The Brain Vault (Stephanie Chalice Thrillers Book 3) by Lawrence Kelter
Authors: Lawrence Kelter
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battered body into Central Park. Stuff like that just drives me wild.
We were meeting Ambler at the FBI’s crime lab. The night receptionist led Lido and me to the conference room to wait for Ambler and Evans Jack, the department chief. There were still a few technicians working; cases I assumed that could not wait for morning and the next business day. On our way to the conference room, we passed the skull preparation unit. I stopped for a moment to watch a heavyset woman working on a small object, meticulously picking away at it with what looked like a dentist’s curette. I took a step closer as she placed the object into a small sink, which was set into her workstation. She began to irrigate with water flowing through a brown rubber tube. The breath caught in my lungs when I saw what she was working on. She used compressed air to dry the moisture from an infant’s skull.
I heard Madonna’s voice whispering in my ear, “Naponu still needs a mother. That little girl and thousands like her need someone’s help, your help.” So there I was, Stephanie Chalice, titanium-clad, invulnerable, and cool as a proverbial cucumber, standing on the floor of the FBI’s crime lab, pushing back tears.
Lido noticed that I was lagging behind. He stopped and turned. “Hey, what’s the matter?”
I turned away from the child’s skull and caught up with him.
Lido took my arm. “What’s going on?”
“I just needed to catch my breath.”
Lido had an incredulous look on his face. “You, the same woman who did a wind sprint in an evening gown the other night? You’re out of breath?”
“Just let it go. I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
The impenetrable shield was back up. I was no longer Lido’s girlfriend. I was no longer a woman with a soul that could be touched. I was back on the job and pushing past Lido before someone else saw the breach in my armor. God knows what kind of insane dream I’d have tonight. Would tonight’s reverie see the return of Madonna, Batman ... Brad Pitt? Any and all were possible and were among the visitors that frequented my subconscious hallucinations. Only time would tell. For now, though, it was time to get busy. “Time’s wasting. Let’s see what Ambler’s got for us.”
Ambler was seated at the head of the conference table. The skull was on the table in front of him, facing us. Absent the white Persian cat, with skull before him, Ambler smacked of Ernst Stavro Blofeld, the head of SPECTRE, and James Bond’s number one nemesis. At his side was Evans Jack, the department head. Jack was a huge man with short hair and a full beard. He looked odd wearing a suit. Except for the Gibson SG, he looked a lot like Billy Gibbons, ZZ Top’s lead guitarist and longtime oddball; but who am I to judge. He also looked like he could have been Blofeld’s, Number One, in any number of James Bond movies. Evans Jack jumped up to welcome us as soon as we entered the room. I shook his huge paw, and then sat down off the corner of the table, close to Ambler.
Ambler turned toward Lido and me, cool as ice, looking at us as if he had never seen us before and didn’t care if we’d ever meet again—the man was good.
“Make my day,” I said to Ambler. “Give me something we can sink our teeth into.”
“It’s the skull we’ve been looking for,” Ambler said. “There was a one hundred percent allele match to the remains of Kevin Lee—no question.”
“That sounds promising,” Lido said.
Ambler picked up a container of Starbucks coffee and sipped. “Promising in so far as we haven’t hit the wall, yes. Our UNSUB isn’t perfect. He lost one of his prized possessions, this skull. We had thought that he was meticulous because the trail has gone cold for so long, but by allowing John Doe’s escape, he has shown us that he’s capable of making mistakes.”
“Not to mention that he captures and tortures people. Have you had a chance to look in on our John Doe?”
“Not yet, Chalice.” Ambler
We were meeting Ambler at the FBI’s crime lab. The night receptionist led Lido and me to the conference room to wait for Ambler and Evans Jack, the department chief. There were still a few technicians working; cases I assumed that could not wait for morning and the next business day. On our way to the conference room, we passed the skull preparation unit. I stopped for a moment to watch a heavyset woman working on a small object, meticulously picking away at it with what looked like a dentist’s curette. I took a step closer as she placed the object into a small sink, which was set into her workstation. She began to irrigate with water flowing through a brown rubber tube. The breath caught in my lungs when I saw what she was working on. She used compressed air to dry the moisture from an infant’s skull.
I heard Madonna’s voice whispering in my ear, “Naponu still needs a mother. That little girl and thousands like her need someone’s help, your help.” So there I was, Stephanie Chalice, titanium-clad, invulnerable, and cool as a proverbial cucumber, standing on the floor of the FBI’s crime lab, pushing back tears.
Lido noticed that I was lagging behind. He stopped and turned. “Hey, what’s the matter?”
I turned away from the child’s skull and caught up with him.
Lido took my arm. “What’s going on?”
“I just needed to catch my breath.”
Lido had an incredulous look on his face. “You, the same woman who did a wind sprint in an evening gown the other night? You’re out of breath?”
“Just let it go. I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
The impenetrable shield was back up. I was no longer Lido’s girlfriend. I was no longer a woman with a soul that could be touched. I was back on the job and pushing past Lido before someone else saw the breach in my armor. God knows what kind of insane dream I’d have tonight. Would tonight’s reverie see the return of Madonna, Batman ... Brad Pitt? Any and all were possible and were among the visitors that frequented my subconscious hallucinations. Only time would tell. For now, though, it was time to get busy. “Time’s wasting. Let’s see what Ambler’s got for us.”
Ambler was seated at the head of the conference table. The skull was on the table in front of him, facing us. Absent the white Persian cat, with skull before him, Ambler smacked of Ernst Stavro Blofeld, the head of SPECTRE, and James Bond’s number one nemesis. At his side was Evans Jack, the department head. Jack was a huge man with short hair and a full beard. He looked odd wearing a suit. Except for the Gibson SG, he looked a lot like Billy Gibbons, ZZ Top’s lead guitarist and longtime oddball; but who am I to judge. He also looked like he could have been Blofeld’s, Number One, in any number of James Bond movies. Evans Jack jumped up to welcome us as soon as we entered the room. I shook his huge paw, and then sat down off the corner of the table, close to Ambler.
Ambler turned toward Lido and me, cool as ice, looking at us as if he had never seen us before and didn’t care if we’d ever meet again—the man was good.
“Make my day,” I said to Ambler. “Give me something we can sink our teeth into.”
“It’s the skull we’ve been looking for,” Ambler said. “There was a one hundred percent allele match to the remains of Kevin Lee—no question.”
“That sounds promising,” Lido said.
Ambler picked up a container of Starbucks coffee and sipped. “Promising in so far as we haven’t hit the wall, yes. Our UNSUB isn’t perfect. He lost one of his prized possessions, this skull. We had thought that he was meticulous because the trail has gone cold for so long, but by allowing John Doe’s escape, he has shown us that he’s capable of making mistakes.”
“Not to mention that he captures and tortures people. Have you had a chance to look in on our John Doe?”
“Not yet, Chalice.” Ambler
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