“Hmmm. It did to me, as though I’d heard it before, but I can’t place where yet. There was no answer when I called, so I had someone down there check on the address. A neighbor said Levitt left town but didn’t tell anyone where he was going… said he was very secretive about it. I’ll be following up further, but if you come across the name or the phone number again, let me know.”
“Okay. There was another reason I called you.” She tried to make her voice sound casual. “Did you have any luck checking on Lucas Madigan?”
“The man you went out with last night?”
She felt her cheeks heat up when she realized he may have witnessed her indiscretion. How could she have forgotten that someone was watching her every move?
“As far as I could tell, he’s a professor at the University of North Carolina, out here on vacation. He’s a California native, by the way. His parents still live in Pasadena.”
“Yes, he told me that last night.”
“At any rate, once I verified that much, I didn’t bother to follow you last night.”
“You didn’t?”
He shook his head. “It looked like you were safe enough, and you are permitted to have a private life, despite our agreement. I just have to keep reminding you to be cautious.”
She had the fleeting impression that he was lying to keep from embarrassing her, but she decided to accept his word since it was more comfortable than thinking he had seen her behaving like a slut. “So you don’t think Luke is a spy of any kind?”
“Not as a professional. If he’s an amateur, like you, it’s not so easy for me to uncover. You’d have a better chance of figuring that out just by spending time with him. If he’s an amateur sleuth, he’s sure to slip up on his own, particularly if the two of you start… getting close. Look for him to ask too many specific questions about your work or Jones, possibly at inappropriate times. The more casual he tries to be about it, the more you should suspect him of having a hidden agenda.”
Ellery reflected on the various conversations they’d had so far. “Other than his request for general information for a colleague of his, I don’t think he’s asked me a single specific question about the senator or my job.”
“Then you probably have nothing to fear from him. But stay alert, just in case. Remember what I’ve said from the beginning—trust no one.”
Ellery groaned. “It’s really not necessary to repeat that phrase every time we have a conversation. My memory is fully functional.”
By the time she returned to her apartment, she felt more relaxed about some things and more nervous about others.
His confirming that Luke was not a professional failed to give her any sense of relief, since the question still remained of whether he was an amateur like herself, but recruited by the other side… whoever they were. As she had told Brevowski, however, Luke hadn’t asked a single question that would lead her to believe he wanted inside information. Everything he said and did made it crystal clear what he wanted from her.
And yet he was very bright. He might realize that he’d have to earn her trust before asking any important questions. And what better way to earn a woman’s trust than by convincing her that he was crazy about her? If that was the case, then she was back to the point of keeping him close because that would be better than having “them” send someone else she would never suspect.
She got into bed, determined to get a few hours of sleep before going to work, but the little voice in her head kept repeating the same question.
What are you going to do about Luke?
She wasn’t at all positive she could spend time with him and not get stupid again. He and Diane had both suggested that she was afraid of him, and she could no longer deny it. Or rather, she was willing to admit that she was afraid of the effect he had on her.
Aren’t you the girl who believes in confronting your fears?
By confronting her fears of earthquakes, darkness and enclosed spaces, she had found ways to cope with them. Surely she could do as much with one man.
She got back out of bed and looked up the number for Conley’s Motel.
* * *
“H’lo?” Luke answered groggily.
“Oh no. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Go back to sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Ellery? Wait. Don’t hang up.”
“But you were asleep.”
“I was dreaming of you. This is better.”
“That was very sweet. Maybe we should have all our conversations when you’re asleep.”
“If you’re suggesting that we spend some time sleeping together, I’m perfectly willing to share my bed.”
“Aah, that’s more like it. You must be waking up.”
“Enough to wonder why you’re calling me at,” he glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Geez, princess, it’s two a.m.”
“Yes, I realize that now, and I’m sorry enough to ignore the objectionable title. As to why I called, well, I guess I was hoping you could help me with that. What with you being so smart and all.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I’ve got to admit, I have no idea what you want me to say, but I’m pretty sure there’s at least one answer that would make you hang up, so I think I’ll abstain until I have more information.”
“Why are you here?”
Luke pulled himself upright in bed and jogged his brain up to a more alert level. He should have been prepared for the question but he wasn’t, so he hedged. “Geographically or metaphysically?”
“Start with geographically. What are you doing here in Sacramento?”
“Do you want an honest answer?”
“Your decision, of course, but know that your answer may determine whether or not we see each other again.”
“In that case, be prepared for complete honesty. I came out to California because I thought my parents needed my help. The problems didn’t turn out to be as bad as I imagined, but since I was already here, I decided this was as good a place as any for this year’s vacation.”
“You told me your parents live in Pasadena. That doesn’t explain why you’re in Sacramento.”
“They do, and you’re right. I’m stalling. Because if I tell you the whole truth, I’m afraid you’re going to hang up and not call back again.”
“Then you have nothing to lose, because if you don’t tell me the truth, I’m gone anyway.”
“Okay. I’m hanging around Sacramento because I’m thirty-six years old and, for the first time in my life, I looked in a woman’s eyes, your eyes, and knew that if you were by my side, I’d never need to make love to another woman again.” He waited for a response, but he heard nothing. “I know that sounds corny, but I haven’t had any practice saying that kind of thing to a woman.”
“No. It wasn’t corny. It was… sweet. But you should know that I… I don’t feel the same way about you, nor am I interested in a long-term relationship with any man. If I agree to a real date with you tomorrow, er, tonight, you have to promise not to say anything like that again.”
Luke wasn’t bothered by her denial. Her physical response to him had said otherwise. And he was pretty sure she wasn’t in the habit of calling men she was indifferent about in the middle of the night because she couldn’t sleep. She just needed some time for her mind to catch up with her body. He grinned and crossed his fingers. “Anything you say, princess.”
Chapter 15
Henry Levitt was abruptly awakened by a heavy pressure on his stomach and mouth. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dim light coming in through the open window of his brother’s guest room.
“This will go much easier if you just relax,” whispered the blonde woman sitting on his stomach. Her latex-gloved hand remained clamped over his mouth. “Do you know who I am?”
Henry might not have recognized her if they’d passed on the street, but he recognized the pink designer suit she was wearing and, given the circumstances, he had no doubt this was Stewart’s killer. Not a woman, but a
man in drag. He shook his head in denial anyway.
“How strange,” the man replied in a husky voice. “I purposely wore the same outfit I had on the last time you saw me. And you certainly didn’t have any trouble describing me to the police artist.”
Henry’s eyes widened with terrified comprehension. He knew he was staring death in the face. The only question was which mutilation this maniac would do first, carve out his eyes or slash his throat. He tried to draw in a deep breath, but he simply wasn’t strong enough to make his diaphragm work against the man’s weight.
“I’ll get off if you promise not to move or make a sound. If you do anything to wake up your family, I guarantee they will all be dead before I leave here. If you do as I say, they’ll never know I was here, so I won’t have to hurt them, and you will be given a gift that will allow you to die with a little dignity. Agreed?”
As Henry was already getting dizzy from lack of oxygen, he nodded his agreement.
“Very good,” he whispered with a charming smile then moved off the bed. His freed captive gasped sharply. “Careful now,” he warned. “No noise. Do you have a pen and piece of paper in here?”
Henry nodded toward the nightstand drawer and the man easily found what he was looking for.
Handing the items to Henry, he told him to sit up and write the following to his brother…
“I hope you’ll forgive me for doing this in your home, but I didn’t want to be all alone. I hope you will understand why I chose a quick finish rather than what we both know was in store. Know that I love you very much.”
Henry wrote every word that was dictated and wondered how this creature knew exactly how he felt. Perhaps he once had a friend die of AIDS.
“Sign it with whatever nickname he called you, so he won’t have any doubt that you wrote this note yourself.”
Henry obeyed, handed the finished product to his executioner to proofread, then sank back on his pillows.
“Excellent,” he whispered, reaching into the pocket of the pink jacket. He then drew out a black capsule. “And this is your gift—extra-strength cyanide. It’s easy to swallow, relatively painless and incredibly fast-working.”
Henry’s hand shook as he accepted the lethal pill. He had heard that one of these could be obtained in Sweden, but the black market price in the United States was prohibitive. He had been waiting for death for the last six months. His visit to his brother was for the express purpose of saying goodbye. In a way, this maniac was giving him a gift.
His only concern was for his family’s safety and writing the suicide note guaranteed that much, once he swallowed the capsule. Given the limited options available to him, the decision was not all that difficult.
The man patiently watched him come to the only logical conclusion then sat down on a chair in the corner of the room. Henry made his peace with God, asked for blessings for his family and washed down the pill with the glass of water that had been set on his nightstand.
The executioner had never seen anyone die from cyanide. He could only hope it was quick and that Levitt didn’t try to fight it or cry out once it started to take effect. Probably because of his weakened condition, the poison did its job sooner than he had been told it would. He watched the emaciated man’s body jerk from a violent muscle spasm then gasp for air as he began to asphyxiate. From the man’s facial contortions it appeared that he was in excruciating pain, but he managed to suffer almost silently and keep his thrashing to a minimum. He could not help but admire the man’s courage, despite his being a flamer.
Less than five minutes later, it was all over. As the smell of human excrement filled the room, he set the suicide note on the nightstand and climbed back out the window he had entered. He couldn’t help but think how convenient it had been that Levitt had left that window open for him.
Then again, the gods usually did smile on him when he set out to do his most important work.
Chapter 16
Terrell’s mail raised his blood pressure several points. He should have known Luke wouldn’t give up that easily once he’d made up his mind to find The Eye Doctor. He should never have shown him that file. But it was far too late for second thoughts.
He scanned the envelope and its contents again to make sure he hadn’t missed anything that would tell him how to reach his crazy friend. If he thought it would do any good, he’d fly up to Sacramento and cruise the streets until he tracked him down. He knew it wouldn’t make any difference, though.
Like a bloodhound, Luke had picked up an irresistible scent, and he wouldn’t be deterred until he followed it to the source. From personal experience, Terrell knew just how impossible it was to walk away without a definite answer.
The doctored photo was similar enough to the police artist’s sketch that it could be admitted in court… if the person who had given the original description hadn’t been going by a twenty-one-year-old memory of someone he saw in a dark alley for only a few seconds.
The fact that the Jones brothers had been attending college in the northeast when the first murders occurred meant nothing by itself. Adding the coincidence of the senator, and possibly his brother, being in Los Angeles when the construction worker was killed helped support Luke’s conclusion, but still didn’t prove anything. There would have to be a hell of a lot more in the form of hard evidence to accuse the brother of a popular politician of being a serial killer.
Terrell’s real problem was that he was starting to believe that Luke had accidentally stumbled on the answer that had eluded the FBI for over two decades.
If one accepted the concept that few events occurred strictly by coincidence, or that God moves in mysterious ways, then Luke’s walking right into the killer once he decided to face up to his social responsibility became more feasible. But again, that wasn’t something a judge would pay heed to.
He had an idea of how he could get closer to the truth, but it would take a carefully constructed story. Once he came up with one, he donned a pair of thin latex gloves and created an anonymous letter made up from newspaper cuttings. To further throw suspicion from himself, he addressed it to the Sherrif’s Dept.—purposely misspelling the word “sheriff”. He then made an appointment to see Sheriff Patterson later that afternoon.
* * *
“I found this stuck in my door when I was leaving for work today.” Terrell placed the phony letter on his boss’s desk. “I figure it must have been someone who knows I’m a homicide detective. Oh, and, uh, I got a fingerprint or two on it when I unfolded it, but I was careful once I read it. Considering the content, I didn’t want to take it to the lab until I’d shown it to you.”
“Good thinking, Harris.” Patterson put on his glasses and read the message.
The guy who kilt Stewart Neuman is Teddy Jones I seen him do IT but Im afrade to rat in person INVESTate him or Ill tell the News
“Obviously, it’s ridiculous,” Terrell said. “But with all the talk about Jones probably being the next vice president, the press might run something like this if they receive it.”
Patterson removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “What would you suggest?”
“The best defense is laid in advance. Why not have a response statement from us already prepared? I thought I could call his office and confirm where he was the night of the murder.”
“I can go one better. I’ll give Abe a call myself. On his cell. Get it right from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.”
Terrell frowned. “Wouldn’t it be more official if I called—” He dropped the end of that sentence because the sheriff was already dialing. A few seconds later he was leaving a message for the senator to call him back.
“Leave this to me, Harris. You never know what some assistant might make of a homicide detective questioning the senator’s whereabouts at the time of a crime. Now, I have something I need to ask you about.”
Terrell hoped it was something he had an answer for.
“The grapevine has a rumor on it… that another
man had a police artist’s sketch done of a woman who looked a lot like Mr. Levitt’s transvestite. I heard you handled the case. Is that true?”
Terrell mentally relaxed. He was certain he’d covered his ass on this one. “I heard the same thing, but no, I didn’t handle the case. I escorted the man to the artist because he was working with us that day, but then I sent him to vice with the sketch to file a report. I don’t know whether the sketches looked alike or not. When I heard about the similarity, I checked with vice, but they said the guy never showed up there.”
“So what you’re saying is, we may have let a potential witness walk out the door.”
“I’m afraid so, sir, but there was no way anyone could have guessed that.”
The sheriff wasn’t happy with that answer, but when Terrell requested permission to leave, he granted it.
* * *
“It’s not definite that I have the part yet, but it looks very good. My agent said I could get the call any second and I have to be ready to fly out,” Brandon told Ellery over the phone. “That’s why I’ve got to stay in L.A. this weekend. I wish you’d change your mind and come down.”
Senator Jones came out of his office and stopped when he saw Ellery on the phone. She motioned that she’d be off in a second. “I’m sorry, Brandon, I couldn’t possibly get down there this weekend, but I made a note of your new phone number and address, and I promise to give you a call if anything changes. I have to go now. The senator needs me.”
Jones watched her set the note beneath her desk calendar. “Was that Brandon Ross?” he asked.
“Yes, I apologize—”
“Nonsense, Miss Winters. You may not have realized it, but my wife is a very big fan of his. And I noted that he made a nice contribution to our fundraiser. I gather that he’s back home in Beverly Hills, but do you think he’d be available to attend our dinner party next weekend?”
“I could certainly ask him. He mentioned several times that we should feel free to call on him if there’s anything he can do to support you. Unfortunately, based on what he just told me, I wouldn’t count on his being able to attend this weekend. It sounds like he’s about to land a big role in a movie that starts shooting immediately. If he gets it, he’ll be flying off to Poland in a few days.”
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