Mason Black (The Complete Collection): 6 Gripping Crime Stories: The Complete Collection + BONUS Story

by Adam Nicholls

  They were led into a large room where a thin man with a beer gut sat in awe. The young girl at his feet couldn’t have been any older than eight–just a touch younger than Ryan.

  ‘Who are you?’ the man asked, clearly terrified at the sight of the gun.

  ‘Just a man trying to teach his boy some new skills.’ The killer pointed the gun at the seat next to him and said to the woman, ‘Sit.’

  The woman obeyed, and the girl climbed off the floor and into the man’s lap.

  ‘And what’s your name, little girl?’

  The man protectively wrapped his arms around his daughter. ‘That’s none of your–’

  The killer fired the gun at a cushion, and everybody in the room jumped. This was power in his hands, and he would use it to get what he wanted. If anybody wanted to get in his way, that was their own problem. ‘I was asking the girl, not you.’

  Quietly, the girl spoke up. ‘Th-Thea.’

  ‘Well now,’ the killer said, moving the gun between both the parents, ‘isn’t that a pretty name? Thea, why don’t you come and stand over with me and little Ryan here? You’ll find it’s much, much safer to be on this side of the gun.’

  ‘Please don’t hurt my family.’ The woman began to cry, shaking her head.

  How pitiful.

  ‘I’m not going to do anything. Thea–here, now.’ He snapped his fingers.

  ‘It’s all right, baby,’ the man said, slowly encouraging her to move.

  Frigidly, she slid off his lap and stumbled slowly across the living room.

  The killer got down on a knee. ‘Thea, sweetheart. How old are you?’

  ‘Eight.’ And still shaking terribly.

  ‘Eight! You’re a big girl then, huh? Tell me, do you love your mom and dad?’

  Thea nodded, looking down at her shoe.

  ‘Yeah, I bet you do,’ he said softly. ‘Who do you prefer?’

  ‘Please, don’t,’ the woman whimpered, now shuffling into her man’s arms.

  ‘It’s all right,’ the killer provoked her. ‘Come, whisper it in my ear. I won’t tell.’

  Timidly, Thea stepped forward and leaned into the killer’s ear, whispering as softly as she possibly could. The killer found this amusing–everybody had a favourite parent, just as every parent had a favourite child. They just didn’t like to admit it.

  ‘Mommy?’ he yelled her secret excitedly. ‘You prefer Mommy?’ And with a slight jerk of the hand, he aimed the gun at the woman and squeezed the trigger. When the bullet exploded from the barrel and her face froze in shock, she looked down at the pool of red growing at her gut.

  ‘You son of a bitch!’ The man leapt to his feet, tears appearing at his eyes. He had reacted even stronger than his daughter, who only sobbed quietly to herself.

  ‘Sit the fuck down,’ said the killer. ‘Right now, or I’ll make this very painful for you.’

  The man hesitated, then sat beside his dead wife.

  ‘Ryan, you’re up.’

  The boy shuffled forward, also shaking, but undoubtedly vulnerable by now.

  Laughing, the killer handed the gun to him, placing it in his four-fingered hand. ‘You want to feel that power? It’s easy. You have the power in your hand, therefore you are the power. You see what we did here tonight? I bet this man would do anything to make sure his daughter is safe.’

  Ryan looked thoughtful.

  ‘Go ahead, ask him.’

  He stared at the floor, trying to think of something to say, then looked up, pointing the gun at the crying man, whose life had been destroyed only moments ago. ‘Poke yourself in the eye,’ Ryan said, but made it sound like a question.

  ‘W-What?’

  ‘You heard the boy,’ said the killer. ‘Do as you’re told.’

  Stubbornly, the man lifted a quivering finger in front of his face, then jammed it into his eye. He immediately cursed and held at his face.

  Ryan began to laugh hysterically. ‘That’s funny!’

  ‘That’s right,’ the killer told him. ‘And you made him do it by coming here with me and holding the gun. What does that mean?’

  ‘Hmm. That I’m… smart?

  ‘Exactly!’ The killer clapped for him, taking his hands off Thea for only an instant. ‘Now, shoot the man or I’ll shoot you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me. You said you could kill to protect yourself. I’m telling you now that you’ll die if you don’t kill this man.’ And I might just be walking out of here alone.

  Ryan made a sound that kids do when they’re terrified. ‘I don’t think that I can.’

  ‘Oh, sure you can, boy. Just point and shoot. Pretend he’s your daddy. Remember him? The one who kept making you feel stupid? The one who kept telling you that you’re nothing compared to your bitch sister?’ He knelt, leaning close to the boy’s ear. ‘The daddy who isn’t even looking for you? Pretend this is him, and let him know how you feel.’

  ‘You’re a fucking bastard!’ Ryan screamed at the man through gritted teeth. ‘I hate you!’

  ‘Again,’ the killer demanded. ‘Tell him again.’

  ‘I hate you! I hate you!’

  ‘Shoot him!’

  The gun went off in the boy’s hand, then dropped to the floor with a clunk. The girl screamed at the deafening bang and tried to run, but the killer held her shoulder tighter.

  ‘Yes!’ He hadn’t expected the boy to cave in so soon, but it was beautiful.

  ‘What did I do?’ Ryan asked, falling with his back to the wall.

  ‘You showed your true strength, boy. But the real question is, what to do with little Thea? What do you think, hmm?’

  The girl wriggled and struggled, trying to escape the killer’s grasp.

  With tears in his eyes, Ryan looked at her thoughtfully, then gave his decision.

  49

  Mason headed up the path with Evie at his side and the revolver in his pocket.

  ‘You sure this is the right place? It looks… too neat.’

  Mason looked at the china gnomes across the lawn and the water feature, which stood proudly in the centre of the grass. She might be right, he thought, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be careful.

  They knocked on the door, with Mason keeping his finger coiled around the trigger.

  ‘Just let me do the talking,’ Evie told him.

  An elderly woman opened the door, surprising them both. She was short, with grey hair and purple-rimmed glasses. Were it not for her confusion at the serious-looking couple on her doorstep, she might have seemed more welcoming. ‘Yes?’

  Evie paused. ‘I’m sorry, we were expecting a man.’

  ‘Last I checked, dear, I was all woman.’

  Mason took over, handing out a picture of the killer. ‘Do you recognise this man? His RV has been linked to this address.’

  The woman shook her head. ‘Oh, dear. What has he been up to now?’

  ‘So you do know him,’ Evie said.

  ‘Perhaps you had better come in.’ The woman opened up the door and allowed them entry. She showed them into the living room where far too many cats ran around freely.

  Mason clutched the gun, still untrusting.

  ‘I’m afraid the man you’re looking for is my son,’ she said, as if revealing a dirty secret.

  Her son? It wasn’t exactly what they’d been looking for, but it sure was better than nothing. He looked at Evie, who seemed as surprised as he was, then back at the woman. ‘Could we please take his full name, age, and anything else you can dig up?’

  ‘If you tell me what this is about, dear, you can have anything you like.’

  ‘We’re investigating a series of murders, and have reason to believe that your son is involved somehow. We’d just like to ask him a few questions,’ Mason lied.

  The woman looked horrified. ‘My son?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘I always worried that something like this might happen. Hold on a moment.’ She disappeared from the room, leaving Mason
and Evie to catch their breath. She soon returned with papers, handing them straight over. ‘Just a few things I could find.’

  Mason flicked through them, handing some over to Evie. There was so much of use here. Wage slips from hardware stores dating back to a couple years ago, Social Security numbers, phone bills and the like. Even a name: Marvin Wendell. It was very valuable information, but it wasn’t a set of handcuffs over the killer’s wrists.

  ‘I just wish I could be more help,’ Mrs Wendell said.

  ‘When was the last time you saw your son?’ Mason asked, looking up at her.

  ‘Oh, not for some years now. He never really liked me much.’

  ‘Why’s that, Mrs Wendell?’

  She gazed out of the window, as if struggling to recall. ‘He was a very… angry boy. Ya see… I once had a man in my life who was very firm with him. I remember he once chased my son through the house. My little Marvin tried to hide behind a door when my boyfriend swung it open. Took his whole finger off.’ She wiggled her pinkie finger. ‘I think he always blamed me for that.’

  ‘This is our guy,’ Mason said excitedly, and Evie nodded along with him. It’s really him. And that would explain the mutilation, he thought. Was probably the reason he always wore gloves, too. ‘Mrs Wendell, could I perhaps have a glass of water?’

  The woman nodded, but looked as if she’d grown tired of this conversation already. As soon as she left the room, Mason stood and opened a nearby drawer, rummaging through it. There was nothing of use.

  ‘I can’t believe we’ve identified him,’ Evie said, looking around the room behind him. ‘It seems too good to be true, after all these years.’

  ‘I’m glad you think so, too.’ Mason kept looking around until he saw the photo frame on a high shelf. He took it down and studied it. The picture showed a bearded man in his early twenties with a missing finger. He was standing next to a slightly younger version of his mother. ‘Looks like the same guy.’

  Evie came up behind him and took the photo.

  ‘Looks like we have everything except a last known location,’ he said without looking back. ‘What do you think?’ But when Mason turned, he saw the horrified look that he’d only seen from his sister a handful of times. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Mason…’ She looked up from the photograph. ‘I know this man.’

  50

  ‘Okay, pull in here,’ Evie guided him from the passenger seat.

  ‘Care to explain why you’ve brought me to this shit hole?’ Mason stopped the car and climbed out, following his sister towards a run-down old building.

  ‘A few years ago, I was moonlighting for a magazine that barely made it off the ground. I used to collect information, but now and then I had to sit in on some interviews.’

  Mason held the office door for her. ‘That’s how you know this Marvin guy?’

  ‘Exactly. I didn’t recognise the newer pictures, as he’s not aged well. And that beard…’

  Inside the narrow corridor, they walked to the front desk where a stocky man with no hair slowly rose to his feet. ‘If I be goddamned. That ain’t Evelyn Black? It couldn’t be.’

  ‘Hi, Geoff.’ Evie hugged the man, stepped back and introduced her brother.

  ‘A private investigator?’ he asked, sounding impressed, although it was probably just a case of good manners. ‘And what brings you back to the seventh circle of hell?’

  ‘I need a favour, actually,’ Evie explained, showing him the photo they’d stolen from Mrs Wendell when she wasn’t looking. ‘Do you remember when we interviewed this guy? I think he was after the Key Researcher job, if I remember correctly.’

  ‘Remember him? Sweet thing, I still see him.’

  ‘You do?’ Evie seemed surprised.

  Mason hung back. It seemed as though she had this one covered. He was beginning to think that it had been a good move after all–deciding to help each other out.

  ‘That’s right. We didn’t give him the job, but he keeps coming back here and asking if we have some information on a string of murders or something.’ Geoff rubbed at his beard.

  ‘The Lullaby Killer?’

  ‘That’s the one!’ said Geoff. ‘I had no idea what he was talking about until I Googled it. Seemed like something I was better off not knowing about.’

  ‘A reporter with a conscience,’ Evie jested.

  ‘Still a comedienne, I see.’

  Evie smiled. ‘Do you know where we might find him?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. Well, actually…’ The man seemed awkward, glancing at Mason. ‘I, uh… a friend of mine says he saw him over at Keira’s once or twice. It might be worth poking around there, so to speak.’

  ‘Who’s Keira?’

  ‘Keira’s,’ Mason corrected, pushing himself away from the wall with his elbows. ‘It’s a strip club. Geoff, thank you for your time. And offer our gratitude to your friend.’ He gave a playful wink and headed for the door.

  Evie said goodbye and caught up to Mason, almost being pushed aside by a goofy teenager bursting in from outside.

  ‘It’s that killer I said about, Geoff!’ the teen urgently yelled across the hall.

  Mason and Evie stopped, listening in.

  ‘I told you to let that go,’ Geoff said angrily.

  ‘But he’s struck again! Some public display over on Cadwallader Street’.

  Mason looked at Evie and saw his own panic reflected in her eyes. Together, they ran to the Mustang and climbed in, determined not to miss a beat.

  51

  ‘I’ll be here if you need me.’

  Mason left Evie in the car and pushed his way through the mass of curious bystanders. They all seemed to be testing how long they could look at it before their gag reflexes kicked in, but Mason was yet to understand exactly what it was they were looking at.

  When he finally got to the front of the crowd, his heart sank into his stomach.

  The front window had the drapes drawn two-thirds of the way, and in the middle hung a young girl’s body. Her legs dangled motionlessly with the light behind her, and her eyes were open and full of pain.

  ‘Jesus.’ Mason ducked under the police tape and showed his badge to a nearby officer.

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t let you in,’ he said with his palm as a barricade.

  What the hell? ‘Step aside, officer, or I’ll break every bone in that hand.’

  The officer’s eyes narrowed. ‘What did you just say to me?’

  ‘I said step aside or–’

  ‘Mason!’ Bill stepped out of the house and came over. ‘You just saved me a phone call. Come on in.’ He appeared not to have noticed the hostile exchange.

  ‘Next time,’ Mason whispered to the officer as he passed, and headed inside, where Captain Cox was barking orders at a swarm of forensics staff. When she laid eyes on Mason, she offered the smallest of courtesy smiles.

  ‘Over here.’ Bill led him to the nearest wall, where something had been etched in blood.

  ‘Surprised you didn’t draw the drapes. You’re putting on quite a display there.’

  ‘Cap doesn’t want anything touched until forensics are done on the scene. It’s not what I would have done, but we have to follow the rules.’

  Mason, trying not to let his curious eye sway towards the hanging girl, followed Bill and looked directly at the wall. He mouthed the words as he read what was inscribed in blood: OFTEN THROUGH MY CURTAINS PEEP.

  ‘Twinkle, Twinkle?’ Bill asked, beating him to the punch.

  ‘Right.’ Mason knew he shouldn’t have done it, but it was a necessity. He looked at the girl’s hand for confirmation that this was the Lullaby Killer. When he saw a singular drop of blood leak from where the girl’s finger had once been, he thought of something.

  ‘Can I get a black light?’

  ‘You think–’

  ‘Please, Bill, it’s been a long day. Just get me a black light.’

  Bill whistled to a nearby techie and made the request. It wasn’t long before Ma
son was turning it on and holding it up against the text.

  ‘We know it’s her blood,’ said Bill. ‘We swabbed it already.’

  Mason shone the UV against the wall and looked all around the area. ‘But you didn’t see this, did you?’ He pointed at a small handprint on the wall. It was the size of a young child’s.

  ‘We missed that,’ Bill confessed with shame.

  ‘I don’t think it’s the girl’s.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  Mason demonstrated against the air. ‘I think somebody else did this, leaning into the wall while they wrote with the severed finger. Check the prints, see if they match.’ Mason handed the black light over and took a few steps back. This guy is disgusting.

  But he had barely accepted what he’d seen before Captain Leanne Cox appeared at his side. ‘What do you make of the parents?’ she asked. She’d always respected his opinion, but he thought she might have a clue of her own by now. After all, she was the youngest person in San Francisco to ever have made it to Captain.

  ‘I haven’t spoken to them yet.’

  Cox screwed up her face. ‘Wait… you don’t know?’

  Mason shook his head, feeling like this was about to get a whole lot worse.

  The captain walked him to two nearby gurneys, unzipped the body bags and showed the faces of a young couple, one of which had a gunshot wound in the centre of his forehead.

  ‘These were found here?’ Mason leaned in close, keen to find some sort of explanation.

  ‘Right over there on the couch. Still think this is the Lullaby Killer?’

  ‘Without a doubt. I just… this isn’t like him. It’s as if he was rushed, or…’

  ‘Or what?’

  Mason was drowning out the sounds of everyone around him. It was the way he’d trained himself to make a scenario from a jumble of clues in order to reach a conclusion. Suddenly it twigged. ‘The boy.’

  ‘What?’ Bill and Captain Cox asked together.

  ‘It was the boy.’ Mason looked up, feeling even sicker than he had before. ‘I think Ryan Carter did this.’