Ryan quickly discovered that the mundane tasks of his job had become unbearable. Being stuck in a debriefing meeting about the deadly ‘conclusion’ of the Pauling case was torture. It was all he could do to keep what he knew to himself. It reminded him of watching a movie that he had seen before; he kept getting this intense urge to blurt out the ending, even though he knew he shouldn’t. Ryan had to admit, what he really wanted was to get back to his covert tasks. After all, it had been several days since he had last visited Hawkins; she was still holed up in her apartment, going over the old case files, looking for something new they could examine. His job remained to monitor the case and push for more tests in the name of ‘tying up loose ends’. Nothing had surfaced on that front, however. Every bit of evidence that was added to the pile just pointed back to Martin and his cousin. The review of evidence that they were doing now was more of a formality than anything else. Collins was a hair’s breadth away from closing the case for good, and then it would be over. Ryan had checked everything he could think of; there were no recoverable prints on the explosive device, no way to trace the cell phone that had armed the bomb. The only numbers called on Martin’s cell phone traced back to his cousin and his wife. It seems that whoever paid him was smart enough to avoid being directly connected to him. Even the records of the computers that were logged on to the network had been a complete bust; it turned out that many computers were actually left permanently logged in, including several in the security office and some in the teaching classrooms, because it was such a hassle to log in and out. So, nothing meaningful could be gleaned from that. Ryan idly pondered bringing up what a huge security risk that was, but that would just make people wonder why he cared. To make matters worse, his search of the evidence locker had come up empty too. Not a stitch of evidence had been overlooked in Parabellum’s last purge, and he was beginning to think that making any headway with the cold cases was impossible as well. He had hit so many dead ends in the last few days that he figured he should start wearing a helmet. Really, the only good thing that had happened during their investigation thus far was that nothing had happened. As Hawkins had hoped, there was no further word from Parabellum, not to her or to anyone else, and there had been no further suspicious deaths. Ryan was sure that this meant Parabellum had given her up as prey. If he’d still wanted her, he would never just sit back and wait for her to make the first move, he needed to be in charge, to control her actions; he wouldn’t be letting her set the pace like this. If Parabellum had felt she was still worthy of his attention, he would have tried to draw her out. In the previous Parabellum cases, the first week of the investigation was usually when he made his next kills, and he always acted fast, to prove to his opponent how powerless they were compared to him. The complete lack of action on his part likely meant that he had moved on to planning for their next target. Still, Ryan couldn’t help but wonder how much time they had actually bought. This was just the calm before a storm, after all, and Ryan could feel his apprehension building with each day that nothing happened. The clock was ticking, and if they didn’t find something then all they would have done was delay the inevitable.
When the meeting finally let out, he had learned nothing new, and he felt like he’d wasted the better part of a day. Walking out into the hallway, he turned his cell phone back on and discovered that he had missed a text message from Hawkins. He felt a little jolt of adrenaline shoot through him; she would only risk contacting him if something had happened. He opened the message:
Need 2 hear ur voice. Call me somewhere private ;)
Heading into the parking lot, he locked himself in his car, unwrapping a sandwich as he did. That was both for cover, and because he was starving. He bit into a pastrami on rye as he made the call.
“Hey, Hawkins. What is it?”
“You alone?”
“Yeah, we’re good,” he wiped a dab of mustard from the side of his mouth. “Nice text, by the way.”
“Yeah, I admit it, you were right, the secret lovers thing is actually a pretty decent cover story.”
“Told you so.”
“Do you want to gloat, or do you want to hear what I have for you?” Hawkins sounded excited about something.
“That is a tough choice,” he paused as if considering. “But alright, what have you got?”
“I think I know where we can get some new evidence. Well, technically old evidence, but you know what I mean.”
“Seriously? What did you find?”
“You were right about the old handwritten evidence records. I’ve been comparing them to the computer files, looking for discrepancies, and I finally found one. It seems that at some point during the second case they packaged up a couple of samples from the letters Parabellum to send to a handwriting expert for analysis, but it doesn’t seem that they have ever left the building and they weren’t entered into the computers.”
“You think the handwriting analysis can help us?” Ryan asked, disappointed and unsure of the significance of this ‘breakthrough’.
“I doubt it. I’m not sure it was ever even analyzed. Sometimes in a big case like this, certain evidence just falls by the wayside, gets forgotten. They were juggling a lot of lines of inquiry, so the fact that some were neglected is not surprising. What I think will help us is that one of the samples they submitted was an addressed envelope.”
“An envelope?” Ryan’s heart beat a little faster, he could feel the anticipation building again. “An envelope, as in possible DNA evidence?”
“Yup,” he could almost feel her grin through the phone. “I am hoping he missed this one because it wasn’t properly recorded in the log and it wasn’t stored with the rest of the evidence. It was, for all intents and purposes, already lost. So maybe it survived.”
“Where can I find it?” he asked eagerly.
“It should be in the supplemental evidence locker on the 5th floor, where they keep the evidence to be released to external examiners. If it’s there, get me a clipping of the flap, and maybe the stamp, just to be safe. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Consider it done. I’ll bring it as soon I can.”
“Be careful, Stone. No one can suspect what you are doing,” Hawkins disconnected.
Hawkins had waited all day for Stone to arrive. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, as it often does when you are awaiting important news. This was their best lead yet. So many frustrating days, where every possible lead had fallen through, hopefully this was where their luck changed. Almost every agent at the NIA had their DNA on file, to act as an elimination database for potential crime scene contamination. If they happened to get their DNA on a scene they were working, the elimination database allowed them to identify and discard the information without wasting time hunting phantom suspects. But it would serve just as well to identify their culprit, if they could get his DNA from that envelope. She worried that it wouldn’t be there, that it had been destroyed in the 19 years since the Walker case. But at least there was some hope this time. 19 years ago, the amount of DNA may have been considered too little to generate a successful profile. There was a chance that she could get something now that they couldn’t have back then, if she could just get her hands on that evidence. Finally, Hawkins heard a soft knock on the door. Stone came in slowly; his face was grim and her heart sank. Then, wordlessly, he handed her a tiny, sealed evidence bag. A shiver ran up her spine.
“It was really there?” she asked breathlessly.
“Exactly where you said it would be. Buried in the back of a locker, under some other abandoned evidence. Here’s what the envelope looked like,” Stone passed his phone to her, along with the evidence baggy. “We really need to clean out those lockers occasionally, eh?”
Hawkins ignored him, looking at the photograph of an old, hand addressed envelope. It was made out to Shawn Walker, at what she knew to be his home address.
“What was sent in this?” Stone asked.
“A letter, threatening his wife and unborn child,” Hawkins replied, gesturing to the photocopy of the letter on her desk.
“This guy is a real piece of work, isn’t he?” Stone grimaced.
“Yeah, he’s a prince,” Hawkins held up the small baggy containing a piece of a stamp, studying it as if with enough focus, she could see the DNA with the naked eye.
“There’s one thing I don’t get here,” Stone said.
“Only one?” Hawkins replied with a chuckle.
“Harsh,” he laughed, unperturbed. “How are you going to process this evidence without going through the NIA labs?”
“Well, we could send it out to be processed at a private lab, but that would take too long. Better for me to do it myself, at the lab.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t go back to the agency right now, you know that.”
“Surely no one is watching me by this point.”
“Even if that were true, security would likely have something to say about it.”
“I suppose. But I cannot stay in this apartment forever. I am going to lose my mind.”
“Just bear with it for a little bit longer. We can’t take the risk that someone is still keeping an eye on you.”
“Right. I know,” she ran a hand through her hair. “But this is too important to trust to just anyone. I would feel a lot better if I could handle it personally.”
“We might need to bring someone else in on this.”
“That would be too much of a risk,” Hawkins shook her head.
“Isn’t there anyone there that you trust? You worked there, you must know someone.”
Hawkins thought for a moment,
“There is one guy,” she chewed her lip. “But it is still too risky, the more people we tell, the more chance of this getting back to our man.”
“Well, we need some help, so we might need to take the risk. How close are you and this guy?”
“We worked together for a while; he’s a good guy. I call him up time to time to rush some lab results.”
“And he agrees to that?”
“He owes me a favor or two.”
“Perfect. Time to call them in,” Ryan insisted. “We don’t have to really tell him anything. You call him up, convince him to do a private job for you, off the books. Think you could manage?”
“That is a pretty big favor,” Hawkins mused. “But I suppose it is our best option, at the moment. I will make the call, see what I can do.”
Hawkins pulled out her phone,
“Carson? It’s Hawkins.”
“Hawkins?” the voice on the other end of the line sounded surprised. “Umm… how are you doing? You, uh, you feeling any better?”
“Oh, you know me, Carson. How sane was I to begin with?”
Ryan shot her a warning glance but remained silent.
“Right.”
“Look, I’ll be alright. I just need a little time, that’s all.”
“I’m glad to hear it. What can I do for you?”
“I need a favor, Carson. I need you to run a sample for me, off the books. There can’t be any record, no one can know.”
“That’s quite the favor, Hawkins. What is this about?”
“It’s personal.”
“You aren’t really supposed to use the lab for personal business, Hawkins. You know that.”
“Yeah, sure. Like you weren’t supposed to use me to run your kids’ DNA, to check their paternity?”
“You knew about that?” he stammered.
“I’m not stupid, Carson.”
“Well, paternity tests cost money and with the divorce I just…”
“Hey, I get it,” Hawkins interrupted. “I never said anything about it, did I?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“I just thought that, maybe, you could bend the rules for me, just this once. Look, you don’t even need to analyze it. All you have to do is send me the raw data.”
“Well,” Carson hesitated. “I guess I do owe you one. Alright, bring it down and I will handle it, off the books.”
“I will send someone with it today. You can send the data back with him when you are done. Get it for me by tomorrow, will you?”
“Tomorrow?” Carson grumbled. “Alright, but you are getting perilously close to owing me a favor for this one.”
“I know. Thanks, Carson.”
“I’ll let you know when I have something. Bye, Hawkins.”
Hawkins disconnected the call and put the cell back in her pocket.
“Well, now all you have to do is take it to him in the labs, then go pick up the data when he is done. I can do the analysis here.”
“You can’t enter it into the database from here though, can you?”
“No, I can’t. You’ll need to take it back and run it yourself. I can talk you through it.”
“Why add the extra steps, why not just let him do it? It would be faster.”
“Can’t risk it. If Carson runs it and it does hit to an agent, that is going to raise a lot of uncomfortable questions about my ‘personal’ favor.”
“Good point. Still, we shouldn’t waste any time, I’m not sure how much longer we have,” he didn’t need to explain what he meant by that, they were both painfully aware of the risks they were taking. “I’ll swing by tomorrow with the data.”
“I’m giddy with anticipation,” she said it sarcastically, but her heart really was beating wildly in her chest. Was it possible that this could be the break that they needed? Could it be this easy? If it was, she was going to feel a little bit dumb having gone through all this trouble to hide her intentions, because all of this she could have done more easily in the office. But it was better to be safe than sorry. As long as she could lay her hands on the serial killer who called himself Parabellum, any personal sacrifice was worth it. And at least this way, no one else had had to die. The only real concern was how long that would last.
“Just hurry up, because if I don’t get some new data to work with, I am going to get a bit stir-crazy.”
“I will be as quick as I can. Maybe try practicing a hobby, or something?”
With that, Ryan grabbed the evidence and headed for the door.