Читать книгу The Michelangelo Murders - Aubrey Smith - Страница 5

Shelby was noticeably shaken as he eased back into his chair in the homicide office. His was the corner office. Sometimes he looked around and thought, Eighteen years and this is about all I have to show for it. But today his mind was totally focused on Michelangelo and the call he had received thirty minutes earlier.

“Esquivel, come in here for a minute and give me an update. What’s new in the Michelangelo case?”

Esquivel looked ragged and tired as he closed the door and slid into a side chair. “Here’s where we’re at, Captain. We just got an ID on the first victim, the one hit by the garbage truck on the Gulf Freeway.” Esquivel looked at his notes. “Let’s see, his name is Terry Stafford, 4127 River Rock. Married, two kids, and get this, he doesn’t work at the Space Center. He’s a real estate salesman with Coldwell out in the Jersey Village area.”

Shelby’s mind seemed to blink on and off, but he was determined to hang on until his meeting with Kendrick. There was still so much to check and this thing seemed to be snowballing.

“I want two things checked out on all the victims. Have Sergeant Price find out about each victim’s last phone call. In fact, have him get their phone records, home, office, cells, pagers, whatever it takes. Let’s start with the past three months.” Shelby blew his nose, folded his handkerchief, and said, “Have him check their personal property to see if any of them has a key with the number seven stamped on it. I’ve got a feeling that before all of this is over, we’ll find a solid connection between these victims and whoever is involved in taking them down.”

“Captain, are you sure there’s foul play here? How do we know it’s not just some kind of medical problem? I mean, do you know something I don’t?”

“About an hour ago I got a phone call from someone who gave me a message for the press. He wants me to tell the world that these men were evil and deserved to die. He said if I didn’t deliver the message, he’d take care of me too. I believe he meant what he said, and I’m sure he’s somehow putting this virus or whatever it is in their heads via the phone.”

“Maybe it was a hoax call.”

“No, it’s the real thing. He had my private number, something not many people have. Have Price put a tap on my phones right away, okay? And see if we can trace that call. The maniac said he had three more people to take care of so we need to move on those phone records fast. What else?”

Esquivel flipped through his notebook. Exhausted from the twenty-four-hour day, he covered a yawn and hoped his girlfriend would understand being stood up. “I still need to get everything typed up. Things are moving so fast I’m getting confused and I have notes. Let’s see,” he said, half to himself, “Stafford, then Soto and I need to get Price on the phone records. I need someone checking on the number seven keys, and we still have a John Doe to ID. And then there’s Feller on Thursday.”

Esquivel looked up from his notes and said, “Captain, one thing that comes to mind right off the bat is that they’re all white males about thirty to forty years old. And they’re all in very good physical shape, like maybe they all work out. I’ll check the health clubs to see if any of them are members.”

Shelby watched as Esquivel tapped his finger on the page. Thinking, before he said, “Feller was the only one zapped on Thursday, and he was over on the north side. He’s the only one who wasn’t in the area of the interstate and downtown.”

Shelby’s energy had melted away. His chair seemed to be a sponge that sucked away his will to keep moving. A shallow fog rolled into his head. All he wanted to do was lie down for a few minutes. “Find the officers who brought Feller in,” he told Esquivel. “I want to talk with them and see if they can shed any light on this.” Esquivel nodded as Shelby continued. “Then I want you to interview each of the men involved in getting the rest of the victims to the hospital. Assign a team to each victim and dig into a connection. Interview family, neighbors, co-workers and employers, anyone you can connect until we find out what’s going on here. Remember the phone calls and the key with number seven on it. I’ve got to fill the assistant chief in and see what he wants to do about the press. But first I’m going to close my eyes for a second. Close the door on your way out and tell Mary I’m not taking any calls for the next few minutes. Get that light for me.”

When Esquivel cut the lights off, the office was cool and quiet. Shelby laid his head back, and was asleep.

Jimmy Dick…Jimmy Dick, answer the phone. Jimmy Dick, it’s your mother calling. Hurry, Jimmy Dick, answer the phone…Hurry, Jimmy Dick, and answer the phone…

“Captain,” Patrolman Ramirez said. “Lieutenant Esquivel told me you wanted to see me about the Feller report.”

Shelby woke with a start. “Yeah, come on in, Ramirez. Turn on that light and have a seat. Sorry, but I’ve been up most of the night and still have several hours to go. I’ve got the flu on top of all that. Okay, tell me what you can about Feller. His first name’s Robert, right?”

Ramirez sat straight in the chair in front of the captain. He’d had a bad day. Everything had gone wrong and now he was going to have to relive every horrible detail, tell the whole story to the captain. Less than a year on the street, still just a rookie, he wasn’t sure just how much trouble he was in over the incident. After all, he had almost ripped a guy’s nuts off, trying to control him until help arrived.

“Yes sir, Robert Feller. I guess he’s some kind of pervert or something the way he was naked and running around at the school.”

Ramirez scrunched around in the chair. “Highland Heights Elementary on Paul Quinn. I got the call Thursday morning about eleven, see the principal at the school about a man exposing himself to the kids on the east side playgrounds.”

“What happened?” Shelby asked.

“When I got there, the principal and two other teachers met me in the drive. They said a man, a white male, was naked, running around and screaming at the children. They already had all the kids back in the classrooms. The principal thought the man was high on drugs. Said he had got into the jungle bars and couldn’t get himself out. He said the coach, a John Richter, was on the playgrounds, keeping an eye on the man until the police arrived.” Ramirez closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

“Go on,” Shelby said.

“I drove around to the back and called for some backup. That was when I saw him tangled in the monkey bars. He was screaming, ‘Michael Angelo.’ By the way, they don’t have any students named Michael Angelo at the school. When I got close to him and tried to calm him down, he came out of the bars like a crazy man, eyes wide and kind of foaming at the mouth. He bit me on the hand and, get this, today I find out that he has AIDS. Now I’m going to have to have tests…today…and every year for the next seven years. How do you think this is going to affect my home life?”

“You’re telling me that Feller has AIDS?” Shelby asked and sunk back into the chair.

“Yes sir, full-blown. Don’t that beat all? What a nightmare.”

“And you’ve been tested already?”

“Yes sir, they had me go by the hospital ’bout an hour ago. It’ll be tomorrow before they let me know anything. They said this test would most certainly be negative. I think they’re just being sure I don’t have it already, you know. The doctor said the ninety-day and six-month tests were the real important ones. Said if I’m negative then, probably I’m okay. The one-year test will be 99.9 percent final.”

Ramirez looked like he might cry. Shelby said, “I don’t think you have anything to be concerned about, Ramirez. What’d the doctors tell you?”

“They told me not to worry, that there was one chance in a million that he could pass the virus by biting me. Easy for them to say don’t worry when they weren’t the one that was bit.”

Ramirez’s jaws clenched and he swallowed hard before he continued. “Well anyway, he mounts me like a bull, strong and out of control. He takes me to the ground and I grab for anything I can. We were elbows and knees for a few minutes until I got hold of his hair and tried to rip his head off. That slowed him down for a second and then my backup got there and we beat him like a piñata. Didn’t slow him down any. He just kept dancing around, screaming for that Michael Angelo and then, like a rock, no warning at all, he just went limp. Into this coma. I don’t think we hit him that hard. Not on the head. You know…we know better.”

“Then what happened?”

“Paramedics took him to Ben Taub and that was it. Never heard another word out of him. After we dumped him at the hospital and filled out the paperwork, I went back out there and found his clothes and car ’bout a block from the school. I had the car impounded. That’s how we ID’d the perp. I got off about ten minutes later, gave the info to the next shift, and went home. Someone didn’t follow up with the paperwork so he was carried as a John Doe.”

When Shelby stood and shook Ramirez’s hand, he saw the bandage on the young patrolman’s right hand. Poor guy. “Thank you, Ramirez, I’m sure everything is okay. What little I know about this sort of thing is that it’s almost impossible to pass HIV through biting.”

When the door closed behind Ramirez it was quiet again, and the emotions of the last twenty-four hours flooded through Shelby’s body. Coupled with the flu and exhaustion, there was now an overriding sense of foreboding. When the phone rang, he stared at it through the fourth ring and was almost afraid to answer. It was the assistant chief and the news wasn’t good.

“Captain, the media is on this virus thing like ducks on a June bug. Get over to the Ben Taub. The hospital’s going to hold a press conference at six p.m. and I want you there.”

Shelby felt a chill settle around him as he filled in the assistant chief on what he suspected and about the call he had received on his car phone.

“You’d better choose your words carefully, Captain. Don’t give them anything you don’t have to. From what you’re telling me, I think we’re in a position where you and Ms. Kendrick could be in real danger. Let’s go ahead and tell the press we’ve had contact from a man who claims to be responsible for these acts of violence and that he said it’s being done for revenge. Word it any way you think will satisfy him. I’m not sure I want to answer the phone again.”

When Shelby stepped out the rear door of the department’s main building, the sky was turning a brilliant orange in the western sky. He looked at his watch. Five-thirty. He thought he’d drive to the hospital, do the news conference, fill Kendrick in, and then get a burger and go home to bed. For the first time in maybe ever, he would let the answering machine screen his calls.

Traffic was horrible. By the time he made the few blocks to Ben Taub, it was 6:00 p.m. and the press conference was underway.

“As of now, we’re looking at an unknown virus,” Salinas was saying. “We don’t know how it’s transmitted and we don’t have a prognosis as to its outcome. Not yet. At this time, we don’t feel there is anything for the general public to worry about. We do know that four of the men worked at the Johnson Space Center and tomorrow, Ms. Kendrick from the National Disease Control Agency in Atlanta, Audi Duke, who is with NASA, and Captain Shelby of the Houston Police Department will begin an investigation to determine any health risks at the Space Center. I see the captain has just arrived, so I’ll turn the meeting over to him at this time.”

Shelby suddenly felt very uncomfortable, though he had often faced TV cameras and reporters. Maybe it was the surroundings, a hospital rather than the usual dingy back alley where most of his interviews took place. Or maybe it was because he was so unsure of what this case would bring. Perhaps it was knowing that his own life was on the line. Whatever it was, he shuddered as he walked to the podium.

There were several people standing behind Dr. Salinas, who stepped back into the group to make room for Shelby at the row of microphones. Kendrick was standing near the back next to a tall man with stylishly long, graying hair. The man’s dark eyes were intent and he had a lean, hard look about him. All business, must be Duke. The man’s gray mustache made him look surly.

Kendrick had changed into a conservative dark blue suit, but still looked as if she could be on the cover of a fashion magazine. She smiled at him as he stepped in front of the cameras and he knew her life was on the line, just like his. There seemed no way out of this trap. Shelby realized that if Michelangelo could strike over a telephone, he could reach anyone, anytime, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to prevent it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ll make a brief statement, but I won’t answer any questions at this time,” Shelby said. “As I’m sure Dr. Salinas has already told you, we now have six white males who have been struck with some unusual virus. I cannot tell you anything about the medical facts or implications. I’ll have to leave that up to the doctors. However, I can tell you we are reasonably sure this disease is being intentionally transmitted.”

Shelby paused and waited for what he had just said to register. There was a stir, both from the group of people in front of him as well as the medical people behind him. I wish I’d had time to brief Salinas and Kendrick before the whole world finds out, he thought.

“Today, the Houston Police Department received a call from a man who has claimed responsibility for the transmission of this virus to these six victims. He said that he infected them in revenge for their actions. He did not elaborate. At this time we have classified these cases as attempted murder and will proceed accordingly. I have nothing further to say at this time, but you will be informed if there are any other developments.” Sure, when cows fly.

Shelby stepped away from the podium as a hundred questions were asked at once. He ignored the questions and the flashing strobes and turned to Dr. Salinas. “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to fill you in before all this. Can we find a room where we can have some privacy? Ms. Kendrick, will you and Mr. Duke please join us?”

Followed by Salinas, Kendrick, and Duke, Shelby pushed his way through the shouting, shoving mass of reporters. When the door slammed behind them, the roar of excitement dulled and, after a few steps down the hospital hall, the noise disappeared.

“Here, this way,” Salinas said. “We can use the physicians’ lounge.” He moved into the lead and the two men and Dr. Kendrick fell in behind him. They were silent and somber as they scurried to keep up with the fast-stepping doctor. Salinas stopped in front of a door and quickly pushed it open, then motioned for the trio to enter. He looked grim as he held the door for them. Kendrick was first, followed by Shelby, then Duke.

“Let’s sit over here,” Salinas said as he motioned to a table near the back of the room. Three other people in the room, a man and two women, dressed in lab coats each with a stethoscope hanging out of one of the pockets, looked up when they entered.

“Coffee?” Salinas pointed to a coffee machine in the corner. Shelby shook his head and had just sat when he heard Salinas’s pager beep. The doctor excused himself quickly and went to a phone mounted on the back wall. No one said a word, waiting for Salinas to return.

“Shelby, it’s for you,” Salinas announced.