They liked to kill and the more they killed the more they liked it. Their motives were unique unto themselves, so unfathomable, so bizarre, they defied analysis, common decency, and human empathy.
Reischman realized it was the enigma that hooked Larry Simon. There was no easy explanation for these awful crimes. They were obscene social puzzles and as such, had become worthy of Simon’s attention.
“I think I know what I want to do with my life,” he announced.
At twenty-two, armed with a strong recommendation from Reischman to Brooks and a confirming phone call, Simon was admitted to the FBI school and assigned to Brooks upon graduating. Simon would last five years before Brooks realized the young genius was getting antsy. He had been gathering data and talking to people in the field and he was getting bored. Brooks knew it was time for Larry Simon to hit the street.
Brooks called an old friend, Lou Stinelli, a commander in the NYPD, and for thirty minutes regaled one of Manhattan’s top cops with Simon’s unique qualities. Stinelli listened with more than casual interest. Brooks’ timing was perfect for Stinelli was in the process of putting together a unique project of his own: the TAZ.
“Why do you want to get rid of him?” Stinelli asked.
“I don’t, but he needs to leave now. He needs to be on the street. He needs to go after these people face-to-face.”
“Send him up,” Stinelli replied.
Needless to say, Stinelli was blown away by the man’s knowledge.
“So? What did you think of the session?” Cody asked Kate as they walked toward the little man.
“Fascinating. I gather you and Wolf think we have a serial killer on our hands.”
“Worst case scenario,” Cody said. “When you catch one like this it crosses everybody’s mind. So far we don’t have that much to go on. We have to follow what we do have and see where it leads.”
They reached Simon’s desk but he kept doing what he was doing and didn’t look up.
“Bet you a buck I know what you’re up to,” Cody said.
“That little birdy tell you?” Simon said with a wry smile, still pecking at the keys. “I know better. I always lose whether it’s a little bird, the big bad wolf, or an owl and a pussycat that’s been banging on your ear.”
Winters frowned but said nothing.
“Deep six on Stembler?”
The little man stopped typing and leaned back in his chair. “Just backing you up. I think that crack about him looking for a new candidate for a son-in-law is on the money. I did a probe on Handley. A guy in the company named Louis Nevins made the initial recruiting interview when Handley was a junior at Princeton. But Stembler himself went over there for the final interview and nailed him that day. I mean, he had Handley married into the family when he hired him.”
The little man looked up at Kate. “Welcome to hell central.”
“Thank you,” she said, shaking the hand he offered.
“Picked a great day to start.”
“So I gather.”
Simon looked back at Cody. “What did that birdy tell you?”
“Be careful but work fast.”
Simon chuckled. “Obscure, as usual.”
“You had to be there.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s what you always say. I’ve already run all the names we’ve gathered through the names and moniker base, including the maid and Nevins. No hits, they’re all clean. And no reference to the sister.” He chuckled a bit and added: “The Staten Island Fairy didn’t make the cut either.”
“You gonna run ViCAP or NCIC yet?”
“Maybe. What I like best is bleeding the guy. That’s a new one on me. I may start the trail by entering all three of Wolf’s findings. Death by piercing, double dose of drugs and exsanguination and see what happens.”
“How about the crime scene?”
“Probably bring up a lot of bondage hits. Handcuffing to the chair, blah, blah, blah. All that crap isn’t that uncommon.”
He paused for a moment or two staring at the screen.
“Maybe this wasn’t a sex crime,” Kate pondered aloud. “That what the birdy meant?”
“Maybe he meant be careful but don’t waste time. Maybe Androg would like to lead us down a blind alley at this point.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“This is your part of the show, Si. Play the hand you feel we’ve been dealt.”
“S.O.P.”
“I’m gonna get Kate straightened away and pick up Charley. I’ll be back in thirty, maybe we can grab a sandwich.”
“Roger that.”
Cody and Kate headed for the elevator.
“Do you have wheels?” He asked her.
“No. I rent when I need to go out of the city.”
“Now is as good a time as any to pick up a chair and lamp and anything else you want for the office.”
She smiled. “My lamp and chair are at my apartment. We’ve been together a long time.”
“That’s on the west side, right? Ninety-fourth just off West End near Riverside Park?”
“I see I have no secrets,” she laughed.
“It’s on your application,” he said. “You’ll need transportation and a strong arm. I’ll get you one of the vans and one of the guys in the garage to help you.”
“Thanks. Question?”
“Fire away.”
“I’m not sure I got everything you two were talking about back there.”
“You mean about the bird?”
“Well, yes. For starters.”
“Ah, that’s just Si speak. You’ll catch on. Everybody in this squad has strong instincts. That’s one of the reasons we’re here. He was verbalizing his.”
“Was he talking about the falcon?”
“He didn’t know we saw the falcon,” Cody answered as they got on the elevator.
14
Police Commander Lou Stinelli was sitting in his office at One Police Plaza talking to himself. His lips moved silently as he scanned the speech he had to make in a few days. And he was in a crappy mood. He would have preferred walking through fire than address the Ladies Auxiliary of the Policeman’s Support Group or any other group for that matter.
“Hey, why so grumpy?” his wife Valerie had asked as he got ready to leave that morning.
“You know why,” he grumbled.
“The ladies are going to drool all over you,” she said, smiling. “They always do.” She straightened his tie as he was on his way out the door. “You’re the best-looking guy in the NYPD.”
“Hah,” he said walking toward the waiting car.
“Hey!”
He turned toward her.
“I love hearing your talks. You always knock ‘em dead.”
He gave her a look.
She blew him a kiss and he finally smiled.
“You could get a brick wall to smile,” he said. ”How about dinner tonight?”
“Love it, Commander.”?
At 61, the Deputy Chief of Police Bureaus was everything the public wanted in a top cop. He was straight and tall, gruffly handsome, his jet black hair streaked white at the temples, his voice tough and commanding. The only son of Italian immigrants, he had climbed up the bureaucratic chain of command the hard way, rising from the meanest streets of New York to a position that many felt put him in line to be the next chief of the best police force in the country.
Stinelli was admired both as an innovative risk-taker and a devoted family man. His office was decorated with photographs of his family; his parents’ wedding photograph beside his own, his two daughters and son growing up, his mom always there in the background at first communions, high school graduations, weddings, frolicking with her seven grandchildren, standing beside her grandson, David, the day he was awarded his wings at the Air Force Academy.
Lou’s first words upon entering the office every morning were, “Hi Pop, I love you.” His father had died on the beach in Omaha the day Lou was born.