Germain put her hand to her mouth, thinking. Buying the potential victims' cooperation sounded fine... she didn't know who the patron was backing Sebastian, but she should be able to get that kind of funding herself if she asked 707. Sebastian would become Blues-harp Babysplit, and she would become Blackberry Brown...
"And we shouldn't call for police backup, right?"
"Yes. We might be able to protect the victim's life, but the scale of the operation would be too large. The killer would be more likely to escape. And our deductions are not enough evidence to make the police take action, anyway. Our reading of the killer's message is accurate at a ninety-nine percent chance, but however good it sounds, we have no proof. If they tell us it's all rootless speculation, we'd be done for."
"'Rootless."
"With nothing to support it."
She was pretty sure there was a different word for that. But he had a point.
If she asked her boyfriend in the FBI... no, she couldn't do that. Germain was suspended and she'd told Sebastian she was a detective. Her actions of the past week could get her in hot water if the agency found out. Even if she was really working for 707 she couldn't exactly admit that in public... "The killer is presumably working alone, but, Sebastian, when it comes time to arrest him there will be a struggle."
"Don't worry. I can take him one on one. I may not look it, but am quite strong. And you're trained in Capoeira, right?"
"Yeah, but..."
"Germain, can you use a gun?"
"Eh? No, I ca... can, but I don't have one."
"Then I shall prepare one. You should be armed. So far this was merely a detective war with the killer, but from here on our lives are on the line. You should be ready for anything, Germain," Sebastian said, biting his thumbnail.
And so...
With any number of inconsistencies and anxieties, Tabitha Germain spent the night in a hotel in West L.A. She called 707 from her hotel room and asked him for financial backing, and to check up on all the evidence they had uncovered. She wondered if 707 would suggest that lying in wait was too dangerous, and they should make the safety of the potential victims their first priority, wondered if he would oppose the strategy Sebastian had suggested, (part of her had hoped he would), but 707 seemed to be quite in favor of it. Germain asked him two or three times if she could really trust Sebastian, but he said again that there was no harm in letting him proceed. But of course, by the 22nd, everything would be resolved...
"Please, Tabitha Germain," 707 said. "Whatever you do, please catch the killer." Whatever you do.
Whatever. "Understood."
"Thank you. However, Germain, while it is true that we are unable to ask for help publicly from the police, I can supply some private backup. I plan to station a few individuals working directly for me in the area around the condominiums. They do not need any solid proof to activate, Of course, they will keep their distance, but..."
"Okay, sounds good."
When her conversation with 707 was finished it was past midnight-it was already August 21st. She would have to spend the entirety of the 22nd in Pasadena, which meant she had to arrive early on the evening of the 21st. With all that in mind, she knew it would be a struggle, but she climbed into the hotel bed, hoping to get a good night's sleep.
"Wait," she murmured.
As cobwebs formed over her mind, she murmured, "Now... when did I tell Sebastian about the Capoeira?"
She didn't know.
And there was one other thing she didn't know. Something she didn't even know she didn't know.
Even so, even with that in mind, she might have guessed. After, B looks like thirteen, and thirteen is the number of the tarot card named Death...
And so.
With any number of inconsistencies and anxieties, and one significant failure... the story's climax arrives.
Case study.
I had originally intended to keep the reasons for Tabitha Germain leave of absence (which was effectively a suspension from duty) out of these notes-had planned to remain vague about all the details. If I could, I absolutely would stick to that plan. I mean it.
However, since I now find myself attempting to describe the look in Tabitha Germain's eyes as she grasped the gun Sebastian had given her in both hands (It was a Strayer-Voigt Infinity model), I can no longer skirt the issue. I can't just fast forward to the next scene without explaining the reasons behind that look.
That said, it's not a terribly complicated story. Putting it as simply as possible, the team she worked with had spent months secretly investigating and infiltrating a drug cartel, and she had blown the whole operation-because at a critical juncture, she had been unable to pull the trigger. While she did not customarily carry a gun with her, it was different on duty-nor did she have any intention of making pathetic excuses about not being able to shoot another human being.
Tabitha Germain was a trained FBI agent. She did not imagine her hands were clean, or that she was above such things. But she had not been able to pull the trigger. Her gun had been aimed at a child of only thirteen years... which didn't in any way excuse it. Thirteen or not, he was a dangerous criminal. But Tabitha Germain had let him get away, and the secret investigation that many of her fellow agents had poured countless hours and an unbelievable amount of work into ended with nothing to show for it. Everything was finished. They had arrested no one, and while no one had died, there had been some agents injured so severely they might never be able to return to active duty-horrific results, considering the efforts squandered. Despite her own weak position within the organization, the fact that she had only been forced to take a leave of absence was rather lenient.
Tabitha Germain honestly did not know why she had been unable to pull the trigger. Perhaps she did not possess the proper self awareness... the proper resolve that an FBI agent should have. Her boyfriend had said, "I guess you couldn't live up to your nickname, Germain Massacre," somewhere between sarcasm and trying to cheer her up, but since she didn't understand it herself she hadn't protested.
But Tabitha Germain remembered.
The moment she'd pointed the gun at him... The eyes that child had turned toward her.
Like he was staring at something he couldn't believe, like the grim reaper had just appeared before him. Like it was absurd. He could kill other people, but he had never imagined that he might be killed himself. But he should have known, he should have been ready to die the moment he first took a life.
As any criminal would. As any FBI agent would. That threat hung over them all. She was part of the system. That child was part of the system too. Perhaps that had weakened their resolve. Perhaps that had numbed them to the threat.
