“We need to go public with this,” I said.
“Not necessarily.” This from Davy, of course. “If we went public-”
I interrupted. “It would cost the city billions of dollars. Which we all know is more important than the lives of a few innocent people.”
“That’s only part of it. The Chemist is bluffing. He doesn’t want the media to know, because then it would be harder for him to spread his poisons.”
“Explain how that’s a bad thing.”
“You need evidence to catch him. How will you find that evidence if he disappears?”
“Who is the asshole?” Roxy whispered in my ear. I ignored her.
“What will happen to the city’s approval rating when the public finds out there’s a lunatic poisoning their food, and we knew but didn’t tell them?”
Mr. PR opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“I’m calling a press conference,” said the super. “We’re going public.”
Davy pursed his lips like a fish. “The mayor won’t like this.”
“Our job is to serve and protect, and keeping this from the public is doing neither. Dr. Ng, Dr. Van Hausen, I understand that you had colleagues at Cook County Morgue when they brought in the members of the Special Response Team from Alger’s house. Have you found anything?”
Dr. Ng, a thin, attractive Asian woman, nodded at Dr. Van Hausen, cleared her throat, and read off of a paper in front of her.
“The deaths all appear to be the result of poisoning. We’ve managed to isolate seven different toxins so far. Some of the deceased show symptoms and signatures of several toxins.”
Rick came back into the room, dragging a chair. Roxy whispered in my ear, “Who is the stud?”
I ignored her, and suppressed a smug expression when the stud pulled his chair close to mine and sat down.
“Nerium oleander,” Ng continued, “which is a cardiac stimulant and has an effect similar to digitalis. Ornithogalum umbellatum, Tanghinia venenifera, Strychnos toxifera, Ricinus communis. So far, we haven’t discovered any evidence of disease. And it should be noted that all of the toxins we’ve found have been derived from plants…”
“Have you had similar findings, Special Agent Reilly?”
Rick turned his attention to the super.
“Actually, no. I found traces of hydrogen cyanide, arsenic trihydride, and parathion. These are all inorganic compounds, and can be purchased everywhere or made with a child’s chemistry set. The Chemist apparently has knowledge of diseases, organic poisons, and chemical weapons.”
“Parathion is a relative of sarin nerve gas.” From Dr. Astor, the army guy.
“Yes. It’s sold under various brands as a pesticide.”
“Is everything the Chemist is using available domestically?” Major Murdoch asked.
“The big four haven’t come up yet,” Rick answered.
Roxy, who had been worrying a hangnail, perked up. “Big four?”
Rick turned to her. “VX gas, anthrax, smallpox, and plague. These would indicate a hostile foreign source.”
“Or a domestic one.” I faux-smiled at the major. “Doesn’t the U.S. have smallpox in a freezer somewhere?”
Major Murdoch gave me a look that left no doubt I hated my country, then said, “Has there been any evidence that these compounds have been weaponized, or made more lethal?”
Rick snorted. “How can you make cyanide more lethal?”
“Please answer the question.”
Rick’s leg rubbed against mine under the table. I didn’t know if it was intentional or not. My heart rate bumped up a bit, but I blamed that on Roxy’s energy drink.
“No, Major. All evidence points to a single extortionist, not a sleeper al-Qaeda cell waiting to pop out of a cake and squirt you with Variant U.”
“What is Variant U, Mr. Reilly?”
“It’s Special Agent Reilly. Or Dr. Reilly. Variant U is a weaponized form of Marburg. And no, I haven’t found any evidence of that either.”
O’Loughlin focused on me.
“What have your teams uncovered, Lieutenant?”
I looked at the file before me, which I hadn’t opened yet. Now seemed like a good time.
Herb, ever the professional, had written a condensed version of what he’d discovered so far.
“We’ve deployed eleven teams to each of the known sources of the BT outbreaks. They’ve already collected several hundred prints, hundreds of food products, have interviewed dozens of potential witnesses, and have the names and contact information for over one hundred more. Background checks are in the process of being done on all known botulism victims, and the store owners and employees at each outbreak nexus.”
Major Murdoch leafed through the folder in front of him, and I noticed it actually had Top Secret stamped in red on the front. “How about the background of that cop Alger?”
“He’s come up clean. Two Internal Affairs inquiries. Both shootings, both times he was cleared. We’re looking at his arrest record for anyone who might have a grudge, which is just about everyone he’d arrested in thirty years on the force. The severed fingers in the refrigerator have been confirmed as belonging to Alger, and we suspect he’s been killed.”
“Maybe he cut off his own fingers to fool us,” Roxy said.
No one said anything, but the stares she received made her shrink down in her chair.
“We’ve located the deli on Irving Park that the Chemist mentioned in his letter.” I thought of Latham, and my voice caught. I coughed into my hand to cover it. “We’ve got a Crime Scene Unit there, gathering evidence, questioning the staff. It’s going to take some time to sort through everything.”
“We don’t have time,” the super said. “This nut wants an answer in tomorrow’s paper. To make the early edition, I need to get the personal ad in today by noon.”
“Are we paying him?” I asked.
“I have received authorization to meet the Chemist’s demands. It should go without saying that mum is the word on this.” The super zeroed in on me. “We can say the city is under attack, we can name the businesses that have been hit, we can tie in Alger, but no word about the extortion.”
I mulled this over. That was probably why the city hadn’t outed the Chemist yesterday-they had been considering paying him off. If that got out, every loony with a Saturday Night Special would be moving to Chicago, trying to extort a few bucks.
“Who’s in charge of setting the trap to catch him if we decide to pay?” I asked.
“We are, Lieutenant. You can start figuring out how right after the press conference. Plan on it at ten a.m.”
The super adjourned the meeting, and both Roxy and Rick stuck to my shoulders, accompanying me to my office.
“You’re cute for a Fed,” Roxy said to him.
“I believe that looks are superficial, and it’s what’s inside that counts.”
Roxy batted fake eyelashes. “Are you saying you’d like to get inside of me?”
“Sorry. I don’t date women younger than the scotch I drink.”
Score points for Special Agent Rick.
“You should date Jack. She’s like in her fifties.”
And points lost for the new partner.
“Have you ever done a press conference before, Roxy?” I asked, making my voice conversational.
“Who? Me? No. I was on TV once, at the MTV spring break bash in Fort Lauderdale. I never saw it, though. My friends told me about it. I was pretty trashed.”
“I think you should sit this one out.”
“Why? Are you afraid I’ll steal your thunder?”
“No. I’m afraid you’ll say something stupid that will get me fired.”
Roxy tugged my elbow and stared me in the eye, petulant.
“I’m a detective third grade. I didn’t get this promotion by giving blow jobs. I busted my ass. You, of all people, should know how hard it is for a woman to be taken seriously in this sausage fest.”
I considered all the things I could say, about professionalism, and attitude, and image. Instead I said, “Chances are this lunatic watches the news. If we put an attractive woman up there, he could become fixated on you.”