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

Page 40

by R Weir


  “We’ll see about that.”

  My smile was ear to ear when I reached into my pocket pulling out a piece of paper I’d put together.

  “Here are my expenses for tracking Aleksi,” I stated with more joy than I should have. “Please reimburse me at your earliest convenience.”

  He took the sheet ripping it up, huffed and got back into his SUV, the driver doing the same, and they drove away. With a big sigh of relief, I grabbed my cell phone and made a call.

  “Jarvis,” said the familiar voice of Aleksi on the other side. “Did your Chinese friends pay you a visit?”

  “They just left. I gave them word for word what you said.”

  “Their answer was?”

  “To drive away pissed off. Though the bomb made an impression on them, I think.”

  “These are hard men, so in time, pride may overcome their fear. And a husband needs to appear strong and courageous to his wife. It is possible the emasculation won’t last. We will see. Hopefully they will realize it is futile and leave you alone. For now, I wouldn’t walk around without a weapon and have your head on a swivel.”

  He was right, and I did just that while I sat at a local restaurant, seeing every patron as a potential killer. Oh, how I loved my life!

  Chapter 74

  Jonas and I were standing in the rehabilitation center of EverCare watching Simon doing his exercises. He was sitting on a machine where he could work his arms, and it would rotate his legs at the same time, working the muscles which didn’t have the strength to rotate on their own. When he first saw us, you could tell he was distracted by our presence, his trainer telling him to focus, which he soon recaptured. I knew from experience how strong his arms were, as he worked them in a nice rhythm for nearly ten minutes. After stopping he was helped to his wheelchair and moved to a table, where the therapist worked his legs, bending them at the knees and then pushing it to his chest. First the left and then the right. He moved and bent them as much as he could on his own, though she did most of the work. There was pain, but he handled it well. Whether he’d ever get the full strength back someday, it was difficult to say. But if it didn’t happen, it wouldn’t be for lack of effort.

  When his hour was up, he was helped back into the wheelchair, using a towel to wipe the sweat from his face. Simon glanced our way, a half-frown on his mug, before drying off again. He whispered into the therapist’s ear and she wheeled him towards us, before stopping.

  “Are you friends of Simon?” she asked.

  I smiled and did my best not to laugh. “Acquaintances would be more accurate. We needed to talk, when he is available.”

  “I have another patient to see. Simon, if it’s OK, they can take you back to your room.”

  He nodded, and she excused herself before leaving. Simon finished wiping down his face, arms and legs before draping the towel over his lap. He was in a white tank top and blue gym shorts, with expensive running shoes in colors I wouldn’t be caught dead in. He didn’t have the oxygen tubes in his nose. His health must have been improving.

  “Been a while, Jonas,” Simon said. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

  “We came to talk. Maybe even gloat a little. It would seem all my years of chasing you have paid off.” Jonas sounded genuinely pleased at the opportunity.

  “They have? Well I’d be interested in what fabrication you’ve cooked up now about me. I’m sure Jarvis has been fueling the fire with his accusations.” He didn’t sound too concerned.

  “Only the facts, sir, if I can steal from Dragnet,” I said, with a gleeful tone.

  “Simon, we have plenty on you now,” said Jonas. “More than we need to finally lock you up. But we are here to get your side of it. You’ve always teased us, to the point of nearly confessing to your past crimes. Maybe today we can get a full one, after what we reveal to you. Where can we go and talk without being disturbed?”

  “Follow me.”

  He wheeled himself back to the hallway and onto the elevator. We rode up to his floor and went into his room. Jonas and I had discussed how we were going to attack Simon, double teaming him in hopes of breaking him down, if that was even possible. He whirled his wheelchair around to face us, pointing to two chairs for guests.

  “I must say, Jarvis, I wasn’t expecting to see you again,” said Simon with a small smile.

  “You mean after sending Wolfe to see and threaten me?”

  “I’m not sure who this Wolfe is, but he certainly would have been doing me a favor, if he did. I was referring to our last conversation. I figured you were done with talking with me. I often seemed to agitate you, to the point of getting under your skin.”

  “I saw it differently. I believe I had the upper hand when I walked out. Though your phrasing is interesting, being that is actually what The Butcher does to his victims.”

  “It is only a harmless expression. Maybe in this case a poor one to use,” he acknowledged.

  “I doubt it,” added Jonas. “Every word, every sentence you utter has a purpose. I could quote many others from my notes when talking with you. You’re calculating, in a sinister way.”

  “I hope you can come to a point quickly,” said Simon. “After my workouts, I often get a nice sponge bath from one of the nurses. Her rubbing my naked body is one of my only pleasures these days. In time I hope to get her stripped bare, so I can see it all.” His face flushed at the thought of his words.

  There it was again. Another declaration that he didn’t lack confidence in making.

  “After the visit from Wolfe,” said Jonas, “Jarvis was sent information which led him to the arrest of a man the police and FBI believe is ‘The Front Range Butcher.’ I’m sure you heard this news.”

  “Not really. I don’t watch the news and rarely read the newspapers. I find salvation and inspiration in the books I read. But good for Jarvis that he finally found the killer.” His eyes gleamed at me.

  “In reality, he didn’t. The man arrested, at least in our eyes, is not him. He was lured there, drugged and then left for Jarvis and the police to find.”

  “Surely the evidence is overwhelming that you have the right man.” A touch of surprise rippled through his mask, but he quickly recovered his blank expression.

  Jonas continued to press. “I thought you didn’t watch or read the news. How would you know about the evidence?”

  “Merely conjecture on my part. Knowing how thorough Jarvis is, he would never have someone arrested without the proper facts.”

  “I was given the killer’s whereabouts by Wolfe,” I said. “In exchange for leaving you alone.”

  Simon shook his head. “Again, I must confess, I don’t know this Wolfe. Maybe he is someone my sister sent your way. Or possibly my lawyer. He is quite persistent since I told him of your visits. Jonas knows how he can be.”

  “Your lawyers are a pain,” stated Jonas. “And why would your sister care. From what Jarvis told me, she wants nothing to do with you.”

  Simon laughed. “She is a woman. Her mind changes daily. And she is always protecting her poor husband from the scrutiny of the press. Whether it be me and your quest to connect me to these murders, or his own personal failings. She wants to be in in D.C. someday right alongside the other political power mongers.”

  More tidbits from Simon. Personal failings of a Senator could be worth digging into further, when I had some free time. But not from Simon, for we knew he wouldn’t give us anything more concrete once we asked. He was good at giving us bits and pieces only.

  “Back to the suspected murderer. He contacted Jarvis, saying he was framed. The odd part about it, is he is the son of the last woman ever taken by the original Butcher. Born almost exactly nine months after she escaped from him.”

  Jonas was standing right before Simon, pounding him with his speech, giving a Holmes-like summation. I was enjoying the show, knowing he had been through lot to get this point.

  “Her name is Belinda Woodley, someone you’ve tried to kill, twice
now. Both times thwarted by Jarvis. Even if you had succeeded the second time, she had already told us you’re the father of Darren, the one accused of being The Butcher. She fathered a child for you, a bargain made to spare her life. Giving you a son you always wanted to do your own bidding.”

  Simon’s eyes flashed again. “You are silly in your assumption,” replied Simon. “Jarvis mentioned her before and said she was dead.”

  “I lied,” I stated.

  Simon didn’t look surprised by my words, merely raising an eyebrow at me. “If I thought she was dead, how could I have known to send another killer after her?”

  “You have connections, there is no doubt. I haven’t figured out how, and maybe I never will. The police have the latest assassin in custody, so there is hope he will reveal details to make a deal.”

  Simon snickered. “I doubt he will. Assassins know what is best for them and are paid to keep their mouths shut. Even if he did talk, my name wouldn’t come up.”

  More bits and pieces. The man liked dangling carrots.

  “Even without him speaking, we have no doubt, Simon,” said Jonas. “You tried to kill Belinda and frame her son, whom you fathered.”

  “If he is the son I always wanted, why would I give him to you as the murderer? Surely a father would never be so cruel.”

  Jonas hammered away some more. “Because he wasn’t your son. He could have been, but there were two boys born that day. You had fathered twins. Once you knew this, you concocted a plan, with the help of a midwife named Abigail, to fake the death of one of the boys, so you could have him as your own and no one would know about him. That way you could raise him and make him into the person you wanted him to be. Which apparently was another serial killer to carry on your insanity.”

  “You also wanted to hurt Belinda,” I added. “You weren’t able to kill her but knew framing the boy she raised properly would be the wound that would put her over the edge.”

  His face a perfect mask, Simon shook his head and started laughing. “Sounds like a poor plot to a B movie.”

  “It’s your script,” I said. “Playing out before our eyes. As profiler Doris has told me, serial killers rarely follow paths one would consider sane.”

  “Prove it.” He said firmly in that gravelly voice that used to spook me. But no more.

  “We are. Get your lawyers lined up. We are getting statements, piecing together evidence. And soon I plan to have the real Butcher in custody. It’s only a matter of time before I find him; the boy you molded into an evil killer. I’m sure once we have him, he will tell us all the horrible things you did to make him into this monster. A mirror image of who you were.”

  “If you had anything I’d already be behind bars,” Simon scoffed.

  “You’re here now, unable to leave without assistance. Captive by your own health problems. It may not be jail, but close to it.”

  Simon’s face darkened. “Then why are you here, other than to rub it in my face.”

  Jonas stepped closer to Simon. He was strong and forceful, in decent shape, despite being older than Simon. He leaned down looking him in the eye, staring with a vigor, speaking with a passion I’d not seen from him before.

  “I’ve got you and you know it,” he said. “But I want to know one thing. Why kill all those people? What could you possibly gain from it all, butchering those poor women and the two men? What broke you and made you a monster? Was it your parents? Your sister? Some woman you thought loved you and did you wrong? I need to know what makes a man like you tick.”

  Simon glared at him, not breaking eye contact. “Why should I give you the satisfaction of knowing? Will it help you sleep better at night?”

  “Not likely. More of wanting to put a ‘the end’ on this saga. Close it out once and for all.”

  “Of course. But the saga isn’t over from what you told me. The real killer is still out there. You haven’t caught him yet. He may have one final, spectacular spree to complete. I for one think the best is yet to come.” He smiled, knowingly with a cryptic glance at me.

  Jonas stood up straight at the words and looked at me. More bits and pieces. Apparently, he knew something was in the works.

  “What do you have planned, Simon?” I said, now standing and moving towards him.

  He laughed. “Why should I give away the ending? It is up to the audience to guess what happens next. A good B horror movie will jump out at you when you least expect it. Shock value always makes for good theater.”

  He then grabbed Jonas by the arm and pulled him down, whispering in his ear. I couldn’t hear them, but Jonas’ face turned dark, and, stunned by the words, he slapped Simon in the face, which only made him laugh. Breathing heavily, Jonas turned and strode urgently to the other side of the room, pulling out his cellphone and making a call.

  “What the hell did you tell him?” I moved closer in a threatening manner.

  “Nothing too important. In this final act, someone of value to the plot, who has been involved from the beginning will feel what the victims feel. Death to one he loves in the most gruesome way you can imagine. A spectacular closing chapter.” Simon’s tone was boasting, even gleeful as his raspy laughter filled the room.

  He had to be talking about Jonas and his family. Either his wife Leigh Ann, or Melissa could be the target. The thought enraged me, as an anger I’d not felt in some time bubbled over. I stepped in, grabbed Simon by the neck and started choking him, squeezing until his face started turning red. He tried to get his arm up to free himself, but the seething anger made me too strong to break free from.

  “Tell me where your son is, or I’ll kill you right here!” I yelled.

  His eyes told me all I needed to know. He didn’t care whether he died or not. He would never say a word. I released him, as he fell sideways, the wheelchair tipping over, his body on the floor, his choking laughing sounds once again filling the room. I ran over to Jonas to see what he found.

  “Leigh Ann is at home, safe,” he said, breathless. “I told her to lock all the doors. I tried calling Melissa, but she isn’t answering. Her work said she was off today.” An agitated Jonas looked around, uncertain what to do.

  I glared down at Simon, who coughed and choked out another laugh, as if from the depths of hell.

  “You get to your wife and protect her. I’ll find Melissa.”

  “If anything happens to her, Jarvis, I would never forgive myself. Please find her and bring her home safe.” His face looked old and haggard.

  I put my hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry sir, I will. I promise.”

  As we ran for the elevator I hoped I could keep my word. I really did hope…

  Chapter 75

  I was beside myself with fear. When I went to Melissa’s townhome, she wasn’t there but her car was, instantly setting off my alarm bells. I didn’t see any sign of forced entry, but I had no way of getting inside. She wasn’t one of those that hid a key, so there was no way in. I called Jonas, but he didn’t have a key either. Once again, I tried calling her cell, but all I got was voicemail. Breaking in was a possibility, but I would hold it in reserve and wait for now. I called Bristol & Bristol and got through to Tony, hoping he would have an idea of where she was.

  “I’m sorry, Jarvis, I don’t know,” he said. “She passed her bar exam and was so worn out, I told her to take a few days off to relax. For all I know she could be out with friends or maybe went away for a long weekend.”

  “Her car is still here,” I said, feeling dread creep up over me. “Could be she went with friends. But she won’t answer her cell. Any other way to get a hold of her that you know of?”

  “Sorry I can’t think of anything. What is this about? Jonas called me too.” He sounded concerned on the phone.

  I explained briefly what was going on and told him if he heard from her at all, to call me or Jonas. I waited until it was dark, but still nothing. I wasn’t sure what else I could do, so I went home. I couldn’t sleep, even when April got home after her shift
to try and console me. She knew my feelings for Melissa, my loyalty to Jonas, and understood. She promised to help as much as she could. Until she had been missing for twenty-four hours, there wasn’t much the police could do. I spent the late hours in bed, on my back most of the night before finally sleeping for a brief time.

  I dreamed of happy days, where all I knew were alive. My parents, brother and, even those who had died that I’d encountered while working. Faces of people I hadn’t thought of in a while. Happy and smiling, and then gone. Dona, a woman who had been a sex slave, who I tried to save but failed. Jack, the cheating husband of my landlord, and friend Kate, who had died because of his association with Dona. Adam, a fellow PI, whom I despised, but had worked with to help protect my client, and died while doing that. My brother, killed when getting himself into a mess with a powerful crime lord. And my parents, who had died from cancer. The list was long. Many died before their time, and others would too. But I couldn’t let this happen to Melissa. So much was ahead of her. With passing the bar exam, she would soon be doing what she had dreamed of. Maybe even having her own practice, possibly joining the firm she worked for. I could imagine the glee on her face, finally reaching her goal. Then I saw the sorrow of how I had hurt her, my work life infringing on our relationship. Death was near one other time, as along with Rocky, I had killed several men, to save her. Carnage she had a tough time dealing with. After I slept with another woman, an old friend from my school days, I lost her. It was hard, but still we rebuilt a friendship. One that got me this job, which now, coming full circle, could end her life.

  I woke up sweating, feeling nauseous. After I threw up, I showered and readied myself for the day.

  April made some breakfast. I ate mechanically, hoping it would stay down and fill the void in my stomach. A quick call to Jonas, and still no word. We decided to go over to his house and wait. April would come too, and we’d make sure they were safe and try to comfort them.

 

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