Quietly, quickly, he continued with his original plan.
Alan Rychman shouted at the Quantico authorities in the front of the six-passenger helicopter. “Can't you radio ahead? Can't you get us there any faster?”
“ No one's responding at security in the building where she works, and she's not responding to calls at her home,” replied Agent Stan Corvella, who had picked Rychman up at the airport.
A second agent then turned and said, “Don't want to alarm you any more than you already are, Captain Rychman, but there's been an emergency 911 call out of the same location as Dr. Coran's laboratory.”
“ Jesus, oh, God,” he moaned. “We're too late.”
“ Hold on,” said the pilot through their headphones. “I'm bringing this bird in.”
Below, on the runway at the military base at Quantico, strobe lights were flashing in a myriad of colors, indicating state, local and federal authorities had been alerted to the danger. Thanks to Alan Rychman's repeated attempts to get help, everyone was aware by now that Dr. Jessica Coran's life was in danger.
He hadn't time to call from New York, as he had raced out to the airport in an attempt to catch Archer before he got off the ground, but he learned at La Guardia that there were no flight lists with Archer's name on it; however, he did come across a Dr. Casadessus on a flight far earlier in the day go-ing to D.C. Rychman then got on the first available flight, which was held for his boarding. Flashing his badge and credentials, he was allowed to retain his. 38 for the flight.
It was en route and from the plane that he telephoned the FBI in Quantico. With a bad connection, he finally got someone to understand that Jessica was in imminent danger. He gave a full description of Simon Archer and was assured that Dr. Coran would be safe. He then sat down and waited for what seemed an endless flight-actually only fifty minutes-at the end of which he located the FBI chopper waiting for him on the tarmac.
They had bad news, one agent said, as he shook hands with the two men. The phrase almost knocked Rychman down until the second agent qualified it. “Dr. Coran was not at her place, and at the moment no one's quite certain where she is, but we assume she may be in her lab and that's where we're going.”
“ Why haven't you sent someone to the lab?”
“ We've sent word ahead for security to be beefed up and we asked the guard if Dr. Coran was in the building. At that time, we were told that she was not on the premises.”
“ Other areas are being checked,” said the second agent.
“ We've got to find her,” muttered Rychman, drained and fearful.
Rychman had spent the previous several days going over every shred of legitimate information about Simon Archer, with Lou Pierce's help the entire time. He had done what he could to reconstruct Simon Archer's past, but large gaps remained, especially those related to his childhood, young manhood and schooling years. So Rychman had put his best detectives on it, sending a pair to visit Mrs. Felona Hankersen, the woman who'd been fired from St. Stephen's when Archer-allegedly-made a mistake.
Meanwhile, IAD detectives had apprised Rychman of a shopping list of grievances, all relatively minor when viewed alone: incidental procedural errors, some a first-year med student might make. The accumulation of errors, however, pointed toward an unusual picture, just as Jessica had tried to tell him. There were wide gaps in the chain of custody of evidence-a breach of ethics and conduct-not only with the Claw victims but with the evidence that had indicted and condemned Leon Helfer to his cell. Had Leon had a better defense attorney, he might have gotten off on chain of custody violations large enough to drive a truck through.
Altogether, the shadow of wrongdoing in the laboratory had only grown larger during the short time since Jessica had left. Archer's motives must be questioned. Was it blind ambition, an attempt to best Dr. Darius' record? Was there, buried below Archer's machinations, evidence of far more sinister motives and crimes? Jessica had suspected Archer of intentionally poisoning an eleven-year-old boy who may or may not have witnessed a ghastly perversion, and if he was capable of that, was he also capable of helping Dr. Darius out that hospital window?
His careful plan to outwit Dr. Darius had unraveled when Jessica came on the scene and Dr. Darius returned. From that point on, there was never a right time to expose the “truth” about the Claw as Dr. Archer had created it.
Things began to really smell bad as Rychman examined closely how Archer had mishandled the Claw case. Archer had been M.E. of record on the second, third, fifth and ninth killings. Perkins had been on the scene for the sixth case, but Archer had done the autopsy. The first, fourth, seventh and eighth autopsies had fallen to Darius. The seventh, eighth and ninth victims had also seen input from Jessica Coran. In all cases where Archer had not participated, the integrity of the chain of custody of evidence was maintained assiduously. Even Perkins concerned himself with this. But with Archer there were serious time lapses between crime scene and lab, between tagged information and missing tags and lost evidence. He had placed clothing into plastic rather than paper bags, knowing that plastic hampered the natural air-drying process, which greatly enhanced microscopic opportunities for blood and seminal stains. He also had failed to chalk-mark notable stains on occasion. Through various “misunderstandings” evidence had been accidentally destroyed or lost or had gotten out of his hands. A trail of responsibility for such indiscretions led to lab assistants and sometimes Perkins, but in all cases, it ought to have been Archer's responsibility.
He added to the equation the deaths of Leon Helfer's boss and dentist, and the fact that both men's bank accounts had swelled with thousands of dollars only weeks before. Leon Helfer couldn't have laid out the kind of money that was going to Dr. Parke and Malthuesen, so who did? And if these men were paid for services rendered, what were those services? Obviously, a dentist's services had to do with teeth, and a large part of the case against Leon rested on his tooth impressions.
Rychman had gone to Parke's office personally to have a look around, and when he found any number of casts for teeth lying about, it got him to thinking further. Jessica had somehow guessed right about the bite marks; they were identical, yes, but suppose that some-or even all-of them had been made by a cast? He had then gone down the hall to other dentists in the building and inquired about the possibilities, and he came away with a set of teeth that fit over his own, teeth that slipped over his gums and remained fixed tightly against the skin with a little coat of adhesive.
And if Archer liked chewing on human organs and eyeballs, he well could be up to his own eyeballs in guilt as Leon Helfer's accomplice, the dominant half of the duo, as Jessica had believed.
Rychman had next gone to Archer's office to confront him, but he found the doctor had taken the day off, leaving early for the long holiday weekend. He then pursued him to his condominium complex, where he got no response from his apartment. Picking about the lobby, asking questions, he learned that Dr. Archer simply was not findable. The doorman had said that Archer could not be away long, that he was carrying no bags, that he hailed no cab, that he must be in the vicinity of the condo. But no amount of searching had turned up any sign of Archer.
By 7 P.M. Rychman's unofficial APB on the coroner had gotten him nowhere. The man was not even answering his page beeper, which Rychman was told was unlike Dr. Archer. No one seemed to know where he'd gone.