ALPHABET MURDERS - ANGIE BARTONI CASE FILES #1 (Detective Angie Bartoni Case Files)

by Marshall Huffman

  Wow. An honest answer. Usually I got a lot of CYA when I asked something like that.

  “When would that take place?”

  “We are working on it right now. I would hope by no later than this afternoon. Now if you will excuse me, I have another operation scheduled in twenty minutes and I need to get prepared.”

  “Thank you for your candor, Doctor Lin.”

  “Better to tell it like it is than dance around the subject,” he said and did the quick bow thing again.

  I caught myself almost doing it back. I was more than ready to get out of there. I had been there for six hours with only junk food to eat. I needed real food. Maybe a Big Mac and fries. Real food.

  ***

  The doctor had been able to confirm that it was Francisca Welch from the photo I showed him. I arranged for a guard to be placed at her door until she was lifelined to another facility. Once she was transferred there I would make sure she had protection twenty-four/seven.

  “Want me to call the parents?” the FBI honcho asked.

  “No. I’m going to tell them in person. I want them to know firsthand. I will escort them to the other hospital as soon as they have everything arranged. I’m leaving Marcus here and he can call me with an update.”

  “Be happy to go along,” he offered.

  Maybe I just being a selfish jerk but for some reason I didn’t want him or anyone else tagging along.

  “Thanks but no. I would rather do this myself,” I finally said.

  His look said he wasn’t used to being told no. Hey, he could just get over it. He wasn’t my boss. Before he could say anything else I turned and headed for the door. I half expected him to follow me but when I looked back he was heading down the hall.

  It took a little over twenty minutes to get to the Welch’s house. Just as I was getting out of the car my cell did its usual happy tune.

  “Bartoni.”

  “She is going to St. Vincent on Township Line Road.”

  “Got it. When?”

  “The lifeline chopper is on its way right now.”

  “Thanks. See you in a few,” I said, closing my phone.

  I walked up to the door and it opened just as it was about to ring the bell. No doubt about it, this woman has a sixth sense.

  “Detective. Do you have word on Fran?” she asked, her husband hovering behind her.

  “We have her. She is...”

  “Oh, thank God. Thank God. Oh..I..I don’t...” was all she managed to get out before she turned and buried her face in her husband’s chest. He stood there holding her while she sobbed.

  “Is...is she alright?” he finally managed to get out.

  “She is alive. She was hurt pretty badly but they have been working on her and have her stabilized. She is going to be transferred to St. Vincent Hospital. Do you know where that is?”

  “St. Vincent? St. Vincent. Oh, the one up on the north side. High School Road or something like that.”

  “Township Line Road,” I corrected.

  “Yes. Whatever. I know where it is.”

  “What did they do to my baby?” Marsha suddenly turned and asked.

  “She wasn’t molested. The doctors checked. She was tied up and dumped in the woods. Luckily a troop of Boy Scouts stumbled on her and called 911.”

  “Was she beaten?”

  “Not in the sense you mean probably. She was tossed out of a vehicle we suspect and she landed on a log. It ruptured her spleen. They had to remove it to stabilize her.”

  “Oh my God. My baby,” Marsha said and turned and buried her face in James Welch’s chest again.

  “If you want, I can have you follow me to the Hospital. I’m headed there as soon as we are finished here,” I told them.

  James was in a daze and it took a second before what I said sank in.

  “Uh..yes. That would be great. Marsha,” he said pulling her away from his chest, “Get your things. We need to go see Fran.”

  “Oh God. My baby,” she wailed.

  James gently shook her, “Marsha. Marsha. We need to get to the hospital. We need to go to Fran. She needs us to be strong for her. Can you do that?”

  She just looked at him for a few seconds then shook her head ‘yes’.

  “Good. Get your purse and whatever else you need. We are going to follow Detective Bartoni to the hospital. Now hurry.”

  Marsha took off and was back in less than a minute. They loaded into their car and I backed out of the drive and watched as he fell in behind me.

  Nineteen minutes later we pulled into the parking lot of the St. Vincent Hospital. It took a few minutes and a couple of false starts before we located where they had taken her. She was in the critical care unit on the ninth floor.

  When we got there Marcus and Brad Pendergrass were sitting in the lounge.

  “What’s happening?” I asked.”

  “They took her right in. She was having a lot of difficulty breathing. They told us to wait out here until she was stable again.”

  “Oh dear God,” Marsha whispered.

  Yeah, I have to admit, I was kind of thinking that myself. This would be a good time for Him to step in and do one of his 'fix it' things.

  “I want protection on her while she is here. I’ll clear it with the chief.”

  “Already have. A cop is on his way over right now.”

  “Thanks Marcus. You’re the best.”

  “I know,” he replied and actually smiled.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Get out of there right now,” the man yelled and the boy curled up on the floor of the closet.

  “No. Please. Don’t. I don’t want to do this.”

  “You little shit. Get out of there this minute or I’ll drag you out and you know what that means.”

  “Please. Don’t. I’m not a girl. Please don’t make me.”

  “Damn it. You asked for it.”

  “Okay. Okay. I’m coming out. Please, please, please don’t make me papa.”

  He reached in and grabbed the crying boy by the hair and pulled him out of the closet.

  “Get the dress and panties on. The bra too,” the man yelled at the kid.

  There was nothing he could do. He put the bra on and stuffed it with tissue the way he was supposed to. Pulling the dress up around his skinny waist, he used the big pin to fasten it.

  The man had walked over to the couch and sat down, smiling as the boy came in the room.

  “Hi baby girl,” he said.

  “Please,” the boy replied.

  “Don’t you dare start. Don’t spoil it for me. Get some lipstick on. The bright red one,” the man directed.

  He had no way out. If he didn’t do as he was told the man would beat him to within an inch of his life. He had done it many times before when something set him off. He looked in the mirror and slowly put the garish red lipstick on. He looked hideous.

  “Come on. I’m waiting,” the man yelled.

  The boy walked over to where the man sat and stood in front of him.

  “Well, young lady. That looks much better. Raise you skirt for me,” he said with a sickening leer on his face.

  The boy hesitantly raised the skirt. It was ridicules. It was obvious he wasn’t a girl.

  “Nice. Turn around,” the man ordered.

  “Papa, don’t make me do this, please,” the boy pleaded.

  “Shut up. If I have to tell you again you know what will happen. Is that what you want? You want me to really hurt you? I would enjoy that. Why don’t you whine one more time and see what happens? Is that what you want?”

  The boy just stood there holding the skirt up.

  “Damn you. You are really pissing me off. I asked you a question.”

  “Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?”

  “Girl. I’m warning you for the last time. Now get down on your knees and come over here. You know what I want,” he said unzipping his fly.

  “No. Not again you bastard,” he said and ran toward the hall
. He raced down to where the bedrooms were and burst in. His mother was sitting on the bed watching an old small screen color television.

  “Momma. Momma. Help me. Don’t let him do this to me. Please momma. Please.”

  “Hush child. He is your father. You have to do what he tells you.”

  “No mamma. I’m not his little girl. Please don’t let him do this.”

  “He is your father,” she yelled at him.

  “You are as bad as he is. You are...”

  Just then his head was yanked back. He father had grabbed him by the hair and started pulling him out of the room. He drug him down the hall to the front room and threw him on the floor. Before the boy could scramble up, the man was on top of him, shoving the skirt up and ripping the panties off.

  “You brought this on yourself. You could have just taken care of me but now...now it’s going to be like this, he said and shoved himself inside the boy.

  He screamed and his father continued to pound into him, over and over. At some point he must have blacked out. When he came to he was back in the closet. He hurt all over. He must have been beaten while he was out. At least he wasn’t awake for that part. He lay curled up on the floor, trying to blank everything out of his mind. Finally he fell asleep but the dreams were almost as bad as the reality.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Listen up people,” the captain said.

  We were all crowded into the conference room with hardly an inch to spare.

  “I just got off the phone with the Mayor. He has decided that the FBI should take over the lead on this case.”

  A loud chorus of moans came from the precinct cops. Even Aaron seemed perturbed by this news.

  “For Christ sakes,” I heard him mutter.

  “Yeah, I know. It sucks but that’s the reality. Agent Pendergrass is going to be the lead. They are being joined by two other agents in the next few hours. You can be as pissed as you want but the reality is that we are no longer in charge of the case. Agent Pendergrass,” the captain said, indicating the FBI man.

  “I know this isn’t exactly pleasant..”

  “You got that shit right,” Marcus said loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “But I received a call from the regional director with orders to assume the lead on this investigation. I know you think we are all arrogant assholes but I didn’t ask for this. It just landed on my doorstep. I don’t intend to change much. I would like the same teams to stay on and help with the investigation..”

  “As in being gofers for you guys?” Marcus asked.

  “No. I still want you to do your job. The only difference is that I will need any information you gather. I don’t want to be left out of the loop on anything. Other than that, I don’t intend to change much. The one thing this does do for us is give us instant access to the FBI labs and database. We can get faster results now that the FBI has the lead,” Pendergrass said.

  It was a good point actually. I mean we had a lot of DNA from the first victims but even so, no match. We even had a few partial fingerprints but they didn’t match anyone on file. Whoever this monster was, he had managed to stay under the radar making our job just that much harder.

  “Have you checked on Francisca Welch lately?” I asked.

  “Uh, no. Not today.”

  “Mind if I do?”

  “No problem. Let me know how she is doing.”

  Well duh. Did he think I was going to keep it a big secret? They had only been in charge a few minutes and already I didn’t like it.

  Rather than just calling and having to go through one of those stupid automated systems where you have to answer twenty questions before you were suddenly disconnected, I decided to drive to St. Vincent and see what I could find out. Nothing annoys me more than having to push 1 for English. This is America right? Well it used to be anyway, now I’m not so sure.

  The sun was out, the day was warm and the trees were showing signs of spring. All in all, a nice day for a drive. I didn’t ask Marcus to come along because I didn’t feel like have a curmudgeon along on such a nice day. Even the traffic was cooperating and I slid into a parking slot just a few feet from the hospital entrance. Definitely my lucky day.

  I found Doctor Lin on the ninth floor reading a patient's chart.

  “Doctor Lin. Detective Bartoni. We met the other day.”

  “Yes. Yes. I remember. You are here to check on the Welch girl.”

  “That’s the one. How is she doing?”

  “Um..better. Not good, but better. We have been giving her a lot of antibiotics. She is not out of the woods yet. I am concerned about her hands and feet. The circulation was cut off for quite a long time.”

  “Concerned? Concerned how?”

  “Well, with no blood going to the extremities for that long it could do permanent damage. Peripheral vascular disease could cause her to lose her feet and hands.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “It isn’t certain yet. We have brought in one of the world’s leading vascular surgeons, Doctor Rumsfeld. He just finished examining her a few minutes ago.”

  “Is she awake? Can she talk yet?”

  “Well, she is in and out. I’m not too keen on you asking her a bunch of questions. She is very pensive. Her parents have been staying with her every moment.”

  “Doctor Lin. The man who did this to her has killed five other young girls. He sexually abuses them and then buries them alive. She saw this monster. The sooner I talk to her the better the chance we get this creep before he grabs the next girl,” I said.

  “I understand. Honestly, I do. I know it is important but she is so fragile at this point. A lot of questions could stress her and set her recovery back.”

  “Well, the other five girls didn’t recover at all. The next one may not as well.”

  I wasn’t trying to be a hardass but this guy wasn’t going to just give up because Fran didn’t die. He didn’t even know she had survived. We had intentionally withheld her name and all the details. We even lied about the location. So far we were staying ahead of the media but I knew it wouldn’t last long.

  “Let me go talk to her parents and look in on her. If I feel she can answer a few questions I’ll let you talk to her. Otherwise you are just going to have to wait a little longer,” the good doctor told me.

  “I don’t have much choice do I? Please tell the Welch’s how important this is.”

  “I will convey your message,” he said and did a slight bow again.

  I sat down in the lounge and dug out my cell phone.

  “Marcus, its Bartoni.”

  “I guess you think I’m too dumb to know who is calling me.”

  “Ahh, don’t be a prick. I don’t need it.”

  “Yeah, let me know when you do, Bartoni.”

  “Look, tell the captain I may be here awhile. She is still in pretty poor shape but the doctor is considering letting me talk to her for a few minutes. For now, I’m just burning time.”

  “Okay, I’ll let the captain know. Mr. FBI too.”

  “Thanks. I’ll call you when I know more.”

  “Chao Bella,” he said and hung up.

  Bella my butt. Marcus is more German that Italian.

  **

  I had read just about every year old magazine in the waiting room when Doctor Lin came out to find me.

  “Detective. I am not very happy about this but Mr. and Mrs. Welch said you could talk to her if you thought it would help find this man.”

  “That’s great. When?”

  “Now, but I must warn you, I have only agreed to five minutes. I do not want to over exhaust her.”

  “I understand. I’ll be as brief as I possibly can.”

  “Five minutes,” he warned.

  “Got it.”

  He led me down the hall to a door with a cop stationed outside. I flipped him my badge. My badge, okay?

  I guess I wasn’t as prepared as I thought. Fran looked like she had been tossed around inside of a cement truck. She had cut
s and bruises on her face, neck and arms. That’s only what I could see. She looked so pale that I wondered if they had drained all her blood by mistake.

  Marsha and James were sitting in chairs that had been brought up next to the bed. Marsha was holding Fran’s hand.

  “I’m sorry to have to do this but he is still out there and I want to get this guy.”

  “We understand,” James assured me.

  I looked down at Fran. She was awake but it was easy to see she wasn’t totally cognizant.

  “Frannie. I’m Detective Bartoni. Do you remember being taken from your yard?”

  “Yes,” she said weakly.

  “Did you see the man that took you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you describe him?”

  No answer.

  “Frannie? Can you tell me what he looked like? How tall he was?”

  “I don’t know. About my dad’s height.”

  “Good. Good. Was he fat or skinny?”

  “Kind of in the middle. Maybe a little thin.”

  “Very good. Color of his hair?”

  “Uh...Uh..kind of blond but not really.”

  “Like mine?” I said, showing her my ‘dishwater’ kind of brown hair.

  “Yeah. Maybe a little lighter but not much.”

  “Any hair on his face?”

  “Kind of like what all those actors have. Like they needed to shave but didn’t get around to it.”

  “Did you see the car he took you in?”

  “It was a van. Kind of white. Maybe tan. Or it could have been really dirty.”

  “This is very good Fran. You are doing excellent.”

  “Okay.”

  “What else can you remember. Do you know where he took you?”

  “No. He had a bag over my head once he got me in the van. I couldn’t breathe. I needed my inhaler but my hands were behind my back.”

  “Did he say anything to you?”

  “That I was going to be his daughter. That he was sure I was the one.”

  “His daughter?”

  “He was crazy. Yelling and walking back and forth.”