“I might ask you the same question. Why are we meeting here?” I asked. “And why couldn’t you talk on the phone?”

“The Feds showed up early. They took the bodies, the files, and I’m pretty sure they’ve got taps on the phones.”

I raised an eyebrow. That was alarming. I hadn’t heard about the Feds moving that fast since JFK got his head blown out.

Brueger let out a billowing cloud of smoke followed by a hacking cough, then traded the smoke for her drink. She was trying to play it hard, but she was out of her element. Like I said earlier, she was tough, but she was suit-tough, office-tough. Out on the streets, in a hellhole like the Black Cat, the drinks with the little pink umbrellas just didn’t fly.

I thought about the file I left back at my place. “Then I have the only copy of the file. Great. You think they’re on to me?”

She winced. “If they’re not yet, they will be. Take care of that file. Copy it when you get a chance.” She took a sip from her drink. The umbrella rolled around the edge of the glass and smacked her nose. “Now, what are these couple of things you wanted to ask?”

“Well, to start with, what tips did you guys follow up on? There wasn’t much in the file about the actual investigation,” I said.

A waitress with a chain through her nose came over to us and I ordered coffee. Brueger seemed shocked. I ignored her. I was determined to stay wired. It’s the only way to work these types of cases.

“What do you mean? Be specific,” she asked.

“Did you do a search on other cases where decapitations were involved?”

Brueger took a final gulp of her drink. “Of course. There are no criminal cases involving decapitations on file in this area. And we went back more than twenty years.”

I stewed on that a second, then said, “What about accidents?”

“I doubt there are many accidental beheadings,” she laughed.

“Brueger,” I said, “we only need one. Plus if you narrow the search down to women around the age of twenty, I’m sure something will pop up.”

That got her attention. “Decapitations, huh?”

“Check all kinds of accidents: cars, construction. I’m willing to gamble something comes up.”

The waitress brought our drinks. My coffee smelled like old shoe. Suddenly the little umbrella drink wasn’t looking so bad.

“I can’t promise you anything. Records aren’t filed by type of injury. What else you got?” Brueger asked, after the waitress was gone.

“This guy we’re looking for definitely has some medical background. Those kids were put back together by a pro. They used methods for bonding bones that are only now being tested by surgeons. Have you run checks on medical supply houses and shit like that?”