“Excellent thinking, Officer Briscoe,” Dover said, aside. “I was wondering how we were going to handle that very delicate situation. You pegged it.”
“Thanks, ensign. In my years of experience with crowd control on our jammed up highways, I‘ve become rather adept in the art of disinformation. It works. Saves lots of headaches, too.”
Smiling, Dover looked over at the boat, pointed and quietly asked, “So really. What was that about? Is the boat really that radioactive? Why?”
He hesitated, then answered, “Yes, I think so. Since you’ll be towing it back to the Sheriff’s marina, you need to know. It most likely is. Why? I can’t answer that right now. You’ll find out soon enough. Please keep this quiet from the public until they’re notified by the Sheriff’s office. You don’t want to start the panic I just avoided.”
“Yes, sir. I understand. How should I handle this with my office? Do they know?”
“No, not yet, but they will. I’m calling it in as soon as you leave. They’ll be expecting you.” He reached out with the Geiger counter, handing it over.
“Thank you, Officer Briscoe. We’ll be off now.” He saluted, turned, and raced to the hovercraft. Seconds later, its fans roared again. It skimmed over the sand, caught the boat’s fore line and dragged it back to the ocean, floating low in the water, heading north.
Watching it disappear into the distance from the front seat of his cruiser, he sipped cold coffee, ate a stale morning donut, then rested his head on the steering wheel for a moment, organizing his thoughts. Should he write up a report or not? Probably not. He would leave that to Poole.
According to his watch, it was four-fifteen in the afternoon when he speed-dialed Poole’s cell phone. He had already had a hectic day and he expected it would get busier. Not sure how she would handle the news, he dreaded making the call.
“Crime Lab. Poole here.”
“What’s up Lieutenant? Any more news?
She recognized his voice. “Hello, Officer Briscoe. Nothing more. Unfortunately, it’s been a slow day here. Our meeting ended early; the taskforce wanted to inform their home offices. What’s up with you?”
“Lots. I think I found Adam’s delivery vehicle washed ashore on Aliso Beach. It’s coming in hot to your marina. Ensign Dover, Coast Guard, is towing it in by hovercraft. Notify the harbor master to keep it isolated from all life and other boats by at least a fifteen-foot clearance.”
Her voice shrieked, “Oh my God, Briscoe, you found it? Are you sure of this?”
Pleased by her softening formality, he replied, “I’d stake my life on it. In fact I think I just did.”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“I put myself in a very hot zone before I realized it. Walked through the boat inspecting it. But only for a moment or two. Other than that I feel fine.”
Her voice changed to that of a concerned mother. “Briscoe, get your ass into our lab right now. Do not stop, do not pass go; I mean it. I’ll have an agent waiting to examine you. From what you’ve told me, you could be in real danger.”
He laughed and replied, “Yes, mom. I’ll be driving. I’m still here on Aliso Beach so give me forty minutes.”
“It will take me at least that long to get your news into the system.” She paused, “But how did you know?”
“Dumb luck, I guess. The boat just drifted, belly up, into my sight at my favorite stop. I had already given four tickets and I looked out at the ocean before I left. I saw it half-mile offshore washing in with the tide. A hunch kept me there until it beached itself. The Coast Guard did the rest”
“That’s an amazing story. Let’s hope your hunch was right. I’ll call our marina and give them a heads-up. Ensign Dover, right?”
“Yes, Ensign John Dover. Very sharp, competent fellow. He doesn’t know anything about the story, though, so he’ll have questions. Better clue his station commander in.”
“Yes, I’ve already thought of adding the coast guard and navy to our team. This is a good chance to do just that.”
“You’re gonna need a bigger room though,” he said chuckling.
Laughing back, she said, “Quit talking and get your butt in here. I’ve gotta go. This case just changed directions.”
He clicked off, radioed Dispatch that he was driving again, and headed off toward the crime lab.
“I’ve found him, the grim reaper,” Keller said into the phone.
Poole, on another line with the O.C. Sheriff’s marina, had placed them on hold to answer Deputy Keller’s beep-in. Those were his first words.
“My God, this must be my lucky day,” Poole exclaimed. “It’s feast or famine here with the news.”
After a short pause, Keller questioned, “How do you mean Lieutenant?”
“Nothing all day, then BAM, two breakthroughs in thirty minutes.”
“Oh? What’s the other one?”
“Officer Briscoe just called in a report that he found the boat used to launch Adam. It’s on its way to your salvage marina. Boiling hot.”
“Wow, that is great news, Lieutenant. With that information and mine, we may be able to finally identify our perp.”
“What about yours? Where did you find him?”
“In San Juan Capistrano at the Starbucks on Ortega. He popped up minutes after Briscoe parked and slipped the envelope through the cracked window on the cruiser’s passenger door, just as Briscoe suspected. He was dressed to resemble the grim reaper and I swear, when he turned toward the camera, I felt I was staring into the eyes of Hannibal Lecter from Silence of the Lambs. Spooky.”
A shiver ran up Poole’s spine. “Deputy Keller, can you bring us that tape? Or a copy?”
“I’m copying it onto a flash drive right now. I’ll bring it in as soon as I can. Shouldn’t be longer than an hour, depending on traffic.”
“See you then,” Poole said, clicking in the other call.
“I’m sorry, that was a deputy with some breaking news on this case. Now where was I?”
Completing the call five minutes later, she had warned the harbor staff to steer clear of the salvaged boat coming in behind the hovercraft. It reeked of toxic waste, she had said. It must be placed away from everything; consider it in quarantine. The ruse worked. It gave her more time to research the case without releasing sensitive data, possibly causing widespread panic. She planned to send Keller to supervise the quarantine when he returned. He already knew the case and could continue her deception.
CHELATION
He arrived at the crime lab’s front desk as the wall clock ticked five. Nodding at the workers passing by, leaving for the day, he asked the duty officer to page Lieutenant Poole for him. Instead, she told him to go on up. Poole was waiting.
At the third floor landing, Poole waited for him to arrive. She had timed it perfectly based on his ETA. Today, rather than leading him back to the SID Lab, she was taking him to another room. NUCLEAR FORENSICS LAB greeted him at the door.
“You okay,” she asked.
“I’m fine,” he replied, “a little hungry and bruised up, but I’m basically fine.”
Opening the door to the lab, she asked, “How did you get bruises?”
“Slipped in the boat and fell out. Fortunately, the sand broke my fall, but I hit a lot of fiberglass on my way down. Ate a lot of sand.”