Текст книги "Crime after Crime"

Автор книги: Tara W. Kent

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 8 страниц)

Chapter Twenty

              The officers crowded into the diner booth. The Upper West Side retro joint was a favorite of Phillips’, who packed them all into his car and drove them over.

The body had been called in to Langley, who had nearly blown Newport’s top off for dragging her into Central Park in the middle of the night. Still, she must have sensed something bad had gone down. She’d shut up pretty quickly and waved them off, promising to take over the crime scene from there. Weary and still scared, it was time for a round of hot food and cold drinks.

              Phillips called for a round of beer that they sucked back lustily. The frumpy waitress came back soon after with platters stacked high with french fries, club sandwiches, bacon cheeseburgers, and chicken strips. The crew attacked the food, licking fingers clean of ketchup and plum sauce. There wasn’t much conversation until they’d finished their meals and leaned back, sighing happily. The horror of the night had been at least partially erased.

              “All right, Detective, now I have to ask: what the heck were you thinking going in alone and unarmed like that?” said Newport.

              “I’m going to interpret that as: glad you’re safe, Daniels,” said Kim wryly.

              “You may interpret as you like, but I’d rather you told me what was going on.”

              Kim exhaled. “Psycho-killer’s parameters. No company, no guns, no nothing. I didn’t want to put Kane at risk.”

              “Can we please talk about how I almost died?” said Alex. “That was so not cool. Plus Mr. King of Spades didn’t even feed me. He had to gag me after I wouldn’t stop asking him for a breakfast sandwich and an Americano. It’s like, com’on, if you’re going to hold someone captive, at least give them a biscuit or something. The man has no notion of hospitality.”

              “What happened today?” Kim asked curiously. “Before I showed up, that is.”

              Alex shrugged. “After he showed up at my apartment, stuffed me in his car, and blindfolded me, I ended up in a windowless space. Completely unidentifiable. He was busy on his computer most of the time. Believe me, his whole little Dapper Gentleman-cum-Psycho-Killer act was purely for you, Daniels. He spent the entire time either ignoring me or telling me to shut up. Very unpleasant fellow.” He considered for a moment. “Maybe I can get a role as a kidnapping victim out of this. They’d have to give me the part after what happened. Sympathy role. I’d take it, I don’t care.”

              “Now don’t you go blabbing about this until we get the case squared away,” Kim warned.

The officers sighed heavily, thinking of the reports, the casework, and yes, the explaining, that was going to have to happen the following day.

“Let’s not think about it now,” Kim said. “Let’s get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

Chapter Twenty-One

              Kim knocked tentatively on Alex’s door early the next morning.

              “Kane, you in there?” she called. She heard shuffling on the other side. The door swung open, snapping on its chain. One eye peered out from behind the door. “For heaven’s sake, it’s just me, Daniels. Open up.”

              The chain rattled and the door swung open slowly. Alex was still in plaid pajamas and a matching robe. His eyes were bloodshot and his face puffy. It didn’t look like he’d slept much.

              “You look like hell,” Kim commented. She marched in and dropped a paper bag on the kitchen table. She thrust a paper cup into his hand. “Coffee. Drink.”

              Alex tipped it back, taking a long sip. Kim sat at the table with her takeout English breakfast tea. She unwrapped two sandwiches. The heavenly smell of hot biscuit, eggs, cheese, and sausage filled the kitchen. Alex’s stomach rumbled.

              “Sit and eat.” The actor did as told, inhaling the meal in a minute flat. She thrust hers at him. “Here, eat mine too,” she said in a softened tone. “You must be starving after yesterday.” Kane threw her a grateful glance and devoured the second sandwich as quickly as the first.

              “How was your night?” Kim said. Truth be told, she was worried about him. She’d spent most the night tossing and turning, partly wracking her brain over how they were going to close the case and partly over guilt. She was supposed to protect the man, but instead she’d let him land in seriously hot water. He hadn’t been killed, thank God, but she could only imagine how traumatizing such a situation could be to a civilian. Blood, bodies, and near-death experiences were part of her job description. But he’d lived in a totally different world. He’d asked simply to follow and observe her, not to be kidnapped, held, and nearly offed. She felt personally responsible for his suffering. Somehow she had to make it right.

              Alex took another long sip of coffee. “Wasn’t my best sleep. Every time I started to nod off, I started to freak out that our King of Spades with going to get slicey with his sword. Nothing a visit to Dr. Sampson won’t fix.” He managed a weak grin.

              “Please tell me you’re not going back to that swindler,” Kim cautioned.

              “Not on your life. He’d just send me off with a useless prescription and a textbook thrown at my head, anyway.”

              Kim tried for a weak smile. They sat in awkward silence for a moment. “Kane, look,” she started. “I didn’t come here just to fill you with cholesterol. I also want to apologize for what happened last night.”

              Alex looked up from his coffee, surprise registering on his face. “Daniels, you weren’t the one with a psychopathic agenda that happened to involve moonlight dates with sharp blades. In fact, I should be thanking you for having the balls to put yourself in danger to rescue me. For all you knew, you could have been the second item on the shish-kebab.”

              Kim grimaced. “No, it was stupid. I should have had a hell of a better plan. I wasn’t sure how closely the killer was tracking us, so I didn’t want to put you at risk by involving other people. So instead I purposefully left on time, purposefully didn’t take my mug home. I was relying on Newport’s scary attention to detail. That he’d pick up that something was going on and track me. But that’s a pretty tenuous thing to count on when it comes to someone’s life. I want to say how sorry I am for taking that kind of chance.”

              Alex looked at Kim curiously. Her pale face registered something deeper than apology. There was sadness there, regret, and possibly even shame. Her unhappiness touched him in a way he didn’t expect. He was so used to seeing her strong, confidant, and in charge. But here was another side to the detective, one much more vulnerable. Despite himself, he was curious.

              “Daniels, please don’t believe I hold you accountable. Not in the least. You’re good police. I was assigned to you and Detective Newport because the two of you are known for your unique style in solving cases. You’ve had a bad spell lately, sure, but so do all detectives, or at least that’s what I understand.              I wanted to shadow talent, not hacks good at imitating some departmental model of efficiency. Part of real talent involves taking risks. That’s what you did for me last night.”

              Kim shook her head slowly. “A risk that could have gotten you killed. What I’m afraid, Kane, is that I can’t protect you. I’m going to have to ask you to transfer to another team – for your own safety.”

              “I don’t agree. I trust you, Daniels. Whether you believe it or not.”

              Alex leaned across the table. He wanted badly to rest is hand on the detective’s, to tell her that whatever was eating her, it was going to be OK. That kind of tenderness surprised him. His marriage to his ex-wife had been characterized by searing passion or raging fights. Nothing in between. Nothing sweet or subtle. But here he was, wanting to comfort a woman he barely knew.

As if sensing his interest, Kim shook off her mood. Her face resumed its normal business-like guise. “It’s your decision, Kane,” she said in a clipped tone. She allowed herself a small smile. “I just don’t want your next role to be a ghost on Time After Time.”

Alex smiled politely in response. He couldn’t stop thinking, though, that underneath the Kimberly Daniels that most people saw was a completely different person. One she tried to keep hidden from the world. The strange part was that he wanted to know that woman. His instincts told him it wouldn’t be easy.

 

 

Chapter Twenty Two

“I can’t believe you guys,” sputtered Maria Langley, arms crossed as she stood at her desk. “Daniels, you got a hell of a lot of balls going unarmed to meet a killer. Newport, you’re even ballsier for dragging me out of my beauty sleep. You bunch owe me a heck of a lot of vanilla skim lattes, you hear me? Hell, make them beers and be done with it.”

The detectives let Langley say her piece. Half the fun was in her fireworks. She was a fantastic cop who knew her stuff when it came to fieldwork. They knew she’d deliver on the killer. They needed her to. Captain Woodside was going to be calling them in any minute, and they’d better have some answers or things were not going to be good.

“She’s fiery,” commented Alex, who’d refused to miss a minute of the action.

Langley shot him a deathly look. “You better be grateful you’re handsome, pretty boy, or I’d cut you a new one right here and now.”

“Don’t mind him,” Kim said. “He likes being pushed around by strong women.”

Alex winked at her lasciviously. “As long as it’s in bed, who wouldn’t, Detective?”

Kim rolled her eyes. “All right, Langley, we’re sorry. Really. But I think you know our asses are seriously on the line here. Did you get anything off the killer?”

“You better believe I did.” Maria plunked down in her chair and started scrolling through her files. “Ran his fingerprints and didn’t take a minute before I had some very juicy reading indeed.” The detectives leaned in eagerly. Maria clicked on a file and brought up a dossier complete with the killer’s photo, fingerprints, and a detailed record.

“Our killer’s name is Oliver Fulton, and he has a very interesting history. He’s been in the system for a while, in fact. Arrested when he was nothing but a teenager. Fifteen years old. Placed in a youth psychiatric institution. Denied release and transferred to an adult institution. Wasn’t released until about a year ago, in fact. Which means he was locked up for the best part of 30 years.”

The detectives, Phillips, and Kane exchanged puzzled looks. “I know this may be an obvious question, but what’d they get him for? In the first place, I mean,” said Craig.

Langley pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. “Looks like this chavo was a real head case. Biology teacher noticed he had a real passion for dissection. Loved it so much he asked for extra credit. Teach thought he was just a keen student at first, but became creeped out by his intensity. She found him after hours one day, working on a street cat. He’d tortured the poor thing before ripping out its heart. She reported him to authorities. Cops swept his house. Turns out his parents had been covering for him. They found evidence that he’d been doing the same thing in the basement to other animals. Guess he decided to off the cat in the lab because he wanted the proper tools.”

Langley shivered. “They also found other disturbing things – hit lists of students, graphic short stories about torture and mutilation. He was taken to a psychiatrist and diagnosed as having a personality disorder, which I guess is a nice way of saying he’s a psychopath. Court decided he’d be better under supervision. He stayed that way for 30 years. I still don’t understand why they released him.”

Kim looked at Jacob. “He’s a smart son of a bitch. I’m sure he eventually found a way to beat the system.”

Langley squinted at the screen. “He was being closely supervised by a psychiatrist at his institution, the Central New York Psychiatric Center up in Marcy. There isn’t a heck of a lot more on here. You’d better pay the good doctor a visit. I bet he’s going to have an interesting thing or two to say about this nutjob.”

Kim sighed. “Visiting psychiatrists isn’t my favorite thing anymore. Let’s hope he’s more sane than Sampson.”

Langley closed her computer program and swiveled around to face them. She looked concerned.

“You guys all right?” she asked. “Crime scene last night made my blood run cold. Couldn’t have picked a creepier place, that guy. And with the music, sword, that stupid mask…” She stopped when she saw Alex and Kim’s faces. “Sorry, guys. Not like you don’t know.”

“We’re all right,” Alex butted in. “We had each other’s backs. That’s what counts.”

Langley raised an eyebrow. “Well, try having each other’s backs on getting your paperwork in, not playing moonlight poker with sword-carrying freaks. Woodside is going to have quite the field day with you all, and I’m not sticking around to see it.”

**

Kim’s Impala slowly chugged toward the grim brick buildings set within tall chain link fences rimmed in razor wire. The officers were restless from the nearly four-hour drive upstate and eager to get down to business. Alex, who’d been denied stops at Waffle House and Dunkin’ Donuts, was pouting in the backseat.

“What good is a road trip without junk food,” he was muttering.

Kim threw him an exasperated look. “I thought you lived on caviar and champagne,” she said dryly. “Plus you already got two breakfast sandwiches this morning. I think your arteries will give up and die if you add a chocolate donut to the mix.”

Jacob looked over at her. “I am going to deduce from your breakfast comment that you spent last night at Mr. Kane’s house.” Phillips whistled from the backseat.

Kim flushed hotly. “For once you’re wrong, Newport. I picked up Kane this morning because I wanted to make sure he wasn’t still curled up in the fetal position. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Jacob still looked puzzled. “I’m fairly certain you’ve never picked me up. Or brought me breakfast sandwiches.”

“That’s because you went to the police academy and don’t need checking in on,” Kim snapped. “Though if you find you do, you know my number. Yeesh.”

They pulled into the checkpoint. Their credentials were cleared with a stern officer, and they rolled into the parking lot.

Alex looked around apprehensively as they went through security. This was his first time in a maximum security inpatient facility, or any prison in general. Just the thought that he was in a building shared by hundreds of psychiatric patients and recovering sex offenders sent chills down his spine.

“This place gives me serious heebie-jeebies,” he said. “You know those urban explorers? The ones who go into abandoned psychiatric hospitals and take photos or whatever? Never understood that kind of hobby. I prefer dinner and a movie myself.”

“And I don’t understand actors who want to play at being detectives,” said Kim.

“It’s called method acting,” Alex sniffed. “And I have three Emmys to prove it works, thank you very much.”

The officers and actor were ushered into a plain office decorated only with framed certificates. A set of windows looked onto the brown, denuded lawn. Behind a heavy wooden desk was a short, gaunt man with heavy glasses who looked up behind a pile of paperwork. He looked tired, as if he’d experienced far more in his lifetime than anyone should. Still, he generously pointed them toward plastic folding chairs and offered them coffee from a carafe. Once they were seated, he folded his hands and regarded them seriously.

“I was most intrigued when I received your call, Detective,” he began in a gravelly voice. “Oliver Fulton was one of my most fascinating and troubled patients. I treated him for the majority of his time here at Central. He eventually got out about a year ago on a technicality. I tried to overrule it, but I suspect he paid off or intimidated someone on the inside to push his case through. I worked to keep track of him once he was released, but he quickly slipped through my fingers. A very cunning man, was Mr. Fulton.”

“As I explained to you over the phone, Dr. Stewart, we are investigating him in connection to the murder of a young woman, Virginia Winters,” said Jacob. “Our field officer managed to pull some information based on his prints – mostly details from his case file about his early arrest. However, we’re still grappling with certain details of our case. We’re hoping your insight can shed some light.”

The doctor cleared his throat. “Yes, Detectives, your court order for his files just came through. Which I understand means that Mr. Fulton has passed on. Perhaps it’s not professional of me to say so, but I greeted the news with relief. He was one of my most difficult patients. His antisocial behavior and total lack of empathy and inhibition made for a very dangerous personality indeed. What’s more, these traits were deeply entrenched, and remained so despite my best efforts to treat them. Unfortunately, your case makes a lot of sense to me, Detectives. I could have almost predicted this outcome.”

Kim leaned in eagerly. “Why’s that?”

The doctor sighed heavily. “Mr. Fulton was consumed by delusions of grandeur. To feed this fantasy, he tried to wrest control from every situation he met. That was a difficult thing in a psychiatric institution. He certainly enjoyed toying with me. He was obsessed with programming and making computers submit to his demands. He also became a skilled poker player while incarcerated. By consistently beating the other patients, some of whom were almost as intelligent as he, he could maintain his ideas of superiority. He became obsessed with winning and seeing others suffer as a result. I suspected this was because he couldn’t act out his compulsion to dissect and mutilate.”

“Well, that explains the poker fetish,” Kim said. “But why kill Miss Winters? Torturing a rat is pretty different from cutting open a human being.”

“Torturing and dissecting animals was his way of exerting control when he was younger, just as he did with the poker. Sociopaths’ compulsions often escalate as they get older. They seek better ways of establishing control and satisfying their impulses. From what you told me over the phone, Detective Newport, it sounds like by not only killing and mutilating Miss Winters but forcing others to witness her passing, Fulton had established the ultimate method of control.”

“Now that is truly twisted,” commented Alex, who was helping himself to more coffee. “Can you believe I spent 24 hours with that guy? I would write a screenplay about it if I didn’t want to forget that it ever happened.”

Jacob cut in. “What’s been bothering me, Doctor, is that Fulton specifically chose a young woman both times to be his victim. That can’t be a coincidence.”

“Yes, that makes sense, too,” Dr. Stewart said wearily. “I’m not sure if you remember from his case file, but the person who reported him was his biology teacher, a young woman who had just started teaching. You must understand that his own parents were frightened of him. He’d been very careful to make sure no one would find out about his tendencies. His teacher disrupted this situation and took away that control. She didn’t come up often in our conversations, but I could sense his hatred towards her, even after so many years. I believe that she died a number of years ago in a car accident. It makes sense then that he was searching for a proxy to punish.”

Kim and Jacob nodded slowly at each other. “This is making a lot of sense, Doctor. Too much sense. I’m only sorry that Virginia Winters had to bear the brunt of his hatred.”

“Me too. Officers, please let me know if you need anything further. I’m happy to put Fulton’s file to rest.”

Chapter Twenty Three

              Captain Woodside skimmed through Oliver Fulton’s case file slowly, a frown spreading over his face. Detectives Daniels and Newport stood rigidly in front of him, waiting for the inevitable tongue-lashing. Eventually the captain threw the file on his desk and exhaled forcefully.

              “I don’t know whether I should kiss or punch you two,” he said, glaring at the detectives. “This is a hell of a plot twist.”

              “Can we have a third option, Captain?” asked Jacob. “I don’t feel comfortable with the first two”.

              “And I don’t feel comfortable with you cowboys chasing a non-suspect into the woods and nearly getting killed in the process. I won’t even mention that Kane somehow got mixed up in this. You realize that if he’d even had a hair shaved off his head I would have had you two demoted to traffic cops?”

Woodside leaned back heavily. “This whole thing is a huge mess. That said, this exciting piece of reading,” he said, pounding on the case file, “means that we are finally going to close this case for good. So as it turns out: you nabbed the bastard, Detectives. Congratulations. Now don’t ever, ever play a trick like that on me again, you hear?”

              The detectives nodded silently, trying not to look pleased. They’d finally closed a case. And despite Woodside’s bluster, they knew he was pleased. After all, he could cover up their antics and trumpet away about the results to his superiors. In the end, that was all he cared about.

              Newport and Daniels got up, ready to escape.

“Now just a moment,” Woodside said. “I had a long interview with Kane. As you can imagine, I wanted to see if the department was going to incur some sort of liability for almost getting his ass killed. Turns out that, though the man can’t act, he’s definitely fair. He praised both of your dedication to the case, unique problem-solving skills, and efforts to recover him from his, er, situation. Especially you, Daniels,” he said, shooting her a look. “Though I don’t know if his thing for redheads factors into that.”

              Kim stiffened. “I like to think my performance is based on my intellect alone, Captain,” she said curtly.

              “Of course it is. The man’s just a damn scoundrel. Anyway, since you three seem to get along so nicely and Kane’s so adamant that he’s getting mountains of material out of his little experiment, I’m putting him with you indefinitely. Have fun, kids.”

              Kim gaped at the Captain. “But, but…”

              Woodside shot her a dark look. “Congratulations on closing the case,” he said meaningfully. “Now get out of my office.”

**

              “First round, and every round, is on me!” Alex proclaimed as the officers bellied up to the bar later that day.

              Craig clapped him on the back. “Now you’re getting the hang of being a detective.”

              “I really think we should be finishing our paperwork right now,” Jacob sniffed.

Kim shook her head. “Normally I’d agree with you, Newport. But after the run we’ve had, I think it’s time to celebrate our success.”

The cantankerous barkeep brought over four mugs, and they clanged them together enthusiastically.

“To Virginia Winters,” Kim declared. “May she rest in peace.”

“To Virginia!” the crew chorused.

“So, Kane, I hear you’re staying on board,” said Phillips after taking a hearty gulp of his beer.

Alex beamed. “Sure am. And here’s something else to celebrate – I got a callback for New York Vendetta. They heard about how I helped crack your case. They’re impressed by my commitment to the role and they want to try me again.” He nudged Daniels. “If I get the part I’m going to be around here a while. For the sake of creative inspiration and all.”

Kim groaned. “Why can’t you just try out for a romantic comedy instead?”

Alex leaned closer, grinning. “Who says I’m not?”

She shot him a disgusted look and inched way. “I’m trying to enjoy myself, Kane. Don’t put me off my beer.”

The actor shrugged. He knew she’d warm up to him eventually. After all, time was on his side. The Commissioner was happy to have him on the team. The role on New York Vendetta looked like a sure thing. He wasn’t going anywhere – not until he knew Detective Daniels better, a lot better, in fact. All he needed was for her to trust him. That was a challenge he was definitely up for.

Kim was oblivious to Alex’s line of thinking and continued to ignore him. She finished her beer and excused herself, eager to be alone. Although she was happy to close the Winters case, something was still bothering her. The fact was that the case she really wanted to close was her sister’s. Until then, she’d always feel like something was missing.

She drove slowly along the quiet New York streets, reminiscing. She thought about the times she and Nancy used to bike the streets together at night, whizzing through intersections, laughing their heads off, looking for trouble. Her sister had always been the renegade, the heartbreaker, the creative one. A true original. Now she was gone. A waste for the world, or so Kim thought. She couldn’t bring her back, but at least she could bring Nancy justice and a sense of peace to her family. More than anything, she wanted that.

Kim’s phone blipped, disrupting her serious thoughts. She glared in its direction.

“Probably Kane looking for a ride home,” she muttered as she fished about in her purse.

She opened the text message, and what filled the screen set her heart racing immediately.

It was a Queen of Hearts playing card. Underneath it said: “I know what happened to Nancy.”

###