Текст книги "The Executioner"

Автор книги: Chris (2) Carter

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Текущая страница: 27 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

Hundred and Forty

The argument was slipping away from Hunter. If it did, he knew he and Mollie were as good as dead.

‘Why would God give you such a vain task when he’s omnipotent?’ he asked steadily. ‘Isn’t God almighty? Doesn’t God have the power to give and take life at the blink of an eye? If God wanted Mollie dead, why would he need you? A snap of his fingers and she’d be gone. And what would you have gained from that?’ Hunter paused for a split second and saw doubt flourish in John Woods’s eyes. He quickly pressed on. ‘Nothing. No knowledge, no experience, no lesson learned. A futile task that would’ve taken God a nanosecond to complete. My understanding is that God doesn’t hand out futile tasks.’

The concern in John’s face grew.

‘Your task was to understand your daughter. To help her control and comprehend the gift she’d been given. Who do you think gave her that gift in the first place, John? The devil doesn’t have that power.’

Another head whoosh. Hunter could feel the blood running down his arm. He could hear it dripping onto the floor and he felt his legs starting to lose their strength. He knew he didn’t have much time left.

‘She cursed her mother,’ John shot back with rage. ‘She told her she would die.’

‘No, she didn’t. She tried to prevent it, and if you had listened to her your wife would be here now. Don’t you see, John? Hidden in Mollie’s gift is the ability to help people. She can help prevent some people from suffering, but she can’t do it alone. She needs others to listen to her.’

‘Like you did?’

‘Yes, like I did. She was crying out for your help. And she still is. All she needed was your support, your understanding. Your task was to see beyond the masquerade. To overcome your own prejudice and find good in what you thought was evil.’

John shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He looked uncomfortable, doubtful of his actions. His grip on the gun slackened a fraction and Hunter ventured a new step forward, but John snapped back as if waking up from a dream.

‘NO.’ His shout was full of anger. ‘I followed the task as it was given to me. She has to die. Like all the others had to die.’

Others? Hunter thought.

‘They had to die so I could find the devil child.’

And suddenly it dawned on Hunter. The blond girl in the living room – on her knees – her throat slit open. Claire Anderson – her throat slit open. The girls in the paper. Hunter read it so quickly he’d forgotten about them. They were all brunettes. They were all around Mollie’s age. And they all had been found naked, on their knees, hands tied in a prayer position with their throats cut open. John Woods had been in LA for days searching for Mollie. His frustration and anger exploding inside him as he failed to locate her. He projected his hatred onto girls that looked like her. He was killing Mollie over and over again. But more than that, John did believe his daughter was special, that she could sense other people’s suffering. He knew she was a good person. He knew she would always try to help. He killed those girls not only because they looked like Mollie, but so Mollie would sense it. He was flushing her out. John Woods was the Slasher.

‘And die she will,’ John said, lifting his gun. ‘And so will you.’

Hunter saw the determination in John’s eyes as he tightened his finger around the trigger.

Game over.

Hundred and Forty-One

The thunderous gunshot was muffled by the torrential rain that drummed the windows. The wall behind him was splashed with blood, bits of flesh and skin. The air was instantly filled with the smell of cordite.

Hunter’s body slumped forward, but in a last charge of strength he managed to hold onto the wall with his good arm. The combination of the loss of blood and the adrenalin of the moment gave him an incredible headrush and he lost his balance for an instant. As his eyes regained focus, he saw John Woods fall to his knees. Blood dripping from the gunshot wound in his right hand that’d obliterated three of his fingers. His mouth was half open, his eyes staring up in horror. Only then Hunter saw her. Mollie was holding Hunter’s gun John had kicked to the side. He saw her cock the hammer, ready for a second shot.

‘Mollie, don’t,’ Hunter called, dashing forward – both of his palms facing her in a wait gesture. ‘Don’t do it.’

She was shaking. Tears streaming down her face. ‘He killed Su . . . Susan. He was going to kill you.’

‘I understand, Mollie. But this time it’s really over. Let me deal with this.’

From the floor, John Woods let out an animalistic grunt before vomiting explosively. The pain of lost fingers, broken bones, torn ligaments and the loss of blood proving too much for him.

‘He raped me so many times.’ There was no anger in her voice, only pain. Mollie’s gaze flipped back to Hunter. ‘I’m so scared.’

‘I know, honey.’ Hunter’s voice was tender and concerned. ‘But there’s nothing for you to be scared of anymore. It’s really over, I promise you. He won’t ever hurt anyone else.’

There was a sudden rush of footsteps along the corridor.

‘Drop the gun. Drop it now,’ two LAPD officers shouted. Their aims fixed on Mollie.

‘Hold on.’ Hunter turned and faced them with his hands up in surrender, putting his body between their guns and Mollie. ‘I’m Homicide Special Detective Robert Hunter.’ He gestured towards the badge on his belt. ‘This situation is under control. Lower your weapons.’

The officers exchanged anxious looks. ‘It doesn’t look under control to me, sir,’ one of them replied.

‘This is how I control my situations.’

Both policemen frowned.

‘Keep him under watch.’ Hunter nodded in John’s direction. ‘He’s the Slasher killer you guys have been looking for.’

‘What?’

‘You’ll probably find a knife on him with blood traces from all the Slasher’s victims.’ Hunter tilted his head sadly. ‘Unfortunately, there’s another victim in the living room.’

After a quick hesitation their guns moved their aim onto John Woods.

As Hunter spun around and faced Mollie again, he heard one of the officers radioing in the surprising news and requesting an ambulance.

‘C’mon, Mollie,’ Hunter whispered, stepping closer, grabbing a towel from the floor and offering it to her.

The tense moment between them seemed to last a lifetime.

She uncocked the gun and placed it in his hand. ‘You’re the only one who’s ever believed me. You’re the only one I trust.’

With tears in her eyes she hugged him.

Hundred and Forty-Two

Christmas Day

Garcia opened the door wearing the tackiest sweater Hunter had ever seen – a purple, red, pink and lime-green furry monstrosity that looked at least two sizes too big. His nose was bandaged as if he’d been through a nose job. Dark bruises under both of his eyes.

‘Whoa.’ Hunter jumped back pointing at Garcia’s sweater. ‘Does that thing bite?’

‘I know, I know.’ Garcia put on a face. ‘My mother knitted it for me. She brought it over this morning. I have to wear it or else she’ll be upset.’

‘She’s punishing you, that’s what she’s doing.’

‘Yeah, probably. Come in,’ Garcia said, showing him into the apartment. The Christmas tree in the far corner of the room was alive with flickering lights and decorations. Soft, old-fashioned seasonal music and a rainbow of mouth-watering smells warmed the room.

‘How’s the arm?’ Garcia asked.

‘Still hurts, but nothing I can’t handle. I have to give the gym a miss for a few months, though.’

‘And that’s what worries you the most, isn’t it?’

Hunter shrugged. ‘How’s the nose?’

‘Broken. I’ll have to give up head-butting for a few months,’ he teased. ‘I heard you got a call from the mayor, and it wasn’t to talk about his wife.’

An indifferent shrug this time.

‘You’re flavor of the month, Robert. You’re in everyone’s good books, including Captain Blake and Chief Collins. Two serial killers in one night? That’s gotta be a new record. Did you hear they finally found James Reed?’

Hunter nodded.

‘We were right; he never left Los Angeles County. His lover lives in Ranchos Palos Verdes. We couldn’t find the car because it was in her garage. How’s Mollie?’

‘She’s OK, considering. She’s been sedated for the past two days.’

‘What’s gonna happen to her?’

A subtle shake of the head. ‘She will decide. She’s eighteen today, legally an adult. But I’ve already talked to a very good friend of mine who happens to be one of the best psychiatrists in Los Angeles. She agreed to see Mollie free of charge for as long as it takes. Mollie’s been through a hell of a lot and she’ll need a lot of help. I’ll do my best to be there for her.’

‘I know you will.’ Garcia smiled. ‘She can also count on me.’

‘I’m dropping by later this afternoon to wish her happy birthday and merry Christmas.’

‘Great. We’ll sort her out a huge plate with a bit of everything. Hospitals’ Christmas meal must suck. Besides, when Anna and my mom get together in the kitchen, they cook enough food to feed a platoon.’

‘I can see.’ Hunter nodded towards the table overcrowded with colorful dishes.

‘And there’s still more to come.’ Anna came out of the kitchen wearing a blue and white apron with the words ‘Kiss the chef’ across the front of it.

‘Don’t mind if I do,’ Hunter said with a smile and kissed her on both cheeks. He was introduced to Garcia’s mother, Janet, a tall and authoritative woman with perfectly styled short blond hair, dazzling blue eyes and the sweetest, most calming voice Hunter had ever heard.

During lunch, Hunter was amused by Janet’s stories of a young Garcia in Brazil.

‘So you used to be good at soccer?’ Hunter asked as he and Garcia did the dishes.

‘I still am,’ Garcia shot back proudly.

‘I’ll take your word for it.’

A few silent seconds went by.

‘There’s something I wanted to ask you, Robert.’

‘Shoot.’

‘I was handcuffed to the chair when I came to. It’s logical to assume Tyler cuffed you as well.’

‘He did.’ Hunter nodded.

‘How the hell did you get out of those handcuffs?’

Hunter smiled. ‘A trick I learned a long time ago.’

‘Care to share?’

‘I always keep two sets of cuff keys with me.’

‘Huh?’

‘I keep a set where everyone expects to find one – together with my handcuffs on my holster. That’s how I could throw Dan the keys when he asked for them. But here’s my magic trick.’ Hunter undid his belt.

‘Hey, hey. If Anna or my mom walks into the kitchen right now, this ain’t gonna look good.’

‘Relax.’ Hunter showed Garcia the secret pocket in the back of his belt. A set of handcuff keys safely tucked inside. ‘It happened to me once before a long time ago. So I decided it’d never happen again. If you ever get caught off guard and you end up handcuffed, nine out of ten times your hands will be cuffed behind your back.’

‘Clever sonofabitch.’ Garcia chuckled. ‘I’m definitely stealing that idea.’

Hundred and Forty-Three

Mollie was standing by the window, silently watching the drizzling rain, when Hunter poked his head through the door.

‘May I come in?’

She turned around and forced a thin smile. ‘What’s the secret password?’

Hunter thought about it for a second. ‘Now, let me see . . . It’s either happy birthday—’ his right hand appeared holding a birthday cake ‘—or merry Christmas.’ He pushed the door open, revealing a nicely wrapped box under his injured left arm.

Her eyes widened. ‘Oh my God. That’s all for me?’

‘Uh-huh.’ Hunter stepped into the room and placed the cake on the small table by the bed. ‘Here, merry Christmas and happy birthday.’ He handed her the present. ‘I hope you like it.’

Mollie sat on the bed and unwrapped it eagerly, her jaw dropping as she stared at the box.

‘It’s a laptop,’ Hunter said.

‘I can see that.’ Tears flooded her eyes.

‘A word processor and several other applications are already preinstalled. You said you wanted to be a writer. I hope this will help.’

‘Oh my God. I can’t believe you remembered.’ The joy in her voice was contagious. She leaned forward and kissed Hunter’s right cheek, and for a brief moment he looked embarrassed.

‘I hope you’re hungry,’ he said with a wait gesture before stepping out of the room again. Two seconds later he reappeared holding two massive food dishes wrapped in cling film. ‘Compliments of Carlos and his wife.’

Mollie did a double take. ‘Wow, that’s a lot of food.’ She smiled. ‘Maybe I can offer some of it to the other patients. There’ll be a lot left over.’

‘That would be very nice of you,’ Hunter replied with a smile. ‘Mollie, I wanted to ask you something,’ he said in a more serious tone. ‘The safety on my gun was on. I know it was on because I flicked it on.’

She nodded shyly. ‘I know. I flicked it off.’

‘How did you know?’

‘Mr. Higgins.’

Hunter frowned.

‘He and his wife own the diner I used to work at in Lynwood. They’d been robbed at gunpoint so many times they kept a pistol behind the counter and one in the kitchen. They made sure everyone who worked there knew how to use them just in case. I know how to reload, chamber and unchamber a round, cock the hammer and check the safety.’

Hunter chuckled. ‘I’ll be damned. Only in the United States of America you’d be able to get a job in a diner and be taught not only how to wait on tables but also how to use a firearm.’

A kind-looking nurse knocked gently at the door. ‘I’m sorry, detective, but she needs to rest now.’

‘It’s OK.’ Hunter grabbed his jacket. ‘I’ll check on you tomorrow, kiddo.’

‘Robert,’ Mollie called as Hunter reached the door. ‘Thank you for everything. For the present, for remembering, for believing in me, for being there and for saving my life.’

Hunter faced her and smiled. ‘Thank you for saving mine.’