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.
Declan was the oldest of the Finnegans; he wore his sense of responsibility and dignity well. All the Finnegan family were attractive and charming people with different degrees of red in their hair, and they all had eyes in varying shades of blue. Even a casual observer had to note that they were related.
Declan tended to be the most serious in demeanor. He didnt ask questions, not of Craig; he knew hed learn what was going on if and when it was appropriate.
Thanks, Craig said. Any idea where Kieran is?
She and Kevin were helping out before. Im not sure where they went. He poured the scotch. Anything for you?
Soda water.
Declan quickly poured him a glass from the fountain, and Craig returned to the table. Where the hell had Kieran gone?
She was helping out her brother today, which meant she was working here somewhere. If he was going to start worrying every time she wasnt in sight, hed need to get a psych evaluation himself.
John Shaw took the scotch from him; it looked as if he was going to gulp it down. Craig set a hand on his. Hey, thats prime stuff, my friend. Sip it.
Yeah, yeah, of course, Shaw murmured.
Okay, so, you got in today
Early. Just after seven. This is an important true find. The historical value is immense.
Of course. I understand, Craig assured him. So, today. You havent opened any of the other coffins in the catacomb, have you?
No. Some of the coffins have disintegrated, and the remains are down to bones and dust and spiderwebs. Remnants of fabric...belt buckles, shoe buckles... John rambled, studying the amber liquid in his glass.
But you found Ms. Gilbert in the first coffin?
Shaw nodded glumly.
What made you open that one first? Craig asked.
The question seemed to confuse Shaw for a minute. It seemed to be the best preserved. He paused, staring up at Craig. Actually, it was at an odd angle on the shelf. As if it had been moved. Oh...that was obviously because someone had been there! Theyd put her body in it!
Do you remember it being that way the day before?
No! That mustve been it. There was something different! John Shaw said. I didnt realize it immediately. It was such a...subtle difference. The thing is, I thought Id start with the best preserved, but so did He frowned at Craig. It was definitely the best preserved. And someone else knew that, too. Her killer.
Jeannette had been dead at least a week, possibly two. But shed been placed in that coffin in a forgotten crypt much more recently than that.
The killer had learned about the historical find, and hed made use of it for his own designs.
Excuse me, Craig said abruptly. Ill be right back.
He wanted to see where Kieran was; it suddenly seemed important.
She wasnt at the bar. She wasnt on the floor.
He hurried down the hallway to the office, not bothering to knock.
Kieran was there, and Craig let out a sigh of relief.
But then he saw that she wasnt alone. She was sitting there, on the sofa in front of the desk, talking earnestly with her twin brother, Kevin.
They both looked up at him, startledand their expressions could only be described as guilty.
* * *
Kieran jumped up, looking at Craig and then Kevin.
Hey, she said, talking to her brother first. Youve got that auditionyou better get going!
Yep, right, Kevin said, rising quickly. Definitely. Craig, are you involved in the situation over at the old church? No one is supposed to know anything yet, but I think that everyone everywhere knows that the body of Jeannette Gilbert was found in an old coffin. I think someone tweeted it. So much for the please keep silent request. Im sorry. Sounds terrible. But, what is the FBI doing in on it?
Theres a similarity to another murder, down in Virginia, Craig said. We may be looking at a serial killer.
Oh? Kevin said. So... His gaze fell on Kieran, and his voice sounded a little sick. Youre going to be involved with the investigation?
Craig nodded. Lead for the FBI.
Better get going, Kevin, Kieran said. This is truly so horrible, but we all have to keep working.
Yeah. Ill see you all later tonight, Kevin said, and headed out of the office.
When he was gone, Kieran looked at Craig.
What was that all about? he asked her.
Thatwhat? she asked.
I sometimes wonder how your brother manages to be an actor. Hes a horrible liar.
What did he lie about?
What are you lying about?
She arched her brows, wishing shed met and fallen in love with an auto mechanic, a taxi driveranyone but an FBI agent.
Since I havent said anything, I havent lied about anything, either! she protested. He wouldnt let it be, she thought. Hell, he was an investigator. It was what he did. But what could she say? Betray a confidence?
Its about Kevins love life, she said. There. That was the truth. And Im just notWell, you know, you cant talk to me sometimes and I cant talk to you.
It was the semitruth, but he probably wouldnt have let it go at that. Except that her cell phone started ringing and she pulled it from her jeans pocket. Caller ID quickly informed her that it was one of her two psychiatrist bosses, Dr. Fuller.
Hey, she said, answering the phone gratefully. Is everything all right? We did decide to close today, right?
We diduntil about an hour ago, Dr. Fuller said, his tone regretful. I was actually planning a day of tennis.
The man was very good at what he did; beyond being a gifted psychiatrist, he had an unbelievable wealth of knowledge in all things related to his fieldhis pharmaceutical awareness was nearly uncanny. He could rattle off the names of dozens of drugs, what they did for what, and who should and shouldnt take them with greater ease than most people could recite the alphabet. He could offer empathy that would crack the hardest core, and be staunch and unwavering when needed.
He also looked bizarrely like a pinup underwear model and loved his wife and the game of tennis with absolute passion.
Oh? Kieran said, looking over at Craig and wondering if he could or couldnt hear her employers words as well, since he was standing so close to her.
Weve gotten a call from Assistant Director Richard EganCraigs boss, Fuller said.
Oh? she repeated, certain now from his wary expression that Craig could hear the conversation. But this was not unusual; her bosses were frequently called in as consultants by the NYPD, the FBI and other local law-enforcement agencies. As the doctors psychologist, Kieran often worked on evaluations for those perps in custody, and with the doctors on identifying the personality type of those still at large.
He wants us in on the old church murder. Theyll have someone up from Quantico, he told me, but, for the moment, he wants us in. Im on my way, but Im up in Connecticut. I was thinking you might go overits right by Finnegans.
Im at the bar now.
Can you go over right away? Im not sure how long theyll keep the body in situ, and I want our own photos, notes of everything you see. Can you go?
She glanced at Craig. He was wearing a very hard expression.
Of course, Kieran said. Special Agent Frasier is right in front of me. Hell be happy to see that Im accompanied over.
Great. Ill see you as soon as traffic allows, Dr. Fuller said.
Craig groaned aloud. I dont like this one, he said softly. I dont like it at all. I really wish that you werent involved.
Craig
He lifted a hand to stop her. I know. Its what you do. I just wish that it wasnt what you did on this particular case.
Because of Kevin, shed wind up involved one way or the other. Better that shed been asked to go in; better that she could see the victim and the surroundings before trying to understand the psyche of the person who could do such things.
She smiled. Though she was fairly tall herself, she stood on her toes to plant a quick kiss on his lips.
Face it. You dont want me involved in any case.
Okay. True. But, this...well, I guess youll see for yourself. It isntit isnt something you should see. It isnt something anyone should see, and its sure as hell something that never, ever should have happened. But...
Im careful. Im always careful, Craig, you know that. And I love my work with the doctors, even if its usually in an office.
Lets go, then, he said.
They left the office. While Craig dismissed the professor, Kieran spoke quickly with Declan, apologizing for running out, especially when the pub was now filling up. People who were never downtown were downtown that day. People who had nothing to do with architecture, churches, clubs, archaeology or anthropology. Despite police preference, Twitter had broadcast the news.
The building that had once been a place of worship and now housed Le Club Vampyre was, beyond a doubt, beautiful. It was grand and tall with flying buttresses. Gargoyles had been created for every rain gutter and more. Entrances were designed with pointed arches. Inside, she knew, the ceiling was vaulted, majestically painted with angels gracing the heights.
While Trinity and then Saint Pauls Chapel had been designed for the use of the early British settlers, by the time Saint Augustines had been built, the city had grown. A colony had become a state in America, and that growing population had wanted to build something grand.
The church was literally in back of the pub, but they had to head out the front and come around to the parallel street entry. In doing so, they waded through a sea of media and onlookers to reach the interior of the church. Once inside, there still seemed to be a crowd.
Seems like a lot of people at a crime scene, Kieran murmured to Craig.
Up here, in what is the nightclub area now, Craig said, you have a lot of cops. Some of the nightclub workers. Some historic board people. But not down below. Even before Gilbert was found, only a few people were allowed down there.
Ah.
Yep, lucky girl, he said drily, looking ahead.
Kieran studied her surroundings quickly.
Shed been in the church a few times when it had still been a place of worship. While shed grown up in the Catholic Church, her parents had loved the beauty of the Episcopal house of worship so close behind their pub. It had been fantastic then, so beautifully built, and it had seemed they always had a great reverend, super music and lots of good things. It had been sad to hear of the place being sold.
But not much had really been changed, not as far as the facade went, nor even the inner structure.
The new owner had maintained the feel of great space. Where the altar had once been, there was now a long bar. To the left and the right, the smaller altar areas had now become little nooks with plush chairs and coffee tables. To the far right was a bandstand and DJs box. Heavy red velvet drapes kept the antique feeling while allowing for the little nooks to close off for privacy. The center of the roomwith the exception of a secondary barwas empty, spacious and airy.
There. Egan has gotten here himself, and hes with the owner, Craig said, taking her arm and walking over to a trio of men.
She knew Richard Egan, Craigs boss, head of the criminal investigation division at the FBIs New York headquarters. He looked the part; he was somewhere in his fifties, Kieran thought, with a headful of neatly cropped silver-white hair and a tall, lean, fit and extremely dignified physique. He nodded grimly as he saw them approach.
Ms. Finnegan, thank you for coming so quickly. We have some of our people coming up, but due to the high-profile situation we have going on here, I wanted the good doctors Fuller and Miro in on it all as quickly as possible. He paused for a moment to glance at Craig. Mike says you went to look for Shaw?
I did, sir. I found him, and Ms. Finnegan, of course.
Im grateful you were able to get here so quickly. Let me introduce you, Kieran, Egan said, and turned to the other two men with whom hed been standing. Henry Willoughby, Ms. Kieran Finnegan.
She quickly shook hands with the man. He was middle-aged, lean, with a trim ring of gray hair around his bald head. He was very solemnclearly concerned with the goings-on. Shed seen him on a local news show occasionally; he had a fine way of speaking, and his enthusiasm over a museum opening or city history was contagious.
Henrys president of a wonderful group called Preserve Our Past, Egan explained.
Yes, of course, Ive seen you on TV, she said, and offered a small smile.
He returned it grimly.
And Im Roger Gleason, Ms. Finnegan, owner of Le Club Vampyrethe business and the building. Obviously, were very distressed by whats happened here.
Certainly, she said. Gleason was nothing like the other men. She judged him to be in his early forties. He was tall, stylish and handsome, with a sweep of blond hair that fell across his forehead. His suit, she estimated, had to have cost a month of the average workingmans wages.
I hope you can help us, he said.
Im here for Drs. Fuller and Miro, Kieran said. Dr. Fuller will be here as soon as he can possibly get through traffic.
Yes, well, thank you, Ms. Finnegan, Gleason said. Traffiche could be hours.
He turned to Craig. Do you think they can help?
Definitely. Theres never a guarantee that profiling a perp will result in apprehending himno two human beings are really alike. But, yes, profiling has been key in solving many cases. Ill bring Ms. Finnegan down to the crypt.
Mike is still there? he asked Egan.
Egan nodded. Mike, the detective, the ME and the forensic team, he said.
Craig nodded and led her behind the main barthe old altar area. Kieran pictured the place as it had been as a church. Naturally, yes, the crypt would be beneath the altar.
They descended marble steps into the cool dankness of what had been a crypt and now housed spirits of a different kind. Rows and rows of wine and liquor bottles now lined the walls and were neatly arranged on the concrete floor.