The Death Box(58)

The zip did me in. I set the penis on the table.

“Any idea as to meaning?” Morningstar said. “The oral placement?”

“In certain circles it means the penis has been places it shouldn’t. The only other time I’ve seen this was when a gang boss discovered his wife fooling around. He had lover-boy brought in and removed his equipment with a kitchen knife, jammed it in the guy’s mouth and put a bullet in his head. The, uh, surgery was not very neat.”

“Torture, you think in this case?” she asked. “Or an example?”

“An example would mean a victim was shown around as a warning to others.”

I recalled my personal encounter. The gangster had assembled friends of the victim at gunpoint, forcing them to behold his work. When the horrendous story hit the streets the boss became one of the most feared monsters around. It was a double-edged sword, because word eventually made its way to the cops. The boss was now doing life in Holman Prison and I hoped it was a short one.

“So someone might know?” Morningstar asked.

“Or have heard about it. That’s all it takes to create a street mythology. Mess with my woman, steal from me, this is what happens.”

Morningstar looked me in the eye. “The bottom victims give no indication of being trafficked. They appear to be separate incidents. Think it’ll change the situation with Homeland Security?”

I felt a rising excitement. “I’ll let you know,” I said, turning toward the exit. “You should probably expect a call from Roy.”

I kept my expectations in check as we headed to Miami and didn’t mention my hopes to Gershwin. I didn’t want to call Roy with the information, but convey the news in person. I also expected I’d have to do a sales job, perhaps with Morningstar’s help, but she seemed on my side, finding HomeSec’s investigation lackadaisical and almost inept thus far.

We parked and headed to Roy’s office, and found the door wide as usual. Roy wasn’t a closed-door kind of guy. “There’s my man,” Roy said as I knocked on his door frame. “I left some real-estate brochures in your office, though you’ve probably already found a—”

“You should call Morningstar, Roy,” I interrupted, running on hope and adrenalin. “She’s out at the site.”

“Is there a problem?”

“Not any more, maybe.”

Roy frowned and was talking to Morningstar in seconds. Or listening, mainly. After a minute he tapped the phone off and gave me a raised eyebrow. “I understand what you’re trying to do. But most of the column …”

“Yes indeed, Roy. But I can live with dual ownership.”

What I was proposing was not something Roy wanted in his day, but the big hands clapped together in a decision made. “I’ll have the interested parties pow-wow at the site. Rayles ain’t gonna be a happy pup, you know that, don’t you?”

Like a bouncing ball, we headed back to the site. Roy, Gershwin and I arrived first, the HomeSec twins a minute later. Morningstar handed them a copy and photos of her latest findings, then retreated to the fringe of the conversation.

“What does all this mean?” Rayles asked me, scanning the report. I saw him wince and figured he’d got to the amputated penis part. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“It’s in the files, Major. There were two bodies in the lower section of concrete, both hideously mutilated, one sexually. I can show you mutilations on the actual bodies if you wish. They’re over in the—”

“I’ll trust the photos.”

“The bottom line is that the assault was savage and meant to create extreme pain and fear, the kind of action I associate with a psychotic mind.”

“And this leads you to think—”

“That it’s our case, FCLE. At least the two bodies in the lower section of the column. You can have the upper section.” I smiled with all the charm and bonhomie I could muster. “We’ll investigate the case together, Major, like a team.”

The look on Rayles’s face told me my idea was not bringing joy to his day. He looked to Roy. “Your thoughts, Captain McDermott?”

“Detective Ryder has a point,” Roy deadpanned. “He’s looking forward to working with you, Major.”

Rayles was irritated, not, I figured, at sharing a case that would go nowhere from a national security point of view, but at being bested by a guy whose credentials lacked the gravitas of a command at Gitmo.

“It’s inefficient,” he said. “Meetings alone would be problematic.”

“I’ll come to your department every morning to review findings, Major. How’s the coffee at HomeSec?”