Frozen Past

by Richard C. Hale

  The masked individual approached the fence and wrestled the boy over it, following after him, up and over the chain link. He dragged the body toward the pool and left him, disappearing from view for a moment. He returned a few minutes later with something in his hand. It looked to be long and metallic.

  The video jumped. It now showed the masked man back on this side of the fence jumping up and down in the road waving his arms. He stopped suddenly and then climbed back over the fence.

  “He was triggering the camera again,” Burt said, quietly. “It timed out and the sensor doesn’t reach all the way inside the pool.” Burt turned and looked at them. “He wanted us to see this part, so he climbed back over the fence and jumped up and down to get the camera going again.”

  Jaxon and Sally remained silent. He had a feeling what was coming.

  The masked individual approached the body again and turned toward the camera. It was a little difficult to see from the distance and the chain link fence was making it even harder, but when he brought his arm up, a glint of light shining off of the metallic object Jaxon now knew to be a machete, there was no mistaking what was going to happen. Burt looked away and Sally gasped as the machete was brought down again and again until it finished its evil purpose. He then picked up the boys head and held it high above him, shaking it at the camera. The frame jumped again and the scene was empty, the killer finished with his show, the night still and silent in the aftermath. Jaxon shook with anger as Sally hung her head.

  “We have to get this son-of-a-bitch,” she said. “Today.”

  Ellie’s cell phone rang and she pulled away from Luke reaching for it. She looked at the caller I.D. and her face tightened.

  She angrily punched the button with her finger and yelled, “What do you want, you sick bastard!”

  The eerie voice came out of the speakerphone, laughing. “I thought you would be thanking me,” he said. “I did you a favor, right? Your little friend will never hurt or bother you again. Ever.”

  “Why?!” Ellie said. “Why would you do this? He never did a thing to you.”

  “Oh-but he did, my dear. He did. He should have known better than to damage my ultimate treasure.” The voice turned angry now. “Nobody will damage you but me. And only when it’s time.”

  “Leave us alone, you sicko!” she yelled.

  More laughter and then silence. She was breathing heavy, her face red and tight and her fist bunched in a ball. Luke thought she was going to throw the phone through the window.

  Suddenly the voice said, “Remember, tell no one or I make it look like your friend John did it. No one will be able to help him then. Ask your cop buddies what they found on the body. You’ll see.” He hung up.

  She looked shocked. “He knows,” she said and sagged onto her bed.

  Luke could not figure out how this asshole knew every move they made. It was like he had some supernatural powers or something. How could he have known they talked to the police? If he knew that, then he must know they hadn’t really told the cops anything.

  “We have to be careful,” Luke said. “He seems to know everything.”

  She looked into his eyes again, frowned and slowly turned away. “There must be some way…” she said.

  “I’ll think of something,” Luke said, but felt little confidence he would.

  Suddenly, she grabbed his face, searched his eyes and then kissed him hard. He reached out and held her against him, but then she pulled away.

  “Whatever happens,” she said. “I love you.”

  “El, what are you saying?”

  “Everything,” she said. “Everything that matters to me anyway. I love you and that’s all there is.” She smiled and he felt better.

  After getting a copy of the video from Burt Lolly, Jaxon and Sally paid a visit to the J. Edgar Hoover building on Pennsylvania Ave in downtown Washington D.C. Having been there many times in the past, the building was still something Jaxon hated, not only for its Brutalist style of architecture, the huge concrete structure taking up an entire city block, but for the memories it wrung from his much maligned brain regarding his son’s murder and the subsequent investigation.

  As a victim of another notorious serial killer, Michael had been the catalyst for the FBI’s involvement and Emory Holt’s rapid advancement to section chief. The then twelve year old Michael, had suffered at the hands of Malcom Switzer, and with the public outcry at the brutal slaying, the FBI felt they needed to get involved. Jaxon’s Department had gotten nowhere on the case and Holt had come in and broke it wide open.

  Of course, Jaxon had remained outside the investigation of his own son. At least officially, but when they arrested Switzer at his sleazy, Herndon trailer, Jaxon had been there and it had taken the entire force to keep him at bay. Jaxon had still managed to shoot the killer in the leg. He survived and was now on death row, awaiting his execution for the murders of Michael and five other victims of his sick and demented mind. Jaxon would be there, front row and center, when the time came, to help him on his way. If only they would let him pull the switch.

  Jaxon’s ex-wife was another problem. She had been a police officer in Fairfax with him, but after their son’s murder, she could not hide the blame she felt Jaxon deserved and had terminated their relationship along with her employment with the Fairfax County Police Department. She had then enlisted Holt’s help in securing her a position with the Bureau. After that it had only been a matter of time before she and Holt became a couple. Victoria Elliot was here, and the hatred he believed she felt toward him was something he could feel oozing from the walls as they entered the main floor.

  “Detectives Jennings and Winston to see special agent Holt,” Jaxon told the receptionist.

  “Is he expecting you?” she asked.

  “No.”

  She nodded and picked up the phone.

  The main lobby was decorated in early 1970’s government. The furniture looked new, just not new in design. Framed pictures of the President and Vice President loomed over the reception desk while previous Bureau Directors trailed off in either direction. Silence permeated the area with the exception of a keyboard clicking somewhere and Sally sniffling as they waited.

  “Agent Holt will be with you shortly,” the receptionist said, and indicated they were to sit until he arrived. Jaxon stood and stared at the pictures. Sally sat in a pale green, plastic, upholstered chair that looked far from comfortable. She fidgeted around in it for a few minutes, then stood up again.

  “Maybe if you turned it upside-down with its little stubby legs sticking up,” Jaxon said, “you might be able to relax in it.”

  She smiled at him. “This place rocks!”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” Emory Holt said from behind Jaxon’s back.

  Jaxon turned around and took in his old friend’s appearance. Taller than Jaxon, Holt’s greying hair was neatly trimmed tight around his ears and his gold, wire rimmed glasses sat down on the edge of his nose. His grey eyes conveyed a warmth Jaxon had a hard time appreciating. Holt smiled and extended his hand. Jaxon took it.

  “Jaxon, good to see you. Detective Winston,” Holt grabbed Sally’s hand and pumped it once.

  “Special Agent Holt. How are you?” Sally asked.

  “Fine, fine. I hear you two are having a little trouble down there. Finally decided to bring in the experts, huh?” He laughed, but his humor failed to elicit the correct response from Jaxon. Sally smiled.

  “Not yet, Holt,” Jaxon said. “We’re just looking for information and hoping you could give us a hand with it.”

  “Whatever you need. Come on. Let’s go up to my office.”

  They entered the elevator by the reception desk and rode up three floors to Holt’s office. He sat behind his desk and gestured to two chairs across from him. As they sat, Jaxon glanced around, his eyes settling on the framed picture of his ex-wife in a formal dress beside a tuxedoed Holt. Holt saw him looking and then pretended to miss it.

  “So, what can the FBI
do for Fairfax County’s finest?” Holt asked.

  Jaxon pulled out a printout and handed it across the desk to Holt. “We need to see if you can track where this call originated from. It was routed through a Voice Over Internet Protocol, VoIP, phone service called Cobra Call based in Moscow.”

  Holt was shaking his head. “Tough one my friend,” Holt said. “We’ve only been able to get information out of them once or twice. It’s the Russian mob and they are not too friendly with us.”

  “I figured,” Jaxon said, “but I’d like for you to try. Can you give it a shot? It’s important.”

  “I suspected as much or you wouldn’t be here.” He stared at Jaxon for a moment. “Is this related to the pool murders?”

  “Yes,” Jaxon said.

  Holt nodded, sat up straight and looked over the printout. “Who was the call made to?”

  “My cell.”

  Holt’s eyes looked up at him over the printout. “Who was the caller?”

  Jaxon fidgeted for a second. “We’re pretty sure it was the perp. His voice was electronically altered, but he had knowledge of the case that has not been publically released.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He was basically taunting us.”

  “Yes, I would suspect so, but what was the exact conversation.”

  Jaxon sighed and pulled out his notebook. He read from his notes and Holt listened carefully with his fingers steepled over his desk and his eyes focused on the ceiling.

  “He’s a brazen bastard isn’t he?” Holt said when Jaxon was finished. “Any luck finding traces of him after the call. I’m assuming you combed the area.”

  “That’s the other favor we need,” Jaxon said, pulling out another printout. “He installed a kind of web-cam to a light pole and accessed the feed through a server belonging to a company here in the U.S.” He handed the information to Holt. “We could subpoena the company for its records, but I thought you might be able to do it faster.”

  “This one will be easier,” Holt said. “Though it may not be what you expect. Usually these companies allow access to the server with just a user name, password, and the serial number from the device itself. They do not have to collect any personal information such as addresses or phone numbers.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Jaxon said. “I was hoping to find out where he is accessing the server from.”

  “We can usually get an I.P. address from the server records, but if it ends up being a public internet cafe or some wi-fi hotspot, it may not prove useful.”

  “Anything will be helpful at this point,” Jaxon said.

  “I’ll see what I can find out. When do you want this?”

  “As soon as you can. He’s killing kids and it doesn’t look like he’s going to stop.”

  “Has he started helping you yet?”

  Jaxon was surprised. “As a matter of fact, yes. That was part of the phone conversation. He provided us with a means to identify his first victim. It was a class photograph from the boy’s school.”

  “You were unable to identify the first victim? Was he badly mutilated?”

  “He was frozen. For twenty seven years.”

  Holt’s eyebrows went up and he sat forward. “Where?”

  “We don’t know. He could have kept him in a freezer anywhere.”

  “No,” Holt said. “Where was the boy from?”

  “Reston.”

  Holt sat back in his chair, his finger resting on the side of his temple. “So this was 1984?”

  “Stewart Littleton disappeared Halloween night, 1984. Yes.”

  “Any animals turn up frozen?” Holt asked.

  Jaxon looked at Sally who was staring at Holt with a face he couldn’t read. “Not frozen. Decapitated. Why?”

  “We had a case turn up twelve years ago. Very similar. Indiana. About the time of Michael’s murder. A boy of twelve surfaced in a pond and they had trouble identifying him. Nobody had reported a missing child and the usual dental records and fingerprints were coming up negative. They contacted the local FBI office for assistance and we discovered he had been frozen for sixteen years and had went missing from Hobart, Indiana in 1985. The case remains unsolved. Everything dried up and the only other associated incidents in the area involved frozen animals. At least they had once been frozen.”

  “Let me ask you something,” Sally said. She had been quiet the whole time and it startled Jaxon when she spoke. “Was anything found in the bloodstream?”

  “Yes. As a matter of fact that’s how we linked the animals to the boy. Diethyl Ether.”

  “Shit,” Jaxon said, and stared at Sally who was grinning.

  Chapter 25

  Luke and Ellie had called everyone during the day and they met that evening under the guise of a kick-the-can game. It was dark outside as they all gathered in the street. The conversation was somewhat heated. Luke hadn’t expected anything less.

  After a few minutes of hot debate, most wanted to go to the police.

  Luke stood up. “We have an issue you should know.” The group grew quiet. Ellie lowered her head.

  “Apparently he knows quite a bit about what we do and he seems to be able to track our every move.”

  “How?” Patrick interrupted.

  “If I knew that, we probably wouldn’t be having this discussion. He’s smart,” Luke said.

  “What does he know?” Ralph asked.

  “Just about everything. He called Ellie’s cell phone today and made some threats. He also knows we have talked some to the cops, Jaxon and Winston.”

  “What was the threat?” John asked. “Anything new?”

  “As a matter of fact, it was toward you, John. He said there is some evidence he planted on Jason’s body that would point to you if he wanted it to. Ellie and I don’t know what it is, but he said if we talked to anyone else, he would somehow frame John for Jason’s murder.”

  “It’s bullshit!” John said. “There’s no way he could pin this on me. I haven’t done anything.”

  “We know that, John,” Ellie said. “I don’t know what he’s done, but I can’t imagine what it would be that would make the police believe you did it. We need help. I think we should call Jaxon and Winston right now.”

  Luke felt he was losing the battle. There was a lot of talk amongst themselves for a minute and he could hear them all agreeing with Ellie. How could he stop this? He needed to find a way to keep her safe until he could figure out what to do.

  “I think we should tell the police everything we know,” Katy said, “and then stay in hiding until they catch this guy.”

  “That could be a long time, Kat,” Luke said. “We have no idea if what we know will even help them. It could be months and I don’t know about you, but I can’t stay cooped up in our house for that long. Sooner or later, we’re going to get lazy, or tired, and then he’ll make his move. We stay safe and keep quiet like he wants, and no one will get hurt.”

  Suddenly cell phones started going off. Anyone in the group who had their cell phone was getting a message. Luke’s heart rose in his throat as he pulled out his phone and looked at the text message.

  Nice town meeting. Hope you’re discussing how to keep quiet. I’d hate to see someone get hurt in your little club. W.S.

  Deana squealed and dropped her phone like it was diseased. “How does he know! How does he know! How does he know!”

  Katy grabbed her sister and hugged her tight.

  “Damn!” Jimmy said.

  “Oh no,” Ralph whined. “How did he get my number?” He pointed at Luke. “Now you’ve done it. He knows who we are!”

  Ellie’s face looked pained and she stared up at him with eyes that broke his heart. She didn’t say a thing. Luke knelt down and took her in his arms.

  “We can’t stop this, can we?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But I’m going to try.”

  Jaxon and Sally were leaving the Hoover building when he heard his name being called. He would re
cognize Victoria’s voice anywhere and it bothered him she still invoked some kind of deep emotional response that made him have to stop and turn around. She walked up smiling. Her long, dark hair was down, but held back behind her ears with a black band that matched her grey skirt and black blouse. She still had great legs and at age forty five, carried herself as if she were in a body twice as young.

  “Hey, Sally,” Victoria said, casually, then to Jaxon. “What, Jaxon? You weren’t going to stop and say hello?”

  “We didn’t have much time and I knew you were busy.”

  “I wasn’t so busy I couldn’t say ‘Hi’ to an old friend.”

  “Vick, we haven’t been old friends in a long time.”

  Her smile faltered just a fraction, but she recovered quickly. “Still, I thought you’d at least stop in. I called you a couple of months ago and you never returned my call.”

  “I must have forgotten.” In fact, he had looked at the phone for three days, but could never make himself pick it up.

  “Uh huh. I found some old stuff of Michael’s and I wanted you to have it.”

  He didn’t know what to say so he remained silent. She stared at him for a second and then brushed it aside like she always did.

  “So, what are you guys up to?”

  “We came to see Holt about a case. He’s going to do some digging for us,” Jaxon said.

  “What’s the case?”

  “Couple of murders.”

  “I hadn’t heard.”

  “Three kids actually,” Sally said, and Jaxon shot her a look.

  Victoria frowned. “How old?”

  Jaxon fidgeted. “Twelve to thirteen.”

  “Oh no, Jaxon. Is it happening again?”

  “This is different, Vick.”

  “Are you sure? Because you know there were some unknowns in the case.”

  “Switzer’s behind bars. Case closed. This is different.”