“So I popped the eyes out of the first woman I killed. I stabbed a screwdriver into the eardrum of my second kill—a man, just to change things up. But you? You’ll be number three. This makes you very important, I’ll have you know. My story doesn’t really add up without you.”
I slap her real hard in the face to make her listen when she starts all that screaming again. “So you see, I must make sure you speak no evil--” (again with the screaming!) “--then I’m going to cut your tongue out--”
I have to pause again until she exhausts herself with that infernal wailing and weeping. “To be perfectly honest with you…I picked the right person because your screaming is plucking my last fucking nerve!”
Those are the last words she hears before I shove the knife in, just between her third and fourth rib, ultimately piercing her heart. It kills her instantly, which was an unexpected show of mercy – mercy for me, not her. I couldn’t stand the noise for one more second.
With the death blow, I’ve succeeded in replicating Lance’s signature move once again. But taking her tongue? That’s all me. And that’s not even the best part. Now that she has finally shut the fuck up, my dick is good and ready.
Now for a little playtime, then on to the mind fuck...
Chapter Fifty One
Liam
Madonna sleeps as I consider the things we figured out last night about the man who calls himself Kikazaru. He’s referring to the Three Wise Monkeys, of course. Even though he’s obviously working with a theme for his kills, the guy’s all over the place. Serial killers are categorized in one of two ways: organized and disorganized. Somehow, this guy is managing to be both—an organized disorganized killer?! After I found out my brother was a serial killer, I spent hundreds of hours researching everything I could find on the subject. I just never thought I’d have occasion to put that knowledge to use.
Today’s the day I’m going to help the FBI find the man who has been eluding them. My plan is to sit down and talk to them in depth about everything that’s been going on. Of course I’ll leave out anything pertaining to Madonna’s abduction. I really didn’t want to get too involved in this shit after all I went through with my brother, but I can’t allow lives to be taken while I idly sit by and do nothing. I guess up until this point I needed proof, and then there’s that whole kidnapping Madonna thing. It wasn’t like I could inform the police about a serial killer while I had a woman caged in my basement.
Once I approach Agent Turner I’ll be opening the flood gates and there will no longer be any privacy in my world. I’m still not sure I can trust Madonna although in recent days we’ve forged a connection that goes far deeper than the circumstances that brought us together. But still…would she tell them I took her against her will? I’m counting on her to stand by me even though we didn’t get off to a conventional start—I hope I’m not deceiving myself. It will be my undoing if I am.
The doorbell interrupts my thoughts. Curiosity wins out so I throw on the sweats and t-shirt I had draped over a chair last night and walk to the front door. Just in case she’s awake, I call over my shoulder that I’ll be right back.
Agent Turner and his partner are standing on my doorstep, both assuming a stoic, professional stance. “Good to see you two, I was planning to call you later today.”
After nodding to his partner, who pulls out a pair of cuffs, Turner addresses me in a formal voice: “Doctor Liam Sheldon Chambers, you’re under arrest for first-degree murder…”
Madonna
“I’ll be back in a minute, babe.”
Though I’m groggy I peel my eyelids back to see Liam leave the room and head downstairs. I feel compelled to get up and follow him, so I pull on my robe and stand at the top of the stairs as he opens the door. I’m shocked to see Agent Turner standing there with his partner.
Hmm, maybe he called them early to have them meet him here so he can fill them in on his brother’s groupie. My jaw drops at Turner’s next words.
“Dr. Liam Sheldon Chambers, you’re under arrest for first-degree murder.”
“Wait a minute! What the hell is going on?!?” I yell as I charge down the steps.
“Stand back, Miss!” Agent Murphy rests her hand on her holstered weapon and I can see that the real side of the redhead is revealing itself now. I knew she was a sneaky bitch when I talked to her at the crime scene. All that moral, compassionate shit she portrayed was nothing more than a front to get me to talk.
Liam looks at me over his shoulder as they pull him down the front steps with Agent Murphy reciting the Miranda Rights. Liam appears to be in shock, but gathers his wits long enough to tell me to call his lawyer. “His name is John Jacobs. His number is in my rolodex on my desk.”
“I will, I will. Tell them what’s been going on, Liam, and I’ll have him down there within the hour.”
From nowhere his brother’s parting words come to mind: “You know, rumor has it they may have locked up the wrong brother. My brother and I look so much alike I’ve fucked his women…they never even knew…you could be living with a serial killer…”
If it’s true, do I still want to help him? I’m horrified to find myself debating it. How in the hell could I even consider helping a man who may or may not be a fucking serial killer? On the other hand, how in the hell could I not help the man who risked everything to save my life? I understand now that that’s what he did.
I push Lance’s words out of my mind. He said all that just to put doubt in my head about Liam and I refuse to give him the satisfaction of getting to me from where he sits behind bars.
Fuck Lance, fuck my stalker, and fuck the FBI; it’s time for me to put on my big girl panties and get Liam out of jail. The first thing I need to do is get in touch with his lawyer. Then I’m getting dressed and taking my ass downtown to support the only person who has ever been there for me.
The lawyer’s number is easy enough to find and I call him to let him know what’s happened. He assures me he’s headed downtown and that Liam knows to be quiet until he gets there. I realize the reason Liam knows so much about police interrogation is because he had an insider’s view of the investigation into his brother’s crimes. It doesn’t matter if it was his brother who was the bad guy. That sort of scandal always produces a cloud of suspicion in the court of public opinion.
Chapter Fifty Two
Liam
Agent Turner wastes no time letting me know why I’m here and I couldn’t be more shocked. He stands over me with one hand on the table as he tosses a photograph down in front of me. It’s a photo of a dead woman. She’s young and I find myself feeling sorry for her family, who will spend a lifetime coping with the emotional fallout of losing a daughter, a sister, a friend.
“Do you know this woman?”
“No, sir, I do not.”
“Well, I find that hard to believe since your DNA was left on her, or I guess I should say in her.”
He’s trying to rattle me. “That isn’t possible. I’m not sleeping with anyone but the woman I’m presently seeing—I believe you’ve met her already.”
“I’m telling you… Your. Semen. Was. Found. Inside. This. Woman. As identical twins, you and your brother share the same DNA, yes, but we’ve ruled him out because he’s spending his time under lock and key these days. That leaves you. Now just how do you explain that?”
This is not the same mild-mannered man I talked to in the hospital parking garage. He’s leaning forward aggressively, jabbing his finger in my face. I know how this goes: good cop is now bad cop. I also know losing my cool with him won’t help. I’m not going to give the son of a bitch the satisfaction of rattling me.
“I have nothing to explain, as I’ve already said. The only woman on the receiving end of my DNA is the woman I’m presently seeing.”
“Not another word, Liam.”
I recognize the stern voice of my lawyer as he walks in and sets his briefcase on the table. He’s the best of the best, but I wonder if even he can get me out of this
jam, being that the FBI appears to have DNA evidence. The one thing I have going for me is I’m no stranger to the legal system. This is most certainly not the first time my feet have been held to the fire.
“That’s fine,” Turner says as if he’s discussing the weather. “He doesn’t need to say anything, Mr. Jacobs. The evidence speaks for itself.”
Damn, this guy isn’t even intimidated by my hotshot attorney. Agent Turner is a man on a mission—and his mission is to convict me of first degree murder. For the first time since the questioning began, I feel a sense of uneasiness.
“I’d like a word alone with my client. You will, of course, turn off any cameras or audio feeds during this confidential meeting with my client.”
I’m just relieved to get a reprieve from the intense interrogation session. Neither agent says anything, they just turn toward the door, leaving me alone with my lawyer and the surveillance camera that’s pointed in my direction.
Even though I know the two agents are most likely standing in a room watching us on a remote video feed, I don’t care if they hear what I’m about to say. I’m well aware of client/lawyer confidentiality—I’m also well aware the FBI will do anything it takes to close a case when they believe they have their man. They’re convinced I’m a killer. The only ally I have right now is the man I’m paying to represent me. I’m not even convinced Madonna won’t tell them what I’ve done.
“I’m concerned about my girlfriend. I’m convinced the killer is after her. She started staying with me after this guy started stalking her. You already know my brother’s story. What you don’t know is that Lance had planned on her being his next victim. After he got locked up, he talked some copycat groupie into doing his dirty work.”
“So you’re saying this guy who is stalking her is the same guy who has been in the news for the last month?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. And if you don’t get me out of here he’s going to kill her. The man is living in my brother’s old home. Hell, the realtor couldn’t give the house away, nobody wanted to buy it – except him. He visits my brother regularly and I believe he’s been doing copycat killings. He’s the man known as Kikazaru.”
“Interesting. Well, that would explain a lot. I hope like hell you’re right, or you could very well end up sharing a cell with your brother.”
“Even from behind bars, my brother has managed to set me up.” I’m sure he’s delighted about his victory. The man lives to fuck with me. From behind bars he has not only manipulated me but the FBI as well. I’ll give the guy one thing: he’s smart. I listen to my lawyer, hoping he can offer some glimmer of hope.
“Well, I don’t know how he did it, but if what you’re saying is true, talking to those agents is the only way you’re going to get out of this.” He doesn’t give me time to answer, just goes over to the large mirrored wall and knocks on the glass.
Chapter Fifty Three
Madonna
Making the decision to come here alone hasn’t been an easy one, but as the old adage goes: desperate times… I know what I’m doing is crazy, but I really don’t have a choice.
Sitting alone in the visiting room, I feel like the walls of the tiny room are closing in on me. I know Liam would never agree to me coming to talk to his brother by myself but I really don’t know what else to do. I’ve even paid off the guard in an effort to have a shot at getting through to Lance without being overheard.
My mind drifts back to the words I wrote last night in desperation, trying to make sense of the madness that permeates my life lately:
I was born this way…
Born how, you say?
Born with the innate desire to root for the villain in the story.
Born with the need to understand the criminal mind and all the dark behavior that goes along with it.
Born with the desire to keep the things I write about real, even if it uncovers the hideous monsters obscured behind your white picket fences -- white picket fences you’ve so carefully constructed, hoping no one will see what goes on behind your suburban portals of perfection.
For you see…
I do not believe monsters exist only in haunted mansions and desolate graveyards; oh no…they walk among us.
So if I offend you with my words, written with a quill dipped in the bloodstained ink of truth, by all means turn your gaze of denial elsewhere…to that which you can withstand.
But know this…
I will never be silenced from writing about that which I know, that which I have lived.
I will always to my own self be true…
Because baby…I was born this way.
I shake my head to clear my thoughts as the heavy steel door opens. Its sinister sound of finality chases away any second thoughts I have about being here. The man who has the same face as my lover, and yet couldn’t be more different, sits down at the metal table. He eyes me with amusement. There’s no turning back now. I have no choice but to ask the man – the man who yearns to kill me -- for help.
“Well, well, what a surprise to see you here, and without my brother.” He leans across the table like he’s sharing a secret with me and continues, “Tell me, now… Are you scared?”
“To be honest with you, yes.”
Maybe I can outsmart this sociopath by getting him to trust me. A genuine smile touches his face. It’s obvious my fear pleases him. Maybe he’s more like his brother than I thought.
“It would seem you’re in quite the pickle, aren’t you, young lady?”
I don’t answer him right away, but focus on the fact that he has to be involved or he wouldn’t know I’m in a pickle.
“What have you done, Lance? What have you and this crazy stalker done?!?”
For a second he seems shocked by my frankness but quickly regains his composure. Had I not been watching him closely, I would have missed it. He continues talking as if I haven’t said a word.
“You’re going to have to kill him, you know. Now that my brother is in jail, my young protégé is going to come after you. Of course, I can tell you how to do it and get away with it if you’d like me to.”
He seems quite smug that he has the answer to all my problems—or so he thinks in his fucked up mind. Narcissistic doesn’t even begin to describe the ego on this guy.
“You had something to do with this! I know it!” I hiss through gritted teeth. Once again a smile spreads over his face and it irritates the shit out of me. How in the hell his brother deals with him is beyond me. No wonder Liam was reluctant about letting me accompany him here.
“Fine. Please do. Tell me how to get your puppet out of my life.” My voice drips with sarcasm. I’m through with being nice.
“Ooh, you are a little firecracker. It’s easy to see why my brother is so enamored with you.” He leans in and whispers like we’re besties sharing a secret, “You know…with his sexual issues and all. I can only speculate it’s more exciting to bring an alpha sub under control.” He cocks his head and narrows his eyes before murmuring, “Do you know what an alpha sub is, or has my brother not reached that stage of kink, er, training, with you yet?”
“I’m not his dog, Lance. I don’t need to be trained by Liam or anyone else, for that matter. I’m most certainly not here to talk about your brother’s sex life. If you care anything about your twin brother, you’ll tell me what the hell you’ve done!”
“My, my, no need to get testy. The first thing you need to do is sleep with a gun under your pillow—oh, and you should probably sleep with one eye open.” He chuckles at his little joke but I simply arch an eyebrow and nod for him to continue. He grimaces and rolls his eyes before getting into specifics, “He’ll come for you at night. He always kills at night—the darkness is a part of him. You must allow him to get into your house. If you hear him trying to get in, call the police and have the dispatcher stay on the line with you. Point the gun in his direction and tell him you have a gun and that you’ve called the police. Warning him with the police dispatcher as
a witness will ensure it’s seen as self-defense when you kill him. It won’t stop him, of course, but it will cover your ass if you manage to survive. As a woman, you’ll receive more compassion from the cops. And, truly, this is a case of kill or be killed. It’s him or you; that simple. You don’t have my brother to protect you anymore, you only have yourself.
“Go home, find my brother’s gun and do what you and I both know you must do. Look in his closet, that’s where most people keep their firearms and I’m sure Liam is just as predictable as he could possibly get.”
“Right, Lance…I’d be doing you a favor, wouldn’t I? You can’t control him anymore so you want him dead.”
I want to smack the overly innocent look off his face as he replies, “I’m only trying to be helpful.”
“We wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place if it wasn’t for you! This is nothing more than some elaborate mind fuck you’ve cooked up to keep your brother in your life.”
With no warning he jerks toward me and his eyes go ice cold. “Let’s not forget you’re in the equation.”
My hackles rise. He not only wants to control his brother, but me as well. He doesn’t give me time to answer, he just gets up and makes his way over to the large steel door.
“Guard…I’m ready.” He looks at me over his right shoulder and says to me, “This conversation is over. Don’t come back here until you do what you’re told.”
His Vigilance
Everything is working out perfectly. I watched her leave the house this morning and once again I have her looking over her shoulder in fear. She won’t have that hero of hers to rescue her this time. Did they actually believe I’d give up on my pursuit of her that easily? They’ve made the mistake of underestimating a madman—nothing could make me give up on killing the woman who has been the center of three men’s obsessions. It’s hard to believe one woman could cause this many problems, but she has and now she’ll pay.
Cellar Door Page 16