Dangerous by Default

34. The interrogation (cont'd)

"Know who this is?" Janus asked. The grotesque photo she showed him was difficult to make sense of. The pooling blood on the tile bathroom floor was unmistakable, as was the outline of a man's body lying in it. What he couldn't understand was the tangled pinkish cords of viscera that stretched outwards from the neck. The human form seemed so alien. Above the eviscerated neck, a sunken face stared back at him grimly. He did not recognize the man, but death can warp a face in strange ways.

"Please don't tell me. H?"

"No, someone named Jeff."

Janus swiped on her phone to another photo.

"And her?" This time, an elderly woman was lying slumped in her chair. Her neck was cleaved open in a single wrinkled fold, blood soaking the front of her blouse.

"What is all this, Janus? More victims of last night's shooter?"

"Interesting you should ask that. You know, there's one thing all of these murders have in common, Caine"

Janus flipped to a blurry phone recording of a Tenderloin alley. Caine instantly recognized himself in the video, his arms wrapping around Mina's back, pulling her in for a kiss.

"What's that?" He was breathing deeply through his stomach now, trying to prevent himself from hyperventilating.

Finally Janus flipped to a photo of the lifeless curator of the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. But something was off. Her blouse was torn open in the center, like someone had been tampering with the body.

"Buttons. At each crime scene, a single button was removed from each of the victims." She flipped her phone again. This time it was a picture of Joseph, the rapist.

Caine could feel the pressure of her eyes. She was like a wolf, waiting for just the right amount of fear in it's prey before sinking her teeth in. She just needed to back him into a corner.

Suddenly, she snapped her phone up.

Is this just some coincidence, or is someone trying to send me a message... by taking the buttons? His mind searched for meaning, some kind of reason in all of it. Of course he knew that he was the one taking the buttons from Joseph, and from the gang bangers in the alley, but the corpses? A day after an active shooter had stormed his museum opening. What the hell was going on?

"It's all still a mystery to me right now," Janus said, her voice suddenly lightening, a smile returning to her stern cheeks. "I can't make heads or tails of this."

"Sorry, I can't say I know anything about those either." Caine said earnestly, though not entirely truthfully.

"Just when I was beginning to think that everything bad happening in San Francisco was because of you!" They both laughed. Caine realized he had been holding his breath, and the sudden burst of oxygen made him dizzy.

She continued, "You've been most helpful today, Caine. Really! Tell Mina you were a good boy, and there's nothing to fear from your friendly neighborhood detective."

"What a relief, I'm just happy to help. Someday, if we can ever get those girls out of the lab, maybe we can all go for some live jazz at the Black Cat or something."

Caine pressed his palms into the cold table, getting ready to stand up and leave. He was grateful for the interrogation to be over, and was already starting to picture the cold whiskey that waited for him in his woodworking shop.

"Oh! That reminds me. One last question before you go."

Janus reached into the manila envelope and removed an exhibition catalogue, sliding it across the table to him. One of the pages had been earmarked. Opening it, the image that stared back at him was like a cruel smack in the face.

Rings of Saturn: A replica of the bullring at Maestranza. Artist: Caine Blue.

"On top of everything that happened, one of the guards reported a theft. And you know me, I gotta chase down every clue. But I'm having trouble, because the piece he described wasn't listed in the show catalogue. And yet he swore it was missing by the end of the night. I'm hoping it's something simple you can clear up for us."

Caine's heart was bounding through his throat as if it was trying to shatter his skull. As if he was freefalling through the night sky once more. Breath breath breath. It wasn't working. You only feel danger when you are still safe, he told himself. No, this wasn't like skydiving. He wasn't safe.

Janus began swiping through her phone again. "Ah, here it is. Sure enough, someone got a photo."

When she laid her phone down, a dark grey hat was clearly visible against the backdrop of Spanish columns and evening gowns. As were the the four round circles affixed to its pink sash.

"I think that's the piece he was referring to. You didn't happen to, I don't know, take it home with you?"

Caine motioned to reply, but his voice was very soft.

"No, I didn't."

"Ah, that's too bad. I guess it was stolen, then."

Janus pulled another piece of paper from her file. "In that case, would you mind filling out a police report?"

"Sure thing, what should it say?" Caine picked up a pen from the table. He moved slowly, his arms weak with fear.

"Just write a thorough description including any identifying markings, like those four buttons in the picture. If I find it, and I'm pretty good at this, you'll be the first to know."