Everyone was on pins and needles all day waiting for the show to air. He planned to watch the show alone. Kick Lucas out of the study to do it. But he found Lucas already standing outside the study when he went downstairs shortly before nine PM.
Andreas raised one eyebrow at him questioningly.
“Everyone is inside, sir. I’ll give your family some privacy.” Shaking his head, he braced himself to face the crowd still upset with him for Cat and his increasingly horrible mood. Like a man about to face his executioner, he entered the study knowing they weren’t going to be any happier after watching tonight’s show.
He opened the door and the television was already on. The lead in was airing. Nikko came with a drink and offered it to him. He accepted it with a curt shake of the head, and then went to sit behind his desk.
Everyone else remained where they were seated. Ronnie was glowering with her arms crossed in front of her. Bella gave him a tentative smile. Gio did too. Everyone else focused on the program and the opening monologue.
The room was deadly silent as the reporter recited his opener looking directly into the camera, the huge clock ticking menacingly behind him. He started by giving a rundown on the crimes of one madman named Spiro Makas aka Salvatore Mazzelli and Darryl James. As the reporter spoke the victims’ names, a photo of the person was shown in an inset in the top left corner of the screen. When his parent’s picture flashed his gut twisted. He took a sip of his drink. It was as quiet as a funeral. Lisa placed her hand in Gio’s lap and he took it. Nikko put his arm around Ronnie who uncrossed her arms. Bella put her head on Blaze’s chest. It made him miss Cat even more.
He did not flinch or move.
The show broke for commercial then, but the reporter promised to return and try to delve into the mind of the mad man. What led him on this killing spree?
Nikko got up to pour himself a drink. “I know why. He is sick bastard. Period.”
No one disagreed with him. Blaze glanced over his shoulder to check on Andreas.
When the reporter returned, pictures of Spiro were shown. The reporter announced that they were gathered from the FBI investigation of Spiro’s father, a criminal of the worst kind. The FBI investigation into the sex slave industry revealed a man who kidnapped and purchased young women and boys, mostly foreign born, and used them in the United States to satisfy the needs of the depraved. Only 21 when his father was captured, Spiro disappeared, although testimony of the young girls revealed his father treated him brutally, embarrassed by his son’s disfigurement. Spiro had brought them treats, given them extra food, and was always quiet. When he was in one of the homes where the girls were kept, he had chores assigned to him by either his father or one of his father’s men. The FBI searched for him in the hopes of having him testify against his father. But he never resurfaced.
“They are making him sound like one of the fucking victims,” Gio cursed, getting up and pacing briefly before standing behind his wife who still remained on the sofa.
She reached for the hand he placed on her shoulder. “Honey, he was, then, but it is still no excuse for what he did.” His response was a grunt, but he made no comment.
The reporter continued. “His obsession with one of the slaves, in his father’s employ when the bust went down, triggered this madman’s killing spree. Catarina Stone, nineteen, dubbed the Tampa Madame in recent news, was that girl. His obsession with her beauty, and her kindness to him, started it all psychologists believe.” An FBI profiler appeared on the screen and he explained how Spiro, neglected, became obsessed with the one woman who looked on him not with disgust but pity. He took that for love, and became obsessed with her. When she was taken into protective custody, she was lost to him, and he snapped.
The reporter asked his next question. “Dr. Figueroa, but what made him kill?”
The camera panned over to the doctor. “He tried to find that acceptance elsewhere. From the crime scene photos, forensic evidence, the autopsy reports, we know he always damaged the eyes of his victims. Perhaps the first woman he came into contact with sneered at him, couldn’t look at him, and that triggered his first kill. He was looking for love, acceptance. This is a primal need everyone has. If this is not given it causes people to literally go berserk, to snap, as you say. And I think it is worth mentioning that the very first victim looked the most like Miss Stone.”
“This man has killed fourteen people that we know of. Eight victims, a decade ago. Six more recently. Why the gap? Why the Marinos?”
“Hmm, the crimes started in New York. This was a few years after Catarina had gone missing to him. He probably tried to live a normal life, but then the first victim probably brought it all back. She looked very much like his Catarina, his Beauty, as he called her. When he began to kill it was random, the murders had larger time gaps between them than what we have seen recently. He had another life, a normal one, and was probably trying to keep the balance between the two. But once he started, he couldn’t stop. It made him feel powerful. In control, and he never had that before. When Detective Marino began to tighten the noose, started getting close, he felt like he was losing that control. And so, the death of Detective Marino’s parents was about revenge. Spiro had found some kind of stability in his marriage, a calm in between the storms of his urges. When the police found out his identity, his wife and child went into protective custody. It was simple revenge against the cop who took them away in his mind.”
Andreas sighed. He knew this already. He had earned Sal’s wrath and it had cost his parents’ their lives. It was the price he had paid for working vice and sex crimes. It was also the reason he got out. He didn’t want to lose anyone else.
“So, what brought about the recent crime spree? Why did he resurface?” asked the reporter.
Dr. Figueroa smiled and then looking into the camera explained what occurred from a psychological perspective. “Yes, the man then went into hiding, tried to live a normal life again, as far as we know, but,” the doctor shrugged his shoulders, “he may have killed others. We don’t know that yet. Perhaps he used a slightly different MO and probably moved around a lot to avoid detection. Police are looking into that now. However, the recent crimes stemmed out of the fact that his obsession, Catarina Stone, had resurfaced. Fate. Bad luck. Geographical proximity. A freak run in. Unluckily so, he had found her after all those years. It brought his feelings to the forefront again. From what police have revealed so far, his crimes in the Tampa Bay area resumed when he was no longer able to be near Catarina. He was employed in the building she lived in and was watching her for months from a neighbor’s vacant apartment before he killed again. When the couple he killed recently returned from their home up North, he wasn’t able to see her. He had drilled a small hole in their bedroom closet that looked into her room, to watch her. The first murder happened three weeks after their return to Florida. His easy access to her had been cut off, and his primal evil urges returned.”
The reporter thanked the psychiatric-criminologist for his insight, and then facing the cameras revealed that next, Catarina Stone, the woman behind the obsession, was going to speak out about the crimes, and give her first ever televised interview.
Andreas’ palms were sweating and his heart accelerated. He hadn’t seen Cat in two weeks, and he ached to hold her, soothe her. The daily reports he got on her safety were not enough. He had only communicated with her once, and that was through Lucas, when the show’s producers called to tell him when they would be filming his segment at his home. The police hoped new information would lead to an arrest, and because they had reached another dead end, he agreed. Cat’s communication had been that she would comply, but there was nothing else she wanted passed along to him.
Another commercial was over, and the reporter now stood in a darkened room, a bookshelf behind him. “What was in the mind of this madman as he killed fourteen people? I think our next guest can provide us with the most insight into that question.”
The camera panned to Cat. Th
e interview was conducted at her hotel in one of the conference rooms. As per orders from the police, they had used a screen in the background depicting a window and curtains. Nothing was to be shown that would reveal her location.
Cat sat comfortably in a wing back chair facing the reporter. She looked elegant, yet business like. The questions they would ask had been given to her ahead of time and discussed with the investigative team. Andreas had received his questions in a similar manner and had been briefed by the Tampa Bay PD before his interview as well.
“Miss Stone,” the reporter began in a sympathetic tone. “I first want to ask you about your relationship with Spiro Makas.” At Catarina’s nod, he continued. “Now that you know what this man has done, have you been able to reconcile his actions with what you know of him?”
Cat shook her head sadly. “The Spiro I knew back then, he was like us, a victim of his father. I never would have suspected him capable of these acts, and even until recently with the kidnapping and identification of him by one of the escaped victims, I still had my doubts. He was gentle, quiet, and I saw pain in his eyes. I assume back then he saw me as another girl to pity.”
“I hate to ask this, but from what research states, and the profilers and psychologists, did you encourage his infatuation with you in anyway?”
“I just don’t know. Really. It was a long time ago, but what I remember about him was kindness. We were treated horribly, denied food and other things if we did not please our bosses. He would bring us things. Paper to write on, food, candy. The girls appreciated him. He never asked for anything in return. We had nothing to give him. I think that is why we appreciated what he did so much. When you have nothing, and someone, anyone shows you just the slightest kindness, it makes it more special.”
“Do you regret,” he asked, “your kindness to this man now that you know what he has done in the name of love for you?”
“Oh, you do ask some hard questions. But hindsight is better than foresight. I can’t say that I do. He was kind to me, to all of us, but did I encourage more? No, I did not. I wish he would not have killed those people. And, I hope he stops. I would do anything for him to stop. Those people are innocent victims too. But, no, I do not regret my kindness to a young man who helped me in a difficult time.”
The reporter went on to talk about how she had been a suspect originally, and how the investigation turned. She did a fantastic job, Andreas thought. She held her head up proudly, not ashamed of her actions and her choices later on.
“Do you have any regrets? At all?” the reporter asked his final question.
She nodded, and he saw the unshed emotion brimming in her eyes. The reporter reached over to grasp her hand, providing her comfort until she could regain her voice.
“I do. One. My sole regret is that I wish I had not become involved with Mr. Marino. When I first approached him to help with the investigation, I did so because I had researched the crimes and I felt it was Andreas who held the key to it all. Not I. My approaching him has brought yet another near tragedy upon his family.” She paused to make sure she got her practiced speech correct. “During the early weeks of the current investigation, I became romantically involved with Mr. Marino. That is over now. Our brief liaison has only brought more danger upon his family and others. If I would have known that Spiro was the one doing these things, that I was actually the object of his . . .” she was struggling for the right word. “The object of his desire, I would have not wanted to put Mr. Marino, my neighbors, the girls whom I employed in harm’s way. Mr. Marino feels the same way. Our relationship ended a few weeks ago.”
The camera panned closer on her, on her face, her grey eyes illuminated by her unshed tears. Andreas ached for her, and clasped the glass of scotch in his hands to the breaking point. Cat was looking directly in the camera. Tears came down her pale cheeks. “Please, stop Spiro. Please, do not hurt anyone else. Our friendship back then was real. You were the only one to help us. You helped so many, gave us the only hope we had that people could be kind in a very cruel situation. Don’t hurt anyone because of me. Anymore. Please.”
The reporter handed her a tissue, and she dabbed her eyes as the camera faded to black.
The reporter then hinted that the next segment would bring forth new information about the Rosedale Romeo from one of the victim’s families, and behind him a picture of Andreas from his days on the force was shown. “Former Detective Andreas Marino was on the investigative team that nearly caught him a decade ago. For that the Marino family paid dearly. Again tragedy struck this family, and the Rosedale Romeo resurfaced once more to wreak havoc on them. Can he now shed new light on Romeo’s recent killing spree? We will see, when Forty-eight hours returns.” The program cut to another commercial.
“She did great,” Gio commented. He looked to Andreas who sat stonily watching the commercials, taking another sip of his drink. He got up to refill it.
Nikko and Blaze chimed in with their thoughts as the commercials aired. They were trying to express their concern for him and in just a few moments he knew they would lose their empathy quickly.
When the program resumed, the reporter talked about the death of their parents, Andreas’ investigation, and the consequences of revealing Sal’s criminal activity upon their family once more. Then there he was, all too soon, on the screen. Andreas, here, in this study. They had filmed this segment only yesterday.
“Mr. Marino. Are you surprised Romeo has resurfaced?”
His cold eyes stared into the camera. “No, not at all. These kinds of criminals always resume their activities until they are caught.” The reporter asked a few more questions about that investigation, ten years ago, what had happened with Sal’s then wife, and infant son.
“They are in protective custody. Only I know their whereabouts, and three others who run the program. His son is better off without him. The cycle of insanity in that family had to end. No good could have come from this monster rearing a child,” he added tersely.
“Mr. Marino,” the reporter glanced down at his notes before he asked the next question. “Your relationship with Miss Stone, she told us ended weeks ago. It is a strange coincidence don’t you think that you became involved with the person that has instigated these crimes if inadvertently, is it not?”
“Yeah, really bad luck, on my part.” His words were harsh. “She approached me to investigate the death of her girls. She had researched investigators who had experience catching these criminals. At the time, she was a suspect too. I took the case because of the similarity to Sal’s earlier crime spree. Initially I felt bad for her, thinking she was just another victim, one whose life was in danger because of my failure to apprehend him all those years ago. I must admit,” he looked away briefly, “I found her attractive, and perhaps my own guilt led me to pity her.” His hand raked through his already disheveled hair on camera. He wet his lips before speaking again. “Our, er, relationship, was brief. It ended because as her past was revealed through the process of the investigation; I am ashamed to say, I could not handle it. That and knowing that she in fact was the spark that ignited this monster’s havoc on an unsuspecting innocent population, caused my feelings to change.” Lisa gasped and looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes questioned his honesty. Ronnie’s arms were crossed once more and she glared at him openly. Bella wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. And Andreas hated himself even more.
The reporter feigned shock, but surged ahead. “Are you saying, Mr. Marino, that you ended the relationship because you found out about her past? The prostitution, when she was a victim?”
Lisa let out yet another gasp at the audacity of the question. Ronnie bored holes in Andreas. Bella hid her face against Blaze.
His face was stern, a mask of strength hiding his true feelings. He knew his words were lies coming out of his mouth, but he said them anyway to take the anger off of Cat and put it on him. He loved her too much to imagine Sal taking his cruel vengeance out on her. “Yes,” he sighed letting
out a long hostile breath of air, “and No. I am not a man to settle down for long. Our pasts were inexorably tied together although we did not know it at the time. But knowing that Sal killed my parents, killed all those people because of her, I knew it would eat away at me. Nothing good could have ever come from that.” The reporter was shaking his head in derision.
Lisa pounced turning abruptly in her seat. “Andreas. It’s not her fault.”
His voice continued despite her interruption. “Cat is beautiful. But, I can never look at her the same knowing what I now know about her. Somehow she allowed this obsession to go on, maybe even encouraged it, and helped to create this monster. I can’t be with someone like that. I don’t wish her ill, but I can’t have someone like her in my life. In my family’s lives.”
“Andy?” Nikko stood up, and was approaching the desk. His arms were open. “Why did you say such cruel things?”
Andreas got up then. He couldn’t take it anymore. “Because, it’s how I felt.” Another lie.
Nikko was shaking his head. Gio was coming round to him. “You liar. Fucking liar. You love that woman and you know it. If you think this is protecting her, you are dead wrong.” Gio, of course, would be the first person to see through his ruse.
“I am protecting you, all of you,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
Blaze came round next. His nostrils flaring. “We never asked you to martyr yourself because of this. Goddammit, Andy. You blamed yourself, and now you are blaming her on national television. Saying horrible things about a woman you know you love. That we know you love. How do you think she is feeling right now, watching this alone? We’re men now, and we can protect our own. You need to do the fucking same thing.”
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