Gayle glanced at Angie, who shrugged.
“That one is challenging,” Gayle said. “You were there when Coulter took his gun out of his holster. You took the gun into evidence. Angie took it out of evidence and test fired it. Then she did the bullet analysis.”
“So,” Angie said, “the only person who could have replaced Coulter’s gun with another is you.”
Angie and Gayle stared at Sturgeon. He glared back. “And you two were doing so well up to that point.” Sturgeon tapped the evidence bag holding the gun. “That’s the gun Coulter handed over to me. I’m sure you checked the serial number.”
Angie nodded. “I did.”
Sturgeon leaned back in his chair and linked his hands behind his head.
“How do we explain the ballistic evidence?”
Angie and Gayle stared blankly back at Sturgeon.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Morning rush hour was over, and the below-freezing temperatures and icy wind kept office workers inside. Brad headed down Fourteenth Street to Seventh Avenue, then turned east. With the gym bag slung over his shoulder, he practically skated on the icy sidewalk into downtown. He bought an extra-large coffee and continued toward the library. This was where he had to be careful. The downtown library was right next to police headquarters. He’d thought about going to another library, but the downtown library had the best archives. He needed to read the newspapers from the last week again.
He kept his head low as he approached the library door. He slid the coffee under the worn jean jacket and entered. He smuggled the coffee to the fourth floor and took a table in the back corner. He set the coffee by the table leg and headed to the newspaper section where he grabbed all the papers for the last week and returned to the table.
He pulled out a couple of pens and a notebook, then sorted the newspapers into a pile with the date of the stabbing on top, followed by dates up to the current day. He glanced around the room frequently, so the librarian didn’t catch him with the coffee. It’s not like he’d be arrested, but he didn’t need the attention. But damn, he needed the coffee.
For the next ninety minutes, he read and re-read the news stories. The press had paid minimal attention to the first murders and didn’t get excited until the pimp and his chauffeur were killed. Thinking he would find the answer somewhere in the columns was silly, but it helped his brain work through the chronology and filled in some blanks from the early cases that he’d forgotten.
One thing that caught his eye was a hit and run that occurred after the drug dealer and before the pimp. He’d follow up on that, as well.
He re-read his original notes and filled in some blanks. Then he listed the murders one by one.
Murders
Drug Dealer, Tuesday, September 9
Billy Tuck
Victoria Park
The first in the string of killings?
Hesitation—the killer had second thoughts, or this was his first kill?
If his first kill, was it harder than the killer had imagined?
Nothing from the press and about the same from the police.
Lack of evidence or leads, so not worth pursuing.
It was easy now to see this as important, but at the time, he would have made the same decision.
Drug Dealer, Saturday, November 22
Vito Sotelo
Victoria Park
There were two months between killings
unless other killings not obviously linked.
He’d need someone to go back through the murders and suspicious deaths in the past six months. He tapped his pen on the pad, then wrote, Sturgeon.
Connection?
The MO was consistent—a knife, not found.
They were drug dealers who were not in jail.
The murders required prior knowledge of the habits of the victims—surveillance.
Maybe someone saw the killer when the victim was being stalked?
But who in that area would tell the cops anything?
If these were the first two murders, there was nothing linking them to Brad. The closest connection was that he’d taken an interest in the first stabbing, then he caught the second case.
* * *
Pimp and Chauffeur, Friday, November 28
Owen Judd and Anthony Moss
Eau Claire
Different weapon—a gun.
Four murders, two different weapons:
knife x 2
gun x 2
The shooting was extremely accurate.
The killer blended into the neighborhood.
Dressed as a homeless person?
If the killer had been dressed as a homeless person, he’d be practically invisible to anyone else in the area. In fact, most people went to great lengths to avoid the homeless. Not a suitable witness pool.
* * *
Tattoo Parlor, Monday, December 1
Zinovy Frolov, Nico Yudin, 2 more?? Names??
16th Avenue and Edmonton Trail
Killer escalating
four dead
knife,
gun
Confidence?
Thrill?
Multiple weapons
Scene staged
Video evidence left
Not just an escalation
well planned and personal
The penises in the mouth made a statement
Brad thought about a female killer.
That lead to two possibilities:
A victim
A close relative of a victim
Then again, if the victim was the sister or girlfriend, fiancée or wife, then a male might react this way and stage the scene. Now he’d talked himself into a circle.
Brad added his connection to the tattoo parlor. The Gypsy Jokers had owned that parlor two years ago. Brad had led a raid that shut the place down, for a while at least.
* * *
Teen Rapist, Wednesday, December 3
Burke Bailey Baldwin II
Lord Beaverbrook High School – Secondary killing location unknown
Wealthy, pretentious family
High school jock
Shit-don’t-stink attitude
Raped teen Laura Turner
Found not guilty
Jenni Blighe the crown prosecutor
Put on display at high school
Laura’s father, Al Turner, a suspect?
Biker at T&C, Sunday, December 7
Arnie Fletcher
Forest Lawn
Required Surveillance
Knowing the biker would be alone
Knowing he stayed after his chores and played pool
The side door was forced, yet the biker didn’t react like he was threatened
There were no defensive wounds and/or signs of a scuffle?
He let the killer get close
Again, personal.
Use of broken pool cue is creative,
and a different weapon.
Brad had history with the bikers and this bar. Two years ago, he’d confronted a Satan’s Soldiers biker in the T&C, Lou LeBeau. LeBeau and his creepy biker friends had threatened to rape his then-girlfriend, Sarah Park.
In the ensuing fight, Brad dropped LeBeau and two of his biker friends. Unfortunately, the fourth biker took Brad down. Thanks to the timely intervention of the bouncers, and a discreet phone call by an undercover cop, Brad was hauled out of the bar by cops and he had to suffer the wrath of Briscoe. It had been worth it.
* * *
Wife-Beater, Thursday December 4
Vinnie Bevan
Sunalta
Connection with Brad
Beaten
Not dead - yet
He and Griffin had caught Vinnie Bevan beating his girlfriend. Bevan decided he’d take it out on Brad. That didn’t work out for Bevan. Brad had lost control and had to be pulled off Bevan, twice. He was lucky Briscoe and Griffin defended him, but it worried both of them about Brad’s mental health. It came back to haunt Brad in court.
&n
bsp; Brad sat back and twirled a pen between his fingers. It was a better idea than chewing another pen. No evidence tied him to the first two murders. It wasn’t until the pimp and driver that evidence against him appeared. What happened after the second murder? Why him? Was framing him a bonus thrill of the kills?
Was it personal with him as well? He went back to his original notes about the evidence.
He thought about that. Who fits that statement?
Crime Scene Investigators
Cops
Lawyers
Judges
Military—Military Police?
Military—Special Forces—Airborne, SEALS, Rangers, Delta
The challenge was that when you matched the list of people who knew about crime scene evidence with the list of occupations that could kill multiple ways, there wasn’t much of a crossover. That the killer was military was number one on the list. But a vigilante cop was a close second.
What cop would want to frame him? There were cops who didn’t particularly like Brad. But he couldn’t think of any who would frame him. Then again, despite all their bluster over a few beers at the Cuff and Billy Club, he couldn’t think of a cop who would commit these murders. He had heard no rumors about a cop’s sister, mother, girlfriend or wife as the victim of a sex crime. Well, except him. Brad had a few reasons to go after perpetrators of sex crimes. Annie had been held and raped. But Brad had sent Wolfe to hell. That case was closed. LeBeau had tried to rape Sarah, but LeBeau had died tragically in a car bomb. And Maggie—well, he resolved that issue at the same time he avenged Annie’s assaults with Wolfe’s death.
An argument could be made that Brad had already taken revenge. Why would he need to commit these killings? Not an argument he’d want to use in court.
When LeBeau died, there had been speculation that with Brad’s tactical training, he had the knowledge and skills to make the bomb. True, but he was cleared. The two Internal Affairs detectives, Genereau and Harker, who had grudgingly cleared him, were on his case. Well, shit.
What was with Griffin? They’d gotten along fine. Worked together well. Was it as simple as Griffin was pissed because Brad escaped? Brad shrugged. Okay, I’d be pissed if someone disappeared on me. But to turn against him? Hunt him for murder?
He grabbed his coffee, but it was empty. His stomach growled. He checked his watch: 12:45. He stood to leave, then had another idea. He headed to the rack of newspapers for the past five days. He hauled them back to his table.
A story buried on page twelve mentioned a traffic fatality in downtown Calgary. The traffic division was still investigating and asking for anyone who may have witnessed the fatal hit and run to contact police. Brad remembered Sturgeon working on this. Brad headed to the archives and found the newspapers for the day after the hit and run. On the surface, it appeared like a drunk driver hit a drunk crossing the road. But what if that wasn’t all it was?
He grabbed his pen and made notes.
* * *
Hit and Run, Wednesday, November 26
Jimmy Duggan
Fourth Avenue and Macleod Trail SE.
Did this fit in?
Drunk driver hit while crossing the road. By a drunk driver?
Coincidence?
Was the car stolen for the purpose of killing the drunk?
Then it fit with each killing being different.
The paper mentioned multiple drunk driving charges, yet he still had his license. How many charges exactly?
The cops easily found the car—it had been stolen, and the owner was cleared. He needed additional information on the victim—his entire court records. Steele and Zerr would definitely know a few ladies in the court records section they could charm into supplying them with this information.
Brad replaced the newspapers, gathered his notes, and headed to the elevator. He was content with his research and notes. But was he any closer to identifying the killer?
Chapter Fifty-Four
Detectives Genereau and Harker were parked on the opposite side of the road down the block from the coffee shop. Genereau—a squat man, bald, with a wispy mustache and a nasal voice—was in the driver’s seat. His partner, Harker, was riding shotgun. Harker was thin and gangly with wild red hair that clashed with his rust-colored suit. He sported a narrow mustache and a face of freckles.
“There’s the reporter chick heading into the coffee shop,” Genereau said. “On TV, you only see her upper body and face, but dang, I like what I see. Too bad she’s wearing that huge parka.” He vigorously chewed his gum, making smacking sounds.
“Do you mind?” Harker keyed his portable radio and updated command. “Units in place.”
Genereau’s eyes didn’t leave the door to the coffee shop. “It’s what I do on stakeouts.”
“I don’t give a shit, you’re annoying me.”
“Keeps me alert.” Genereau snapped the gum louder.
“Go for a walk around the block. If you snap that gum one more time, I’m gonna grab you by your tie and drag you out of the car.”
“Man, you’re cranky. Maybe you need coffee. Head across the street. The chicks don’t know you.”
Harker snorted. “And the white shirt, tie, cheap suit and comfortable shoes don’t shout out cop.”
Genereau rolled down the window, then spit the gum onto the road. “There. Happy?”
Harker increased the heat. “Shut the frickin’ window. I’m cold enough. I’ll be ecstatic when you step out of the car, put your size twelves into the gum, and carry it to the next crime scene.”
Genereau rolled up the window and swung to his partner. “What is wrong with you today?”
Harker shrugged. “This doesn’t feel right.”
“Staking out the chicks?”
“Stop saying chicks.” Harker clapped his gloved hands together. “It’s not the stakeout. It’s the total mess with Coulter.”
Genereau grinned. “I’m gonna take great pleasure slapping the cuffs on that asshole. Maybe he’ll resist and we can rough him up. Fuckin’ dirty cop.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“Oh, great.” Genereau rolled his eyes. “Another Coulter hero worshiper.”
“You know I’m not a Coulter fan. And I’d love to catch his hand in the cookie jar. But he’s too smart. There’s no way he’d leave all the evidence leading back to him. If he were doing the killing, we’d never know.”
Genereau shrugged. “Since his fiancée got wasted, he’s not the same guy. Who knows what demons he’s fighting? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he sent some shitheads to purgatory. It still ain’t right about him being a cop.”
Harker keyed the radio again. “You guys got anything out back?”
“All quiet here.”
Harker keyed the mic. “Any unit see the suspect on the street?”
No reply.
“The meeting has started,” Harker said. “Be alert. Let’s see if Coulter shows.”
“Do you think Coulter will show up?” Genereau asked.
“You’re the one who thinks he’s stupid, so why not,” Harker said.
Genereau shrugged. “Sure. Maybe not that stupid.”
They watched the front of the coffee shop. It did excellent business, people coming and going all the time. Genereau wondered if they’d give the cops free coffee like 7-Eleven. Probably not. Too many upscale hippy freaks.
The radio squawked. “We’ve got something in the alley. A tall guy dressed in black entered the back door. He appears shady.”
“What the hell does shady look like?” Harker asked.
“Head down, shoulders hunched. For sure he didn’t want anyone to see his face.”
“You think it’s Coulter?”
“Right size, right build.”
“Roger that,” Harker said. “Detectives and TSU, move in.”
Genereau and Harker jumped out of the car and sprinted across the street. “I guess we won’t be getting free coffee here anytime soon.”
Annie figured two c
ould play the game, so she arrived at the coffee shop twenty minutes early, ordered her coffee and took the seat in the back booth facing the door. Just before two, Sadie entered the coffee shop, stopped inside the store, and removed her sunglasses. She surveyed the tables. A thin grin appeared as she spotted Annie.
Sadie tossed her parka and hat onto the bench and slid into the booth across from Annie. “I see Brad has taught us the same thing.” She set her gloves on the table.
Annie smirked. “Last time I arrived too late. I wasn’t making that mistake again.” Annie slid a cup across the table. “Got you an espresso.”
“Thank you.” Sadie sipped. “How’s Brad?”
Annie surveyed the room. “His friends met him last night and dropped off supplies, cash, food, and clothes. Didn’t he stay with you last night?”
Sadie shook her head and stared at her cup. “Not with me.”
Annie sipped her coffee.
Sadie set her cup down and glared. “You don’t trust me.”
“Just being cautious.”
“What is it I have to do?” Sadie slumped in her seat. “I’ve never betrayed his trust. I could have turned him in a dozen other times. One call to 911 and I would have the scoop of the decade. I didn’t.”
Annie shrugged. “It’s nothing personal.”
“The hell it isn’t.” Sadie glared at Annie. “You know where he met Steele and Zerr last night?”
“I have an idea.”
“But you won’t tell me.”
“It’s better that way.”
Sadie sat back and crossed her arms. “Fine. Tell me about your interrogation yesterday.”
“They made a show of it. Two police cruisers and four cops came to my apartment and escorted me downtown.”
Sadie’s eyes were wide. “That’s intimidating.”
Goddess of Justice Page 21