Diggers?"

"But I checked them out," the doctor said. "They were just an acting troupe."

"No, they weren't," Hardy responded. "It was a radical underground political and social movement, centered in Haight-Ashbury. I checked out their philosophy and history, and it turns out they took their name from a group in England in the seventeenth century. And they were a lot more radical. They advocated abolishing private ownership of land. Here's what's significant. They were mostly economic and social but they allied themselves with another group, which was political and more active-sometimes militant. They were called the 'True Levelers.'"

"'Levelers,"' Cage muttered. "That's a damn spooky name too."

Hardy continued. "They objected to control of the people by an upper-class elite and by a central government."

"But what does it mean for us?" Lukas asked.

Hardy said, "It might help us find the last target. What would he want to hit to quote level our capitalistic society?"

Parker said, "Before we can answer that we need to know why he's got it in for society."

"Religious nut?" Geller said. "Remember the crucifix?"

"Could be," Evans said. "But most religious zealots wouldn't want money; they'd want a half hour on CNN."

"Maybe he had a grudge," Parker said.

"Sure. Revenge." Lukas said this.

"Somebody hurt him," Parker said. "And he wants to get even."

Evans nodded. "It's making sense."

"But who? Who hurt him?" Hardy mused, staring again at the ghostly extortion note.

"He got fired?" Cage suggested. "Disgruntled worker."

"No," Evans said, "a psychotic might kill for that but he wasn't psychotic. He was too smart and controlled."

Geller rasped, "Big business, big corporations, fat cats…"

"Wait," Hardy said, "if those were his targets wouldn't he be in New York, not Washington?"

"He was," Cage pointed out. "White Plains."

But Hardy shook his head. "No, remember-White Plains, Boston, Philly? Those were just trial runs for him. This is his grand finale."

"Government," Parker said. "That's why he's here."

Hardy nodded. "And the Diggers objected to central government. So maybe it isn't upper-class society at all." He glanced at Evans. "But the federal government."

Lukas said, "That's it. It's got to be."

Parker: "The government was responsible for something that hurt him." Looking over the team. "Any thoughts on what?"

"Ideology?" Cage wondered aloud. "He's a communist or part of a right-wing militia cell."

Evans shook his head. "No, he would've delivered a manifesto by now. It's more personal than that."

Lukas and Hardy caught each others eyes. It seemed to Parker that they came up with an identical thought at the same time. It was the detective who said, "The death of somebody he loved."

Lukas nodded.

"Could be," the psychologist offered.

"Okay," Cage said. "What could the scenario've been? Who died? Why?"

"Execution?" Hardy suggested.

Cage shook his head. "Hardly ever see federal capital crimes. They're mostly state."

"Coast guard rescue goes bad," Geller suggested.

"Far-fetched," Lukas said.

Hardy tried again, "Government car or truck involved in a crash, postal worker shooting spree, Park Service accident… diplomats…"

"Military," Cage suggested. "Most deaths involving the federal government are probably military related."