As they approached the rear of the trailer, a short, slender woman stepped out of the back. She had black hair, cut tight against her skull. She wore gray slacks, flat shoes, and a sleeveless blouse that showed off the olive skin of her arms. She reminded Riley of the girls who used to hang out behind his high school in the South Bronx and smoke cigarettes. She was as dark skinned as he was, and her face crinkled up as she came out into the bright sunlight. She eyed Riley and Merrit with little pleasure.
"You the feds?"
Riley pulled out the ID the pilot of the chopper had given him, identifying him as a special agent of the FBI. "Agent Riley. This is Doctor Merrit. She works with my team."
The woman didn't offer her hand. "I'm Lieutenant Giannini, Chicago homicide. This is a real pile of shit."
Riley stepped up next to her. "Can I take a look?"
Giannini shrugged. "Yeah. I wouldn't take the doc in, though, unless she's got a strong stomach." She pointed at a black van with Coroner stenciled on the side. "I gotta move the bodies soon. Would've had them outta here by now if the chief hadn't called and said you were coming."
They ignored Giannini's comment and climbed into the back of the trailer. Riley took in the bloody scene. He glanced at Merrit; she seemed detached, gazing at the bodies without expression. He walked through the trailer, noting the droppings near the front end among the straw. The Synbats must have ridden up there, hidden in the bales. No sign of the backpacks — not that Riley had expected to find them. Something had caused the two men to stop and open up the back. Had they heard something, or seen something in the rearview mirror? Maybe they spotted the Synbats trying to get out.
Riley hoped that the Chicago Police Department would assume that the feces were from horses and not investigate too thoroughly. He kicked some straw over the pile with his foot before he went out the back to rejoin the female detective. "You find anything in there?"
Giannini shook her head. "Just the two stiffs." She flipped open a notebook. "Wallets ID them as Jeremiah and Louis Sattler. The rig is Louis's." She closed the book. "The chief said you have some idea who did this and that I'm to cooperate with you." Her shoulders squared up and she looked Riley in the eye. "So what do you have, and why are the feds taking this over?"
"I work with the bureau's serial-killer task force. We've been tracking two men who we believe are responsible for some killings down in Tennessee. We think these two might have hitched a ride in this trailer and come up here."
Giannini reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of gum. She popped two pieces in her mouth without offering any. "Quit smoking last week. It helps a little." She chomped on her gum for a few seconds. "All right. What about you, Doc? What do you do for a living?"
Merrit turned slowly and looked at the police officer. "I work with Agent Riley. I do psychological profiles on killers."
"A shrink," Giannini nodded. "OK. Well, it don't matter much to me. The chief said this is your case now. I'd prefer not to have any of the citizens of my city killed, so I'll help you as much as I can. What now?"
Riley looked around. "Where was the truck found?"
"I'll take you there." Giannini gave some orders to a few uniformed cops and then led the way to an unmarked car. Riley got in the passenger side and Merrit sat in the back.
"These two guys — they must be pretty damn mean. I've seen some fucked-up bodies, but these about take the cake." Giannini glanced over her shoulder at Merrit. "I hope my language doesn't offend you, Doc."
Merrit appeared not to have noticed.
"Well, anyway, the weird thing is, are these guys cannibals or what? I mean those poor stiffs in there were missing some flesh."
Riley nodded as they pulled out of the parking lot. "Our suspects have done the same thing before to other bodies."
"Uh-huh." Giannini roared down the on ramp to the freeway and expertly cut her way through traffic then she clamped a small blue bubble onto the roof and pulled off the highway. "This is it. The truck was parked off the road right here."
Riley got out of the car and looked around. Buildings pressed up on all sides of the highway. "Do you have an estimate on time of death?"
Giannini watched the cars speeding by. "Rough guess is about an hour before the bodies were found. The coroner might be able to give us a little more accurate time." She popped her gum. "Hell, your suspects might've hitched another ride and be in another state by now."
Riley thought about the backpacks and the thousands of hiding places in the city, along with the ready supply of food. "No. They're here."
Giannini frowned. "How do you know that?"
"I can feel it." The words were out before he realized what he'd said.
Giannini looked at him closely. "A fed with feelings. That's a new one on me."
Riley ignored the comment. "Let's drive around a little."
They got back in the car, and Giannini took them off the interstate and cruised the surrounding neighborhoods. With a sinking feeling Riley took in the vast number of abandoned buildings and warehouses.
"What are you looking for?" Giannini asked.
"Just taking a look," Riley replied. "I've never been here before."
"You sound like you're from New York," Giannini noted.
"Yeah. The Bronx," Riley replied, his eyes flickering over the neighborhoods as they drove through.
"You Italian?" the detective asked.
"No. Irish and Puerto Rican."
"Hmm" was Giannini's only comment.
"What's that over there?" They had almost forgotten that Merrit was in the backseat. She pointed between the two of them.
"That's Soldiers' Field, where the Bears play," Giannini told her.
"The bears?"
Giannini looked at Riley with a raised eyebrow as she turned the corner and headed toward the large stadium.
"A professional football team," Riley explained.
"Stop here," Merrit said. Giannini stopped the patrol car at the start of an overpass that crossed a Gordian knot of railroad tracks running next to the stadium. A park stretched out on the far side of the overpass, leading to Lake Michigan. The landscape was well groomed and Riley doubted that the Synbats would be able to stay hidden long in there, although it was the only open area he'd seen since landing.
"What about the park?" Merrit asked, her thoughts obviously echoing his own.
Riley winced as Giannini swung her head from Merrit to him. "You think two nutcases would try to hide out in the park after slashing a couple of people?"
"They like nature," Riley explained lamely. "But you're right. They wouldn't go in there."
"Why are you so sure they haven't moved on? You said they moved here from Tennessee. Seems to me they'd be used to moving, and if they got any brains at all they wouldn't want to hang around here."
"Maybe they have," Riley said wearily. He was tired of playing games. He needed to dump the cop — she was asking too many questions. "Let's go to your headquarters. My boss should have arrived by now."
Giannini pulled a tire-squealing U-turn. The rest of the drive was made in silence.
Colonel Lewis was waiting in the police chief's office, neatly attired in a three-piece suit. He had been wooing the police chief and making sure that all information on the killings was kept from the media. The chief was more than happy to have the case taken off his already overburdened officers. A gone file was a cleared file.
"Anything you need, we'll be glad to give you a hand," the chief said as the meeting broke up. "I'm assigning Lieutenant Giannini full time to be your liaison. You tell her what you want and she'll get it for you."
Riley glanced sideways at the detective and saw her jaw set in a tight line. Lewis gave Riley directions to the safe house he'd established in the city, then Lewis took Merrit with him, leaving Riley with the detective to give her the list of information they required. Giannini led the way to a small cubicle that was piled high with file folders.