Handcuffs and Roses

by Laura Hammond

  "I made special arrangements for him to be brought over from the Don Jail to be questioned here.” Staff Superintendent Willard informed them as they entered his office before going to the interrogation room. “Because of Lisa's special abilities, I needed her to be totally clear headed when she conducts her part of this interrogation. As you both know, that place is a century and half old virtual hell hole with a lot of disturbing influences that might hinder her ability to perform her duty.” His expression was fatherly and almost protective as he looked at Lisa. James shook his head, understanding the bond between them.

  "I'll make sure that you're not disturbed, but you've probably got an hour max.” Willard promised. “As I told you two before, and I'll reiterate it, implement whatever means necessary to solve this case. And if that utterly repugnant excuse for a human being in the interrogation room is part of the plot, extract a confession.... “His eyes said what he chose not to voice. “Far as I'm concerned, criminals in this country have way too many rights and it's got to end somewhere. Now that the ante on this case has been upped to murder along with kidnapping and assault on you and that other production chap, James..."

  "Say no more Chief.... “James growled, fully understanding now why Fifty-two Division had such a disturbing reputation. And he didn't delude himself that his reputation wasn't what landed him on Superintendent Willard's radar which resulted in his transfer to the Division. James silently admitted to himself that he welcomed the extra measure of freedom granted to apprehend and get criminals convicted by whatever means necessary.

  He had confessed to Lisa last night when he took her out, that he had gone crazy in his apprehension methods after his former partner was murdered by the Nostra gang. What he hadn't confessed was that he had remained more than a little brutal in his methods with an almost vigilante mindset. While he might have been liberal in most other areas of his life, when it came to taking the bad elements off the streets and out of society on the whole, James Dalton McGuinn granted absolutely no quarter. Thus he was the last cop any criminal, particularly the ones who perpetrated crimes against kids, wanted the misfortune of encountering in the interrogation room. Once they got past sneering at his gorgeous GQ looks thinking he was a pussy, they usually faced the extremely rude awakening that ‘pretty face’ was a particularly nasty piece of work in interrogation, who relished the use of his fists or the baton. While nothing had ever stuck when he was brought on up police brutality charges, his previous division superintendent had been only too happy to recommend James for the transfer when Willard called, feeling that Fifty-two Division was a much more appropriate place for James’ ‘special talents'.

  As Lisa entered the interrogation room and pulled down the blinds at his silent indication, James slammed the door shut behind him. The first thing they also noticed was that a police baton had been left in the corner of the room. An icy smile played about James’ lips along with the chill light that glittered in his eyes as he looked at the prisoner. He picked up the baton and dropped it down on the table in front of the prisoner in a manner designed to totally intimidate him. Shane Dowd sat in the chair behind the table with his hands cuffed behind him in his prison overalls with an insolent expression on his face, refusing to be intimidated.

  "Oh fuck it's the pretty boy an’ the lesbo cunt come back to harass me again.” He sneered as the two detectives entered, leering at Lisa's breasts and crotch, obscenely licking his lips. She glowered back at him with such a look of withering disgust, feeling that if she ever truly hated someone in her life before it was this guy, especially when she thought about the innocent little girl who had just died. “Hey did anyone ever tell ya, that you could make a fuckin’ bundle turnin’ tricks fer all the perverted fags on Church an’ Wellesley?” He goaded James.

  Some people never learn.

  James wasted no time going at him with a vengeance, after removing his leather jacket and laying it on the table. He grabbed Dowd by the collar, eyeballing him. “Okay shitface, your charges have just been upped to accessory to murder along with assault and kidnapping. The child you helped that psychotic bitch to kidnap and abuse is dead. So you're going to give us some answers or you're looking at twenty-five to life..."

  "Who the fuck cares? Just one less Jew brat to grow up and pollute the world further with their kind,” Dowd spat venomously.

  It was all Lisa could do to hold back from rearranging his face as she momentarily turned away and drew a hissing breath, feeling the evil emanating off this guy and filling the room like a palpable noxious cloud. However, she was there to mentally probe him and see what she could extract over and above what he might reveal. For a doubtful moment, Lisa wondered if she was up to going into to this character's head. However, it was her job and when she thought about that poor, frozen and broken child she and James had rescued yesterday, she knew she could face the devil himself to get the answers they needed to put this heinous criminal away along with the other one they were seeking.

  Meanwhile, Dowd's comment earned him a severe punch in the stomach from a thoroughly enraged Detective James McGuinn, who was definitely in interrogator mode. Dowd doubled over momentarily, coughing and spitting on the floor, but as James roughly pulled him back up again by the back of his collar, there was still defiance and an expression of pure hatred on his face. One thing James made a point of during interrogations where he had to get physical, was to leave no visible scars but do as much damage necessary to get what he wanted.

  "I'd much rather have a world filled with them than slime balls of your kind. Now tell me, who was the woman that took Shira Levenson off the ‘film set? Otherwise you'll be singing soprano ‘sonny boy',” James demanded, kicking the chair with such a force that it almost fell back despite the size of the man sitting handcuffed to it. He then pulled the table away to give him more access to Dowd, and picked up the baton, tapping it in his other hand in battle ready mode. As he closed the space between him and Dowd, the menacing look on James McGuinn's face finally got the point across to the repugnant racist creature. And just for a moment a cloud of fear flickered in his cold reptilian eyes, proving he wasn't so cocky and tough after all.

  "You had better speak up creep, because I won't lift a finger to help you if you get him really going. He's just getting warmed up right now.” Lisa warned Dowd. “And somehow, as repugnant an excuse for a human being that you are, I don't think you really want to piss off Detective McGuinn any further."

  "I know my rights, my lawyer...” Shane sputtered, not so cocky now.

  "What lawyer? Oh, the one who just bailed on you? Right now you're ours, and with your record man, I'd say we have carte blanche to do whatever we want with you. Far as I'm concerned criminals have no rights,” James responded ominously with that chill light in his eyes that matched his voice, and completely drove the message home. Even Lisa, had she not seen the more tender and funny side of him since they had been working together as well as last night; felt the depth of sadness emanating from him when he learned that Shira had died, or felt the deep compassion from him as he held her while she cried, would have been terrified of him now.

  "Now what's it going be Dowd?” James forcefully brought the baton down on the table causing Dowd to flinch and cower, as he grabbed the man by the collar again. “The next time it's not going to be the table that I hit. So you've got two seconds to start singing like a fucking canary. Now give me a name and description of the bitch or you will be speaking in a falsetto voice by the time you leave this room. I wouldn't have figured you for such a pussy, big, tough bad ass like you willing to take the fall for some psychotic bitch to whom you probably aren't worth shit. Well?” James taunted, glancing at the gold Cartier watch on his wrist. “You keep us waiting another second.... “He held the baton up ready to use it.

  "Okay, okay, I'll tell you what you want to know man.” Shane Dowd suddenly caved-in, literally peeing himself in terror of what the detective would do. “I only know her as Darlene, and she promised to pay me
ten grand. She has it in for that Jew bitch Sandra Levenson who acted like I was dog shit under feet when I said good-mornin’ to her a coupla weeks ago...."

  "Why are you stopping? Keep talking.” Lisa ordered from where she sat across the table not wanting to get any closer to this character than she had to, especially when James had it all under control. Lisa had to admit that she was glad that it hadn't taken too long to break and totally humiliate this character. She really wasn't looking forward to seeing James operate at full tilt. His intimidation tactics were scary enough as they were. She didn't have to wonder what he would have been like had Dowd been harder to break as the image of a man's worst nightmare flashed in her brains, and she was left with no doubt that James would have delivered on his threat. Thus for his sake..as well as hers now, she was glad that he hadn't been brought to that point. Maybe their working together might mellow him out a bit, she thought, even if she might have shared his view when it came to perpetrators of crimes against kids.

  Lisa mentally probed Shane Dowd's thoughts and found that he was telling the truth, but there was such hatred, rage and darkness in him that it literally felt like being in a quagmire. “Give us a description of her,” she ordered, putting the sketch pad she had brought with her on the table and beginning to draw as she continued to probe his brain and see through his eyes, the woman they were looking for, while Dowd gave a verbal description. However, it was getting progressively harder by the second to stay in this guy's head without being affected by the toxic miasma that was his psyche.

  "When did she plan to pay you?” James picked up the questioning again.

  "After she did what we planned to do with the Levenson bitch."

  "And what's that?” Lisa asked, while quickly finishing off her sketch. “Is this what she looks like?"

  "Yeah...” Shane grunted. “She just said that she was going to make the slut pay..."

  "Pay for what, and how?” James growled.

  "The bitch stole her life and she's gonna pay.... that's all she keeps saying to me."

  "Where can we find her?"

  "Fuck man! I dunno. She just calls me when she wants to hook up. We've been fuckin’ each other fer a couple weeks now. We usually jus’ meet in a motel somewhere."

  "Do you have a number for her?” James asked.

  "Yeah, it's in my cell phone. The fuckers at the Don took it away from me."

  "Who's your carrier?"

  "Bell Mobility."

  "What's your number?” Lisa asked.

  "(416) 555-8668."

  "When was the last call you received from her?"

  "Last week Friday, before she came to set to grab the brat."

  "And what time would that have been?"

  "Hell, I dunno, do you look at the time when you're looking to get a quickie man?” Dowd asked James.

  "Look here shitface, you're in enough trouble as it is, so you think real hard before you decide to try and push me. NOW GIVE ME A FUCKING ANSWER!” James demanded, his voice like a whiplash.

  "Hell! Coulda bin ‘round four. Production jus’ was just breakin’ for lunch. Call time was ten o'clock that day an’ lunch is usually six hours after."

  Lisa made a note of it along with the other answers he gave them and what she had psychically picked up from mentally probing him.

  "How was Darlene able to take Shira without the child crying out for help?” James asked.

  "I helped her knock the brat out with chloroform when she put up a fuss about goin'.” From the menacing glare that James leveled at Dowd and the way he held up the baton in striking position, Lisa thought for a terrifying moment that he was indeed going use it after that confession. But James held his temper in check and she breathed an audible sigh of relief.

  "I think we're done here.” Lisa announced, getting up, obviously in a hurry to be out of this room and oppressive feeling of being around Dowd, “unless you've got anymore questions for him?” She asked James.

  He shook his head, casting one last contemptuous look at Shane Dowd. “Man, you stink. Oh yes, I remember now, you pissed yourself. Do remember to get a shower when you get back to lock up,” he taunted with an icy smile, picked up his coat and followed Lisa out of the room slamming the door, shutting out the ‘you’ after the ‘fuck’ that Dowd yelled back at him.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  "Do you always humiliate them that way?” Lisa asked James as they walked back towards Willard's office.

  "Only the ones who truly deserve it."

  "And he certainly did, I'd say. James."

  "Yes?"

  "Be careful."

  James stopped, looking at her curiously. “You say that with a sense of foreboding. Is there something I should know?"

  "There's a lot you should know but now is not the time. Let's just go and fill Chief in on what we've got, and get a hold of Dowd's phone records so we can trace the psychotic Darlene.” Lisa wondered if she was just being over imaginative because she hadn't slept well last night despite falling asleep and waking up in his arms. Shira's death had really shaken her up, more so than any other case she had ever dealt with involving children. Lisa had sensed that Shira was a special child who reminded her of herself at that age, when she connected with the child that second time asking her to show her where she was being held. It was such waste and everything within her riled at the ignominy of it all that such a sweet child had to die so needlessly.

  Then going into Shane Dowd's head was something never wanted to repeat if she could help it. The man, although he probably didn't realize it yet, was truly evil and the perfect tool to be used by Darlene ... if that was really her name. Even if he managed by some misplacement of justice to beat this rap, he was going to offend and re-offend, each time the crimes more heinous than before, making Paul Bernardo and Clifford Olsen look like choir boys. It was too bad that the concept of arresting someone for future crimes as in 'Minority Report' was only a Hollywood fantasy.

  Lisa wondered if she should tell Chief what she saw, but decided to wait, get some extra rest then tune in again to Dowd from a distance. Then and only then, when she was fully rested and clear headed, should she receive the same disturbing images, would she reveal what she knew. Suddenly she feared for James’ safety after the way he had humiliated Dowd in the interrogation room. Lisa knew without a doubt that James had just put himself in Dowd's crosshairs.

  Yet tired as she was, as she thought about it her body still tingled from the memory of James’ hands and mouth working their intoxicating magic on her, along with the sensuous eroticism of the ropes that had bound her, and the handcuffs and shackles that had he had later restrained her with as he made love to her. Two scarlet spots momentarily coloured her cheeks, but she couldn't suppress the sheepish smile that played about her lips.

  "What a time for you to be thinking about that woman.” James grinned, accurately perceiving what was going on in her head.

  "Exactly my sentiments,” Lisa said, blushing.

  "Don't worry my sweet we'll make up for lost time, maybe sooner than you think. But right now we've got work to do."

  "Don't I know it! Is my face red?"

  "Like a tomato,” he teased.

  "Shit! I can't go into the Chief's office like that...!"

  "Come on, I'm just yanking your chain."

  "You devil McGuinn!” Lisa pouted.

  "I've been called worse names sweetheart and proud to have earned every one of them.” James chortled. Looking at him now, one would have never guessed that he was the utterly terrifying interrogator of just minutes ago. “I can't let the word get around that deep down I'm really a nice guy, who just happens to despise perverts, child abusers and child murderers."

  "Ohmygawd! It must be love or lust in the air! McGuinn you just got to this Division and you've already got the best damn lady cop in here in your clutches.” One of the other uniformed cops sitting at his desk filling out reports, said as he looked up when he heard them carrying on with each other.

&nbs
p; "Hey, what can I say? Some guys are just blessed with all the luck.” James shot back in a good natured manner.

  "Yeah, I'd say,” came the dry comment from another cop close by.

  "SO WHAT HAVE you two got for me?” Superintendent Willard asked anxiously as they entered his office seconds later, looking pointedly at Lisa then at James with a touch of uncertainty.

  "Don't worry no broken bones and no spilled blood. I'm damn good at what I do.” James assured him drolly, with a grin. “I just put the fear of God into him and literally made him piss himself..."

  "You're really a sonofobitch in interrogation aren't you McGuinn?” Willard remarked inanely, breathing a sigh of relief. James didn't have to wonder that maybe common sense had kicked in after Chief had given him carte blanche to use whatever means necessary to obtain a confession from Dowd. This case, after all, was personal to him.

  "Your worst fucking nightmare if you turn out to be perp that hurts kids in any form or fashion, but isn't that why you brought me to this division Chief?” James asked dryly in response to Willard's last statement.

  "Yes, I admit it's one of the reasons. By the way, I just received word while you were interrogating Dowd, your informant Lenny Golding was murdered last night."

  "How?” James asked in a low, calm tone but his face and posture told a different story.

  "It appears a woman, more than likely the one we're looking for, dressed as a nurse entered his room and suffocated him with a pillow. She might have gotten away with it had one of the other patients not awoken to go to the can. He saw what was happening and yelled for help. She shot at him but only got him on one leg."

  "Would he be able to talk to us? Maybe he got a good enough look at her?"

  "He might be pretty shaken up, no doubt, but his name is Joe Graziano. In the meantime let's have what you two got."