A Darkness More Than Night - Michael Connelly [17]
The call was picked up by a machine and while listening to Doran’s outgoing message McCaleb quickly tried to decide whether to leave a message or just call back. Initially, he thought it would be better to hang up and try to catch Doran live later because a personal call is much more difficult to deflect than a taped message. But then he decided to put faith in their former camaraderie, even if he had been out of the bureau for nearly five years.
“Brass, it’s Terry McCaleb. Long time no see. Uh, listen, I’m calling because I need a favor. Could you call me back as soon as you get a moment? I’d really appreciate it.”
He gave the number for his cell phone, thanked her and hung up. He could take the phone with him back to the house and wait for the call there but that would mean that Graciela might overhear the conversation with Doran and he didn’t want that. He went back down to the forward bunk and started through the murder book documents again. He checked every page again for something that stood out in its inclusion or exclusion. He took a few more notes and made a list of things he still needed to do and know before drawing up a profile. But primarily he was just waiting for Doran. She finally returned his call at five-thirty.
“Long time is right,” she said by way of greeting.
“Too long. How y’doin’, Brass?”
“Can’t complain because nobody listens.”
“I heard you guys are looking for the Drano over there.”
“You’re right about that. We are clogged and flogged. You know last year we sent half the staff to Kosovo to help in the war crimes investigations. On six-week rotations. That just killed us. We are still so far behind it’s getting critical.”
McCaleb wondered if she was giving him the woe-is-me pitch so he might not ask the favor he had mentioned on the message. He decided to go ahead with it anyway.
“Well, then you aren’t going to like hearing from me,” he said.
“Oh boy, I’m shaking in my boots. What do you need, Terry?”
“I’m doing a favor for a friend out here. Sheriff’s homicide squad. Taking a look at a homicide and —”
“Did he already run it through here?”
“It’s a she. And, yeah, she ran it on the VICAP box and got blanked. That’s all. She got the word on how backed up you guys are on profiling and came to me instead. I sort of owe her one so I said I’d take a look.”
“And now you want to cut in line, right?”
McCaleb smiled and hoped she was smiling as well on the other end of the line.
“Sort of. But I think it’s a quickie. It’s just one thing I want.”
“Then out with it. What?”
“I need an iconography baseline. I’m following a hunch on something.”
“Okay. Doesn’t sound too involving. What’s the symbol?”
“An owl.”
“An owl? Just an owl?”
“More specifically, a plastic owl. But an owl just the same. I want to know if it’s turned up before and what it means.”
“Well, I remember the owl on the bag of potato chips. What’s that brand?”
“Wise. I remember. It’s an East Coast brand.”
“Well, there you go. The owl is smart. He is wise.”
“Brass, I was hoping for something a little more —”
“I know, I know. Tell you what, I’ll see what I can find. The thing to remember is, symbols change. What means one thing at one time might mean something completely different at another time. You just looking for contemporary uses and examples?”
McCaleb thought for a moment about the message on the duct tape.
“Can you throw in the medieval time period?”
“Sounds like you got a weird one — but ain’t they all. Let me guess, a holy shit case?”
“Could be. How’d you know that?”
“Oh, all that medieval