Murder Takes Patience

by Giammatteo, Giacomo

Bruce looked at his watch. “You’re right. I really must be going, but first I would love to see your pussy.”

  Jan gulped. “What?”

  He smiled. “Just kidding.”

  She looked for something to protect herself with, but nothing was close. She raised her shoulders and took a firm stance. “I think you should leave.”

  “Ah, yes. The threat.” Bruce cupped his chin with his hand. “What will it be—your husband will be home soon? He won’t, not until two days from now.”

  He smiled when he saw the look on her face. “I listened to your voicemail.”

  She screamed and reached for the doorknob. When he stopped her, she ran down the hall, heading for the bedroom. Bruce grabbed a knife from the counter. He caught her before she got the bedroom door locked, and forced his way in.

  “Don’t make me hurt you. If you scream again, I’ll do more than look at your pussy.”

  “I have AIDS.”

  Bruce laughed. “That’s a good one. And if I were going to rape you it might cause me concern.”

  “You’re…”

  “No, I am not going to rape you. I just want to take a peek.”

  “And then you’ll let me go?”

  “Yes, you will then be set free.”

  He held the knife to her throat and forced her to the bed. “Take your clothes off.”

  She started to turn around. He pressed the knife harder. “No need to turn. Just take off your clothes.”

  Jan trembled, her whole body quivering. She removed her pants and stood still.

  “All of your clothes.”

  “But you said—”

  “All of them.”

  She took off her top, then her bra, and stood hunched over, arms wrapped around herself.

  “Good. Now lie on the bed, face up.”

  “Why are you doing this? I didn’t—”

  “No talking.” He clamped his hand over her mouth and sliced her leg with the knife, not deep, just a little. She tried screaming, but his hand muffled the sound.

  “From now on, every time you make a sound, I will cut you more. And each one will be worse. Understand?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. I’ll let go now, but if you scream…”

  “I won’t.” She whispered it, almost too low for him to hear.

  “Spread your legs.”

  She opened them.

  “Wider.”

  She spread them as far as she could.

  He leaned in close, real close, and then he licked her. She jumped.

  “You said—”

  Bruce cut her on the lower belly. A thin stream of blood ran down to her vagina.

  “Now look what you’ve made me do. Guess I’ll have to clean that mess up.” He started licking again. Her body tensed. She froze. He heard the sobbing as he tasted her. She was sweet. Very sweet. But not as sweet as Susan. Not even close.

  He stood, shoved her panties into her mouth, tied her hands behind her back with the bra, then sat next to her on the bed. Her big brown eyes begged him to let her go. He could see in her eyes that she knew it wouldn’t happen, that she’d realized now what a mistake she had made in letting him in. She made moaning sounds and looked as if she wanted to talk. He removed the panties, but held the knife to her throat.

  “Yes?”

  “Please don’t hurt me. I’m pregnant.”

  Bruce feigned shock. “Pregnant. Oh my, that does change things.” He put his finger to his chin as if in thought, then said, “Is it a boy or girl?”

  “I don’t know. It’s too early, but if it’s a girl I’m going to name her Cindra.”

  “Cindra…a pretty name. Unfortunately, the world doesn’t need any more sluts.” He shoved the panties back in her mouth, then slid the knife across her throat, drawing a thin line of blood. He threw a quilt over her, leaving only her neck exposed, then he sawed at it, using all his strength until he sliced through the jugular. Blood spewed out, and her eyes went wide. She thrashed about, but he held onto her. It didn’t take long. While she was still alive he shot her, once in the head, once in the vagina.

  When it was over he cleaned up. His arm was a mess and required several scrubbings. More could be done at home. After that he cleaned the sink drain to get rid of hair, used bleach to rinse it out, then moved Jan to the tub. He sprayed her off with the shower, front and back, washed her down with bleach, then made sure to use more bleach on her pussy. It wouldn’t do to have them find his saliva on her. Fortunately his grocery bag was full of bleach, so he used more for one final cleaning, including his gun, checked everything, then took a seat at the table.

  He grabbed the cantaloupe she bought, sliced it in half, cleaned out the seeds—making sure to get every strand of pulp—then peeled it from the rind. From the drawer he got a tablespoon and cut the melon into delicious little bites. He swirled the first bite in his mouth, caressing it with his tongue, letting the juices fill his taste buds. Jan had been right. This one was perfect.

  When he finished he put everything down the garbage disposal, went to the bedroom and spread the sheet and quilt out and doused them with cooking oil. He stuck a note to her forehead using a thumbtack, spread oil, and a few other flammables throughout the kitchen, walked to the door and checked that no one was in the hall, then he struck a match and left.

  This should throw those cops for a loop. They couldn’t imagine Bruce Stewart would be out killing someone right after questioning him. All he had to do now was get rid of the gun.

  CHAPTER 55

  Luck of the Irish

  Alex ran to the waiting room, turning the corner at high speed. “Kate, FD is bleeding.”

  She grabbed hold of Alex as he wrapped his arms around her. “What happened?”

  “He was laughing and then he started coughing and then…then his stitches broke.”

  “Who was in there with you?”

  “A nurse. She chased me out.”

  Kate turned to Linda. “Will you…”

  Linda took Alex by the hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll watch him and Keisha. You go.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Kate returned.

  “Everything okay, Kate?”

  “He’s okay. Thanks.”

  Alex ran to her. “Is FD all right?”

  She hugged him. “He’s okay, Alex. They had to stitch him up again, but he’s doing fine. We can go back in a little later.”

  Kate was explaining to Linda all that had happened, when Lou and Sherri came in. Lou gave Kate a big hug.

  “Hey, girl, you doing all right?”

  “I’m fine. Frankie’s stitches broke and they had to redo them. Scared poor Alex half to death.”

  Lou knelt beside Alex. “You been through a lot, tough guy. Keep hanging in there. That’s what Frankie would want.”

  Almost an hour passed before the nurse came in and gave the okay to see him. Lou looked at Kate, but she waved him on. “You and Miller go on. I’ll be here all night.”

  Lou started for the room, turning to Sherri. “You coming?”

  “Be right there,” she said, then to Kate added, “You got a minute?”

  Kate looked at Linda. “I’ll be right back.” She walked outside the room with Sherri. “What is it?”

  Sherri looked at the floor, at the ceiling, and finally, at Kate. “I know you don’t like me, Dr. Burns, and I don’t blame you. But I want you to know one thing. Frankie has never done anything to give you reason to be upset or jealous.”

  “I don’t need to hear this,” Kate said, and turned to walk away.

  “Yes, you do. Frankie tried getting me off his team because of the way you feel.”

  “He—what?”

  Miller nodded. “He told me to get a transfer. Said he wasn’t going to ruin the best thing he ever had because of me.”

  “If he didn’t…”

  Sherri took a hard stance. “He didn’t do anything. He just wanted to make sure that you weren’t upset. If anybody’s to blame, it’s me. I might have ac
ted inappropriately.”

  “Don’t try clearing your conscience on my watch.”

  “Bullshit. All I’m saying is I had feelings for the guy, okay? We didn’t do anything, and Donovan never even hinted at it. So if your jealous ass wants to blame somebody, blame me.” Sherri turned and headed down the hall.

  “Miller!”

  Sherri stopped. Turned slowly. “What?”

  “Don’t transfer because of me. I won’t have that hanging over my head.”

  “Don’t say it to be nice, because I got to tell you, I want to stay with these guys.”

  “I’m not nice. Not when it comes to sharing Frankie Donovan.”

  Miller laughed, and then she walked back to Kate. She offered her a hand. “Fair enough, Dr. Burns. That’s something I understand.”

  Kate smiled with her. “Okay.”

  ***

  Sherri grabbed Lou’s arm as he headed toward Frankie’s room. “Mazzetti, are we working this case or not?”

  “Yeah, we’re working it, but I have to see Frankie.”

  “Your killer friend called and mentioned something about a house of Stewart’s in Brooklyn Heights. Do you think Parnell was referring to him in her email?”

  Mazzetti looked at her, and, for a moment he just stared. Things were coming together in his head. “Damn, Miller. You might be right about that. Let me talk to Frankie and we’ll get busy. Call Carol and light a fire under her ass about it.”

  He stepped lightly into the room and across the floor to Frankie’s bed.

  “You can’t be quiet, Mazzetti, so don’t try.”

  “Hey, Donovan. How’s it going?”

  “Not so good, if you must know. I feel like shit, and I’ve got to piss through a tube.”

  “Okay, heard enough. And don’t expect me to clean anything.”

  “That’s why I love you, Mazzetti. Full of compassion.”

  “Lovable Lou.”

  “Where’s Miller?”

  “You remember anything about that day?”

  Frankie looked at him. “Where’s Miller?”

  “She just finished talking to Kate.”

  “Fuck me.”

  “Yeah, and you only thought being in the hospital was bad.” Lou took out his notepad. “Tell me what you remember.”

  Sherri walked in just as Frankie was starting. “Hey, Donovan. How’s it going?”

  “He’s doing fine,” Lou said. “Do you mind, Miller? I’m conducting an investigation.”

  “You seen Nicky?” Frankie asked.

  Lou sighed. “Yeah. He was here the night it happened.”

  “And you haven’t seen him since?”

  “He might have come by once.”

  Sherri shot Lou a look he thought only his wife could make. “He’s got your friend working the case.”

  “What?”

  “Miller, you’re an ass,” Lou said.

  “Screw you,” Sherri said. “Maybe Donovan will talk sense into that head of yours.”

  Lou looked to Frankie. “Pay her no mind. I had him do one thing for me.”

  “One thing?” She looked at Donovan. “He just called. He’s at Stewart’s house.”

  Frankie tried sitting up. “What?”

  “He said we better go to Red Hook and check out Stewart’s house. He wouldn’t say why. He also said Stewart had a second house in Brooklyn Heights.”

  “What the hell is this about Stewart’s house?” Frankie said. “Will somebody tell me what the fuck is going on?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Lou said. “Tell me what you saw the day you got stabbed.”

  “Nothing. The guy stabbed me as soon as I walked in. I almost blacked out. Maybe I did. I don’t remember. All I could think about was Alex, hoping he was safe.”

  “You never saw anything? Not a glimpse of him?”

  “When I was on the floor, I grabbed my gun and shot at him, but it was all a blur. Obviously I missed.”

  “You got any ideas who might have done it?”

  Frankie shook his head. “I figured it was Benning. Are you telling me Benning is in the clear?”

  “Far as we can tell,” Sherri said.

  “And you think Stewart did it?”

  “I don’t see how, but your pal from Wilmington said he caught Stewart tossing your gun. The problem is Stewart’s got an alibi that we can’t break, and Benning’s got an even better one.”

  “I’m worried about Nicky,” Frankie said. “He shouldn’t be here. If…”

  Lou nodded, patting Frankie’s arm. “Yeah, I know. But Nicky said he was going home. I’m sure he will.”

  “Speaking of which,” Sherri said. “We have to get busy.”

  “Tell Kate to come in, will you?”

  Lou and Sherri waved as they left.

  Lou’s phone rang as they walked down the hall. Sherri handed it to him. “Forgot to give this back to you.”

  “Mazzetti.”

  “Lou, it’s Carol. I have the information you needed on the house in Brooklyn Heights.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “House is owned by Leo and Susan Caruthers. They also own a house in the Catskills, and one in Newport, Rhode Island. Wealthy doesn’t describe them.”

  “You find any connection to Stewart?”

  “Maybe. Probably.”

  “Don’t make me guess.”

  “Susan was Leo’s third wife. A much younger wife. They had no children together, but he had a son with his second wife, a Paula Stewart. You want to guess what the child’s name was?”

  “If I were a betting man, I’d say Bruce.”

  “And you would hit the jackpot. Wilfred B. Stewart, to be precise.”

  “Okay, so that gives us nothing. He went to his parents’ house.”

  “Not so fast, Mazzetti. The odd thing is that his parents died in the 9/11 tragedy.”

  “Cops look into it?”

  “There was no reason to. Back when it happened they questioned Bruce, and he said they were lost during the Twin Towers’ attack. End of story.”

  “Where did all the money go?” Mazzetti asked.

  “Stewart received a small sum, and by that I mean more than a few million. The rest went to a foundation to support up-and-coming artists.”

  “Did he file an insurance claim?”

  “No, but he had so much money he wouldn’t need to.”

  “All right, get with Morreau, tell him I need people on—”

  “I already checked, Lou. He said he’d give you two guys for Red Hook, but nothing for the Brooklyn Heights house.”

  “Who’s he giving us?”

  “Saperstein and Hill.”

  “We’ll take it. Get them over to Red Hook and tell them to call me the minute Stewart comes home.”

  “You got it.”

  Lou turned to Sherri.

  “I heard most of it,” she said. “The rest you can fill me in on the way.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I assume we’re going to Brooklyn Heights.”

  “I knew there was a reason I liked you, Miller.”

  CHAPTER 56

  An Unlikely Lead

  Frankie Donovan tried sitting up. He tried stretching. He tried everything, but he couldn’t reach his phone. He finally resorted to pushing the button to call a nurse. When she came in he smiled. “Nurse, can you please hand me that phone?”

  “You should rest, Mr. Donovan.”

  “I will after I make one call.”

  The door opened and Kate walked in carrying a small box.

  “What’s in there? A present?”

  “It was delivered by special messenger. The guy was kind of mysterious about it too, so it better not be from a woman.”

  Kate handed the box to Frankie.

  He couldn’t manage opening it and had to ask Kate for help. He didn’t know if it was a bomb, but he knew he’d rather it be that than from a woman.

  Please don’t be from Shawna.

  Kate finished o
pening it and stared inside with a puzzled look on her face.

  “What is it?”

  “A phone.”

  “A phone?”

  She handed it to him. Frankie looked it over. It was a burner, and it had a note taped to the back with a number written on it. Frankie looked to Kate. “I hate to ask, but…”

  She shot him a glare. “I’m leaving.”

  Frankie dialed the number.

  “Hello.”

  “Who’s this?”

  “Hang on.”

  “Bugs, you alone?”

  Frankie paused, trying to recognize the voice. Who calls me Bugs except the old gang? Then it hit him. “Manny?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. How you doin’? You feeling better?”

  “I’m doing great for a guy who’s gotta piss through a tube. So what’s the call about? I know you’re not that interested in my health.”

  “Yeah, all that shit back to you. But listen, I thought I’d pass something along.”

  “I don’t like talking to you, Manny.”

  “How about listening then? You good at listening, ’cause this you should listen to.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Rumor on the street is that someone is looking for your friend.”

  “Nicky?”

  “How many friends you got? It ain’t like they’re knocking on your door every night.”

  “If they’re looking for Nicky,” Frankie said. “I assume they don’t want to take him to dinner.”

  “Not from what I heard.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. I like the kid. Tell him so.”

  “You know who’s looking?”

  “I can’t say, but you might want to write this number down. At least report him missing or something.”

  Frankie wrote the number. As soon as he hung up he dialed it. It was answered on the second ring.

  “Pronto.”

  Frankie recognized the voice. “Mr. Mangini.”

  “Who is this?”

  “Frankie Donovan.”

  Silence, then, “I heard you were sick.”

  “I’m getting better, thanks.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “You once told me you owed me one.”

  “If I remember, Detective, you refused that offer.”

  “I’m asking now.”

  More silence. “What?”