Punish the Deed (A Lucinda Pierce Mystery)

by Fanning, Diane

  Forty-Nine

  A half-hour later, the strain of prolonged high alert began to manifest its presence on Lucinda’s body. She felt the ache of tensed shoulder blades, the uncomfortable tightness in the back of her neck, the slight pain caused by the twist of dread that settled in her lower spine. Lucinda disliked waiting for any reason. But when the stakes were this high, she loathed every passing second.

  She looked over at Jake who nodded toward the logistics vehicle. The commander stood outside the truck staring in their direction. When he saw they were both looking his way, he made a pointed glance at his wristwatch.

  “Damn him,” Lucinda said.

  “Just doing his job, Lucinda.”

  “His definition of doing his job interferes with our need to do our job, Jake. And I don’t like that one little bit.”

  They both sighed and slumped against the wall, trying to find a spot of comfort against the hard bricks and mortar.

  Fifteen more fretful minutes passed before Lucinda’s cell phone rang. She fumbled with it in her pocket before getting it out and flipping it on. “Lieutenant Pierce.”

  “I was left behind, Lieutenant.”

  “I know that, Charles. And it wasn’t right.”

  “Don’t patronize me, Lieutenant.”

  “Sorry, Charles.” She closed her eyes and put a hand over the opposite ear to better hear what he was saying and the tone of his voice as well as to get better cues from the background noises on his end of the line.

  “No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I didn’t fall for it.”

  Lucinda accepted the rebuke and remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

  “I see you picked up the delivery I left for you,” Murphy said.

  “Yes, Charles, we did. We weren’t pleased with that. We do not want anyone else to die. I see you got my note.”

  “Yes, I got your note. And no, I didn’t expect you to be pleased, Lieutenant. But it was just another Goodie Two Shoes. There’s too many of them in the world, acting important, acting like they make a difference. You think their deaths matter. You think it’s disturbing. On the other hand, I don’t think it would bother you at all if I were to die.”

  “Every human being is capable of making a positive difference in the lives of others, Charles – even you.”

  “You can’t con me, Lieutenant. And no one made a positive difference in my damn life. Not a one. No, ma’am. Those damn Goodie Two Shoes knew what was happening to me but did they do anything about it? No. And now they’re paying. But the one this morning – she wasn’t part of the plan. She forced me to shoot her.”

  “What can we do to make sure no one else forces your hand, Charles?”

  “Go away and leave me alone.”

  “You know that’s not going to happen. So what do you really want?”

  “This whole thing was not supposed to happen. I was just minding my own business till that asshole cop called in the storm troopers. What the hell was that about? I didn’t do nothin’ to him.”

  “He recognized you, Charles. He knew that law enforcement was looking for you.”

  “Law enforcement. What a stupid name. You don’t do that. You don’t make people obey the law. You all show up after the law is broken. You all are avengers. That’s all. You don’t enforce nothing. And it was you. Not ‘law enforcement.’ It was you that was looking for me. You.”

  “Yes, Charles. I wanted to ask you some questions.”

  “Yeah. That’s all you wanted. Right. Sell me a farm in Manhattan.”

  “I certainly would have taken you into custody, Charles. But I did want to talk to you. I did want to ask you a few questions.”

  “About the details. That’s what you wanted to know, right? You murder police are just like me and all the folks you hunt. You get off on the details, dontcha? You get a big-ass thrill when we tell you about what we’ve done. You wanted to ask me how I did it. How it felt. What I felt. I know you. You’re just like me.”

  “Well, yes, someone will have to talk to you about all of that, Charles, to make sure you are telling the truth when you confess to the crimes. But that’s not what I wanted to ask you about. I wanted to ask you about your notes. I wanted to understand your notes. But, Charles, things are so confusing right now. I want to make sure that none of the kids die while we sort out this mess.”

  “I’m not killing no damn kids unless you make me.”

  “Charles, I can hear some of them whining and crying. I know how that can get on anyone’s nerves. Let me take them off of your hands. Send them out.” She waited but got no response. “Charles?” she asked. “Charles?”

  “I heard you. There are a couple of them that are making me nuts. They just won’t shut up. I might let you have them two. You’ll have to come into the lobby. Just you. No weapons. You come with weapons I kill kids. You come with anybody else, I kill kids. That work for you?”

  “Yes, Charles. That’s not a problem.”

  “I’ll call you back.”

  “Charles, wait––” Lucinda began but stopped when she heard the dial tone.

  Fifty

  Murphy herded everyone back into Dr. Hirschman’s office where he ripped the phone cord from the wall outlet near the baseboard and attempted to collect a cell phone from every adult. Three of them claimed to have left theirs in another part of the building. He held a knife to the stringy blond girl’s throat and sent them out to retrieve their cells one at a time. He loudly counted down the thirty seconds of allowed time as each one scrambled for a device and returned with it.

  He turned to Dr. Hirschman. “Pick them all up,” he ordered. As the dentist complied, Murphy shifted the child’s body around, wrapping the crook of his arm around her stomach. She hung there trembling, facing the floor.

  “Follow me.” He led him into the closest examination room. “Drop them into the sink and turn on the water.”

  “That’ll ruin them.”

  “No shit, Sherlock. Do it or I slice the girl.” He poked her with the tip of the knife hard enough to draw blood and cause her to squeal in fear.

  Hirschman turned on the faucet full strength and blocked the sink with wadded up paper towels as instructed.

  Murphy heard a quiet thump and stepped into the hall. He pulled his gun and pointed it at a door. “Open it,” he ordered.

  Hirschman pulled on the knob of a utility closet. A hygienist stood back in a corner. Murphy waved the gun and ordered her to come out in the hall. When she didn’t move, he noticed the smaller legs hiding behind hers. “Don’t play hero. Your friend is dead because she did. Come out here with the kid or you and the kid will die in that corner.”

  She hesitated for a moment and then reached down, took the girl’s hand and walked out to the hall. As she walked past Murphy, he asked, “Where’s your cell phone?”

  Her mouth was so dry he could hear the click of her tongue pulling away from the roof of her mouth. “At the front desk,” she said.

  He grabbed the shoulder of the girl, pulling her small hand out of the hygienist’s hand. He pulled her to his side and he said, “Go get it.”

  Her nostrils flared. She swallowed hard. Turned and walked up the hall. She returned immediately. She dropped the phone into his hand and lifted the girl into her arms and glared at him.

  He laughed in her face and stuck the cell in the waistband of his pants. Murphy then moved everyone down the hall and into the office with the others. A couple of children were whining and one was sobbing. “Shut them up,” he said. They tried but despite the shushing and coaxing, the irritating noises still grated on Murphy’s ears. He tried to ignore it as he spoke.

  “We have a mess. A big mess. Most of you were not supposed to be involved. You can blame your predicament on that nosy cop in the lobby. He blew it. Now instead of coming in here and taking care of Chief Goodie Two Shoes here,” he said, pointing to Dr. Hirschman, “I’ve had to take all of you hostage. It was not my choice. And it’s not my damn fault. I don
’t want to kill the whole lot of you but I will if I have to. So pay attention and do what you’re told.

  “Right now, I need you all to shut up ’cause I’m making a call. Anyone tries to get smart and I’ll kill a kid and then kill you.” He laid the note Lucinda left on the desk and pulled out the last phone he confiscated. After talking to Lucinda, he pointed and said, “I want that kid and that kid.”

  A woman stepped in front of each child and said, “No!”

  Murphy fired a shot into the shoulder of one of the adults, making her stagger to the side. He pointed at the other woman. “You want me to shoot you, too? I will. But I’ll aim at your head. Do you want these kids to see that?”

  “I am not going to let you hurt this child,” she said, her eyes wide and wet with unfallen tears.

  “I’m not going to kill them damned kids. I’m giving them to the cop, you stupid bitch. Get out of the way or I’ll shoot,” Murphy yelled as he leveled the gun just four inches away from her skull.

  Frozen with fear, she still did not move.

  “Please, sir,” Hirschman said. “We’re all a bit overwrought. Did you say you wanted to give two children to the police?”

  “Yes,” Murphy shouted.

  “Dee, please step away from that child and let him go with that man.”

  “But how can we trust him, Doctor?”

  “Dee, please . . .”

  Dee’s eyes slid back and forth between the dentist and the man with the gun. Fear furrowed her brow and made her teeth chatter.

  “I’m giving you to the count of five, Dee,” Murphy screamed. “One. Two.”

  Dee stepped sideways. The little boy, who’d been behind her, screamed.

  “You,” Murphy ordered Hirschman. “Grab the brat. Pick him up. Then get that whiny little girl. Hurry up.”

  Hirschman hoisted a child up into each arm. The children struggled against him but he held them tight.

  “Go. Toward the lobby. Now. When you get to the door, sit on the floor in the hallway.”

  Hirschman followed instructions, sitting with his back against the wall, holding the squirming children as firmly as he could. He whispered to them, trying to soothe and quiet them without much success.

  “The cop is coming in for the kids; you try to leave with the cop, Doctor Goodie Two Shoes and you’ll die where you stand,” Murphy warned. “And then the kids’ll all die, too. You understand that?”

  “Yes,” he said with a nod. “Yes, I do.”

  “All right. Don’t move. And you can smack those kids around to get ’em to shut up if you want.”

  The two children squirmed and squealed even more, despite the dentist’s assurances that he had no intention of hitting them.

  Murphy called Lucinda again. When she answered, he said, “Come in and get these two kids. But remember, I’ll be watching every second. You try anything and the kids will die.”

  Fifty-One

  Ricky fought to suppress giggles. He wasn’t sure what game he was playing but it seemed to be something like hide and seek. Inside the cabinet, it was dark and a little scary.

  He sniffed the air, seeking something familiar there. One of the smells reminded him of the sawdust in his grandpa’s workshop. That was nice. It made him smile. The other smell was damp and wet like a basement. That odor caused his brow to furrow and made him think of spiders and snakes and nasty little mice. In less than a minute, though, Ricky’s eyes adjusted and he could see some of his surroundings, causing his fear to fade.

  On one end, there was a sink above him. He saw the bowl curve down and the drainpipe go down through the floor. He touched the copper pipe for the incoming water. It was cold and damp.

  He wondered when the lady was coming back. He wasn’t all that good at keeping still and now he was getting restless.

  Ricky heard a loud noise. He threw both of his hands over his mouth to muffle his spontaneous outcry. He recognized the sound of a gun firing. He’d heard it before, in Mr. Franklin’s store below his apartment the day it was robbed by a bad man and Mr. Franklin’s son was shot. And he died. And for days, he heard the sounds of Mrs. Franklin’s sobs drifting up through the floor. He knew that sound the second it echoed outside of his hiding place. He knew it and he hated it.

  It wasn’t a game anymore. He heard the little girl scream and thought the bad man must have shot her. He had no idea that the woman who hid him away now lay lifeless on the hallway floor.

  Even without that knowledge, he was scared. He wanted to run. He wanted to throw the door open, jump out and get as far away from here as he could. Fear froze his limbs, locked his joints. He could not coax his body into motion.

  He heard loud voices. He couldn’t hear the words but he could hear the anger in one voice. That terrified him and created an intense urge to pee. He grabbed hold of himself and held tight. He couldn’t pee in there. And he couldn’t get to the bathroom.

  He started bouncing in place but banged the top of his head and stopped. He held his breath, fearful that someone had overheard the small noise he made.

  He heard something in the hallway – scraping, rubbing, slipping sounds – as if something was being dragged across the floor. A man made grunting noises. A door slammed. He heard the murmur of several voices. Should he shout for help? Or were they bad men, too?

  In his indecision, he made the choice to remain silent. Noises he couldn’t identify mingled with those that issued from human throats. Doors slammed shut. Then footsteps went back up the hall.

  He was alone now. Should he run? Could he make it to the door? He didn’t know. Tears formed in his eyes. He pressed his lips together to keep from crying out loud.

  He sought refuge in withdrawal. He pulled inside of himself. The shaking stopped. The tears ended. Soon he breathed deeply, softly. He was asleep. The peaceful sleep of innocence in the face of fear.

  A loud noise jarred him from his slumber. What was it? Another gun shot? Where was it? He sobbed in silence – lips pressed together, body rocking in place. I wanna go home. I want my mom. He rubbed his eyes and searched for the courage to break out of the cabinet and run.

  Fifty-Two

  Lucinda jogged over to brief the commander on the conversation. Jake leaned against the wall awaiting her return. When he saw the escalation of her hand movements, he knew it was not going well. He jogged over to give her support.

  “Isn’t that good news, Commander?” he asked as soon as he got in audible distance.

  “I was just telling the Lieutenant that time was running out. About ten minutes before the hour’s up.”

  “Damn it to hell,” Lucinda blurted out.

  Jake laid a hand on her forearm and said, “Commander, the situation has changed. We need to give this a bit more time to work its way out.”

  The commanding officer puffed out his chest and squinted his eyes at Jake. “Why is it every time you say something, it sounds like a threat?”

  Jake sighed, “Commander, that’s your problem. Not mine. I have never threatened you. I’ve merely stated the facts.”

  “So you think we should let that asshole pull all the strings. And we just sit out here biding our time, waiting for him to do whatever it is he’s gonna do?”

  “Pretty much,” Jake said as he stuck his hands on his hips and glared.

  “Whatever,” the commander said with a shrug. “But it ain’t on my head.”

  “No, sir,” Jake said. “Neither one of us want you to take any responsibility for our decisions.”

  “That’s good on paper but you two get to leave town and I’ll be the one they kick. You know that and I know that.”

  Lucinda jumped back into the conversation. “So, what’s your point? I’m local. I’ve carried baggage that wasn’t mine. But it’s part of the job.”

  Before the commander could respond, the muffled sound of a shot rang through the air. They all turned to the men by the building. One of them shouted, “Gun shot. Inside.”

  “Shit!” the commanding
officer shouted. “Damn me for listening to you. We’re going in.” The commander got on the communications line and ordered the SWAT team into position.

  As Lucinda and Jake watched the black-clad, helmet-wearing gladiators move around the building and prepare for an assault, Lucinda said, “This is wrong, Jake. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. We need more time.”

  “I know but we’re not going to get it.”

  Lucinda’s cell rang. “It’s him,” she hissed before answering.

  “Nobody got killed,” he said.

  “We can’t exactly take you on your word about that, Charles.”

  “I know. But I’m still sending those kids out. They’ll tell you. I did shoot somebody. But she’s not going to die. Not unless you do something stupid.”

  “If she’s shot, Charles, why don’t you just send her out with the kids?”

  Murphy did not respond.

  “C’mon, Charles, if she by chance dies from losing blood while you’re holding her in there, she’s gonna be a big problem for you. Send her out with the kids. It’ll give ya one less thing to worry about.”

  “Okay. I don’t need her. But don’t trying anything stupid. Just come into the lobby – just you – nobody else. And tell those storm troopers gathering around the building to back off or I’ll get edgy and someone will die.”

  When he disconnected the call, Lucinda turned to Jake. “Go tell the commander. I’m going in to get those kids and I’m going in now.”

  She pulled one gun out of her shoulder holster and her back-up from her ankle. She carried one in each hand as she walked to the door prepared to hand them off to the officer there. Before she made it, a SWAT team member stepped in front of her. “You can’t go in there, Lieutenant. We’re ready to roll.”

  “Put on the brakes and let me through.”