Nemesis: The Final Case of Eliot Ness (21 page)

Ness eyed Merylo carefully, and for the first time the detective hesitated before answering. Ness suspected he was considering whether it would be better to say he didn't know, and risk looking stupid, or to speculate, and risk being found wrong. "I used to think he was with the mob. But now I think it may be some kinda... sex thing."

"Because one of the victims had his genitalia removed."

"Yes."

"But the others did not."

"True, but he still might-"

"And there's no sign that any of the corpses were sexually molested or penetrated, correct?"

"How'd you know that?"

"Because I stayed up late reading the files. Haven't slept in more days than I care to remember. But I don't think this is a sex crime."

"The killer totally emasculated-"

"Some of the victims. Not all. And we have victims of both genders. So I have to ask, Detective Merylo-is this conclusion of yours really based on the evidence? Or have your many years working on the vice squad preconditioned you to find sexual perversion even where it may not exist?"

Merylo's neck stiffened. "You asked me what I thought, sir. I told you."

"So you did."

Zalewski chipped in. "Doctor Pearce thinks we should talk to an alienist."

Ness turned his head slightly. This was this first thing he'd heard in the entire conversation that he didn't already know. "Really?"

"Yeah. That's some kinda doctor that reads minds or-"

"I know what an alienist is. I studied psychoanalysis in college. How long ago did he make this recommendation?"

Merylo and Zalewski exchanged a glance. "Several murders back," Zalewski answered.

Ness pursed his lips. "Tell the doctor we want to talk to his alienist. As soon as possible. Did you know Pearce is planning a seminar?"

"About what?"

"About the murders. He's bringing some of the best forensic scientists in the country in to examine the evidence and see if they can tell us anything we don't already know. I plan to attend." He paused. "I think it might be a good idea if you boys did, too."

"Does that mean we're still on the case?"

Ness ignored the question. "You mentioned Andrassy and Polillo. What about the other victims? Have you ID'd them yet?"

"No."

"Do you think you can?"

"Probably not. But I haven't stopped trying. And I never will."

Ness laid a hand on each of the men's shoulders. "That's what I wanted to hear. Now listen to me, boys. I'm not an easy man to work for. I know that. I demand long hours. Hard work. I demand that you keep your nose clean."

"We're clean," Merylo grunted.

"I know that," Ness interrupted. "If you weren't, you wouldn't still be on the force. But things change sometimes, when the going gets tough. I need your word that you won't bring disrespect to my office."

Ness turned his eyes upon both men. They looked back at him.

"You have our word," Merylo said quietly.

"Good. There's just one other thing I demand from my people. Results."

Merylo held up his hands. "Look, we've been killing ourselves on this case, chasing our tails, doing everything possible. But I can't make any guarantees."

"I heard the same thing about Capone, back in Chicago. He's too big. You can't bring him down. But we did. And we'll get this monster too, understand?"

"Yes, sir!" Zalewski said enthusiastically. Merylo said nothing.

"Good. Then I would be very much honored if you two gentlemen would become my primary field lieutenants on this case. You will work directly for me. I'll arrange everything with Chief Matowitz. You report to me, or if I'm unavailable, to my assistant. And no one else. Not even your buddies on the force. Not even the press."

"I thought you liked the press," Merylo said.

"No, my friend, I use the press. Those are two totally different things. At any rate, that's my job, not yours. I want no leaks."

Zalewski appeared flush with excitement. "Does this mean we're going to be Untouchables?"

Ness thought for a moment. That was almost a good idea. But Merylo was too well-known, too high-profile. All he could perform were official duties. What if he had a group of people out of the spotlight? People who could go beyond official duties...

Ness smiled. "You're already untouchable, officers, as far as I'm concerned. Now we've got to be unbeatable."

"Yes, sir!" Zalewski actually saluted.

"All right then. Get to work. I'll expect a report at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. And every morning thereafter until this murderer is caught. I'll be formulating a plan, and as soon as I complete it, I'll give you specific instructions. I will expect to see them implemented expediently and effectively. So you'd best get started."

He watched as the two men left the office. He hoped he wasn't making a mistake. In the past, he'd always obtained the best results by creating his own team, rather than adopting the men already in place. But he needed men with police experience, real crime-solving skills. With Capone, they already knew who was behind the crimes; they just needed the evidence to bring him down. In this case, they had no idea who-or what-they were fighting.

He had spoken rashly to the press. If he didn't deliver, they would eat him alive like the piranhas they were. And there were other considerations...

Involuntarily, his mind returned to the postcard he had received. He had not turned it in to the police, nor had he given it to the Bertillon department for analysis.

It was possible it was a fake. One of the nuts all this press coverage was sure to shake off the tree.

But what if it wasn't? What if the killer saw this as a personal grudge match? A battle between him and the Fed who supposedly brought down Capone?

The man who wrote that postcard knew where he lived. And Edna.

He returned to his desk. He had implemented the first part of his assault on the so-called Torso Murderer. Now it was time to implement Phase Two.

It occurred to Merylo, once again, that he should have requested that this meeting take place somewhere other than the coroner's office. The front lobby was too busy and Dr. Pearce's office was too small, so the only logical place to have the meeting was in the autopsy room. And the fact that Merylo had been here more than a dozen times on various cases had not in the slightest altered the fact that the place gave him the heebie-jeebies. Happily, there were no corpses currently on display, but there had been before, and there would be again. He couldn't help but look at each of the compartment doors that lined the south wall and wonder whether there was a headless body hidden behind it.

Merylo had pushed the operating table to one side and arranged some folding chairs in the center of the room. Zalewski was seated beside him. "Sir?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think they're coming?"

"Yeah."

"They're late."

"Well, they're important people."

"Which ones? The doctors, or the safety director?"

"All of them."

"In that order?"

Merylo allowed himself a thin smile. "No comment."

Through the glass-windowed door Merylo saw the good doctor Arthur Pearce enter the room with another man of the same height but considerably slimmer build. He wore glasses, thick ones, and he was clutching a black leather bag. He was wearing a checked suit, too big for him, and even more notably, no hat.

"Kraut," Zalewski whispered under his breath. "Probably a hebe, too."

"What difference does it make?"

"I'm just sayin'-"

"I haven't heard any characters named 'Zalewski' on
Jack, Armstrong lately."

"I'm just sayin'. I never cared much for Krauts."

The two men entered the room. Eliot Ness was just a few steps behind them.

"Detectives," Dr. Pearce began, "let me introduce you to my colleague, Dr. Ernst Hunstein."

The two detectives rose, but the new doctor did not extend a hand.

"I believe you've already met the safety director."

Merylo tipped his hat slightly. "We've had the pleasure, yes."

"We are most fortunate to have the opportunity to consult with Dr. Hunstein. He has only in the past year emigrated from Germany."

Zalewski gave Merylo a decided "told-you-so" look.

"I'm surprised you could leave the Fatherland," Zalewski said. "I hear most of you people like to stay home."

"I love my home," Hunstein said. His voice was quiet, and between that and the thick accent, he was difficult to understand. "But I now reside in New York. Given the changes of late, the Nuremberg Laws against my people, I thought it best to leave as have so many others."

"You talking about Happy Hitler?"

Hunstein's eyes narrowed. "That is not how we refer to him in Germany. Are you familiar with the actions of the Fuhrer?"

Zalewski hedged. "I saw him in a newsreel once. This summer, at the Berlin Olympics."

"Ah. Of course. Your Jesse Owens performed very well. He won four gold medals, I believe. Hitler was not happy about that."

"He probably didn't like seein' his medals leave Germany."

Hunstein fingered his glasses. "I do not believe that was the problem."

"Didn't Hitler get ninety-nine percent of the vote in the elections?"

Hunstein sighed. "That is what they say."

Merylo figured this was a good time to intervene. "Dr. Pearce says you're some kind of head doctor."

"I am an alienist, yes. I studied under Dr. Freud himself."

"And he thinks you might be able to help us on this case."

"And you are skeptical of this, no?"

Merylo's head pulled back. How had he known that? "Well... it isn't how we usually go about our police work."

"Perhaps it should be."

"The tried-and-true methods-"

"Have not caught this criminal. Possibly if you had brought me in sooner, the killer would not have remained at large for so long."

Merylo did his best to hide his irritation. "Yeah, and possibly if the moon were made of green cheese we'd all be fat and happy, but who's to say?"

Dr. Hunstein bowed his head. "Indeed. It is all a matter of speculation."

"I don't mean to be rude," Merylo said, "but we've got a lot of work to do, plus reporters checking up on every move we make, so if you don't have anything for us-"

"I have taken the liberty of reviewing the police documents my colleague Dr. Pearce was able to obtain from Chief Matowitz and the safety director. I have spent the past three days doing so."

Three days? That slowed Merylo down. "Then you know that we've done a lot of work, but haven't found information that would tell us anything useful about this killer."

"I disagree entirely. I was able to discern a great deal from reading your files. Most interesting."

Merylo's eyebrows crinkled. "You're going to stand there and tell me you know who the killer is?"

"No. I cannot tell you
who
the killer is. But I can tell you
what he is."

"With respect, Doc," Zalewski interjected, "we know what he is. A cold-blooded killer."

"No, sir. You do not know what he is. And that is why you have not caught him." He paused. "Have either of you any familiarity with the work being done in Vienna on the psychosexual aspects of crime?"

Merylo thought back to his experience on the vice squad. "Are you saying these are sex crimes? 'Cause I also-"

"Not exactly. I see no evidence of a sexual motivation. But an investigation into the likely sexual history of the killer yields much information about his psyche."

"And why is that useful?"

Dr. Pearce answered for him. "This is what I was trying to explain to you before. If you know what he is, and why he does what he does, then you can anticipate what he might do next. And if you can do that, you just might be able to catch him."

"Ask yourself," Hunstein continued, "what could produce such hostility, such anger, as to make a man capable of committing the atrocities that have been perpetrated on these victims?"

"Merylo thinks they all worked together on some scam," Zalewski volunteered, to Merylo's dismay. "Or maybe they were all involved with the same woman."

"I think that unlikely," Hunstein replied. "I think it much more plausible that the killer's psyche was scarred by a traumatic incident, or a series of incidents, in his childhood."

"Now I have a real problem with that," Ness said, scooting forward in his chair. For the first time, he seemed interested in the conversation. Merylo couldn't help but wonder why. "Lots of people have bad childhoods. Doesn't make them repeat killers."

Hunstein lifted an eyebrow. "Indeed?"

"Gosh, I work almost every day with troubled boys, in my new Boys Clubs, or in my Boy Scout troop. Many of them have come from seriously troubled homes. But they're not crazy. They just need a good role model. Someone to show them the way."

"I think perhaps," Hunstein suggested gently, "that you do not understand the magnitude of the childhood trauma I am describing."

"Like you think the killer witnessed a murder or something?"

"Perhaps. But in our experience, it is more likely something of a sexual nature. It is most probable that your killer was abused as a child."

"Abused?" Zalewski screwed up his face. "You mean, like slapped around? 'Cause my ma used to-"

"I mean sexually abused. Repeatedly."

"Oh." He fell silent. "By who?"

"In most cases, a close friend or relative. Probably a male, since most of his victims have been male. A father. Grandfather. Friendly uncle or neighbor. It doesn't matter. But this killer exhibits all the pathology of a mind twisted by sexual abuse, deranged by the conflicted feelings arising from being abused by people he adored."