Lacking the energy to even let those dreams go far, Sam swiped his quarter over the prize boxes first. Since the first three prizes were $5000, $500, and $250 respectively, he doubted he had a winning hand on any of those rounds. He confirmed this by scratching off the player’s hand and the dealer’s hand. His first round looked good with a queen and a five, but the dealer had two aces. As the game continued, Sam found his spirits lifting as his competitive nature got into the game.
He lost on every single game, but he didn’t feel bad about it. It had been fun to dream big for a moment.
As he moved to fling the card aside, the sight of his hands made him freeze. The tips of his fingers were nearly black. Speckles of gray dust floated down from the ticket onto his lap. He blinked and watched another few flakes fall. Plucking up a few of the specks, Sam held them close and squinted down at them. His slow breaths sent a few tumbling from his hand. As the significance sank in, Sam frantically searched for something to hold them in. Remembering the medical gloves he kept in the car, Sam reached into his glove compartment and found the Ziploc bag of gloves. Dumping out the gloves, Sam gathered as many of the specks as he could and funneled them into the bag. For good measure, he placed the whole ticket inside.
Holding up the bag containing his precious discovery, Sam experienced several emotions. Elation and caution clashed within him. If he was right, the investigation had just leapt a few lightyears ahead of where it had been. He didn’t even consider being wrong. His gut was rarely wrong when it felt like this, twisted tight with anticipation.
“Got you,” he whispered, reaching for his phone.
Chapter 25:
Guild Power
Dr. Nikhil Kumar’s Apartment
Stafford Courthouse, Virginia
The cheerful sounds of an incoming call roused Nikhil Kumar from a deep sleep. He glared at the phone then quickly snatched it off the end table so it wouldn’t wake his wife. Struggling free of the sheets and blankets, he glanced at the screen on his way to the bathroom where he could turn on some lights. The caller ID showed him a number but no name. The phone also showed him the time which was just after midnight. Trying not to slam the bathroom door, he accepted the call.
“Hello?” he mumbled.
“I’m sorry to call so late, Dr. Kumar,” a male voice said quickly.
“Who is this?” Nikhil asked.
“It’s Sam Kerman with the FBI. We met a few weeks back when you showed me the evidence from my case.”
“Parkside Killer,” Nikhil said, as his brain awoke enough to make connections. He pictured the eager young agent and wondered why the man sounded so excited.
“Don’t think the name will fit much longer,” said the agent in a rush. “I found it!”
Found what?
“What can I do for you, agent?” Nikhil asked, trying to get the man to focus.
“The gray dust. I think it’s from a scratch off lottery ticket. If I’m right, it’s the scratch off stuff itself. It gets everywhere.”
The announcement blasted through the weariness clinging to Nikhil. His mind started churning through everything he knew about lottery tickets, which wasn’t much. He’d never bought a ticket in his life, but once in a while, he’d get one as a gift.
“Can you test it tomorrow?”
It took a second for the agent’s question to sink in.
“Today, I mean,” the agent corrected.
“Can you get it to me today?” Nikhil wondered.
“I’m headed to my apartment now. I’ll catch a few hours of sleep then hit the road again. I can be there by nine.”
“Guess I’ll see you at nine,” said Nikhil. He tried to hang on to caution, but the agent’s enthusiasm was infectious.
Without much else to say, the men ended the call. Nikhil tried to go back to sleep, but the best he could manage was a restless dozing state. Around 4 a.m. he gave up and rose to make coffee. Turning on his computer, he checked on his Empire of Destiny city. With players from around the world, it wasn’t unusual to see the world chat conversation lively. He watched it for a while, letting the inane banter relax him.
Thoughts of lottery tickets intruded regularly, so Nikhil started researching scratch off material. The more he learned, the less he truly knew. Chemically, he could guess at some of the elements involved in making the scratch off stuff, but he wouldn’t know for sure until he could test the agent’s theory.
By 10 o’clock in the morning, Nikhil had the gas chromatography results laid out next to the ones taken from each crime scene. While the expensive machine had done its business, he’d also thrown a small sample onto a glass slide and peered at the substance under several magnifications. It looked very similar to the gray dust specks found on the victims.
The agent had been right.
The readouts matched.
The agent’s eyes darted anxiously among the papers then fixed on Nikhil’s face, trying to read his expression. Nikhil idly wondered if the young man would explode if he didn’t get answers soon.
“They match,” he reported.
Agent Kerman’s face lit up with delight and relief, but his expression quickly turned thoughtful.
“Does it prove anything?” asked the agent. “I mean, are they unique? Could we tell which ticket it came from?”
“I doubt it,” Nikhil said, dousing some of the man’s excitement. “Before you arrived, I did a little background research. The substance making up lottery scratch off material is a closely guarded secret, but I believe most states’ formulas differ. I can look into that angle if you wish.”
“Please do,” said Agent Kerman. “I can try to get a warrant to help.”
Nikhil shook his head.
“I have an easier way.”
“What’s that?”
“Guild power,” Nikhil replied.
The agent looked baffled, so Nikhil explained.
“I’m part of an online gaming community that has a guild.” Nikhil saw that the agent still appeared glassy-eyed. “Never mind. I know people who will send me lottery tickets if I ask.”
Finally, Agent Kerman’s expression said he understood. Some of the man’s excitement returned and was replaced yet again by thoughtfulness.
“Could we appeal to the media?” he wondered. The tone said he was mostly talking to himself. “That might be faster, but it would also show our hand. This is the most unique thing we know about the killer. I don’t think we should reveal it yet.”
“I can make up a reason for wanting the tickets,” said Nikhil, “but where should I have them sent? It won’t be much of a secret if we have them mailed here.”
“The Bureau keeps some P.O. Boxes for random things like this,” said the agent. “I’ll see if there’s one in this area. If not, I’ll think of a different plan. You can have them mailed to me for all I care.”
Nikhil disagreed.
“Your name is linked to this investigation.”
“Something will work out,” said the agent. “I’ll open a new box if I have to.”
“Let me handle that,” said Nikhil, taking pity on the man. “Nobody knows of my involvement.”
Agent Kerman started to argue but changed his mind, settling for simple thanks.
“I appreciate that,” said the agent. He held out his hand for Nikhil to shake. “If you need any money to track down this lead, let me know. I have some discretionary funds.”
A bargain was struck, but the money didn’t matter. Nikhil had heard through the rumor mill what the monster had done to those college kids. If he could help catch the guy, any price would be worth it.
As soon as the agent left, Nikhil logged on to his personal laptop and accessed the Empire of Destiny website. It felt weird to be doing so on work time, but this was definitely a work-related request. A plausible story formed in his head as he worked. Before he finished composing the message though, Nikhil remembered he needed a P.O. Box.
Ten minutes later, he was the proud owner of a brand n
ew P.O. Box in Fredericksburg, Virginia. He didn’t think it wise to get one in Quantico since most of the world knew it hosted the FBI lab. Fredericksburg was close, but it was also a small city, which afforded some anonymity. He’d hesitated a moment over using one of his credit cards, but the paranoia passed.
Once those details settled into place, Nikhil returned to his partially composed message and read it over a few times. Not quite satisfied, he made some tweaks and read it again.
Topic: Seeking Lottery Tickets
Hi. My mother’s 75th birthday is coming up. She’s a huge collector. I’d like to surprise her with scratch off lottery tickets from every state. If you can help, please mail a ticket of your choice to P.O. Box 22401-3452. Thanks! (I’ll return the favor if you wish.)
After posting the message in the off-topic forum as well as the world chat box, Nikhil spent a half-hour privately messaging a few of the people he knew better and put in a personal plea. He felt bad about lying to them about his reasons but reminded himself of the end goal: catching a killer.
When only waiting remained, Nikhil decided to get back to his normal work. As he moved to clear the gas chromatograph reports, Nikhil looked at the numbers again. The readouts were eerily similar. He’d check tickets from other states and hope they differed enough to let him conclude a match mattered. Still, if his gut instinct panned out, they now knew one more piece of information: the killer bought New Jersey Lottery tickets.
Chapter 26:
On the Prowl
Streets near the World Trade Center
Manhattan, New York City
This was it. He could feel everything click neatly into place. The late hour made yellow cabs harder to find, which in turn made Convcars more attractive. Andrew assumed the name was a lazy abbreviation for “convenient cars,” but since there had been no interview for the job, he had never asked about the name. Anybody with an internet connection, a driver’s license, and a name could sign up to be a Convcar driver. Apparently, one didn’t even need a vehicle, as the company would happily rent you one.
Though he was loath to leave his precious van, Andrew bought a used Toyota Corolla from a private owner sight unseen. The man had balked at not meeting the intended owner, but Andrew had soothed him with an extra $200. The bum had been late to the drop off location, but the car worked as advertised. If it hadn’t run, Andrew would have had to think of an appropriate punishment. That would have been annoying.
Tonight, wearing a baseball cap and some prosthetics, Andrew had picked up and dropped off several fares. None of them struck him as good targets. He needed another high profile but random target to get the media attention away from the college kids. They’d been milking the story for a week. The hype would die down soon, but Andrew knew the FBI would be looking more closely at the three boys Andrew had culled from the pack.
These young ladies would do. They wanted him to take them to some place in northern New Jersey. So the direction and distance was on his side. The late hour meant they were tired. He could hear that much in their voices as they chattered about their long day.
“Feel free to drink the water. There’s more in the cooler up here.” Andrew handed back a third water bottle. He silently questioned the wisdom of abducting three victims at once.
The spiked water bottles had taken him many attempts to perfect. First, he needed to find the best needle and syringe to insert the liquid GHB. Many of the ones he tried were either too big or didn’t hold enough liquid. Next, he experimented with various insertion points. The best place turned out to be the bottom because he could turn the bottle over, stick the needle in, deliver the drug, and seal the hole with a dab of superglue. Most water bottles had natural ribbing that hid the work, but even that part had taken some practice.
The women politely thanked him. The blonde was an inch taller than her two companions. She seemed to be the one in charge. As she had also ordered the car, Andrew knew her name: Layla O’Malley. Only one of the girls sipped at a water, but she didn’t drink much.
By the time they crossed over the George Washington Bridge into New Jersey, Andrew concluded he would have to change plans. He stuck with the prescribed GPS route while he thought. Layla could follow the route on her phone to check his progress and keep track of the time, but in his limited experience, most people never bothered.
Pulling over and forcing them to drink the tainted water would be the quickest option, but it carried a lot of risk. He needed to get rid of their phones quickly. Waiting until they got closer and hoping they drank the water on their own was safest but also unlikely to succeed. Simply driving them where he wanted to go would be foolish. They would catch on and call for help minutes after he deviated course.
Deciding to be direct, Andrew simultaneously searched for a likely spot to pull over and ran more scenarios in his head. He weighed the risk of jumping out and simply turning around. As long as he moved quickly, everything would be fine. A glance back showed him that Layla was on her phone, likely texting somebody. He drove five miles over the speed limit so he wouldn’t be pulled over for speeding.
A traffic signal turned from green to yellow ahead. The stretch of road was momentarily empty. If he exited the car, the overhead light would come on. The red signal gave him an excuse to slow down. At the last moment, he swung the car onto the shoulder and slammed on the brakes. Three startled cries rang out, but Andrew ignored them. Throwing the car into park, he reached down and released his seat belt at the same time as he moved the driver’s seat back into the legs of the girl sitting behind him. One of the surprised cries changed pitch to include pain.
Drawing his gun, Andrew whirled, leaned over, and shoved it into Layla’s forehead.
Sometimes, he loved being ambidextrous.
“Give me your phones,” he demanded.
Since Layla’s phone was close, he snatched it away and tossed it onto the front passenger seat.
The young ladies were speechless.
“Phones. Now,” he prompted, emphasizing the point by increasing the pressure on Layla’s head.
“Do it.” Layla’s words could barely be heard. As she pushed past the shock, cold anger took its place.
Numbly, her two friends reluctantly handed over their phones.
“Good. Now purses.” Andrew kept several phones. He wouldn’t put it past these kids to keep multiple devices as well.
“You’re robbing us?” asked the girl behind the passenger seat. She sounded almost hopeful.
“Quiet!” He let the order hang in the air until he had their purses piled on the passenger seat. Light from a streetlamp cast enough of a glow for him to see the girls. “Now, open the water bottles and drink them.”
“Or what?” Layla challenged. Contempt entered her tone. “You’ll shoot us? Right here. In your car.”
Andrew had about a second to regain control of the situation, but he really didn’t want to kill her in the car. He started to withdraw the gun like he was taking her words to heart. Then, he lashed out with a lightning quick blow, using the gun as a blunt force object. The strike didn’t knock the woman out, but it threw her against the back seat. Andrew leaned forward and gripped her neck hard so she’d concentrate on breathing instead of talking.
“Any more questions?” he asked, directing the query to the other two women.
Trembling, they drained the water bottles.
“Help her,” he ordered the woman sitting to Layla’s right. He nodded toward the remaining water bottle.
The woman spilled a lot of the bottle, but some of it made it into Layla.
“Rest now,” he said.
A car passing by reminded him he needed to get going again. Picking up one of the phones, he tapped the power button to reveal a preview of the messages.
The most recent read:
Layla? R u there?
Knowing the three phones probably had a dozen apps blasting their location, Andrew carefully wiped them down with his shirt and tossed them out of the car. He did
the same for the phone he’d used to accept Convcar jobs. The police would find them, but that wouldn’t help them catch him. The iPhone had been purchased through an online auction and delivered to a P.O. Box he’d opened solely for that purpose before letting the payment lapse. He threw the three purses onto the side of the road too. It would give the cops hope, and that would keep them busy.
Maybe he’d even arrange some bogus ransom demands. He didn’t care if they got paid or not so there would be no risk of a trap. This wasn’t about ransom. It was about balance. Andrew suddenly realized why it felt right to take these girls. The last three targets were young men paying for their sins. These girls would balance the scales. Nobody could claim true innocence anyway, but they would allow him to continue his experiments. He would find the best way to kill a person.
As the women drifted off into drug-induced sleep, Andrew took the car out of park and turned around. Excitement coursed through his blood. He couldn’t wait to get home and begin researching again. He was also happy to have the company. Perhaps he would break his rule about getting to know the subjects. Layla seemed like a fighter.
Would she help him?
An hour slipped by while he thought about having an apprentice. He couldn’t deny the appeal of passing on his knowledge directly. Notes and blogs were good, but they lacked the satisfaction of seeing a pupil absorb and apply the lesson.
What would it take to reshape her?
He’d not considered breaking people part of his job, but it would give him something to do while he laid low. Much as he wished to carry on the noble part of his work, the investigators would be in a frenzy this week. Andrew smiled contentedly. The women would give him a real chance at answering some of his many questions about human nature.
Scratched Off Page 17