Читать книгу The Michelangelo Murders - Aubrey Smith - Страница 4

Shelby walked to the first chair he saw in the ER waiting room and flopped down with a heavy thud. He closed his eyes, but still the pictures and sounds of Trauma Room One raged in his head. He realized that now there were six victims. They only had IDs on three of them, no links, no suspects, and they’re not even dead.

He looked at his watch. It was 10:03 a.m. I’d better call the assistant chief, let him know what’s going on before he reads it in the paper.

“Captain.” It was Esquivel. “Here’s the guy’s identification. I got it from one of the uniforms who brought him in.” He handed Shelby a bloody billfold, then sat in a chair next to him. “Seems that this Klaus, that’s his name, Karl Klaus, was driving to work. Want to guess where he works?”

Shelby glanced up from the sticky leather. Esquivel had a look on his face that told him Klaus worked at the Johnson Space Center.

“By any chance, does he work at NASA?”

“You got it, Astronaut City. The blues told me Klaus was driving south on the Gulf Freeway near the Hobby exit. Howard Street, I think they said. He just went cuckoo. The witnesses said Klaus was talking on a cell phone when he slid to a stop, sideways on the freeway, and jumped out of the car, ripping at his clothes.

“One of the witnesses, a Mrs. Robertson, said Klaus threw his cell phone over the median fence and pulled his pants off just a second or two before he was smacked by a kid in a red Corvette. The blues said the Vette took about ten to twelve thousand in damage from the impact.

“Klaus rolled over the top of the Vette and was hit by a pickup, then splattered back into the Vette. Now get this, Klaus then got up and ran across the interstate, where he climbed about halfway over the median fence before he fell. It took the EMS crew and three of our boys to control this wacko.”

Shelby said, “Get a subpoena. I want to know who Klaus was talking to. Get on it, and also we’ll want the phone records on the second victim, Soto. Didn’t you say he was on the phone when he tripped out?”

“That’s right.”

After Esquivel hurried away to make arrangements for phone records, Shelby closed his eyes for a second. He didn’t even jump when someone laid a hand on his shoulder. He thought he could hear his eyelids creak as he slowly opened them and glanced at his watch. Good Lord, I’ve been asleep. It’s 10:40 a.m.

When he looked up, he saw a beautiful woman. She was tall and leggy, with long blond hair the color of corn and a face made to be studied and admired. She was the most alluring woman he’d ever seen. When he looked into her eyes, he had to force himself to look away. Her face and smile radiated both charm and personality. She stuck out her hand and Shelby was surprised by the firm, strong grip.

“I’m Heather Kendrick,” she said, “from the Disease Control Center in Atlanta. I’ll be your liaison with the medical team that’s working out of Ben Taub. They called Wednesday when victim number three came in. I got the assignment Thursday morning and flew into Houston last night. Well, I guess it was really this morning. You are Captain Shelby, aren’t you?”

The flu and lack of sleep almost had him down. He had to struggle for words. “Yes ma’am, I’m Shelby.”

“May I sit down? Are you okay?”

Shelby pushed himself up and indicated that she should sit. “Yeah, I’m sorry, please. I’ve got a touch of the flu. I guess I’ll be okay if I don’t die first.”

She was about thirty-five, wearing khaki pants, a blue turtleneck sweater and carrying a tan trench coat. When she saw Shelby staring at it, she said, “I didn’t realize it would be this warm here.” She was confident and her composure made Shelby think about Nancy. He could still see her that first day when he found out she was to be his new partner. The memory of Nancy standing in the squad room, both hands on her hips, mad because he was late, was still vivid. He remembered and, when he looked into Kendrick’s face, he was sure he didn’t need that kind of trouble again. He’d learned years ago that trouble usually came in the form of beautiful women.

“Is that the last victim’s billfold?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am, I was just going to inventory its contents,” he answered and opened the tattered wallet. “Ninety-six dollars, credit cards, three pictures, a package of condoms, and a key. The key has a number seven stamped on it. That’s about it.”

“This guy married?”

“Yeah, I think so. Why?”

“If he’s married, why’s he carrying a package of condoms around in his billfold? Seems a little unusual, don’t you think?”

I had a feeling she was going to be like this, Shelby thought. “Probably has a girlfriend or maybe he’s divorced. But that’s a good point. I’ll make a note of it.” Lady, I don’t feel good. Please just stay out of my way and let me do my job. Give me a break. This isn’t even a homicide. At least not yet. I need to get off my duff and call the chief. And maybe I can turn all of this over to some other department. After all, everyone is still alive. Human Brain Virus, what the heck do I know about stuff like this?

“Do you have any connections between the victims?” she asked.

“Look, we’re not even sure we have victims. There’s no evidence to suggest that these men aren’t suffering from some medical condition. The doctors are talking about Human Brain Virus, aren’t they? The victims aren’t dead so we sure don’t have a homicide, at least not until one of them dies. Okay?”

“Captain, is there a problem here I’m not aware of?”

“No…I guess not. I’m not feeling well, that’s all. Maybe we could continue this a little later in the day. I need to talk with my boss, fill him in and get some legal advice on how to proceed with this. You’ve got to admit this isn’t your usual criminal investigation, dead men who aren’t dead?”

“Why don’t we meet at your office at four-thirty, Captain? That will give us both time to do a little investigating to see how we can best proceed, if at all. Maybe then we’ll know if we have a criminal act or if this is strictly a medical investigation.”

Before he could get up, Kendrick walked away. He watched her move down the crowded hall with the grace of a gazelle. Then she disappeared.

At the downtown library, Shelby waded through the hushed and muffled trampling of forty or fifty pairs of dirty sneakers as a group of fourth graders were corralled out the front doors, their story hour over. When the glass door closed, shutting off the pushing, whispering, and giggling like an on-off knob on a radio, the silence seemed to push heavily into his ears.

He had already talked to the assistant chief and could not shake the investigation. Now he was the official case officer and the assistant chief had been stern when he told Shelby to extend all of the department’s cooperation to the health investigator from Atlanta.

Kendrick reminded him of Nancy. That was what bothered him. Nancy Atkinson had been a cop for eight years and a homicide detective for three months when she was killed, murdered, five years ago. Women and police work don’t mix. I should’ve watched her better, been there when it happened. I should have never sent her out by herself.

A routine investigation gone sour was the way the investigators summed it up in their report. They said Atkinson followed all the procedures, said the guy just went nuts. One of the investigators told Shelby, “The perp was a big-shot executive who couldn’t face the embarrassment of being arrested. He grabbed Atkinson, bear-hugged her, and threw himself out his office window, fourteen stories down to the street. Man, she never knew what hit her.” Five years and she still haunts my days and, even worse, my nights.

He could still hear her last words to him. “Come on, James, lighten up. This is no big deal. I’ll have him arrested and booked in an hour. Go on, finish your report, and I’ll be back by five o’clock and we can get a drink. Okay?”

He leaned back in the chair and recalled how they’d gotten involved. They both knew it was wrong, but it had been about a year after his wife had died and he needed to be with someone and she was on the rebound from a divorce. A month later, Nancy was dead.

After years of working to get his master’s degree in criminology, Shelby was familiar with libraries and quickly found a book on computer viruses. Now thirty-nine, he had made a hobby of going to school. Next May, just six months, he thought, all the work will pay off with a doctorate, and when I make my twenty at the PD, I’ll give up the blue ghost and find a faculty position somewhere and spend my “golden years” teaching. I’m not sure forty-two qualifies for golden years, he’d thought many times. At thirty-nine, he was still looking for his peak.

In thirty minutes he knew more about rogue software and virus attacks on hard drives than he had ever wanted to know. He was surprised to read that thousands of known computer viruses existed and hundreds of new ones were discovered each month. He read of software pirating and people intentionally inserting a logic trap or Trojan-horse computer virus onto stolen software and using computer bulletin boards to set off these tiny time bombs. Shelby paid careful attention to the pages on Michelangelo and virus-scanning utilities and devices.

He had trouble concentrating; his mind wandered, and he heard a hissing voice cautioning him. It was his mother’s voice, warning him just as she did when he was a child. Jimmy Dick. Oh, Jimmy Dick, be careful. He tried to shake the thought but her warning continued. You don’t want to hear Michelangelo sing inyourear. Don’t listen to his death march. Jimmy, when the phone rings,don’tanswer it…When the phone rings, don’t answer it. When the...

Shelby gasped and jumped to reality when someone laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. It was Heather Kendrick back again.

“Well, Captain, looks like great minds do work alike. I thought I’d brush up on computer viruses, and I see you had the same idea. Find anything?”

Shelby propped his nerves back into place and motioned for her to sit. She did, in the chair next to him. He could smell her perfume and feel her body heat. He felt got a whiff of her minty breath. He knew she could twist him around her little finger and never have to say a word.

“I’ve probably learned more than I ever wanted to know about computer viruses,” he whispered. “How ’bout you, come up with anything new?”

“Yes.” Her blue eyes sparkled like fire. “We’ve got six victims, two John Does and Soto, Feller, Van Cline, and Klaus. After analyzing all the test results, we’re pretty sure all six men have the same type of virus. No one’s ever seen anything just like this before, but it seems there may have been a chemical reaction in each man’s brain caused from some external stimuli, the virus.”

“How’d they get it? Does anyone know where it comes from?” Shelby asked.

“No, not yet. But these suggestions that somehow they are infected by phone is ludicrous. I can promise you they aren’t getting a virus over the phone.”

“Don’t be too sure. We got the phone records on Soto and Klaus. They were both talking to the same phone number when they went insane.”

“Come on, Captain, get real,” she scoffed.

“I’m not saying that’s how the virus is transmitted. All I’m saying is that at least two of the victims were on the phone at the apparent time of the disease attack, and that at least those two were talking to the same phone number.”

“Whose?”

“The Johnson Space Center,” he answered.

“Who were they talking to?”

“Don’t know. All we have is the main number. The way it’s set up out there, most of the phones can dial out directly or use one of the main numbers. If the victims had called the Space Center instead of being called, then maybe we could trace what number or department they called.” He paused, thinking, before continuing. “If the person they were talking to had dialed out directly, then we’d know what phone he or she called from. But the way it happened, we don’t know jack, except that the calls came from the Space Center. And that four of the six victims work at the Space Center.”

“What? I didn’t know that. Four of the men worked at the same place?”

“Yes, ma’am, and for all we know, all six may have. Until we get IDs on the two John Does, we just don’t know.”

“They all work at the same place and it’s a space center. Now, that puts a heck of a wrinkle into things. Boy, does that open up a can of worms. Could this be some kind of terrorist attack? Do they work in the same building or same office? Where do they eat?”

“Whoa, hold on. We’re just getting started. One step at a time, please. Look, I’m still trying to put the basics together. I’ve got my best investigator, Lieutenant Esquivel, working overtime on this. I’m supposed to meet him in about an hour to get his update. Why don’t you and I meet at the hospital, say at six-thirty, exchange info, and then call it a day? I don’t know about you, but I’m beat, okay?”

“Okay, it’s just that when you find a common link like this you jump on it,” she answered. “I’ve found that there are no coincidences in medical investigation, at least until you prove there is.”

Kendrick paused and waited for Shelby’s reaction. When he nodded, she continued. “Having four men out of six work at the same place tells me that’s where we start. Food, water, or air, and there’s no telling what they may have out there to contaminate. Shelby, this may be some space virus. We’ve got to get on this.”

“Ms. Kendrick, you may be right…I just don’t know. Somehow there’s something very ominous about all of this, something sinister and evil. I can feel it in my bones.”

“I think your bones have the flu, Captain, that’s all. All my instincts tell me that we either have a case of some type of food-…or perhaps, water-transmitted virus or, God help us, let’s hope it’s not an air-transmitted virus. I’ll see you at six-thirty.”

Quickly, she was up and gone. Shelby thought, That woman can disappear faster than anyone I’ve ever seen. He decided he’d better check his messages and he, too, left the library.

Shelby opened the door to the unmarked Crown Vic and waited for the blast of Texas heat to escape. He slid in and reached for his cell phone. As his hand touched the phone it rang, startling him a little. His nerves were on edge.

Quickly, he picked up the phone and simply said, “Shelby.”

The voice he heard was cold and mechanical. “Jimmy Dick, how are you?”

No one had called him by that name since his mother died eight years ago. An unexplainable feeling of panic coursed through his body.

“Who is this?”

“Well, Jimmy Dick, I thought it was about time you and I talked. It’s time the world knows about me. You may call me Michelangelo, Mr. Michelangelo.” There was a slight pause; Shelby could hear the man suck a breath before he continued. “Now listen. Pay attention to what I have to say. I want you to tell the papers…and the TV people this…Tell them the six HBV men were evil and they deserved to die. Did you hear me?”

Shelby didn’t know if the man was on the level or not, but he was willing to listen. There was no doubt, he wanted to hear the rest of the story when he told the caller, “I hear you.”

“Tell them there are three others who are going to die and that’s all. Do you understand? If you don’t tell them exactly what I’ve just told you to say, you and Ms. Kendrick will be the next victims to hear Michelangelo’s song.”

There was a slight pause and then, “I know all about you, Shelby, everything. Computer records.” The voice seemed to hiss. “You understand, don’t you, Jimmy Dick?” The laugh was a sinister rumble that sent an icy chill through Shelby as Michelangelo continued to taunt him. “I know everything, Captain. I know where you went to high school, your teachers, your grades, and, as you can see, Captain James Richard, 444-35-2727, Shelby, I know everything there is to know about you.”

Shelby felt cold all the way to the marrow. For the first time in his eighteen years as a policeman, he felt totally vulnerable and he was scared. If this guy is on the level…God help us all.

“Now do it, or I’ll have no reservation about using you and Kendrick as examples…You do understand, don’t you, Jimmy Dick?” Without another word, the phone suddenly went dead. Michelangelo was gone. What’s going to happen next? Shelby wondered.