Two patrol officers, the first on the scene, had closed off the area. Luckily, the club had been closed, pending the investigation of the newly discovered crypt. Detective Larry McBride, with the major crimes division, had been the first to arrive. Craig and Mike had worked with him before. He was particularly mild mannered, but he had a brilliant mind and nothing deterred his focus.
Glad you guys are lead on this, McBride had told them. This is... Well, I believe we have a real psychopath on our hands. Bizarre! Wherever he killed her, he bathed away the blood. Ive got officers wholl be doing rounds with pictures of the dress. Pending notification of the so-called aunt who raised the girl, theyll be asking all her friends if she owned the dress. Its possible the killer obtained it.
Checked the label, Andrews had said. Its from Saks.
McBride had nodded. Nice dress. She looks like a princess. He paused. I have a daughter her age... So, anyway, no inside security by nightbut cops watching on the street. The men on duty swore no one went in until Roger Gleason opened up to wait for the archaeologists. Gleason says he comes in every day, even though the clubs closed for a few days. I interviewed him personally, and he seems to be on the up-and-up. Says hes personally not that interested in the historical stuff, but seeing that the work goes well will actually make his club more famous. Still, hes not one of those guys who lets his own property go unattended. He was working up hereand heard Shaws screams. Shaw swears there was no one down there at the time but him, an associate professor and a few grad students. I have names and numbers, which Ive emailed to you already. They were all questioned. I dont think they had anything to do with Ms. Gilberts death. The mystery here is, how the hell did the bastard get in with the body? Anyway, the security footage is down at your office now. And, of course, were hoping Forensics can come up with something. This killer...well, theyre calling in shrinks. You know, profilers. The murder was cold, swift and brutal. But then, the killer takes all this time with her. He comes in like a shadow, and then leaves her on display, waiting to be found. I talked with Egan, and Ive been hanging in for you guys. Actually, Im almost afraid to leave. Its a media frenzy out there.
By now, the frenzy on the streets involved more than just media. Word had spread; dozens of celebrity-stalkers and those inclined to the macabre had congregated outside the club.
New York Citys finest were dealing with the facility and crowd control.
Craig had questioned Gleason himself before leaving. He seemed like a Wall Street type, and although his club might be Goth, he was far more prone to the elegant in his manner and dress.
I need to talk to Shaw, Craig had said.
But Shaw wasnt there. Theyd heard that when hed first gotten up close and personal with the body, hed screamed like a banshee.
And Allie Benoit, John Shaws grad student and assistant, had told him that Shaw had spoken with the police, and then freaked out and fled. Allie was pretty sure hed gone to the pubthe pub whose back wall abutted that of the old church-turned-nightclub.
Finnegans.
He swore, walking around the corner and reaching the pub.
The damned man just had to go to Finnegans!
The pub had stood there almost as long as the church. It had seen the New York draft riots during the Civil War, and the violence of the Irish gangs that had once held huge sway in a city where immigrants poured in daily from around the world.
The pub had witnessed so much history.
Including the recent history of the diamond heist that had nearly cost his girlfriend her life.
She wont be involved! he said firmly, speaking aloud.
But before he entered, he knew, somewhere in his gut, that the die was already cast.
Of all the pubs in the world.
Finnegans.
CHAPTER TWO
AS HE ENTERED the pub, Craigs attention was all for his search. With luck, Kieran would be at the office today or
But, no, she walked directly over to him.
And he couldnt do what he wanted to dotell her that she wasnt to have the least interaction with anyone connected to the murder.
He didnt have the right to make that kind of demand.
And since she was here, she might have already served John Shaw, and John Shaw wouldve talked to her...
At the moment, though, he needed Shaw. Shed understand that; he never had to explain himself or his intentions to Kieran.
She knew what he did for a living; he knew about her professional work for Drs. Fuller and Miro. They respected each others professions and discussed things when they couldor when the other might have a useful insight. Or when, as occasionally happened, they became involved in the same case.
Fuller and Miro worked with the police and the FBI. They often gave their considered opinion of a suspected criminals state of mind or behavior.
Theyd been involved, all four of them together, in a situation beforethe so-called Diamond Affair.
But now...
He wanted to hold her and yet he couldnt; he was here professionally. He strode past her, his eyes on Shaw.
Even as he approached the booth where John Shaw was seated, he was still hating the fact that the church where Jeannette had been found was directly behind Finnegans. Hed come to terms with being in love with Kieranand the fact that she, too, dealt with criminals.
However, it was still difficult for him to accept that she was sometimes too quick to put herself in danger in defense of others.
Yes, it seemed to be a Casablanca moment.
Of all the old abandoned dug out holes in Manhattan, the damned catacombs just had to be close to Finnegans!
Too close... This place was too close to where a young woman lay dead, where her body had been stashed with the bones of those long forgotten.
Craig knew John Shaw, and Shaw knew him; theyd met at the pub several times when the professor had come for his professional meetings or get-togethersor when he just wanted to sip one of his ultra-lite beers and chill.
Craig! John said, looking up at him with surprise. IOh, my. Youre coming to see me. So I guess it should be Special Agent Frasier. Not Craig. Look, Im not sure what else I can say to anyone. All I know is that we opened that coffin and...and there she was.
Craig slid into the booth and smiled at him. You must be pretty rattled.
Yes. Youre here officially? The police told me not to say anything yet. They need to contact the poor girls family. I mean, thats why youre herecoming to me and not Kieran, right?
Yes, John, this is official. The NYPD detectives are on the case, of course, but were taking part, as well. Weve put together a task force. This as a very high-profile murder.
John nodded, his white hairsomething of a strange mullet cutflapping beside his ears. His glasses slid down his nose with his effort, and he pushed them back with his forefinger.
Of course. This needs to be solved fast, John said. But... His expression grew even more perplexed. I dont know how I can help any more. I dont know how I can help, period. Professor DigbyAldous Digby, one of my associatesand I were there, and three grad students. Oh, and two of the construction guys. The guys were watchingwaiting to get back to work. I didnt let them touch the coffin. Nice guys, but, you know, that coffin might be two hundred years old and, well, you need to have a delicate touch. And Ms. Gilbert... The second I saw her... I have to admit I screamed. I was rattled, as you said. But I made sure everyone got out. We did and then went up to the churchthe club areato wait for the police.
Right. So there were seven of you. I have the names, Craig said. He was certain that the meticulous Detective McBride had sent his email.
Hed also seen Jeannette Gilberts body at the site.
He winced, the picture of her still so clear in his mind. Her lovely, pale, perfect face. The white dress. The red rose.
John nodded. Seven of us were in thereand seven of us got out quicker than a flash. And we were all interviewed. He sighed loudly. Hell of a thing for the owner of that place. Theyve barely been open what, a month or two? Then they have to stop work and close up because an engineer finds the coffins in the dirt and then the catacombs. They bring us in, and... Sad. So sad. By God, she was beautiful! Poor thing.
Just to confirm, you were there yesterday, too? Craig asked.
Of course. I was there as soon as the situation was reported. He paused. Did you know that the land where the Waldorf Astoria sits was once a potters field? Think of how old this city is. A number of the parks we enjoy today were originally cemeteries. I worked the old slave cemetery they discovered a few years back, so it was natural that Id work on this one, too.
You started on the church yesterday?
Yes. I did. I was called yesterday morning, and I made arrangements to get there as fast as possible.
And then?
I assessed the location. I called in Digby and my assistant, Allie Benoit. You dont pry apart ancient caskets willy-nilly. We researched church plans, but the original architects plan is long gone. He shook his head. You must be familiar with what happened. The church sold the property to the club people. There was an outcry, not that it made any difference. But the building is so historic. Everyone wants to shop Fifth Avenue, see a show, bank on Wall Street. They forget that Wall Street was a wall. Canal Street was a canalor a cesspool, really. Those are all part of our citys origins, and we need to preserve history!
Craig nodded, although he wasnt convinced theyd needed to preserve the cesspool that had been Canal Street. He spoke quickly, not wanting the academic to bluster endlessly. What time did you get in there yesterday?
Lets see... They called us right around ten in the morning. I was there within the hour.
So, who was there then? Craig asked. Besides you and the colleagues and workers youve mentioned.
Oh, lots of people. Lets see, the manager and owner, Roger Gleason. Hed been working down by the construction area. They stored their booze down therein the old crypt they knew about, I mean, with the coffins and bodies all gone now. Its a foundation, a basement. The basementthe cryptswere far more extensive than people realized. The wall had hidden some of the old coffins and shrouded corpses, so when some of the corpses were moved, the second crypt was missed.
Okay. Anyone else know what was going on?
At least two construction workers and one of the barmaids-slash-dancers. Have you seen what they do in there? She was dressed up in a little black bra and skirt and wearing some wicked makeup. The girls dance on tables when theyre not handing out booze.
So, employees, construction workersanyone else?
Oh, yeah, the rep from the historic preservation group. Henry Willoughby. Loves history. Hes not a scientist, but hes a great hands-on guy, ready to protect the past and help out if he can. The man loves New York and studied history and architecture. His wife passed away a while back, and now he gives all his love to the city. He stayed long enough last night to check in with us, make sure we were ready to catalog the bodies and the artifacts we found. I wouldve brought in more crew, but
Who stayed, then? Who was actually there when you kept working?
Me, Digby showed up, my grad studentsplus a structural engineer and a construction worker, all to see that we didnt bring down a wall, I assume. He cleared his throat. Of course, after I initially went in yesterday, the construction guys created a kind of door for us.
How long were you there yesterday?
It was almost midnight before I left. I didnt touch or open anything. I stepped over the holewhere the wall broke when they were working on the foundationsinto the crypt beyond. Digby and my grad students and I were there. We make drawings and assessments and plan before we start the actual work, so, yes, Id say it was midnight. By then, of course, the vampire dancers were gone and all the club people had been told to go home. Once they made the findthe second cryptthey closed down, of course, but people were hanging around. Its...its history being reclaimed! Roger Gleason, the owner, seems like a nice guy. He has a conscience and some perspective on whats important. We didnt have to get court orders or anything. He simply agreed to close for a few days. They had patrol officers covering the place, making sure that once the news about the crypt got out, some Goth freak or necrophilia-pursuing creep didnt try to break in.
Craig nodded. He knew the answers to most of what he was asking; he just wanted it from Shaw and he wanted to ensure that their facts were straight.
Yesterday, Shaw said, you understand, was discovery day. I planned where to put some lights. I judged the space for people and decided on equipment. I did all the assessments, got my ducks in a row, you know what I mean?
Craig nodded again. This morning when you arrivedwere things exactly as youd left them?
What?
Had anything youd done been changed? Were tools missing, anything like that?
Shaw frowned. I...I dont think so. I dont get it. Id roped off different areas in the basement for my people. We had our little brushes and chisels and...no, Im positive that our work tables were the way wed left them, he said. He leaned forward. Didnt Ms. Gilbert disappear about two weeks ago? She didnt look as if shed just been killed. She...she was beautiful as she lay there, but decay had set in. I guess down there, with the cool temperature, natural decay wouldnt be what it would up here. He briefly closed his eyes. If she was embalmed, she wasnt embalmed well, but she was dressed up. As if shed been prepared for a viewing. Seeing her gave me chills! Chills! And I work with the dead all the time. When did she die?
The medical examiner is estimating her death to have been between one and two weeks ago. Hell tell us more definitively when hes done the autopsy.
So, you think that
I dont think anything yet, Craig said. We need more information from the experts before I can even speculate. Go on, please, tell me about this morning.
Okay, John said. This morning. He looked longingly at his scotch glass.
It was empty.
You want another? Craig asked.
Yeah, John said huskily. Yeah. The long dead are one thing. Fresh corpses...or not so fresh corpses...
Craig knew what he meant.
He had seen the body.
He scanned the bar area but didnt see Kieran. Declan Finnegan, howeverlooking like an old-time Irish bartender as he dried a glass, decked in a white apron tied around his waistwas behind the bar.
Craig walked over to him. Declan, he knew, had been fully aware that Craig was in the pub and that hed been talking to John Shaw.
You want another scotch for him? Declan asked.