Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Roll call drew to a close, but Gary knew there was more to come when Travers entered the room and took over from Rob at the lectern. The rumbles of conversation from the assembled detectives continued. Travers rapped the lectern with his knuckles, then cleared his throat, and a hush fell.
“Okay, one last point. You all know we’re now at six murders.
I don’t have to say how badly we want to catch this guy, do I?
” Murmurs rippled through the rows of seated officers like a wave.
“The chief….” Travers raised his voice, and silence ensued.
“The chief feels we need a little outside… specialized help on this one, so we’re bringing in a kind of consultant. ”
“What does ‘kind of’ mean, Lieutenant?” That came from Will Freeman.
“As of today, we’ve invited Dan Porter to work with the lead squad on this case.
He’s a psychic who’s worked—” Loud muttering broke out, and Travers glared at them.
“When you’re done?” Silence. “Okay. If any of you skeptics out there would care to look, you’ll discover Mr. Porter has helped both the NYPD and Chicago PD with a few well-documented cases.
I’ve read statements from detectives in both those departments, and they all say the same thing.
This guy gets results. And seeing as our killer just made a leap from five months to ten days between murders, I think we’re in no position to turn down help if it’s offered.
” Another glare. “Let me make it perfectly clear. I want full cooperation on this. From everyone. You’re to provide any and all assistance required. However….”
Gary’s skin prickled.
“Let me reiterate. We approached Mr. Porter, not the other way round, and he’s agreed to work with us on one condition.
No one outside of this department is to know of his involvement.
That means the press, social media…. No one.
You got that?” Travers scowled. “There’s been enough ink and screen time wasted on this bastard already.
We know the media will be falling all over themselves to get more information on this killer—nothing spells high ratings like a serial killer, right?
—but I want them to be met with complete radio silence. ”
“So he’s not doing this for publicity?” Lewis rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like we believe that.”
“I don’t care what you believe, Stevens.” Travers’s voice was cool.
“But you said his previous cases are well documented. So suddenly he wants to keep out of the limelight? Why now?”
“I have no idea. Maybe you should ask him. He obviously has his reasons, but whatever they are, letting the media in on this is a dealbreaker.” Travers gazed around the room. “Have we all got that? Good. Have a great day, folks.” And with that he marched out of the room.
The rumblings erupted immediately.
“As if anyone in here would let the media know,” Will said with a sneer. “What message would that send? ‘Hey, the police can’t do diddly squat, so we’re enlisting a psychic.’” Murmurs of agreement followed.
Riley glanced at the men and women surrounding them, his face glum. “Any and all assistance required? Yeah, right. No one’s gonna talk to this guy on principle.”
“Then we’ll talk to him, all right?” Gary wasn’t about to share his part in the proceedings.
He’d gone out on a limb. His own experience of psychics didn’t matter.
If there was the slightest chance this guy Porter could succeed where they’d failed—so far—then Gary was prepared to accept what help Porter could offer.
“Sure, we’ll talk to him,” Lewis muttered. “But it’s gonna be a waste of time, okay? And when this guy doesn’t produce, remember, you heard it here first.”
They filed back to the large office, but instead of heading for his desk, Gary went to their base. The sight of Cory’s photo taped to the board sent a brief pang through him, but he took a couple of deep breaths.
You’re a goddamn professional. Be what he needs.
Without looking, he knew Lewis had entered: That cologne he wore was a dead giveaway.
“I am sorry about your friend.”
Compassion was the last thing Gary had expected. “Thank you.” Maybe Lewis was human after all. He peered at the board. “No phone, like the others?”
“Yeah.”
“Is Del doing the autopsy today?”
“He’s already done it.”
Gary turned. “When?” As a rule, Del didn’t work weekends, although there was usually one forensic pathologist working Saturdays.
“He came in Saturday morning. Riley attended. We were here doing stuff for Travers.”
A wave of gratitude crashed over him. “You all went to a lot of trouble. I do appreciate that.”
“We didn’t want you to have to confront all the prelim work. You didn’t need that.”
Gary sighed. “Sometimes you can be a real pain in the ass, you know that, right? And then you go do something like this.”
Lewis shrugged. “You’d do the same for me if the roles were reversed.”
“Is that why you haven’t mentioned that you saw Nina Peterson?”
Lewis arched his eyebrows. “Travers said I was to keep you away from this one. So in my book, you didn’t need to know.” Another shrug. “If you’ve got a problem with that, take it up with Travers.”
“That’s why I didn’t mention it either,” Riley said from the doorway. Gary knew Riley’s softer tone was meant to placate him.
“What about the photo Cory sent her? Did you get a result?” Gary glared at them. “You can share that much, surely.”
Lewis took a moment before replying. “No luck. It was another stock photo.”
Well, fuck.
“We’re gonna get a break on this, you know that, right?” Riley’s voice rang with confidence. “Who knows? This Porter guy might be it.”
Gary ignored Lewis’s barely stifled snort.
A taped box sat on the corner of the desk. Gary pointed to it. “That looks like evidence,” he remarked, noting the seals.
“That’s because it is. Travers had me and Riley go down there—on Saturday morning too—and pick out stuff that had belonged to all the victims. Mostly jewelry, watches…
I guess it’s for Mr. Psychic.” Lewis made a spooky noise and waggled his fingers.
“Get your tickets here for the first performance.”
“Just can it, will you?” The phone burst into life, and Gary grabbed the handset. “Okay. We’ll be right there.” He replaced it. “Travers wants us in his office.”
“Now what?” Lewis muttered as they headed in that direction.
Gary ignored him. As they entered Travers’s office, the man seated in front of his desk rose, rubbing his hand down the leg of his pants as he did so.
He was about Gary’s height, maybe a little shorter, with warm brown hair styled in an expensively cut quiff sweeping up from his forehead.
His shirt was deep purple, as was his tie, and his waistcoat and pants were dark blue.
A jacket hung over the back of the chair.
He stood still as they approached the desk and met Gary’s gaze with an unblinking stare.
It wasn’t a face that would have stood out in a crowd. A nondescript kind of face. Hazel eyes appraised Gary, the corners of his mouth turned slightly upward but not smiling. A square jaw with only the faintest hint of stubble. The guy exuded a calm that Gary envied.
“I’d like to introduce Dan Porter.” Travers gestured to them. “Mr. Porter, these are Detectives Gary Mitchell, Lewis Stevens, and Riley Watson.”
Mr. Porter gave a polite nod, which Gary returned. Riley took a step forward. “Hey.” Lewis hung back by the door, silent.
“This is the lead squad on this case,” Travers continued, “so you’ll be working with them. We’ll be interested to see what you can come up with.”
Lewis folded his arms. “We don’t need to tell you anything, do we? All we have to do is hand you something that belonged to the victim and you can tell us.” His smug smile made Gary’s hackles rise.
Mr. Porter’s polite expression didn’t alter. “You’ve been checking up on me.”
Lewis scowled. “No.”
“Yet you know I work by touch a lot of the time?” Mr. Porter’s tone was even.
“I’m not stupid. I watch TV.”
For God’s sake…. The guy was there to help them, and Lewis was being a dick.
Travers studied Lewis for a moment, his gaze glacial, before addressing all of them in a low voice.
Gary admired his restraint. “I want you to acquaint Mr. Porter with the case. Give him access to anything he asks for.” Another glance at Lewis.
“Did you arrange for items to be brought up from Evidence like I asked?” Lewis nodded.
“Then I expect you to make those available to Mr. Porter.” He raised his eyebrows.
“Seeing as you already know how he works.”
Gary bit back a smile. Score one to Travers.
“Anything?” Lewis’s voice held ill-concealed incredulity.
Travers regarded him with mild surprise. “That comes from the chief. Got something to say, Stevens?”
Lewis stuck out his chin. “No, sir.”
“Good, because at the risk of repeating myself, I want full cooperation.” He glanced at Mr. Porter. “Thank you again for agreeing to this.”
“Thank me when I’ve given you something solid to work on.”
Gary led him out of the office and through the noisy hallway to the squad room. He was aware of eyes following them as they passed coworkers, but thankfully there were no comments. Lewis has already made us look bad enough.
When they reached the desks, Mr. Porter scanned their surroundings. “Is there any coffee? I haven’t hit my caffeine level this morning.”
“I’ll get some,” Riley said with a smile. “How do you take it?”
“Black, please. No sugar.”
Riley headed out in search of caffeine.
Lewis leaned against Gary’s desk. “So this is what you do for a living?”
“I wouldn’t call it a living, exactly. It doesn’t pay well, but then again I don’t do it for the money. I do it to help people.” His voice was deeper than Gary had expected.
“You got another job, then?”
“No.”
Gary was no expert on body language, but even he knew what hands almost curling into fists meant. Mr. Porter pressed his lips together, his face contorted in a pained expression.
Is Lewis that blind? Porter does not want to talk about this.
“Even psychics have to buy groceries and pay rent,” Lewis said with a shrug. “Not to mention buy clothes.” He did a slow up and down glance.
“I don’t do it for the money, because I don’t need the money, okay?” Mr. Porter clenched his jaw.
If Lewis had tried to hide his sneer, he’d failed miserably. “Rich kid, huh? Mommy and Daddy have lots of cash?” He lowered his gaze to Mr. Porter’s hands. “I bet you’ve never done a hard day’s work in your life.”
Mr. Porter gave a wry chuckle. “Oh my God, I feel as if I’m in a scene from Jaws.” His eyes held amusement. “You’d be perfect as Quint.”
“Okay, that’s enough.” Gary glared at Lewis. “What is your problem? We’re supposed to be working with Mr. Porter, not alienating him right from the start.”
“Call me Dan.” He smiled, his bland expression gone, and in its place, dimples and sparkling eyes. With that smile? It was a handsome face. Then the light in his eyes faded as he regarded Lewis. He folded his arms. “I don’t have to be psychic to see you have an issue with wealth.”
Lewis’s eyes bulged. “I don’t have an issue. But some of us got where we are because of hard work. No one ever handed me anything on a silver platter.”
Dan’s lips twitched. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen a silver platter.” He glanced at the desks. “Is this where you work from?” he asked Gary.
“We’re using a closet as our base for this case.”
Dan’s eyes twinkled. “Closet? Kinda apt, given the victims are all gay.”
“How do you know that?” Lewis demanded. “Did your spidey sense tell you?”
Gary knew Lewis could be an asshole sometimes, but his behavior since Dan’s arrival had reached new levels of assholery. What the fuck is he playing at?
Dan hadn’t unfolded his arms. “No—I read it in the paper this morning, like everyone else in Boston.”
Yeah, he was pissed too.
Gary decided to take control of the situation. “Okay, it’s a little bigger than a closet, but not by much. We’ve got a board set up with photos from the crime scenes.” He peered at Dan. “Will you want a place to work?”
Dan nodded. “I’ll need an office with really good light and no ugly furniture. And a computer. My friend Ed will be my assistant. He’ll want to paint the office walls,” he added, deadpan.
Lewis gaped. “What the fuck?”
Gary laughed out loud. “I love that movie.” Warmth spread through his chest, and the tightness across his shoulders eased. He couldn’t hold back his smile.
“What movie?” Lewis appeared bewildered.
“The January Man. Kevin Kline, Alan Rickman.”
Dan gazed at him in obvious approval, his own smile reaching his eyes. Then he cleared his throat. “We can talk about movies later. Let’s get started. Take me to your closet.”
Gary led the way. What impressed him most about Dan was the fact that he was nothing like the psychics his parents had contacted. They’d seemed theatrical in comparison with Dan’s forthright manner.
I like him so far. Their shared common interest had seen to that. It didn’t mean Gary was going to believe everything Dan came out with. I’m as skeptical as Lewis.
The only difference was, Lewis didn’t have Gary’s incentive. Lewis made no attempt to hide his disbelief—Gary wanted to believe with all his heart, especially if it brought them closer to finding Cory’s killer.