The Third Victim

by Phillip Margolin

  “What took you so long, Reggie?” he asked.

  Regina raised an eyebrow. “What made you so sure I’d come?”

  “I always make you come,” the chief justice replied with a sly grin.

  Regina threw her head back and laughed.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Three days after Caleb White rescued Meredith Fenner, Carrie Anders fielded a call from Harry White. Carrie, who had been a detective with the Hammond County Sheriff’s Office before moving to Portland several years ago, was a large woman who was a little taller than Harry’s six one and as strong as some of the men in both police departments. Harry had seen her wade into a bar fight and beat the crap out of belligerent drunks who thought they could take her because she was a woman.

  Carrie had sad brown eyes, a large, lumpish nose, and short, shaggy black hair. Her lumbering appearance and slow drawl often fooled people into thinking that she was slow-witted, but Harry knew that she was wicked smart.

  “Hey, Harry, what can I do for you?” Carrie asked as soon as Harry identified himself.

  “It’s what I might be able to do for you. Is anyone in your office working a serial case where women have been tortured with cigarettes and bound with duct tape?”

  Carrie sat up. The information about the cigarette burns and duct tape had not been released to the public.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Two days ago, a young woman staggered out of the forest and collapsed on County Road Twenty-four. She was in terrible shape, in shock, and reluctant to talk about what had happened … until this afternoon. As soon as I heard her story, I remembered an email from your department and an article in the Portland newspaper. I could be way off base, but I think it would be worth your while to talk to her.”

  * * *

  Carrie Anders, dressed in navy blue slacks, a blue blazer, and a white tailored man’s shirt, entered Meredith Fenner’s hospital room the afternoon after Harry White’s call. Fenner turned toward the detective as soon as the door opened, and Anders could see she was scared.

  “Hi, Meredith,” Harry said as he walked in. Meredith relaxed a little when she saw him.

  “This is Carrie Anders. She’s a detective from Portland, but she used to work with me here. I asked her to talk to you because she’s been investigating the deaths of two women who may have been murdered by the man who kidnapped you.”

  “Do you mind if I sit?” Carrie asked.

  When Meredith shook her head, the detective pulled a chair up next to Meredith’s bed. Harry had shown Anders photographs of Meredith that had been taken when she arrived at the hospital. She’d looked hideous in them. Now that a lot of the damage to her face was fading and her hair had been washed, cut, and combed, Carrie could see she was an attractive young woman.

  “I know you’ve been through a lot,” Carrie said. “I’m glad you’re safe now. How are you feeling?”

  “Better,” she said quietly.

  “Would it be okay if I asked you some questions?”

  “I already told Detective White what happened. I really don’t want to have to think about it again.”

  “You’re not the first woman I’ve talked to who’s been through a horrible experience, so I know it’s painful to relive it. But I’m afraid that you might be the third victim of a very sick and dangerous man and I want to stop him before a fourth woman has to go through what you did—or worse.”

  Carrie paused and looked into Meredith’s eyes. “Will you help me stop him?”

  Meredith hesitated. Then she nodded.

  “Would you mind if I record our conversation? This way, I’ll have an accurate account of what you tell me and I can save you from having to repeat it again.”

  Meredith nodded.

  “Thank you,” Carrie said as she took out a recorder and dictated an introduction that established the time, date, and location of the interview and who was present.

  “Can you tell me everything that happened from the beginning? And if it gets too intense, we’ll take a break. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Why don’t we start by talking a little about you? How old are you?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  “Are you in school, working?”

  “I’m a barista at People’s Coffee House in Portland. I’m trying to make enough money to go to Portland Community College.”

  “What are you planning to study?”

  “I … I’d like to be a nurse.”

  “That’s good. There’s a shortage of nurses. Do you have any credits toward a degree?”

  “Some from a community college in Florida.”

  “So you’re not from Oregon?”

  “No. I moved here a few months ago.”

  “Detective White says you told him you were attacked after work,” Carrie said after a few more preliminary questions. “What happened?”

  “I work until ten. Then I help clean up after we close. There’s an employee parking lot in back of the store. That’s … that’s where he was waiting.”

  “It was a man? You’re sure.”

  Meredith nodded.

  “Was he alone?”

  “I think so. I never saw anyone but him.”

  “Okay, tell me what happened. You’re going to your car…”

  “He grabbed me from behind and pressed a cloth over my nose.”

  She paused and turned her head away. Carrie thought that Meredith was fighting back tears, and she waited patiently for her to regain her composure.

  “Do you want some water?” Carrie asked.

  “Yes, please. This is very hard.”

  Harry poured a glass of water and handed it to Meredith.

  “Thank you,” she said when she had sipped a little.

  “What do you remember after the man pressed the cloth to your nose?”

  “I blacked out. When I came to, I was in a car trunk and the car was bouncing. I was woozy when the car stopped. Before I could see anything, he put the cloth over my nose and knocked me out again. But I saw a dirt driveway that leads up to the cabin where he held me when I escaped.”

  “We’ll get to your escape in a bit. Let’s get back to your abduction. You’re in the trunk. It opens?”

  Meredith nodded.

  “What do you see?”

  “Him. He … he was leaning in and he pressed the cloth on my nose and mouth again.”

  “Could you see his face?”

  “No. He was wearing a ski mask.”

  “Okay. What’s the next thing you remember?”

  “I was in a room, spread-eagled on a bed, and my hands were secured to the bedposts with duct tape.”

  “Did you still have your clothes on?”

  “He’d taken off my pants and bra, but I had on my underpants and blouse.”

  “What did the room look like?”

  “There was just the bed. The walls were wood. It was a log cabin. There was nothing on the walls, no photographs or paintings. My room was small. There was a window, but it was covered by blackout shades. There were sheets on the floor around the bed.” Meredith shuddered. “There were stains on the sheets, and I think it was blood.”

  “Do you want some more water?” Carrie asked.

  “No, I just want to get this over.”

  “How long were you alone?” Carrie asked.

  “I don’t know. I’d lost track of time. It seemed like hours, but I don’t know. I … I started feeling very hungry and thirsty. I called out, but no one answered. I was groggy when I came to, but whatever he used to dope me wore off. Then I was really scared. I did get light-headed from hunger, so I could have been there a day. I don’t know. I had to pee. I tried to hold it in, but I … I couldn’t.”

  Meredith started to cry. Carrie heard her gulping in air. She laid a hand gently on Meredith’s shoulder.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

  Carrie waited for Meredith to calm down. Then she asked her what happened next.

  �
��He came in.”

  “Describe him.”

  “He had black clothes on, a bulky black sweater and dark jeans and gloves. And he was still wearing the mask.”

  Carrie stood up. “You’re on a bed, so you have a different perspective from someone standing. Was he as tall as I am? I’m six two.”

  “He was shorter, average height, not short, but not tall, either.”

  “What happened after he came in?”

  “He stood at the foot of the bed and just stared at me. I asked him what he wanted. I begged him to let me go. He just stood there. When I realized I was just turning him on, I stopped talking. That’s when he walked around the bed and punched me in the face. I screamed, and he put his hand over my mouth and squeezed my nostrils shut. I panicked. I couldn’t breathe. When I was about to pass out, he took his hands away and leaned close to me and said that I must never talk unless he gave me permission. He said I would be punished if I disobeyed.

  “I think my nose was broken, because the pain was intense when he squeezed my nostrils. When I was quiet, he said I was a bad girl and bad girls must be punished. That’s when he ripped my blouse open and took out a pack of cigarettes.”

  Meredith started to shake.

  “It’s okay. Relax. He’s not here and he can’t hurt you. Detective White and I won’t let him,” Carrie said.

  Meredith took a deep breath. “He burned me. When I screamed, he reached down between his legs. He … he was touching himself. When he burned me again, I begged him to stop. He said that I had spoken and had disobeyed him. He said I was a bad girl. He hit me in the stomach and I couldn’t breathe. Then he punched me in my eye. I had no air. I couldn’t scream. I thought I would die. While I was gasping for air, he burned me on the waist. I had enough air to scream. When I stopped, I could hear his breathing. It was heavy and he was stroking himself some more. He shivered and I think he…” She gulped in some air. “I think he ejaculated. After that, he put a strip of duct tape across my mouth and left.”

  “Thank you,” Carrie said. “I know this is rough, but you’re coming through like a trouper. Now I want you to think. You said he spoke to you. Was there anything distinctive about his voice?”

  “I … He didn’t speak much, but…”

  Suddenly, Meredith’s eyes opened wide.

  “He did have an accent. There were a lot of New Yorkers where I lived in Florida, snowbirds and retirees. He sounded a little like them.”

  “That’s terrific!” Carrie said. “Anything else, any scars, distinguishing marks?”

  “I’m not certain. The only time I saw any of his flesh was when he took off the glove on his right hand to … to stroke himself. When he started … when he was masturbating, I was disgusted and really scared, but I did see his hand.”

  “When you saw his skin, could you tell his race?”

  “He was white.”

  “Okay. What happened after that first time?”

  “He left me. There was no food or water. I was in a lot of pain. I can’t say how long it was before he came back. I was tied to the bed. I tried to get my wrists and ankles free, but I couldn’t. The second time, it was more of the same. I didn’t talk, but he still beat me. This time, he cut me with a knife. Not bad cuts, but they were painful. Then he would burn the cuts with a cigarette. He knocked me out again and I woke up in a closet.

  “My wrists and legs were both taped together. I still had my underpants and shirt on, but I had soiled myself. I was gagging from the smell and starving. Thirst was the worst. I knew I had to escape or I would be tortured again and again until he finally killed me. That’s when I got lucky. I felt around the closet for anything I could use. There was a nail sticking out of the floorboard. It was dark in the closet and he probably never saw it. I sawed through the tape on my wrists, freed my legs, and used what was left of my strength to break open the door. It wasn’t very strong and I was desperate.

  “It was night and he wasn’t there. I was afraid to go down the driveway because I thought he could come back at any moment, so I went through the woods, and Mr. White saved me.”

  “Okay, you did great. I only have one last question. The area where Caleb White found you, there are a lot of summer cabins around there. Do you think you’d recognize the place where you were held if you saw it?”

  “I might. I only saw it at night when I ran away, but I remember a toolshed, and the cabin was big. It didn’t look like an old cabin. It looked new, like something rich people would build.”

  “When you’re stronger, would you be willing to look at cabins near the place where you came out of the forest? You’ll have police all around you, so you’ll be safe, and if you can identify the cabin, we can get him.”

  “I’ll do it.” Suddenly, Meredith’s voice sounded stronger. “I want him caught. I want him dead.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Robin had driven home from the CLE at the Hilton sky-high with excitement. She’d wanted to be a lawyer from the moment her attorney defeated the school board’s attempt to keep her off the wrestling team, and criminal law had the greatest appeal for her. Placing in Districts, being the first person in her family to graduate from college, getting into Yale Law School, and clerking for Justice Cloud were among the most amazing moments in her life, but working with Regina Barrister would be way up there.

  Robin had started to hear about Regina while she was in law school. One of the cases Regina had argued in the United States Supreme Court had been required reading in Constitutional Law, and even the East Coast newspapers occasionally carried accounts of her cases. Robin had graduated near the top of her class and could have gotten almost any federal or state clerkship she wanted, but clerking in Oregon, where Regina Barrister practiced law, had been a big selling point when she was weighing where to go. During her year at the Oregon Supreme Court, Robin had even played hooky a few times so she could drive to Portland and watch Regina in action.

  Justice Cloud had never mentioned that he knew Regina, but Robin remembered a conversation a few months ago in the judge’s chambers. After they had finished discussing a memo she had written, Justice Cloud had asked her what she wanted to do when her clerkship ended. She’d told the judge that Regina’s firm was high on her list of places where she’d like to work. Justice Cloud hadn’t said anything about Regina during the conversation or afterward, but he’d been instrumental in helping her get her dream job.

  Robin parked in front of her garden apartment at ten. The apartment was small, furnished, and messy. Robin was so busy between work and working out that she felt cleaning was an imposition on her precious free time. There would usually come a point where the mess was too awful to ignore and Robin would go into a frenzy of garbage collection, washing, and vacuuming, but she hadn’t reached that point in a while. She walked to her bedroom, passing take-out boxes, stacks of old newspapers, and general clutter.

  Robin fell into bed but was too excited to sleep. She conked out a little after midnight and was up at five on Thursday. A half hour of calisthenics and a five-mile run cleared the cobwebs. Then she showered, scarfed down a bagel, and walked to the supreme court building. As soon as she arrived, Robin went to Stanley Cloud’s chambers, but the chief justice wasn’t in yet.

  Robin tried to distract herself by working on a draft of an opinion, but she couldn’t concentrate. She wanted to tell someone about her new job, but she didn’t want to bother the other clerks or give the impression that she was bragging. The natural thing would be to call her mother, but her mother disapproved of almost everything she wanted to do.

  Robin’s high school wrestling career had thrilled her father and embarrassed her mother, who wanted a “normal” girl who would stay in her hometown, marry a local boy, and have children. Robin’s mother had not been in favor of Robin’s going to college. None of her brothers had gone. But she had tolerated Robin’s attending the state university because it was a short drive from home. She had never understood why Robin would want to go to law sc
hool, especially one that was clear across the country. Still, Robin knew that deep down her mother loved her and had her best interests at heart, so, after a moment’s hesitation, she called home.

  “Hi, Mom,” she said when her mother answered.

  “Hello, Robin. It’s nice of you to call,” her mother said, her tone frosty. “I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

  “I’ve been super busy, but I have some great news to tell you.”

  “Yes?”

  “You know my clerkship is almost over. Well, I’ve just been hired by Regina Barrister, the best criminal lawyer in the state, and I’m starting as her associate on Friday.”

  “You’re staying in Oregon?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought you’d try to get a job nearer to home.”

  “I was thinking about that,” Robin lied, “but this is an amazing opportunity.”

  Robin’s mother went quiet and Robin could almost feel her disapproval flowing across the ether.

  “It’s a really great job and I’d be learning from one of the best.”

  “I guess you have to do what you think is best for your career.”

  “This is definitely what’s best.”

  “Then I’m happy for you,” she said grudgingly.

  “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Well, I’ve got to get back to work. I just wanted you to know about the job.”

  Robin hung up. Calling her mother had been a mistake. The call had killed the joy she’d felt since Regina Barrister had offered her the job. But she’d known it probably would and she’d called anyway.

  * * *

  Justice Cloud had still not shown up by the time Robin went to lunch, which was unusual, but he was in his chambers when she got back. Robin knocked on Cloud’s doorjamb and he looked up from a brief he was reading. When he saw who was knocking, he broke into a grin.

  “I’m guessing that I’ve lost you to free agency,” Cloud quipped.