THE FOURTH BULLET: A Novel of Suspense

by Patrick Dakin

  He passes a couple of teenagers hitchhiking. They’re carrying large backpacks and they look exhausted. The girl is earthy looking, wearing very short shorts, with frizzy hair tied in a messy bundle at the back of her head. The boy is short and dirty looking. It appears they’ve been on the road for a long time. Too bad she’s not my type, Dupree muses. A little company would be nice. He smiles to himself at what the meaning of ‘company’ would entail.

  With his mind now occupied with these thoughts he automatically slips into hunting mode.

  18

  “Lillian is flying in today from Santa Fe,” Jakes calls to Tristan as she’s leaving for the university. “Could you pick her up at the airport for me?”

  “Yes, of course, Daddy,” Tristan says resignedly. “What time?”

  “Around seven tonight. Thanks, baby.”

  Her father is so uncharacteristically dependent now. It tugs at her heartstrings. She walks into the kitchen where he’s sitting with a coffee. She leans down and gently kisses his forehead. “I’ll have Keith take me.”

  “Great.”

  “Did you have a good night?”

  “It was okay.”

  “More headaches?”

  “No, no. Just anxious to get this business over with, that’s all.”

  “It worries me that you work so hard, Daddy. You really need to take it easier. You know what the doctor---”

  “Everything’s fine, sweetheart,” Jake consoles her. “Who’s your escort this morning?”

  “Officer Murillo has the day shift this week. He’s a very sweet man but I think he’s starting to hate me. Guard duty is very boring for him.”

  “Ed Murillo. I know him well,” Jake says. “In fact, why don’t you invite him in for a minute. It’s been a long time since I’ve said hello to him.”

  “Sure.”

  Tristan goes to the front door and signals Murillo to come in. A minute later he joins Jake and Tristan in the kitchen.

  “Eduardo,” Jake says when he sees him. “Cómo está, mi amigo?” It’s good to see his old friend. Murillo has put on some weight since the last time Jake saw him and he’s a little greyer, too.

  “Muy bien, jeffe. Y usted?”

  “Mas o menos.”

  “I didn’t know you spoke Spanish, Daddy,” Tristan says.

  “I don’t,” Jake assures her. “That’s about the extent of my Español

  I’m afraid.”

  Murillo shakes his head. “No es verdad, Jake.” Then to Tristan, Murillo confides that Jake became very conversant back in the day, when he used to drive a patrol car in East L.A. “You remember those days, hey, Jake.”

  “Oh, yeah, I remember alright, Ed. Say, you must be coming up on retirement one of these days, huh?”

  “Another seven months, then I’ll be knee deep in the sweet grass for the duration.”

  “Sorry to interrupt your reminiscences,” Tristan says, “but I have to get going.”

  “Okay,” Murillo says. “Hasta luego, Jake.”

  “Chao, amigo. Stop by for a visit when you've got the time. We'll catch up on the bad old days.”

  “Gustarío.”

  Left on his own Jake spends most of the day preparing for Lillian’s return. Washing the bedding in the guest room, vacuuming, and a little light yard work use up all the energy he can muster.

  Tristan returns from her classes in the late afternoon and goes to the kitchen to prepare a supper of salad and tacos for herself and Jake before leaving to pick up Lillian. After a shower Jake turns on the early news and relaxes in the den with a beer.

  There are a few local issues that lead the news but about five minutes into things there’s a report of an eighteen-year-old video store clerk named Melanie Fowler who went missing while walking home from work in Klamath Falls, Oregon, yesterday. Her stabbed and beaten body was found this morning discarded by the roadside south of the city.

  A high school graduation picture of the girl is shown as an inset. Long dark hair, smoky eyes, startlingly beautiful – she could be the younger sister of any one of the sixteen victims on their list in California as well as the most recent one in Canada.

  A shiver of apprehension runs the length of Jake’s spine. If, as they suspect, their guy was the Vancouver killer, it looks like there’s a strong possibility he’s heading back home.

  * *

  The next morning Vancouver P.D. receives confirmation that d.n.a. matches have been confirmed. Darlene Belik was killed by the same person responsible for the L.A. murders.

  With no results from the province-wide ‘person of interest’ alert issued several days earlier, Inspector Rene Fortier reluctantly concedes that, if this is their man, he has probably crossed back into the U.S. or is heading east across Canada. Fortier decides to let the California detectives, Schultz and Abrams, in on his suspicions. He puts the cards the detectives left on their visit in front of him and dials the L.A. precinct.

  “May I speak with Detective Schultz please,” Fortier says after being transferred to Homicide.

  “I’m sorry, sir, Detective Schultz has checked out for the afternoon. Would you care to leave a message?”

  “Is Detective Abrams available by any chance?”

  “Yes, sir. Please hold while I connect you.”

  “Homicide. Abrams.”

  “Detective Abrams, this is Inspector Fortier, Vancouver P.D.”

  “Yes, Inspector. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m not sure you can do anything for me, Detective. I just wanted to pass along a possible lead we have on our mutual case.”

  “Oh?”

  “We have reason to believe a Caucasian male driving a white van with California plates - 9XKJ430 - should be checked out.”

  There’s a slight pause. “And why is this individual of interest to us, Inspector?”

  Fortier is almost embarrassed to admit the flimsy basis on which he has come up with this lead but explains the circumstances with as much aplomb as he can gather.

  Abrams hears him out. “Okay, well thanks for passing this along, Inspector. We’ll get right on it.”

  Fortier can sense the lack of enthusiasm. “Alright then. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye, Inspector.”

  Abrams sits quietly at his desk for several minutes after hanging up. He looks at the notes he has scratched out on a yellow legal pad, then rips the page from the pad and buries it under a pile of other less than promising leads to follow up.

  * *

  Jake waits impatiently while Schultz’s cell phone goes to message mode. “Bobby, it’s Jake. I just saw something very interesting on the news. Please call me when you get this.”

  Twenty minutes later Jake’s call is returned but it’s obvious Schultz is well into the sauce. “Whussup, Jake?”

  “There was a girl murdered yesterday in Klamath Falls,” Jake says without preamble. “Her body was found this morning and I’d say there’s a good chance the perp is our guy. The m.o. fits. The girl was stabbed repeatedly and she’s definitely a close match in terms of looks. I think you should get in touch with Klamath Falls P.D.”

  “Okay, will do, Jake. I’ll let ya know what I find out tomorrow.”

  Judging by the background noise, Bobby is calling from a bar. It’s very early in the day for him to be as bagged as he sounds. Jake isn’t even sure he’ll remember the call by morning.

  Not for the first time a glimmer of doubt about Bobby’s ability to do his job enters Jake’s mind.

  19

  Lillian’s return is a great sense of relief for Jake. When he hears Keith Abrams’ car pull into the driveway Jake goes to the door to greet her. If he ever harbored any doubts that he was falling in love with the woman they evaporate the moment he sees her face. He doesn’t even pretend to be anything but overjoyed by her presence. When she reaches him he holds her in a tight embrace for long enough to let his feelings speak for themselves. Lillian looks at him with some concern. “Is everything okay, Jake?” she whispers in
his ear.

  “Everything’s fine now that you’re here,” he responds quietly.

  “Keith and I are going out for awhile,” Tristan says. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  “Say hello to Keith for me,” Jake says. He’s tempted to go out to the car to have a quiet word with Keith about his suspicions concerning the murdered girl in Oregon but decides to let it go for the time being.

  “You look anxious about something,” Lillian says when they’re alone.

  “I don’t suppose you happened to see the news this evening.”

  Lillian shakes her head. “No. Why?”

  “There was a young girl murdered in Klamath Falls, Oregon, yesterday. The police found her body this morning, dumped beside the road south of the city. It has a lot of similarities to the murders here. The girl was stabbed repeatedly and raped. And she bears a strong resemblance to our killer’s victims. I think it’s him. And now that we know it was him that killed the girl in Vancouver I think it's very likely he’s heading back here.”

  “The police there have no leads?”

  “Not that they’re talking about. I called Bobby right after I saw the newscast and put him onto it.”

  “Anything else on the French end,” Lillian asks.

  “No, not yet.”

  “I guess I’ll make some calls tomorrow. There’s nothing else we can do at the moment.”

  “There’s one other thing, Lil.”

  Lillian can read the worry in Jake’s face. “What is it?”

  “I’m worried about Bobby. He’s drinking heavy and … he’s lying to me about shit that doesn't make sense.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean … guys will be guys. We all know the bullshit flies when we down a few drinks. But Bobby’s being deceitful in a way that concerns me. I’m beginning to have real concerns about him.”

  “Have you talked to him about it?”

  “No. I can’t think of a way to do it that won't cause problems.”

  “I don’t know what to suggest, Jake. I know you guys were close once. Maybe you just have to be honest with him and let the chips fall where they may.”

  Jake is quiet for a while. “I’ve got a better idea,” he finally says.

  “Yeah?”

  He leers lasciviously. “We’ve got the place all to ourselves. I think it’s time we got this relationship on a proper footing.”

  A smile slowly works its way across Lillian’s face. “Well … I think maybe you’re right.”

  Jake takes her hand and leads her up the stairs to his bedroom.

  Once there, Lillian stops him in the midst of unbuttoning her blouse. “You sure you’re up for this, Jake?”

  “Don’t know,” he responds. “If it kills me, I’ll die happy.”

  “Not exactly the words of love a girl yearns for,” Lillian says, teasing.

  Jake misses not a beat in either his response or his activity. “If I survive this one,” he says, his heart racing, “I promise I’ll do better next time.”

  * *

  When Keith Abrams picks up Bobby Schultz early the next morning outside his apartment building it is obvious the older man is in no shape to face a day of work.

  “You okay, Bobby?” Abrams asks, well aware of the cause of his partner’s condition. “You look like you’ve been run hard and put away wet.”

  Schultz is in a black mood. “Just drive the car, Keith. I can live without the nagging.”

  Abrams accepts the rebuke without further comment. “We’ve got an appointment to see a woman who thinks she’s being followed by the Goddess Slayer,” he says.

  “What’s she look like?”

  “I dunno, but she’s seventy-eight.”

  “Yeah,” Schultz says, “a real goddess I’m sure. Anything else we have to check out?”

  “Nothing even remotely interesting,” Abrams answers.

  Suddenly Schultz remembers the call from Jake Foley last night. “There was a girl killed in Klamath Falls a couple days ago. Jake thinks it might be our guy. We’d better touch base with them, see what they’ve got.”

  * *

  In northern California Marius Dupree quietly and persistently makes his way south. The brief distraction in Klamath Falls was delightful but not entirely satisfying. The image of Tristan Foley has taken center stage in his mind. Now that, he thinks to himself, will be an encounter worthy of chancing a return to the City of Angels.

  The nickname for his adopted city is simply so fitting.

  * *

  Jake and Lillian spend the morning camped in front of their computers. A couple of files they’ve been waiting for arrive via email. One is immediately discounted when they discover the actor is only five six. None of the descriptions they have received from witnesses indicate the perp is anything other than tall. Accounts have varied from tall to very tall but never on the short side. The other file is kept as a potential and added to the list they’ll have to consider further when the inventory of possible candidates is completed. That list, to date, numbers six. Not bad considering what they started with, but a lot of work nonetheless.

  “You know, something continues to eat at me,” Lillian says as they stop for a few minutes to rest their eyes.

  “Yeah, what’s that?” Jake says.

  “Why this guy, who has a clear penchant for murdering and raping beautiful, dark-haired, young women all of a sudden decides he wants to kill a couple of cops. This is completely contrary to his whole m.o. prior to or since that time.”

  “You said before you figured it was personal - that he was reacting to what I'd said about him during that interview.”

  “Maybe. But I've been reconsidering things - trying to think outside the box. For example, ask yourself who benefits from the fact that you and Bleeker are no longer investigating these murders?"

  Jake shrugs. "The more obvious question is: how would the killer benefit from that fact?"

  Lillian is squinting her eyes at Jake in concentration. She points a finger at him. “Maybe it’s not him directly who benefits,” she says. “Or, to be more accurate, maybe not only him .”

  “You’ve lost me,” Jake admits.

  “If you and Gus Bleeker are suddenly out of the picture, doesn’t Bobby Schultz benefit?”

  “What!?”

  “Now wait, hear me out. You’ve told me Bobby was pissed off when he and Abrams weren’t named as lead detectives in the case right from the get go. Right?”

  “Well, yeah, but Jesus, Lil, that’s a hell of a stretch---”

  “And is it not the case that you’ve had a bad feeling since early on in the investigation that the killer was being tipped off? You’ve mentioned several times that he seemed to have an uncanny ability to know what action the cops were taking, or going to take.”

  “I’ve known Bobby for twenty years. I admit it looks like he’s going off the rails a bit with the booze but still … what you’re suggesting is way too bizarre. I mean, hell, you’re saying he’s colluding with a prolific serial killer so he can benefit? How is he benefitting? If anything he’s made to look incompetent by not catching him.”

  “You told me Bobby’s finances are pretty shitty. And the killer is obviously not hurting for money.”

  “I’m sorry, Lil, but this just doesn’t make sense to me. First of all, assuming for a moment this were all possible, Bobby would be able to tip off the killer without being lead on the case.”

  “Sure, but as lead he could make sure the case isn’t solved with his subversive intervention. And, as lead, he has access to certain information he wouldn’t otherwise have. He’s in a much better position to ensure the killer is never captured.”

  “Sorry, this just---”

  “And there’s also the fact that his drinking is escalating lately. Maybe the stress is getting to him.”

  Jake looks long and hard at Lillian. “Are you seriously thinking of this as a credible theory?”

  Lillian shrugs. “I’m not entirely discoun
ting it. You said yourself just the other day you’ve caught him in several lies. You even said you’re losing faith in his ability to solve the case.”

  When Jake doesn’t respond Lillian puts her hand on his arm. “Why don’t you try reading him?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know damn well what I’m talking about,” Lillian says.

  “Lil, you’re vastly overrating my minor ability to sense the occasional---”

  “You are so full of shit! I’m not underestimating anything and you know it.”

  “Calm down, I---”

  “Listen, Jake, stop lying to me about your … whatever you want to call it. And stop lying to yourself, if that’s what you’re doing. I think you have an incredible ability. And I think maybe you can use it to get the guy who killed seventeen girls and your partner before, God forbid, he makes good on his threat against Tristan.”

  Heard it stated so concisely, Jake has to admit Lillian is right to push the point. “Okay,” he says, “I’ll try. But I doubt it will do us any good. And I feel like a total asshole treating a friend this way.”

  “If I’m wrong about him, so be it. He never needs to know we had suspicions about him.”

  “You ever had suspicions, not we.”

  Lillian gives Jake a look of weary resignation. “Fine.”

  20

  When Officer Ed Murillo drops Tristan off at home Jake is waiting to intercept him. While Jake greets his daughter he motions to Murillo to wait a moment. “You have a good day, honey?”

  “It was okay. How are you doing?”

  “I’m good. I just want to have a quick word with Officer Murillo. You go ahead inside.”