The Death Sculptor rh-4

by Carter Chris

  ‘Which picture?’ Garcia asked, once the waitress was out of earshot.

  ‘One of the victims.’ Jude leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. ‘The guy called Andrew Nashorn.’

  Garcia nodded calmly. ‘What about the picture? What made you look again?’

  ‘Actually it was the name underneath it. I recognized the name.’ Jude picked up on the hint of doubt that had colored Garcia’s face. ‘When I was in school,’ she explained, ‘I had this big crush on this kid, Andreas Köhler. His family had immigrated from Germany.’ A melancholic smile parted her lips. Her teeth looked stained and damaged. ‘Anyway, I thought that I could increase my chances of getting with him if I could speak a little German. So I borrowed a few tapes from the school library. I listened to those tapes for about a month solid. Didn’t learn much. It’s a difficult language. But one of the things I did learn was the names of animals. And I still remember them.’

  Garcia’s confusion intensified, but he tried not to show it.

  ‘Nashorn means rhinoceros in German.’

  ‘Really?’ Garcia looked at Hunter.

  ‘I didn’t know that either.’

  ‘It does,’ Jude affirmed. ‘And that made me take a closer look at the picture. He obviously looked older. His hair was all gray, but I would recognize that face anywhere. It was the same person. And that’s when I paid a little more attention to the photographs of the other two victims, and it all came back to me. They were all much older, but the more I looked, the less doubt I had. I knew all of them.’

  Hunter hadn’t touched his coffee yet. His eyes were studying Jude’s facial and body movements. There were no twitches, no rapid eye movement, no fidgeting. If she was lying, she was really good at it.

  ‘Well, I didn’t actually know them,’ Jude clarified. ‘I was beat up by them.’

  One Hundred and Three

  Those words fell over Hunter and Garcia like slabs of rock, almost knocking the breath out of them.

  Garcia shook the surprise off his face. ‘You were beaten up by them?’

  For the first time Jude broke eye contact with the detectives. Her gaze moved down to her unfinished coffee cup. ‘I’m not proud of it, but I’m also not ashamed of my life. We’ve all done things we wished we never did.’ She paused, collecting her thoughts. Hunter and Garcia respected her breathing space. ‘When I was a lot younger, I worked the streets down in Hollywood Boulevard, the low end of the Strip.’

  The east end of the famous Hollywood Boulevard used to be LA’s best-known red-light district.

  ‘I was new to the area. My usual spot used to be around Venice Beach, but back then the Strip was a much more popular place. If you could handle the numbers, you could make some serious cash.’ There was no shame in her words. She couldn’t change her past, and she accepted that with tremendous dignity. ‘Anyway, I was picked up one night by this guy. It was really late, past midnight, I think. He was quite good-looking, and funny. He took me to this place out by Griffith Park, but what he’d never told me in the car was that there were another three guys waiting for us.’

  Jude’s gaze moved past both detectives and up into the distance, as if she was trying to see what was coming.

  ‘Well, I told them right then that I didn’t do gangbangs. Not for any money.’ She stopped talking and reached for her cold coffee.

  ‘But they didn’t care,’ Hunter said.

  ‘No they didn’t,’ she replied after having a sip. ‘They were all high on something, and they were drinking a lot. The problem wasn’t really having sex with four drunken men at once. The problem was that they liked it rough.’ She paused and thought better of her words. ‘Well, two of them did, more than the other two. By the time they were done, I was so bruised I wasn’t able to work for a week.’

  It was pointless asking Jude if she’d gone to the police. She was a working girl, and the sad truth was that the police would’ve barely lent an ear to her story. She might even have been arrested for prostitution.

  ‘But things like that happened. It came with the job,’ Jude said in a resigned tone, without bitterness. ‘And they still do. It was a risk us girls took when we chose to work alone. I was beaten up before, worse than that. The reality is that, out on the streets, you never really know what kind of jerk is going to roll down his window and call you over.’

  By ‘work alone’ both detectives knew Jude meant she didn’t have a pimp. Pimps provided protection for their girls. If anyone laid a rough hand on them, or decided they didn’t want to pay, they would have their legs broken, or worse. The problem was, the girls had to work for peanuts. Pimps would take 80 to 90 per cent of all the money their girls made, sometimes more.

  ‘The driver,’ Jude continued. ‘The one who picked me up and took me to his friends, that was the guy in the picture in the paper. Nashorn, rhinoceros man.’

  ‘He told you his name?’ Garcia asked.

  ‘No, but while he was on top of me, slapping my face with his animal hands, I heard one or two of the others cheer him on. First I thought it was a joke or something. That they were calling him rhinoceros in German for fun. But then I realized it couldn’t be. I remember thinking that he wasn’t the only rhinoceros in that room. They were all animals. But when you hear a name being called while someone is on top of you, beating you up, you tend to remember it forever.’

  ‘And you’re sure about the others? I mean the other two victims you saw in the paper – Derek Nicholson and Nathan Littlewood?’

  ‘I never heard their names being called that night. But I remember their faces. I made a point of never closing my eyes. Never giving them the satisfaction of my fear. I know that’s what dominant men thrive on, right? The submission. That night I did all I could to not submit to them, at least not mentally. While they were on me, I looked straight into their eyes. Every single one of them.’ Jude looked up at Garcia. ‘So yes, I’m very sure the other two men I saw in the paper were there that night.’

  Hunter was still studying her. There was anger in her words, but it sounded dead, something that was now in the past, something that, just as she’d said, was a risk that came with what she did. And she had accepted it.

  ‘You said that two of them liked it rough more than the others,’ Hunter said. ‘Which two, do you remember?’

  Jude ran a hand through her hair. Her stare returned to Hunter. ‘Of course I do. Rhinoceros man and the Littlewood guy. They pretty much did all the beating. The other two joined in for the sex, but they weren’t violent. In fact, I think they even asked the other two to take it easy.’

  Hunter’s eyes dropped to the plastic tablecloth and he thought about Jude’s last words. He’d seen that sort of situation many times when young, and countless times in his adult life – peer pressure. It happened everywhere, even inside the LAPD. People would do things they didn’t agree with, or didn’t want to do, simply to be accepted, to feel part of a group. It ranged from common behavior like smoking and bullying, to terrible and damaging acts like committing a crime – even murder.

  ‘How long ago was this?’ Hunter asked.

  ‘Twenty-eight years,’ Jude confirmed. ‘A few months after that, I quit the streets.’

  One Hundred and Four

  For a long moment they all sat in silence. Jude had just confirmed that Derek Nicholson did indeed know Andrew Nashorn and Nathan Littlewood, and that they all used to hang out together. Further to that, Hunter’s theory seemed to be correct when it came to the group having a fourth member.

  ‘Are you sure you can’t remember any other names?’ Hunter said finally, rupturing the silence.

  Jude ran her tongue over her dry bottom lip. ‘I’ve been thinking about it since I saw their pictures in the paper and realized who they were. That was one of those nights you just don’t want to remember. And to tell you the truth, I hadn’t thought about it for years. As I said, I’d been beaten up before, just never by anyone called Rhinoceros and his gang.’ She reached for her handbag. �
�That’s everything I had to say. I don’t know if it will help you any, but at least now the weight is off my shoulders, and I can hopefully get some sleep again.’

  ‘Just one more thing,’ Hunter said before Jude got up. ‘Did you ever see them again? Any of them?’

  Jude stared at her thin hands. Her pale-pink nail varnish was chipped everywhere. ‘I saw the rhinoceros man once, a few months after that night. I just told you, I quit the streets later that year.’

  ‘Where did you see him?’ Garcia this time.

  ‘Same place, down Hollywood Boulevard. He was picking someone else up.’ She paused and gave them what sounded like a suppressed chuckle. ‘Huh.’

  ‘Is there something else?’ Hunter read her expression.

  Jude took a moment, searching her brain for an old memory. She put her handbag back down. ‘There was this girl who had just started down at the Strip. Roxy, she called herself. Because she was new, she was easily hustled away from the good spots by the other girls. I told her she could work the corner where I was.’ Jude tilted her head to one side and explained. ‘I know how hard it can get, especially for the new girls. I was just trying to give her a little hand. She was nice. Not stunning, but attractive enough. Very petite, though. I told her she had to get some more meat on her bones. Men like curves, it’s a fact. The problem was, she was way too nervous, and she had no idea of how to stand.’

  Neither Hunter nor Garcia said anything. Jude explained anyway.

  ‘Out on the streets we had to sell ourselves, and it’s all about the way you stand and the way you look. You stand wrong, you never get approached. That’s how it works. Well, after about an hour I took pity on her. I bought her a coffee and decided to give her a few tips. That was her first night on the job. She told me that she’d tried, but she couldn’t get a job anywhere. She was desperate, and that was why she’d decided to hit the streets. But she wasn’t a junky. I know a user when I see one.’

  Both Hunter and Garcia knew that prostitution and drugs were like twin sisters.

  Jude looked down at her hands. ‘Her desperation wasn’t for drugs. At least not the usual drugs.’

  Hunter looked intrigued.

  ‘She told me she had a kid who was ill. She needed money for medicine. She was really scared for her kid. She said that she only needed to do it that once, maybe two nights, and she’d have enough for her kid’s medicine.’ Jude shook her head as if trying to erase the memory. ‘Anyway, I gave her a few tips and we went back to my corner spot.’

  ‘OK,’ Garcia said. ‘What about her?’

  ‘Well, later that night I got an easy job down a back alley – twenty minutes. When I was walking back, I saw her jumping into a car. She waved as they drove past me, and that was when I saw the driver. It was Rhinoceros Man. I tried waving them down, but they were too fast.’

  ‘And what happened?’ Hunter asked.

  ‘I don’t know. She didn’t come back that night.’ Jude shrugged. ‘She didn’t come back any night after that, either. At least not to my corner. I was a little worried. I thought that maybe what happened to me had happened to her. The same four bastards ganged up on her. As I said, it took me a week to be able to hit the streets again after they were done with me, and I was much stronger than she was. I never saw her again. But maybe she quit after that night. I hope she did. She said she only needed to do it that one night. Or maybe she got scared. It happened a lot to the new girls. As soon as they encountered their first rough customer, and inevitably they all did, that was when they figured out that that life wasn’t for them. After that, I never saw Rhinoceros Man or any of his friends again.’

  Hunter was still intrigued. ‘Did this Roxy girl ever tell you her kid’s name?’ he asked.

  ‘She probably did, but there’s no way I will remember it now. That was twenty-eight years ago.’ Jude got up to leave again.

  Hunter got up with her and handed her a card. ‘If you remember anything else, any of the names of the others in that group, could you please give me a call – anytime.’

  Jude stared at Hunter’s card as if it were poisonous. After a long, hesitating moment she took it, and walked out of the café.

  The only thought in Hunter’s mind was that he’d been wrong. The shadow image they’d got from Andrew Nashorn’s boat didn’t depict a fight. It depicted a sexual attack – a gang rape.

  One Hundred and Five

  It was past ten at night by the time Hunter got back to his apartment. Sleep didn’t come. His brain just wouldn’t disconnect. Instead of forcing it, he went back to the box of photographs he’d retrieved from Littlewood’s apartment and spread them on the floor of his living room. He checked them against the portrait Allison had given him of her parents. He already knew that the victims knew each other, but if Derek Nicholson were in any of those pictures, then maybe the missing fourth member of the group was too.

  After an hour on his knees with a magnifying glass, Hunter had got nothing. He felt tired. His legs hurt and he needed rest. His eyes were burning from fatigue and his neck and shoulders ached. But his brain still wouldn’t let go.

  He heard the couple next door come back in from another night out drinking, slamming doors and slurring their words.

  ‘I need to get some new neighbors,’ Hunter chuckled to himself. He turned his attention to the photographs of the shadow images. All the information he had come across in the past few hours was bouncing around inside his head.

  Giggling and moans started coming through the wall. ‘Oh, no, no,’ Hunter whispered. ‘Please, not in the living room.’

  The moans got a little louder.

  ‘Damn!’ Hunter knew that the banging against the wall would start soon. He laced his fingers and placed his palms on the top of his head while his eyes returned to the images on the floor.

  The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Nicholson, Nashorn, Littlewood and whoever the fourth member of their group was, had sexually attacked somebody. It could’ve been the girl Jude told them about – Roxy – or some other street prostitute. But what had happened to their victim? Had the attack gone terribly wrong? Was she dead?

  The loud noises coming from next door didn’t bother Hunter anymore. He was in his own bubble now, mentally reviewing every piece of information relating to the case.

  He was so absorbed in his thoughts that it took Hunter a few seconds to register the sound of a phone ringing. He blinked twice and searched the room, as if momentarily disorientated. His cellphone was on the improvised computer desk, by the printer. The phone rang again and Hunter snapped it up without checking the caller-display window.

  ‘Detective Hunter.’

  ‘Detective, it’s Jude. We talked earlier today.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Hunter was surprised, but his tone gave nothing away.

  ‘I’m sorry for calling so late, but I did remember something, and though I thought about calling tomorrow morning, it has been bugging me and I can’t sleep. You said that if I remembered anything else, I could call at any time.’

  ‘Yes, of course. It’s no problem at all,’ Hunter said, checking his watch. ‘What did you remember?’

  ‘A name.’

  The muscles on Hunter’s neck tensed. ‘The fourth member of the group?’

  ‘No. I told you, I never heard any of the other names that night.’ A short pause. ‘I remember the name of Roxy’s kid. Remember I told you that she mentioned it once or twice?’

  ‘Yes, yes.’

  Jude told Hunter the name and he frowned. Unusual, but at the same time there was something familiar about it.

  Jude disconnected, glad to have called, and hoping that her brain would now disengage and allow her to get some sleep.

  Hunter placed his cellphone back on the desk. The name Jude had given him was swimming around in his head. He decided to run it against the LAPD database. Maybe that’s why it sounded vaguely familiar.

  Hunter switched his laptop on, and as he waited for it to boot up, his
eyes went back to the mess of photographs and files on the floor. He paused as he felt a cold swirl whip around inside his stomach.

  There was no need to search the LAPD database. He’d just remembered where he’d heard the name before.

  One Hundred and Six

  Hunter didn’t sleep. He spent the rest of the night exhausting his memory, searching for more clues. Even the possibility that he was right scared him.

  He had to drop by either Olivia or Allison Nicholson’s house to obtain one last piece of information, but it was too early to go knocking on anyone’s door. He reached for his cellphone and dialed Alice’s number. She answered it on the third ring.

  ‘Robert, is everything OK?’ She sounded half asleep.

  ‘I need a favor.’

  ‘Um . . . OK. What do you need?’

  ‘Can you hack into the California Department of Social Services’ database?’

  A confused pause.

  ‘Yeah, that won’t be very hard.’

  ‘Can you do it now, from your house?’

  ‘Sure, as soon as I power up my gear.’ A new pause. ‘You do realize that you are asking me to commit a felony, right?’

  ‘I promise I won’t tell anyone.’

  Alice laughed. ‘Hey, you don’t have to convince me. This is what I do best.’

  ‘OK then, here’s what I need you to find out.’

  Olivia Nicholson was about to have breakfast when Hunter knocked on her door. Without giving much away, he explained that they had come across some new information overnight, and he just needed to ask her a few more questions.

  Their conversation was brief, but fruitful. She told him that, as far as she could remember, her father’s oldest friend was Dwayne Bradley, the Los Angeles District Attorney.

  One Hundred and Seven

  It was late afternoon when the phone on Garcia’s desk rang. He hadn’t seen or heard from Hunter all day, but that wasn’t uncommon.

  ‘Detective Garcia, Homicide Special,’ he answered, and listened in silence for several seconds.