“There is no record of a marriage between Matthew Raymond and Carol Wentworth.”
“My, mother. Shit!” He typed another frantic D-Search.
Matthew threw his hands in the air and grimaced in pain.
Peterson looked at Debra. “Now what?”
Mr. Hammer shuffled from his office. He carried a brown envelope and headed straight to Matthew. “Matthew Raymond Junior! Get a hold of yourself, boy. I have an important announcement.”
Dr. Franklin clicked his tongue. “On that note, I think I’ll leave.” He grinned with utter enjoyment. “I’ll pick you up at eight.” He gave his intended a light kiss on the lips, winked and took his leave.
The group focused their attention on the old southern gentleman.
“Thank you. The past several years has been difficult. We had eight of you and dwindled to two. We were lucky that Debra was sent our way. Snead is retired at the beach and today is my last day. My retirement is official. Now, no fretting.” He handed Matthew the envelope.
“What’s this?”
“Somebody’s got to run this here show and seeing I got no son here on this earth, you are the closest thing I got. Hammer and Snead is yours.”
Matthew, speechless nodded.
Debra forced a congratulatory smile.
Peterson shook his head in disgust and forced himself to speak. “Congrats. You’re our boss.”
“Yep, our boss.” Debra’s tone bled with sarcasm. “Where do we go from here?”
“Do I really need to tell you to keep searching for Livia and Blaze?” Matthew stormed from the office.
Peterson rolled his eyes. “Where are you going?”
“To find Blaze Angela’s killer!”
chapter 53
Apartment 116
Morty and Judas exited from an apartment at the opposite end of the hall from Apartment 116. Judas frowned and exhaled. “I need a bigger one than this efficiency. At least a one bedroom and space for an office too.”
“A two bedroom one floor up is available.”
“What about the apartment at the end of the hall? It looks vacant and getting refurbished.”
“That one is privately owned by a friend.” Morty’s tone reeked of hatred.
“Do you have two, one bedroom units adjacent to each other I could purchase on this floor? I recently lost my home and I need a place to live.”
“If you have the money, I can accommodate your need. That’s if you want to rent. The owner of the building is selective on who can purchase any unit. If you pay six months cash up front, I’ll get a construction team up here and open the living room walls and make it a two bedroom. Use one kitchen for your cooking and I’ll renovate the other into a bar.”
“I like the way you think. Let me think about it for a minute.”
Meow Mix and Tiger Lily strolled passed and stopped at the door of Apartment 116. Judas watched the cats intrigued. “Looks like someone is missing their owners. Who do they belong too?”
“I have no idea, but you can have them.”
A smug expression crept over Judas’ face. Enough said.
“Dr. Greenberg, do you want those apartments or not?”
“I’ll take them under three conditions. First, you make my lease out in a fictional name I choose. I don’t want anyone to find me. I don’t want another bombing. Secondly, I need the walls to be sound proof. I get disturbed easily when I am working. So, I need peace and quiet. The last thing, in the bedroom you convert for my office, I don’t want any windows and I need at least thirty wall outlets on the North wall. When I invent things, I use lots of monitors to compare the designs. Do we have a deal?”
chapter 54
This is Not a Drill
Chaos prevailed in the bullpen at the FBI headquarters. The television, mounted on the back wall, broadcasted KWNC as George Newland delivered the morning news. A loud emergency alert signal broadcasted. “This is an emergency alert from KWNC. We interrupt your normal news programming for this emergency alert broadcast. This is not a drill.”
Agent Mansfield turned from the criminal map board. “Everyone quiet! We need to listen.”
Everyone’s attention focused onto the screen that turned black to snow. “Emergency Alert,” in bright red, flashed three times followed by a monotone robotic voice announcement. “I repeat. This is not a drill.”
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The screen faded to news anchor George Newland. “We have all heard those doomsday messages that the world is coming to an end. This morning, scheduled broadcasts were interrupted by an ominous prediction that life, as we know it, would come to an end this Saturday. As quick as the message came, it left as the normal broadcast continued. Samantha Breland is standing live at New Orleans City Hall where Mayor Erin Feinstein, Governor Tina Peril and Congressman Tom Thompson will jointly address public safety concerns. Samantha is this a hoax or is there a real threat to humanity?”
“Well, George, we have all seen and heard those early warning systems throughout our city during hurricane season. However, it is what happened after this morning’s warning that has everyone concerned and living in a state of fear. Within five minutes, the home of Dr. Judas Greenberg, a Nobel Prize winner for his research in sonic communication and former head researcher of Dimension Global, exploded. He wasn’t home at the time of the explosion and no injuries or fatalities have been reported. However, witnesses report that a man was thrown from the explosion; but as soon as he gained consciousness, sprinted from the scene. This man is now part of a manhunt and stands to be charged with a terrorism act once apprehended.”
“Samantha, have first responders determined the cause of the explosion or who is responsible for the ominous warning?”
“Homeland Security officials speculate the event was a terrorist activity that targeted Dr. Greenberg because of his development of the weapon of mass destruction used in the Third Global War. This weapon wiped out Syria, Iran, parts of Russia and North Korea. The United States maintained their superior dominance on global terms. There has been no terrorist group coming forward to claim responsibility.”
“So, they don’t believe this is a hoax?”
“Not at this time. Terrorists hijacked our broadcast system and used what was once considered as a hacker hoax, now has strong implications for American citizens as today is election day. Homeland Security has advised that there is a credible risk for another attack and issued a Code Red throughout the United States and adopted territories under their protection. Homeland Security has deployed emergency response teams and special trained teams for counter terrorism not only throughout New Orleans but also in major cities across America including New York, Washington, Dallas, Los Angeles and port and military base cities. It is advised that the public remain vigilant, alert and report any suspected person, group or activity.”
“So, Samantha, they consider another terrorist threat a real possibility?”
“Yes, George, they do. Not only our Government officials, from the President of the United States, down to state and local elected representatives, but also, for once, the conspiracy theorists. Everyone agrees the threat is real. Doomsayers have gone live on their D-Casts and reported that on Saturday, planet Axel, is on a projected path to crash into the earth causing an apocalypse event. We’ve heard these predictions before. Over several hundreds of years, Nostradamus predicted the end of the world would occur in twenty eighteen. At the time, doomsayers believed Planet X would crash into earth. The same prediction, in nineteen ten, that authenticated Haley’s comet would crash into us. Ever heard of Nostradamus? None of this came to fruition. George, this threat is unlike the others. Man manufactured it. The level of risk is real. Furthermore, the cause of the Greenberg explosion cannot be traced to a chemical agent or to any triggering device. No one knows what caused the explosion.”
“What is the atmosphere at City Hall?”
“Beside the ongoing fire at the Greenberg residence and the billowing smoke clouds eng
ulfing our city, the citizens are in a heightened frenzy. George here comes Congressman Tom Thompson.” Samantha pushed her way to the front and stuck her microphone in front of him. “Congressman Thompson. How will today’s events affect your bid for your congressional seat?”
“Our national elections will go on as planned. We will not run. We will not hide. We will not succumb to terrorists. Most importantly, it is imperative as a free America we continue our daily routines. We cannot let terrorists put fear in our hearts and live afraid. I invite everyone to my victory party tonight at the Riverfront Convention Center. We must demonstrate our American pride and our American resolve.”
George ended the news bulletin issuing a warning. “Please be advised, this is not a drill. If you have the ability to provide extra security in your home, churches and businesses, then by all means do so.”
Agent Mansfield clapped three times. “Let’s get back to work, we have a serial killer to catch before the world ends. You heard the Congressman. Continue our daily routine.”
Agent Curenton burst into the bullpen. “They found another victim of the Surgical serial killer.”
***
By the time Agents Mansfield and Locklear arrived at the autopsy room, Dr. Franklin and Robby were already examining the victim’s mouth. Robby popped his jaw. “His precision of removing the tongue is impeccable.”
Dr. Franklin smirked. “Whoever did this to her is a brilliant gifted surgeon with steady hands. There are no signs of hesitation. The surgery is magnificent.”
Agent Mansfield frowned. “Dr. Franklin, it sounds like you admire this creep.”
“I wouldn’t call him a creep. He’s a genius. I’m damn good at what I do, but his surgical precision is more than textbook. By what I’m seeing, he wrote the textbook on this technique of surgical removal of the tongue. I must confess, I admire his handy work.”
Robby nodded in agreement. “Dr. Franklin has a point. His surgical precision is unmatched and he’s meticulous not to leave any trace of his own DNA.”
Agent Mansfield leaned toward the victim’s fingers. “Have either of you identified how he burns off the victim’s fingerprints? That method could provide us a link to the killer.”
Robby shivered and rubbed his fingers together. “Not at this time. Do you three think I can get on with the autopsy in private? I’ll get the results to you as soon as I can.”
Agent Locklear couldn’t keep things as they were. “Dr. Franklin are you attending the Congressman’s victory party tonight or do you plan on taking out your boat?” She observed the doctor’s microfacial expressions and body language.
“I recently sold my boat, the Open Wide. I never can find the time to go see her in Orange Beach.”
Agent Locklear rubbed her chin. He’s telling the truth.
Robby laughed at the boat’s name. “Clever. I named my boat The Caretaker. I’ll take you out on her someday Dr. Franklin.”
“That would be divine. Do you have a galley? I’d prepare you a fabulous one of a kind meal.”
Agent Locklear cleared her throat. “About tonight, Dr. Franklin. Will we see you at the victory party?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Not even for a dead girl.”
***
Matthew rang the doorbell and tapped his foot as he waited for his father to open the door. “Son, this is very unexpected.”
Matthew pushed passed him and bolted into the living room. He frantically glanced around stopping on the portrait of him and his father. “Where is she?”
“Where is who?”
“My mother, Carol Natasha Wentworth Raymond.”
“I told you this. I adopted you after you were left for dead in one of my homicide cases thirty years ago.”
“That’s a lie. Why make up such a fabrication?” Matthew turned around, grabbed his father by his shirt collar, heaved him against the wall and held him there. “You’re a liar.”
“Let go of me, Son.”
Matthew shoved him one more time. “You are one lying drunken son of a bitch. You’re involved; and I intend to prove it.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. I suggest you leave and never come back.”
chapter 55
We Will Not Succumb to Terrorists
Congressman Thompson and Janice were in high spirits as they dressed for their campaign victory party and drank Dom Perignon champagne. Tom pulled up his white starched and pressed boxer shorts. His tuxedo, shirt and his red, white and blue cummerbund laid on the bed.
Janice wore a royal blue Talbot Runhof draped gown. The refined evening wear, detailed by a mermaid silhouette, pooled around her. “You’re still leading in the polls.” She put on her sapphire and diamond earrings. “After what you announced at city hall, people flocked to vote for you.”
“That was my plan.” He slipped on his pants.
He zipped his pants as Meagan looking like a Hollywood starlet in red bolted into the bedroom. “Your leading by forty-eight percent with seventy percent of the votes tabulated.”
Janice darted her eyes toward Meagan. “Must you enter when we’re dressing. He might not care, but I do.”
“It’s all right Meagan. Remember, you work for me. Keep doing exactly what I say. Go keep your eyes on the polls.”
Meagan left as Janice glared at her husband in disgust. “Let’s toast to our victory and our race to the White House.” She lifted her champagne flute.
***
In front of the River Front Convention Center, a crowd gathered to cheer their elected congressional member as dozens of news crews scrambled to cover it.
Suicide, Halo, Fiona and several other war hero vets marched to support Congressman Thompson. They had their victory celebration chant fine-tuned as they sang as one.
“This is to let you know.”
“In a fight, we will go.”
“No terrorist will prevail.”
“As we take them all to Hell.”
“Sound off.”
“We will not succumb.”
“Terrorists will be done.”
The KWNC film crew and Samantha were front and center. She had earned her dues according to the Congressman for her prestige staging area. She watched carefully for the red light on the camera to indicate the live broadcast signal. “And it is final. Congressman Tom Thompson defeated his Democratic opponent, Huey Paul Getty-Long, in a landslide victory. In about one hour, our confirmed Congressman is expected to take the podium. Our sources reveal his motorcade is on its way to the convention center and will be arriving within minutes. His victory tells the world we will not succumb to terrorists. I’m Samantha Breland, live from the River Front Convention Center. Now back to the newsroom with George Newland.”
Samantha glanced over at the arrival line of stretch limousines as if an Academy Awards night in Hollywood took place. She acknowledged Louisiana Governor Tina Peril and Mayor Erin Feinstein on air. Both, in fabulous black couture sequined gowns designed by the great-granddaughter of Vera Wang.
“And now Vice-President Robert Jesse Elliot and his wife Gertrude Vanderbilt Elliot has arrived too mixed reviews. The Vice-President fell out of favor after a scandal erupted involving the mysterious disappearance of a White House intern who accused him of sexual harassment. He denied any involvement, but the entire ordeal did not set favorably in the minds of the American public.”
Behind the elected official entourage, a pink stretch limousine arrived. The chauffeur moseyed dignified around to the front of the car to reveal the passenger inside. He used his gloved hand to open the door.
Kelly stepped from the limousine as her left foot, size eight clad by a Stuart Weitzman ruby slipper valued over one million dollars landed steadfast in slow motion to the ground and announced her arrival.
The crowd cheered. “We love you, Kelly.”
She placed her second foot on the ground. Her driver extended his white gloved hand and assisted Kelly as she raised from her royal carriage in
confidence knowing she would soon be the woman she pretended to be. A swarm of body guards surrounded her. Not to protect her, but to protect the jewels she wore.
Kelly’s princess gown, white and sparkly, was a fashion statement equally eloquent of her ruby slippers flattering her figure as if she were Marilyn Monroe wearing blue glitter lipstick. Her designer clutch was the perfect political accessory. Bedazzled using red rubies, white diamonds, blue sapphires and was arranged as the United States Flag it rivaled any royal accessory. She looked around at the exuberant crowd. One day, I could be the first lady with Tom at my side. Why stop there. Go for the Presidency. Reality slapped her in the face as the crowd chanted her name. She waved like royalty to her adoring fans. “I love you all.” She continued to wave and walk the Red Carpet looking like a Hollywood A-lister.
Samantha stopped Kelly. “Ms. Corbin, how important do you think the LBGT community was in getting Congressman Thompson elected tonight?”
Kelly leisurely licked her blue glittery lips with her eyes fixated on the camera. She looked around at the crowd as she absorbed the love, attention and adoration. “We are like everyone else. We should not be labeled and put in a separate category from the rest of society. We, like the Congressman’s other supporters, support him unconditionally because he represents everyone and believes in freedom and democracy. He’s a strong Congressman, for a stronger America. I admire his tenacity and courage to stand up for what is right for America as we all must do if we want to end terrorism in our country. If I had it my way, he would run for the President of the United States.”
The crowd erupted in a loud booming cheer; then they chanted. “Kelly Corbin for President.”
“Listen to this crowd. Are you overwhelmed by the love and support New Orleans gives you?”
“Well, Samantha, I am. I am truly honored and humbled by their outpouring of love. This is incredibly emotional.” Kelly pulled a white crisp monogrammed hankie from her studded jeweled purse and dabbed her eyes for the cameras. “It’s overwhelming for me when I think how I started out on the streets, at the tender age of six. Now, I’m living the American dream as an accepted woman.”
The Keystroke Killer Page 45