A Righteous Kill (14 page)

Alec opened an oak-paneled door and gestured for Luca to enter with that frigid smile. “Am I being interrogated
Agent
Ramirez?”

Luca shrugged and stepped into an enormous study, angling himself so he never gave the man his back. “Just a question.”

“Well, let’s just say the answer is complicated and leave it at that, shall we?”

“Sure.”

The green walls and mariner wood décor of the professor’s study didn’t make much of an impression. But the shadow boxes, glass cases, and antique columns displaying every conceivable instrument of death sent his spidey senses into overload. Along with the multi-cultural arsenal, Roman coins, different coats of armor, antique parchments, and various other ancient-looking bibelots littered the room.

Despite his suspicion and enmity, Luca’s inner twelve-year-old just wanted to be friends with this yuppie so he could come over and play with all his cool shit. Emitting a low whistle, he wandered to the window where a half-rusted sword hung mounted on the wall in a bronze velvet case.

“A Roman Gladius.” Alec joined him. “Judging by the steel construction rather than iron and taking into consideration the location of the find, it’s believed to be used by Julius Caesar’s Legionnaires in the Gallic wars around 58 BC.”

Luca nodded. “Still considered one of the best close-combat weapons ever devised.”

Alec’s eyebrows shot up. “You know your ancient weaponry.”

“Only as taught by the History Channel.”

“Then you might appreciate this.” Motioning to the middle of the room, Alec hurried to a case supported by a faux Grecian column.

Luca ambled after him, noting the change of energy between them. In his lair, surrounded by his treasures, the professor was master of his domain. Relaxed in the knowledge that here he reigned, intimately connected with his surroundings.

Good. He was just where Luca wanted him. Guard down and ripe for a sneak attack.

“This is one of my rarest finds. I had to fight to keep it from the museum.” Alec removed the glass case top and lifted the delicately arched sword with both hands, much in the way Hero had handled her fragile pottery earlier. “Used in feudal Japan, this Katana was dated back to fourteen fifty.” He released the sword from its case. “This steel is some of the purest in the world. In fact, our modern technology hasn’t been able to duplicate the high, black sand carbon content of the blade in the way they processed and hand-folded the metal back then.”

Distracted by the ancient piece of bad-assary, Luca drifted forward. “Holy. Shit.”

“I know,” Alec agreed with a self-satisfied smile. “Want to hold it?”

Hold it? He wanted some time alone with it.

“If I could.” Luca reverently wrapped his hand around the hilt, feeling like he may have reached through time. Turning, he held it out in front of him, all Akira Kurosawa style. Looking around for a mirror, Luca’s notice snagged on a wide display behind the executive desk.

What had Rown called that? A cassock?

Stretched out and pinned to some sort of display board, the thick black robe hung next to a white collar and what appeared to be some colorful scarves. Luca searched his memory. In church as a boy he remembered some of these jewel-colored sashes hanging around the necks of catholic clerics.

Boo yah.

Not wanting to alert the man who was fast becoming a major suspect, he made a show of scanning the rest of the office.

“I’ve numerous objects of the like.” Alec seemed to buy it. “A cavalry mace from the Byzantine empire, a saber used by sixteenth century Atlantic pirates, a French Fauchard and over there.” Alec pointed past a pole arm with a bladed point. “A hauberk belonging to a Templar Knight.”

“Nice.” Luca handed the katana back to its owner.

“Most of my relics are Medieval European, as is my passion.”

“I see.” Glancing around, Luca motioned to the cassock with his chin. “That’s catholic isn’t it? Do you have a lot of religious artifacts?”

“You could argue that all my artifacts are religious.” Alec smirked. “As most of these weapons were used in religious conquests, holy wars and the like. Pagans versus early Christians. Christians against Jews and Muslims. Catholics against Protestants.”

“Which holy war would you have taken up arms for?” Luca asked.

Alec crossed his arms, adopting a thoughtful posture. “Ironically, I’m against war. Though, it has shaped the world we live in. I would say there’s an ongoing war that we fight every day. One of enlightenment against ignorance. Of good versus evil.”

“Isn’t evil subjective?” Luca argued. “Take John the Baptist, for example. In his eyes, he’s fighting a war against evil. But to the rest of society, he is the one perpetrating it.”

“Interesting perspective.” The professor’s gaze eyes sharpened with interest. “If I may ask, how close are you to apprehending John the Baptist?”

Luca’s chest burned. He wasn’t as close as he wanted, as he
needed
to be. “I’m not allowed to discuss an ongoing case,” he evaded.

“But you’re allowed an intimate relationship with the victim?”

Luca shrugged. “It’s a free country.”

“Well, I suppose life can’t always be a Dan Brown novel, can it?” Alec studied him in kind with a look of cool superiority that made Luca want to grab the Katana back and see if it was still as lethal as it looked. “We don’t always capture our quarry.”

Unwilling to let his gall show, Luca stepped past Alec and nearly ran into a glass case containing exactly the kind of confirmation he’d been looking for.

He looked up and locked eyes with the professor, unable to keep the triumph from glittering in them.

“
I
do,” he promised.

Chapter Ten

“Do you not know I am a woman?

When I think, I must speak!”

~William Shakespeare, As You Like It

“Tell me about
this
.” On point, Luca watched the professor’s reaction very carefully.

Alec meandered to the case Luca stood in front of and stared down into it with his lip curled. “This isn’t much of anything,” he answered. “It’s a replica I bought at an antiques auction in Antioch years ago. Barely worth the cost of the display case.”

Luca studied the specks. Flat, screwdriver-shaped iron point flared to sharp precision for the distinct purpose of wreaking more damage on the way out then at penetration. Long, octagonal wooden pole likely made of ash.

Just like the one used on John the Baptist victims.

“Then why did you buy it?” Luca pressed.

“I couldn’t resist due to a personal obsession of mine,” the Professor admitted. “Have you ever heard of the Spear of Longinus?”

Luca grimaced and shook his head. Sounded like it belonged in a dirty limerick.

“It’s known by many names. The Holy Lance of Antioch, the Hofburg Spear, the Vatican Lance, the Spear of Destiny.”

That last one sparked his memory. “The Roman lance that pierced the side of Christ.”

Alec glanced over. “Color me impressed. You’ve really paid attention to your history.”

Luca tried to keep smugness out of his answering smile. History. Wolfenstein SoD first person shooter video game in Junior High. Potato. Po—tah—to. “If this is a replica, where is the original?”

Alec leaned against the case. “That’s widely debated. Speculations range from a Vatican conspiracy to a treasure cache containing it along with the Holy Grail and Crown of Thorns. You can trace it’s mythology from fifth century Jerusalem to eighth century Constantinople, thirteenth century Paris all the way to Vienna. Most recently, rumors are that Hitler invaded Europe seeking the Spear’s fabled powers.”

“You’re shitting me,” Luca said, throwing a bit of awe into his voice so professor blowhard would continue.

“I shit you not. A sunken German U-boat was retrieved in the early nineties because of first-hand reports that it carried the spear.”

“Where do
you
think it is?” An image of Hero flashed across Luca’s vision. Blood leaking from her naked waist, mingling with dirt and rain. Her trembling sobs as she reached for him with skewered palms.

One… Two… Three…

“I could only guess at this point. I think the Spear’s power lies in its own mythology. As with all religious relics, the mysterious miracles are likely wrought by the true faith of the believer more than the inanimate object, itself.” Alec ran an elegant hand over the glass of the spear case. The smudges he left contrasted with his obviously fastidious nature. But his intense stare penetrated the glass to the object contained within. “Although, the sacrament dictates that you symbolically eat the flesh and drink the blood of Christ. In doing this, you atone for your sins and receive His grace. That in itself is powerful if only because of the absolute belief and practice of billions of people on earth.”

Luca wrinkled his nose. Cannibalism, even of the symbolic Demigod variety, kind of made him want to yark.

“Imagine a relic that touched both the holy flesh and the sacred blood at the very
moment
Christ was supposed to be fulfilling his greatest sacrifice for the souls of mankind,” Alec continued on as if Luca had disappeared. “Charlemagne believed the power of the spear would help him conquer the world. Others believe the spear would absolve them of any sin and return them to heaven. Or even cast out Demons. Regardless of whether I believe in the spear’s more mystical power or not, it would be a potent object to possess.”

“What sins of yours would you hope to absolve?” Luca’s voice sounded too leashed in the open room, even to him.

As if returning from a hypnotic journey, Alec blinked a few times and swung his gaze toward Luca with a chilling smile. “Too many to confess to the FBI, I’m afraid.”

***

Hero climbed up on the side rail of the van and angled her distorted wire hanger closer to the van’s door handle. Biting on the skin of her cheek, she reached the inside the handle, held her breath, and—
Click
.

Taking one final look around, she opened the driver’s side door and leaned inside.

The front seats and the floor of the van remained undistinguishable though the clutter of maps, water bottles, a discarded back pack, some books, and a few rolled up duffel bags of field tools. Possibly the only chaotic space in Alec’s life.

If Hero remembered one thing with abject clarity, it was the abrasive, grey-lined upholstery on the floor of the van which she’d spent the most terrifying moments of her life.

She peered through the crisscrossed lattice of black metal separating the front seat from the back of the van, her heart performing a little tap dance on her lungs.

Teal. An ugly, albeit clean teal carpet spread over the floor. It reminded Hero of a carefully preserved rug from the seventies, complete with swirling cuts to add some funkiness. Not shag, by any means, but definitely too long to be practical. Especially in a van often assaulted by dirty archeology and/or anthropology students.

A silent shadow fell behind her. A strong hand silenced her shocked cry as she was wrenched out of the van and against a warm stone wall.

“What the
hell
were you doing?” Luca hissed against her ear.

“Nmmphing,” she said against his hand.

A callous on his palm abraded her lip. It sent shivers straight to her lady bits.

“Breaking into his
locked
vehicle without a warrant isn’t
nothing
.” He held her secure against his body as he reached out and locked the door with his elbow before closing it as quietly as he could. She noticed he took care not to touch it with any part of his skin.

Hero was surprised he could pull this off what with all the struggling she did. The wall of hard muscle pressed against her back reminded her just how thin the fabric of her skirt was.

And she thought the inside of a kiln was hot.

Before she did something crazy, like bend over and offered her ass like a bitch in heat, Hero jabbed his torso with the sharp wire hanger still clutched in her hands.

“Goddammit,” he barked.

Her inner victory celebration was cut embarrassingly short when, instead of released, Hero found herself face first against the van window, disarmed, and pinned with the full weight of Luca’s body against hers.

His hand was still over her mouth. His other arm banded her elbows to her sides effectively rendering her immobile.

She’d never been so turned on in her entire life.

Thoughts along the lines of,
Yes, Agent Ramirez, I’ve been a naughty girl,
crowded out all the reasonable ones.

“Do you know how much trouble you’re in?” Luca growled against her ear.

Do you?
She smiled against his palm, enjoying the balmy moisture of her breath against the flesh of his fingers. She snuck her tongue out and gave him a wet lick much like she had to her brothers when they were kids.

It produced a similar effect. He jerked his hand away and wiped it on his pants.

“The kind where you put me in handcuffs?” She did little to keep the hopeful note out of her voice.

Luca took a moment too long to reply. Speaking of long… something the size of her curling iron—the big one— pressed against her back. “The kind where a possible suspect sues the department because you illegally broke into his van with the FBI present.” He lifted off of her, retrieved the wire hanger, and none-to-gently guided her toward the car.

“I didn’t
break
into anything. Nothing
broke
. I was just—looking around.” Hero held her hands up in supplication.

Luca growled. Like, for
real
growled at her, then put his cell phone to his ear with a free hand. “I need a sneak and peak search warrant, ASAP.”

A search warrant? What had he found? What was he looking for?

“Specimen collection off of a weapon and a full sweep of a utility van.” Hero listened to him list the van’s license plate information and the layout of the home. “I’ll send you a picture of the weapon.” He checked his watch. “Suspect won’t be on the premises between thirteen hundred and eighteen hundred hours. I’ll need to request a delay in notification. Ninety days if the judge will allow it. I’ll e-mail the Probable Cause Statement.”