Monster's Dream

by P. K. Abbot

  Jack and Nathaniel had just left when Riley walked through the door.

  As soon as Céline saw Riley’s pale face, she knew the very worst that happened. For an hour, they talked and she wept. “How can I protect Nathaniel now?” she moaned again and again.

  After an hour, Riley’s cell phone rang. It was Mueller.

  “Riley, do you know were Doctor Pepperell is?”

  “I don’t know, Pete, but I’ll try to find him. What’s going on?”

  “Pepperell’s wife just gave Wolfson evidence that seems to implicate Pepperell in the abductions. Wolfson is getting a warrant and is going to arrest him.”

  “Pepp didn’t do it, Pete.”

  “The evidence is damning. You can examine it in my office.”

  “But he didn’t do it. I’ve known him for years. He’s being set up.”

  “If he is being set up, you’d better get to him and get him to surrender to me. If Wolfson is involved in the crime and is trying to cover it up, Pepp may suffer the same fate as Batiste did ten years ago.”

  “I’ll get right on it.” Riley hung up and dialed Pepp’s landline.

  Pepp answered on the first ring. “You’re in trouble, Pepp. Wolfson has some evidence implicating you in the child abductions, and he’s coming to arrest you.”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  “I know,” Riley said.

  “Shit,” Pepp said. I’m looking out the window. Wolfson just pulled up outside. I’ve got to go, Riley.”

  Riley hung up from Pepp and drove up to Mueller’s office in Atlantic City. As soon as he heard Riley was there, Mueller had him brought into his office.

  “I know Pepp is your friend, Riley, but the evidence against him is damning.”

  “I know him, Pete. He’s not capable of such heinous crimes.”

  “You know that psychopaths can deceive their closest acquaintances.”

  “Yeah. I know that, but Pepp is no psychopath.”

  Mueller set a clear evidence bag on his desk. Inside was a silver falcon. “This is what Mrs. Pepperell gave to Wolfson. She said her husband sent it to their daughter for her birthday.”

  Riley stared at the falcon. “It seems to be the same piece of jewelry that Yuliya had shown me. But Pepp couldn’t have done this.”

  “I’m sorry, Riley.”

  Just then a lab tech came into the office and set some wrapping paper in front of Mueller.

  “What’s that?” Riley asked.

  “It’s the paper that the jewelry was wrapped in. We just dusted it for fingerprints.”

  Riley stared hard at the paper. Taped to the wrapping was an origami wren.

  Riley drove to the Atlantic Coast College and found Roberta Wren in the office by herself.

  “Hi, Roberta,” Riley said. “Do you remember mailing a package that Doctor Pepperell sent to his daughter?”

  “I do. It was for her birthday, and I put a little decoration on the package for her.” She smiled broadly at Riley as she said it.

  Riley smiled back at her. “Do you remember when Doctor Pepperell gave you the package?”

  “He wasn’t in the office that day. Doctor Marcus gave it to me to mail on his behalf.”

  The color drained from Riley’s face. “I see,” he said. “Is Doctor Marcus in the office today?”

  “No, dear. Doctor Marcus is visiting his mother in her nursing home.” She scribbled something onto a piece of paper and handed it to Riley. “Here is the address and phone number of the home.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Wren. I have to run.”

  On his way out the door, Riley’s phone rang. It was Céline.

  “Hello?”

  Riley could hardly understand Céline. She was crying. “Riley, Jack just came back, and Nathaniel is missing. He left him alone for only a moment, but someone took him. Someone has Nathaniel.”

  “I know who took him, Céline. I know who’s been taking all of these boys. I’ll get Nathaniel back for you.”

  “You’ll get him back? Like you got Aleksander back for Yuliya?”

  “I’ll get him back.”

  “How are you going to do that?” she moaned.

  “I don’t know. But I’ll get him back. Now I have to run.” He ended the call.

  Riley walked to his car and opened the trunk to retrieve his jacket.

  “Hello, Riley,” the man in the trunk said.

  “Hello, Pepp.”

  Chapter 16

  As he drove to the address Roberta Wren had given him, Riley told Pepp everything he had learnt since they last spoke.

  “So Marcus is behind the abductions?” Pepp asked.

  “It seems that way, and, as the police profiler, he knew everything the police knew. That’s why he stayed ahead of them for so long, I guess.”

  Pepp just nodded.

  When they got to the nursing home, they asked if Doctor Marcus was there.

  The receptionists gave them a blank look. “Doctor Marcus? We don’t know a Doctor Marcus.”

  “His mother has been a patient here for years.”

  “I’m sorry, but we have no record of a patient or visitor with that name.”

  Riley broke into a cold sweat. Then he remembered something. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed her the picture from the fishing trip.

  She looked at the picture and said, “Oh, that’s Mr. McConnell.”

  Riley pointed to Marcus’s picture and said, ”This guy is Mr. McConnell?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he here now?”

  “No. He isn’t. He hasn’t been here in months.”

  “May I speak to his mother then?”

  The receptionist gave Riley a sad smile. “I’m sorry. Mrs. McConnell is in the end stages of Alzheimer’s. She hasn’t been lucid for years.”

  Riley just nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “You’ve been very helpful.”

  Then he turned to Pepp and said, “Pepp, let’s go.”

  As they walked out of the nursing home, Pepp took Riley’s phone from him. In a minute, Pepp said, “I’ve got it. I’ve got it, Riley. Atlantic County property records. Unimproved property. Adjacent to a wildlife sanctuary. Registered to a Mrs. McConnell. That has to be Marcus’s kill room.

  Chapter 17

  Riley and Pepp drove down Margate Boulevard to the bridge crossing closest to Marcus’s unimproved property. Just before the bridge, they pulled off the highway and inched down the embankment with the car until they were only feet from the waters of the bay.

  They got out of the car and stared at the faint orange glow in the distance. Marcus’s kill room. It was barely visible in the dying light of day, and it would become even dimmer in the dark of night.

  “That has to be it – where Marcus has Nathaniel,” Riley said. “I’m going for him.”

  “We should call Mueller.”

  “There isn’t time, Pepp. And it won’t be any easier as it gets darker.”

  “But he may be dead already, Riley.”

  Riley glared at Pepp. “Don’t even think that, Pepp. He’s still got to be alive. He has to be.”

  “All right,” Pepp said. “Let’s go.”

  Riley put his phone into his pocket. “No, Pepp. I need to do this alone.”

  “Why? What am I going to do?”

  Riley took out his Glock, chambered a round, and slid the gun back into his shoulder holster “We only have one weapon between us, and there’s a good chance I won’t make it through this. If that happens, we can’t both die tonight.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ll take my cell with me. If I get them, I’ll call Mueller on my cell from the kill room.”

  “And if you don’t get them?”

  “If I don’t get them, Nathaniel and I will both be dead. If I’m not back here in two hours, I want you to drive to Wildwood. Talk to Ginny and get her to call Pete. You’re still a wanted felon, but she can get through to him. Tell him everything we know, and Pete will do the rest. W
e owe it to Nathaniel to get these guys.”

  “That’s a horrible plan.”

  “That’s the plan. Wish me luck, buddy.” Pepp nodded to him as Riley walked away toward the kill room.

  Riley looked at his watch. Two hours before midnight. Would it happen at midnight? He hoped he hadn’t run out of time.

  He slid down the bank and splashed into the water at the edge of the bay. It was already low tide. The brackish water had receded and uncovered the underlying odor of decaying vegetation and death in the waters. The fetid smell weighed on Riley. It reminded him of what was at stake.

  As the night came on, a deep feeling of foreboding increased in Riley. It seemed like he had not yet gone halfway, and it was already 11:15. Would he have enough time?

  He pushed himself harder now, sloshing through the water on the edge of the bay. His breathing was more labored too, and he perspired in the humid air.

  As he got closer to the kill room, the water rose to his knees and the bottom became slippery with slime. At one point, he lost his footing and slid into a hole. The water covered his chest. He got his Glock out of his holster and held it above his head, but his cell phone was drenched and useless now.

  He started to think that he wouldn’t win. That he was running out of time. That he would be defeated and Nathaniel would die.

  His heart started to race. His blood was pounding through his arteries now, and he couldn’t catch his breath. He knew what was happening to him. He was going into tachycardia. His heart was running wild, and soon he would go into fibrillation. If his defibrillator discharged, he could lose consciousness and drown in the brackish water.

  To save Nathaniel, Riley now had to defeat his worst enemy – himself.

  Blood was pounding through his brain and he was gasping for air, when he decided to do it. Against every instinct, Riley forced himself to stop breathing, and he waited for his heart rate to come down. He prayed that his body would respond and that his defibrillator would not discharge.

  In a few moments, his heart rate steadied. Slowly he took a deep breath, held it, exhaled, and then repeated it. His body was returning to normal.

  He climbed out of the hole and pushed on toward the shack. He was running out of time.

  Riley still held his Glock over his head as he moved through the fetid water that was now up to his armpits. He trudged along the miry bottom and pushed ever closer to the dimly lit kill room. He was close enough now to see that the kill room was a weather-beaten shack built for fishing or crabbing. It sat above the bay on a roughly constructed platform and eight massive wooden pilings.

  He waded through the water until he was next to the pilings. As he stepped forward, he gashed his leg against a rough metal bar. He reached out and touched the bar. It seemed to be rebar. As he moved his hand along the metal under the water, he could tell that it had been welded into the form of a box or cage. Under the water something snapped at him and pinched his finger. A crab, he thought.

  Riley hauled himself up to the top of the cage. The water was still up to his hips, but at least he was out of the muck here. He shuffled along the top of the cage, being careful to stand on the rebar and not to fall through the spaces. In the dim light he could see a small boat tied to a wooden ladder at the far end of the platform. As he inched toward the boat, crabs snapped at his toes and ankles.

  When he reached the end of the cage, he grabbed the ladder and swung down into the water again. From there he could examine the boat closely. It was a tiny open boat – only five feet in length. It could carry no more than three people. It was propelled by a quiet electric motor, with two oars pressed against the gunwale for emergency use. The boat was painted black, and, with its running lights off, it could run undetected over the bay.

  Riley dragged himself up the rungs of the roughhewn wooden ladder. Splinters dug into his hands as putrid water dripped off his clothes. When he reached the platform and the entry to the crab shack, he peaked through the crack in the door.

  Four kerosene lanterns illuminated the interior of the shack with a dim orange light. The platform and the shack had been constructed with rough, creosote soaked planks.

  Riley saw Nathaniel at the far end of the shack. He was unconscious – but still alive. He had been stripped naked, and his limbs are splayed out like those of a starfish. His ankles are chained to the rough, planked floor, while his upper body is pulled forward by his wrists, which are shackled to the two forward posts at six feet above the floor.

  Marcus walked over to Nathaniel. He grasped the boy by his hair and was about to rouse him when Riley stepped into the room.

  “Step away from Nathaniel,” Riley said.

  Marcus turned toward Riley with an amused, quizzical look on his face. He was smiling.

  Then Riley felt the cold steel blade press against his carotid.

  Chapter 18

  The cold steel blade pressed more firmly against Riley’s carotid.

  “I’ll take that.” It was a young woman’s voice, raspy and frail. She reached around him with her thin arm and lifted the Glock from his hand.

  Riley turned and looked at her now for the first time. Her skin was so white, it seemed almost translucent. And her eyes were the color of ice – cold and dead. When he looked into her eyes, Riley knew instinctively who she was. “Angela Adams,” he whispered. “You’re Michael Adams’s twin sister.”

  The corner of her mouth turned up in a smirk. It was the only sign of emotion on her face.

  “How did you know that, detective?” Marcus asked from the far side of the shack.

  “I’ve seen the police file for the Adams twins. And their photos. I can’t forget those lifeless eyes.”

  “That was ten years ago,” Marcus said, “when I first met Angela. I had gone inside that elephant attraction in Margate.”

  “Lucy?” Riley asked.

  “Yes. Lucy,” Marcus said. “That’s the name of it. When I entered the main room inside, Angela and Michael were on the platform at the far end of the room…”

  “…and our eyes met,” Angela said.

  “Yes,” Marcus replied. “From across the room, we made eye contact. It was an instant recognition. I had never met Angela, but, as soon as I looked into her eyes, I knew everything about her. It took only one look.”

  “And I recognized him for who he was – a kindred spirit.,” she said. “I could see it in his eyes.”

  “But I realized that our relationship would be problematic,” Marcus said. “I always took boys who were brown, black, or mixed race. They had always been from lower income, single-parent households. Angela and Michael were the opposite of my norm. They were exceptionally attractive children. And they were from a wealthy white family. Their disappearance would create a very difficult problem for me. The logical course of action would have been for me to walk away from Michael and Angela.”

  “But I wouldn’t let you,” Angela said. “I knew we were the same, and I couldn’t lose you.”

  Marcus smiled at her. “I tried to walk away from them, but Angela was tenacious. She asked me to take them for ice cream. When I finally relented, Michael started to cry, but Angela persuaded him to stay with us. Do you remember what you said to him, Angela?”

  “I told him I would take care of him.”

  “And did you?”

  “In my own way,” she said. She giggled when she said it.

  “Michael was docile at first,” Marcus said.. “Angela persuaded him to get into my car. I drove them from Margate to my home. I pulled inside my garage and closed the door behind us before I let them out of the car. At this point, Michael was still compliant. It was only when we got to the lowest level of my home that Michael became agitated. At that level, there is a private dock which is separated from the inlet by an overhead steel door. When he saw our little boat sitting in the water there, he panicked. That is when I had to chloroform him. We traveled with Michael down the inlet to here. Angela had stripped off his clothes and tied him to that
bench by the time he woke again.”

  “When he woke, Michael was crying for mommy and daddy”, Angela said, “but I told him they weren’t coming. He was with me now, and they couldn’t save him. He started screaming then. That’s when he first said that he wanted to die,” she chuckled.

  “After a number of hours, we had to end it,” Marcus said. “I squeezed his throat until he lost consciousness, but then…”

  “But then I made him stop,” Angela interrupted. She started smiling as she looked at Riley and continued speaking. “I said I wanted to kiss Michael. So, I did kiss him. I gave him the kiss of life.“ Angela stared directly into Riley’s eyes.

  “You resuscitated him?” Riley asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “I brought him back.”

  Marcus smiled broadly at Riley and chuckled, “And there was the look on Michael’s face when he revived and realized that there would be no end to his torment. His look of utter despair. It was sublime. It was worth every ounce of the risk.”

  Riley felt the bile creeping up into his throat as he listened to them.

  “Why did you decide to dump Michael’s body?” he asked Marcus.

  “Angela asked me to do it.”

  “I wanted my parents to know what I did to Michael,” she said.

  “The state police did a postmortem evaluation of Michael,” Riley said. “Their x-rays revealed previous trauma to his bones. A history of physical abuse. The police suspected your parents of physical abuse.”

  She said nothing in reply. She stared at him with her cold blue eyes.

  “But they committed suicide,” Riley said.

  She shrugged and smiled contentedly at him. “They were weak,” she said. “They were all weak. And Michael was the weakest.”

  “Is that why you tortured him for years?”

  “Angela only followed her nature,” Marcus said. “She could not help herself.”

  “She’s a cold-blooded killer, “ Riley said, and he spat on the floor in front of him.