“Yes, sir,” chimed in Hebert. “We‘re on it right now.” He rose hurriedly, eager to be on his way.
“By the way, can you sanitize this disk?” This was not an unexpected question from Powers, but it still caught Hebert, and Dakota, too, he suspected, off guard.
“What do you mean, Mr. Powers?” The idea of suppressing evidence scared both Dakota and Hebert and the shock registered on their faces.
“If you find something we don’t want out, I want it cleaned. You have to make a copy for this Storm fellow, anyway, don’t you? Well, when you do, erase anything you think might embarrass us.” Leon Powers didn’t have to repeat himself to make himself understood.
“Do we leave out Joe taking her in?” asked Dakota.
“No, leave Joe in. He may have to be the sacrificial lamb if we need him,” said Powers dismissively, and with a wave of his hand the meeting was over and everyone knew it was time to leave. Nagel hung up after saying he’d fill in the mayor.
* * * *
Not trusting that Vern Nagel was on top of things, Leon Powers reached for his phone. It was time for him to talk to the mayor directly and make sure His Honor understood the significance of control and silence.
Leon Powers was the CEO of a multibillion dollar concern with thousands of employees and huge revenues coming in daily. With a heady Ivy League education and a willingness to sacrifice anything or anyone to further his own prestige and career, he had risen to the top by always being in control of his own destiny. For years he had had to deal with politicians and he retained one of the best lobbying firms in the state of Texas. So dealing with the new mayor was not just a concern, it was a necessity.
He had accepted the role of president of the Livestock Show and Rodeo for his pleasure. It was a voluntary job but not without its perks. It added to his resume, put him in the public eye as a philanthropist, and meant he sat on an executive board with some of Houston’s most powerful, rich, and elite families; exactly where he wanted to be. His term as president was three years, at which time he would move to the executive committee, where he would continue as a member until such time as he wanted to step down or he died. Leon was married, and although his wife had never showed any interest in the charity, his children did, and he made sure they were placed on high profile committees. He also saw to it that they were allowed to use the Rodeo as their private playground and, of course, granted all the privileges to which the children of the president are entitled.
Mayor Richard Lemay answered his private cell phone. Only a handful of people had the number.
“Richard, this is Lee.” Leon Powers had never liked the name “Leon.”
“Yes, Lee, what can I do for you?”
“I know you are aware of the unfortunate events of Sunday morning out here.”
“Yes, I am.” The mayor waited.
“You’ve got some cop out here digging around and we can’t have him finding anything that could be scandalous for the largest contributor of incidental income to the city. Do I make myself clear?” The threat was not veiled. Powers knew the mayor would understand exactly what Powers was saying.
“I am aware and I have been assured by chief of police and Lieutenant Flynn, who is his immediate supervisor, that the detective they assigned to the case fits our standards perfectly, perfectly, for this job. Lieutenant Flynn has assured me that Detective Storm is a burn-out waiting for retirement.”
“Richard, there are many influential people involved out here and I know you don’t want anyone connected to the city embarrassing them or their favorite charity.”
Powers got some satisfaction from imagining Lemay cringing. The threat was not veiled. Leon Powers and the people that ran the Livestock Show were among the richest and most powerful kingdom builders in town. He knew the mayor didn’t need or want to piss them off; he needed their support if he was going to continue to run the fourth largest city in nation.
“Lee, I will dig into this as soon as we are off this call and this will go away, or if a killer is found, it won’t be linked to the Show.”
“I knew you would see it my way, Richard, and I know you can handle this. Thanks for your cooperation. You need to come out as my guest soon. How about the day of the President’s visit? Good photo op for you, even if you are from that other political party!” With a small laugh, Leon disconnected the call.
* * * *
Goddamn it, shit, I don’t need this now, thought Richard Lemay. The press was already all over him about the failure of his crime lab and his reneging on his pre-election promises to not raise property taxes. He pushed his intercom button. “Get Vern Nagel and the police chief in my office now!” he ordered his assistant. Almost as an afterthought he told her, “Add Lieutenant Flynn to the list, as well.”
Chapter Twelve
One More Addition
When Storm got to the Sharps Building he checked in with the receptionist and went to meet Alisha. She was working on another body, this time a young kid who looked about ten years old. As the bile rose in Storm’s throat he fought the urge to vomit. This was one of his most hated sights—kids dead.
“What happened here, Alisha?” Storm covered his mouth from the involuntary gag reaction.
“Floater, his father found him face down in next door neighbor’s pool. Told the cops the boy had been missing about two hours and that neighbors were gone. Supposedly the gates were locked. But you know kids, when there is a will they will find a way.”
“Damn, Alisha, that is three drownings this month, isn’t it, and it’s still too cold for a kid to want to go swimmin’, isn’t it?”
“Four, four kids, and it is just the start of March,” said Alisha.
“Damn!” Storm shook his head, moving on from this objectionable subject. He had his own fish to fry. “Did you find anything new on our girl?”
“No, not much. I did do a DNA test on the semen found in the girl’s vagina, but although there was bruising in her rectum, there was no semen there. She was penetrated both vaginally and rectally, but there was only lubricant in the rectum and everything indicates she was dead when that happened although still warm.
“If we find a suspect at least we got something to run their DNA against and we can run our sample against all the data bases I have access to.” Added Alisha
“Could it have been two guys? One before she died and one after?”
“Could be, although without semen in the rectum, I can’t be sure it was two. Either way, someone(s) had sex with her before and after she died from the front and from the back.”
“So, it could it have been one guy?”
“The first must have been hurried, he must have been using a condom to leave the spermicide but it must have broke or he was sloppy, because he left traces of semen for us to find. If there was a second, they took their time or the first was no longer in a hurry, but as I said, he left nothing to match except the brand of lubricant.”
“Any defensive wounds on her arms or legs?” He paused and then went on. “Find anything anywhere?”
“None. She didn’t put up a fight and there were no skin cells or blood under her nails, she didn’t mark him.”
“She would have had to know him or them, and had to trust them to put herself in that situation then,” said Storm.
“Looks that way or she got caught totally off guard by one or both. Whoever took her last is the one you want, I’m sure of it, whether it’s one or two, and whoever he or they are, they covered their tracks pretty damn well.” Alisha was still looking at her deceased child.
Storm thought out loud. “The way she was killed and the lack of evidence suggests he knew what he was doing ...Hey, Alisha, you got a copier?” he asked suddenly.
“Yes, over there, why?”
Storm hesitated. He had already drawn Russell and Grady into his anonymous detective team and now he was about to attempt to bring Alisha into it. He looked her directly in the eyes. If she wavered she was out, but if she held his gaze, h
e had another recruit. “Alisha, I think our girl is one of seven girls killed over the past seven years. I think whoever killed her might have killed them all, and if that is true, you know what we got.”
Alisha gasped. She looked back in Storm’s eyes and he saw she understood this was no time for teasing.
“Seven girls over seven years? How do you know? What has led you to this jump to conclusion? How come it hasn’t come up before now?”
“I think there has been a cover-up. I think some very powerful people are behind the cover-up and I think police personnel and the mayor’s office have contributed to it, too.”
“Shit, Storm, what are you getting us into?” Her shock registered but she had listened this far and he could tell she would let him go on before she made up her mind.
“Alisha, this is what I know.” Storm showed her the list of the seven girls in total including Leslie, whose bodies had been found near or on the grounds of the stadium.
“Each girl died of mysterious circumstances, each died by having their throats slashed.” Alisha nodded.
He told her about his meeting with the people from the Livestock Show and how the mayor’s rep has been there, as well. He told her about how Russell and a friend had researched all the girls deaths they could find from television archives and all of his suspicions. When he finished his recap, he again looked her directly in the eyes. It was her turn to talk, to join him or walk away.
“OK, if I’m in this, what do you want from me?” asked Alisha, still sounding uncertain as to what she could add.
“You now have the list of the six more girls’ names. These would have all happened before you got hired. I want you to pull the files on them to see if you can find anything that connects them. This has to stay on the down low and you have to do this without the director or anyone knowing about it. If we get found out by anyone not only will we all be screwed, but I feel these murders will stay covered up. And Alisha, I promise, if we break this, you get credit,” added Storm.
“Bite me, Storm. I don’t give a shit about credit. If one guy or a gang did this, I want’ em; fuck the credit.”
Storm just smiled. He handed her a copy the list of names Russell and Grady had given him. He put his finger to his lips, making the sign that said, “Shush.” That’s all he knew he had to do—Alisha would do the rest. He then waved goodbye.
Storm had been thinking all day about one more recruit to enlist to the team. He thought he knew who he could trust and who he couldn’t. Inside the department he came up with a big goose egg, that is with the exception of the man he was going to see next.
Returning to Reisner Street, he saw Sergeant Hernandez sitting at his desk shuffling papers for the lieutenant. Busy work occupied much of Hernandez’s days and Storm knew Hernandez was bored to death. Hernandez was a street cop and a good one, and by now he would have been a detective if he hadn’t been hurt. He needed Hernandez in the group to do some research on serial killers and look for files on his list of girls in police archives. He needed Hernandez to pull the unsolved case files on these girls and see if any connections could be made between them, much as he had asked Alisha to do. Hernandez could do the research on the computer and no one would be the wiser. To Storm’s knowledge, Houston had never had a serial killer before, but he knew theory, profiles, and documentation would exist in the FBI files and that there had to be background on what led people like Ted Bundy, Jeffery Dahmer, and John Wayne Gacy to commit some of the most heinous crimes in last century.
Storm was convinced the team he was assembling had only a short time to digest as much as they could that might lead them to a killer. He needed Hernandez to round it out. He caught Hernandez’s attention and motioned him to follow him, disappearing around the corner toward the coffee room. Hernandez got up and followed him.
Chapter Thirteen
A Team Comes Together
Storm returned home again after dark, but this time, no angst or melancholy accompanied him. In the past years he would have simply bought himself a bottle of Jack, drunk himself into a coma and woken up the next morning with a bad hangover and absolutely no direction in his life. Tonight he had other things on his mind and sleep evaded him, but this was no call for a drink. His mind sought answers to tough questions even though some of those answers might scare him. He scrawled the questions on a yellow note pad:
1. Why was this girl killed?
2. Why was she singled out? What did she have in common with the other girls we’ve found records on?
3. What kind of person kills attractive young women?
4. Why is the mayor’s office involved at all, let alone having a spy at his meeting with the Show’s people?
5. What does Hebert know? Why isn’t he sharing it?
He thought a minute and then added the most disturbing question of all:
6. Do we have a serial murderer hunting in Houston????
He had put his covert plan in motion and now there would be no going back. He had talked to Russell and planned a meeting with his co-conspirators for the next morning at Russell’s condo. It was a place they could meet without fear of being seen or overheard. Nobody knew of his relationship with the group and it needed to stay that way.
* * * *
Russell had eagerly agreed to the meeting for the next morning, and although 9:00 AM was a little early for him, this mystery and solving the girls’ murders had become more important. Russell’s anticipation also was mounting and he was anxious to know who besides Grady and Storm would show up in the morning. Nobody from the station would know or care that Grady had gone to his place to help him with something, but what about the others? How were they involved and why? Guess I’ll just have to wait until tomorrow morning, he realized.
Russell was up at 7:00 AM—an hour he hadn’t seen in years. He had had trouble sleeping, but his lack of sleep had come from excitement. He had purpose for the first time in a coon’s age. No long night out in a local watering hole, no waking up with who knows who in his bed and not caring, except for when she left. He and Storm were working on something together, something important, a mystery he wanted to solve.
* * * *
Storm arrived at Russell’s at about 8:30 AM; it was an easy drive that time of day since it was against the flow of the ghastly lines of commuters all traveling in the opposite direction going to work. The guest parking at Russell’s building was wide open and the doorman just waved to Storm as he entered the building. Seeing him reminded Storm that he needed to tell Russell to put together a story for the doorman to cover any suspicious activity the next few days. He didn’t know how long or how many meetings they would have to have, but he knew they were all in it now and they needed to keep it under wraps for as long as possible.
The coffee was already on when Storm walked in. Right behind him was Grady with a box full of files and tapes. Russell was prepared for the tapes and disks; he had the latest in flat screens and players.
When Alisha arrived she also carried a box stuffed with files. She had just been introduced to Russell and Grady and they had gathered around the dining room table when the doorbell rang again.
This time Storm answered it and invited Sergeant Hernandez in. Storm had left Hernandez with a decision to make the night before, and it looked as if he had taken him up on it. He, too, carried a large brief case overflowing with the files, all he could find on the girls without garnering any suspicion when he left the precinct.
Each of the five poured their coffee, doctored it up, and sat down. The mood was excruciatingly serious at the table when Storm started off. “Each of you has a piece to this puzzle and I trust all of you. This is not your normal investigation. This is something we all have to keep so quiet you could hear a cockroach fart.” He looked around the table, and everyone grinned in agreement. “Let me start with what we do know.”
Storm began to lay out the facts as they knew them:
“Fact # 1: On Sunday morning around 4:30 AM a young woman was foun
d dead in the trash dumpster outside the stadium by a cleaning person. By the way, that guy was freaked out and we can assume he had nothing to do with the crime.
“Fact # 2: Her throat had been cut and she bled out, but not in the dumpster; there was not enough blood there, so she had to be dumped there after she died.
“Fact # 3: Her clothes and purse were found later in yet another dumpster on the other side of building. Her clothes were bloody, so she had to have been killed while she was dressed, then stripped and abused.
“Fact # 4: She had had sex with someone prior to the killing; spermicide and semen were found in her vagina and on her panties, so she had put her panties back on after the first guy.”
Alisha piped in, “The girl had been molested after her death, as well. It’s important to note that the person who did that was most probably the killer; she had been anally abused postmortem, but no semen was found.”
Storm went on to tell them everything he knew about the murder and the girl. Around the table the shock of what they were hearing began to turn into disgust and rage. Not a person at the table was unaffected by what they were hearing.
“Now I want to go over my suspicions and what I base them on. Sergeant Hernandez was the first to give me a clue that there had been multiple murders in the Dome area, when he mentioned that I got another dead girl found at the Dome. It started me wondering about what he meant, so I got Russell involved and he brought in Grady to help me check old data at the station to see if they could find any references to other murders near or around the stadium grounds. They found reports of six girls having been found dead near the stadium or on the grounds; that makes one a year for the past seven years. All young, all pretty, and all unsolved.
“I recruited Alisha and Sergeant Hernandez to go through their files to see what they could find with the caveat that they had to keep their searches under the radar of their respective offices.” He looked at Alisha and Hernandez. “Since they are here, I have to assume they are with us and until we solve this, we all have to keep what we are doing secret. There could be a lot of heavyweight pressure come down on us if this leaks out, so we will only talk on safe phones and meet here at Russell’s till we figure this out. Russell, you wanna start?”
Charity Kills (A David Storm Mystery) Page 10