on Central Park West. Unlisted number. The line is registered to a Michael Cornwall."
on Central Park West. Unlisted number. The line is registered to a Michael Cornwall."
"Because you read it in the papers," Chris said. "He's supposedly an inspector from Scotland Yard, in
town for the convention, who's been assisting Loomis on this case because he was involved in that case
in Whitechapel. Only get this, Loomis has put out an A.P.B. on him. We've been monitoring police calls
from here." He pointed to the portable police band radio set up on the table. "This Cornwall assaulted
two police officers last night and stole their cruiser. If he's a cop, I'm your aunt Mary."
"It's the same damn story all over again," said Megan. "The locals are screwing up their case and they're
trying to cover their own asses. So much for Loomis. He wasn't getting anywhere because he had one of
the damn killers working right alongside him. Can you believe it? Christ, they've made a mess of it.
Where's the rest of the team?"
"I sent them out to put Ramirez and his house under surveillance," Rosowitz said. "He's over on 2535
Declovina. Anybody goes in or out of there gets tailed."
"Surveillance, hell," said Megan. "We're moving in. Come on, let's go."
Not five minutes after they left, Loomis arrived at the door of their room with the hotel manager. He
knocked on the door, hard, several times.
"Open up, police!"
There was no response.
"Open it," he said to the manager.
"Uh, Lieutenant, I really should see a warrant . . ."
Loomis grabbed the keys from him and opened the door himself, then went into the room. It was empty.
The first thing he spotted was the police band radio on the table. There was a notepad beside it. He went
over and picked it up. Written on the notepad was, "Cornwall, Michael; Loomis A.P.B.; assaulted two
cops, stole cruiser. Same name as an address for jacket printout trace."
"Shit, " said Loomis. He turned and rushed out of the room.
They parked a short distance down the block from the adobe house on Declovina Street and Megan
used her radio, with its special frequency and built-in scrambler circuit, to contact the surveillance team.
"This is Leary," she said. "We just got here. Give me a report."
"Chambers here," came the reply. "Things are pretty quiet in there. A little while ago, we had some
activity. Two of them came out with Ramirez. Young male, mid to late twenties, about average height,
slim, curly blond hair, shoulder length, dressed in jeans and a short warlock's cassock. Young female,
answering your description of Kira. They had Ramirez between them. He was blindfolded. They got into
a tan rental sedan and drove off. Andrews and Stein are on them. We've got at least one more in the
house. Young male, long white hair, late teens or early twenties, about five-eight, five-nine, athletic build.