The plan would take every ounce of willpower he possessed, and to help it along, he'd bring some of Fowler's blood to stave off the urges that were sure to come under the circumstances.
Fully dressed, his plan coming to full fruition, he began to locate the necessary items he must take to Gamble's place. He began packing the van in the dark. His neighbor with his damned dog stopped to chat about the pleasant breeze, about the brilliance of the stars and the clear night overhead, and then he moved on to the awful condition of some of the fences in the area and something to do with an altercation with Mrs. Philbin at the end of the street-something to do with his dog and her dog.
“ I'm sorry but I can't talk just now,” he told the neighbor.
“ Never hardly ever see you, and when I do, it's usually when you're going out. But you usually go out early. Why so late?”
“ Work… emergency. You know the routine.”
The man's dog growled as if he smelled something foul on Matisak's pants leg.
“ Stop that! Stop it, Toby. Sorry,” he apologized. “Don't know what gets into him.”
“ Prob'ly smells the cat on me.”
“ Oh, yes, you're a cat person, aren't you?”
“ Really have to go now.”
“ Sure. I'll stop in sometime for coffee, maybe.”
“ Sure… sometime.”
He watched the nosy bastard move off with his terrier, glad to see them go. He quickly finished loading the van with the cooler, the briefcase and the power tools that had been Lowenthal's. If he left them with Gamble, he'd have to make some new purchases. Sears was currently running a sale on Craftsman tools.
He climbed into the van, closed the garage door with the automatic and slowly drove out into the night, the green dash lights splashing the pockmarked features of his face.
Once this Coran woman was dead, and after some time passed, he'd go back to his vampiring; until then, however, he'd feed on blood packs he might pick up from hospital banks as he did with the cortisone. Once things died down a bit, he'd return to the alluring hunt for prey and he'd get his blood the way he preferred.
# # #
“ We can leave the details and cleanup to Brewer's boys,” Otto was telling her over lunch at Berghoff’s in downtown Chicago, “and you and I can be back at Quantico this afternoon, if you'll just accept the fact that it's over, Jess. You're going to have to sooner or later, and it may as well be-”
“ I've got to be certain. Otto.”
“ What's that supposed to mean? That I don't have to be certain?”
“ I didn't say that. I've got access to the Chicago Crime Lab, one of the best in the country, and given a little more time, maybe I can convince myself that you and Brewer and the rest of the country are right. I want to check that partial print from the pill we found in Zion against Lowenthal's print to-”
“ You sound like Captain Ahab after the white whale, or Captain Kaseem after this Rosnich person.”
“ I just have to be certain. There're just too many loose ends, and the way that suicide was… I don't know… staged, like a setup. I can't bear the thought of this creep's getting away and sitting back and having a good laugh at our expense.” He almost spilled his drink when he said, “Christ, Jess! Nobody's gotten away with shit. Lowenthal is our man.”
“ Nobody's dug enough around Lowenthal. We don't know enough about the man, or his friends and coworkers.”
“ Brewer's building that evidence now. He's talking to everyone who knew him at Balue-Stork, former employers, high school teachers, you name it. By the time he's through-”
“ Brewer's idea of investigating this is to nail the dead guy.”
He calmed when he saw that she was getting angry. “All right… okay… how long'll you need?”
“ Two days tops and maybe I can satisfy myself that Lowenthal and the Wekosha vampire are one and the same man.”
Otto pulled at his face as if checking to see if he needed a shave. Then he said, “I'm going to miss you.”
She breathed deeply and reached across, taking his hand in hers, squeezing. “When I get back, we'll have lots of time, Otto.”
He gave her a reassuring smile. “Maybe more than you know.”
Her eyes pinned his. “What're you saying?”
“ I've been politely asked to retire. Nearing the age anyway, and Leamy-”
“ For Christ's sake, Otto! It was your work that led to Chicago and to Lowenthal.”
“ No, not really. It was your work, and Leamy wants more 'fresh blood' in the department.”
“ Hell, Leamy's only a few years younger than you himself.”
“ Well, dear, it goes a lot deeper than age alone. That's just the P.R. phrase for losing politically.”
“ Who're they… who is Leamy replacing you with?”
“ O'Rourke.”
“ O'Rourke? That back-stabbing bitch!”Whoa, hold on there. I suggested O'Rourke. She's good and-”
“ She's been working behind your back, with Raynack, and-”
“ I've known about that for a long time.”
“ And you did nothing about it?”
“ She's good.”
“ Is that all you can say?”
“ She's got the instincts of a barracuda, and that's what it takes in the department. As for me, I think I've missed out on enough living. I think I'll take the long vacation.”
“ That's crazy, Otto. You're the best in the FBI. We all know that. This just can't be true.”
“ I've weighed it all over and again, and I thank God I'm alive and that a woman like you could be interested in what I've become. But, kid, I'll understand it if you now decide that it's over between us.”
“ What? Dammit, Boutine, you can be insufferable.”
“ What did I say?”
She stood up, about to leave, but he stopped her. “I don't want to lose you, Jess, but-”
“ But you think I've been chasing you because of what you are instead of who you are, that I'm no better than O'Rourke? I don't need that kind of judgment call at a time like this. Otto. Now, please, let me by.”
He stood aside, staring after her, shaken by the sudden turn in their relationship. He had made a terribly wrong assumption about her. Just because O'Rourke was sleeping with Leamy…
He was interrupted by a waiter with a telephone, saying, “You are Inspector Boutine?”
“ Yes.”
“ Telephone, sir.”
The waiter hooked up the phone at the table and after a series of clicks, Joe Brewer came on. “Otto, you may want to cancel your flight back.”
“ What's that?” Something's come up. May be nothing, but who can tell? I'd like to hit you with it, see what you think.”
“ This to do with Lowenthal?”
“ Yeah.”
“ You saying that maybe Jess is right about him?”
“ Could be. Any rate, he may just be half of a duo.”
“ A team? He had help?”
“ Maybe, Otto-it's a strict maybe.”
“ Comes from where?”
“ Something in the apartment. Some things said by co-workers.”
“ At Balue-Stork?”
“ Right.”
“ Anything concrete, or is this just backscatter?”
“ He used a typewriter most of the time, but the few scraps we've found in his hand don't match the handwriting at all.”
“ It was printed, remember?”
“ He didn't habitually print, but when he did, it was not the same.”
“ Anything else?”
“ Some co-workers claimed he said he would one day stick it to Balue-Stork; that he was going into business with a partner to patent a new product. Sound familiar?”
“ So he was talking about himself, a second personality. The guy was a split-brain! You've seen the type-signing with his other self, this Teach character.”
“ But he went so far as to talk to a lawyer about drawing up papers between himself and his partner, to keep his partner from exploding, he told the lawyer.”