Chapter 26
Twisted Sister
-- Flushing --
She sat in her dollhouse chair dressed in dollhouse clothes waiting for the doll maker to arrive. In her lap sat a wooden doll, a tiny replica, specially crafted to look exactly like her. The small doll appeared hauntingly lifelike. They shared the same color hair, eyes and facial features, both of them beautiful to behold. They were even dressed alike.
That is what I am. Lifelike.
The human doll felt her skin and ran a hand through her thick, dark hair. She even cupped her hand over her mouth and exhaled so she could smell her breath. The doll maker liked the scent of peppermint.
Lifelike.
She heard steps coming up the stairs. Her skin crawled.
I wish, I wish, I wish I could be like my doll.
She heard a key rattle in the door and stood, knees weak, bowing her head. The door opened and the doll maker stepped inside. She heard him shut the door and set his keys on the table. She lifted her head and smiled, clutching her doll to her chest.
“Hello, Daddy.”
--
Jamie sat at the workbench listening to the tapes of Emil Dózsa’s interrogation. He wore headphones to help him concentrate. He’d done hours of research through FBI archives on everything to do with the Cuman Union and come up with nothing to help them in their fight. Now, in desperation, he decided to go through the almost two-dozen hours of Dózsa’s questioning.
Jamie was surprised his remote access codes to the FBI mainframes still worked, thinking Mann would have had them blocked. Of course Mann might hope Jamie would find something all the analysts had missed. Then again maybe Mann sought to track their whereabouts through Jamie’s ISP.
Good luck with that, my man.
Whatever the reasons Jamie had struck out during his search of the files on the CU. So he’d been left with the tapes. He listened as Dózsa took Nix and Schmidt on a meandering journey through his time with the Cuman Union. It was an endless loop of misinformation. Jamie began to nod off. He’d almost reached the end of the last audio file.
Huh?
Jamie’s eyes fluttered open and he sat up. He looked at the computer screen then moved the audio cursor back to the left and listened again. Then he listened a third time. He pulled off his headphones and looked around the workshop.
“Sarkey’s in the bathroom.”
Jamie looked at Peter. He’d just returned from checking the perimeter.
“What?”
“If you’re looking for Sarkey --”
“Can you speak Hungarian?”
“No, but Irina can.”
Sure she can.
“I need her. Now.”
Peter tapped his earpiece. “Irina, der FBI-Agent braucht dich. Nein, die anderen ein.”
“She speaks German. Of course.”
Peter smiled.
“And Russian, English, Italian and Hungarian.”
“Okay. I get it,” he surrendered, holding up his hands.
YOU ARE READING
The Law of Three
Mystery / ThrillerHere's a story of madness, of lost religion, of the mafia and vampires, of unusual loves. If you hated Twilight, you might like this. Even if you liked Twilight, you might like this. Written by a casual historian and skilled novelist, I'm posting it...
