Kovacliska - Ashes To Ashes Part 6

"Not at all," Quinn said with blank innocence. "I'm sorry if youmisunderstood me. We need all the pieces of the puzzle we can get inorder to form a clear picture of things, that's all. You understand."

n.o.ble looked unhappy.

In Quinn's experience, the parents of murder victims tended to camp outat the police department, demanding answers, constantly underfoot of thedetectives. After the description Walsh had given of Bondurant, Quinnhad expected to see the man throwing his weight around city hall like amad bull. But Peter Bondurant had reached out and touched the director of the FBI, called out his personal attorney, and stayed home.

"Peter Bondurant is one of the finest men I know," n.o.ble declared.

"I'm sure Agent Quinn didn't mean to imply otherwise, Edwyn," the mayorsaid, patting her husband's arm.

The lawyer's attention remained on Quinn. "Peter was a.s.sured you're thebest man for this job."

"I'm very good at what I do, Mr. n.o.ble," Quinn said. "One of the reasonsI'm good At my job is that I'm not afraid to do my job. I'm sure Mr.Bondurant will be glad to hear it."

He left it at that. He didn't want to make enemies of Bondurant's people. Offend a man like Bondurant and he'd find himself called on thecarpet before the Bureau's Office of Professional Responsibility at thevery least. On the other hand, after having Peter Bondurant jerk him outhere like a dog on a leash, he wanted it made clear he wouldn't bemanipulated.

"We're running short on time, people. Let's take our seats and getstarted," the mayor announced, herding the men toward the conferencetable like a first-grade teacher with a pack of little boys.

She stood at the political end of the table as everyone fell into rank,and drew breath to speak just as the door opened again and four more people walked in.

"Ted, we were about to start without you." The mayor's doughy facecreased with disapproval at his lack of punctuality.

"We've had some complications." He strode across the room directlytoward Quinn. "Special Agent Quinn. Ted Sabin, Hennepin County attorney.

I'm glad to meet you."

Quinn rose unsteadily to his feet. His gaze glanced off the man'sshoulder to the woman trailing reluctantly behind him. He mumbledan-adequate reply to Sabin, shaking the county attorney's hand. Amustached cop stepped up and introduced himself. Kovac. The nameregistered dimly. The pudgy guy with them introduced himself and saidsomething about having once heard Quinn speak somewhere.

".. . And this is Kate Conlan with our victim/witness program," Sabinsaid. "You may-"

"We've met," they said in unison.

Kate looked Quinn in the eye for just a moment because it seemedimportant to do so, to recognize him, acknowledge him, but not react.

Then she glanced away, stifling the urge to sigh or swear or walk out ofthe room.

She couldn't say she was surprised to see him. There were only eighteenagents a.s.signed to Investigative Support's Child Abduction/ SerialKiller Unit. Quinn was the current poster boy for CASKU, and s.e.xualhomicide was his specialty. The odds had not been in her favor, and herluck today was for s.h.i.t. h.e.l.l, she should have expected to see himstanding in the mayor's conference room. But she hadn't.

"You've worked together?" Sabin said, not quite certain whether heshould be pleased or disappointed.

An awkward silence hung for a second or three. Kate sank into a chair.

"Uh-yes," she said. "It's been a long time."

Quinn stared at her. No one took him by surprise. Ever. He'd spent alifetime building that level of control. That Kate Conlan could walk inthe door and tilt the earth beneath his feet after all this time did not sit well. He ducked his head and cleared his throat. "Yeah. You're missed, Kate."

By whom? she wanted to ask, but instead she said, "I doubt it. TheBureau is like the Chinese Army: The personnel could march into the seafor a year and there'd still be plenty of warm bodies to fill theposts."

Oblivious of the discomfort at the other end of the table, the mayorbrought the meeting to order. The press conference was less than an houraway. The politicians needed to get their ducks in a row. Who wouldspeak first. Who would stand where. Who would say what. The cops combedtheir mustaches and drummed their fingers on the table, impatient withthe formalities.

"We need to make a strong statement," Chief Greer said, warming up hisorator's voice. "Let this creep know we won't rest until we get him. Lethim know right up front we've got the FBI's leading profiler here, we'vegot the combined resources of four agencies working on this thing dayand night."

Edwyn n.o.ble nodded. "Mr. Bondurant is establishing a reward of onehundred fifty thousand for information leading to an arrest."

Quinn pulled his attention away from Kate and rose. "Actually, Chief, Iwouldn't advise any of that just yet."

Greer's face pinched. Edwyn n.o.ble glared at him. The collectiveexpression from the political end of the table was a frown.

"I haven't had the opportunity to thoroughly go over the case," Quinnbegan, "which is reason enough to hold off. We need to get a handle onjust who this killer might be, how his mind works. Making a blind showof strength at this point could be a move in the wrong direction."

"And that would be based on what?" Greer asked, his bulky shoulderstensing beneath the weight of the chip he was carrying. "You've saidyourself, you haven't reviewed the case."

"We've got a killer who's putting on a show. I've seen the photos fromthis last crime scene. He brought the body to a public place, intendingto shock. He drew attention to the scene with a fire. This probablymeans he wants an audience, and if that's what he wants, we have to becareful of just how we give it to him.

"My advice is to hold off today. Minimize this press conference.

a.s.sure the public you're doing everything you can to identify and arrestthe killer, but don't go into details. Keep the number of people behindthe podium down-Chief Greer, Mayor n.o.ble, Mr. Sabin, that's it. Don'tget into the specifics of the task force. Don't talk about Mr.Bondurant.

Don't bring up the FBI. Don't mention my name at all. And don't take anyquestions."

Predictably, eyebrows went up all around the table. He knew fromexperience some of them had been expecting him to try to take thelimelight: the FBI bully jumping in to grab the headlines. Andundoubtedly, some of them wanted to show him off at the press conferencelike a trophy-Look who we've got on our side. It's Super Agent!

No one ever expected him to downplay his role.

"At this stage of the game we don't want to set up an adversarialsituation where he may see me as a direct challenge to him," he said,resting his hands at his waist, settling in for the inevitablearguments.

"I'm in the background as much as I can be. I'll maintain a low profilewith the media for as long as I can or until I deem it advantageous todo otherwise."

The politicians looked crestfallen. They loved nothing so much as apublic forum and the undivided attention of the media and thereby the ma.s.ses. Greer obviously resented having his thunder stolen. The musclesin his jaw pulsed subtly.

"The people of this city are ready to panic," the chief said. "We've gotthree women dead, one of them beheaded. The phones in my office areringing off the hook. A statement needs to be made. People want to knowwe're going after this animal with everything we've got."

The mayor nodded. "I'm inclined to agree with d.i.c.k. We've got businessconferences in town, tourists coming in for plays, for concerts, forholiday shopping-"

"To say nothing of the anxiety of the general population over thegrowing crime rate in the city," said the deputy mayor.

"It was bad enough with the two prost.i.tute killings making the news," apress secretary added. "Now we've got the daughter of a very prominentcitizen dead. People start thinking if it could happen to her, it couldhappen to anyone. News like this creates an environment of fear."

"Give this guy a sense of importance and power and this city may wellhave a reason to panic," Quinn said bluntly.

"Isn't it just as likely that minimizing the case in the media couldenrage him? Drive him to commit more crimes in order to draw moreattention to himself?" Greer questioned. "How do you know coming outwith a strong and public offensive won't scare him and flush him out?"

"I don't. I don't know what this guy might do-and neither do you.

We need to take the time to try to figure that out. He's murdered threewomen that you know of, getting progressively bolder and moreflamboyant.

He won't scare easily, I can tell you that. We may eventually be able todraw him into the investigation-he's sure as h.e.l.l watching-but we needto maintain tight control and keep our options open." He turned towardEdwyn n.o.ble. "And the reward is too large.

I'd advise you to cut it back to no more than fifty thousand to start."

"With all due respect, Agent Quinn," the lawyer said tightly, "thechoice is Mr. Bondurant's."

"Yes, it is, and I'm sure he feels information about his daughter'smurder is worth any price. My reasoning is this, Mr. n.o.ble: People willcome forward for a lot less than one hundred fifty thousand. An amountthat extraordinary is going to bring in a flood of kooks andmoney-grubbing opportunists willing to sell their own mothers down theriver. Start with fifty. Later we may want to use raising the amount asa strategic move."

n.o.ble breathed a measured sigh and pushed his chair back from the table.

"I'll need to speak with Peter about this." He unfolded his long bodyand walked across the room to a side table with a telephone.

"We've got every reporter in the Twin Cities camped out on the steps ofcity hall," the mayor pointed out. "They're antic.i.p.ating something morethan a simple statement."

"That's their problem," Quinn said. "You have to think of them as toolsrather than guests. They're not ent.i.tled to the details of an ongoinginvestigation. You called a press conference, you didn't promise themanything."

The mayor's expression suggested otherwise. Quinn tightened his grip onthe fraying threads of his patience. Play diplomat. Go easy.

Don't lose your cool. Christ, he was tired of it.

"Did you?"

Grace n.o.ble looked to Sabin. "We had hoped to have a composite sketch .

Sabin cut a nasty look at Kate. "Our witness is being less thancooperative."

"Our witness is a scared kid who saw a psychopath set fire to a headlesscorpse," Kate said sharply. "The last thing on her mind is accommodatingyour timetable .. . sir."

"She got a good look at the guy?" Quinn asked.

Kate spread her hands. "She says she saw him. She's tired, she's afraid,she's angry-and rightfully so-at the treatment she's been given.

Those factors tend not to create a spirit of cooperation."

Sabin began to position himself for reb.u.t.tal. Quinn blocked theargument. "Bottom line: We have no composite."

"We have no composite," Kate said.

"Then don't bring it up," Quinn said, turning back to the mayor.

"Divert their attention to something else. Give them a photograph ofJillian Bondurant and one of her car and make an appeal for people tocall the hotline if they've seen either one since Friday evening.

Don't talk about the witness. Your first concern here has to be with how your actions and reactions will be perceived by the killer, not howthey'll be perceived by the media."

Grace n.o.ble pulled in a deep breath. "Agent Quinn-"

"I don't normally come into a case this early on," he interrupted, thecontrol slipping a little more. "But since I'm here, I want to doeverything I can to help defuse the situation and bring a swift andsatisfactory conclusion to the investigation. That means advising youall on proactive investigative strategies and how to handle the case inthe press. You don't have to listen to me, but I'm drawing on a wealthof past experience. The director of the FBI personally chose me for thiscase. You might want to consider why before you disregard mysuggestions."

Kate watched him as he took two steps back from the table and theargument, and turned his profile to her, pretending to look out the window.

A subtle threat. He had established his own importance and now daredthem to challenge it. He had attached the director of the FBI to hisposition and indirectly dared them to defy him.

Same old Quinn. She had known him as well as anyone could know JohnQuinn. He was a master manipulator. He could read people in a heartbeatand change colors like a chameleon. He played both adversaries andcolleagues with the brilliance of Mozart at the keyboard, turning themto his side of an argument with charm or bullying or guile or the bruteforce of his intelligence. He was smart, he was sly, he was ruthless ifhe needed to be. And who he really was behind all the clever disguisesand razor-sharp strategies-well, Kate wondered if he knew. She'd thoughtshe had once upon a time.

Physically, he had changed some in five years. The thick, dark hair wa.s.salted with gray and cropped almost military short. He looked leaner,worn thin by the job. Ever the clotheshorse, he wore a suit that wasItalian and expensive. But the coat hung a little loose off the broadshoulders, and the pants were a little baggy. The effect, though,created elegance rather than an eroding of his physical presence. Theplanes and angles of his face were sharp. There were circles under thebrown eyes. Impatience vibrated in the air around him, and she wonderedif it was real or manufactured for the moment.

Sabin turned toward her suddenly. "Well, Kate, what do you think?"

"Me?"

"You worked for the same unit as Special Agent Quinn. What do youthink?"

She could feel Quinn's eyes on her, as well as the gazes of everyoneelse in the room. "No. I'm just the advocate here. I don't even knowwhat business I have being at this meeting. John is the expert-"

"No, he's right, Kate," Quinn said. He planted his hands on the tabletopand leaned toward her, his dark eyes like coals-she thought she couldfeel the heat of them on her face. "You were a part of the oldBehavioral Sciences Unit.

You've got more experience with this kind of case than anyone else atthis table besides me. What's your take?"

Kate stared at him, knowing her resentment had to be plain in her eyes.

Bad enough to have Sabin put her on the spot, but for Quinn to do itstruck her as a betrayal. But then, why she should have been surprisedat that, she couldn't imagine.

"Regarding this case, I have no basis on which to form an educatedopinion," she began woodenly. "However, I am well aware of Special AgentQuinn's qualifications and expertise. Personally, I think you would bemaking a mistake not to follow his advice."

Quinn looked to the mayor and the chief of police.

"You can't unring a bell," he said quietly. "Put too much informationout there now, there's no taking it back. You can call another press conference tomorrow if you need to. Just give the task force this chanceto muster their resources and get a running start."

Edwyn n.o.ble returned from his phone call, his face sober. "Mr. Bondurantsays he'll do whatever Agent Quinn suggests. We'll set the reward atfifty thousand."

THE MEETING ADJOURNED at four forty-eight. The politicos moved into themayor's office for last-minute preparations before facing the press. Thecops gathered in a cl.u.s.ter at the far end of the conference room to talkabout setting up the task force.

"Sabin isn't happy with you, Kate," Rob said in a tone ofconfidentiality, as if anyone else in the room would be interested.

"I'd say Ted Sabin can kiss my a.s.s, but he'd be on his knees in aheartbeat."

Rob blushed and frowned. "Kate-"

"He dragged me into this, he can live with the consequences," she said,moving toward the door. "I'm going to go check on Angie. See if she'scome up with anything from the mug books yet.

You're going to the press conference?"

"Yes."

Good. She had a witness to spring while everyone else was looking theother way. Where to take the girl was the next problem. She belonged ina juvenile facility, but they had as yet been unable to prove she was ajuvenile.

"So you worked with Quinn?" Rob said, still with the voice of secrecy,following her toward the door. "I heard him speak at a conference once.

He's very impressive. I think his focus on victimology is dead on."

"That's John, all right. Impressive is his middle name."