by W L Knightly
He was unsure of where he was at first—he could tell it wasn’t home—but as things became clearer, he realized he remembered he was just as familiar with it.
It wasn’t just any room, but his old courtroom that he’d served in for years before getting to move to the new courthouse across the street. The room he’d woken up in was nothing more than a big shell of itself from its renovation and scaffolding that spanned the room, allowing access to the high ceilings. Most of the rows of chairs and some of the fixtures had been taken down, along with some of the walls which were getting a huge makeover, although the bench and jury box were still in place. Across the room, sitting behind the bench where Ray sat for years, was a big, tall man dressed all in black. The hood over his eyes made it impossible to identify him.
Ray knew who it was immediately. “You’re the Hangman.”
“That’s what they call me,” the man said with a gruff voice that was like he didn’t want anyone to recognize it or he’d been punched in the throat.
The place was as dead as his voice, which carried off the walls with a blunt tone. Ray knew that there weren’t many people around in that particular area of the courthouse anymore, and the probability of someone happening along to save him was slim, which was entirely the point.
“Let me go. You’re making a big mistake with me, you know? You might have gotten away with having your fun with Daniels and Gaines, but you’re going to die for what you’re doing now.” He didn’t have to wonder what he was doing there. He knew. He’d heard about the Hangman’s motives.
The Hangman rose from the bench and then walked to the chair where Ray sat on the plaintiff’s side of the room. “Let’s play a game,” he said, spinning the man’s chair around like it was nothing.
On the wall where Ray couldn’t see it before was a hangman’s gallows and seven blank lines that appeared to be drawn with his blood. “I know what this is. You want me to guess letters and then solve the puzzle.” He was good with that and knew a little strategy that might help him.
“Get on your feet.” He didn’t ask. It was a command.
Ray smiled, not wanting the man to know he had gotten the better of him. “I don’t think I will.”
“Stand!” The Hangman grabbed him by the hair. The judge felt some of it being pulled out by the roots, and he got to his feet to save the rest. The Hangman quickly fastened a noose around his neck. “Stand on the chair.”
Ray looked up at the scaffolding over his head where the rope had been tied off. He wasn’t about to stand on any fucking chair. He was terrified, but he wasn’t about to show it.
The Hangman didn’t want to take no for an answer. He pulled the other end of the rope, and the noose tightened and forced Ray to climb up on the chair. “There, that’s better.”
“You’re going to pay for this,” said Ray with the little bit of breath he could get. He had to get him to loosen the ropes. “I’ll play. Loosen. The. Ropes.” He gasped for air between each word, but the Hangman ignored him.
“Guess a letter.” He took out a large knife, the kind of knife Ray used for hunting as a young man, the kind that would cut deep if it wanted.
Ray remembered what a blade like that could do to a deer. “R,” he said, knowing that it was a good guess.
The Hangman walked over with his knife held low, and instead of stabbing Ray again, he dug his fingertips into the wound on his chest.
Ray screamed out in pain as he felt the sting of his wounds being ripped apart. And just when he thought that he must have gotten his letter wrong, the Hangman turned to the wall and filled in two of the blanks.
“Another,” he said, turning around to face Ray.
“E.” Ray knew his best strategy was to figure out which vowel now went into the word, and he hoped his first guess was right.
The Hangman walked over and with force, dug his hands into the man’s flesh. “You’re on a roll,” he said. “Maybe you’ll figure out why you’re here before I have to kill you.”
“Is that what this is? The word is what I’ve done wrong? And that’s why you’ve chosen my old courtroom. Because this is where it happened for you.” He knew that any clue he had would help him figure it out. “You’re from one of my cases, aren’t you? Family done wrong? I can make it right.” He was ready to bargain for his life if necessary. He could put this maniac on his wife and be done with her and still have more money to retire on.
The Hangman didn’t move.
“Seriously, name your price. You want millions? I can get it.” He didn’t care what he had to give. He could give it all away and live to make it all over again. He didn’t have to change. He only had to survive.
“I can’t be bought like you can,” said the Hangman. “It’s time to play.”
That was what it was all about. He had taken payments for a number of things, and while he couldn’t figure out which case the Hangman was related to, he could figure out the puzzle if he put his mind to it. Then maybe the asshole would loosen the ropes and let him go.
He looked at the puzzle and began trying to figure out the missing letters, starting with A. When he got to B, something clicked. “Bribery,” he whispered under his breath.
The Hangman turned his head so fast that Ray knew he had guessed it. “That’s the word, isn’t it? Bribery. My sin. The one I’m here because of. You didn’t think I’d figure it out, did you?” He gave a strained chuckle, his throat tight with the rope around it still cutting into the flesh around his neck.
Ray got a smug grin on his face, and even though he could barely breathe with the rope tight around his neck, he felt a sense of pride, knowing he’d beaten the Hangman at his own game. “I guess you have to let me go now. That’s the way it goes, right? I win the game; I go free?” The man had not told him the rules, but he had a pretty good idea that he wasn’t getting free.
“You’re just cocky enough to believe that you get to walk away from this, aren’t you? But no, that’s not how this game works. The only prize is that you get to know why I’m doing it.” He walked over and took out his knife. “And now you know. So, I guess there isn’t any reason to keep you alive. But since you took away my fun, I think I should make you pay for that.”
He walked over and, with one quick strike, stabbed him in the shoulder. He pulled the knife out, and when the blood trickled down, he walked over and filled in the first blank space. Then he walked back over and, this time, buried the blade in his back.
Ray felt he blade strike bone, and he wanted to go to his knees, but as the chair he stood on started to shake, he tried to remain still. The thing shook and nearly tipped, and it scared him so badly that he pissed himself. He managed to cut off the flow, and the wet spot in front of his pants stayed small enough that the Hangman didn’t notice.
He regained his composure and managed to keep from tipping the chair, and then the Hangman stepped forward and raked his hand through his flesh. “You have a child,” said the man with his rough voice.
“Fuck you,” Ray said. He would not give up his son to this maniac.
“I wonder what Dax would think of his old man, taking bribes and using the system for his own gain. Pissing his pants when he gets scared. Let’s hope the kid has more of his mother in him.”
“Who are you, you fucker?” He didn’t see how Marlo could have been involved, but the killer seemed to know a lot about him. He had probably been watching him for years. “You leave my kid out of this.”
“I’m doing you a favor, you know? You’ll never have to worry about losing him. You’ll never have to know what it’s like to see your wife and kid brutalized.”
“Is that what this is about? Your wife and kid? I had nothing to do with hurting anyone’s kids.” He racked his brain, trying to figure out what he’d done that could push a man to this extreme, and there was only one solution. Something he had done hurt the man’s family.
“I’m doing this for anyone you’ve wronged. All of those people who want to kick your ass afte
r a trial that you’ve abused your power in.” He slashed out, the blade gliding across Ray’s chest like a razor. The blood beaded along the gash and then dripped down his chest. The Hangman collected more blood and then filled in the next couple of letters.
Growing weaker, Ray’s stamina began to give out, and just when he thought he couldn’t stand it anymore, the Hangman stepped forward and stabbed him in the gut. The blade struck so deep that it nearly went through him. The knife was pulled out, and then the man dug into his wound again, this time filling in the puzzle.
BRIBERY.
The word mocked Ray, and as his vision faded, the Hangman stepped forward and stuck the blade back deep. Then with a quick motion, he pulled it out again. Ray was too out of breath to scream and instead made a guttural sound, choking and spitting.
He couldn’t stand the pain any longer. He looked the man in the eyes behind the mesh of his hood and knew what he had to do. So much went through his mind in those next few seconds. He wished Marlo would suffer as much as he had and that he’d been better to Dax, who he surprisingly hated to leave more than anything else in the world.
He held the Hangman’s stare and then kicked the chair from under himself, thinking a quick and painless death was waiting.
But it didn’t happen as quickly as he wanted. Ray was left jerking around like a fish on a line, fighting for his life, but then he gave in to the darkness that engulfed him.
Chapter 30
Jake
Jo hurried and got into the car with Jake, and he wasted no time showing her what the car could do.
“Where are we going?” she asked, holding on to the dash as he pulled away from the house in a hot-fired hurry.
He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it sooner, but it made a lot of sense to him now. “The courthouse you love so much is new. But just a few years ago, Mathews was trying cases in the old courthouse. It’s in the old building across the street, behind the new one, and it was being renovated for a community room. They halted the project when the police department threw a fit over their building plans being put aside. It was a whole ugly mess, but if he wanted to take the judge somewhere, it could be that old courthouse. It’s locked up, and no one is allowed in, but I bet our Hangman would like it.”
“Jesus,” said Jo. “I bet you’re right. That could also mean that whatever the Hangman is doing this for took place back when that courthouse was open?”
“Good theory, and I’ll bet you’re right. Be sure to add that to your wall.” He winked.
“I just hope that we’re not too late.” She closed her eyes and sank back in her seat as if holding on for dear life.
“If we’re lucky, we’ll catch the bastard in the act.” Jake kept his eyes on the road, and when he hit the main street headed back to the courthouse, he laid down the pedal.
By the time they got to the courthouse, Jo’s eyes were wide as she white-knuckled the dash. “Should you call some backup?” she asked as Jake pulled in behind the building.
“And let them have all the fun? No way. I’m not sending anyone else in to fuck this up.” He stopped the car, not bothering to park properly, and he got out with his weapon drawn. “Stay back and cover me.” He saw an old white van, but it looked like it might have been left there by the construction crew. The thing was damaged and dingy and looked ready for the scrapyard. “Mathews’s courtroom is just down this hall.”
Jo nodded, and the two walked up to the door and pushed it, finding it open. Jake waved her along, pointing down the short hall and to the right. They stepped away from the door, and the weight of it slammed it shut. They exchanged a look, Jo’s eyes as wide as saucers.
Whoever was here knew they were coming now.
Jake thought he heard a noise, and he gestured for her to stay put. He was going to have to go and check it out. He saw a door to the bathrooms to their left. “Check those,” he mouthed. He needed to keep her occupied and out of danger.
“The bathrooms? Really?” She knew what he was up to, but he gave her a hard look, and she shrugged and headed toward the men’s room.
“Be quiet about it.” That earned him a sideward look, and she went to do her thing, much quieter than before.
Jake slowly made his way down the hall, checking another door along the way. He found nothing but an abandoned office with an old, empty desk and an outdated computer monitor. He remembered that room. It was the judge’s secretary’s office. Linda had been so proud of her new office, and he remembered the day she told him when he’d passed by that she was getting to move after all of those years.
He walked inside to the door of Mathews’s old chambers and opened it, not sure what he’d find. But the room was empty, and nothing but walls of empty bookcases remained. The back door, the one that Jake knew led to the courtroom, was ajar.
As he slowly approached the dimly lit hall, he pushed the door open, and a quick movement caught his attention. A dark figure swung a two-by-four at his face. It made contact, knocking him to the floor which sent his gun feet away.
“You should have listened,” said a raspy voice, and then the man ran away.
Jake didn’t see who hit him until the man stepped over him, and the man’s form was just a blur. But he was headed right for Jo, who was just walking into Linda’s old room. Thankfully, it was all still in Jake’s line of sight, but what he saw sent him into a panic.
The Hangman pushed Jo back against the wall across the hall from the doorway, and all Jake could do was watch, everything happening so fast. He tackled the little lady like some kind of linebacker moving her out of his way. She hit the wall hard, and Jake saw the pain on her face. Then she collapsed to the floor.
Jo rolled over onto her back and lifted up her gun to take aim. But the heavy door slammed before she could fire. She scrambled to her feet as if she were going after him, but Jake knew she wouldn’t make it in time to do anything but get herself killed.
“No!” he yelled from across the room.
She paused to look at Jake and shook her head. “He got away.” She ran over to check on Jake, who was trying to get to his feet. “Take it easy. You’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine. I’ll go after him.” He took a few steps but was dizzy, and he held onto Jo, who put both arms around him.
“It’s no use. He’s gone. I’ll call it in.” She stepped away, got on the phone, and called for dispatch as Jake listened. He was pissed at himself for getting hit and for not shooting the asshole, but the blow had knocked his gun out of his hand. He walked over and retrieved it from where it landed. The Hangman’s words were still clear in his head.
She hung up, and her entire posture sagged. “I should have gone after him, but he knocked me down, and I was scared for you. He just came at me so fast.” She had a worried look in her eyes.
“It’s okay,” Jake said. “I’m pretty sure Mathews is in there.” He started toward the door, but Jo pulled him back.
“Let’s get your bleeding to stop. We can’t go in and bleed all over everything. I’ll check it out. It’s fine.” She walked into the next room and then made her way back. “Yeah, he’s there. He’s dead.”
Jake wasn’t sure what she’d seen, but she was pale when she returned to the chambers.
He grabbed the hem of his shirt and then brought it over his head. It was the cleanest thing he could find to apply pressure to his head wound.
“Not bad,” said Jo, her eyes glancing down his body.
“Thanks,” he said with a cocky look.
“I meant the wound. It’s not that bad.” Her tone was defensive, but he wasn’t convinced.
He ripped his shirt and wiped the blood with a piece before tying another around his head. “That should hold out. Let’s go in.”
Jo didn’t look like it was a good idea, but she took him by the arm and walked with him. “Just to warn you. It’s bad.”
Jake could imagine it was the worst one yet.
They walked through the little hall that conne
cted the judge’s chamber to the courtroom, and when Jake got inside, he put his hand over his mouth. The Hangman had gutted his victim again, but this time, he’d taken the extra steps to totally disembowel the man. The light through the windows beamed down like a spotlight where Judge Ray Mathews hung from the scaffolding.
“Looks like he solved the puzzle,” said Jo. “Bribery. I guess I won’t have any fun with that one.”
“Yeah, and it shows that even if they solve the stupid game, they don’t get to live, which I’m sure neither of us ever thought was a possibility.”
“Right, I know I didn’t,” said Jo. “It’s just a way to give the victims false hope is my guess. Maybe the killer had a little false hope at one time.”
“He spoke to me,” said Jake. “He said I should have listened.”
“Did his voice sound familiar?”
“No. It sounded raspy. Like he had an injury.”
“Do you think that’s a coincidence? A man who is hanging people sounds like he has had some kind of throat trauma?”
Jake didn’t think anything was a coincidence anymore. “His actions all seemed very deliberate.” He looked over to the body, which still swayed slightly, his innards in a pile on the floor under his feet. “Like this. What the fuck possesses a man to do this to another man?”
“Rage?”
“Over what? Something has to be really bad to do this.” He looked around the room, wondering if there was anything else. His eyes caught something white on the witness stand. “Look at that.”
He pointed across the room, and Jo hurried over with him as he went to see what it was. “It’s another letter,” said Jake, reading his name.
“I’ll get forensics down here.”
“He’s really making shit hard for me,” said Jake. He didn’t want to wait for the forensics team to get down there. They would take all day and night trying to find evidence, and then he’d have to read the letter in front of the chief. “Fuck that.”
He reached out and grabbed the letter, and Jo gasped.