Scott Sigler - Nocturnal - A Novel

Pookie glanced at Robertson. Robertson had the report open to the same page. He was staring intently at it, his gray glasses halfway down his nose.

And Sharrow as well, the report open on his lap, his bushy-white-eyebrowed eyes focused on the blood symbol.

The way they all stared, so intently … it was spooky.

Chief Zou looked up. “Who have you talked to so far?”

“We canvassed the area,” Pookie said. “We couldn’t find anyone who saw or heard anything that night. We talked to Kyle Souller, principal at Galileo High, where Oscar attended. We tried to speak with Oscar’s parents, but they’re too upset to talk about it yet.”

Zou’s eyes flicked to the framed picture of her twin girls. “I can only imagine how they must feel right now.”

Pookie nodded. “They were pretty shook up. We also talked to Alex Panos, who runs BoyCo, the gang Oscar was in, and to Alex’s mother, Susan. We still need to talk to Issac Moses and Jay Parlar, the other gang members.”

Zou pulled three photos from the folder and set them side by side in a neat row above the report. Pookie had included the photos from Black Mr. Burns’s gang database. Once again he looked at the details, memorizing the faces: Jay Parlar with his scraggly red goatee; Issac Moses with his crooked nose and blue eyes; the blond hair and arrogant sneer of Alex Panos.

Zou nodded, looked at the report. “And these symbols, Inspector Chang? What have you found about those?”

Sharrow and Robertson both looked up from their reports. They stared at him. Pookie felt like a lab rat with three scientists waiting to see how he would react to new stimuli.

“Uh, we searched the RISS database,” he said. “It came up with nothing.”

“Nothing?” Zou said. “Nothing at all?”

“Nothing local, I mean.”

She nodded. Three heads again bent to look at the report, at the symbols.

He’d been joking about cop instincts earlier, but they were real; they suddenly lit up like his own version of Spidey-Sense. There had been information about those symbols in the system, but that information had been deleted — Zou, Robertson and Sharrow probably had the access privileges to do just that.

At this point, it was best not to let on that Black Mr. Burns was still digging deeper. But John’s name was already in the report — if Pookie didn’t at least mention John’s work, Zou might call him to the office next.

“There was one hit,” Pookie said. “A serial killer from New York, but that case has been closed for twenty years. We showed the symbol around the neighborhood where Oscar was killed — no one has seen it before. John Smith in the Gang Task Force said it wasn’t associated with any local gangs. In short, we couldn’t find shit.”

Zou leaned back, ever so slightly. Had that information made her relax? Just a little?

“You didn’t find anything else?”

Pookie shook his head.

Zou looked at Bryan. “How about you, Clauser? Anything to add?”

Bryan also shook his head. She stared at him until the air again became uncomfortable, but Bryan didn’t look away. Finally, Zou looked back down to the report.

Pookie waited. Zou was meticulous, sure, but she had a flair for quiet drama.

Assistant Chief Robertson also waited, his folder open in his hands, his eyes fixed on Zou.

Pookie glanced at Sharrow. The white-haired captain had closed his folder. He held it in both hands. The folder trembled slightly. He still sat ramrod straight, but his eyes were closed.

What the hell was going on?

Zou looked up. “The urine,” she said. “Similar m.o. to Paul Maloney — murder, mutilated body, the perps urinated on the corpse. Inspector Chang, do you think the two are connected?”

Pookie nodded. “I’d bet my balls on it, Chief. It can’t be a copycat because the news didn’t report that someone gave Father Paul a golden shower.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“Sorry,” Pookie said. “I mean, urinated on the deceased , of course.”

She shut the folder and looked up.

“I agree,” she said. “The two cases are related. Give all your information and contacts to Rich Verde and Bobby Pigeon.”

No, he had not just heard that correctly. “Chief,” Pookie said, “shouldn’t they be giving their info on Maloney to us?”

“Did I stutter? You guys are off the case.”

“But, Chief, we were the first on the scene!”

Robertson closed his folder with an audible snap . “Just give Verde your information, Pookie.”

Not only were they not getting the Maloney gig, but now Verde would have a case that Bryan was somehow connected to? Verde was an asshole, sure, but he was good at the job. He would dig and dig hard. If he found info that could tie Bryan to this … Pookie could not let the man get this case.

“Chief,” Pookie said. “Oscar Woody is ours . We found him, we were first on the scene. Birdman just came over from Vice. He’s seen, what, four murder cases?”

Captain Sharrow stood. He held his folder at his side. His hands had stopped shaking. “Knock it off, Chang,” he said. “Pigeon is good. And Verde was busting murderers when you were still in diapers.”

“But, Cap, we want this case!”

Chief Zou straightened the report, making sure it paralleled the desk’s edges. “Inspector Chang, that’s enough.”

“But, Chief, you—”

“Done,” she said, slicing her hand sideways like a knife through air. “Chang, this time you are going to listen and obey . This isn’t going to be another Blake Johansson situation.”

She was bringing that up? “And by Blake Johansson situation , you mean the dirty cop that I uncovered, right?”

“You were told to leave that case alone,” Zou said. “You were told that Internal Affairs would handle it, but you wouldn’t listen. John Smith almost died as a result and his career has never been the same.” She glanced at Bryan. “Blake Johansson did die.”

Pookie ground his teeth, trying to keep quiet. Internal Affairs had seemed to be part of Johansson’s payoff chain — they ignored Johansson just as Johansson ignored the gangs who paid him off. Pookie had gone for the bust — it wasn’t his fault that Johansson decided to shoot it out instead of going quietly.

At least that’s what Pookie told himself every time he saw Black Mr. Burns stuck behind a desk instead of out chasing perps.

“Inspector Chang, this time, you will listen,” Zou said. “My orders are not open to debate. Go see Verde and Pigeon, give them everything you have. If that principal you talked to finds anything, he is to call them , not you.”

She turned her stare on Bryan. “And you, Clauser, let me hear it — let me hear you understand that you guys are off this case .”

Bryan stared back at her. Other than the fact that he looked like he might vomit at any moment, his eyes showed nothing.

“We’re off the case,” he said. “Our ears work just fine.”

Zou nodded once. “Good day, gentlemen.”

Bryan walked out of the office. Pookie stood to follow him. This didn’t make sense. Even if Verde and the Birdman ran both cases, Pookie and Bryan should have been assigned to support them, not booted to the curb altogether. Did Zou know something Pookie did not? Maybe something about Bryan’s dreams?

The thought made him stop and turn. He looked back, but Captain Sharrow, Chief Zou and Assistant Chief Sean Robertson didn’t notice him doing it. They had their folders open again. All three of them were staring at the symbols.

Robin Runs the Show

Three more bodies had come in that afternoon. Two looked like natural causes, while the other one was clearly from a gunshot wound to the temple. The morgue seemed busier than ever. Even with Metz gone, his policies and training were still in place and things ran fairly smooth.