Ravenwood's eyebrows lifted. "Charles Manson? Charlie Manson put this tattoo on your hand?"

Cromwell nodded. "Yeah. Pretty cool, huh? Why are you so interested? What's it to you?"

Ravenwood glanced over at Kane and then back to Cromwell. "Nothing. It's just... unusual, that's all. Thanks for your time, Mr. Cromwell. And, like I said, we'd appreciate a call if you happen to hear anything."

Kane put the car in gear and was only too happy to be pulling away from Cromwell's little freak show.

Ravenwood buckled herself into the pa.s.senger's seat with her eyes on the side mirror as the Temple of Baphomet receded into the distance. "Well, that was interesting," she said. "What do you think?"

"I think the incense in that place was thick enough to gag a guru."

"Besides that."

"I'm thinking Cowl may have just slipped to number two on our short list of primary suspects. That tattoo"

"I'm thinking the same thing. But you can't arrest someone based on a tattoo."

"Yeah, not when that's the only solid thing we have to go on. d.a.m.n shame. But we definitely need to keep an eye on this guy." He checked the calendar on his watch. "Two days from now another preacher is due to meet St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. I say we put twenty-four-hour eyeb.a.l.l.s on both Cromwell and Cowl that day."

"I agree. But even if one of them is our man, I don't know how much good it will do."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember whoever is doing this is projecting a double of himself. He's not really physically present at the scene. Unless we have somebody actually inside Cowl's house and Cromwell's house and monitoring their activities at the moment the murder is going down, we'd have no way of knowing which one of them is doing it. And that's a.s.suming either one of them is doing it at all."

Kane scowled. "What about placing surveillance cameras in their homes?"

"Nice idea. But based on the evidence we have so far, which is next to nothing, you know we'd never get a warrant for that. Even if we did, what room would you put a camera in? Every room in the house?"

Kane knew she was right. He was fishing out of frustration but he had no bait on the end of his line. "Why are we even talking about it? It's not gonna happen. We'll have to come up with something else."

Ravenwood sank back into the seat. "Obviously. But what?"

"I thought this kind of case was your specialty."

"Yeah, well, right now I feel more like Crowley on his death bed."

"What the h.e.l.l does that mean?"

"Just before he died, his final words were 'I am perplexed'."

The comment brought an amused chuckle from Kane, followed by at least two miles of silence. If she thinks she's perplexed, she ought to be in my shoes. That thought triggered a mental picture of his daughter with her feet on top of his feet as he danced her around the living room to one of his favorite old songs, 'Dancing On Daddy's Shoes'.

Ravenwood caught the grin on his face. "A penny," she said.

"What? Oh. Just thinking about my daughter."

"Sarah, right?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

Ravenwood gave him a look that said 'Are you kidding? Did you forget who you're talking to?'

He shook his head. "And I suppose you know about"

"The accident?"

"Of course you do."

"Do you get to see her often?"

"What, you mean you don't know?"

"Sorry. I don't mean to pry. Just thought you might like to talk about it."

Any other time he'd probably tell Ravenwood to mind her own business. But lately, with his days being shrouded by black magick and characters that seemed to enjoy dwelling in the dark, Sarah was the one bright spot in his life. He wasn't at all comfortable with any part of this bizarre case but oddly enoughas he just at that moment realizedhe was actually beginning to feel comfortable with Ravenwood. That made no sense to him, whatsoever. He shook his head. I am perplexed. "I see her as often as possible," he said. "Which hasn't been all that much lately."

"The job?"

"That, and she's off at camp right now."

"Camp?"

"Music camp. Flute. She's really good. Don't know where she gets it. Her mother, I guess. I can't carry a tune in a bucket."

Ravenwood smiled. "Me neither." Wow. The Teddy bear has returned.

Kane glanced over at her. He couldn't deny she was physically attractive as all h.e.l.l. The devil on one shoulder was shouting in his ear, 'This is not good'. The angel on his other shoulder was whispering, 'Yeah, but it ain't bad'. "What about you?" he asked. "Got any kids?"

"Me? No. Haven't found the right guy."

"Hmmyou like kids?"

"Sure. Who doesn't like kids? I always thought I'd be a great mom. I mean, you know. If that ever happened."

"You wanna meet Sarah sometime?" He couldn't believe those words had tumbled out of his mouth. s.h.i.t. What the h.e.l.l did I just say?

The question threw Ravenwood back against the seat as if someone had ignited a rocket thruster and they instantly jumped from a comfortable 35 miles per hour to a Star-Trek warp speed and the Teddy bear was piloting the ship.

She quickly regained her bearing and pretended to brush a speck of lint off her pant leg. "Sure," she said, casually turning to gaze out her side window. "Why not?" She was now more perplexed than ever.

CHAPTER 29.

The Next Morning...

Wheeler popped in to Kane's office and flopped a copy of the Seattle Eye on the desk. "Seen this?"

"What is it?"

"Check the headline."

Kane scanned the heavy black print: SEATTLE'S CLERGY DROPPING LIKE FLIES The Seattle Eyepopularly known simply as The Eyewas the city's alternative weekly news tabloid. It started out ten years ago as a relatively insignificant paper that focused on entertainment and offbeat news. Gradually, it grew into a going concern and acquired a reputation for occasionally scooping Seattle's major establishment newspaper, the Seattle Sound Times. The article causing the vein on the side of Kane's neck to swell like a balloon was written by Mike "Bloodhound" Morran, a defector from the Seattle Sound Times and now the star reporter for The Eye.

The deaths of the preachers, up to this point, had been given little attention by any of the local news media. That was due in large part to Kane's insistence that the Department keep a tight lid on the details of the case. But it was that hermetically sealed lid that aroused the curiosity of Bloodhound Morran.

Kane exploded before he even got through the first paragraph. He slammed the top of his desk with a closed fist. Two pencils and a half empty box of paperclips bounced onto the floor. His coffee sloshed over the lip of the cup, soaking The Eye and its unwelcomed headline. He glared at Wheeler. "s.h.i.t! How the h.e.l.l did this happen?"

Wheeler froze. "Um... I..."

"Somebody around here leaked and I want to know who it was."

"It wasn't me, Lieutenant. Swear to G.o.d. Besides, if you read the rest of the article, you'll see he doesn't really know much of anything. It's just a lot of questions and speculation."

Kane was still steaming. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. But there is one thing. He's noticed the nine-day pattern."

Kane gripped his own forehead and began giving his temples a slow ma.s.sage. It was only 10 a.m. and he was already getting the headache that was usually reserved for an afternoon slot on a really bad day. "All right. Get out. Let me read the rest of the d.a.m.ned thing."

Kane discovered Wheeler was right. Morran didn't really know much about the details of the case. But the star reporter's bloodhound instincts were on high alert. His article mentioned the 9-day intervals at least three times and it focused on the fact that the official cause of death in each case was heart attack. He called it 'A set of coincidences so unlikely that it seems to defy the laws of chance'.

Kane finished reading the article and called Ravenwood to break the news. "Wait'll you hear this," he said when she picked up the call.

"Morran?"

Kane winced. How foolish could he have been to think he was finally going to be one step ahead of her. "So you read The Eye."

"Of course. I have a subscription."

Kane rolled his eyes. "Of course you do. Well, you know what's going to happen now, don't you? The mainstream press is going to jump all over this. It's gonna turn into a G.o.dd.a.m.n circus."

"It's already started."

"What?"

"Remember Gail Green?"

"Who?"

"You recall the case of that twelve-year-old girl who went missing last year and was finally found dead, six weeks later, in the trunk of a an abandoned car down by the waterfront?"

"Yeah..."

Ravenwood paused, waiting for Kane's memory to kick up a few details of the case.

"Oh, Christ," he groaned. "Gail Green was that old woman who claimed to be a psychic channeler or something. And apparently"

"She accurately pin-pointed the location where the body was finally found."

"Yeah, I remember. Psychic, my a.s.s. It was a G.o.dd.a.m.n lucky guess on her part. So, what about her?"

"Ever hear of the Rick and d.i.c.k show on Talk-Radio, KTOK, in the morning?"

"Yeah, vaguely. Why?"

"They were talking about Morran's article this morning and Gail Green called in to offer her two cents on the subject."

"Oh, G.o.d. What'd she say?"

"She says her spirit guide informed her that the preachers had been murdered by an inter-dimensional disciple of Satan and that it's a sign of the coming Apocalypse. The end is near. The whole nine yards. No number pun intended."

Kane's head dropped. This wasn't going to be just a normal media circus. This was going to have the special added attraction of a freak show. Wonderful. "How should we handle this? Reporters are going to be all over us now, you know. Especially with tomorrow being the ninth day." He was about to continue when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Hang on a minute." He put Ravenwood on hold.

Tom Bower peeked his head in. "Sorry, Lieutenant. Some guy named Morran here to see you. Says he's a reporter."

"What? s.h.i.t." The surprise caused his headache to ratchet up another notch. "Tell him I'm not in. No. Wait. Tell him... Oh, Christ. Just stall him off for a minute." He got back to Ravenwood and told her what just happened. "How do you think I should handle this? I could just tell him to blow off."

"Wow, Morran's really got his teeth into this one, doesn't he? Okay, look. I think you should see him. The more we try to cover up, the more suspicious he's going to get. Before you know it, the whole story's going to explode into a firestorm of conspiracy theories. In fact it's already started. While you had me on hold I logged onto Morran's blog. The comments are streaming in. Between Morran's article and Gail Green's appearance on the Rick and d.i.c.k show, the doomsayers and conspiracy theorists are having a field day."

"Christ on a crutch. I knew it. I knew it would happen. I suppose we were lucky to have held it off as long as we did. So what now?"

"I'm thinking we should roll with it. It might work to our advantage to have a few more facts of the case floating around out there. Who knows? Maybe someone out there knows something, heard something that we've missed. So I say give the Bloodhound a few nuggets to chew on. We'll see what happens. Can't hurt."

"A few nuggets? Like what? There aren't but a handful of nuggets in our feedbag as it is."

"Yeah, I know. The biggest nugget is the doppelganger. We sure as h.e.l.l don't want to let that one out of the bag. Okay, look. Don't tell him we have any suspects yet but do tell him about the coins, the Batman medallions. Tell him we don't know their significance yet but we think, with the public's help, maybe that piece of information will trigger someone's memory about something they might have heard or something they might have seen. You know. Anything that could help our investigation. What do you think?"

Kane sighed. She could be right. Again. The way things were shaping up there was nothing to lose and maybe something to gain. "All right. I'll see the flea-bitten son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h and shove a nugget into his mouth. Hope he chokes on it. Call you later."

CHAPTER 30.

The Next Day...