***
At a swank steak house downtown, Mayor Smith wondered what was keeping the bishop. It wasn’t usual for the bishop to be late. Mayor Smith dug out his cell and rang up the good bishop. After a customary ten rings he closed his phone. Then he had a sinking feeling something was not right with the bishop. He opened his phone again and called the captain. The captain was still at his office at the station so he had a cruiser go by the bishop’s house to check it out.
Moss was relaxing in his recliner reading the evening paper with the TV on mute. The only sound he could hear was the old clock on the wall tick ticking away. A grey cat was curled up on his lap purring away. The cat was the last attachment he had with his past away wife. Nowadays Moss felt much like a cat does with a, don’t give a shit attitude, about any and all things. It wasn’t that Moss was depressed, but he saw himself as treading water in life. Retirement made him shudder. What the hell I would do, he wondered, as his home phone rang scaring the cat who leaped out of his lap leaving claw marks in Moss’s thigh.
Moss tossed the paper to the floor and raised his recliner to the full sit up position as his captain told him about the latest homicide. He gave off a sigh and was told Stu would pick him in a few minutes.
He stood up and took stock of himself. The tie was gone, but the shirt was still fairly fresh looking. He brushed off the cat hair and went to the closet to find his shoes. Instead of his suit coat, he put on an old Navy Pea Coat that smelled of old mothballs. Moss had to suck it in a bit as he buttoned up his old Navy coat. Not bad, he thought. I’m almost the same size as I was forty years ago smiling to himself.
Off the top of the shelf he found his old blue navy stocking hat and pulled it on as well. He heard the horn honk and went out the front door feeling kind of giddy. Automatically he set the deadbolt and the silent alarm. In the short walk to Stu’s car, he almost turned and waved at his wife who, if still alive, would have been standing waving to him with a big smile and fearful eyes, hoping against all odds, he would return safe and sound to her.
Stu said, “My God Moss, you smell like old moth balls. Roll down your window please. Where the hell did you get that old coat?”
Moss wasn’t the least offended and replied, “This is my old Navy coat and hat. The weather is anything but comfortable to my old bones and wool is the best medicine for old farts to be wrapped up in on a cold night like this.”
Stu actually chuckled at Moss’s humor. “What do we have Moss? The dispatcher just told me to pick you up and that was all.”
“We have another homicide like the others. Only this time, as you so speculated, it’s a Catholic bishop. That’s all I know. I presume you have the address?”
They rode in silence the rest of the way. A slight drizzle was falling and Moss could see that it was mixed with ice as it hit the windshield. He felt nice and warm in his coat and with the heater on, he was starting to doze off when Stu parked his car with an over zealous push on the brakes to wake his partner up.
To Moss the scene looked like something out of the movies. There were lights and people everywhere moving around, including a bevy of news media, long necking their way for a better look.
Walking up a slight incline to the driveway, Moss first saw the mayor being interview by the news media with the captain standing at his side. Moss ducked under the police tape and followed Stu to the body lying next to a car. The first thing Moss said to a uniform was, “Put up a screen around the victim. The last thing we need is to see on the news is a castrated Catholic bishop with his penis in his mouth.”
In short order a tarp was found and placed so the news media could not view the body. Moss stepped back and let Stu take over. While scanning the crowd, he saw his captain motion to him to join the interview. Moss shook his head. The captain scowled at him and turned back to the cameras.
Stu came and said, “Same thing Moss. A knife in the back and then, mutilation after death, thank god. This one is going to have the proverbial shit hit the fan. Man that’s two in one day and we have nothing to go on. I should have retired when I had the chance. Now we’ll both be lucky to be back in uniform patrolling the streets of this city. Oh, my, here comes the captain now. I’m going back for another look and let you talk to him.
“Thanks Stu. I’ll remember this moment and remind you what a water ass you are someday, “Moss said with a grin.
“Moss,” the captain asked, “do we have anything to go on. I need something to feed the press.”
“Captain, tell the press this, we have a person of interest and we hope to have him in for questioning by tomorrow afternoon. After the autopsy we’ll have a statement to make,” said Moss with a straight face.
“God help us and I’ll pass this on to the mayor. You know Moss; both of our asses are on the line here.”
“I realize that captain, but in my case it really doesn’t matter anymore. I lost my life when my wife died. Hang me out to dry if you like. Now back to this case. I think our killer has moved on to greener pastures. If my hunch is correct, this is a hired assassin and we are in way over our heads. We need the FBI on this case. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll see what, if anything has been discovered.”
Miles, Moss noticed was waving his arms frantically trying to get his attention. The police had strict orders not to let any press in and that included Miles Milner. Moss gave him a five minute sign and Miles relaxed.
The medical examiner had done her job and told Moss nothing different from the others. He thanked her and slowly walked down the driveway to talk to Miles.
“Is it true the victim is Bishop Costoni,” asked Miles when he deemed it prudent to ask Moss a question out of ear shot.
“Yes, it’s true. Same MO. Have you anything to add Miles? You were waving at me like a drowned man at sea so I thought maybe your hotshot newbie reporter discovered something?”
“As a matter of fact he did. He researched a popular mercenary rag and found out a few months ago an ad for a special kind of person who used stealth instead of plastic explosives. So far he has traced the source to Europe and that’s all for the moment.”
Moss digested the information and nodded thanks to Miles. Stu walked up and both detectives went to Stu’s car. There really wasn’t anything for the two detectives to do but go home and get some much needed rest.
***
Steve always traveled light, but not so light someone might think he was a drifter. He carried a zip up bag that had enough clothes and needed items for a few days if necessary. He used Amtrak rather than air travel. No metal detectors were the main reason. Also he could get privacy in a single cabin and not be bothered. Now as he boarded an all nighter to North Carolina he gave himself a pat on the back for a good job well done.
He went back over the last e-mail from the client. His next target was a high profile evangelist who rocked em on TV. After this one he could retire if he watched his spending habits. Steve remembered the days of being an auto worker. He’d made good money and had a family or sorts. After he lost his job, thanks to Lehman, his wife left him and then finally the dog ran way too.
He smiled thinking about the time spent in Iraq as a sniper and hit man. The training the army gave him was second to none. Then one day, while surfing the internet, he came across an advertisement for a person of specific abilities. One thing led to another and he was hired. The rest is history, so to speak, he thought. Now with four hits under his belt he was beginning to think he was invincible.
Chapter IV
Moss woke up with a headache and a stiff neck He blamed it on the cold dank weather of being tributary to the Great Lakes region. He’d never been to Arizona, but if he had to retire, then he would go check it out. He could never take staying in this house knowing that life outside the door was passing him by like clouds in a storm. Moss glanced at the bedside clock thankful it had see-in-the-dark green numbers and hands. He always felt lucky to get four to six hours of good sleep these days. His wife’s cat lay nex
t to his leg sleeping his life away.
Moss got up and shuffled to the bathroom. In the hall he turned on the oil heat and after his shower, the small house would be nice and toasty. He let the hot water run until it turned cold. He turned the water off and soaped up, then in a rush, turned the water back on rinsing off first with warm then cold water. It was his way of waking up and loosing his stiff joints.
Getting dressed he put his long handles on knowing it was going to be a cold day. First he’d have to hang out at the coroner’s workshop and that place was always chilly. Then they would investigate the bishop’s house for any clues.
In his kitchen the damn cat sat at his bowl meowing for food. Moss did his job and fed the cat from a sack of dry food under the sink. He’d turned on the tea pot for hot water; popped some toast in the toaster, opened the fridge to see if any eggs were still there and then shut the door after finding basically an empty egg carton.
Well, he thought, toast and instant coffee will have to do until I can swing by and wolf down some breakfast at the Golden Arches.
Moss loved his old Range Rover. It had served him well over the years. In later years his wife complained it was hard to get into so he had some special steps added on both sides for ease of entry. As he made his way through the line of cars to retrieve his Egg McMuffin and coffee he stared at the young girl who took his money and gave him his food and drink. She barely looked old enough to meet the age requirements, and then he saw the marks of acne and wished her well. She gave him a confused look and he drove to the back of the parking lot to eat his breakfast and watch the cars. It kept his mind sharp guessing what each occupant did for work or whatever came to his mind.
His cell went off as he finished up his sausage and cheese muffin. His caller ID said it was the captain calling. He told the captain good morning and was instructed to meet at the bishop’s house. Stu called next and asked to be picked up at the station house.
On the way to the bishop’s house, Stu told him that he was going to retire as soon as the paper work was processed. Moss said, “Yes, Stu, it’s about time for me to do the same thing, but I hate to quit in the middle of a case.”
“I agree, but my wife is adamant that I retire. I know Moss if your wife was alive, she would be putting the same pressure on you as my wife is to me.”
“I can’t argue that Stu. Any idea where you will, go or just stay put?”
“Florida is where we are going. My oldest son has a small orange farm and needs some help. A caretaker’s cottage is next door so we will live there.”
As they pulled up on the street and parked far enough away from the police tape, both slowly made it to the front door of the bishop’s house. Inside the house was a flurry of activity. Moss was a little taken aback by the amount of people running around. The captain saw him and motioned him over while talking to a buzz cut, black suited FBI agent. Moss always wondered why they gave away who they were working for. The black clothes along with the close cropped hair were dead giveaways to the bad guys.
The captain introduced him to the ‘Special Agent’ in charge. Moss noted the heavy on the ‘special’ part of the name. However, Moss wouldn’t hold that against him. Secretly he was glad they were on board and none of this turf fighting stuff for him. The FBI had their work cut out for them with this one.
Special Agent Tim Solder immediately cast his eyes up and down Moss. Moss caught the look that said, ‘no wonder they called us in’ insinuation that was obvious to both he and the captain. Moss let it go and with a smile said, “Glad you’re on board Agent Tim. I’m sure the captain already offered whatever help we can lend; just say the word and we will do our best.”
“Well right now we need a profiler on this case and then we can concentrate on that information. Meanwhile, I’d like to sit down and here what you have to say Detective Moss.”
Moss was a little shocked to hear that this guy wanted his input. Maybe, just maybe he’d misjudged this Tim guy. He said, “I’m available anytime and when you and the captain are finished let’s find the kitchen and make a cup of coffee. After that we can go to the autopsy for a first hand look at the killer’s handiwork.”
Without disturbing too much, Moss found some coffee mugs and instant coffee. He microwave some hot water and by the time he had two hot cups ready, Agent Tim came in and sat down rather heavily at the small kitchen table.
Milo anticipated his first question by stating, “I think Agent Tim this had the earmarks of a conspiracy rather that one man’s vendetta against pedophiles. It’s too well planned to be a random affair. Somewhere there’s a group who have decided its pay back time on clergymen who prey on children. Where to look is anyone’s guess and I’ve no idea about that. What I do know is even if we take this guy down, who’s to say another one will not pop up right behind him.”
“What you are saying, detective Moss, is we have a bigger problem than a serial killer on our hands.”
“I could be wrong, you know. I’m an old timer now, but not without some experience.”
“Yes, your reputation precedes you Moss. I’ve read your record and its impressive regards homicide to conviction record. I’d like you to sit at a desk and use your brain rather than doing the leg work. We’ve lots of folks to do the leg work.”
“Sounds good to me. If it’s clear with the captain I’ll return to the station house and wait for your arrival for the autopsy.”
On the way back to the station, Moss filled Stu in on what had transpired. Stu breathed a sigh of relief and said, “This’ll be relief to all of us. I’ve some vacation time coming and will by the end of the shift be relaxing at home listening to my wife complain about this and that. I’ll fool her though; my son said I needed to learn Spanish. He sent some CD’s and other things; like head phones to listen and repeat kind of thing. I’m sure Moss you get my drift?”
Sitting behind his old grey metal desk, Moss felt like he was a hundred years old. He watched Stu fill out his retirement forms and even envied him, just a little. Milo looked around and saw nothing but young faces and very few old timers anymore. Glancing down he saw the morning edition displaying a front page picture of the bishop’s house and car in driveway. The improvised screen blocked any view of the body.
The article was written by Miles and mentioned that the FBI was getting involved. I wonder how he knew that, Moss thought. While he read, Miles walked in and sat down at the side of Moss’s desk. He was rather out of breath as the homicide room was on the second floor with no elevator. Moss said, “Miles, you are pitifuly out of shape. Even I don’t huff and puff so much coming up one flight of stairs. Now, what have you got that you couldn’t wait to tell me?”
“My boy researcher has come up with something rather interesting. It seems some activists were very vocal about a year ago considering religious leaders as pedophiles. Then suddenly, all was quiet; like they disbanded or were silenced somehow. My boy has a friend in Boston who claims an underground group of high profile businessmen have declared war on pedophiles who are leaders of a church. Now, remember Moss, these are only rumors and not to be taken as fact, but it’s worth looking into don’t you think?”
Moss had blocked out all sounds of the squad room and was deep in thought. All rumors or fairy tales have a certain truth about part of the story, so why not this one. The ‘where’ was Boston, but the ‘who’ was a bigger question. Moss shuddered and was glad he would not be part of the investigation into a radical group of high powered businessmen hiring hit men to eliminate religious pedophiles that hid behind their uniform to prey on innocent victims.
“If that is the case Miles, we are in over our grey heads. You’re right about the FBI being involved and I’ve been relegated to warm the bench while they go about solving this murder spree.”
“You’re off the case then,” Miles asked.
“No not off, but set aside is closer to the truth. I brought up the conspiracy theory and I think the FBI had already come to that conclusi
on. Miles, if we look at it from start to the bishop, the victims are progressively higher profile that the previous one. That means, if my theory is correct, we are in for an earth shaker very soon.”
“God help us and the pun is intended. Well, Moss I have to run now. Let’s meet up for dinner if you have time. I should have some tid bits for you by then. Hang in there old friend. Neither of us has been put to pasture yet, but it sure seems like the fields are just around the corner.”
***
Amtrak jolted to stop making sure everyone was woken up. Steve rubbed his eyes and looked out the window to a station that was packed with commuters on a Monday morning. He was where he was supposed to be. With a pocket full of money, he decided to upgrade his accommodations from one star to three or higher.
Steve caught a taxi and told the driver to take him somewhere near the evangelist Hugh Rivers did his shows for TV. Steve tried to make it sound like he was a fan and desired an autograph. The taxi man said he knew just the hotel not a stones throw away from where the famous Hugh Rivers spoke God’s word to the masses. In no time Steve learned the taping schedule and when it would be a good time to get an autograph.
Steve, settled into his upgraded hotel, he decided to splurge and order room service for breakfast. He was beginning to like this attention he was getting. However, he shouldn’t have been surprised to know if you have money, people fall all over you hoping to catch a few crumbs. When he took a shower and looked into the mirror, he really didn’t recognize the face that stared back at him. Then he realized he was not the same guy he once was. In his dark mind he had evolved into something that other people envied.
Steve found himself walking around a giant office building that housed the famous Hugh Rivers Empire. He decided he needed some time to set up the hit and one way was to see what his schedule was like for the week. Steve thought correctly that this guy would travel by limo and he found the limo parked in front of the building with a chauffer slowly wiping the dust off a spotless car.