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162 Chapter Fifty-Nine
My phone rang early in the morning and I snatched it up. It was Kyle. In his
slow and deliberate voice, he told me that Daniel and Charles had disappeared
the previous night. He was furious at his agents. I'd never heard him so
angry. So far, no murders had been reported in and around New Orleans. About
six that morning, the magicians had showed up at their house in the Garden
District. Where had they been all night? What had happened? Something had. I
stayed in Washington that day, still recuperating from the cellulitis. I
studied Daniel and Charles and wrote a preliminary profile on them to compare
with the one being done in Quantico. The first important bit of information
was that the magicians had definitely performed in Savannah and Charlotte on
the nights of the murders. I was working with a couple of techies in Quantico
and they not only matched up the timing of the magicians' tour with about half
of the murders, but verified that Daniel and Charles had definitely performed
in those cities, and were there when the murders had taken place. Another
useful nugget was that the tigers traveled with Daniel and Charles only for
bookings that lasted at least a week. The magicians were scheduled to perform
in New Orleans for the next three weeks. They also owned a house there, in the
Garden District. I shared what I had found with Quantico and they put it into
the file they were amassing. I also faxed everything to Jamilla Hughes in San
Francisco. She was trying her best to get down to New Orleans, but her boss
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hadn't made a final decision yet.
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I put in another call to Kyle on the matter. He hemmed and hawed, but finally
promised to see if he could get Inspector Hughes sprung for a few days. After
all, it had started with her case. I was becoming frustrated at home. I felt
as if I were on a stakeout in my own bedroom - with nothing to observe
firsthand. The consolation was that I was with little Alex for long patches of
the day, and that I got to see more of Damon and Jannie. But I was feeling a
little like the forgotten man on the murder case. I went to see Dr Prahbu at
St Anthony's that afternoon. The doctor examined me, then reluctantly gave me
clearance to go back to work. He told me to take it easy for the next few
days. 'How did you get those bites?' he asked. 'You never told me, Detective.'
'Yes, I did,' I said. 'Vampires in North Carolina.' I thanked the doctor for
his help, then went home to pack for the trip to New Orleans. I was a little
unsteady, but I couldn't wait to get there. Nana didn't bother to give me the
business when I left Washington this time. She was angry because I'd been so
ill from the infected bites. I flew into New Orleans International Airport
that afternoon, then I took an old yellow cab to the Big Easy. A message was
waiting at the front desk of my hotel, the Dauphine Orleans. I opened the
small envelope hesitantly, but it was good news. Inspector Hughes was on her
way to New Orleans. The message was classic. It was pure Jamilla: I'm coming
to New Orleans, and they're going down. Don't doubt it for a second.
164 Chapter Sixty
T amilla and I met up at the Dauphine Hotel that night. She was | decked out
in a black leather jacket, blue jeans, a white pocket-T. She looked rested and
ready for anything; I didn't feel so bad myself. We had supper together, steak
and eggs and beer, in the dining room. As always I enjoyed her company. We
made each other laugh. At ten-thirty we drove over to Howl. Daniel and Charles
had shows scheduled at eleven and one. And then? Maybe they had planned
another clever disappearing act. We were pumped to take them down.
Unfortunately, we still needed concrete evidence that they were our killers.
There were more than two hundred agents and New Orleans police involved in the
case. Something had to break. Presumably, Daniel and Charles would have to
feed soon. It was a Friday night and Howl was almost full when we got there.
Loud music played from speakers that seemed to be everywhere in the ceiling
and walls. The crowd was mostly young and restless, drinking beer, smoking,
dirty dancing. Several Goths were mixed in with the more clean-cut college
kids. The two groups leered at one another and the atmosphere was charged. A
photographer from Offbeat magazine crouched in front of the stage, waiting for
the show to begin. Jamilla and I sat down at one of the small tables and
ordered Jax beers. There were at least a dozen FBI agents in the club. Kyle
was outside in a surveillance car. He had been inside the night before, but
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it was hard for Kyle to blend in with a mostly young, hip crowd. He looked too
much like a cop. The back of my throat was already beginning to burn from the
smoke and the heavy perfume in the air. A gulp of beer soothed the gullet
somewhat. My arm and hand still ached some from the bites. My head was clear,
though; I definitely felt a lot better than I had. I liked having Jamilla
around again. She gave good counsel. 'Kyle has a six-team surveillance on the
magicians around the clock/I told her.'They won't lose them again. Kyle
guarantees it.' 'The FBI thinks they're definitely the killers?'she asked.'No
doubt about it? Lock 'em up, throw away the key?' 'Some doubt I suppose, but
not much. You never know exactly what Kyle is thinking,'! told her.'But yes, I
think he believes they are. The techies at Quantico do. So do I.' She studied
me over the lip of her b ottle of Jax. 'Sounds like the two of you are pretty
tight, huh?' I nodded. 'We've worked a lot of cases together in the past few
years. Our success rate is good. I can't say that I really know him.' 'I've
never had much luck working with the FBI,' she said. 'That's just me though.'
'Part of my job is to make sure police relations with the Bureau run smoothly
in DC. Kyle is definitely smart. He's just hard to read at times.' She sipped
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her beer slowly. 'Unlike somebody else at this table.' 'Unlike two somebodies [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]