Chapter 75

CHAPTER 75

BEFORE SUNRISE THE next morning, Poe eased his growling Dodge Shelby Charger into the NYPD staging area north of Staten Island’s Latourette Park. In the predawn mist, his headlight beams swept across police cars, SWAT trucks, and FBI vehicles, arrayed like a military squadron at the border of the New York City Farm Colony, a long-abandoned poorhouse and sanitarium.

“This is the place,” said Poe. “No question.”

“Bleak,” muttered Holmes from the passenger seat.

“It looks like a lost civilization,” said Marple, leaning forward from the back seat.

Poe pulled to a stop and turned off the ignition. They were both right. The last residents had left or died off fifty years ago. Through a cluster of trees, Poe could make out the faint outlines of century-old structures and walkways, now laced with vines and covered in faded graffiti. The scene was as grim and foreboding as anything from his namesake’s imagination.

Suddenly, a fist banged on the driver side. Poe jumped in his seat and lowered the window. It was Duff, a thick ballistic vest hanging off his narrow shoulders. “Get this thing out of the way!” he growled. “This isn’t a goddamn car show.”

Poe waited for Holmes and Marple to exit, then put the car in reverse and swung it behind a huge flat-black SWAT transport, totally out of Duff’s view. He shut down the engine and walked back to where his partners and the tall captain were standing. A phalanx of SWAT officers had formed to their right. Poe could hear the crunch of boots and the crisp sound of gun chambers being checked. Dozens of uniformed cops hung back by their idling SUVs. A squad of boxy ambulances waited one row behind.

“We did drone surveillance on the place all night,” said Duff. “Looked livelier than usual. Could be something going on.”

“Livelier than usual? Who the hell normally comes here?” asked Holmes.

“Kids mostly. Or ghost hunters,” said Duff. “And devil worshippers.” He nodded toward the underbrush and the crumbling complex beyond. “There are lots of shallow graves out here from years back.”

Poe felt a cold shiver.

“Grab your vests,” said Duff, pointing to the open trunk of an unmarked car. “And don’t leave my goddamn sight.”

Poe walked over to the trunk and lifted out a piece of NYPD-stenciled body armor. He dropped the vest over his head and tightened the Velcro straps. The vest was heavy on his shoulders, but there was something else. A dark weight inside his chest. He looked across the compound. The SWAT team was already moving in assault formation through the trees.

There was evil here. Fresh evil. Poe could feel it.