Sheila finally blew out through pursed lips. “Well, this all sounds crazy, and as I said before, under normal circumstances I’d call in a psychiatry consult for you two. But at this point I’m willing to explore just about anything.”
“Tell me,” Jesse said. “Does Beau recognize that he’s acting differently?”
“He says he doesn’t,” Cassy said. “But I find it hard to believe. He’s doing things he’s never done before.”
“I agree,” Pitt said. “A week ago he was adamantly against large dogs in the city. Suddenly he gets one.”
“Yeah, and without discussing it with me,” Cassy said. “And we live together. But why do you ask?”
“It would be an important point if the people who are affected are purposefully dissembling,” Sheila said. “We’ll have to be discreet. But let’s get us one of these black discs.”
“We can go back to the market,” Pitt said.
“I might be able to get one out of property booking,” Jesse said.
“Well, try both,” Sheila said. She took out a couple of business cards and wrote her home number on the backs. She gave one to Jesse and one to Pitt and Cassy. “Whoever gets one of these discs first, give me a call. But, as I said, let’s be discreet about this. It sounds to me that this is the type of thing that could cause a panic if there’s any truth to it.”
Just before they broke up, Pitt gave both Sheila and Jesse the number of his cousin’s apartment. He said that he and Cassy would be staying there. Cassy gave him a questioning look but didn’t contradict him.
“WHICH WAY DO YOU THINK THE STALL WAS THAT HAD THE discs?” Pitt asked. They had entered the outdoor market about the same time as the evening before. It was a large area, about the size of two city blocks, and with all the tiny stalls it was like a maze.
“I remember where we got the produce,” Cassy said. “Why don’t we go there first and follow our trail?”
“Good idea,” Pitt said.
They found the stand, where they’d bought tomatoes, with comparative ease.
“What did we do after the tomatoes?” Pitt asked.
“We got the fruit,” Cassy said. “It was in that direction.” She pointed over Pitt’s shoulder.
After they found the fruit stall they both remembered the route into the flea market section. A few minutes later they were standing in front of the booth they sought. Unfortunately it was empty.
“Excuse me,” Cassy called to the proprietor of the next stand. “Could you tell me where the man is that runs this empty stall?”
“He’s sick,” the man said. “I talked with him this morning. He’s got the flu like most of us have.”
“Thanks,” Cassy said. Then to Pitt she whispered: “What do we do now?”
“Hope that Lieutenant Kemper has better luck,” Pitt said.
JESSE HAD DRIVEN BACK TO POLICE HEADQUARTERS directly from the hospital, but he’d hesitated before going in. The news of Kinsella’s death had undoubtedly reached the station, and people were going to be upset. It hardly seemed to be the time to be nosing around in Kinsella’s cage, especially if the captain was still hanging around. After listening to Cassy and Pitt he’d been reminded of how weird the captain had been acting of late.
So Jesse had driven home. He lived a mile away from headquarters in a small house that was big enough for one person. He’d been living by himself since his wife died of breast cancer eight years previously. They’d had two children but both of them preferred the excitement of Detroit.
Jesse made himself a simple dinner. After a few hours passed he began to entertain the idea of going back to the station, but he knew it would raise a few eyebrows since it was not usual for him to be there unless something out of the ordinary was going on. While he was trying to think up some sort of an explanation, he wondered if Cassy and Pitt had already gotten one of the discs. If they had, there was no need for him to make the effort.
Looking through the scraps of paper in his pocket, he located the kid’s telephone number. He placed the call. Pitt answered.
“We bombed,” Pitt said. “The guy who had the discs is sick. We asked at other stalls and were told the market had become so flooded, they couldn’t sell them. So no one is carrying them anymore.”
“Damn,” Jesse said.
“You weren’t able to get one either?” Pitt asked.
“I haven’t tried yet,” Jesse admitted. Suddenly an idea occurred to him. “Hey, would there be any chance of you two coming with me to the station? Maybe it sounds funny but if I walk in there by myself, everybody’s going to be wondering what I’m doing. If I come in acting like I’m in the process of investigating something, there won’t be a problem.”
“It’s okay by me,” Pitt said. “Hang on, let me ask Cassy.”
Jesse toyed with the phone cord. Pitt came right back on the line. “She’s ready to do anything that might help,” Pitt said. “Where should we meet?”
“I’ll come and pick you up,” Jesse said. “But it will be after midnight. I want the evening gang to have gone home. It will be easier during the graveyard shift. There’s a lot less personnel involved.” The more Jesse thought about the idea the better it sounded.
IT WAS QUARTER PAST ONE WHEN JESSE PULLED INTO THE police headquarters’ parking lot and came to a stop in his reserved spot. He killed the engine.
“Okay, guys,” Jesse said. “Here’s how this is going to play. We’re going to walk in the front door. You’ll have to go through the metal detector. Then we’ll head directly for my desk. If anybody asks you what you’re doing, just say you are with me. Okay?”
“Should I be scared about going in there?” Cassy asked. She never thought she’d be concerned about going to police headquarters.
“Nah, not in the slightest,” Jesse assured her.
They climbed from the car and entered the station. While Pitt and Cassy were going through the metal detector they overheard the uniformed policeman at the front desk: “Yes, ma’am. We’ll be there as soon as we can. We understand that raccoons can be unsettling. Unfortunately we’re understaffed with the flu that’s going around…”
A few minutes later they were sitting around Jesse’s desk. The squad room was deserted. “This is better than I thought,” Jesse said. “There’s hardly anybody here.”
“This would be the time to rob the bank,” Pitt said.
“That’s not funny,” Cassy chastised.
“Okay, let’s get up and go back to property booking,” Jesse said. “Here’s my Cross pen. If need be we’ll pretend we’re booking it in as if it belonged to you.”
Pitt took the pen. All three got to their feet.
The property booking cage was locked up tight. Only the light from the hall shone through the wire mesh to illuminate the interior.
“All right, you guys wait here,” Jesse said. He used his key to open the door. A quick glance around the floor told him that someone had picked up the discs and the other objects that he’d knocked off the counter when he’d vaulted over to help Alfred. “Damn,” he voiced.
“Is there a problem?” Pitt asked.
“Somebody’s picked up in here,” Jesse said. “The discs must have been placed in envelopes, and there’s a whole dad-blasted stack of them in here.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Open them up,” Jesse said. “There’s no shortcut.”
Jesse started. It took longer than he expected. He had to twist the clasps, open the envelope, and look inside.
“Can we help?” Pitt offered.
“Yeah, why not,” Jesse said. “We’ll be here all night.”
The kids entered the cage and, following Jesse’s lead, began opening envelopes.
“They got to be here someplace,” Jesse said irritably.
They worked in silence. After about five minutes Jesse reached out and whispered, “Hold up!”
Slowly Jesse raised himself so he could see over the top of the counter. He’d heard what he thoug
ht were footsteps. What he saw made his heart skip a beat. He had to blink to make sure it wasn’t an apparition. It wasn’t. It was the captain and he was coming in their direction.
Jesse ducked back down. “Jesus,” he whispered. “The captain is coming. Move back under the counter and don’t move.”
As soon as the kids were in position, Jesse stood up. Since there was still time he exited the property booking cage. Walking quickly, he intercepted the captain in the hall.
“The duty officer said you were here, Kemper,” the captain said. “What the hell are you doing? It’s almost two o’clock in the morning.”
Jesse was tempted to turn the question around since it was a lot stranger for the captain to be there than it was for him. But Jesse held his tongue. Instead he said: “Just dealing with a problem involving a couple of kids.”
“In the property booking cage?” the captain asked, looking over Jesse’s shoulder.
“Yeah, I’m looking for a bit of evidence,” Jesse said. But then to change the subject he added: “Terrible tragedy about Kinsella.”
“Hardly,” the captain said. “He had that chronic illness with his blood. Listen, Kemper, how are you feeling?”
“Me?” Jesse questioned. He was nonplussed by the captain’s response concerning Kinsella.
“Of course you,” the captain said. “Who else am I talking to.”
“I’m fine,” Jesse said. “Thank the Lord.”
“Well, that’s strange,” the captain said. “Listen, stop by my office before you leave. I’ve got something for you.”
“Sure thing, Captain,” Jesse said.
The captain took another look over Jesse’s shoulder before heading back to his office. Jesse watched him leave, perplexed at what was going through his mind.
When the captain had disappeared from view, Jesse hustled back inside the property booking cage. “Let’s find one of those discs and get the hell out of here,” he said.
Cassy and Pitt emerged from their hiding place in the knee space below the counter. All three went back to opening envelopes.
“Ah ha!” Jesse said as he peered into a particularly heavy one. “Finally!” He reached in to pull it out.
“Don’t touch it,” Cassy cried out.
“I was going to be careful,” Jesse said.
“It happens quickly,” Pitt said.
“All right, so I won’t touch it,” Jesse said. “I’ll leave it in the envelope. Let me sign this custody chit and then let’s get out of here.”
A few minutes later they were back at Jesse’s desk in the nearly empty squad room. Jesse glanced into the captain’s office. The light was on, but the captain was nowhere to be seen.
“Let’s take a look at this thing,” Jesse said. He opened the clasp on the envelope and let the disc slide out onto his blotter.
“Looks innocent enough,” Jesse commented. As he’d done earlier, he used a pen to push it around. “There’s also no opening. How could it possibly sting someone?”
“Both times that I witnessed, the person had wrapped either their fingers or palm around the periphery,” Pitt said.
“But if there’s no opening it can’t happen,” Jesse said. “Maybe they’re all not the same. Maybe some sting, some don’t.” He got out his reading glasses, which he detested for vanity reasons, put them on, and then leaned over to get a closer, magnified view. “It looks like polished onyx, only not as shiny.” With the tip of his finger he touched the top of the dome.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Pitt warned.
“It feels cold,” Jesse said, ignoring Pitt. “It’s also very smooth.” Gingerly he moved the very tip of his finger down from the apex of the dome toward the periphery with the intention of feeling the little bumps that lined the edge. The sound of a cabinet banging shut over at the duty officer’s desk made him snatch his hand away.
“I guess I’m a little tense,” Jesse explained.
“For good reason,” Pitt said.
Ready to withdraw his hand at the slightest provocation, Jesse touched one of the little bumps. Nothing happened. Equally carefully he began to run the tip of his finger around the disc’s periphery. He got about a quarter of the way around when an extraordinary thing happened. A millimeter-wide slit formed in the seamless surface of the disc’s edge.
Jesse yanked his hand away in time to see a chrome-colored needle punch out through the slit a distance of several millimeters. From its tip sprang a single drop of yellowish fluid. In the next instant the needle withdrew and the slit vanished. The whole sequence lasted only a second.
Three pairs of startled eyes rose to regard each other.
“Did you see that?” Jesse asked. “Or am I crazy?”
“I saw it,” Cassy said. “And there’s proof. There’s a wet spot on the blotter.”
Nervously Jesse bent his head forward and, with his magnifiers, as he called his glasses, studied the area where the slit had formed. “There’s nothing there, not even a seam.”
“Wait a sec,” Pitt said. “Don’t get too close. That fluid must be infectious.”
As a hypochondriac Jesse didn’t need any more encouragement. He got out of his chair and backed several steps away. “What should we do?”
“We need some scissors and a container, preferably glass,” Pitt said. “Plus some chlorine bleach.”
“How about a coffee creamer jar?” Jesse suggested. “I don’t know about the bleach, but I’ll check the janitor’s closet. The scissors are in the top drawer.”
“A coffee creamer jar is fine,” Pitt said. “How about latex gloves?”
“We got those too,” Jesse said. “I’ll be right back.”
Jesse managed to find everything Pitt needed. With the scissors Pitt carefully cut out a circle of the blotter containing the wet dot and deposited it in the jar. The underside of the blotter didn’t appear wet, but still he disinfected the area of the desk with the bleach. The gloves and the scissors went into a plastic bag.
“I think we should call Dr. Miller,” Pitt said when he was finished.
“Now?” Jesse questioned. “It’s after two in the morning.”
“She’s going to want to know about this right away,” Pitt said. “It’s my guess she’ll want to start immediately trying to grow out whatever is in this sample.”
“Okay, you call,” Jesse said. “I’ve got to go in and see the captain. By the time I get back you can tell me if I’m taking you to the med center or home.”
Jesse’s mind was a jumble of disconnected thoughts as he headed for the captain’s office. So much crazy stuff had happened in so short a time, particularly the crack appearing like magic in the black disc, that he felt numb. He was also exhausted since it was way past his bedtime. Nothing seemed real. Even the fact that he was heading in to see the captain after two in the morning.
The captain’s office door was ajar. Jesse halted on the threshold. The captain was at his desk busily writing as if it were the middle of the day. Jesse had to admit to himself that the captain looked better than he had in a year despite the hour.
“Excuse me, Captain,” Jesse called out. “You wanted to see me?”
“Come in,” the captain said, waving Jesse over to the desk. He smiled. “Thanks for coming by. Tell me, how are you feeling now?”
“Pretty tired, sir,” Jesse said.
“Not sick?”
“No, thank goodness,” Jesse said.
“Get that problem taken care of with the two kids?”
“Still working on it,” Jesse said.
“Well, I wanted to reward you for your hard work,” the captain said. He opened the center drawer of his desk, reached in and pulled out one of the black discs!
Jesse’s eyes widened in shocked surprise.
“I want you to have this symbol of a new beginning,” the captain said. He had the disc in the palm of his hand, and he extended it toward Jesse.
Jesse felt a sense of panic. “Thank you, sir, but I can’t accept that.??
?
“Of course you can,” the captain said. “It doesn’t look like much, but it will change your life. Trust me.”
“Oh, I believe you, sir,” Jesse said. “I just don’t deserve it.”
“Nonsense,” the captain said. “Take it, my man.”
“No, thank you,” Jesse said. “I’m really tired. I got to get some sleep.”
“I’m ordering you to take it,” the captain said. A distinct edge had appeared in his voice.
“Yes, sir,” Jesse said. He reached forward with a quivering hand. In his mind’s eye he saw the glistening chrome needle. At the same time he remembered that to stimulate the mechanism, he’d touched the edge of the disc. He also noticed that the captain was not touching the edge but rather palming the disc in his flattened hand.
“Take it, my friend,” the captain urged.
Jesse flattened his own hand palm up and put it next to the captain’s. The captain looked him in the eye. Jesse returned the stare and noticed the captain’s pupils were widely dilated.
For a few moments it was a Mexican standoff. Finally the captain carefully insinuated his thumb beneath the disc and lifted it with his index finger on top of the dome. He was obviously avoiding the edge. Then he put it in Jesse’s palm.
“Thanks, Chief,” Jesse said. He avoided looking at the cursed thing and beat a hasty retreat.
“You’ll be thanking me,” the captain called out after him.
Jesse dashed out to his desk, terrified by the fear of being stung at any moment. But it didn’t happen, and he was able to slide the disc out of his hand without incident. It clacked up against its colleague with a sound like two ivory billiard balls colliding.
“What on earth…” Pitt remarked.
“Don’t ask!” Jesse said. “But I’ll tell you one thing. The captain ain’t on our side.”
HOLDING THE COFFEE CREAMER JAR UP TO THE LIGHT, Sheila looked beneath the label at the scrap of blotter contained inside. “This might be the break we needed,” she said. “But tell me again exactly what happened.”
Cassy, Pitt, and Jesse all began speaking at once.
“Whoa!” Sheila said. “One at a time.”
Cassy and Pitt deferred to Jesse. Jesse retold the episode with Cassy and Pitt adding bits of detail. When Jesse got to describing the part about the slit appearing in the disc, he opened his eyes widely and yanked back his hand in imitation of what he’d done at the time.