The Front Range Butcher: A Jarvis Mann Private Detective HardBoiled Mystery Novel (Jarvis Mann Detective Book 7)

by R Weir

  As usual he teased about what he knew without fully admitting it, and he knew plenty about the attack. I planned to show him I couldn’t be easily persuaded.

  “Nice contradictory sentence. You should be in politics.”

  “More fun being in the background. A puppet master so to speak.” More joy in his voice.

  “Are you controlling the strings on your brother-in-law?”

  “You’ve met Windsor?” He was surprised for once.

  “No.”

  “Such a shame. He is one of a kind. Has high aspirations. Might even go as high as the White House.” He was looking right at me, enjoying our back and forth.

  “The company he keeps, I would say he has a good chance. Few men move up the ladder without powerful men with money backing them.”

  He nodded in agreement. “Power and money are important in many businesses.”

  “Agreed. But you didn’t answer my question. Are you controlling him? Or maybe better yet do you want to control him?”

  “No comment.” His eyes looked off in the distance with his answer.

  “Did you have political aspirations, Simon?”

  Simon frowned. “Politics is so boring. Money and control are more exciting. I hope you’re here for something more stimulating.”

  I found a chair and pulled it up in front of him, so he had no choice to look at me, eye to eye. It was time to try a different tact.

  “What about your sister? What was it like growing up together?”

  He shrugged. “It was fine. I looked up to her.”

  “She was older than you?”

  “Yes. By a couple of years.”

  “I stopped by and talked with her a few days ago.”

  “Really. How is Christina?” He sounded strangely happy to hear her name, I wondered if it was part of his act.

  “Pissed off at me, once she found out who I was.”

  He laughed and coughed. “Playing a role were you. What disguise did you use?”

  “Patient.”

  “Clever. But I wouldn’t worry. Pissed is a natural state for her.”

  “Really. I thought you looked up to her.” I kept my stare locked on him.

  “I did, when young and foolish. As we got older much changed. Puberty and boys solicited the evolution in our relationship.”

  “How so?”

  Attached to his wheelchair was a cup holder. He grabbed his cup and took a drink of what appeared to be juice.

  “She no longer had time for me or wanted me around. Instead she started wearing makeup and revealing clothing to stir up the boys she fancied. I caught her once making out with one, his hand in her pants, her moans and sighs filling the air. She liked getting hot and bothered, though she would say otherwise.” He seemed at ease talking about seeing his sister at that moment, but his body language said otherwise, and he squirmed while speaking.

  “When you saw that, how did it make you feel?” I was pushing to get more out of him, playing on his uneasiness.

  “Are you shrinking me, Jarvis?”

  I shrugged. “Looking for answers on how you came to be.”

  “Came to be a man in a wheelchair.” He smirked.

  “That may be who you are now. But I know you were more than that. A screwed-up man who tortured innocent women. Serial killers aren’t always born that way. Something in their past can be a trigger. Maybe it was related to your sister…why you want to lash out at women.”

  “Interesting theory.” Though we were nearly nose to nose, his eyes looked away with those words.

  “It is. But again, you didn’t answer my question. Were you angry seeing your sister being fingered by another boy?”

  There was a flare of rage in Simon’s eyes, the veins in his arms bulging. By a count of five it was gone and he was looking at me again.

  “She had needs she was exploring. Normal for a teenager.”

  “How about your needs. What did you do to get your rocks off?”

  The rage returned. He reached forward and grabbed my arm, like he had done once before. The strength was incredible, like a nuclear reactor had fired inside of him. My fingers started to go numb and I pulled away, twisting loose.

  “You’re quite strong when angry,” I observed. “Are you strong enough to get out of that chair?”

  From under his blanket, a foot appeared and tried to kick me. There was little force behind it, as the slipper tapped my shin with minimal power. The upper body was still strong, but the legs remained weak. I smiled and he glared at me.

  “What about your parents?” I asked, changing the subject. “What were they like growing up?”

  “You really are digging deep, aren’t you? Must be desperate.”

  “The environment children grow up in can explain a lot about someone and how they behave as an adult. Helps me to understand you better.”

  Simon laughed. “They raised us like most parents did. With a firm hand and strong discipline.”

  “Did your father beat you?” I continued to dig.

  He was slow to answer. “No. He was working most of the time. My mother doled out the punishment. She was quite good at it.”

  Could be a clue on why he hated women. Something to keep in the back of my mind.

  “Where are your parents now?”

  “Both are dead,” he said with a tinge of joy. “Sorry you won’t have the chance to question them and jump to some crazy conclusion about my sanity and their role in it.”

  It would have been an interesting conversation. Parents play a major role in their children’s development. What he said about his mother and how she handled the discipline could be key. But I wouldn’t be able to question them, unless they could speak from the grave.

  “If you could walk and leave this place,” I asked, changing my tact again. “What would you do first?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Go to a pool and watch the pretty young ladies in bikinis, the beads of water gracing their marvelous skin.” There was a sick glee in his tone.

  “Would you imagine them on a table, at your mercy, as you carved away their marvelous skin?”

  “Why do you ask me these questions? Do you expect me to confess my soul to you?”

  I stared him in the eye. “I think you want to confess. At times, you give clues of guilt, like your pool comment. Send lawyers to buy me off. When that doesn’t work, you send men to pound me into quitting. Using what little power remains to keep your game alive.”

  He shook his head in mock admonishment. “Why would I do that, Jarvis? I enjoy our chats. Keeps my heart and blood pumping to match wits with you.”

  The orderly strolled over to check on Simon. As before, he became less-chatty, giving one-word answers.

  “Need to come inside, Simon,” said the orderly.

  “Why?” he replied.

  “Too much sun. You know the drill. Not good for your skin. And it looks like we might have rain coming.”

  He looked to the sky before answering. “Stay…please.”

  “We are having a stirring conversation,” I added. “Simon seems to be enjoying our debate.” I bore into Simon with a huge grin.

  The orderly looked at Simon with a frown. Simon nodded. The orderly gave in. “Only for a brief time. Let me move you over where you have some protection.”

  He found a table with an open umbrella and wheeled him there, so the filtered sun was no longer hitting his skin. I moved, taking a seat also in the shade. Even with sunscreen applied the Colorado sun was brutal to the follicles.

  “Thank you,” Simon said in a weak voice to the orderly, who strolled on checking others, while I gave him a sideways glare.

  “What,” he replied to my reaction.

  “Odd how you become less chatty when someone comes around. Why is that?”

  “They are the help. They aren’t interesting, and I have nothing interesting to say to them beyond my medical needs.”

  “This means I’m interesting?”

  A small grin formed. �
�On some level, yes.”

  “Is it because I challenge you?”

  He gritted his teeth. “You’re of no challenge to me. But you come close. Closer than most.”

  I moved my chair closer to him, wanting to be eye to eye like before, show I had no fear being that close. I wanted to challenge him. Wanted to get him to say something he would regret. I stopped to think for a minute. What to do!

  “The inkling I had when meeting with your sister,” I stated. “Was she wants nothing to do with you these days. Removed the Lions hyphen from her last name. From my conversation with her, I get the impression she believes you’re…how should I put it…nuts.”

  There was no break in his expression, but his hand started to twitch. I braced for him to grab me again, but it never came.

  “She is free to do what she pleases, even if it doesn’t please me.” The veins in his arms showed his blood pressure was rising. He was trying to keep his cool, but was failing.

  “Sane of you to say.” I paused for effect. “For someone hardly sane. It chaps your butt what she has become. A woman who has forgotten her blood relative. Is it related to Windsor not wanting you being a burden to his rise in power? Are they tired of answering questions about you? Having to use their influence to spare you from the scrutiny of the police and FBI?”

  I pushed his buttons good this time. He was angry, I could see it. So much so, he didn’t respond back. He couldn’t even look me in the eye, his teeth clenched and his hand balled. I continued my assault.

  “Was it part of your plan to have your protégé carve up someone who worked on Windsor’s campaign?”

  There was surprise on his face. “What do you mean?”

  “As I told you the last time I was here, she got away. Was too much for him to handle. Strong enough to fight him off. Even got a description of him for the cops to work with. A major break for the police. And a major screw-up on your part. Or at least your apprentice’s part.”

  I was lying about the description. For other than the eyes, she didn’t see him. Still he didn’t know that, and I wanted him doubting himself and whoever he was working with. There was a fire inside burning. I could see it, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. He unlocked his wheelchair and tried to roll away, but I stood up and blocked his path, my arms crossed in defiance.

  “Understand this, old man,” I said, finding more buttons to push. “You may be too weak to carry the blade and torture these poor women. At least physically. But I know you’re mentally carrying out these crimes with a surrogate. I’ll find him and deposit his body in front of you when he is caught, to show you that I am a challenge to you. An equal who will make sure you both rot away in jail or worse.”

  He lost it, face red, rage showing, revealing the killer deep down. “How dare you talk to me like that?” I thought he was going to try and stand, rising as much as he could, which wasn’t far, but he stopped himself before he let too much slip, taking a few breaths to find calm. “You’re a tricky bastard. Baiting me to do something stupid.”

  The orderly heard the commotion and came over. “Is there a problem here?”

  “Jarvis and I were playing chess,” said Simon, a smile now across his face. “It would seem he has me in check.”

  “Excuse me?” The orderly queried, he didn’t really understand what Simon meant, since there was no board before us.

  “A virtual game of chess,” said Simon. “Jarvis is wanting to beat a master.”

  “Whatever,” said the orderly. He glared at me. “But it’s best not to get him too worked up because of his health.” He moved away again, now out of earshot.

  I looked at Simon with a confident stare. “Only a few moves left before you’re in checkmate. And this time, your sister, I mean ‘the queen,’ won’t save you.”

  There was a slight smirk. “You’d be surprised what I have up my sleeve, Jarvis. The queen isn’t my only resource. I wouldn’t turn my back for a second. Something off the board might change the game.”

  I turned and smiled, “I’m counting on it,” and with that I walked away.

  Chapter 46

  There was little doubt he had threatened me. But I had threatened him as well. The game was on and I would need to be ever vigilante to the tenth degree. I headed towards the exit when the lovely young lady who normally covered the front desk stopped me. She was looking radiant and with her charm had my attention.

  “Do you have a minute?” she asked, her hand on my shoulder.

  “Sure. What can I help you with?”

  “Can we go outside?”

  I motioned yes, and we walked out, side by side. I wasn’t sure what she wanted but I was always willing to talk with a lovely lady.

  “Where are you parked?” she asked.

  “Mustang, yellow and black.”

  “A classic.”

  “Yes, in some circles. Others would call it old.”

  “May I see it?”

  I led the way, still uncertain what was going on. Her shoulder length auburn hair glided with the wind as she walked. I was a little leery of women I didn’t know well after what happened with Milani. I had my caution flag in play.

  “How many miles does the Mustang have?” she asked.

  “Over 300k. I ride a Harley when it suits me, to keep the miles from being more.”

  She turned around leaning against the driver’s side door. She was wearing a purple scrub top with the EverCare logo and jeans. She was shorter, by a couple of inches than I was, in her healthcare white shoes. I noticed a small mole on her right cheek, which I trailed up to her blue eyes. She leaned in about to say something, when she noticed someone behind me. I turned my head, but she grabbed my face quickly and kissed me softly. Once done she embraced me, her mouth close to my ear.

  “Don’t worry I’m not coming onto you,” she whispered. “I wanted to keep up the illusion. If anyone asks, you’re my boyfriend. I’m working undercover for the FBI.”

  I knew they had someone on the inside, but I wouldn’t have guessed it was her. I embraced her back, surprised by the words, but knew I needed to play along.

  “Can we sit in your car?” she asked.

  I opened the door and she sat behind the wheel. I took the passenger’s side. It felt odd from this angle, I didn’t sit there too often.

  “You sure had me fooled,” I said admirably. “I bought the college student spiel. You look too young to be in the FBI.”

  “I’m older than I look. In fact, I am twenty-nine to be precise. The college student backstory worked well for this position.”

  “I’d have never guessed you being twenty-nine.” I was impressed.

  “Thanks. Time has been kind to me, so far.”

  “Why are you revealing yourself to me now?”

  “I heard some commotion. Wanted to make sure all was OK in there. Not that you can’t handle yourself against a man in a wheelchair.” She smiled at her humor.

  “How will Agent Alegre feel about that?”

  “Are you going to tell her? Because I sure as hell won’t be.”

  “My lips are sealed.” It was my turn to smile.

  “What were you and Simon discussing?”

  “Several things. Mostly his connections to the killings, his family, items to piss him off. I’m working him. Trying to get him to slip up. I think I have him primed to make another move.”

  “He’s moved on you before?” She sounded surprised.

  “Someone made a move.” I corrected. “Three guys actually, shortly after a lawyer from Whitelaw & Associates paid me a visit in this very parking lot. Took me to lunch to try and buy me off. When I turned him down those three guys did a dance on me. If it wasn’t Simon, then it’s someone close to him, like his sister or brother-in-law.”

  “Torey Whitelaw has been here before, talking with Simon. At least one time.”

  “That would be him. What about any of these guys?” I pulled out my phone and showed her some pictures.

  “Don’t recall
any of them coming by. Simon doesn’t get a lot of visitors. No family members like a sister.”

  “You mentioned once a younger man came by. What was his name?”

  “He said he was Simon’s nephew. As I recall they had an argument and he hasn’t been back since. Name was Darren Woodley.”

  I was surprised to hear he was Simon’s nephew. If it was true it ruined one of my best theories, that Darren was his son.

  I nodded. “He and I have met. Though under odd circumstances. His mother was the last victim of the original Butcher murders. She escaped from him, though mostly unharmed. I was thinking he was the son, but maybe I’m wrong.”

  She glanced at me. “Odd. You were thinking they became involved?”

  “Possibly. No evidence to prove it though. If he is a nephew that kills that theory.”

  She grabbed the steering wheel with admiration in her eyes, getting a feel for the car. “I always wanted one of these. The seats feel quite modern though.” She moved to get comfortable and raised an eyebrow.

  “I upgraded them a few years back. The old seats were falling apart and uncomfortable. These were a needed improvement. Since you’re my girlfriend, I probably should let you take it for a spin.”

  She laughed. “I’d love that, but I’ll eventually need to get back to my station. Can’t be getting fired. It will look bad on my resume.”

  “Catalina won’t be thrilled either.”

  “She was born pissed off. What I do has little bearing on her mood.”

  This only confirmed what I already had experienced.

  “Anything else you can tell me about Simon?” I asked.

  “Not much. He keeps to himself and stays in his room, unless he has visitors. You’ve stopped by more than anyone else.” She had turned in the seat to look at me.

  “I assume you’re monitoring his calls?”

  “Yes. Doesn’t make many. Nothing out of the ordinary. He could have a cell we don’t know about, though.”

  “Have you ever searched his room?”

  “I tried a couple of times and nearly got caught once. It’s hard for me to get away from the front desk without someone knowing. And since he rarely leaves his room, it’s challenging to get in there long enough to look around. When I did search, I found nothing out of the ordinary. With his money, he can get most anything he wants. It’s easy to pay people who work here to bring him things. The pay sucks, so making a few extra bucks however you can, so long as it doesn’t hurt anyone, is pretty common.”