"I have a well-established reputation in my field. Dr. Sanger, and I resent the implications of your question. As for my interest? It is the same as any citizen, any law- enforcement officer, the same as yours, Dr. Sanger."
"And that is?" pressed Meredyth.
"I want to see an end to this horror! To see the perpetrators apprehended and punished to the fullest extent of the law. Short of that"-he stepped up to the table and balanced his slight frame against it-"I'd like to see someone of Lucas's ilk here kill the perpetrators before they can take another inch off their victim. Think of it-treating her body like a frozen Popsicle, taking it from a freezer, slicing off this piece and that, returning it to deep freeze for another go at shocking you, Dr. Sanger."
"And you think the FBI can sooner end this thing than we can?" asked Lucas.
"Well, Lucas, you must admit, from all appearances, Dr. Sanger, and you by extension, have been led by the nose by a juvenile who, whether you care to admit it or not, has gotten you both where she wants you-on an emotional roller coaster. You've played right into the bitch's hands. You say she's manipulating her accomplice! What has she done to you, Dr. Sanger?"
"We're out ahead of her, Dr. Patterson. You can tell your pals in the federal building that," countered Meredyth.
"Out ahead of her? Everyone in this room tonight questions your objectivity, Doctor. As a forensic psychiatrist, knowing of such a personal stake in the outcome of any other criminal case, you would yourself recommend to Captain Lincoln that any officer or detective so closely linked to a suspect be removed from duty and certainly not placed in charge."
"Is that your opinion?" she asked. "Are you finished?"
"Yes, Frank is finished," said Lucas, taking her by the arm, escorting her out.
"Just one man's opinion," Frank shouted after them.
Lucas turned on him. "An opinion you've no doubt shared with the FBI?"
"I know my duty."
"And how much duty have you given the press?"
"I didn't go to the FBI. They came to me. I told them what I knew, what I gleaned from Chang and Nielsen, and today at the funeral parlor. The note left there-'Arm in arm, we'll wrap ourselves in the warmth of childhood carousels, to dream round and round in flesh pound for bloody pound.' This woman is in a competitive battle with you, Meredyth. You are a liability to this case unless handled properly by people who have had experience with such killers as this-the contrary murderer who will match you step for step."
Everyone on the task force had seen the note left in Zoradia Ortiz's coffin at the funeral home, written in the same hand as the previous cryptic communiques. As with the others, they gave profilers and investigators few to no clues. Everyone would be analyzing the meaning of "childhood carousel" now. Meredyth already knew it referred to Lauralie's life in comparison to Meredyth's "dream" childhood. Lauralie was at one end of the spectrum of this carousel, Meredyth at the other.
"So long as we have Captain Lincoln's confidence, Dr. Patterson," Meredyth firmly said, "Lucas and I will pursue this case as lead investigators on the task force that we and Gordon Lincoln assembled."
"I wish you only success and a speedy one at that." Patterson, his bundle of instruments held close to his chest, pushed past them and was gone. But the odor of his cologne, thrown on heavily to mask the odors of the coroner's lab, lingered.
"I think we can expect a raking-over in the printed pages tonight or tomorrow, Mere," said Lucas.
"And a visit from the FBI soon after," she agreed.
"Creep Patterson. He's always chummed up to local FBI. I suspect he's shining their badges because he actually thinks it's his way through the back door. He's bucking for his own lab where he can call the shots-God help us! He knows he'll never be head of the HPD Crime Lab so long as Leonard continues to write up his annual evaluations."
"I felt the tension between them."
"Politics."
"Positioning."
They had started out the door and down the corridor when Stan Kelton met them in the hallway. "We may have a break in the case," he said.
"Whataya got, Stan?"
"Aside from some promising tips, we've located a school where Lauralie Blodgett registered for classes this year."
'Terrific! Where's the school located?"
"Harkness at Balboa, the Dean V. King School of Veterinary Medicine. I dispatched a radio car to the address she left with the registrar. They're watching the place, but won't move in until they hear from us regarding a warrant."
Lucas and Meredyth recognized the address as that of Katherine Croombs's place. "We've already canvased the place. She's not there, Stan."
"My, but she's been a busy girl," he replied.
Meredyth asked, "Stan, did they get a list of her classes and teachers?"
"It's on its way to us now. Let me check the fax."
They followed Stan to find the information waiting for them. Lucas and Meredyth closely studied Lauralie's registration form and signature. She'd signed up for three classes, two of which she was failing miserably. The third, Intro Surg Pro, she somehow had a B average in. The name of the instructor was A. Belkvin.
"What the hell is Intro Surg Pro?" asked Kelton.
"Introduction to Surgical Procedures. I know, makes your skin crawl in light of what we know about her," answered Meredyth. "And look at her signature, Lucas." Studying it, Meredyth added. "It may give us a glimpse into her personality. Notice the fanciful swirls, the looping Ls, the exaggerated crossing of the Ts, the G dipping so low, the capitals and the T's reaching so high."
"Sorry to sound like a broken record, but what does it mean?" asked Kelton.
"Means she's self-indulgent, a thrill-seeking exhibitionist freak, out for all the attention she can gather."
Lucas added, "She ought to've put all this negative energy into the theater. Could've been a hell of an actress, the next Vivian Leigh."
"She has her stage," countered Meredyth, "and her audience. All of us in the real world. The subject of an
APB, a BOLO. Certainly has our attention…subject of a nationwide hunt being played out on the front pages. She's created this lady of satanic divination who frightens us all; the bogeyman has become bogeywoman."
At the bottom of the faxed copy of Lauralie's registration form, in tiny, tight script, a hastily written note ran the length of the page. It'd been written, presumably by someone working in the registrar's office. It read: "Ms. L Blodgett is on verge of being dropped from classes due to failing grades and mounting attendance problems as she has failed to reply to repeated notices to see her counselor, Dr. Arthur Belkvin."
"Belkvin, as in her instructor in Introductory Surgical Procedures? The one class she's passing?" asked Lucas.
"Kind of odd, I agree," said Meredyth.
"What? What's odd, the note scribbled on her registration form?" asked Kelton, trying to keep up.
"That the only class she's getting a passing grade in is taught by her counselor," replied Lucas.
Meredyth added, "And yet, according to the note, she has failed to report into him regarding problems with attendance. Looks and smells like a rat."
"Certainly incongruous." Lucas reread the registration form. "She's signed up for Zoolog Anat-"
"Zoological Anatomy," interjected Meredyth.
"— and Ca Teeth Extr."
"Canine Teeth Extraction." It made them both think of the teeth extracted from Mira Lourdes.
Lucas said, "We need to talk to this guy Belkvin, see what he can tell us about our girl."
"Are you kidding, Lucas? I want to meet this guy and see how he stacks up against our composite. He could well be our Crazy Joe Boyfriend."
"Older man, weak, easy prey for her…knows how to use a scalpel, a bone saw." Lucas ran a hand through his long hair.
Belkvin…Belkvin," Stan Kelton began to chant. "Sounds damn familiar somehow."