Color of Justice

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Color of Justice Page 13

by Gary Hardwick


  “Going somewhere?” asked Danny.

  “To stay with Ivory,” said Vinny. “I have a big test tomorrow morning and a mixer tomorrow night. Ivory lives closer to campus, so it’ll be easier for me to just crash there. I’ll be able to study in the morning.”

  He looked into her eyes and imagined everything Renitta had said. He saw Vinny in the company of her fellow students and professors, discussing all kinds of smart people shit. Then he saw himself, standing over the bodies of the Bakers covered in dirt and rolling Olittah Resse out of the river, dead as you can get. Then finally, he saw his mother tumbling to her doom.

  “I’ll get up early and we can go down together,” Danny said.

  “Won’t you have to report early at the SCU?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “But what, Danny? I know how it goes. You got a hot one, and you have to take the lead on it. So do it.”

  “What about this mixer thing tomorrow? I’ll come to that then.” He was grasping now and hated himself for it.

  “Oh, you wouldn’t like that,” said Vinny. “A lot of stuffy people talking about school. I’m just going to make contacts. I don’t really want to go myself.”

  He started to say something, to keep the discussion going, but he didn’t want to argue anymore. He knew their relationship. They would both dig in, it would get ugly, and she’d leave anyway. So, he kissed her, said a quick good-bye, and declared victory.

  Danny watched Vinny and her sisters walk to the curb. As they moved away, he was strangely reminded of the kids at his elementary school and how they had all shunned him in those first days.

  Scars never heal, they just stop bleeding. He heard Gordon’s voice in his head.

  The three sisters got into their cars and drove off. Danny couldn’t help but think that for all of Renitta’s terrible feelings for him, she had tried to do him a favor. But he didn’t think she was right. He didn’t think the world could take Vinny away from him.

  17

  JURISDICTION

  Danny and Erik arrived at work early, thinking that they’d get a preliminary from Fiona on the Reese murder. Danny had had a restless night. He tortured himself thinking about the new murder and the fact that Vinny had walked out on him. And for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out which bothered him the most.

  The SCU was alive with activity. A couple of detectives from Fraud had been transferred to their unit temporarily and several uniformed officers had been assigned as well. The already cramped office was made even more so with all the new bodies stuffed into it. Danny was painfully aware that he and Erik were at the center of all this new activity. No matter how many people were on the case, it was theirs to win or lose.

  Jim Cole opened the door to his office and asked Danny and Erik to come inside. He’d been holed up in there all morning, with the door closed, which was unlike him.

  In the office, they were greeted by two federal types, straight and clean in their nondescript suits. The man was an FBI agent named Chip Unger. Danny knew him from a couple of joint investigations. Chip was white, about forty-five or so, and bald as an eagle. He stood like a soldier at attention, and Danny recalled that Chip had also been in the marines. Chip was all spit and polish.

  The woman was black and thirtyish. Her face was pretty, but not overly so. Her skin was light brown, her eyes were about the same color, and her lips were nice and full. She hid this under some old, schoolteacher-type glasses. Her hair was pulled back and wrapped tight, completing the matronly package.

  “Detectives,” said Chip, “this is Janis Cates. She’s from Quantico.”

  Danny and Erik shook Janis’s hand, said hellos, then looked back to Chip, who just smiled.

  “Did Jim tell you what’s going on here?” asked Chip.

  “No,” said Erik.

  Danny didn’t say anything. He was watching Janis, who was looking at him strangely. It was that look a defense attorney gives you when he moves in for cross-examination. “What do you mean my client raised the weapon?” Danny imagined Janis saying. He didn’t know what to make of the look, then it dawned on him that she was reading him. The way he read suspects and situations. He couldn’t resist a smile. At this, she cocked an eyebrow.

  “Sorry,” said Jim. His voice cut the look between Janis and Danny.

  “No problem,” said Chip. “We can all get acquainted.”

  “Good,” said Jim. “Brown, Cavanaugh, the FBI has come in on your murder case.”

  Before Danny and Erik could say a word, Jim held up a hand.

  “You can be pissed later,” said Jim, “but it’s already done. Olittah Resse was found in international waters.”

  “The Detroit River?” asked Erik.

  “The Canadians found her,” Chip corrected. “They reported it to the Justice Department. It’s routine. Look, guys, I know you don’t like this kind of thing, but we do have jurisdiction here. However, we haven’t come to take over the case. We’ve come bearing gifts.”

  “What?” asked Danny a little too hard.

  “Janis here,” said Chip. He raised a hand in her direction.

  “Ms. Cates is a behavioral psychologist from FBI headquarters,” said Jim, grabbing some papers with FBI letterhead. “She’s been assigned to help us do a case study and any analysis we need on serial murder.”

  “Serial killer?” said Danny with surprise. “No one said nothing about that.”

  “He’s killed in the same manner more than once,” said Janis in a very official tone. “That’s textbook. I’m interested in this particularly because there has never been a black serial killer proven to satisfaction in America. As far as the science is concerned, it is the exclusive province of white males.”

  “What about that brother in Atlanta?” asked Erik.

  “Wayne Williams,” added Jim. He seemed to be interested in where Janis was going.

  “Many people believe that Wayne Williams is innocent,” said Janis. “He was convicted on circumstantial evidence, carpet fibers, and in the end, he was only connected on two of the killings. As I said, there hasn’t been a black serial killer proven to satisfaction and the advent of one must be treated in more than just a casual manner.”

  Silence hung for a moment as all the detectives got used to the idea of working with each other as well as referring to the murderer as a serial killer, something Danny and Erik didn’t like one damned bit.

  “There have only been two murder scenes,” said Danny. “How did you catch on to the case?”

  “I was wondering about that, too,” said Jim.

  Chip looked at Janis, who took a step forward as if she had been called on in a class.

  “All of the homicides in the country are run through a national database. Eventually, they all come through our office’s computers. I told the workers in data to keep on the lookout for particular kinds of murders.” She paused and had everyone’s attention. “I was looking for multiple murders where the victims were black and the perpetrator was also.”

  “And what makes you so sure he’s black?” Danny said in a challenging tone.

  Sensing what was in his voice, Janis turned to Danny.

  “A serial killer preys within his own race or subgroup. All of our victims are black, that means the killer is also.”

  “Jeffrey Dahmer killed black men, but he was white,” said Danny.

  “Dahmer was a homosexual, and so he was within his subgroup,” said Janis. “Race was irrelevant to him. He was motivated by sexual preference.”

  “And what about male killers who murder women of different races?” said Danny. “Are they within their subgroup?”

  Janis looked irritated. The conversation had suddenly been turned into a debate between them. Chip looked upset about this; obviously he’d be charged with making the transition happen smoothly. Erik seemed amused and Jim even more so. He was openly smiling.

  “In the case of women, the male killers usually have a sexual psychosis, impotence, or gender confusion.
Therefore, he is still within his subgroup.”

  “That sounds thin to me,” said Danny.

  “Neither here nor there, Mr. Cavanaugh,” said Janis.

  They locked eyes for a second, but it was not anger that ran between them. It was respect. Janis was a tough woman and she wanted the men to know it. Danny could see in her eyes the most important thing of all. She wanted to nail the killer as much as they did.

  It didn’t take long for Danny to know what he thought of a person. Janis had a cop’s heart, but she was horning in on his case, and he didn’t like it. Still, he knew that if he gave her a hard time he’d be kicked off the case, and that wouldn’t benefit anyone. There was more good than bad in Janis, so he decided right then and there that he didn’t hate her.

  “So, if our boy is black,” said Danny, “how does that help us?”

  Janis’s eyes showed that she was claiming victory over Danny, but she was good enough not to make a big deal out of it.

  “It’s one more piece of information we have where before we knew nothing,” she said. “My job will be to build a profile of this person, trait by trait, to narrow down the suspects.”

  “Janis has authored several papers on the subject,” said Chip. “She’s top flight on this.” He was unmistakably proud.

  “How will you build the profile?” asked Jim.

  “The normal ways,” said Janis. “Review of all violent crimes and reporting of all unusual or weird offenses since the killings started. Serial killers are often motivated by bizarre emotions, cravings, or desires. Like in Vermont, there was a man who thought his pig was telling him to kill people. He broke into a toy store and stole a collection of piggy banks to put in his room at home.”

  They all laughed at this story, and it seemed to put Janis more at ease. Danny laughed, too, but he was still skeptical of the woman. Feds were arrogant and pushy, and so far she hadn’t acted differently.

  “So, will you need to review the case file?” asked Jim.

  “I already looked at the Bakers’ file,” Janis said.

  “And what did you determine?” Danny asked.

  “Well,” said Janis, adjusting her glasses, “he didn’t pick the Bakers at random, he chose them for a reason. The ease with which he gained entry tells us that he may have been in the house before or cased it prior to the killing. He used a simple weapon and had a purpose for using it, so it would kill the victims slowly. He removed their gags and put them back in intervals. This leads me to believe that he wanted them to die slowly so he could question them about something, probably related to his psychosis.”

  Danny was impressed. The business with the gags had confused everyone and she made it seem so simple. The killer was talking to them. It was likely she was right.

  “Of course this is all speculation,” said Chip, again with pride.

  “So, whatever we can do to help,” said Jim.

  “I’ll need an office,” said Janis. “And I want to talk to the forensic team leader, ASAP.”

  “I can get you to Fiona today,” said Jim. “But it’ll take seven years to get you that office.”

  Erik and Danny laughed along with Jim. Chip laughed, too. Janis, who was left out of the joke, looked confused and mildly upset, as if the men had just engaged in some secret, antiwoman joke.

  “Only Jim has an office in the SCU,” said Danny. “You can share desk space with me and Erik.”

  “Oh,” said Janis. “I didn’t notice. Excuse me.”

  Danny, Erik, and Janis left Jim and Chip to talk about the details. Erik stopped at the door, but Danny walked out ahead of her.

  “Don’t believe in chivalry?” Danny heard Janis say from behind him.

  It took Danny a second to remember what the hell that word meant. “Yes, but we’re all cops in here.”

  “I like that,” she said. She smiled for the first time.

  “You can sit here by me,” Erik said. “We’ll move our crap and clear a space and you can take part of both of our desks.”

  Janis thanked Erik and started dropping her things at the end of the desks. She took off her jacket, and Danny saw that what he thought was extra weight was actually a bad suit over a very shapely body. It’s hard to hide a well-endowed chest and hips, but she was doing a good job. He could see Janis telling herself not to project a sexual image to the men, so she could be taken seriously. The SCU’s own two female detectives never wore dresses, even when going to court to testify, and they generally maintained a demeanor that was not close to being feminine.

  Danny saw a couple of the other guys give Janis a look and he felt uncomfortable with his thoughts. He didn’t want to add to her problems, so he pretended not to notice.

  Janis settled in and Danny got used to the idea of working with her. He got the file on Olittah Reese and gave it to Janis, who seemed genuinely happy to be reading about yet another murder. She was weird, but she seemed to love her job, and that would make them get along just fine, he thought.

  Danny turned on his boom box and out came a tune by Mos Def.

  “Why you wanna torture the woman on her first day?” asked Erik.

  “Quiet, old man,” said Danny. “You like this, right, Janis?”

  “It doesn’t bother me,” said Janis. “Personally, I prefer jazz.”

  Danny smiled at Erik victoriously and turned up the music a little.

  Janis pulled something from the files, then went to the bulletin board next to the desks. She grabbed several pins and tacked something to the board. She stepped aside revealing the faces of the three victims.

  Mr. Baker smiled in a tux from a blown-up copy of a photo they’d taken from the murder scene. In another photo, Mrs. Baker was in gardening clothes, and Olittah Reese looked serious in her smart business suit in a publicity photo taken in the mayor’s office.

  “It helps to see the faces of the victim as they were,” said Janis. “We’ll be reminded of their cause every day we come in here.”

  Janis sat back down and Erik walked up to the board. He stood at the end of the pictures spread across the middle of the board and then turned to walk back.

  Suddenly, something hit Danny. There was a marked difference between the living man and the dead people in the pictures. And in that moment he wanted to slap himself for not seeing it earlier. All of the victims were very light-skinned blacks. Erik’s darker skin highlighted the clue.

  Danny looked at the Bakers and Olittah Reese and none of them were even brown or light brown in complexion. They were very light in complexion, as close to white as you could get.

  Erik was about to come back to the desk, when Danny asked him to stop, not to move.

  “Why?” he asked.

  Danny walked to the board, but stood on the other end, in front of the pictures, to show the spectrum.

  “Janis,” said Danny. “Look.”

  Janis turned and looked at the picture Danny had set up. She took a moment to get it, then, “I see,” she said. “I never even thought about that.”

  “What?” asked Erik. His tone was impatient.

  “All of the killer’s victims are light-skinned blacks,” said Danny.

  Erik looked at the photos, then turned back to Danny. His face took on an odd look, an expression that Danny could make out, then he quickly washed it away.

  “Do you think that’s significant?” asked Janis. She had the same look on her face as Erik, only on her it lingered a while longer before disappearing.

  “I should be asking you that,” said Danny. “You’re the psycho expert.”

  Janis frowned at the use of the word psycho, then she turned back to the board and looked at it again.

  “It may be significant,” she said finally. “Since our killer is black, he may have some kind of color fixation.”

  “I’d call three murders more than a fixation,” said Danny.

  Erik and Danny went back to their desks and sat down.

  “Fascinating,” said Janis. “This opens up a myriad of pos
sibilities. And it means I’m right. Our boy is black and he’s preying within his subgroup.” To Danny, she said, “Good catch, Detective. Perhaps it took a nonblack person to see that so clearly.”

  Janis started to write notes furiously on a pad. Then Jim stopped by and he and Janis started talking about the process of gathering information on odd crimes in the city.

  Danny sat down at his desk not knowing what to make of her last statement. He didn’t feel that he saw color any more or less than anyone else. But this observation was intraracial, he thought, color within color.

  Danny was suddenly filled with a sense of dread. The killer had already proven to be deadly and elusive. Janis’s words and observations only enhanced this fact in his mind. They scratched at the edges of his thinking, bringing clouds of menace into his normally focused mind. And somehow he knew that if he existed, a black serial killer was a more terrible force than a white one.

  PART TWO

  Vision of Justice

  * * *

  A killer always leaves a receipt.

  —DANNY CAVANAUGH

  * * *

  18

  THIRD PARTNER

  Danny drove the car with Erik riding shotgun. Janis sat in the back, taking in the scenery. It was strange to Danny having another cop in the car, and he tried not to think of her as an intruder. The FBI had a long and distinguished history of working with the Detroit police, so any objections he had wouldn’t matter.

  They were headed to the Bakers’ house, then to see Fiona. Janis wanted to examine the crime scene. She wanted to get the feel of the place. From just being there, she would get a sense of what their killer might be like. Danny didn’t know what that meant, but he was going along with it. Since Olittah Reese was found in the river, Janis would have to be satisfied with whatever Fiona had for them.

 

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