Bloodstorm Part 1

"Nope, I guess they're saving that until after the press conference."

"First I've heard about a press conference. They usually wait until the task force is set up and running before they announce it, why are they jumping the gun?"

"I guess you haven't seen today's Sun-Times." Mike threw the paper on John's desk.

Beast Slaying, the headline screamed. Charlie Johansen wrote the article and this caused John to groan inwardly. He quickly scanned the article and found, to his surprise, an accurate description of the circumstances in the first killing. The details were lurid, but they were accurately lurid. John knew that it would only get worse with news of a second death. He had not been to the second crime scene, some night shift detectives had fielded the call, but he hoped the second girl had suffered less than the first.

The girl had been found laying on the riverbank with most of her clothing laying scattered around her, as if torn from her body. The exception was the skirt, which was folded carefully and placed under the child's head.

The extremity of the wounds to the body, particularly the pubic area, was what had caused the young, uniformed officer to lose his breakfast all over John's shoes. She looked like she might have been eaten alive by some animal, but that certainly couldn't have happened. The damage to her vaginal area was so bad that the coroner had said he doubted that he would be able to tell whether the girl had even been raped, let alone recover any semen if she had been. The look on her face was certainly not one of peaceful surrender either.

All of these differences led John to a firm conclusion. This wasn't the same killer they were looking for in the other cases. This wasn't just a change in scenery; it was a change in the entire psychology of the crime. Where the other killer seemed to be very organized, this one was extremely disorganized.

Another difference was actually being able to recover some forensic evidence. There were skin scrapings under the girl's fingernails and a tuft of hair clenched in her right fist. This was something to go on and something they could use to eliminate suspects.

John asked Mike if he had heard anything about the condition of the other body.

"Same thing with the skirt, I know that. I've heard the mutilation was a little less severe and they might be able to get some semen from this body. My guess is that the first victim was truly his virgin killing and he got carried away with what he was doing. Now, he realizes the mistakes he made and is trying to correct them."

"You're assuming he's an organized killer then?"

"Yeah, I think so. I don't know why; that's just how this strikes me."

Chief O'Brien, who was a typical paddy Irish cop, suddenly interrupted their conversation.

"I want you two to be in my office for a briefing in ten minutes. You're heading up the task force." The man left as suddenly as he had arrived.

The two detectives looked at each other in stunned amazement.

"Well, will wonders never cease." Mike said.

"Wonderful," John said, standing up. "We get to be the shit stickers on this one. Goddamn, I didn't know my nose was that brown."

III

Holy Name Cathedral, Chicago, Illinois, August 6, 2002, 12:00 Noon

Kevin knelt in a pew in Holy Name Cathedral, praying his rosary. He had presented his letter of introduction to a monsignor, who had sniffed condescendingly when he had first asked to speak with Cardinal Richard Riordan. The man's attitude had changed visibly when he saw the Papal Seal on the letter and the cleric had bustled off with encouraging words, begging his pardon.

Kevin was having doubts about whether he was doing the right thing with his life. It seemed to be a waste of the best years of his life; fighting a menace that no one believed in on the best of days. On the worst of days, even Kevin had a hard time believing it. Yet, he was always assailed by these feelings of inadequacy and waste before beginning any major hunt, so he fought them the best way he could, with prayer.

His mind drifted back again to the summer of 1970. He didn't know why he had been thinking so often lately about the origin of his quest. He usually put it completely out of his mind. This time, however, he took this as a sign from God that there was something back there that should be considered again. So, he allowed his mind to drift back to that basement door.

When he had opened it that day, he had heard noises that sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place them. He descended the stairs quietly; not sure what he was afraid of, but afraid nonetheless.

The basement was outfitted as a second family room. He had used it to entertain Mary on a couple of occasions, when she wanted more privacy than usual. The sight that greeted him now shocked him into immobility.

He recognized the top of his mother's head, but that was about it, since he had never seen his mother naked. He had never seen his mother in the arms of another woman either, but the figure on top, with the largest breasts he had seen outside of some magazines, was definitely female.

They lay face to face, stomach to stomach. Kevin flushed with shame when he saw what his mother was doing with her pelvis, yet he still could not move.

The sight that finally did break his trance was when the strange woman lifted her face, looked directly into his eyes and smiled. The mouth that grinned at him seemed to be filled with the sharpest teeth he had ever seen and when that mouth sank its teeth into the neck of his mother and he heard his mother's scream of pleasure, Kevin fled up the stairs.

He ran until he reached the safety of his room and slammed the door. His mind buzzed with what he should do about what he had just witnessed. Should he call the police? Should he go back down there and confront them? He was panicking and he understood, finally, what hysteria felt like.

The knock on his door and his mother's voice calmed him slightly, although that allowed some anger to creep into his awareness. He threw the door open roughly, expecting a contrite and ashamed woman to greet him and apologize for her behavior.

Instead, she looked glowing with happiness, almost jumping with joy. She came into the room as if she were floating. At least she had bothered to stop and put on a robe.

"Kevin, I'm sorry if we shocked you. Maybe we should have gone to a motel. I was going to introduce you to Cecelia eventually anyway. She has wanted to meet you for a long time."

Kevin refused to believe what he was hearing. His mother sat on his bed and motioned him to join her.

"I don't want you to think that I didn't love your father. I've always enjoyed both men and women though, something your father didn't understand.

I'll always love him, but I've been lonely for a long time and Cecelia came along at a very vulnerable time. To be honest, it could very well have been you I gave into." She allowed her robe to fall open and she reached for him.

Kevin, not knowing what to say or do, allowed himself to be pulled into her embrace. The feel of his mother's flesh pressing to him felt different than any other time she had hugged him. He began to respond to her, as she licked at his ear.

Kevin never knew what caused him to look up at this point. Maybe it was to get a final reassurance from her; maybe it was the shudder that passed through her body. Kevin did look up and saw the same feral grin on his mother's face that he had seen on the woman downstairs.

He broke away from her and his survival instinct took over. He grabbed his baseball bat from the floor and tried to strike at her. She grabbed it and the force snapped it off halfway down the barrel. He thrust blindly out with the remainder of the bat and felt it pierce her. The howl of pain and rage deafened him and he opened his eyes to seethe light in his mother's eyes fade out. He sobbed once and then, perhaps realizing that the other woman might still be around, he ran from the house. He had never looked back.

The force of the memory shook him from it and he looked up blearily at his surrounding. A man who could only have been the cardinal was standing there.

"I didn't want to interrupt you in prayer. I believe you wanted to see me on urgent business?"