Savich started to tell him there was no way John Doe had been shooting himself up, but decided to drop it. “No, only a trace of an antipsychotic drug left in his system.”
Mayer turned at a voice he recognized outside the room. He listened, then rounded on Savich. “What is Officer Sharpe doing up here? You did that, didn’t you? Arranged for a police guard for this guy?”
“Actually, Ben Raven arranged it.”
“But you called Raven, didn’t you? You had no right to stick your freaking Fed nose into my business. Why are you even here, really? Playing the glory hound again?”
Savich pictured Mayer in the fetal position on the floor, hugging his gut. He said easily, “I wondered why you haven’t interviewed me, asked me if I’d heard anything John Doe said that might help identify him.”
“If you knew anything, you’d have shouted it to the cameras. Besides, who gives a crap what a crazy man rants? He was obviously off his meds—I heard him screaming about the gods this and the gods that, but none of it made any sense.” He paused a moment, thrust out his chin. “Everyone could see that. When I speak to Ms. Moody, I’m sure she’ll agree.”
“He certainly appeared distraught, and yes, confused, but don’t you want to know why he seems to have broken out of a mental institution to rescue a pregnant woman from someone? And no one has claimed him?”
“Nah, he wasn’t there to save anyone. He’s crazy. Look, I’ve got dead bodies piling up, Savich. Dead bodies with names, with families who need justice. This guy? When the folk from his funny farm arrive, they’ll tell us everything we want to know. They’ll have a thick file on him, count on it.” He shot Savich a look of cold dislike. “I can see you’re not going to give up on this; why, I don’t know. It’s not like you Feds don’t have enough of your own crap to deal with.” He frowned, then shrugged. “Okay, I did speak to Ms. Moody, but she said she’d never seen him before, that he wanted to take her away but she couldn’t figure out why because he was too confused. When the police showed up, he got frantic, made no sense at all. So I think he picked a random house to invade. That’s it. Nothing more, zip, nada. And if he ever wakes up, he’ll get carted back to where he came from, or off to prison in shackles, and this will all be over.”
“Suppose it wasn’t a mental institution. That tag around his wrist could be from somewhere else. Someplace as far off the grid as he is.”
“Oh, come on, get real. Now you’re talking conspiracies? You’re making something out of the rantings of a crazy guy. Why are you really here, Savich?”
“Probably the same reason as you. I want to know who he is, what he is. I want to know what happened to him.”
Mayer looked down at the still face. For an unguarded moment his defensive anger fell away. He said in a low voice, “He’s so bloody young. What, maybe twenty-two, twenty-five? So yeah, I want to know what happened to him, why he fell off the rails.” So Mayer was more concerned about this young man than he’d let on, but he wasn’t about to show that to Savich. Didn’t he realize he already had? Mayer shook his head. “You said you want to know what he is. What do you mean by that?”
“To be honest, Detective, I don’t know what I meant.”
“Well, it really isn’t any of your business anyway, is it? And you’re wasting taxpayer money, Metro money, on a guard without a reason.”
“I heard him say some very odd things. I think there’s more going on here than his delusions. I’m worried the people he escaped from—” He paused, shook his head. “A couple of days. I’d like to keep him safe for a couple of days.”
Savich looked down at the plastic wrist bracelet, then back over at Mayer. “Detective, what do you think of when you see or hear the word enigma?”
Mayer scowled at him, shrugged again. “What’s this with word games, Savich? Everybody knows enigma was the code the Germans used back in World War Two. There was a movie about the Brit guy who broke it.”
“Look at his ID band, Detective.”
“What? You think this E stands for enigma?”
“Possibly. An enigma can also be a person or a thing that’s mysterious, puzzling, or difficult to understand,” Savich said slowly. “John Doe called himself that—an enigma.”
That gave Mayer pause, but only for a moment. “So what? Who cares? You think he’s a member of some kind of cryptology club? Some secret group? Get real, Savich. We’ll probably find out what he meant when he said that and laugh.” He drew himself up and leaned toward Savich. “In the meantime, I want you to stay away from him. He’s none of your concern.” Mayer grunted, turned on his heel, and walked out of the room.
A police officer stuck his head in the room after he left. “Agent Savich? I’m Officer Tommy Sharpe. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He looked over his shoulder. “Detective Mayer isn’t happy.” Tommy didn’t sound particularly concerned.
Savich shook his hand. “Officer Sharpe.”
“Call me Tommy. Everybody does, even the dudes I arrest.” He paused, then added, “I wish they wouldn’t.” Sharpe wasn’t exactly green, but close, maybe a couple of years out of police academy. He looked strong as a young bull, and had a kid’s face the passing years would never change.
“All right, Tommy.”
Sharpe walked into the room and stood beside the bed. “I hear he’s the guy you took down yesterday in Georgetown. Doesn’t look like he’s going to be a lot of trouble to me. Can you tell me what to expect? Why you think he needs a guard?”
Savich said, “I don’t have anything specific in mind, but I do know he was scared some people would be coming after him.”
“And you don’t think that was because he’s crazy?”
Savich smiled. “I don’t know if crazy’s the right word for him, but we’ll see. I’d rather listen to my gut than be sorry if this thing doesn’t end well. I’d appreciate your sticking close to him, not letting anyone near him you haven’t vetted first.”
Sharpe nodded. “He’s very young.”
“Yes, he is. About your age.”
Sharpe gave him a big grin. “Nah, I’ve got at least two years on him.”
Savich gave Officer Tommy Sharpe his cell number and took the elevator to the maternity floor. He showed his creds at the entrance to the maternity-unit security guard with the name Ray Hunter on his name tag. Ray’s head was topped with a crop of bright red hair, and he looked bored. A red eyebrow went up when Savich showed him his creds. “Any trouble here, Agent Savich?”
“No, I’m here to see a new mother, Kara Moody.” Savich looked at his name tag again. “Why, Ray? Have you had any problems on the floor?”
“Not since last week when an ex-husband tried to take his kid out of the unit by himself without checking with anybody. The infant security bands were still on the baby. Obviously the guy didn’t know the procedures to follow. The alarm went off and everything shut down as it was supposed to, the elevators, stairwells. It was a mess until we got him talked down and the baby back safe in his mother’s room.” He shook his head. “It’s sad we have to be here to guard a maternity ward against people out to steal babies, but it’s a strange world.”
Savich gave Ray a salute and set off toward the nurses’ station to ask for Kara Moody’s room number. He heard loud voices down the hall and someone was screaming.
It was Kara.
10
LONDON-CORBIN MAGEE FIELD
LONDON, KENTUCKY
MONDAY, LATE AFTERNOON
Cam stepped forward, shook the chief’s big hand. “Chief Harbinger? I’m Agent Cam Wittier. This is Agent Jack Cabot.”
They handed him their creds, watched him nod as he looked them over and handed them back. “Good to put faces to names. My name’s Quinn, but everybody calls me Chief. Just Chief. You okay with that?”