“Clothes?”
“Oh yeah,” Zalewski said, puffing out his cheeks as he strained against the oars. With the hooks down, the boat was tough to move. “The guy always leaves us clothes, doesn’t he?” He brought the oars around again. “Blue workshirt, gray felt hat, dingy green underwear. Shirt and underwear have bloodstains. Probably knife marks. So where does that get us?”
“Nowhere. As usual.” Merylo sighed. “Want me to take a turn at the oars?”
“Nah. I got it.”
Merylo nodded. Even if Zalewski was his assistant, he didn’t want the man to think that meant he had to do all the rowing. Then again, it was pretty hot outside…
“Mind if I ask you a question?”
Merylo thought a moment. “I suppose that depends on the question.”
“What d’ya think of that Ness guy?”
“I think he’s our superior.”
“He isn’t even on the police force.”
“Nonetheless.”
“But what do you think of him? What do you think of him taking over our case?”
“It’s not like he wanted it.”
“I don’t know,” Zalewski said, bringing the oars around again. “My Myrtle says she thinks he’s a glory hound. He knows the torso case is where the headlines are.”
Merylo shook his head. “Whatever else he may be, Ness is smart. Very smart. He knows this case is quicksand. Great exposure if we catch the killer, but who knows how long that may take? No, he was much happier dealing with traffic lights and gin joints. Things he could control.”
“You think he really wants to work with us? ’Cause my Myrtle thinks he’s just using us. For if we don’t catch the killer. He’s gonna use us as… as… what was her word?”
“A scapegoat?”
“Yeah. That was it. What d’ya think?”
“I think if we don’t catch the killer-soon-it’s not going to be pretty for anyone.”
“But we got no clues! How can anyone expect us to catch a killer when we got no clues?”
“People aren’t interested in excuses. They want to stop being scared. Even though there are a thousand other things out there to be scared of, what with what’s going on in Europe and all. But right now the Torso Killer has their attention. They want him stopped.”
“Even if we do stop him, I bet Ness takes all the credit.”
“Is that what Myrtle thinks?”
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
Merylo smiled. “I’m sure Ness would acknowledge our valuable contribution.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure. Haven’t you noticed? Whenever someone brings up Capone, he always reminds them that a lot of people worked on that case. It was a team effort.” He gazed across the pond. “But how many of those people does he mention by name? How many have you seen in the papers? His apparent modesty just makes him seem all the more important.”
“Maybe we should catch the killer and not tell him.”
“Maybe Ness will catch him and not tell us.”
“Really? You think so?”
“Anything’s possible. The only thing that really bothers me is- Ness has no background in police work. He may know how to bust up mobsters-known entities who aren’t hiding. But he has no experience with detective work. And he’s running the show.”
“So what are you gonna do about that?”
“I’m going to do whatever the safety director tells me to do,” Merylo said. “But I have a few plans of my own.”
“Like what?”
Merylo didn’t answer. He turned his attention to the near shore, where thousands of people were still watching the show. “We need to fan out. Search the area. Talk to people.”
“How we gonna do that? We can’t even get enough men to keep the crowd in line.”
Merylo slowly turned to look at his assistant, drenched in sweat from rowing the boat. “Zalewski-you’re brilliant.”
“I am?”
“I think you’ve just answered your own question.”
“I have?”
“We need more able-bodied men. And I see about a zillion of them on that shore.”
“You’re not thinking-”
“I am.”
“That’s crazy!”
“Maybe.”
“You can’t pay them.”
“I won’t have to.”
“It’ll be chaos.”
“It already is. But I can tolerate some chaos. If it gets us our killer.”
“Listen to me!” Merylo bellowed, trying to be heard above the roaring crowd. “I need your help!”
“You sure do!” someone shouted back. Half the crowd laughed in response. The noise was thunderous.
Merylo began to wonder if this had been a very bad idea. He was perched on a wooden ledge on the edge of the pond, atop a dumping platform, to increase his visibility to the crowd.
“Listen to me. Please!”
Eventually, the tumult subsided. “We need to search the area. The whole Run. Look for clues. A head, for instance. Maybe a witness who saw the body get dumped.”
“Isn’t that what the police are for?”
“The police are stretched to the outer limits. We got all these conventions in town, plus these murders and a lot of other crime. It would take days for my men to search the area, and by that time the trail might be cold.”
“What’s in it for us?” someone shouted. “We need cash.”
“I can’t pay you.”
“If you don’t pay, we don’t work.”
“Why? You got something better to do?” That got a large laugh. Merylo liked it better when they were laughing with him, not at him. There were a lot more of them than there were of him. “Listen, some of you people live out here. Do you like having this killer running around slaughtering people? Do you feel safe?”
“No!” came a chorus of replies.
“Then help me stop him. Be my foot soldiers. I’ll be here all night long. If any of you find something, you report back to me. Let me split you up into groups so you can canvass the area. Systematically. There’s enough of you to cover the whole Run before nightfall. What do you say?”
As Merylo expected, he received a mixed response. That was okay. He didn’t need all of them.
“All right then. If you’re willing to help, line up over here. Let’s send a message to this monster. Let’s tell him that if he goes after the Run-we’ll go after him!”
Another enthusiastic response. Merylo felt like Henry the Fifth on the eve of battle. These people would probably encounter less danger. But they were no less important to the cause.
He gazed out into the crowd. What a motley, ragtag assortment of humanity. He saw men in tattered clothes; he saw men in three-piece suits. He saw sunbaked faces and calloused hands; he saw men who obviously had never done a day’s labor in their life. He saw some who had already ruined their lives with booze or drugs; he saw some whose lives were just beginning. The employer and the unemployed. The book-educated and the street smart. And a few who appeared to have no smarts at all. Didn’t matter. He could use them all.
“All right, you four, take the east side of Thirty-seventh and walk due north until you reach the tracks…”
35
The last guest arrived just after midnight. Ness intentionally kept the lights dim in the apartment, ostensibly because he didn’t want to attract attention, but more importantly because he wanted to strike the proper mood, one of mystery and intrigue. He had to ignite these men’s sense of adventure for his plan to succeed. He knew many of them read the pulp magazines that were so popular these days-even if they would never admit it; he’d seen one in The Banker’s briefcase. The Shadow, The Spider, Doc Savage, Weird Tales. Ness had read one or two himself, when he had time and he was sure no one was watching. They seemed to thrive on exotic wonders, on the premise that the reader was being inducted into a secret society known only to a chosen few. That was exactly the kind of atmosphere he wanted to create tonight.