“Anger is a sin,” Paul said firmly. “Anger is rooted in hate and that’s the opposite of love. I try so hard to love the people I come in contact with at the mission. They’ve all been arrested and assaulted and ignored. Love is the only thing that has any hope of working with them.”
Keren was free of the mob of reporters now and she drove out of the parking lot, picking up speed to head back to the precinct. She saw several cars fall in line behind them. “Anger in itself isn’t a sin, Paul. Jesus got angry. Don’t forget about Him knocking over tables and driving the people selling doves out of the temple. I’ve got Him pictured as furious.”
“Jesus had one or two episodes of purely righteous anger.”
“What are you talking about?” Keren asked. “You went to Bible college, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I went to Bible college.” Paul gave her an annoyed look, like he was tired of her interfering when he was busy beating himself up.
“So was that just a name, or did you actually study the Bible?”
Paul turned on her. She smiled.
“Yes, we studied the Bible,” he growled.
Keren pulled up to a red light. “So, I remember Jesus spending half His time getting in someone’s face—always someone powerful—and telling them they were blind guides, hypocrites, fools. He got angry all the time.”
Paul gestured in front of them. “I, on the other hand, want to throw a fit every ten minutes, because I have to wait in traffic.”
“That hasn’t been my experience with you,” Keren said. “When you get angry, you’ve always had provocation.”
“Big-time,” O’Shea said.
Keren started the car moving again. “You’ve handled all this with incredible grace and Christianity.”
“Yeah,” O’Shea added. “And besides, there’s a big difference between wanting to punch some mouthy newshound in the face and actually doing it.”
Keren sensed Paul’s anger ebbing away as she opened up some space between themselves and the reporters and that ugly autopsy.
He breathed slowly and seemed to relax. Finally, he said, “Thanks. I appreciate the support. But you don’t know what churns around inside me. The anger I’m fighting is sin. I can’t let it get the best of me, and you shouldn’t encourage me to let it loose.”
Keren opened her mouth to talk about her own anger and the struggle she, and most likely every human being, had.
O’Shea butted in. “Okay, feel guilty all you want.” He reached between Keren and Paul and offered them the list of Internet companies. “But do it in your spare time. We’ll track these down online, then we’ll go kick some doors in. They mostly sound like suppliers for laboratories, although one of them might supply fish bait.”
Paul looked at the list. “Lab experiments?”
“Sure, everything from medical research to insecticide testing to high school biology class,” O’Shea said, as if he’d known it all along.
Keren said dryly, “You don’t think a biology teacher had to personally go out and catch those frogs we had to dissect, do you?”
As if she’d known it all along.
Paul tightened his grip on the list. “I hadn’t thought of that. But it shouldn’t take long to track him down. How many orders can there be?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
There were thousands.
Most of the orders were massive and had shipped to well-known companies, so they could be eliminated immediately. But Keren was relieved to find there weren’t that many suppliers. Four in the Chicago area. Far more if the lunatic Caldwell had them shipped in from out of town.
“We’re going to have to go into these places with a court order.” Keren hung up from talking to the second bug mail-order house. “We ought to be able to get to all of them this afternoon. I guess they have more than their share of trouble with animal rights activists. They’re very careful with their customer lists.”
“Animal rights extend to gnats now?” Paul asked incredulously.
“Apparently.” Keren called and set the wheels in motion for four search warrants.
When she got off the phone, Paul said, “I’ll bet you anything a gnat lands on someone from PETA, they swat the itchy little pest just like everyone else.”
“Who’d have thought you could order a case of gnats.” Keren shook her head in wonder. “This really is a great country, isn’t it?”
“Let’s get the paperwork in order and start tracking this down. It’s possible he’s ordering from out of town, so we’d better find out quick if we need to expand our search.”
“O’Shea’s out trying to narrow down the exact location where Melody Fredericks got hit. He’s hoping to find a witness. It’s up to us to check out the labs.” Keren grabbed her last clean blazer off the back of her chair. She had to go shopping, and she wasn’t spending money on good clothes ever again. “Let’s head for the first one. The search warrants will be waiting for us by the time we get down to the front desk. I’m getting unbelievable cooperation on this case.”
She shoved her arms into her blazer. Paul helped her slip it on, then he lifted her hair out of the collar. She had put it in its usual messy bun this morning, but she had a nagging headache after breathing formaldehyde all through the autopsy. She’d let it loose, hoping that would help. It hadn’t.
But finding out this company might have an address on their perp did. She glanced over her shoulder. “Thanks. I get used to being treated like one of the guys.”
Paul rested his hands on her shoulders. “We’re due a break in this case. Maybe this is it.”
They picked up the search warrants and headed to the police parking garage. Paul’s phone rang. They both froze. It was the first call they’d gotten from Caldwell since they’d found Melody Fredericks’s body.
“Let me call Higgins.” Keren had the agent on speed dial. “Maybe we can get a trace on this loon.”
Paul backed against a cement block wall while his phone rang and Keren talked.
“Do you have the recorder ready?”
She took a glance at Paul when she heard the detached tone in his voice. He was in full cop mode. Keren finished talking to Higgins and pressed the required buttons on her phone.
Paul stared at his LCD panel. “Caller ID says he’s using a new number. Why don’t people keep better track of their phones?”
She remembered the last time he’d talked to Caldwell in this mood and dreaded what she was going to hear. “Higgins said to try to keep him talking. Tracking a cell phone doesn’t take long.” She took a deep breath and said, “Okay, answer it.”
Paul flipped the phone open. “Morris.”
Keren listened on her own phone and stepped closer to Paul, as if she could protect him from the oily voice that was taunting him.
“You have been a very bad boy, Francis.” Paul didn’t sound like he needed protection.
Keren gave him a frantic shake of her head. Of course, it was too late.
There was an extended silence on the phone. Finally, when Caldwell spoke, it wasn’t with his usual cultured tone. His voice had the snarl of an angry beast. “So you finally figured it out, did you? I suppose it was inevitable. But you proved to be so stupid before, I really doubted if you’d ever identify me.
“There you were, ranting and raving about my careless driving.” Caldwell’s voice lightened as he reminisced. “What a pathetic excuse you were for a policeman.”
A laugh erupted from the phone so shrill Keren jerked the phone away from her ear.
“The truth is, I planned for your wife and child to die months before I finally killed them. I thought of every detail. I savored watching them and learning about them. Your wife was very careless about closing her curtains, you know. You could train her to be more modest, if she were still alive. I even arranged for you to be living away from home. I planted the evidence your wife found that made her throw you out of the house. You got angry when she accused you of being unfaithful, but you never asked yourself where she got that idea. I watched the two of you fight. A few times I watched… when you didn’t fight.”