[Lady Justice 10] - Lady Justice and the Book Club Murders

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[Lady Justice 10] - Lady Justice and the Book Club Murders Page 8

by Robert Thornhill


  The crime scene was pretty much the same as the two previous murders.

  “The vic’s name is Mona Fitch,” Detective Blaylock said. “She goes by Crystal on the street.”

  The body had been posed with a book in the victim’s hands.

  Once again, I had been surprised at my partner’s knowledge of the written word.

  “Rules of Prey,” he said. “John Sanford’s first Lucas Davenport novel. It was a good one and it certainly fits the crime scene.”

  “How so?” Blaylock asked.

  “Read the back cover,” Ox said.

  Blaylock carefully picked up the blood-soaked book and read,

  “Lieutenant Lucas Davenport, highly touted killer detective, invents intricate video games that he sells for cash. Called in to aid the Minneapolis team scrambling to stop a psychopathic serial woman-slayer, Lucas almost meets his match. The self-styled "mad dog" murderer views his rape/stabbings as a game as well, setting up obstacles for the police, carefully selecting his victims, and priding himself on clever moves.”

  “Well, he certainly is sending us a message with the ‘psychopathic serial woman-slayer’,” Blaylock said.

  “Not to mention the ‘clever moves’,” Ox replied pointing to the church bulletin board.

  No one had yet noticed the word, ‘PREY’ spelled out above the victim’s body.

  The Librarian was indeed a clever killer and if Lady Justice was going to prevail, we would need to get a break --- soon!

  CHAPTER 14

  Oscar spread the newspaper on his kitchen table.

  The front-page headline screamed, “The Librarian Claims His Third Victim!”

  The story described his latest deed in gruesome detail, and ended by stating that the police had no motive for the ruthless murders and no substantial leads.

  He smiled with satisfaction.

  “No more of this page three crap,” he thought. “It’s front page or I’ll kill again.”

  Then he laughed out loud. “Hell, I’m going to kill again anyway!”

  His only regret in all of this, was that he couldn’t personally take the credit for his accomplishments.

  He had committed five perfect crimes and no one would ever know that he had masterminded the whole thing.

  The nurses at the hospital would still walk right past him as if he wasn’t there --- if they only knew --- but that could never happen.

  He would just have to celebrate his victories in anonymity.

  We had been pulled off of our special assignment to help canvass the neighborhood around the latest murder, but, of course, no one had seen or heard a thing.

  We reported our discouraging news to a very distraught Captain Short.

  “Damn! We have to come up with something. Area retailers are saying that sales are off 20%. People are afraid to go out with this madman running loose.

  “How are you doing with that book club thing?”

  “We have just one more member to interview,” Ox replied, “but if there’s nothing there, I’m afraid that’s a dead end too.”

  “Let me know how it turns out. I need some good news.”

  “Shall we pay Mr. Roach a visit?” Ox asked.

  “Let’s do it,” I replied. Then I had a thought.

  “Liz told us that when she left for school, Roach was still part of the club. What do you think the chances are that he was at that apartment on the day of the murder?”

  “How would we ever know that?” Ox asked.

  “Two ways. We can ask him when we see him, but I’d like to know the answer before I ask the question. Let’s print his photo from his DMV file and see if Dunlap’s landlady remembers seeing him on the day of the murders.”

  Ox pulled Roach’s file up on the computer. “Nerd for sure,” he said. “Looks like he drives a 1998 brown Honda Accord.”

  We printed his photo and made our third trip to Dunlap’s apartment building.

  “Sorry to bother you again, ma’am,” I said, “but would you mind looking at a photo for us?”

  “No problem,” she replied. “What’s this about?”

  “We just need to see if you recognize this man,” I said, holding up the photo.

  “Yeah, I’ve seen him a couple of times. I think that he was part of that book club thing.”

  “Think back to the day we found the men’s bodies upstairs,” Ox said. “Do you remember seeing him anytime that day?”

  “Gee, I don’t know ---”

  “Please try to think,” I said. “It’s really important.”

  “No, I don’t think so ---”

  “Well thank you for your time,” Ox said. “Sorry to disturb you.”

  We were walking down the sidewalk when she called to us.

  “Wait! Hold on. I think I remember something. What kind of car does that guy drive?”

  “A 1998 brown Honda Accord. Why?”

  “I had gone to the grocery store and when I came home that brown piece of shit was in my parking spot --- had to park two blocks up the street and carry my groceries to boot. I was really pissed. An hour or so later I checked and it was gone. That’s when I moved my car back.”

  “Did you ever see the driver?” I asked hopefully.

  “Nope, just the damn car. Really pissed me off!”

  “So what do you think?” I asked as we settled in our cruiser.

  “I think Oscar Roach was in that apartment the day of the murders and the little shit better not lie to us.”

  We drove to Oscar Roach’s apartment but no one was home, so we headed to St. Luke’s Hospital.

  Oscar had just finished changing the bedding in a patient’s room and was depositing the soiled linens in the laundry cart when he saw two police officers at the reception desk.

  After a brief conversation, the nurse pointed in his direction and the cops headed his way.

  He had wondered if this day would ever come

  Actually, he had been expecting it. “Surely,” he had thought, “the cops would eventually question the other members of the book club.” But time had passed since the double murder and he had assumed they had closed the case. Maybe not.

  The two cops were an odd pair.

  The big one looked every bit the part of a typical cop, but his partner was an old guy who looked like he ought to be playing croquet on the lawn of a retirement home.

  The big one spoke first, “Oscar Roach?”

  Oscar nodded.

  “I’m Officer Wilson and this is my partner, Officer Williams. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Sure,” Oscar replied. “Is this about Ed and Larry?” He figured that he might as well take them by surprise instead of the other way around.

  “Uhhhh, yes, as a matter of fact, it is,” the big one said. “I understand that the three of you were the last remaining members of your book club.”

  “Unfortunately, yes. All of the others either moved away or moved on --- and well --- now, of course, there is no club.”

  The old guy chimed in, “Was there a meeting scheduled the day of their deaths?”

  “Yes there was. I was there when it started, but I had to leave early because I had pulled an evening shift here at the hospital.” He figured that he’d better not lie about being there. He could have been seen by anyone --- another tenant in the building or the landlady.

  “So very likely you were the last person to see Weems and Dunlap alive,” the old cop said. “When you learned of their deaths, why didn’t you come forward?”

  “I saw no reason to come forward,” Oscar replied. “I read the account of their deaths in the paper and I really didn’t have anything to add. They were both alive when I left and I swear I had no idea what was going to happen. I was as surprised and shocked as anyone. Just curious. How did you know that I was a member of the club?”

  “We got a list of all of the club members from your former secretary,” the big one said. “We’ve talked to all of them --- it’s just routine procedure.”


  “You talked to Liz? Is she back in town?”

  “Just for the holiday. She’ll be going back to school soon.”

  “Great. I need to give her a call and catch up.”

  The old guy turned to his partner, “If you don’t have any more questions of Mr. Roach, we’d better let him get back to work.”

  “I think I’m good,” the big one said, and they turned to walk away.

  Oscar breathed a sigh of relief. That went even better than he had hoped.

  The officers had only gone a few steps when the big one turned back.

  “Just curious, you were a member of the book club. I’m an avid reader myself. What kind of books do you read?”

  “Mysteries mostly,” he replied. “Some of the girls were into the romance stuff, but I just couldn’t get into it.”

  “Secrets of Eden,” the big one said. “Did you ever read Secrets of Eden? I think that it was written by Chris Bohjalian.”

  Oscar was definitely not prepared for that one.

  “Uhhhh, let me think. No, I didn’t get to read that one. Larry was reading it and I was supposed to get it next. That’s probably why it was lying by Larry’s body.”

  “Okay,” the big one said. “Thanks for your help.”

  The officers left and Oscar breathed another sigh of relief.

  It was obvious that they had nothing on him. Like the big one said, “Just routine procedure.”

  When we were in the cruiser, I asked, “So what did you think? He seemed to have an answer for everything and he didn’t try to lie about being in the apartment.”

  “Pretty cool character all right --- but he made one big mistake.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Secrets of Eden. That information was never released to the press. How did he know that the book was lying beside Dunlap’s body unless he was there?”

  “Hot Damn! Maybe we’ve got us a suspect!”

  CHAPTER 15

  Captain Short and Detective Blaylock were elated when we reported our visit with Oscar Roach. It was the first glimmer of hope we had so far.

  “Let me make sure I understand what you’re telling me,” the Captain said. “This Roach character was a member of the book club and admitted being in the apartment the day of the two deaths, but said that when he left early, they were alive?”

  Ox nodded.

  “And somehow, he knew about the novel that was left with the bodies even though that information had never been released to the public?”

  Ox nodded again.

  “Is that all you’ve got?”

  “So far,” Ox replied. “His fingerprints were on file in the hospital database, so we ran them through our system and came up empty, and, of course, there have been no prints left at any of the crime scenes, so we have nothing there to connect him to the murders.

  The Captain shook his head, “It’s a lead, but it’s not enough to bring him in. I want you to turn this guy inside out and upside down. Talk to his landlady, his supervisor at work, the old girlfriend --- anyone connected to the guy. We need at least one other solid lead before we run this guy through the ringer.”

  We spent the rest of the day interviewing everyone we could think of, but came up empty.

  The consensus was that Roach was a quiet loner, but not a troublemaker. His work at the hospital, while not exceptional, was acceptable.

  Liz, who had dated the guy a few times, told us that he was socially awkward and as far as she knew, his experience with the fairer sex was quite limited.

  In short, the guy was a Boy Scout --- a really boring one.

  We reported what we had found to the Captain and called it a day.

  Willie was just leaving the building when I arrived at the apartment.

  “Where are headed?” I asked.

  “Me an’ Louie the Lip and some of de other guys is goin’ to hang around wif Maxine dis evening’. Dat Librarian fool has moved to killin’ de ladies. Crystal, de gal he cut by de church was one o’ Maxine’s friends. We gonna keep an eye on ‘em tonight.”

  Maxine was one of Willie’s hooker friends from his days on the street. She is really a sweet gal --- the proverbial hooker with the ‘heart of gold’. She had actually shared that disastrous Thanksgiving dinner with us two years ago.

  One of the things that being in the department has done for me, is that I have learned to judge people for who they are and not what they do.

  The same thing could be said for Louie the Lip. If Lisa Rinna and Mick Jagger had a kid together, it would be Louie. He is a street hustler, but through his past connections with Willie, he has become my unofficial confidential informant. His advice had helped us in several investigations.

  “You guys be careful out there,” I said. “The guy is obviously a psychopathic killer. Don’t take any unnecessary chances.”

  “Don’ you worry Mr. Walt. We be careful. It’s dat guy you need to be worryin’ about if he comes messin’ wif us!”

  I guess this was the underworld’s version of the neighborhood watch.

  Oscar Roach was buoyed by his brief flirtation with the police.

  They were chasing dead leads and obviously had nothing to connect him to any of the murders. If they had a shred of evidence, they would have brought him in for questioning.

  He had already begun to visualize his next kill. It would be his most elaborate adventure, but it would require extra planning and more equipment, but he was up to the challenge.

  Having assembled everything that he would need, Oscar steered his old Honda back to the Northeast area of town.

  He figured that since his last kill came from this area, the police would increase their presence, so he cruised the streets several times looking for squad cars parked in alleys or dark parking lots.

  Seeing none, he began his search for his next victim.

  As before, the streetwalkers were in pairs under the streetlights. He would be patient --- he needed a woman alone.

  On his third pass, he saw a lone woman by the curb.

  He slowed down and gave the woman a long look. When she saw him ogling, she gave her head a small nod. He pulled to the curb and rolled down the window.

  “Lookin’ for a date?” she asked.

  “Could be. Depends on the price.”

  “Cost you a hundred,” she said.

  Apparently that was the going price on the street.

  He was about to start bargaining with her when two figures stepped from the shadows of the building behind her.

  One was an old black guy and the other was an ugly dude whose bottom lip hung down almost past his chin.

  “Uhhh, thanks anyway,” he said, rolling up the window. “I think I’ll pass.”

  “Probably her pimp,” he muttered as he pulled out into the street.

  He cruised Independence Avenue once more before turning south on Prospect.

  He was about to abandon his plans for the evening when he saw a gal come out of one of the storefront dives.

  She looked the part, so he pulled up beside her and rolled down the window.

  “Know where a guy can find some action around here?”

  She looked him over and then looked at her watch. “I was just heading home --- calling it a night.”

  “Got a hundred bucks in my pocket.”

  She looked at her watch again, “Oh, what the hell. It’s been slow this evening with all of the crap that’s happened lately. Why not?”

  She climbed into the car and directed him to a deserted alley.

  He gave her the money, and just as before, when she leaned down to his crotch, he slammed the hammer into the back of her head.

  “This is way too easy,” he thought. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

  With the girl’s head still resting in his lap, he turned the car north to Highway 24 and headed east to Sugar Creek.

  He turned north on Ash Street, just as he had done earlier that day, and followed the road through the old abandoned Amoco refinery until
it dead-ended in a field just south of the Missouri River.

  The staging of this kill required isolation and he had found the perfect spot.

  He climbed out of the car and dragged the body to the lone signpost.

  He carefully leaned the body against the post before plunging the knife into the woman’s chest.

  When she was still, he took the can of Zippo lighter fluid that he had purchased at a sporting goods store and soaked the woman’s clothing.

  He struck a match and touched it to the clothing, which burst into flames, lighting up the dark field.

  He only allowed himself a moment to drink in the spectacle before him. Someone might see the fire and come to investigate.

  He scoured the area to make sure that he had left nothing that could tie him to the scene.

  When he was satisfied, he placed his gunnysack into the trunk and placed the novel by the body, but far enough away to escape the flames.

  His last recollection as he retraced his path along the deserted road was the sound of the woman’s searing flesh.

  This would be a crime scene that would not soon be forgotten.

  I was just leaving for work when Willie came strolling up the sidewalk.

  Apparently he had spent the night --- and I really didn’t want to know where.

  “Monin’ Mr. Walt.”

  “Hi Willie. Any action last night?”

  “Nope. Real quiet. Guess de johns was skeered to come out wif dat crazy guy runnin’ around. Maxine only had one guy stop by, but when he seen Louie and me, he took off.”

  “Well, I guess no news is good news. See you later.”

  “Yeah, later, Mr. Walt.”

  Then I had a thought.

  “Willie, that car that stopped by. It wasn’t by any chance a 1998 brown Honda Accord was it?”

  I saw the surprised look on Willie’s face. “How’d you know dat?”

  “Willie,” I said, “you may have saved Maxine’s life!”

 

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