The Blade Man

by Debra Purdy Kong

  “I have it,” Stan said. “Cops found it under Benny’s seat when they were searching through the bus. I found it in my desk drawer, so I guess they gave it to Gwyn.”

  “Geez, it would have been nice if he’d told me,” she replied. “I still think we need to take a closer look at the brothers.”

  “Yeah. Damn.” Stan let out a long puff of air. “I’ll talk to the cops, but without proof I’m not giving them any names, and you should let Lou know that he’ll be coming back to chaos again.”

  “Right. He told me that Wesley was attacked tonight. Did you know?”

  “Yeah, but since he’s okay, I didn’t want to bother you on your night off.”

  “I appreciate that, but this siege is relentless, Stan. It has to stop.”

  “Agreed. The firebug and Charlie Applebee will be caught soon, don’t worry.” Stan paused. “Stay strong, kiddo. You’re needed.”

  So it seemed. She held Summer a little bit tighter.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Dressed in blue jeans and a light gray jacket, Casey strolled along the northern perimeter of Coquitlam Park ’n Ride. She kept her distance from people waiting at the long rectangular loop of bus bays. She didn’t mind the contrast to yesterday’s warm sunny weather. Her umbrella would shield her face, should Charlie Applebee show up and notice her. His appearance was a long shot, but she had to try, not just because of Yvette’s plea but because social media had taken to warning people about MPT’s “safety issues.”

  Stan had forwarded an email from Gwyn this morning, containing stats that showed a sharp drop in ridership over the past month. Gwyn apparently expected the team to step up and help find the Blade Man or he’d be forced to reevaluate the entire security team’s future. So, here she was hanging out at the frigging park ’n ride at noon on a soggy Sunday. None of the dozen people waiting for a bus were dressed completely in black. One teenage girl’s height and shoulder-length hair reminded Casey of Summer.

  Poor Summer. She’d looked exhausted this morning and wanted to know exactly when Rhonda’s surgery would take place. Casey promised to help her find answers when she returned from this mission. She doubted they’d be successful.

  A man dressed in black emerged from the SkyTrain exit near the far end of the park ’n ride. Casey removed the binoculars from her bag as a TransLink bus pulled in. The man hastened toward the bus. A look through the binoculars showed that his jacket was actually navy blue and that dark blond hair poked out from under his hooded jacket. Not Charlie Applebee.

  Casey scanned the area. The Coquitlam Center Mall was right across the street on the north side of Lougheed Highway. The old guy she’d met yesterday said that Charlie hung out there on rainy days. Might as well check it out to appease the boss.

  At the intersection, Casey crossed the busy, multi-lane thoroughfare and walked through the mall’s rapidly filling parking lot. Rainy days always attracted shoppers. Entering the complex, she tried to determine where someone like Charlie would hang out without attracting too much attention. A food court perhaps?

  Noting every male face who wore a dark jacket or hoodie, Casey made her way down a fairly short corridor, then turned right. She despised crowded malls. The bright lights, chatter, and canned music had triggered migraines in the past. She wouldn’t stay long. Signs pointed to the food court upstairs. As Casey rode the escalator, her phone rang. Summer.

  “Hi, I’m at a mall in Coquitlam,” Casey said, adopting her most cheerful voice. “Need anything?”

  “I called the hospitals to see if she’s scheduled for the surgery, but they wouldn’t tell me anything, and I’m family! How unfair is that?”

  “I understand, honey, but to them you’re a stranger asking about a prison inmate. I’ll try and learn more when I’m done here. Right now, I’m searching for the suspect in the knife attacks. Rumor is he hangs out here.”

  “The Blade Man?”

  Casey sighed. “That’s the one.”

  “He’s a dangerous freak. Be careful.”

  “I will, and I’ll call as soon as I can.”

  Casey stepped off the escalator and headed north to where four corridors converged into one large open area with seating around TV screens. Groups of people, mostly elderly men, were gathered in front of the TVs showing news and a baseball game. Grandmothers were also seated, along with moms and babies. It was a place where Charlie could observe people without anyone paying much notice.

  While she studied all of the male passersby who appeared to be alone, Casey tried to block out snippets of conversations and whining kids. She ambled past store windows, pausing now and then to glimpse the displays.

  By the time she completed a full circle of the open area, she’d identified three men in black. One of them made the back of her neck tingle. In his late thirties, she noted the stubble and dark bruise on his cheek, possibly put there by Wesley’s boot. Casey’s gut told her this was the guy, and her adrenalin surged. Charlie Applebee wasn’t watching TV but focusing on the shoppers. Casey could almost feel his anxiety as he stared at a girl in bright green tights and a green-and-black plaid skirt. She looked all of ten years old.

  Would he actually go after a child? Was he carrying the knife now? Even in this crowd, the child was vulnerable. Casey started toward the girl, but a group of teens cut in front of her. Swearing silently, she dodged them, then watched the girl and the adult accompanying her—probably her mother—enter a store.

  Charlie stood, then looked over his shoulder and surveyed the crowd. Casey pretended to browse a jewelry case embedded in the wall next to the store’s entrance. What next? If she called mall security and they approached Charlie, he’d probably go nuts and lash out at anyone within reach. As long as he stayed calm, the chance of disaster lessened. An RCMP presence could also make things unravel fast. Wouldn’t it be safer for everyone if she called after he left the mall?

  Casey inhaled sharply as a security guard wandered toward the open area, seemingly oblivious to Charlie’s presence. Charlie, however, noticed him. While Charlie stood still, Casey stopped breathing altogether. The guard turned down the north corridor and ambled away from him. Charlie’s body relaxed. He turned around in time to see the mother and daughter emerge from the store and head toward the mall’s exit.

  Charlie started after them. Her heart racing, Casey began to maneuver her way among the shoppers, determined not to lose sight of him.

  Charlie barged outside, keeping his pace brisk as if he had purpose. The falling rain gave Casey an excuse to raise her umbrella. Mother and daughter hurried through the parking lot. Charlie looked over his shoulder, prompting Casey to lower her head. Raising the umbrella again, she saw the mother unlock a blue SUV. Charlie edged closer and Casey moved faster, prepared to beat him with the damn umbrella if necessary. The mother opened the SUV’s passenger door. The girl scrambled inside while her mom jogged to the driver’s side. The engine started.

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, Charlie marched past the parked vehicles and headed away from the mall toward High Street. Although rain had begun to pound the asphalt, Casey decided to keep following him. If he was heading home, maybe she could give the police an address. Again, she thought about calling them now, but if they came charging in too soon, they risked losing Charlie again. He’d proven himself an expert at vanishing on his own turf.

  Charlie turned off High Street and made a right onto Glen Drive, the exact spot where she and Wesley had been trapped during the riot three weeks ago. The busted store windows had been replaced and everything looked normal again. But when Charlie was around, things were far from normal.

  On the yellow light, Charlie jogged across the road to the north side of Glen. Casey stayed half a block behind him. A lull in traffic allowed her to dart across Glen and jog down the sidewalk until she reached the short, narrow road Charlie had taken. There was no sign of him. She rushed down the road to an open area adjacent to a building on her left, identified as Glen Pine Pavilion. To the right was a pa
rking lot and the busier Pinetree Way. She stood there a moment, scanning the area. Where had he gone?

  She hurried to Pinetree and spotted Charlie at the Pinetree and Guildford Avenue intersection. Casey was still half a block away when the light changed and Charlie crossed the road, heading east. Casey again began to jog, but by the time she got there the light was red. Head down, Charlie kept walking.

  Waiting for the light to change, she glanced at people coming and going from the aquatic center on the northwest corner. More poured out of the SkyTrain exit on the northeast corner. From here, she saw where Benny’s bus had been stopped that terrible night. The area was more lively and active in daylight. Despite the rain, plenty of pedestrians were around.

  Charlie slowed his pace, turned, and looked at traffic. Without hesitating, he darted across the street toward Town Center Park. Finally, the light changed. While Casey was crossing the road, Charlie disappeared behind the Evergreen Cultural Center. By the time she reached the trail he’d taken, there was no sign of him.

  Trees and bushes kept her from seeing a clear view of anyone. She scanned the area repeatedly until she spotted Charlie threading his way among the trees and still heading east. Casey kept to the sidewalk, maintaining her distance while she followed.

  Farther down the block, two women, each pushing a stroller, emerged from a trail. Charlie appeared behind them, far enough back to not attract their attention. Neither woman wore green, thank heaven.

  Casey found herself in a residential area with three-story condos facing the park. The women crossed Guildford and went south down Pipeline Road. Charlie also crossed, but rather than tail the women, he crossed Pipeline and continued east.

  Guildford had now become Ozada Avenue, a narrower, two-lane road with far less traffic. Charlie glanced over his shoulder and picked up the pace. Did he realize he was being followed or was it paranoia? Casey stayed on the north side of Ozada. Charlie could have spotted her easily, but he seemed intent on getting somewhere pretty quick.

  Charlie turned right onto Grosvenor Drive. Dashing across Ozada, Casey trailed after him past older one- and two-story detached homes. About six houses down, Charlie crossed the road and hurried down the driveway of a home with pale yellow paint. The yard had been mowed, but the lack of plants and fencing made the place appear barren, as if the homeowner had no real interest in the property. An old Camry was parked in front of the detached, single-car garage.

  By the time Casey strolled past the house, Charlie had disappeared. She slowed her pace, observing two narrow, horizontal windows just above ground level at the front and a short stairwell and door off the driveway.

  Well, damn. If Charlie lived in the basement suite, it explained how he’d eluded the cops. No one would be aware of his comings and goings, except possibly the people living upstairs. So, who lived above him? Casey was about to call 9-1-1 when a woman stepped out from behind stacks of boxes in the garage.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  The forties-something woman was carrying one of the boxes out of the garage. She spotted Casey, smiled tentatively, and continued toward her at a leisurely pace.

  “Hello,” Casey said as quietly as possible. Approaching the woman, she displayed her ID, praying that Charlie wouldn’t open his door. “My name’s Casey Holland. I’m a security officer with Mainland Public Transport.”

  The woman’s brows scrunched, her confusion obvious. “What can I do for you?”

  “This’ll sound weird, but may I ask if you own this house?”

  “I rent the top floor. Why?”

  “Who rents the basement suite?”

  “Charlie Applebee.” Her confusion turned to wariness. “Is something wrong?”

  “I think so.” Casey glanced at the door, half expecting him to burst out, knife in hand. “Who owns the house?”

  “Charlie’s mother.” She paused. “I’m Janet, by the way.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Casey kept her gaze on the basement door. “Where does Charlie’s mother live?”

  “In Chilliwack, but since it’s over an hour away she never visits. The lady remarried after Charlie’s father died a while back. She bought this place a few months ago so Charlie wouldn’t have to stay on the streets. He has no income, so she rents the top floor to help with the mortgage, I guess.”

  “Then her last name isn’t Applebee anymore?”

  “It’s Slater.”

  That could explain why the cops hadn’t been able to locate Charlie.

  Casey stepped closer and murmured, “We have good reason to believe that Charlie’s behind several stabbing incidents in the area. Two of the victims are my coworkers. The RCMP’s been looking for him and I need to call them, but first I want to get you safely out of the way.”

  Janet gasped. “Good lord. Charlie has mental health issues, but to try and kill someone? I can’t believe this.”

  “So, he’s never given you any trouble?”

  “I’ve only been here four months.” She shrugged. “My brother’s bipolar, so I have a lot of sympathy for people like Charlie. Besides, the rent’s cheap.”

  “Have you noticed any changes in his mood or behavior?”

  She bit her lower lip. “Lately, he seems more agitated than usual. I’ve heard him talking to himself, yelling actually. He could be having trouble with his medication, or stopped taking it altogether.”

  “Have you seen him coming and going at night?”

  “No, I’m a nurse and I’ve been working nights.”

  “I should call 9-1-1 now,” Casey said. “It’d be safer if we left the property before the cops show up.”

  “I’ll get my keys.”

  As she hurried upstairs, Casey stepped into the garage to make the call. No way did she want Charlie overhearing this. Casey was still on the line when Janet returned. Casey was following her to the Camry when a loud crash from inside the basement suite startled her.

  The door flung open and Charlie stood there, brandishing a knife with a six-inch blade. The fire in his eyes frightened Casey.

  “I seen you watching me!” he shouted at her. “Get outta here!”

  “Oh god,” Casey said to the 9-1-1 dispatcher. “He’s spotted us.”

  “Leave the premises right now,” the dispatcher said.

  “Charlie, just calm down.” Janet opened the car door. “Nobody wants to hurt you.”

  “Liar!”

  Janet slid behind the wheel and shut the door. As she leaned over and unlocked the passenger door, Charlie raised the knife. “No one’s gonna get me!”

  Casey flung herself inside just as Janet began peeling backward down the driveway. Charlie ran after them.

  Casey looked over her shoulder. “Watch out!”

  Janet slammed the brakes, barely avoiding a boy racing along on his bicycle. Charlie leapt onto the hood, his face twisting with rage.

  “No!” Janet hit the gas again.

  Charlie tried to keep a grip as Janet backed the car onto the road.

  “I’ll kill you!” he screamed.

  Janet stopped in the middle of the road and tried to shift out of reverse, but her hand was shaking too much. Charlie stabbed the windshield. Spittle ran down his chin and his bloodshot eyes bulged. Casey’s entire body clenched. Part of her wanted to jump out and flee, but outrunning Charlie wouldn’t work. His adrenalin would give him superhuman speed.

  Charlie sat on his butt and kicked the windshield. Janet gaped at him and didn’t move. Casey reached over and blasted the horn, but this stopped Charlie for only a moment before he resumed kicking.

  “He’s going to break it,” Janet whimpered.

  “Back the car up!” Casey yelled, but Janet remained frozen in place. “Come on! It might throw him off.”

  A couple of pedestrians stood gawking farther down the sidewalk. One of them was on the phone. One block ahead, an RCMP cruiser turned onto the road. In the side mirror, Casey saw another cruiser approaching from behind. At that moment, Janet chose to hit the gas. Still in
reverse, the car lurched backward.

  “Janet, stop! The cops are here!” She clamped her hand on Janet’s arm, but she kept going. “You’re gonna crash into the cops!”

  Janet slammed the brakes. The jolt caused Charlie to lose his grip and roll off the hood. He sprang up. Still clutching the knife, he pounded on Janet’s side window with one hand and tried to stab it with the other. She screamed.

  “Drop your weapon!” a constable shouted. “On the ground! Now!”

  Charlie kept attacking the glass, his face a mottled crimson beneath the heavy stubble. A third police cruiser arrived. Within seconds, the cops were surrounding him, their weapons drawn, yet Charlie seemed oblivious.

  “Put the weapon down now!” the officer shouted again.

  Casey hoped to hell that Charlie didn’t notice the residents gathering on their lawns. One of the constables edged closer, catching Charlie’s attention.

  “Get down on the ground!” the constable yelled.

  Charlie raised the knife and was about ready to lunge for the cop when he was tasered. It didn’t faze him. Charlie cursed and slashed the air. A second taser blast jolted him backward. The knife fell from his hand and he recoiled, collapsing on the ground. Charlie tried to get to his knees, but the cops were on him. Casey held her breath as Charlie continued to put up a fight until he was eventually restrained. It took four cops and many long, tense seconds to control the Blade Man.

  While Janet wept, Casey reached over and turned off the ignition. She closed her eyes in relief.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  “Excellent work, kiddo.” Stan leaned his elbows on the desk. “You went above and beyond to find Applebee, though I totally get why the RCMP gave you hell for following him in the first place.”

  Casey huffed and crossed her arms. “If I hadn’t, he’d still be out there stabbing people.”

  “True.” Stan gave her a long look. “But did you have to put yourself in that much danger?”

  “Didn’t think I was. Charlie was inside while I was practically whispering to the upstairs tenant in the driveway. I had to warn her what could happen once I called the cops.”