Page 33 of Circle of Death
As they walk along the main path through the fair, Jon sees other guys turning their heads to catch a look at his date. Red dress. Long legs. Wavy black hair. Best of all is her laugh—full-throated, with a hilarious little squeak at the end. He can’t believe he’s actually here with her.
When Britta threads her fingers through his for the first time, Jon feels like his head might explode. From that moment, the displays and pavilions are just a haze. All he wants is to be alone with her. Too bad they’re surrounded by a few thousand people and more bright lights than he’s ever seen in his life.
They walk along the winding pathways, past food stands and exhibitions, until they reach the Amazon rain forest—actually, a small sample of it. According to the sign over the entrance, the enclosed two acres of transplanted jungle represent the amount of rain forest being burned and cleared by loggers every single second.
But the two eager teenagers pay no attention to the sobering ecological message. And they’re not thinking about the massive engineering and irrigation effort it took to bring the exhibit to life. All they know is that the trees are tall and the foliage is thick and it looks like a good place to make out in privacy.
Ten yards in, they’re surrounded by ferns and kapok trees and the chatter of jungle birds. The ground is spongy with moss. The artificial canopy far above mimics the night sky, blocking the light from the rest of the fair. They head deeper into the exhibit, until they reach an isolated niche overhung with vines and thick fronds. A small stream winds through the tree roots nearby, creating a subtle rush of white noise. They don’t even need to close their eyes to imagine they’re alone in the Amazon basin. The illusion is that perfect.
By now, their clothes and hair are damp from the humidity. Britta grabs the hem of her dress and playfully pretends to wring it out. She laughs her fantastic laugh. Then abruptly, she stops. She points over Jon’s shoulder then presses against him, her eyes twitching with fear. Jon turns and spots a quick movement in the thick foliage.
Then, in a blur, he sees a raised arm and a contorted green face.
CHAPTER 38
MARGO AND I are being held in our bench by an invisible magnetic belt. The seat is transparent and our legs are dangling in midair. We’re nearing the top of the arc, gravity be damned. Margo is clinging to my arm so tightly that I can feel her fingernails through my shirt. A few minutes into the ride, she still has her doubts.
“Lamont, are you sure this thing can be trusted?”
I look down at the massive battery housing at the center of the apparatus, and the emergency generator below. “As long as the magnets hold out.”
We’re nearly seventy stories up, the height of a skyscraper. The whole fair is spread out below us like a field of light. The ascent felt thrilling and perilous. Here at the top, it’s amazingly peaceful, like being part of the sky. On the floating benches above and below us, the riders are mostly silent, just taking in the view. I feel Margo relax a bit. She leans her head against my shoulder and snuggles in.
“Remember Chicago?” she asks, looking out over the river.
I run my hand across her soft hair. “I do. Seems like another lifetime.”
When Margo and I traveled together to the 1933 World’s Fair, we barely knew each other. In fact, it was our first trip together. Terrible times for the country and the whole world. In the midst of the Great Depression, the fair was the one bright spot in the gloom.A CENTURY OF PROGRESS, the posters said.
That was the weekend when I first understood that Margo was going to be the best partner I ever had, in every possible way. On the train to Chicago, we had separate sleeping compartments. On the way back to New York, we only needed one. We’ve been together ever since.
I wrap my arms around Margo’s shoulders and lean over to kiss her cheek.
“Don’t get frisky,” she says. “You’ll give me vertigo.”
By now, we’re way above the murmur of the crowd and the sounds of traffic on the highway below. But there’s one sound that carries in open air like nothing else.
A female scream.
CHAPTER 39
BY THE TIME I get there, security has a small corner of the rain forest blocked off. Two nervous guys in white uniforms are setting up portable screens near a small artificial stream. Another guy is intercepting visitors on a nearby path and escorting them back toward the main entrance. There’s already a sign outside sayingCLOSED FOR ROUTINE MAINTENANCE. Fair patrons are just walking by without a second look.
I have a perfect view of the whole scene, and nobody’s bothering me. Nobody evennoticesme. Why would they? I’m just one more parrot in the jungle.
From the branch where I landed, I can see two teenagers lying next to each other alongside the stream. They’re young. Maybe their first date. Definitely their last one. Their skulls are caved in. Exactly like the kids in the police photos. I hop to another branch for a better angle.
The water leading away from their shattered heads is tinted red. Except for bloodstains and mud, their clothes are intact. It doesn’t look like a sex crime. What it looks like is a horror movie. Both kids are lying with their mouths hanging open and their hands clawed into the ground. From their necks to their hairlines, their faces are covered in bright green paint.
I’m feeling jumpy and guilty. If I hadn’t been so determined to take a joy ride with Margo, maybe we could have been around to stop it. Or maybe the killer spotted us and waited until he knew we were out of the way.
I hear thrashing in the underbrush, then three more men burst into the clearing. I recognize Detective Roskow right away. A couple of young uniforms follow right behind him with body bags. Roskow practically shoves one of the security guys out of the way to get to the victims. He stops just a few inches from the deceased.
“Goddamnit!” he mutters.
The detective squats for a few seconds between the two corpses, then looks up at one of the security people. “What’s the closest way out?”
The security guy looks nervous. “Should we wait for the medical examiner?”
