Robert Walker - Scalpers

"Good. Now. You need that time off you've pushed aside, kid, and you need to talk about it ... not to stare into the face of a dead girl you feel guilty over."

"Bullshit. I just—"

"And maybe you really shouldn't be dodging Dr. Hamel.

Her face was steadily growing angrier and she exploded. “Just who the hell do you think you are, Dr. High-and-Mighty, know-it-all sleuth and poor hybrid imitation of Sherlock Holmes, Christ! Comin’ in here where you ain't wanted, tellin’ me I got to beware of—of—"

"Of yourself, Peggy—yeah, like my Jackie."

"I'm not your Jackie. I grew up in a way you couldn't begin to dream possible! Raped by my own father, into drugs in junior high, forty-two when I was fourteen!"

The phone rang. Dean let it ring, but stared back at it. It could be Ken with important information. It could be Sybil. It could be Jackie....

"Take it,” she said.

"Don't go anywhere,” he told her.

She wiped her eyes as he went into the other room for the phone. The ringing machine shattered the quiet lab. When Dean lifted the receiver he had an odd sensation of fear: the last time he answered a telephone call in the dark of a pathology lab, Angel Rae was on the other end taunting him, telling him the horrible truth of how she had Jackie.

"Grant,” he said cautiously, into the phone.

He was instantly relieved to hear Kelso's near-bellowing voice. “Kelso, anything?” he asked, anxious.

"Seems Park was with the Seneca, Wisconsin police, a town of some 32,456 people. According to Prather, who says he left a message for you to return his call, this guy Park was the highest ranking officer on the force there when a series of scalpings took place. He was under a lot of heat, and when the killings stopped and he could not solve the case, he lost his job and moved out. Some of that could be smoke created for guys like us who are snooping, you know. He might be legit, and in Orlando on special assignment attached to Hodges. Certainly would want a man with his experience with me if I were facing a case as weird as this."

Dean thought he heard a click, someone listening in. He looked up to see Peggy's whereabouts, but all he could confirm was the fact that she was gone. He cursed under his breath, causing Kelso to ask him what he was grumbling about now.

"Can't say how much I'd like you down here with me on this case, Ken. Sure is hard to know who a guy can trust when even the people who don't have a reason to lie to you do."

"Sid?"

"Among others. As for Sid, ah, I think we've got it resolved."

"Sybil mentioned the fact that you did a little digging in his dirt, too."

"Probably shouldn't have."

"Why? You'd do it to me, wouldn't you? I mean, if I were behaving irrationally? Which, by the way, brings me around to your behavior."

"I know, call Jackie. I promise I will."

"Tell her you'll be back by the end of the week. Tell her anything."

"Again, thanks for the advice."

"Oh, and Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Careful down there, huh? I mean, if this guy Park is a psycho cop ... well, he's carrying a weapon at all times. You got a gun?"

"I packed one, but it's at the hotel."

"Asshole. Strap it on."

Dean thanked his friend again for the advice. “Any chance you might join me?"

"Would if I could, but I've already shot my travel allowance for the year."

"Ken, suppose Park were fired for cause up in Michigan—you know, suspicious behavior, maybe something more. Suppose the smoke isn't smoke at all, but real fire?"

"Yeah, I thought of that."

"Isn't there any way to find out about his true status?"

"Not if it's been masked by computers, to be corrected at some future date. The only one who might have the straight dope on him is the man in charge there in Orlando."

"Hodges?"

"Right."

"Know anything about Hodges?"

"A career man, like me."

"Okay, thanks again, buddy."

"No problem, Dino, and tomorrow I'll see if I can't get Hodges on the line, get the facts."

"He's more likely to cooperate if you use the telex so he can confirm who you are."

"Will do."

They hung up. Hearing Ken's voice, being reminded of Jackie's distress, made Dean again want to chuck Florida for home and leave this bizarre battle for other men to fight. But the screeching of car tires from a few stories below took him to the window, where he saw a squad car tearing out of the parking lot. The top carried the number 24 on it. Dean wondered if it could possibly be Peggy Carson. His mind flashed back to Peggy at the side of the corpse, and he wondered if, given her state of mind, she had not lifted an extension to deliberately eavesdrop on his and Ken's discussion. If so, she now knew of Dean's suspicions regarding Park. Could she possibly be acting on those suspicions in haste at this moment?

Dean quickly dialed dispatch downstairs, identified himself, and asked if he could be put in touch with Officer Peggy Carson at that moment.

"Officer Carson is off duty, sir,” replied the female voice.

"Can you tell me what her squad car number is?"

It took a moment for the response, Dean listening to the keyboard of a computer being punched repeatedly. “Twenty-four, sir."

Peggy had just taken her squad car without authorization, and that was enough for Dean to know where she was going.

"I need a car and the address of Lt. David Park,” he told the dispatch officer.

"The motor pool can oblige you with a car, Dr. Grant, but I cannot give out the address of an officer without form A-213 in triplicate, or a warrant from a—"

"Damn it, this is an emergency!"

"Would you like 911?"

"No, no!” Dean wanted to stop Peggy, not get her busted.

"I can beep for Lt. Park, sir. Have him get in contact with you."

"No, no—get me Dyer, Frank Dyer."

Dean would try another way for the address.

"I'll be happy to start the paperwork for the unit, sir, and when you come on down, Dr. Grant, and sign the form, then I could fill it out for you and run it through channels. I'm sorry, but it's policy now. I'll let them know in the motor pool you're on your way. And I have Detective Sargeant Dyer on the line for you now."

"Great."

Dyer came on. “Dr. Grant, what's up?"

"I need help, Frank."

"Anything I can do, you've got it."

"Is Park with you?"

"No, he's knocked off for tonight"

"I need transportation, a siren, fast."

"All right, meet me in the lot."

"Frank?"

"Yeah, doc?"

"Don't bring Park in on this one."

"Sure ... sure..."

Dean rushed out, unaware that someone stood at the end of the hallway in deep shadow watching his movements as he locked the final door and raced for the lot, bumping into strangers as he went.

NINE

Peggy Carson wondered if she should not call in her partner, wondered why she was driven to do this thing alone, driven to disregard the law and her own morals. Eavesdropping had never been her style. The cruiser sped directly for her destination, smoothly and silently taking her to the scalpers. She fantasized blowing their frigging heads off with her arsenal of weapons. The unit was equipped with a shotgun, and with her she had a .38 Smith and Wesson. A third gun, a long-barrelled .45, her own, was resting between her thighs at the moment.

It was seeing the dead girl, or what remained of her, and knowing in her heart that the girl had become a surrogate for death, a stand-in for Peggy herself, that was pushing the usually self-contained Officer Carson to a brink she had not known since childhood, when she had wanted more than anything in life to see a man killed.

As the car bumped over tracks and wound its way into Park's neighborhood, Peggy thought of the lonely Jane Doe on the slab. She would be alive today if Peggy had been killed that night herself. Dean said as much when he told her the killers had been in search of a black female's scalp. And now, with Dean Grant pointing the finger at Lt. David Park, Peggy felt she must do something—anything but go home. She felt an urgency like never before. She believed others like herself were at this moment being stalked by the bastards all the other cops were now calling the Scalpers. She wanted more than anything to blow their scalps off with her .45, and she wanted to see the little dwarf's body bleeding from as many holes as her shotgun could inflict. She wanted to see his body bounce from the impact of the weapon. And she wanted to see that cold son-of-a-bitch, Park, pay for his part in all this.