88 Killer

by Oliver Stark

  ‘Will do.’

  Harper looked down at the brown-haired woman at their feet. ‘If the bullet and the boot polish match up, then I’m going to ask to take this over. Sorry to butt in like this.’

  ‘Reckon you might need to,’ said Selinas.

  ‘I’ll get Lafayette to square it with your squad.’

  Harper moved in and sat on the platform by the body. His mood changed. He wanted to reach out, put his hand on her, pull her out of that horrible painful position. Even though she was dead, you still empathized with the body. It still hurt to see it cold and in a position of pain.

  Why had the killer gone for Capske and now Marisa Cohen? Were they randomly chosen? What if Abby Goldenberg was linked somehow?

  Harper wasn’t sure. Even if Marisa Cohen was also the victim of some hate crime, David Capske hadn’t been. Or, Harper suddenly thought, he hadn’t reported it. The link was Leo Lukanov or someone connected to Lukanov. He called Eddie across.

  ‘Eddie, see if you can talk to Lucy Steller and any friends of David Capske. Ask about hate crime. Did he ever get targeted?’

  ‘I’ll get on to it,’ said Eddie.

  Harper looked at the hands again. The marks of someone thrashing about for freedom. The water must’ve been so damn cold. How long would a body last? An hour at most.

  Harper stood up. He turned to Eddie. ‘He was here for an hour, sitting by the water’s edge as she froze to death. Tell Crime Scene. He might have left something.’

  Harper looked down and shone a flashlight into the dark water. ‘Eddie, I don’t think she’s got a blouse on. Tell Selinas to keep a look out.’ Harper leaned out further and tried to peer through the water. The woman’s bra was dark against her white skin. He felt intrusive, like a voyeur, but he leaned in closely. ‘Come on, you bastard, what were you doing? Did you tattoo her too?’

  Harper walked along the sea front, trying to locate the position the killer would have watched from. He knew that the killer liked the excitement of getting seen, so he presumed he’d sit somewhere he could see the floating body and the road. Harper moved right to the edge of the platform, out to the last raised post. He knelt and looked. It didn’t take long. This killer wasn’t hiding his mark. There it was, a small, neatly carved 88 on top of the post.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Interrogation Room, North Manhattan Homicide

  March 9, 8.41 p.m.

  Harper sat with Blue Team watching Garcia interrogate Lukanov. ‘It’s not him,’ said Harper. ‘He might be a little cog in this wheel, but he was in here when Marisa Cohen was killed.’

  ‘How tight is the link?’

  ‘I followed the body to the morgue. Dr Pense looked it over. Three similarities. The boot polish, the same caliber bullet with a close head-shot, and she had something tattooed on her chest.’

  ‘What was it?’

  ‘88.’

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘And then something indecipherable.’

  ‘No idea what it says?’

  ‘We don’t know yet, but it’s our guy.’

  ‘So Lukanov is out of the picture.’

  ‘For now,’ said Harper. ‘Denise is working on this new information. She says that the writing on the corpse is important to him. He does it before they’re dead. It might dehumanize them.’

  ‘What about Esther? Did she have a number on her?’

  ‘No, there’s no record of it. I’ve got the autopsy photographs coming across, so we’ll have a look ourselves. Seems that they ignored the overkill once they had evidence linking this mugger to the crime.’

  They looked through the two-way. Garcia slapped the table and stood up. A moment later, he appeared in the observation room.

  ‘He’s trained,’ said Garcia. ‘No other explanation. They’ve trained him. I’ve seen it before. No answer is the only answer. Or else you just tie yourself in knots. Martin Heming is their lead, right? He might have a military background. We should check it out, find out what we’re up against.’

  Harper looked across. ‘You’ve got no subtlety, that’s the problem.’

  ‘Fuck you,’ said Garcia. ‘You going to do better?’

  Harper went to the wall and picked up a big file of information. ‘The game has changed. If Lukanov didn’t do it, then we need information from him, not a confession. Information needs a different approach. I got a lot of background on this Leo Lukanov from Eddie and you guys. We got plenty of stuff on him. Let’s draw him out.’

  Harper stood at the door of the interrogation room and stared at the sad figure before him. He sat opposite the big man as Eddie slipped in behind and leaned against the wall. ‘You remember me?’ said Harper.

  There was no response. Harper nodded. ‘You fought well in the alley. Hit me hard. You got the build. Could be a fighter if you put your mind to it.’

  Leo Lukanov continued to stare at the table. Harper pushed a packet of cigarettes across to him. ‘Take one. You’ve had a tough night.’ Harper paused. ‘They set us up when we’re useful, then abandon us, don’t they? This is what they do.’

  Lukanov looked up. Harper caught his eye. ‘I’m talking about bosses. People in charge. People who think they know better. You know the kind of people I’m talking about, Leo. People with all the orders – but you know what? Where are they when the shit hits the fan? Where are they, Leo?’

  Lukanov reached out and took a cigarette. Harper waited. He needed the man to engage. Harper withheld the matches and stared up at the wall. Finally, Leo looked up. ‘You got a light?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Harper. He leaned forward and struck a match. Lukanov dragged hard on the cigarette.

  ‘People like you are in the front line. You’re taking all the risks, while someone sitting back there is drinking a cold one. I tell you something, Leo, if I could have my way, I’d get rid of bosses and orders. The reason they give orders is because they’re too scared to do the job themselves. Look at this. Will you take a fucking look at it.’

  Leo looked up, as Harper flicked through a sheaf of paper. ‘You know what this is? This is paperwork. They want us to go out and risk our necks and they want fucking paperwork.’

  ‘It’s bullshit,’ said Leo.

  ‘It is bullshit. But if I don’t do it, I get canned. You don’t follow orders, what do they do? Smash your car? Beatings?’

  Leo turned his head away.

  ‘I know about the beatings, Leo, and the threats – they told me.’ Harper watched. It was a bluff, but not a big one. ‘Think about this, Leo. When you joined up, did they ever tell you that they wanted a fall guy, someone to go down, while they escape? I bet they didn’t sell it like that, did they?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Let’s just complete this paperwork and get you out of here. Far as I can see, you didn’t lay a finger on anyone until things got intense. You hit me, but you could argue you didn’t know who the fuck I was. I didn’t show any ID, right?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Any lawyer with half a brain could get you off. So let’s just get this done right now.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Ticking boxes, Leo, that’s all I’m doing. I’m a trained fucking box ticker. You think cops are thick? Now you know why.’

  Leo laughed.

  ‘That’s right, Leo. We’re a bunch of sheep. No one’s independent. No one’s operating from personal integrity. I bet it feels like that with you, doesn’t it? You don’t call the shots any more.’

  ‘I just get told.’

  ‘That’s right, you get told, like you’re some fucking ninth-grader. Tell them to go fuck themselves, Leo.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You’re taking this shit because some asshole told you to do something you didn’t choose yourself. I tell you, I bet if you’d done it yourself you wouldn’t have got caught, either.’

  ‘No damn way.’

  ‘Let’s get ticking,’ said Harper. ‘Then you can go focus all that energy on something worthwhile. Make som
ething of yourself while you can. You’re still young.’

  Leo Lukanov’s head nodded a little. Harper looked at him. Lukanov was listening. Harper was trying to feed him a story, a way to understand his behavior, then he wanted to give him a door. The door would come later; first, you had to prime people. He continued, ‘We all get angry, Leo, but you don’t want to spend your life in jail. It’s a shit place to be. You don’t want that. So here we go.’

  Harper spent ten minutes going through all the information he already knew. Age, date of birth, conviction records, alias, known associates. Leo just agreed as things progressed.

  ‘Okay, next question. What’s the name of the other guys you were with?’

  ‘I’m not giving no names.’

  ‘Shit, Leo, I’m trying to get you off here. I’ve got the fucking names written right here. Look!’ Harper showed Leo the three names. ‘I got all this information. We’re just signing it off to please the Captain.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘So again, who were the three guys you were with in the alleyway?’

  ‘Ray Hicks, Tommy Ocks, Paddy Ellery.’

  ‘Right, we’ve finished another page. Well done. We’re nearly there. Okay, now this bit is tough. We need to know how to explain the barbed wire, or else you’re going to go down for the murder of David Capske.’

  ‘I didn’t kill David Capske.’

  ‘I know that – you know that – but my guys upstairs want to pin it on you. Your guys out there are pinning it on you. They’re all just looking out for themselves.’

  ‘No, they’re not,’ he said. ‘Not my guys.’

  Harper opened the file. ‘Oh no, big man? Well, in that case, they didn’t tell us that it was you who received the black card for the Denise Levene attack. Yeah, Leo, that’s what they said. That’s how the operation works. Your so-called buddies told us. The lead guy gives out a black card with a name on and you do the person on the card. Is that right?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Leo.

  ‘So, as far as this goes, I got to say here who was the lead. At the moment it was you. As far as your guys are concerned, it was you. If you’re the lead, Leo, then this looks ten times worse. If you’re the lead on this operation and it’s premeditated, that’s a very serious fucking crime. The lead is responsible. So, Leo, let’s check this box. You weren’t the lead, were you?’

  He shook his head. ‘No, I wasn’t the lead.’

  ‘That’s right, Leo, you weren’t the lead. Smart boy.’

  Lukanov swiveled in his seat and dragged on the cigarette.

  ‘Next up, who’s the lead?’

  ‘Fuck you.’

  ‘If it’s not you, it’s got to be someone. Just give a name, Leo. The name of the guy.’

  ‘There is no guy. I got the card. The card just comes.’

  ‘Fuck that. No one goes and fucks people over for a card through the mail.’

  Lukanov breathed deeply. Harper shifted in his chair. ‘I just need to get this signed off. The thing is, Lukanov, I’m in a hurry.’

  ‘I got all the time in the world.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘I got nothing on.’

  ‘Eddie, give me an update.’

  ‘She’s already been found. The media are all over her.’

  ‘You need to go home, son,’ said Harper.

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Leo. ‘Who’s been found?’

  ‘Media got your name, Leo. We tried to keep it quiet, but the Capske thing is fucking major. I mean, everyone wants to know. So now your name’s out there. They’ve got your home address, Leo. And now they’ve found your mom’s address.’

  ‘What the hell does this have to do with her?’

  ‘The press don’t give a flying fuck for you or your mom.’

  ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

  ‘They’ll be hounding her, raking through her trash, searching records, speaking to neighbors, work colleagues, phoning, knocking, hour after hour. She’ll be a prisoner too, Leo. All on her own, I understand.’

  Leo rose; the handcuffs clinked taut. ‘Let me go.’

  ‘Give me the name, Leo.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Be a fucking man, you coward. Be a fucking man, for once. Look after your family, right? Your mom. Look after her, not some lowlife who set you up.’

  ‘What do you mean, set me up?’

  Harper tried his trump card. ‘I think this scumbag set you up. How the hell do you think we got to that alleyway? He set you off, then called us. He probably wants you to go down for the Capske murder.’

  ‘He fucking called you?’

  ‘He killed David Capske but he wants you to burn for it. He chose the barbed wire because you bought it.’

  Leo bent over and hit his head on the table. ‘I need to go see my mom.’

  ‘Leo, be smart. You let this asshole put this Capske killing on you and you’re the number one hate figure. Even if the evidence doesn’t stack up, by then, your mom’s life will be fucked to pieces. Her life is hell. They’re going to hunt her in packs until she tells them something. Then they’re going to hunt down your ex-girl friends, friends, brothers, sisters, until they’re painting ugly pictures of you all over. Fair trial? Not a chance. Unless you act smart and speak, you’re going down for stuff you didn’t even do, Leo. And in prison, they’re going to smash up a poor white racist like you.’

  Leo stared at Harper. He was breathing heavily. ‘You’ll let me go?’

  ‘I’ll do my absolute best. We’ll try to spring you and you can walk free, go see your mom. You’ve got to trust me, Leo. I don’t want you locked up in here, but you bought that barbed wire and that barbed wire killed David Capske.’

  ‘I give you a name, I walk?’

  ‘You give us what we need to nail Capske’s killer, and we make sure you’ve got a way out.’

  Leo paused. ‘I didn’t kill no one. We were building fences. That’s what the barbed wire was for.’

  ‘What fences?’

  ‘Upstate. At the compound.’

  ‘What compound?’

  ‘He bought five acres.’

  ‘Who bought it, Leo? They’re going to come in here in ten minutes, bag you up, shove you in a truck and send you off to the state penitentiary. They want someone for this, Leo. They don’t care who it is, they just want someone.’

  ‘We were fencing off our land.’

  ‘What land?’

  ‘We just want a place we can call our own. A white homeland.’

  ‘I want that name.’

  Leo Lukanov looked up. His eyes wide and open. ‘I get off? That’s for real?’

  ‘You get off the Capske murder. You walk.’

  Leo Lukanov stared at Harper. ‘What about protection?’

  ‘From whom?’

  ‘I just need to know. If he finds out, I need to know.’

  ‘Who, Leo? Give me his name and we’ll look after you.’

  Leo Lukanov twisted his hands into a hard knot. The fear was visible in his eyes. ‘Heming,’ said Leo. ‘Martin Heming.’

  Chapter Forty-Four

  North Manhattan Homicide

  March 9, 9.09 p.m.

  Harper sent out word to the team. They were hunting a man who went by the name of Martin Heming. He called Jack Carney with the same information. An hour later, Jack Carney turned up at North Manhattan Homicide carrying a box.

  ‘Jack,’ said Harper. ‘I didn’t expect a personal call.’

  ‘I needed to come, there’s so much shit on Heming.’

  ‘What have we got? Is he someone?’

  ‘We’ve got a pretty substantial file on him,’ said Carney. He dumped the box on Harper’s desk. ‘He’s a long-time agitator. A neo-Nazi. He’s got his own set-up – website, blog, pamphlets and publications. He even self-published a book called The Desire of the Will.’

  ‘What’s it about?’

  ‘Evolution, social science, politics, history. But in a nutshell, it’s about how bad the Jew
s are and why it’s true that they really are trying to destroy America.’

  ‘I get so angry at this stuff, Jack. This is hateful shit. How do you stand it?’

  ‘Same as you. We hate it, so we try to clean it up.’

  Harper nodded. ‘Associates?’

  ‘He’s clever, Heming. He seems to be in charge of operations but there’s no direct link. He’s been arrested a couple of times, but for low-level offenses.’

  ‘Addresses and haunts?’

  ‘Yeah, a couple of places he goes to, and the apartment in Crown Heights.’

  ‘Thanks for this, Jack, I appreciate it.’

  ‘Listen, Harper, it’s not all altruistic. I want to jump into bed with you on this one.’

  ‘Your knowledge is going to be useful. What are you after?’

  ‘You’re going to be getting to the heart of some of these neo-Nazi groups. This could crack open a lot of our cases. And we might be useful to you. I can put the Hate Crime team at your disposal.’

  Harper shook Carney’s hand. ‘Let’s find this sick bastard,’ he said.

  The teams went out searching for the leader of Section 88, Martin Heming. They tried all the known haunts and addresses. Everyone came up blanks. There was no question about it, Heming knew and had gone into hiding.

  Harper returned to his desk and received a report from Forest Park. They’d found blood on the bushes. Abby’s blood. Harper put the report down.

  His plan was simple, but dangerous. He walked to Lafayette’s office, thinking it through. The Captain beckoned him in.

  ‘Any news?’ said Lafayette.

  ‘Denise has gone across to see Dr Goldenberg. We found Abby’s blood on the bushes.’

  ‘What about this Heming guy?’

  ‘The thing is,’ said Harper, ‘we’ve got this guy on the run. He knows we’re chasing him. We’ve got his place under surveillance and all known haunts, but he’s gone. He’s going to be difficult to find.’

  ‘You think he might have gone out of state?’

  ‘Denise and I think that he’s still here, and that Abby is somewhere close. I think he needs this. He killed Marisa after we arrested four of Section 88.’

  ‘What are you suggesting, Harper?’