Big Three-Thriller Bundle Box Collection

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Big Three-Thriller Bundle Box Collection Page 98

by Gordon Kessler


  Parker looked around the room. He knew when Truong finished talking he would be killed. The clock on the wall showed ten minutes till ten. The interview would, most likely, be aired around half past. There wasn’t much time left, either way he looked at it. He had to get to those files quickly, or many more people would die horrible deaths. Maybe he could talk him out of it, at least talk him out of all the other killings to come.

  “What’s wrong, Sergeant Parker? Uncomfortable? There’s no way out. You are going to die—tonight.”

  “I radioed for more police when I drove in. They should be here any minute now.”

  Truong laughed. “And you expect me to believe that? Well, if more police do come, I hope I have time to finish my little story because I’d hate to kill you before I’m done. You see, when I kill you, I will be finished. My spirit will be free, and I won’t need this body. Then, I can die, too.”

  “I don’t believe you. You don’t want to die any more than I do.”

  “Now, where on earth did you get that idea?”

  “The money. The money you stole from MacGreggor.”

  Truong looked surprised. “Sergeant Parker, you are a smart man.”

  “If you have to kill me, go ahead, but please, not all the others. Shoot me but stop the TV station from airing the interview. Call all the dog owners and warn them.”

  “Shoot you? Shoot you? Sergeant Parker, I’m not going to shoot you—that is, unless the police come and make me finish my adventure prematurely. And call the people about their dogs? Why, I’ve already called them once. I’ve been calling them all evening to tell them to be sure their dogs watch the news with them tonight. I’ve told them I have something special for them, a surprise. You know, I think most of them will do it, too. A lot of them thought I was crazy, but I’ll just bet when the interview comes on, their faithful companions will be watching right alongside them.”

  Truong looked up at the clock.

  “It won’t be long now,” he said. “Soon I’ll finish my story, my dog friends will attack, and it will be time for you to die a very horrible death.

  “Now where was I? Mmmm, oh yes. When you met me in the jungle that day, I was hoping to kill your dogs.” He brought out a shiny silver dog whistle and rolled it between his fingers.

  Parker now understood the way he was to be killed.

  “Your dogs had been finding our booby traps and our tunnels, and I had a plan to kill them. I would call them, and they would lead you and your squad toward me. When I was sure they were on my trail, I would bring them, and you, into an ambush of claymore mines a few yards away. Then, I would disappear into the bush. My plan would have worked fine, but I underestimated the speed of your dogs. But then, I didn’t expect you to turn them loose. I hadn’t had time to reach my little ambush before your dogs appeared.”

  Truong grinned. “Then you popped out and shot me.”

  He paused before continuing, his eye staring at Parker with the intensity of a jaguar’s at a rabbit. “I also underestimated the incredible fighting strength of the dogs. I was very impressed. But I would have killed them, anyway — if it weren’t for you. When I discovered firsthand what dogs could do to a man, I became very interested. You see, that would be the way I would get even with you—eye for eye, tooth for tooth.”

  A strange hoarse howl came from outside. It sent shivers down Tony Parker’s spine.

  Truong turned and craned his neck to see out the window.

  “Intriguing howl. Probably a farmer’s dog or a coyote. I’ve heard one just like it every night. It’s almost as if it were following me. Hmmm,” Truong said, then turned back to Parker. “In the North Vietnamese Army, I had been an intelligence officer, specializing in interrogation and brainwashing techniques. Are you familiar with thiopental, or maybe Sodium Pentothal, Sergeant Parker?”

  “Truth serum,” Parker responded.

  “Exactly. It’s a barbiturate sometimes used to aid in hypnosis. Well, I discovered that if thiopental is used in conjunction with certain very potent mind-altering drugs, the mind becomes very pliable.

  “It took many experiments, many lives both dog and human, to find the right combination of drugs that would produce the results I was seeking. But then, there were a plenty of drugs floating around at that time to choose from.

  “The human mind seemed too difficult to control, however. Too complex. But certain lower animals, dogs for instance, were easily controlled with the use of my very own designer drug, accompanied by hypnosis. I’ll bet you didn’t know a dog could be hypnotized. It’s a talent my grief has helped me develop along with the gift of a hypnotic eye. The animals seem to look into my left eye and see the pain I carry in my soul.”

  Truong pointed to the patch with the muzzle of the gun. “I am able to unlock the more primitive part of their brain: the part they used when they were untamed and vicious wolves and wild dogs, before being domesticated by man. It makes them very aggressive, and they attack anything living, except members of their own pack. That makes it safe for me, you see, for they look at me as their pack leader.

  “The next thing I discovered was after hypnosis, even when the drugs wore off, I could induce them to use that part of their brain again at any time, at my whim.” He looked at the dog whistle. “With just a simple signal, planted during hypnosis, I can turn them on — and off.”

  Parker looked at the clock. It was five minutes till ten. He felt helpless.

  Truong went on. “So, after years of research and experimentation, I was ready to visit you. I checked information for several Kansas cities and finally found you in Wichita. Then, I called around and found out you were the animal-control director. You can just imagine my delight! My plan would work even better than I had anticipated. I bought my identification and my passport to the United States on the black market and flew into Wichita and looked you up, just as simple as that.

  “I had been here nearly six months, working out the fine details of my plan. I visited your house often, especially at night. I heard the music you liked to listen to on your stereo—that old-time rock-n-roll. I smelled the supper cooking on your stove. I even heard the arguments you and your wife had, about not having enough money and spending too much time at work—with Sarah Hill.” He grinned again. “Just one year away from getting your veterinarian’s degree, huh?

  “But I was there in the daytime, also. To see Nick go to school and Julie take your baby, Audrey, grocery shopping with her. I went through your trash and found the discarded mail, the bills that you paid, the reminders and past due notices. There were some broken toys, some of Nick’s outgrown clothes. I even became friends with your dog. Tell me, does that make you feel betrayed?” He looked at Parker with another of his hideous smiles.

  For months Parker and his family had been watched by a ruthless killer, and he hadn’t had a clue. He felt violated, raped. Truong knew everything about his family, had even called them by their names.

  “From Yankee’s dog tags, I found your vet, and, of course, he hired me instantly as an assistant once he found out I would work for room and board. I posed as an ignorant Thai immigrant, who was good with animals.

  “My real name is Ming. I used Truong so as to help make my getaway good if there were any complications. The old man never asked to see my papers. He believed everything I said. I soon gained the old fool’s trust and had plenty of time to treat many dogs. Every dog that was left here for more than a couple of hours became a soldier in my little army.

  “Then, at night, I did some moonlighting and enlightened dozens more. I had picked up the drugs in San Francisco from some black market connections I have there, and I had enough to use on a lot of dogs.

  “My first experiment in your country was right after I arrived. I ran across a firehouse mascot—a Dalmatian—and considered how much fun I could have. The firemen treated me like a friend—their favorite foamer, they called me—and they let me play with their dog.”

  Parker couldn’t help gaping at
Truong, thinking of the firefighters and their dog killed the winter before.

  “I can see you remember that little accident they had. I wish I would have had a camera.” Truong sighed. “When I used up the last of the drugs, it was time to play with you. I started with the blind man. I stood outside his house and blew my whistle.”

  He put the whistle up to his mouth and began to blow. No shrill whistle noise came out, only wind. He puffed two longs, two shorts and a long. “That was the signal. No other combination of sounds would work.”

  Out in the truck, Yankee began to go crazy, barking and snarling.

  Truong looked through the doorway with surprise. “Well, it sounds like you brought my old friend Yankee along with you. This is a pleasant surprise.” He looked back at Parker. “Now you won’t have to die at a stranger’s hands, or should I say fangs.”

  Parker squirmed.

  “So anyway, MacGreggor was just a bonus. When I took his dogs back to him after their rabies shots, he paid the fee with a hundred-dollar bill. Dr. White Cloud said he always did and that there was a rumor he had a fortune hidden away in his house. I had seen MacGreggor come up from the basement with the money when he paid me, so I knew pretty much where it was. That night, I sat in the clinic’s van outside his house and blew my little whistle. After twenty minutes or so, there hadn’t been any signs of problems, so I climbed his fence and entered the house through the big dog port in the back door.”

  “At twelve thirty,” Parker interrupted.

  “How’d you . . . ,” Truong began. “The clock. I pulled it off the wall as I searched in the dark for the doorway. Very good. You should be a detective. I hear there’s an opening.”

  Parker glared as Truong continued.

  “The male dog greeted me as one of his own and I went directly to the basement and got the old man’s money. Then, on my way out, I laid the scripture on his lap. Something to make it more interesting, to give you something to sweat over, knowing you were somehow involved. You see, a chaplain gave me a Bible when I was in your American hospital. You know, I felt a little sad when I choked him to death with his own rosary beads.

  “Anyway, at MacGreggor’s I saw a letter opener that appealed to me and I took it along. Funny thing, the female, Jezebel, had run away. She was the most remarkable creature I had ever seen. Beautiful animal, and the smartest dog I’ve ever known. And she was so big. When we stood facing each other, we looked eye to eye. If there had been a way, I would have kept her for myself. She certainly served me well, though. The thought of a dog like her being loose and rabid made all of Wichita stay in at night and lock their doors and wonder why their incompetent animal-control director couldn’t catch her.

  “Oh, and I must thank you for your humorous antics during my fun. Sunday, in the park. The potato salad and the baked beans. I thought I would die laughing. And the way you played with my dogs was very amusing. I only wish I could have been closer to hear better.” He chuckled. “There have been other amusing times: Nick in the playground and Julie on the jogging path. Your wife doesn’t know how lucky she was. But that is only temporary.

  “You lousy son-of-a-bitch!” Parker exclaimed.

  “I almost forgot about your Pastor Carl. He was too easy to be much fun. MacGreggor’s letter opener sliced through his old throat like butter. He is tougher than I thought, though, hanging on so long.

  “Let’s see. Oh yes, you’ll love this about your friends in Sand Creek—but no, I think I’ll save that for the very last. Give you something to think about while your life is pulsing from your body, shooting out of your ripped-open carotid artery.

  “Mrs. Taylor was next with her prize greyhounds. Unfortunate they didn’t kill her. But by then they made you look pretty bad. And her male dog has come in useful since then and was going to again tonight, but I’ll get to that in a minute.

  “Then, there was Mrs. Nightingale. I got to her a little late, but it worked out for the better from what I heard from your dear friend Henry Haskins on Channel Two News.

  “Roary Rapids’ dogs were the most enjoyable of all. It was perfect timing. I had hoped to set them off at a rock concert, but the way they tore through the Epic Center made up for that. Especially since they got Jack Simpson.”

  Parker bolted hard enough to pop the joints in his wrist, but it was to no avail.

  “You bastard!”

  “Oh, but wait, there’s more. Then, when Dr. White Cloud came out late last night, I knew he was getting suspicious of me. I sneaked up to him and had the personal honor to slash his throat with my pretty, new letter opener. Then, I let the greyhound you brought in have him for a while. I put the dog back in his cage, and they blamed it on the only known loose dog, Jezebel. It worked so perfectly.”

  This bastard killed Doc! Parker’s face strained. The fever came back full strength. His joints stiffened and ached tremendously. He could feel the veins bulging on his temples. His wrists bled badly from trying to work out of the chains.

  Truong went on. “Then, of course, we have this evening. I hadn’t planned on the interview, but again, it fit in perfectly. The preview nearly fouled things up, but it looks like everything is going to work out just fine. I’ve been listening to all the fun on the police scanner I keep in my locker.

  “It was unfortunate that more damage wasn’t done at your house, however. Although—I do have some time before my midnight flight— I’ve chartered a private plane. I may have a little time—to kill.

  “I hadn’t planned on Yankee attacking so early. As a matter of fact, I was just on my way over to visit you, to help you better understand the pain I suffered when my friends and loved ones were being killed. I was going to bring the greyhound and let him and Yankee play with you and your family.

  “Oh, you son-of-a-bitch! Let me go! I’ll kill you!” Parker said, jerking and pulling at the chains.

  “Sarah was a necessity,” Truong continued, unfazed. “I didn’t like the little bitch. She was snobby and always so sure of herself, and I knew you found her very attractive. I do hope Sheik did a good job.”

  Parker wasn’t about to tell Truong that Hill had survived. He was insane enough to go after her and try again.

  Truong said, “Oh, yes, in case you were wondering about the rabies tests….”

  Truong stepped into his room and pulled out an ice chest. He dumped it, ice and all, on Parker’s lap. A German-shepherd head and the head of Beelzebub, Jezebel’s mate, rolled out wrapped in plastic. Parker looked down and bared his teeth.

  Truong finished, “I never seemed to find the time to take these in. Oh, and I almost forgot, my most recent trophy. I know you’ll appreciate it.” He went into the next room again.

  He came out a few seconds later, holding a blood-soaked pillowcase.

  “I have someone here that would like to say good-bye to you,” Truong said, and dumped the contents of the pillowcase out on Parker’s lap, also.

  The thing landed between his knees. It was large and round and seemed covered in long black hair matted with fresh-smelling blood. Nauseatingly fresh.

  Parker looked at it, frowning, trying to make out what it was. A head? Whose?

  “Say good-bye, Patsy. ‘Tony, oh, Tony,’” Truong mimicked.

  Parker was overcome with an explosion of grief and pain.

  He cried out, tears streaming down his face, “Ah, you dirty bastard!” Tears and saliva spat out as he yelled, voice cracking.

  “Well, I’ve said all I would like to say, and I don’t see you apologizing or pleading, so it’s time for the grand finale,” Truong said very calmly. “I had planned on giving you to the greyhound, but I believe this occasion calls for something special. Yankee. Oh, and don’t worry. You won’t be alone. I’ll stay and watch.”

  He took a step toward the door, but stopped and stared out.

  “Oh, well, come in. We were just talking about you,” he said, with a big grin.

  Parker was petrified with fear. He was going to die. It would be a ho
rrible death. Now this, a visitor. The police, maybe? No. He dismissed the thought quickly. Truong would have reacted much differently. Yankee still barked in the truck. What sounded like the greyhound barked from the kennel outside. Who could it be, but — Jezebel.

  CHAPTER 52

  Parker saw a black muzzle appear well over halfway up in the doorway. It wasn’t growling nor did it even show a snarl. The giant dog continued to walk into the room, slowly, fluidly. Parker was in awe. The beautiful dog stood with the points of her ears at the same level as Truong’s. She was as black as a moonless night without a single hair of white. Nearly five feet tall from floor to ear tip. She looked a little thin and had dried scabs on her head, but otherwise, she was nature in perfection. Around her neck were her tags, the large diamond, sparkling.

  She looked at Truong without blinking. He smiled back at her.

  “This is indeed a great honor. How very good to see you.” Truong glanced at Parker, smiling. Jezebel looked, also. “Isn’t she a beauty?” Truong asked. To Jezebel, he said, “So it’s been you following and howling to me over the last few days. You’ve been wanting to join in the fun, haven’t you?”

  “Maybe not, Truong,” Parker said. “Maybe she’s been tracking you down. Maybe she’s been trying to warn your victims and stop you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Sergeant Parker. Jezebel is no longer leashed by any allegiance to man. She’s free and wild. And, I might add, she looks hungry. It does appear, however she’s lost her spark for killing. Probably due to that nasty injury on her head. I’m sure this will get her going again,” Truong said, raising the whistle to his lips, then bringing it down slightly. “Oh, and good-bye, Sergeant Parker. I do hope you’ve enjoyed this as much as I.”

 

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