Deadly Visions Page 12

  Pieces of glass and wood framing fell as Joe ran to the window and thrust his head outside. Four stories up didn't leave much chance of—

  Bammm.A blow from below.

  He caught himself before he could be impaled on the daggers of glass protruding from the window frame.

  his head throbbed.

  His vision blurred.

  He finally angled his gun down as he peered out the window. The figure had jumped to the fire escape on the building next door. He kicked in a window, and a shrill burglar alarm sounded.

  The alarm obviously startled the man, as he flinched and dropped his knapsack to the street below. He watched it for a moment, then jumped through the broken window and disappeared into the dark building.

  Joe stood and pulled out his cell phone.

  Shit.

  Half an hour later, Howe knocked on the open front door of Joe's apartment. “Jeez, Bailey. You should start leaving out snacks so all of your intruders can have something to munch on.”

  Joe sat at his dining table, unzipping the knapsack that his visitor had dropped. “Did the patrol cars come up with anything?”

  “Nah, the guy's long gone. He got out through a ground-floor window in the building next door. At least you know this one's flesh and blood, right?”

  Joe reached into the knapsack and pulled out a silver electronic instrument equipped with a bicycle-grip handle and a foot-long protruding wand.

  Howe moved closer. “Is that one of your toys?”

  “No. The guy dropped it.”

  “What is it?”

  Joe turned it over in his hands.”It's a trifield meter.it measures electrical and magnetic energy and records the data in a memory chip.”

  “You think maybe he ripped it off one of your neighbors?”

  “I don't think so.” Joe pushed a button and studied the small LCD screen on the unit's upper surface. “There's a time stamp on here. The guy was using it just before I came in.”

  “In your apartment? Why?”

  “These things are often used to detect the presence of paranormal activity.”

  “You're kidding.”

  Joe shook his head. “Some people believe that paranormal occurrences are accompanied by surges of electrical energy that linger for hours or even weeks afterward.”

  “What kind of occurrences?”

  “Supposed telekinetic activity, spirit visitations, you name it.”

  Howe squinted at the device.”And it really works?”

  “Well, it does measure energy waves, but you're likely to find variances in any room. Near cell phones or microwave ovens, for instance, or near improperly shielded power lines. But it makes the believers feel more scientific, trying to measure something that can't normally be quantified.” Joe put down the tri-field meter and peeled off his gloves.

  Howe glanced around the apartment. “Anything missing or disturbed?”

  “Nothing. It looks like someone found out about what happened here last night. I hope he came away with more answers than I have.”

  A sharp knock at the door. Howe answered it, andCarla strode into the room. She was breathless. “Hi, Joe.”

  “Hi. Are you okay?”

  Carla swallowed.”Has anyone called you yet?”

  “About what?”

  Carla pointed to the dining table's glass top. “Do you clean that thing often?”

  “What?”

  “Please. Answer me.”

  “Uh, sure. With an eleven-year-old in the house? I probably wipe it down a couple times a day.”

  “That's what I thought. The fingerprint guys got a couple of decent prints from it last night, clean off the surface. They ran them through the FBI database and got a match.”

  “Anybody we know?”

  She hesitated.”Joe, the prints were your wife's.”

  Joe walked quickly down the white-tiled corridor that led to the forensics lab. Word must have gotten out, he thought. The cops downstairs had given him some pretty weird looks. Not that he blamed them.

  Carla and Howe were with him. They had offered to drive him to the station, but Joe needed the car time to himself, to absorb what he'd just been told.

  Angela's fingerprints on his dining room table. Je-sus. Thank goodness Nikki wasn't around tonight, but how long could he keep this from her?

  He pushed open the forensics lab doors and walked past the rows of white cubicles that bordered the room. In the back corner, Graham Martin stood at his video telescope.

  Martin greeted Joe with a handshake. “I had dinner plans tonight, but I figured you'd want to see this.”

  “I appreciate that. What do you have?”

  Martin pointed to a video screen mounted overthe console. A fingerprint appeared on the left half of the screen, magnified a hundred times its actual size.”Okay, this is the print they lifted from the glass tabletop in your apartment yesterday. The database narrowed it to four possible matches. I honestly didn't even notice the names until I eyeballed them and found the one true match.”

  “Angela,” Joe whispered.

  Martin clicked the mouse on his console and brought up another fingerprint. “This is the print of your wife's first digit—her index finger—and, as you can see, it's unmistakable. Tell me, did your wife have a criminal record?”

  Joe nodded. “She was arrested sometime during her college years. A protest at an animal testing facility got out of hand, and they took her in. She was probably fingerprinted then.”

  Martin gestured toward another set of fingerprint slides on his console.”In the past few minutes, I think I've found another set of your wife's prints. Her thumbprint and two fingerprints were on a glass vase.”

  Are you serious?”

  Martin nodded. “I'm pretty sure it's another match.”

  Joe stared at the slides. “I really don't think she could have left these prints before she—”

  Martin cut in. “These are all fresh. Skin oils are a magnet for dust particles, and there's no way that they're three years, or even three weeks, old. I would guess that they were left just a few hours before they were lifted.”

  Joe managed a smile. “Someone's trying to screwwith my head. And, I might add, doing a good job of it.”

  Martin pulled a chair from a nearby cubicle.”Here. Sit down.”

  Joe couldn't take his eyes from the fingerprints on Martin's screen.

  Angela.

  He took a deep breath.

  Stay cool. Detach.

  He finally turned back to Martin. “How could somebody have faked this? How would youdo it?”

  “Well, I'm not sure there's a way to—”

  “Think.With prosthetics?”

  Martin looked doubtfully at the monitor. “They would've needed access to her prints. Then they would have had to sculpt the print, taking care to recreate every ridge and every swirl, using some material with the same contact properties as human skin.”

  “There are people who can transcribe pages of the Bible onto the head of a pin.”

  “Only after decades of practice,” Martin said. “And then there's the skin oils.”

  “Wait a minute,” Joe said. “Is it possible to extract DNA from those oils?”

  “Doubtful. We've tried to do it, but it's almost impossible.”

  “Almost?”Joe asked.

  “Even if we were able to do that, we'd need a DNA sample to match it with.”

  “We could get it from my daughter. Angela's mother is still alive too. You can link it with family members. That would work, wouldn't it?”

  Martin shrugged.”Yes, provided we could extract a usable strand from the print, but I'm telling you—”

  “Try,”Joe said.

  “The labs that do this kind of thing are backed up for weeks, even months. It's very expensive, and I'm afraid that the department won't authorize—”

  “I'll pay for it myself. Whatever it costs.”

  Carla patted his arm. “Come on, Bailey. You just need some time to get y
our head around this one.”

  “I mean it,” Joe said. “Be careful with those print samples. Pull any favors that you have to, but I need this.”

  Suzanne Morrison gave Joe a wary look. “It's not nice to keep a lady waiting.”

  Joe stopped in the hallway near his apartment. Shit. In all the confusion, he'd totally forgotten that he was supposed to meet Suzanne.”God, I'm so sorry. It's been a hell of a night.”

  “I can see it on your face. Did you hear Angela's voice again?”

  “Not exactly. I'll tell you about it when we get inside.” Joe pulled out his keys.

  “Where's Nikki?”

  “At a friend's. She's absolutely convinced that her mother was here last night. It breaks my heart.”

  “I thought you were keeping an open mind these days.”

  “I'm trying to, but I don't want to see Nikki hurt.”

  “How about you?”

  “There are more likely possibilities that I want to explore first.”

  “That's why I'm here.”

  Joe unlocked his apartment door and walked inside with Suzanne. “Before we do anything else, let me tell you what happened.” Joe told her about his visitor and the fingerprint results.

  Suzanne's eyes widened.”Okay, you're officially excused for being late.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How are you holding up?”

  “I'm a little shell-shocked. I don't know how I'm going to explain this to Nikki.”

  “If you want me to leave, we can do this another time.”

  “No. I'll show you where I heard the voice.” He led Suzanne to his bedroom and toward the walls opposite his bed. “It came from that general direction. I couldn't localize the sound. It appeared to be shifting in space.”

  Suzanne reached into the paper bag she'd been holding and pulled out a small box.”I bought this at a medical supply house today. It cost me eleven hundred dollars, so it'll be going back very soon.”

  “What is it?”

  “It's a telephone amplification device.” She opened the box and showed him a thick silver object approximately two inches in diameter. “Hearing-impaired people can take it with them when they travel.” Suzanne walked to Joe's desk in the corner of the room, unscrewed the telephone earpiece, and replaced the receiver unit with the one she'd brought. She screwed the earpiece back onto the phone.

  “Just like that?”Joe asked.

  “Yep.” She pulled out her cell phone, punched twobuttons, and Joe's phone rang. She picked up the handset and balanced it on the cradle.

  Joe raised his eyebrows. “I'm still on your speed dial.”

  “So is a pizza delivery place that went out of business three years ago. Don't read anything into it, I'm just too lazy to update this thing.” She spoke into her cell phone.”Hello, Joe …”

  The sound filled the corner of the room.

  Startled, he stepped backward. “Jesus. Is there a subwoofer connected to that thing?”

  “Impressive, huh?” She was still speaking into the phone. “You can adjust the timbre to almost any frequency you want. With the bass turned up, it really adds presence. Is there any chance that your phone receiver was propped up off the hook last night? Whoever it was could've dialed your number and left the connection open until you went to bed.”

  Joe looked at the phone. “Very clever, but I don't think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “Nikki used this phone line to call me at the office after she and Sam found that the apartment had been rearranged. If this phone was off the hook, she couldn't have dialed out.”

  “There may be a way around that.”

  “Maybe, but it just didn't sound like this. I'm telling you, the voice didn't come from down there. It was higher up and seemed to be moving. The sound was also much more full-bodied.”

  Suzanne turned off her cell phone. “Too bad. I once ran into a spiritualist in Lagrange who used this setup. I thought it might have been used here.”

  “I'll definitely remember this if someone tries to pull it on me. Any other ideas?”

  “Not offhand.” She glanced around the room. “I'll give it some thought though. I'm sure I'll think of something.”

  “Thank you, Suzanne.”

  She unscrewed the telephone earpiece and repackaged the receiver. “You want it to be true, don't you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You want it to be her.”

  “To beAngela?”Joe looked down.”Of course. But I can't let that stop me.”

  “There's a way we can find out.”

  “How?”

  She stared at Joe. “You know how.”

  “One of your sÉances?”

  She nodded.

  “No, I've told you before. I'll never use her like that. Her memory is too precious to me.”

  “This is different.”

  “The hell it is. What would your sÉance prove?”

  “It might prove to you that I'm not a fake.”

  “No. Most spiritualists I investigate have probably done a complete rundown of Angela, hoping I'll use her. Twice I've been tipped off by private detectives—ex-cops—who've been hired by these scam artists to put together files on her. It would prove absolutely nothing.”

  Suzanne shrugged. “I thought you'd say that. The offer's always open.”

  “Thanks, but let's keep things a little more earth-bound, okay?”

  “If you insist.”

  He glanced around the apartment. “I told Nikki I'd be seeing you tonight. She was happy about it.”

  “She's a great kid.”

  “Yeah. Think maybe you'd like to get together with us sometime?”

  Suzanne didn't speak for a moment. “I'm not sure if that's such a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “I think we need a better idea of where we stand with each other first. If you want me as your friend, that's fine. If you want more, that's something we should discuss. But it wouldn't be fair to her if you let me get close to her and then just cut me out of your lives again.”

  Joe stepped close to her.”It wouldn't be fair to you either.”

  “No, it wouldn't.”

  His face was only inches from hers. “I'm sorry. You deserved a hell of a lot better than that.”

  “I still do.”

  “I know.” She held his gaze.”Joe, I'm not sure—”

  A sudden strong knock at the door broke into her words. Joe walked over and checked the peephole. Before he could make out who it was, a deep voice boomed,”Are you waiting on a retinal scan, boy?”

  Joe unlocked the door, opened it, and was immediately locked in a massive bear hug.

  He struggled to catch his breath.”Hi, Dad.”

  Cal Bailey drew back. He had a head of thick silver hair, a chiseled face, and a muscular physique that would have been the envy of men half his sixty-eight years. “Why didn't you call, son?”

  Joe gestured for his father to enter. “About what?”

  “About the fact that the Hula Hoop is coming back,” Cal said sarcastically as he strode into the apartment. He stopped when he saw Suzanne. “Hello there. I hope I'm not intruding.”

  “Of course not,” Joe said. “This is Suzanne Morrison. She's a friend who's helping me on a case. Suzanne, this is my father.”

  Suzanne smiled as she shook Cal's hand. “It's very nice to meet you. I was just leaving, Mr. Bailey.”

  “Call me Cal.” He turned back to Joe. “If I'm cramping your style, too bad. I hit the road as soon as I heard.”

  “Heard what?”

  “About your visitor, the fingerprints, everything.”

  Joe checked his watch. “You must have heard about the fingerprints before I did. For you to drive all the way from Savannah …”

  “In case you've forgotten, I have connections in the department.”

  Joe closed the door. It made sense. Dad still had a lot of friends on the force, and it was only natural that someone would have called him
.”Sorry. I didn't want to bother you with it.”

  “Bother? When family members help each other, it's not a bother. It's what families do, right?”

  “Right.”

  Suzanne excused herself, motioning for Joe to call her. He closed the door behind her.

  Cal smiled.”A real looker. I'll get her story later, but right now I want you to tell me about everything that happened here.”

  “Do you want to take your coat off first?”

  “Later. Tell me what happened.”

  Joe told him about the strange voice, his intruder, and the fingerprint results, but it was obvious that his father had already heard about them from one of his police buddies.

  Cal shook his head. “You're looking at this the wrong way, boy. Don't worry so much about howthey did it. If you can figure out who and why, the rest will follow.”

  “I haven't the slightest idea who,and I haven't the foggiest notion why.”

  Cal shrugged.”Unless it is a spirit of some kind.”

  “Come on, Dad.” He frowned.” You'd better not talk like that when Nikki's around.”

  “How's she doing with this?”

  “She doesn't know about the fingerprints yet. She's spending the night with a friend. I don't know what I'm going to say to her.”

  “Don't worry so much about Nikki.”

  “How can I not? She's just a—”

  “—a smart kid who's more mature than you give her credit for,” Cal interjected. “You need to take care of yourself, Joe, or you'll be no good for her. You look terrible. Have you slept in the past couple of days?”

  “Not much.”

  “Look, I'm going to stick around for a while. I have someone who can look after the theater while I'm gone. I can only imagine what this has been like for you.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Nikki will be really glad to see you. And—I'mglad too.”

  Cal stood. “Well, I'll get out of your hair.”

  “What do you mean? You're staying, aren't you?”

  “I got a buddy here in town I'm staying with.”

  “That's crazy. It's late.”

  “Ah, no problem.” Cal walked toward the door.

  Joe followed him. “Dad, this couch folds out. Why don't you just bring in your bags, and—”

  Cal opened the door and gave Joe another big hug.”I got it covered. See you in the morning, Joe.”