Polar (Book 2): Polar Day (13 page)
“This is Jennifer?” Danny asked as he walked up to Tessa and stared at the still smoldering shell of a person on the sidewalk.
“Yes.”
The contents of Danny’s stomach raced up his throat. He turned away from the corpse and forced them back down. A veteran homicide detective didn't vomit at a crime scene no matter how grisly it was. But then, he usually didn't know the victims he found at such scenes. He heard his boss coming up behind him. Uncharacteristically silent, Jack couldn’t manage a one-liner or even a rant consisting of his customary expletives. The scene left him speechless.
Tessa gestured toward a thin black man sitting against the wall of the New Life Church of God. His skin was ashen and his teeth chattered as if he was frozen in spite of the fact that the boiling sun had brought the temperature to a record 95 degrees. A paramedic squatted beside the man and took his blood pressure.
“That's Jennifer's cameraman Robert Spencer,” Tessa said. “He said they came here to film a bit for a piece she was putting together on the fires and our stalled investigation. I couldn't get much out of him. The poor man is in shock.”
The paramedic removed the blood pressure cuff from Spencer's arm and mouthed “okay” to the detectives as he stood up and walked away from the witness. Danny ventured over and sat down next to Spencer against the wall.
“Mr. Spencer? I'm Detective Danny Fitzpatrick.”
“I know who you are. You found those women in the Arctic.”
“My fame precedes me. I was also a friend of Jennifer's. Did you two work together long?”
“Long enough. Jennifer was one of the best reporters to work with. She's not... she wasn't a diva.”
Danny smiled. “No, she wasn't. What can you tell me about what happened to her today?”
“Some piece of shit set her on fire and watched her burn. What do you think happened?”
“What can you tell me about the piece of shit?”
“Some batshit motherfucker who made me think I was batshit myself.”
“How so?”
“Because I couldn't see him. Neither could Jennifer. We heard him but we couldn't see anything. We just saw...”
“What'd you see?”
“Some kind of shadow. I don't know, man.” Spencer rubbed his eyes. “I still don't get it. Jennifer and I both heard him saying some creepy shit but we couldn't see him. Then next thing I knew she burst into flames.”
Spencer's shaking increased and he wrapped the blanket the paramedic had given him tighter across his shoulders.
“What was he saying?” Danny asked.
“I don't know. Some foreign language I guess. I couldn't understand a word of it.”
“Did it sound like anything familiar?”
Spencer shook his head. “Nothing I've ever heard. But all the while Jennifer was burning, he kept yelling . Then I heard him say some word like ‘stee’ and all of the sudden the fire just stopped. I never saw the son of a bitch.”
“Did you hear anyone else? Maybe he had someone with him helping him stay hidden?”
“Naw, it wasn't like that. It was just him. It was like magic or something. I don't know how he did it.” Spencer let out a deep breath and glanced up and down the street, where a crowd had now gathered. “This street was completely deserted when we got here. Nobody here but Jennifer and me. I tried to help her, I swear I did. But the flames were so goddamn hot I couldn't get near her. I didn't know what to do.”
“I don't think there was anything you could have done, Mr. Spencer. Did you get hurt?”
“I’ve got a few burns. Nothing bad.”
“Detective?”
Danny looked up to see the paramedic who had been monitoring Spencer standing over him.
“Yes?”
“Can I speak to you, please?”
Danny stood up and followed the paramedic a few feet away from Spencer.
“We need to take Mr. Spencer to the hospital. We're concerned about his mental state. He's been through a terrible shock.”
“You're concerned because he's saying he couldn't see the guy, right?”
“He said the assailant was invisible. We need to have him evaluated by a physician.”
“I understand. But you might want to evaluate me too because I think he's right. I think the guy was invisible when he did this.”
“Detective?”
Danny shook his head. “Never mind. I've got enough from Mr. Spencer for now. Go ahead and take him in.”
He returned to Jack and Tessa, who were talking with two uniformed officers.
“Don't tell me, let me guess,” Jack said. “He didn't see anyone even though he was right here with Jennifer when she burned to death.”
“You're right. He says he saw a shadow and he heard the guy chanting.”
“Chanting what?”
Danny shrugged. “He doesn't know. But he says it was another language, just like the kids at the baseball game said. He says he heard a word that sounded like “stee” just as the fire stopped.”
“Stee?”
“Something like that.”
Anthony Rizzo joined the group, leaving the medical examiner and her team to investigate the corpse. The forensic investigators had also arrived on the scene and were combing the sidewalk for evidence.
“Oh Christ I know what you're going to say too,” Jack said to Rizzo.
“Yeah, you probably do,” Rizzo replied. “No signs of an accelerant. Nothing combustible.”
“How is this son of a bitch doing this?” Jack asked. “It's like he's some kind of magician.”
“That might be worth looking into, sir,” Tessa said. “Maybe he's trained in magic tricks. He knows how to create illusions.”
“Aww Jesus.”
Danny remained silent, remembering the paramedic's reaction to Spencer's testimony. He couldn't say what he now knew to be true. This guy used magic, yes, but it was nothing close to the David Copperfield variety.
Jack raised his head and glanced around the street, pointing towards a nearby surveillance camera. “Maybe we can get something from that. Surely this guy isn't the goddamn invisible man walking down the street. And I don’t see how he could stand wearing a hoodie again and covering up in this heat today.” He wiped beads of sweat from his brow and gestured towards the ever-growing crowd of observers. “Otherwise let's just start canvassing. Somebody had to see something here.”
****
Danny sat at his desk and cursed himself repeatedly for ignoring Aleksei's suggestion of black magic as the cause of the fires. He had let Nechayev get under his skin enough to make him question his own instincts, a failure which may have resulted in Jennifer Higgin's absolutely horrific death. Instead of pursuing the idea that the murderer was using some sort of magic to burn people alive, Danny had spent weeks combing through old arson cases and digging up absolutely nothing. He may as well have been sitting around with his thumb up his ass.
That failure wouldn't happen again.
Tessa was with Anthony Rizzo in the conference room going through the files on Max Fugate, Nick Torrance, and Richard Phillips in desperation. Danny could see Jack on the phone in his office trying to convince the chief that he and his detectives had been doing everything humanly possible to solve the Fairbanks fire murders. The majority of the uniformed officers had long since gone home, replaced by the skeleton crew who worked the night shift. Danny was as alone as he was ever likely to get at the office.
He opened his desk drawer and pulled out the torn piece of paper he had scribbled the phone number on last month. He briefly wondered what time it was in Australia, but then realized he didn't give a rat's ass about interrupting Aleksei's sleep or lack thereof. As he fingered the paper, he was suddenly back at the Snow Creek resort, tied to the post of a bed and slowly freezing to death. He heard Aleksei's laughter as he shut the door on Danny and left him to his fate. He saw Aleksei smile, revealing the fangs that had dripped with the blood of countless young women.
“Goddammit, grow a pair, Fitzpatrick,” he said, thankful that no one was around to hear him talking to himself. Taking a deep breath, Danny swallowed his fear and punched the numbers into his phone. The phone rang and rang until he was about to hang up. He pulled the phone away from his ear when he heard the voice.
“Hello, Detective Fitzpatrick.”
Danny returned the phone to his ear. “How'd you know it was me?”
“Because you're the only person I gave the number to. Actually, you're the main reason I got the phone. I don't have much of an interest in talking on it.”
Danny was silent as the fear of the frigid and dark December pulsed through him.
“What can I do for you?” Aleksei asked. “How's the case?”
“What do you know about black magic?” Danny asked. “Or at least fire-starting magic?”
“Has there been another victim? I'm afraid I got a little bored and wasn't following along as closely. What have you and your colleagues been doing up there? It’s no surprise that most of them are simpletons but I know you're much sharper. Have your skills dulled? Or was it just me you were so diligent about?”
“Answer my question.”
“What was it again?”
“Tell me what you know about fire magic, asshole.”
“It's humorous that you're so rude when you're calling me for help.”
“Goddammit, Nechayev.”
“Oh, alright, alright. What can I tell you? I know that there are extremely powerful witches who have the ability to cast spells that create fire.”
“What about the ability to make themselves invisible?”
“I can't say I know anything about that, but with this kind of magic I wouldn't rule it out.”
“What do you mean ‘this kind of magic?’ What do you know about it?”
“I know it's very powerful. Which I believe I already said. And I've seen a witch like this in action.”
Danny scowled. Christ, this was like pulling teeth. He glanced in Jack's office and was relieved to see him still on the phone.
“Will you just tell me what you know, you son of a bitch?”
“When I first came to Alaska I met a man named Vasyl Dzubenko who ran a saloon called The Turnagain Arm. Do you know that area, the Turnagain Arm?”
“I've heard of it. Tell me about the saloon keeper.”
“Fine. I worked for Mr. Dzubenko and learned English while in his employ. Unbeknownst to me he was a witch whose family had power that went back centuries. He knew about me and my kind and he tried to use his magic to kill me.”
“By setting you on fire?”
“Yes.”
“If only he had been successful,” Danny said. “Think how many lives would have been saved.”
“He came very close to being successful. But fortunately for me I had an idiot in my corner who killed him before he could burn me to a crisp.”
“Wait a minute,” Danny said, a thought tickling his memory. “What did you say his name was?”
“Vasyl Dzubenko.”
“Was he Russian too?”
“Yes. Although, he called himself Ukrainian. Why?”
Danny rubbed his forehead. What was it about that name? “No reason. So how did he do it? How did he start the fire?”
“With a spell. He called upon some god of black magic and started chanting. Next thing I knew my feet and legs were on fire.”
“He was chanting? What was he chanting?”
“I don't remember. I was slightly panicked at the time since I had flames dancing up my legs.”
“How do you say stop in Russian?” Danny asked, changing gears.
“Stop.”
“Yeah? So it’s the same word?”
“Close enough. Why?”
“What about Ukrainian? Anything that sounds like stee?”
“I'm not overly familiar with that pedestrian language. But possibly Stiy.”
“Does that mean stop?”
“Yes.”
“What else can you tell me about this Dzubenko?”
“Not much. He had a grimoire he used for his magic.”
“A grim what?”
“A grimoire.”
“What the hell is that?”
“A book of spells. From the little I saw of it, I’d say Dzubenko's book went way back. This kind of magic is very old.”
“Can people learn this magic?”
“You mean people who aren't witches? No. You have to be born with that kind of power.”
“When did all this happen? When did you work for Dzubenko?”
“After I left St. Petersburg. During the building of the Alaskan railroad.”
“How the hell do I know when you left St. Petersburg? And I sure as hell don’t know when the Alaskan rail was built. You want to give me a year?”
“It was 1917.”
“And you say Dzubenko was killed? Did he have any children?”
“No, but he had a wife. I let her live because killing her would have been an inconvenience for me. Why do you ask about children?”
“I guess I'm just wondering if this witch could have passed on his talent.”
“His wife could have been pregnant at the time her husband died, I don’t know. I never saw her again so I can't help you there.” Aleksei paused. “Do you think you have a witch on the loose in Fairbanks?”
“I have no idea. I know I've got some kind of monster on the loose. A witch makes as much sense as anything else.”
“You know the whole idea of witches wearing black hats and riding on brooms is nonsense, right? If you're hunting for a witch, that's not what you're looking for.”
“Yeah, I think I can figure that out. Jesus Christ.”
“Just trying to help.”
“Believe it or not, Nechayev, you have been very helpful.” Danny saw Jack hanging up the phone and getting up from his chair. He'd be on his way out here, no doubt.
“You'll let me know what you find, won’t you?”
“You can read about it online, I'm sure,” Danny said.
He disconnected the call without saying goodbye and put his phone back in his pocket and the slip of paper back in his drawer. He didn't want to have to explain his latest lead. And he needed time to process it, anyway. There was something about the name Dzubenko, he knew it. He just had to figure out what that something was.
****