Faustus Resurrectus (8 page)

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Authors: Thomas Morrissey

Tags: #Urban Life, #Fantasy, #Fiction

BOOK: Faustus Resurrectus
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Beats the hell out of pouring mojitos in midtown.

Joann met him at the rear service gate, near the Seaside Pavilion. She was dressed in dark jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, with a rough plastic pistol on her belt. Donovan recognized it as a taser. “Hey, babe,” he said, embracing her. “Are you okay? You look really fried.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You know what I mean.”

She nodded. “Dad was right—the mayor is going to make his opinion about Dinkins known tomorrow. It’ll force Raphael to take me off the case and give it to Jessie Parker.”

Jessie Parker, Donovan knew, was another rising attorney at the DA’s office. “Ow.”

“Yeah. So this is, I think, my last shot at Charming Man.”

“Charming Man here? How? Why?”

“After you told me about the Capricorn victim being found in the Dinkins Shelter, I started thinking. I talked to Frank, and we agreed it was possible the location was chosen because the killer was familiar with it, which meant Charming Man and Mister X
could
be the same person. He agreed to let me speak with Mabel Muglia at the Church of the Transfiguration. I showed her the pictures we got of Charming Man off the shelter camera, and she said it
could
be him.”

“That’s a lot of ‘could.’”

“It’s all I have. Frank is still scrambling around trying to get help for this, so he has no problem with me being here. He found the Aquarius victim two days ago, and we’ve been staking out this place since. We’ve had his partner, Josh Braithwaite, with us up to now, but he couldn’t make it tonight.”

“So he asked me.”

“You
and
Father Carroll.”

Donovan blinked. “Father Carroll is here?”

“They’re both in the security office. Are you ready for this?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, this isn’t a crime scene that you go to even though you’re high. This is serious. Are you ready?”

Donovan examined her face and body language. The stress he saw made him more determined to help. “Absolutely.”

***

Not as big or elaborate as a Sea World, the New York Aquarium is part of a chain of parks run by the New York Zoological Society. Although Donovan hadn’t been here in years—the Aquatheater and the
Alien Stingers
buildings were both new to him—he had fond memories from when he was younger. The first motorcycle ride he’d taken on the back of his uncle’s Harley-Davidson had been to Coney Island; they’d come here to see the sharks.

Joann led him through the aquarium to the entrance hall. Inside, the lighting was low and the air cool. Tanks set into the walls glowed with artificial illumination and natural colors. To their left, a series of large windows revealed a lively collection of reef fish darting about the coral. Ahead was the security office door and the public entrance to the grounds.

The security office was a videogamer’s dream—small, with everything reachable while sitting at the monitor console. The console monitored a half-dozen television screens that showed the park’s attractions and various sites. Gray carpet lined the walls as it had in the entry hall.

Fullam turned from the monitors and extended his hand as they entered. “Mister Graham. Glad you could make it.”

“Sergeant. Call me Donovan.” Donovan noted that, instead of his black priest attire, Father Carroll wore a dark blue chamois shirt and dark blue slacks, but no collar. “Working undercover, I see.” The priest smiled tightly and also shook his hand. Donovan looked at Fullam. “We’re it?”

“My partner couldn’t make it tonight so, yeah, just us four. You’ve been capable so far. Can you handle it?”

Donovan glanced at Joann. “Yeah, I can.”

“Good.” Fullam gestured to a map of the aquarium on one wall. “Without manpower we can’t watch every access point into the aquarium, so you, Maurice and I will be staked out at various points inside the grounds, the most likely sites for the murder. Joann will be Big Sister in here, keeping an overview. We, the curator and the cleaning crew are the only ones who are on the grounds right now. Once they’re gone, we wait.”

Donovan looked at the office wall, at a list of hazardous fish and the immediate medical treatment for each. “He’s got a hell of a choice, but why here? Why tonight?”

“We don’t have many options.” Fullam eyed him. “I mean, you could be right. He could just stab someone with a plastic fish in the toy department of Macy’s, or in a back alley somewhere.”

“Suffering seems to be a key in these murders, as does a certain sense of the theatrical,” the priest added. “Stabbing someone with a toy lacks the dramatic flair of, say, attacking piranha.”

“Not perfect circumstances,” Joann said, her eyes going hopefully to the monitor screens, “but at least straws to grasp.”

***

The curator, Dick Katz, left first, and the cleaning crew finished at nine o’clock. Donovan and Father Carroll stayed out of sight in the aquarium entrance hall while Fullam escorted everyone out.

“You seem pretty calm,” Donovan observed, idly tapping on the glass of a tank. “Don’t you think anything’s going to happen?”

“It may or may not. The Lord has a plan which we don’t always understand.”

“So if a murder happens tonight, it’s God’s will?” Donovan frowned. “God sanctions murder? That sounds kind of harsh.”

“Allow me to re-phrase: I think people act in ways that don’t honor God, but may be necessary to His plan. Since we can’t know all the designs of that plan, all we can do is follow our faith and believe we are doing right.”

“Hmm. Sounds like a bit of a cop-out.”

“Cop-out assumes there is a knowable answer. There is not, not in this lifetime.” Father Carroll smiled. “We do the best we can. The rest is in God’s hands. Once you accept that, life loses much of its anxiety.”

“If you say so. I’d rather keep things in
my
hands, and not bother Him.”

Fullam appeared and motioned them to follow him. “There are pretty much three places to commit the Pisces murder in here,” he said. “The Shark Tank,
Alien Stingers
, and the blue-ringed octopus. If we focus our efforts there, maybe we can let him in, but not out.”

He led them through the plaza, past the penguins and the sea otters, and descended stone steps that led into the “underwater viewing” section of the Sea Cliffs. Inside, the exhibit wound beneath and behind the outside cliffs in a high, wide tunnel. To their right the walls were dominated by thick slabs of glass that served as viewing windows into enclosures of the penguins, sea otters, fur seals, sea lions and walruses.

Cute,
Donovan thought, watching small furry animals swim and frolic.

The left side had dozens of pictures of animals, fish and seabirds as well as maps and a few interactive exhibits. A life-size replica of a walrus sat in the middle of one section—Donovan was surprised how big it was—while another section had a model of a killer whale’s head rising from the floor.

“The octopus tanks are over here,” Fullam said, leading them past glass tanks filled with colorful sea horses. Donovan paused to look at them and felt an odd sensation. He shook it off and followed the others to stand in front of two windows that revealed a large rock wall. Plaques in front of the tanks identified the species of octopi, but the one that interested them was
hapalochlaena maculosa
, the lesser blue-ringed octopus.

“This may be our murder weapon,” the sergeant said.

The creature was small, its body about three inches long with an arm span twice that. Donovan skimmed the information and learned that the blue-ringed octopus is reported to be the most poisonous of the cephalopods. Normally grayish-beige, the octopus has light brown patches that darken and show bright blue rings when it’s irritated or threatened. It secretes two poisons, the more dangerous being a neuromuscular venom that paralyzes all the muscles of the body, including the lungs and heart.

“Maurice, why don’t you stay here?” Fullam asked. “If our man is going to use this thing, he’ll have to get inside the staff area, which is only accessible over there.” He nodded at a door marked “Authorized Personnel Only.” “Are you okay with that?”

“Of course.” A seal torpedoed at one of the glass walls, only to turn away at the last instant with a blink of his huge black eyes and a flick of his flippers. “At least I have interesting company.”

“Can I make a suggestion?” The sergeant indicated at a recessed corner. “Pick a spot where no one can see you on first entrance. We have no real certainty how, when or if this will happen, so…”

“Best to be cautious. I understand. God watch over you, gentlemen.”

“You, too.”

Donovan followed Fullam out.

***

“You ever been on stakeout before?”

Donovan shook his head.

“You want
Alien Stingers
or the Shark Tank?”

“Makes no difference to me. Wherever I’ll do the most good.”

“Take
Alien Stingers
,” Fullam suggested. “It might keep you awake. Could be a long night.”

“You don’t think anything is going to happen?”

“It could happen here, it could happen tonight, it could happen tomorrow or somewhere else. This is a pretty good guess for
my
case. Your fiancée probably has the right expression for hers: ‘grasping at straws.’”

“She told you we’re engaged?”

“I’m a detective. I figured it out when I saw the ring.” Fullam looked at him, cop eyes tempered with amusement. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. You don’t think Mister X and Charming Man are the same person?”

“I don’t know enough to make a guess, so I won’t.” Fullam scratched his neck. “It seems like a long shot to me.”

Donovan gestured around them. “What do you think the odds are of something happening tonight?”

“No idea. Frankly—and no offense to your fiancée, I understand she’s got a lot riding on the Dinkins Shelter case—I hope nothing does happen tonight. Tomorrow I’ll have Josh and maybe one or two other detectives to help. I’ll feel a lot better with them having my back rather than two civilians and an ADA. Again, no offense.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m not high tonight.”

Fullam grunted.

“Seriously,” Donovan went on, “I had no idea I was going to go to a crime scene that night. Believe me, I never would have smoked or had anything to drink if I’d known.”

“Well, that’s why you have to be ready all the time in this work: you never know when you’re in for a surprise.”

Before Donovan could answer him, Fullam’s radio beeped.


Frank, I’ve got Mister Katz on the line
,” Joann said. “
Apparently one of the cleaning crew left some keys here. Mister Alcantarilla was able to get Katz before he got too far and asked if they could come back.

“Case in point.” Fullam shook his head and lifted the radio to his mouth. “All right, I’ll go let him in. Tell him to meet me at the back gate.”


Check. Also, before we get started, I want to hit the ladies’ room.

“Fine. Let me know when you’re back.” He clipped the radio to his belt and turned to Donovan. “Anything else?”

“Do you want me to come with?”

Fullam shook his head. “This will go faster if I do it alone—I’ll get them in and out. Take the
Alien Stingers
building—the Sea Wasp set-up is a lot like the octopus one. After I let Katz and Alcantarilla out I’ll take a spot by the Aquatheater and watch the Shark Tank.”

“Got it.”

“If you see anything, let me or Joann know immediately. I appreciate your help, but this is something for professionals to handle.”

“I understand.”

“Okay. Stay in touch. Like I said, this could be a long night.”

SEVEN

PISCES

“Y
ou won’t have any trouble getting into the aquarium now,” Dick Katz said. “You can let us go.”

He and Ben Alcantarilla sat tied together in the back of the Alcantarilla Cleaning Experts truck. Valdes crouched beside them, holding the cell phone for the curator to speak into. A single overhead bulb illuminated the truck’s cargo area. The giant lurked on the edge of the light, a nightmare emerged from under the bed.

Valdes snapped the cell phone closed. “We may need help with other things.”

“Don’t you animal rights people have some fur coats to throw paint on? We at the Zoological Society give our animals the finest care! There’s no need to set them free!”

The giant snorted. “Animals? That’s not why—”

“Coeus.” Valdes shot him a warning look. “Animal Freedom Fighters believes
any
imprisonment of animals is wrong. As one of the animal oppressors, you
have
to help us liberate them.”

“And then you’ll kill us!”

“The police lied to make you more afraid, more easily manipulated according to their whims.” Valdes showed him a gentle smile. “I’m no murderer. In fact, I’m…a judge.”

“A judge? Please, Your Honor,” Alcantarilla pleaded. “Don’t hurt me. I just clean the aquarium. Sometimes I even sneak food to the penguins when no one’s looking.” His eyes darted to Coeus, whose bowed head scraped the truck’s ceiling. “I love animals,” he sobbed. “Really, I do. Don’t kill me. Please.”

“Do what I tell you,” Valdes said, “and I won’t.” He slid open the little door between the truck’s back and its cab. “Let’s head out, Lude. To the back gate.” He handed the security pass card he’d taken from Katz’s pocket through the slot. “This will raise the security gate in the parking lot.”

“Yes, sir, Mister Valdes, sir!” The chubby girl handled the card like the sole valentine she’d gotten in third grade. “I’ll get us there right away.” She tugged the “Alcantarilla Cleaning Experts” baseball cap over her greasy blonde hair and seized the steering wheel in a death grip. “You can count on me!”

***

Donovan crossed the little wooden bridge above the pond outside the
Alien Stingers
building and stepped inside. The lighting in here was as low as it had been at the Sea Cliffs; enough illumination to see but not enough to startle the fish.
Alien Stingers
was all about jellyfish, anemones and corals, set in a hall with an unworldly, almost psychedelic feel. Bright, fluorescent backdrops highlighted towers of water while translucent creatures drifted among glistening silver bubbles. The floor, walls and ceiling of the room were black, intensifying the colors and making Donovan feel like he ought to smoke a joint before going any further.

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