Page 73 of Sharp Force
“And to you. How’s it going?” Benton asks.
“Not too bad.” The officer bends down, looking at me. “I realize they already cleared you through, and I know who you are. But I still need to see an ID.”
I hand over my medical examiner creds, leaving the peace officer wallet out of sight. I’m mindful of Dana Delitti in her bright red coat and fur hat, her cameras trained in our direction. I can tell she’s flustered by the blacked-out helicopter with its wide skids, radomes and gun mounts. She’s seen it before and can guess who’s at the controls.
The Doomsday Bird is making another slow circuit, the noise ruinous to filming, and that seems to be Lucy’s intention. She’s flying low enough that I can make out her silhouette in the cockpit’s right door window.
“… Chief Medical Examiner Kay Scarpetta and her Secret Service husband, Benton Wesley, have just arrived at the entrance…”Dana Diletti says loudly into her microphone.
She’s close enough to the gate that she could touch our SUV, staring at us as she broadcasts.
“As you can hear, we have this huge helicopter flying over.” She’s almost shouting. “What’s called the Doomsday Bird, typically flown by Doctor Scarpetta’s FBI niece, Lucy Farinelli… And it’s not a coincidence that we’ve lost our connection to the Eye in the Sky…!”
“Any luck with the security cameras?” Benton asks the FBI police officer.
“They’ve been checked and apparently aren’t working.” He looks up at small white domes mounted on either side of the wall’s opening.
“Then we don’t know if anybody drove in and out early this morning around the time of the home invasion,” Benton says.
“From what I understand, when the Alexandria police arrived, there were no tire tracks in the snow. But to be honest, we can’t be sure if that’s correct.”
“Don Horace was the first one on the scene,” Benton says. “And it’s the same story I heard.”
“I believe that’s the name. I don’t know him, and he was long gone by the time we showed up. But it started raining after midnight. Tire tracks wouldn’t have survived,” the officer says. “That’s probably why Horace didn’t see them.”
“And his focus was the victim about to bleed to death on a sidewalk. He was going to be stressed out, and in a hurry,” Benton replies. “How did he get through the gate?”
“All you need to do is whelp your siren, and a sensor opens it up,” the officer says. “Not secure at all, in other words. These days,you can find a recording on your phone and do it. I know because I tried. Now we have a remote.” He holds it up.
Benton’s attention is on indented areas in the puddled grass to the left of the entrance.
“Looks like someone may have driven over there.” He points. “Or maybe parked.”
“I noticed that too,” the officer says. “But you can’t tell anything, no tread pattern, just ruts. And we don’t know how long they’ve been there.”
“It’s possible the killer didn’t drive in,” Benton decides. “Maybe he parked outside the wall and went the rest of the way on foot. Who was going to see him at that hour and in that weather?”
Dana Diletti and her crew look angry and helpless, staring up at the Doomsday Bird. I imagine Lucy enjoying herself as she makes her disruptive orbits. I watch as she lumbers in from the river at an altitude of several hundred feet, going maybe sixty knots, getting larger, louder, more alarming.
Suddenly, the TV van’s door slides open, an upset man wearing a headset boiling out.
“Cut! Cut! Cut!” he screams, and Dana Diletti motions for the cameras to stop filming.
She’s stunned. Then furious that her drone pilot would dare interrupt as if he’s the director.
“What’s happening?” she shouts at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Both are down!” he exclaims, gesturing wildly. “BOTH OF THEM ARE FUCKING DOWN!”
He must mean that the drones are.
“How could you let that happen?” Dana Diletti looks like she might kill him.
“Not my damn fault!”
“Then whose is it?” Her beautiful face is contemptuous.
Lucy has been up to her usual signal jamming. She’s just blinded the Eye in the Sky, and I’m delighted. But I don’t show it as I watch from the entrance gate, the FBI police officer a statue by Benton’s open window. They’re riveted to the drama unfolding.
