Blind Alley (4 page)

" 'Years' is the key word. Why hasn't Trevor found him before this? Before he came to the U.S.? Before he became a danger to Jane, dammit?"

"I'm sure you'll ask him," Joe said. "As soon as he walks through that door." He took a final swallow of coffee and set his cup down on the coffee table. "But in the meantime I'm going to take that reconstruction back to the precinct and see if we can find out who Ruth is and set the wheels in motion to track down who she might have been with in the days before her death."

"It's nearly four in the morning, Joe."

"I couldn't sleep." He got to his feet. "I called and arranged for a police car to set up a stakeout to watch the cottage. They should be here soon."

"Jane will wonder why they're here when she gets up."

"Then you'll have to think of an explanation. Because they're staying here when I'm not around."

"I'm not arguing. I want all the protection I can get for her." She took her cup and Joe's to the sink. "It was just an observation. And I won't lie. She wouldn't forgive me for not being honest with her." Her lips twisted ruefully. "And she'll probably think I'm stupid for being so terrified. She's braver than I am."

"She only has different experiences." He kissed her lightly on the lips and headed for the door. "No one has more guts than you do."

"Yeah, sure."

He glanced over his shoulder and saw her weary expression. He muttered a curse, turned on his heel and came back to her. He gave her a kiss that was definitely not light. It was hard and passionate and completely dizzying. She found her arms sliding around him, pulling him closer.

He lifted his head. "No one has more guts or endurance or beauty and don't you ever forget it." He stepped back. "I'll try to get back in a few hours, but if I don't, I'll be here to lay this Scotland Yard whizbang at your feet this afternoon."

"Okay," she whispered. She didn't want him to go. She wanted to go to bed and forget Ruth and the danger to Jane and everything but the raw, wonderful sex that always bridged every abyss that threatened them.

"Me, too." As usual, Joe had read her thoughts. He touched her lips with his forefinger. "Double. Say the word and I'll call the squad car and say I'm staying here for a few more hours. I probably won't be able to find out much at this hour anyway. I can leave at six."

Her arms tightened around him. Joe... He was strength and life, and, Jesus, she needed him.

"Call them," she whispered. "Six is soon enough."

London

Trevor hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. "That was Quinn. I think he was impressed to find we start work early over here. I leave for Atlanta at nine."

Bartlett smiled. "You said you'd get him. Do you want me to go with you?"

"Not now." He got up and headed for the closet. "I'll call you if I need you. Dig out that file on Quinn and Eve Duncan for me while I pack. I've got to be prepared for them. I need to know them inside out."

Bartlett had already retrieved the file and was glancing through it. "You may have a problem. They're both pretty complicated. Eve Duncan grew up in the slums with a drug addict for a mother. She had an illegitimate daughter as a teenager and it turned her life around. She went to college and worked at straightening out her mother. Her daughter, Bonnie, was taken and presumably killed by a serial killer when she was seven. The body was never found. It was thought that Bonnie was recovered a few years ago, but it was discovered later that it was another child."

"And Quinn?"

"Born of privileged parents and was an FBI agent for a while before becoming a detective for the ATLPD. He owns a lake cottage and extensive acreage near Atlanta. That's where Quinn and Duncan live." He glanced up at Trevor. "He's tough and smart and tenacious as a bulldog."

"Weakness?"

"Eve Duncan. No doubt about it. He's been with her from the time of her daughter's death and he may have stayed in Atlanta instead of continuing with the FBI to be near her."

"A button to push."

"Not unless you want to set off a chain explosion."

"Sometimes explosions are necessary." Trevor smiled recklessly. "I'll risk it."

"You always do." Bartlett's smile faded. "They're tough. Both of them. Be careful that explosion doesn't take you out."

Trevor snapped his suitcase shut. "Why, Bartlett, I believe you're worried about me."

"Nonsense. I'm just too lazy to look for a new contact. Are you taking this file with you?"

"Not if you've covered the high points." He set the suitcase on a chair. "I'll just glance at the MacGuire file while you go downstairs and hail me a taxi."

"Again? You should have it memorized by now. There's not much there. Jane MacGuire's only seventeen, grew up in foster homes, and she's been with Duncan and Quinn since she was ten. She's an honor student and never been in trouble. But she's too young to have much experience or history."

"I disagree. Look at her face. She's young, but there's a world of experience in that face. And he'll see it. It will draw him like a magnet." He gazed down at the face of the girl staring boldly out of the photo. "The taxi, Bartlett."

"Right away."

Trevor barely heard the door close behind him. Excitement was soaring through him and he had to suppress it. He had to think coolly and clearly if he was to win this battle. And he would win it, dammit.

His finger delicately touched the cheek of the girl in the photo. She was close. Remarkably, marvelously, close.

"Close enough, Aldo?" he murmured. "Cira?"

Chapter Three

Ruth really looked like me?" Jane gazed in disappointment at the empty pedestal. "I wish I could have seen the reconstruction before Joe whisked it away. May I go down to the precinct and take a "

"No, you may not," Eve said firmly. "You can see the photograph. You're sticking close to home for a while."

"Because of that creep?" She shook her head. "I'll stick around here today but I've got a trigonometry test scheduled for Monday and I'm not going to let him stop me from taking it." She went to the doorway and gazed at the patrol car parked down the road. He'd be crazy to make a move when he can see Joe has me under surveillance."

"He is crazy," Eve said. "Nothing could be clearer. No one goes around killing women just because they remind him of someone else unless they're nuts. So your argument doesn't hold water. And that test isn't worth any risk."

Jane turned to look at her. "You're really scared."

"You're damn right I am. I'm not having anything happen to you even if I have to tie you to your bed."

Jane studied her expression. "You're remembering Bonnie. I'm not Bonnie, Eve. I'm not an innocent little girl who can be lured to her death. I intend to have a long, good life and I'll go for the jugular of anyone who tries to take that away from me."

"You may not get the chance. This man has killed at least six women that we know about. All of them older and more experienced than you."

"And they probably weren't suspecting anything. I'll be suspicious of everyone." She smiled. "You know I'm not the most trusting person in the world."

"Thank God." Eve drew a deep breath. "I'm scared, Jane. Don't make me more scared by defying this monster. Please."

Jane frowned. "I hate letting him keep me from doing what I need to do. Bastards like him shouldn't be able to control us."

"Please," Eve repeated.

Jane sighed. "Okay. If you're really going to worry."

"I am going to worry. Count on it. Thank you."

Jane's eyes twinkled. "Come on, I didn't have much choice. You threatened to tie me down."

Eve smiled. "Only as a last resort."

"How long do you think it's going to take to catch him?"

Eve's smile faded. "I don't know. Soon, I hope."

"I'm not going to hide forever, Eve." She glanced back at the patrol car. "Do you believe in fate?"

"Sometimes. Most of the time I think we're in control of our own destiny."

"So do I. But this is a funny coincidence, isn't it? First Bonnie and then me. What do you think the odds are that you'd be faced with this kind of situation again?"

"Astronomical. But I am."

"Then maybe ..." She paused, working her way through it. "If there is some kind of fate, this might be a second chance."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe it's like ... a circle and comes around again and again if it goes wrong the first time."

"You're getting too deep for me. I don't know what the devil you're talking about."

Jane shook her head as if to clear it. "Me, either. It just occurred to me that " She started for the door. "All that thinking is giving me a headache. Let's go for a walk."

"I have to be back in time to meet with Trevor." She glanced at her watch. "An hour."

"I don't think he'll leave if you're not on the doorstep. From what you said he wants to cooperate. Besides, he's probably one of those proper, methodical, slow-moving types."

"Just because he's Scotland Yard? They're very efficient, from what I hear."

"They didn't catch Jack the Ripper, did they? Joe would have caught him. He thinks out of the box." She nudged Toby with her foot as she started down the steps. "Come on, lazy. Just because you like to run at night is no reason you get to sleep all day."

Toby yawned and then got to his feet.

"You know those policemen in the car will be trailing us," Eve said as she followed Jane down the steps.

"The exercise will do them good." Jane smiled at Eve over her shoulder. "And it will do you good, too. You've been stuck in the house working on Ruth for days. You need fresh air and a change of scene. The sun's shining and there's not a cloud in the sky."

She was wrong, Eve thought. There was a terrible, dark cloud hovering over them. But Jane's expression was radiant, bold and without fear. Eve felt her own spirits lift as she looked at her. "You're right. It's a great day for a walk." She caught up with her. "But just to the head of the lake. Trevor may not be that eager to see me, but, stiff and proper or not, I'm damn interested in meeting him."

Ms. Duncan? I'm Mark Trevor." He rose to meet her as she came into the cottage. "I'm delighted to meet you." He gestured to Joe, who was standing at the kitchen bar, before moving across the room with hand extended. "Quinn was telling me what a magnificent reconstruction you did. I can't wait to see it."

"You'll have to go down to the precinct. Joe took it in this morning. I didn't even get a chance to take any photos." He had a firm, hard handshake and as he met her eyes, she felt a ripple of shock.

Trevor was obviously courteous but that was as far as Jane's description applied. He couldn't have been more than thirty, was dressed in jeans and olive sweatshirt, and was tall, broad shouldered, and muscular. Every ounce of his body appeared charged with energy. Short, curly dark hair framed an amazingly good-looking face dominated by dark eyes that shone with interest and intelligence. His smile exuded a charisma that warmed and flattered at the same time. Good God, he looked more like a male model or actor than a policeman.

"I've already asked him for permission to take a look." Trevor took the cup of coffee Joe handed him. "We have our own forensic sculptors that work with us at the Yard and I'm a great fan. They've done some amazing reconstructions."

"So I've heard." Joe handed Eve her cup. "Where's Jane?" "Playing with Toby. She'll be along. She was right behind me " Her gaze went to the briefcase on the coffee table. "Case histories?"

Trevor nodded. "But I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed. As I told Quinn on the phone, we have nothing concrete." He unfastened the briefcase. "The killings appeared to be random and we didn't make the similar facial connection until he'd moved out of the U.K. ..." He sat down on the couch. "But please help yourself. You can keep these records if you like. They're copies."

"You have to have found out something," Eve said. "In this age of DNA no crime scene is sterile."

"Oh, we have fiber and DNA, but we have to have a suspect for comparison."

"Witnesses?" Joe asked.

Trevor shook his head. "One night the victims were alive, the next day they were dead. No one saw them with anyone suspicious. Aldo obviously saw them, stalked them, and then moved in when it was safe for him."

Eve stiffened. "Aldo? You have his name?"

Trevor shook his head. "Sorry. I didn't mean to raise your hopes. Aldo is only my name for him. I made it up because after all these years of tracking I couldn't think of him on an impersonal level."

"Why Aldo?"

He shrugged. "Why not?"

"I don't care what you call the bastard," Joe said. "I just want to nail him. The woman in Birmingham was burned to death and the medical examiner says that there are signs that Ruth was smothered. No similarity." He gestured to the files. "What about these women?"

Jean Gaskin was smothered. Ellen Carter was burned to death. He seems to be fond of those two means of killing his targets." He took a sip of coffee. "However, he doesn't limit himself. Julia Brandon died of a lethal poison gas she inhaled."

"What?"

"Presumably forced to inhale. Unusual."

"Horrible."

"Yes." He nodded. "And Peggy Knowles, the woman from Brighton, had water in her lungs. She was drowned." He set his cup down on the coffee table. "Aldo's never in a hurry. He allows himself the time to make his kills in the way he's planned."

"Can't you identify who he's trying to punish by killing these women? Records? Databases?"

"It would be a needle in a haystack, Eve," Joe said.

Trevor nodded. "And unfortunately we don't have any technology that sophisticated. We have no central photographic database. However, we did make the attempt to check all our records and came up with nothing." He paused, his eyes sliding to the window before he brought his attention back to Eve. "However, I have a theory that even if the odds weren't so huge we might not have been able to find him in our records."

"Why not?"

"When I was digging for information after the last killing in Brighton, I found records of a killing in Italy and one in Spain before the first murder in London. Both women smothered, both with faces destroyed."

"Christ, we can't even narrow down his country of origin?" Joe asked in disgust. "What about Interpol?"

Trevor shook his head. "Do you think I haven't scanned every bit of info during these last years? If he did kill other women, there's no record I could find."

"And he didn't leave any calling cards as some serial killers do?"

Trevor was silent a moment. "Well, yes, he did."

"What? Why the hell didn't you tell us that to begin with?"

Eve said.

"I thought you might already know." He turned to Joe. "Haven't you received your forensic report on your Jane Doe?"

"Not everything. It's coming in bits and pieces."

"Then they haven't analyzed the ashes yet?"

"Ashes," Eve echoed.

"They found ashes with Ruth's body," Joe said. "We thought it might be evidence she was killed in the woods and the camp-fire was "

"Not wood ashes," Trevor said. "And no cozy little campfire. The report will come back volcanic ash."

"Shit." Joe started to dial his phone. "You're sure?"

"Quite sure. Particles of volcanic ash were found with every body. Your Birmingham police were understandably negligent in having the ashes analyzed in a case where the victim burned to death. They'd naturally assume any ashes were produced by the fire itself."

"Then why didn't you notify them?"

"I'm notifying you now. It's your case." He rose to his feet and moved swiftly toward the window. "Hadn't you better check on her?"

Eve was suddenly aware of Trevor's tension. The easy composure was gone and he was alert, restless, totally focused. She stiffened as she remembered how his gaze had slid to the window moments before. "Jane?"

He nodded curtly. "You said she was right behind you."

She glanced at Joe.

He shook his head and hung up the phone. "I didn't discuss her with him."

Trevor stiffened, his gaze narrowing. "There she is." He turned to Eve. "You shouldn't have left her alone."

"If you'll look a few yards behind her, you'll see that she's not alone." Eve went to stand beside him at the window. Jane was coming up the path with Toby at her heels and the two policemen trying to keep up with her. "I'd never leave her without protection." Her voice was cold. "You can never tell who you can trust in this world. How did you know about Jane?"

He turned to look at her. "I'm sorry. Of course you'd protect her. I spoke impulsively."

"How did you know about Jane?" she repeated.

"Your suspicions are very healthy. I approve. But I'm the last person you should be concerned about. To make sure that she's safe is the reason I'm here." He reached into his wallet and pulled out a creased and faded newspaper clipping. "I've had my assistant scanning all the major city newspapers for some time and lo and behold he came up with this photo of Jane MacGuire."

Eve recognized the photo. It had been taken when Jane had entered Toby in a charity dog show for the Humane Society three months ago. It was a little blurred but Jane's face was clear. Terror iced through Eve.

"He may not have seen it." Trevor was reading her expression. "I don't know how he picks his victims. Some have to be random. The Millbruk woman in Birmingham. Peggy Knowles in Brighton. She was a prostitute, too. Neither of them had their photos in the newspaper."

"And the others?"

"One had just won a gardening award a week before."

"So he does look at the newspapers."

"Possibly. But he can't be sure of finding his victims by reading the newspapers and, if they were a source, he'd have to limit himself to certain areas because of the sheer magnitude of the task. I'd say he has some other way of targeting."

"Another theory?" She was chilled. "You found her, dammit." "But the chances were against it. I was really having my colleague Bartlett doing routine checks to see what he could come up with."

"And you came up with Jane." Joe took the photo from Eve. "And it's too damn clear. Why didn't you notify me if you thought she was in danger?"

"The e-mail," he reminded him.

"Damn the e-mail. You should have been specific."

"I didn't even know he was in your area until the Millbruk murder and that was two months after this photo was taken. And if he'd seen this photo, it wasn't likely that he'd waste time and effort on any other target. He'd have come straight to her."