The Screaming Room jd-2

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The Screaming Room jd-2 Page 19

by Thomas O`Callaghan

“Which one is she?”

  Gribbens offered to introduce Driscoll, who declined, saying, “Just point her out,” which he did.

  Driscoll and Margaret approached the woman, who was clad in a red apron and was standing near the entrance to the store. She was a buxom blonde. Driscoll thought she resembled Billie Burke, the actress who played Glinda, the good witch in The Wizard of Oz. Her chest-high name tag, which seemed to jut itself forward as he drew near, read “Adeline.”

  Oh, boy! thought Margaret.

  “Is there anything in particular you two are here to purchase?” asked the woman, casting a gentle smile. “We’ve got fourteen aisles. Everybody gets lost. I’d gladly assist you to the correct one.”

  She even sounded like Billie Burke, with her whispery voice and gentle intonation, thought Driscoll.

  Oh, boy, oh, boy! thought Margaret.

  To the woman’s astonishment, Driscoll produced his shield and introduced himself. He didn’t introduce Aligante. This pleased the Sergeant. She let her shield do the talking and left it at that.

  “Silly me,” said Adeline. “Here I thought you were newlyweds looking for an entertainment center.”

  Margaret’s eyes crossed.

  “I’ll bet you’re here to see Rita,” the woman said, as though the thought just descended from a cloud.

  “That’s correct, ma’am. I’m told you know where she is.”

  “I did. But now I don’t.” The edges of her lips curled downward. Her eyes were fixed on Driscoll.

  “Well, Sweet Adeline, care to expound on that?” said Margaret.

  Driscoll sensed he was in the middle of a cross fire. The woman’s immediate response, a curt smile and the look of guile, confirmed that. Fearing an all-out cat fight, he took to the questioning.

  “When was it you last saw Miss Crenshaw?”

  “About fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Were all these policemen here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did anyone of them speak to you?”

  “Oh, yes. They asked the same question you did.”

  “And how did you respond?”

  “By explaining that Rita had stepped up the street to pick up some medication and that she’d be right back.”

  “And that was fifteen minutes ago.”

  “That’s right.” The little-girl look reappeared on her face. She shifted her feet. Driscoll was certain she was trying to get Margaret out of her field of vision.

  “And the thought never occurred to say anything to any of these officers?” Margaret asked, brusquely.

  “No,” she answered flatly, her eyes still fixed on Driscoll.

  Adeline’s attention was drawn to an anorexic-looking female dressed in a PC Haven apron. She checked her watch. “Sarah, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at lunch?”

  “I switched with Rita.”

  “What?”

  “She said she was going to tell ya.”

  Judging from the shock that filled Adeline’s face, Rita apparently hadn’t. Driscoll wondered why.

  “Great! Just great!” Margaret griped, throwing her arms in the air as she walked away.

  “Boy, oh boy, am I happy for you,” said Adeline.

  “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” Driscoll, though annoyed, didn’t see the benefit in blasting the airhead.

  “I had you two as newlyweds. Count your blessings.”

  Driscoll shook his head, did an about-face, and sought to speak with Sarah. He turned and asked a final question. “Does Rita have a cell phone and would you have the number?”

  The woman shook her head. Driscoll thanked her and headed off to locate Sarah.

  “If I give you my number, would you call me?” Adeline called out.

  Driscoll turned and looked at the woman. He said nothing but a host of emotions erupted. Being single is gonna take time getting used to, he thought.

  “Well,” said Adeline, “now that it turns out you’re not married to Miss Sunshine, and you’re not wearing a ring, I thought…maybe…”

  Driscoll smiled, but decided it’d be a better idea to find Sarah.

  Chapter 71

  Although the announcement over the store’s loudspeaker brought the young lady to Driscoll, Sarah wouldn’t have been hard to find. Not only did she appear anorexic but also her hair was filled with shocks of blue, and she sported rainbow suspenders. Cracking chewing gum added to her appeal.

  After a check of the industrial clock hanging above the store’s entrance, Sarah said, “She’s not due back for another thirty minutes.”

  “Would you know where Rita was headed?”

  “’Fraid not.”

  “Got her cell number?” Driscoll asked.

  “She doesn’t have a phone.”

  “Okay. Is there a particular luncheonette or coffee shop nearby that would be a usual spot for her?”

  “Not any I’d know about. She often buys a hot dog and a soda from Sam, though. He’s got an aluminum stand near the bus stop on Tenth.”

  “Would she bring it back here?”

  “Never seen her do that. She often heads for the library around the corner on Fifty-eighth. You’re not supposed to bring food in, but no one says anything. You might find her there. She’s got red hair and keeps the work bib on.”

  Chapter 72

  “May I see it?” Shewster asked, the limousine continuing its meandering cruise inside Central Park.

  As thoughts whirled inside Rita Crenshaw’s head, one of them being I’m gonna be riding behind my own chauffeur soon, she reached her pudgy paw inside an oversized bag and fished around. “I know I was instructed to bring it…oh, here it is…but for the life of me I don’t understand what for,” she said, handing Shewster a photocopy of the merchant’s portion of Angus’s notebook computer purchase receipt.

  “You just leave that to me,” he responded, eyeing the SKU item code and barcode displayed on the image, before stuffing it into his pocket, which he patted down.

  “Won’t the police need that?”

  “Yes, they will. It’s sure to help track down these murderous demons. We need it for our accountant. There’s quite a hefty reward involved, young lady,” he said with a smile.

  “I’ll say! I’ve already got it half spent!”

  “Do you, now?”

  “Oh, my God!” the girl gushed. “This is getting so real!”

  “Real it is, Rita. But there’s work ahead for the both of us. You see, your telling me all about your encounter, in the same detail I’m sure the police will require, will hopefully lead to the capture and conviction of these demons. Although I’d like to be in a position to give every caller with a concrete lead the windfall money. For there’s no denying it. I am rich. But let’s face it. We do get a lot of calls. So, it’s only fair that the money be disbursed after the devils are caught.”

  “I understand.”

  “Now, that doesn’t mean you stop dreaming about how you’ll spend the reward money, because your information has been the most promising. It’s sure to help with a conviction.”

  Rita felt like she had just lost her virginity to Brad Pitt. Move over, Angelina!

  “Now, tell me all about his visit to the store.”

  She took a deep breath.

  “I was stuffing reams of copy paper into one of our bags for a lady customer who had bought four, I think. Okay four copy papers, two bags of PC Haven rubber bands, a box of blue stick pens, and a box of professional letterhead with number-ten envelopes to match. She told me she was working on getting a book published. Said it’s not what you write that counts but who’s willing to read it. I wasn’t sure what she meant by that and was about to ask. But then I saw him.”

  “For the first time, right?”

  “Right. He was next in line. I didn’t get a good look but enough of one to tell me he was getting annoyed with all the time I was taking with the lady. What’s with the male species? Don’t they know we girls are chatty? Oops. Sorry. You’re one of the male species.
I didn’t mean-”

  “It’s okay. Go on.”

  “Anyway, when I got through with the lady, he plopped down the notebook computer on the counter. And right away says, ‘How much?’ Like I’m a freakin’ mathematician. There’s tax involved, ya know? So I scanned the box and the register came up with the answer. ‘One thousand six hundred and eighty-two dollars and ninety-eight cents.’ I said. He reached in the pocket of his jeans. I’m expecting a credit card. Seventeen hundred is a lotta money. That’s when I got a good look at him. Damn, I know this guy, goes off in my head. From where, I hadn’t a clue. So I really studied him. Who do I know wears retro black glasses? I think that pissed him off a little ’cause he made a face. A frightening face. Back away, Rita, back away, I said to myself. Now, no credit card. Cash. The guy fished out a wad of it. He took off the glasses and counted out seventeen hundred dollars. I really had a chance to study him. His eyes were on the cash. So I figured what the hell. Before I knew it, the sale was over. His notebook was bagged and he was headed for the door. I forgot to tell him about the rebate, but when I hollered out ‘Hey! Hey, you!’ he continued walking. A little faster, now. I wasn’t about to follow the guy outside, rebate or no rebate. He gave me the creeps. Oh, yeah. His money smelled like horse doo-doo.”

  “Horse manure?”

  “I thought so. Anyway, I was glad the guy was gone. But I still had the nagging feeling that I knew him. Then, wham! It hits me. The paper. The guy in the front-page picture! Me and the girls were reading about him before the store opened up. Believe me, a three-million-dollar jackpot attracts a lotta readers. I ran to the back room. Grabbed the paper and there he was. He didn’t look like the sketch so much, but damn, the photograph was dead-on. The only thing ya got wrong was the hair. Seein’ him close up, it looks jet black.”

  “What other distinguishing characeristics?”

  “No visible tattoos or scars. No accent. Old-is-new-again glasses. Baggy blue jeans, a striped red and green polo, gray running shoes, Nike, you think.” Rita glanced at her watch. “I gotta get back to the store.”

  “I’ll see to that.” Shewster hit the switch bringing down the privacy glass. “Eddie, Miss Crenshaw here needs to report back to work.”

  “Phew,” said Rita. “We sure covered all the bases. You really make a girl work for her money.”

  The privacy glass was still down. Befuddlement flooded Eddie’s face.

  Chapter 73

  Driscoll stepped outside the library. He hadn’t found her.

  On his trek there, he noted a few shops around the store she may have gone to. The Beanery on Tenth was a possibility. If she’s the library type, she’d probably like the atmosphere of a trendy coffee shop, he reasoned. It was also a type of place where someone wouldn’t feel uncomfortable eating alone.

  Driscoll checked his watch. Ten minutes to go. What the hell, it was on the way back.

  The Beanery was just as he imagined. A crowd of people, median age being about twenty-five, was sitting at small tables sipping a variety beverages; some eating lunch. A refrigerated display offered an array of pastry items along with an assortment of salads and sandwiches.

  Driscoll didn’t know if it was a chain. It reminded him of a Dean amp; DeLuca on University, north of Washington Square Park.

  A quick scan revealed no one clad in PC Haven red. And the only person with red hair was male.

  She was due back soon. Although he could have used a quick bite, he needed to head for the store.

  His cell phone sounded as he was about to exit.

  “Driscoll, here.”

  The voice of Lieutenant Matthew White at NYPD’s Computer Investigation and Tech Unit sounded in his ear. This must be important. He took a seat at an empty table, listening to what White had to say.

  “We got inside the four hard drives, Lieutenant. Those belonging to the German and Chinese victims that had been forwarded to us from Interpol along with the two from our stateside departed. We’re gonna dig deeper, but I wanted to let you know we got in and give you a heads-up on where we’re at. We had to have a translator involved. That slowed us down a bit. I’ll start with the overseas drives. They tried to erase the histories of Web sites visited, but their Favorites lists offer a quick link to the twin’s TwoNaughtyFreaks Web site. There doesn’t appear to be any way for contact online. The twins have a phone number, 858-734-6523, flashing across the top of the site in red. I suppose that’s how they’re hooking up?”

  “You got it. They’re using a disposable.”

  “Sex trafficking in the twenty-first century.”

  “We show them having links to a number of Asian and European online outlets that offer all sorts of sexual enhancement gadgetry. We’re talkin’ some really weird stuff. Redefines kinky. No records of any purchases, though.”

  “I’m sure that if they bought anything they’d pay cash at a retailer. They probably did their window-shopping online. These two have handles?”

  “HankySpankyOne and LazyOldFreak.”

  “Original,” said the Lieutenant.

  “Moving on to Francis Palmer. He was a big fan of freshwater fly fishing, according to the Web sites he frequented. His Favorites List supports that too. He paid his bills through South Texas online banking. He did a fair amount of shopping over the Internet. Had accounts at Amazon, Best Buy, and a number of others that appear innocuous enough. We’ll know more when we get a complete list of his purchases. Mr. Palmer did have a flip side.”

  Driscoll leaned his head forward as though his action would raise the volume. Perhaps he’d been wrong about a Web site designer knowing how to cover his ass. Or the guy could have been plain stupid.

  “Seems Palmer made room on his Favorites List for other pleasures. He was a big fan of Nero. Not Nero Wolfe, mind you. Nero, as in Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, aka, emperor of Rome. And from the looks of what Palmer tapped into, Nero had a passion for orgies. According to his findings, at Nero’s first-century hothouse, nothing was off-limits. Didn’t matter if you were heterosexual, bi-sexual, or had a hankering for the younger set, which is where the emperor reportedly leaned. Palmer was fixated on a figure from Greek mythology. Priapus, to his friends. A well-hung fertility god. Here’s Priapus talking. Palmer had highlighted it in red. ‘I warn you, my lad, you will be sodomized; you, my girl, I shall futter; for the thief who is bearded, a third punishment remains. If I do seize you, you shall be so stretched that you will think your anus never had any wrinkles.”

  “Quite a guy.”

  “Palmer?”

  “Priapus.”

  “You ready for Palmer’s handle?”

  “Ready.”

  “AwwShucks.”

  Margaret said we’d find him in Disney. “AwwShucks as in Winnie the Pooh land?”

  “’Fraid I’m not much of a fan of the Pooh Man. That Barney guy neither. On to the USA. I’m sorry to report that Miss Shewster wasn’t much of a computer fan. No collection of hero worship like Palmer. There was an unopened e-mail in her mailbox. It was from her father. He wanted to know if she needed money, how things were going in therapy, and if she was still going to the meetings. Made me wonder if she was in some sort of recovery program.”

  “She shoulda been.”

  “Not much else. No frequent visits to any particular dotcom. And a very short list of favorites. Three. Victoria’s Secret. Tiffany amp; Company. I’ll let you tell me which site held the third spot.”

  “TwoNaughtyFreaks.”

  “On the mark as usual, Lieutenant.”

  “Make my day. Tell me Abigail Shewster had an exotic Internet handle.”

  “Not by my definition of exotic. It was GwennyPenny.”

  Driscoll ended the call, checked his watch, and was about to exit the cafe when his beeper sounded. Unpocketing it, he discovered it was Aligante. Retrieving his cell phone, he accessed her from his address book and hit SEND.

  In a matter of seconds, she was on the line.

  “Where are
you?” she asked.

  “Just around the corner on Tenth.”

  “I tried to reach you on your cell. What’s wrong with your call waiting?”

  “Damn! I was on the line with Lieutenant White from Tech Support. He had a ton of info for me. I guess I got too engrossed in the call to hear the beep. Why? What’s happening?”

  “Plenty.”

  Chapter 74

  Driscoll was seated at a table in the back room of PC Haven. Across from him was an extremely elated Rita Crenshaw who, upon his arrival, had announced she was going be a gazillionaire.

  It took the Lieutenant a couple of minutes to get her to focus and stop saying “Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” When he finally succeeded, he told her he was aware she had an exciting afternoon and asked her for her patience while he asked her some questions.

  “Fire away!” she said.

  “Miss Crenshaw, would you mind if I called you Rita? I don’t want this to feel like an interrogation.” The Lieutenant needed her to feel comfortable speaking with the police. God only knew what Shewster led her to believe.

  “Sure. You can call me Rita.”

  “Thank you, Rita. I’d like to know what brought you and Mr. Shewster together.”

  “I spotted the picture of that Angus fella in the newspaper. Three million dollars is a lot of money! I wasn’t sure what to do at first, but considering the guy was wanted for murder, I called the police. After that, I called the eight-hundred number in the paper. Some guy. I never did get his name. Anyway, he seemed very interested and asked me first for my full name and phone number and then asked why I was calling. I described the guy, Angus, who had come in to buy a laptop computer and that I checked him out.”

  Her attention was drawn over Driscoll’s shoulder. When the Lieutenant turned, he saw another young lady, in a PC Haven bib, standing outside the room, waving to Rita while yelling, “Way ta go! Way ta go!” Rita responded by shouting “Whoo-hoo!” He was glad the interruption didn’t prompt another round of “Oh, my God!”

 

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