Shiver by Michael Prescott Page B

scapegoat. You’re it. They want you eighty-sixed. Want me to put another man in charge.”
    Paulson’s words hung in the room, gathering weight. Delgado knew he hadn’t spoken lightly. If he said it was time for a new man to take over the task force, he meant it.
    Still, there might be a way to change the captain’s mind. Delgado had to try. Losing the command would be a heavy blow to his career, the career that had cost him his relationship with Karen and, along with it, any hope of a life outside his job. But even that was not his main concern now. His main concern was the work of the task force itself. If someone else were brought in for political reasons, time would be lost, work needlessly duplicated, exhausted avenues of investigation reopened for no good reason. And while that happened, the Gryphon would go on killing, the intervals between murders frighteningly short.
    Slowly he stood up, facing Paulson from a yard away. He spoke quietly, choosing each word with care.
    “You’re telling me what they want. The brass and the politicians. But how about you. Bill?” It was a risk, using Paulson’s first name, but Delgado felt the need for informality between them. “This is your district. All three murders have been committed in your territory. You’re the one in charge. What do you want?”
    Paulson grunted. “I want you to catch the son of a shit.”
    “So do I.”
    “I know you do. But so far you’ve gotten nowhere. Maybe another man could come up with a new approach, an angle you haven’t thought of.”
    “Maybe. Or maybe by the time he’s brought up to speed, the body count will stand at four. Or five. Or higher.”
    “It won’t take that long to get caught up.”
    “It won’t take that long to get more bodies either.”
    Paulson returned his stare steadily, then sighed, conceding the point. “No, I guess it won’t. How long till the next one turns up?”
    “You’re asking me to guess?”
    “Yes.”
    “It could happen anytime. But I think it will be soon. Perhaps even within twenty-four hours.”
    “Shit.”
    “He’s riding high. He thinks he can’t be stopped.”
    “So tell me, Seb: Is he wrong? Can you stop him?”
    “Yes.”
    “What makes you so sure?”
    “I know him.”
    Delgado waited. There was nothing more he could say.
    After a long moment, Paulson nodded. “All right. I’ll hold them off a little longer.” He frowned. “But not forever. You’ll have to show some progress soon. Understood?”
    It was a reprieve. Not much of one, but a stay of execution nonetheless. Delgado kept his face expressionless. He could not show how much this meant to him.
    “Understood,” he answered evenly.
    “Okay, then.” Paulson was all business now. “You’re holding a news conference at two o’clock. That’s early enough to make the afternoon news shows.”
    Delgado had no doubt that the news conference originally had been scheduled for the purpose of announcing his replacement.
    “You don’t need to take any questions,” Paulson was saying. “Just make a statement. Keep it vague: The investigation is ongoing and the task force is currently exploring several promising leads, no further details to be released at this time for fear of jeopardizing the case, et cetera.”
    Delgado nodded. “Anything else. Captain?”
    Paulson paused in the doorway.
    “Just catch him, for Christ’s sake,” he said coldly. “I want that feathered motherfucker grounded—permanently.”
    A moment later the door banged shut, and Delgado was left alone in the room.
    He returned to his desk and sighed. A little longer, the captain had said. What span of time was implied by those words? Another couple of weeks? Perhaps not even that much, if the Gryphon kept busy. Could he solve the case, make an arrest, in a matter of days? Not unless one of the leads unexpectedly panned out, or the killer started making mistakes, big ones. Well, he could only proceed with the various strategies he’d been