“ Christ, Captain, he took the brains this time, and-”
“ Jesus,” moaned Rychman, on the edge of the bed now, pulling on his pants. Coran had called it like some psychic. She was as good as her record indicated. “Locate Dr. Coran, Lou, and see to it she gets to the scene. I'll see you both there.”
“ I'll see to it personally, Captain, but there's one other thing you ought to know-”
But Lou heard the click of the receiver before he could get out the fact there were two bodies this time. Lou decided that the captain would find out soon enough. For now he had to roust out Dr. Coran. It was his understanding that someone had already notified the coroner's office and that Dr. Archer was already on his way to Scarsdale.
Rychman was yawning and driving rapidly toward his destination, his siren and flashing light parting the relatively sparse traffic at 3 A.M. He was only half hearing his radio, alive and crackling with news of the Claw's recent kill. So the place would be deluged with reporters and thrill-seekers, he thought. There'd be a thick crowd to part just to get to the body, so he called ahead to the scene, shouting for whoever had taken charge of the body. By protocol this was the first on-scene officer until a coroner or superior arrived to relieve him.
This is Officer Calvin Boyle, Scarsdale Police Department, Captain Rychman.”
“ Boyle, are you in charge there?”
“ For now, yes, sir.”
“ Have you secured the body?”
“ Bodies, sir, and yes, they are secured.”
“ Bodies?”
“ Weren't you told, sir? There's two vies.”
“ That's what Lou was trying to tell me, damn.”
“ Sir?”
“ Never mind, Boyle, just do me some good, will you?”
“ Anything, Captain.”
“ I want you and any other first-on-scene to be there when I get there. Want to talk to you.”
“ Not a problem.”
“ I want you to maintain control, Officer, you got that?”
“ Control of the bodies, sir?”
“ That's right.”
“ But our coroner's already arrived and… well, it's his show now.”
“ You just tell him Dr. Darius is on his way, and so is an M.E. with the FBI. Tell him it's an NYPD task force matter.” Rychman knew that the famous Dr. Darius wasn't likely to put in an appearance, but the lie would be effective.
“ It might mean more coming from you, sir.”
“ Think you can get him on the horn?”
“ I'll do my best.”
Rychman didn't want the crime scene disturbed until Jessica Coran could have at it; given her accurate prediction, and what he had read about her, he believed that she might be instrumental in stopping this madness. Anything he could do to delay the Scarsdale coroner, he decided, was good at this point.
Rychman got a Dr. Stanley Permeter on the line and he began the tedious job of keeping Permeter wondering about whether he should or should not go ahead with his investigation there in Scarsdale; whether he should wait for the renowned Dr. Darius and the FBI's Dr. Coran. Rychman kept the doctor entangled with words until his car pulled up to the crime scene area, where, as he expected, everyone with a police-band radio was waiting and watching.
Dr. Permeter was arguing with the Scarsdale chief of police when Rychman stepped up to them and introduced himself with a large handshake. Once more he launched into the many reasons for waiting on Darius and Coran.
The Scarsdale chief was Bill Flemming, a friendly enough sort, but he was concerned about how his department was going to look if they simply stepped aside and allowed Rychman in without contest. The killings were, after all, within his jurisdiction. A radio call from Flemming's superior took him away. Rychman prayed it was the right call, and it seemed to be, for when Flemming came back he agreed to wait.
Rychman gathered members of his task force about him and gave each an assignment. One was to interrogate Boyle, to find out how the bodies were discovered and who made the call and what had alerted them. Another was to question Boyle's partner, a rookie who was badly shaken. She hadn't been prepared for what they had found inside the house on a residential block of Nantucket Street.
The Claw, if it was the work of the Claw, had deviated from his normal pattern: he had apparently killed two victims at a single location, and he had chosen to kill indoors, gaining access to the house without apparent difficulty. There were no broken windows, no broken locks. But Rychman knew it was the same bastard, or bastards. He knew it because Jessica had warned him that soon the Claw would be graduating to cannibalizing his victim's brain. He had done so with a vengeance, and he was playing a game with the authorities, seeing just how daring he could be, for the bright streetlamps of Nantucket Street must have shone on him clearly as he stepped up to the front door of the little home.
Eleven
The keening of the telephone beside her bed was a welcome shock to Jessica's system. She'd been in the throes of a nightmare; an endlessly long snake had been coiling about her, making her feel pinned to the bed. She'd been frustrated by the fact that she'd known it was a nightmare, but could not break free of it. She was prisoner until the phone, an object outside herself, had forced consciousness from unconsciousness. The snake's head had had Matthew Matisak's face.
She grabbed the phone, and for just an instant, she wanted it to be Otto at the other end, but of course, that was impossible.
“ Dr. Coran? This is Sergeant Pierce.”
“ Something's happened?” She immediately feared for Alan Rychman.
“ Captain Rychman asked that I fetch you, Doctor.”
“ The Claw?”
“ 'Fraid so, ma'am.”
“ Can you send a car?”
“ I'm in the lobby, ma'am. I'm to take you myself.”
“ Good, good… I'm dressing… Be right down.”
She pulled herself together quickly, dressing in jeans and a pullover sweater, grabbing her cane and her medical valise. Inside a compartment in the valise was a medical smock she'd throw on at the scene.
Lou Pierce greeted her in the lobby, and it was good to see a friendly face. He instantly took her medical bag, showing her the way to the squad car. He deposited the bag on the backseat, but she asked to ride up front with him. Lou was pleased. He opened the door for her and watched her slide in gracefully, save for a brief fight with her cane.
Lou sped toward the scene, telling her that she had a long night ahead of her.
“ Anything you want to tell me, Lou, that I should know?”
He'd been thinking about the double murder and the missing gray matter from the heads of each victim, and he felt a little unnerved that she could read him so easily. “Well, yes, ma'am, some information… by way of preparation.”
She knew that words could do little to prepare a person for the kind of work she must do tonight. “Go ahead, Lou. What is it?”
“ Well, there're two bodies, same location-”
“ Two? My God.”
“ One's older, one younger; they're thinking it's a mother and daughter, but there's some question about that.”
“ How awful.”
“ And ma'am, well, this time the lunatic took their… took their… well, he took their brains, or ate them. Nobody's sure of that, but the brains are missing.”
She felt chilled, recalling the prediction she had made to Rychman. She hadn't expected the maniac to advance to this stage quite so quickly, and certainly not so dramatically, killing two women in a single night.
“ You okay, ma'am?”
“ Yes, Lou. Just get me there quickly.”
Lou felt uneasy and awkward, and he tried small talk, but it was a poor opponent for the silence that had settled in around them. “Your injury, ma'am?”
She looked up at him. “Yes?”
“ Is it temporary, or will it never heal?”
“ Doctors say it could be almost right someday.”
“ Then you can throw away your cane. That'd be nice.”