The 8th Circle Page 20

  “No wonder Novell’s so twisted.”

  “Your father believed they were set up.”

  “My father? My father told you that?” Danny shook his head. This whole case kept getting weirder and weirder.

  “He said it was like a poison that infected the city, at least parts of it. He said it was all about money and power.”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  “If he hadn’t died when he did, I figure we would have left the city and started somewhere new. He had money saved up. He gave it to me before he died and told me to get out.”

  “He took out a mortgage on the house,” Danny said.

  “Yeah. He didn’t want anyone to know. He said the money was for me because nobody gave a damn about the girls. He was friendly with Novell, you know? Novell helped me find a place to live, looked after me.”

  “If you aren’t working for Novell, what’s holding you? We could chuck it and get out of town today,” Danny said. Maybe if they left right now, they had a chance.

  He could almost picture a house by the ocean. Someplace quiet. They could go anywhere. Just the two of them. He could write that novel he’d always thought about. And Kate wouldn’t care about parties and being seen by the right people. The things he’d always hated. Kate. They would make love to the sound of the waves, and he’d keep her safe. And one day, the nightmares would go away for both of them and . . .

  “You’d always wonder why you didn’t stay to write the story. You couldn’t live with that.” Kate pulled back, and Danny jerked out of his reverie. He started to protest, but she laid a finger on his lips and gave him a smile that broke his heart because he knew she was right. “They won’t let you get away now anyway.”

  “What do you mean, Kate? Who?”

  “Them.” She looked past him, her face hardening. “Mason. He was one of them. The Inferno. At least that’s what Thomas believed. And they’re above the law.”

  “This Mason who wasn’t Paulie Ritter. He was big, small?”

  “I don’t want to remember.” She closed her eyes as if she were a child, as if that would make the monster disappear. But monsters never really disappeared. They just hid in closets, under beds, or in dark places inside your mind.

  “Kate, please try to remember. Was he big?”

  She looked at him and spoke in a rush. “No. He was thin, blond. I don’t know how tall, but I remember his eyes. He had horrible eyes, like chunks of blue glass.”

  “He was a member of the Inferno?”

  “Yes. I don’t know. All I know is we were illegals. No family to come looking for us. We were the lost ones.”

  Her eyes turned dark with pain he couldn’t begin to fathom. It didn’t matter that he bore witness to Jane Doe One and the others. Once in his arrogance, he believed he’d told their story with the honesty and integrity they deserved, despite the flawed ending. Now he knew better. He’d wanted to make a name for himself. No wonder the old man despised him.

  “No one knew about me. That I lived, and Thomas said if I told anyone the truth about Mason, they’d find me. If he knew more, he never told me. He wanted me to have a clean start. He gave me a home, paid for my face to be fixed.”

  “So he took his secrets with him to his grave.”

  “He took me in when I had no place to go. He kept me safe. He was good to me, Danny. My angel.”

  Danny finally understood why his father hadn’t wanted him to poke around the Sandman case. It made sense now. The old man had preferred to die in disgrace then expose Kate. Despite all those citations, maybe it was his one real act of heroism.

  “I used to go looking for Mason. Dance with the devil because I was ready for him, but I never found him. And now . . .” She shrugged.

  The sorrow washed up against his chest. “What are you going to do?”

  She leaned close to slide her hands up his face, and he caught her in his arms. He wanted to pull her inside of him, afraid if he let her go, she would be lost to him forever.

  The downstairs buzzer rang.

  “I have to leave.” Her voice trembled.

  Danny could feel the brush of her damp eyelashes against his cheek, and he breathed in the scent of lavender that surrounded her.

  Say something, you idiot. “Kate.” The word tore from his dry throat like a prayer.

  The buzzer sounded again. She jerked free and blinked back her tears. “Thomas loved Yeats. Did you know that? Because of your mother. He missed her terribly.” She dabbed at her eyes. “Find Mason for me. Tell your brother. He’s a cop.”

  Something was wrong. She wouldn’t look at him. “And you’ll be here,” he said. “Tell me you’ll be here, Kate.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise, but tell me you’ll be here.”

  “A deep-sworn vow, Danny. I’ll give you that.” She leaned close to brush her mouth against his, and then she was gone.

  56

  Danny prowled Kate’s apartment. He picked up the volume of Yeats and paged through it to the photograph. He ran his thumb over its surface, not sure why he felt so uneasy. The old man looked sick, stooped and gaunt, yet happy, his face radiating a kind of pride, like he’d found something he’d lost. Danny didn’t know why the picture bothered him. Was it the shining adoration in Kate’s eyes? The only person who ever looked at him that way was Conor.

  He understood Kate’s devotion to the old man. He’d saved her after all. Protected her. But why was it so easy for the old man to love a stranger and not his own flesh and blood?

  Maybe it was because Kate asked for so little.

  Danny stared at the page. He’d been lost all his life and finally found his way home. He’d found her, and they’d start over. It seemed so urgent to talk to her. Try to take away her sorrow.

  A deep-sworn vow. I’ll give you that.

  Jesus, that poem—A floorboard creaked, and he spun around, the thought gone. Novell stood in the doorway looking like he hadn’t slept for a year. The lines on his face made fissures in his gray skin, and black rings circled his eyes.

  Novell emanated the tense, barely controlled anger that reminded Danny of the old man when he came home after a bad shift and too many hours at the Shamrock, and it only took one wrong look or word to ignite him.

  Novell gazed around the room. “She’s gone?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me the truth about Kate?”

  “The truth is a relative thing, my friend. You should know that. Come on. We have to go.” Novell tossed Danny his jacket. He looked as though he wanted to say something more, but he didn’t.

  “I’m sorry about you and Harlan.”

  Novell jerked his shoulder. “Does it matter?”

  *

  Danny followed Novell down the stairs to the front door. “Where are we headed?” Novell stopped so abruptly Danny collided with him. “Sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry, kid. We’re not going anywhere. You are.”

  Kevin stepped out from behind the steps. “Do what I say, Danny, so we can get this over with.” Kevin used his best cop voice.

  Danny started to move, but Kevin grabbed his arm and shoved him against the wall, pressing his shoulder against him. He twisted Danny’s right arm behind his back and then his left so quickly that he had the cuffs on before Danny could react.

  “What the hell is this? I haven’t done anything.”

  “No more running, Danny,” Kevin said.

  Novell stared at the ground. “You’ll keep me informed?”

  “I will. Thanks.” Kevin yanked Danny with him. “Let’s go.”

  “Danny?” Novell said. “I’m sorry.”

  Danny glared at him. “Go to hell.”

  *

  When they walked into the city morgue, the stench of formaldehyde assaulted Danny’s nose, throat, and mouth. His arms ached and his hands were numb, but he wouldn’t ask Kevin to take off the cuffs. It was Kevin’s little power trip to bring him here like this. Let him enjoy it.

  “I’ve g
ot something for you to see,” Kevin said.

  Danny didn’t answer.

  They marched into the autopsy room where a body lay on a table. Under the fluorescent lights, the body had a curious purple-green cast, though it was hard to say if that was from death or the bruises and swelling. It bore the familiar Y-shaped incision of a recent autopsy.

  It took Danny a second to register the body before he recognized the white mane of hair and the tiny mole to the left of the once prominent nose that now lay in a pulpy mass on his blackened face. A large hole gaped in his right temple. They’d put his head back together, but his face looked like a mask.

  “Jesus. Oh, Jesus.” Danny doubled over like someone kicked him in the balls.

  “You know him?” Kevin’s voice came from a million miles away.

  You’re my mitzvah, Daniel.

  Danny staggered against a cart that held a tray of instruments. The tray spilled with a metallic clatter, and Danny heard an animal moan escape him.

  “Danny! Christ almighty, let me get you uncuffed.”

  Kevin unlocked the cuffs, and Danny ripped his right hand free fast enough to make a fist and connect it with Kevin’s temple. “You sadistic son of a bitch!” Kevin stumbled back in surprise.

  Something hot exploded inside Danny’s skull and burned down through his body. He wanted to smash his fists into Kevin’s face until there was nothing left of it but twitching nerve endings and gore. Kevin might have size and bulk, but he was slow. He didn’t have thirty years of fury stored up. Despite the pins and needles in his hands, Danny grabbed the metal tray and swung it at Kevin’s head. It hit with a solid thunk and opened up a gash in his forehead that began to pour blood.

  “You bastard!” Kevin made a grab for him, and Danny raised the tray again. He cracked it against Kevin’s jaw before Kevin sent it flying.

  Danny hurled himself at Kevin like a pit bull. They slammed against the gurney where Andy’s body lay, and it careened across the room to crash into something that landed with a wet splat on the floor.

  He heard footsteps, shouts, but he didn’t pay attention until hands closed over him and dragged him backward. Danny didn’t know how many cops had him, but he kept struggling. Fists rammed into his kidneys and ribs. They forced him facedown onto the floor, cursing and kicking, then a shot of agony reverberated through his skull.

  Darkness.

  57

  Kevin walked into the room, and Danny looked up. A neat, white bandage cut across Kevin’s forehead. Stitches? Danny hoped so. Kevin’s jaw had a deep purple bruise. He carried an ice pack.

  Danny tilted back in his seat. “What’s next, Kev, a strip search? Or are you just gonna cuff me to the chair and beat the shit out of me?”

  “What’s going on, Danny?” Kevin was back in cop mode.

  “Is this an official inquiry?” Danny drawled out his words and watched Kevin’s jaw tighten. “If it is, I’m entitled to a lawyer.”

  “Do you need a lawyer?”

  “Between you and Novell, apparently I do.” He shifted and winced when his bones and muscles protested. Philly’s finest hadn’t lost their ability to deliver an ass kicking.

  Kevin sat opposite Danny. Someone had scratched “Blow me” into the top of the table. Kevin set his ice pack on top of the words.

  “You can ID the body.”

  “Like you didn’t know that already.” Danny slouched lower in his seat and began to draw circles on the table with his middle finger.

  “No. I didn’t.” Kevin pulled four photographs from his pocket and slid them across the table. “That’s why I wanted you brought in. You see what’s written on him?”

  Danny shoved the photos back at him. He couldn’t stand to look at Andy laid out like a slab of beef with those vile words printed on him, but he forced down the ripping pain and concentrated on his fury. “Do you want me to thank you? Thanks, Kev. You’re a terrific big brother. May I go now? Or should I kiss your fat ass first?”

  Kevin turned the photos face down. He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked up, his light eyes filled with exhaustion. Danny’s anger cooled. He knew he was acting like an asshole. Kevin always brought that out in him. They brought it out in each other.

  “I don’t want—Whatever you’re into, Danny—Christ, I warned you!”

  You’re my mitzvah, Daniel. Danny’s throat closed. He forced himself to breathe. Oh Jesus, Andy, what the hell happened? “It’s Andy Cohen.” Danny heard his voice shaking.

  “From the paper?”

  “None of you geniuses recognized him?”

  Kevin pressed his fingers against his temples. “We don’t travel in your elevated circles, Danny. God almighty, are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure, and no, I didn’t kill him.”

  “I didn’t say you did.”

  “Then why did you bring me in like a goddamn criminal? You going to throw me in jail next?”

  Kevin banged his fist on the table. “Are you stupid?”

  “Am I being charged with a crime?”

  “I can charge you with assaulting a police officer. How ’bout that, smartass?”

  “I want to call my lawyer.”

  “Danny, listen. Novell’s right. There are dangerous people out there, and they want to hurt you. I can get you into a safe house—”

  “No.”

  “Jesus Christ, you’re stubborn! Do you want to end up dead?”

  Danny wished Kevin would just give up and let him go. What was the point when neither of them was going to give in? Theresa was right. They were both hardheaded Micks. “Still burn your ass, don’t I?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Why did you take the old man’s notebooks out of the box? What didn’t you want me to find?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “The old man’s notebooks for the last two months of the Sandman case are missing.”

  “If they are, I didn’t take them!” Kevin’s face turned scarlet.

  Danny leaned back in his seat and smiled. “You can’t cover up forever. I’m going to figure it out. I have a witness.”

  58

  “You have no goddamn respect for police procedure!” The captain’s voice boomed through the closed door.

  “Fuck police procedure! If you’d just listen—”

  “I’m tired of listening, Novell. I’m tired of dealing with your shit!”

  Detective Sean McFarland tried to ignore the shouts that came from the captain’s office. He didn’t know if John Novell would still be working the case with him when he was done fighting with the captain, but right now, he was too busy working his way through the state police report on Beth Ryan’s accident to care.

  It had taken them long enough to forward it to him, and it was, at first glance, straightforward. The victim had made a right turn onto Route 252 and lost control of her car. She had run off the road, gone through a barrier, and crashed into Valley Creek. Sean examined the photographs of the Jeep. It lay on its left side, squashed in like a trampled tissue box. The right rear tire lay in the creek.

  Wait. How the hell had that happened? The Jeep lay on its left side but was missing its right tire.

  According to the report, the tire came off in the crash, but in the photographs, it looked undamaged.

  He looked at the autopsy photos. Beth Ryan had taken a beating. She was knocked unconscious when rocks had broken through the window and had two skull fractures, though the listed cause of death was drowning. Sean barely recognized her, but the little boy, Conor, was strapped into a car seat and didn’t have a scratch. It wasn’t impossible that the child’s neck was broken. Whiplash, maybe. But his car seat—the top brand on the market—was on the right side of the car. The car didn’t jerk backward. It rolled down and landed in the water.

  This report was bullshit. It didn’t appear that anyone had checked to see if the brakes or wheels or anything else had been tampered with.

  Something was wrong here. Sean was sure of it
, and nobody gave a damn.

  59

  “What the hell is the matter with you?”

  “Shut up and walk.” Kevin dragged Danny from the interrogation room down the stairs and out to the parking garage. Their footsteps echoed in the cavernous space.

  Danny had forgotten how strong Kevin was. He wasn’t as tall as the old man, but Kevin had been a First Team, All-State tackle in high school, back in the days when Kevin could see his toes and dreamed of playing for Penn State. Danny didn’t know if Kevin had any dreams left.

  They reached Kevin’s Navigator.

  “What do you mean you have a witness?” Kevin pinned Danny against his car. “Stop playing games with me, or right here, I’ll beat the shit out of you. You can call your goddamn lawyer later.”

  Danny could feel the fury rise off Kevin, like heat shimmers over hot asphalt. Sweat rolled down his forehead and his breath came in rapid puffs of white steam. He waited for Kevin to stomp the ground and snort like a bull, which would have been funny if Kevin’s big hands weren’t clamped around his shoulders.

  “Paulie Ritter didn’t kill all those girls—if he killed any of them. At least one lived, thanks to the old man.”

  Kevin stepped back as if Danny burned his fingers. “Holy fuck! Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. The guy who had her called himself Mason, and from her description, he wasn’t Paulie Ritter.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was a copycat.”

  “I don’t think so. According to her, Mason was tied to the Inferno.”

  Kevin waved his hand in disgust. “Are you back to that again?”

  “The old man talked about the Inferno.”

  “The old man lived inside a Dewar’s bottle too.” Kevin looked past Danny, and the lines around his mouth grew deeper.

  “What happened to the old man’s notes?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t his partner. You know the way he got at the end. He holed up in that house like a rat.”