by Susan Gnucci
All of a sudden, a distraught security officer came tearing out of the building. He plowed into the group of fellow officers, crumpling into a heap in their midst. Out of breath and wheezing noisily, he tried desperately to collect himself while everyone looked on impatiently.
“What is it, Don? What’s the matter? Did you find her?” His supervisor was concerned for his young charge.
All the security officer could do for the moment was shake his head in response. As a result, McLean felt the coil in his gut relax ever so slightly. At least she hadn’t been found, but somebody had been; by the officer’s reaction, that was obvious. Finally, the officer managed to blurt out, “No, it’s not her. It’s the janitor. In…in the basement. In the mechanical room.” He clutched at his stomach as if he was going to be physically sick, prompting the two detectives to exchange knowing glances. How often in their careers do security officers see something like that? It had to be rough. And the guy was just a kid, probably no more than twenty-five. He would undoubtedly be haunted by that sight for some time to come.
As the two detectives headed towards the building, the poor man managed to collect himself enough to shout after them, “I didn’t touch anything. I remembered not to.” He hung his head and began to sob, muttering incoherently.
McLean turned and held up his arm in acknowledgement. “Good job, Don. Thanks.”
As they entered the building, they encountered several other security officers in a huddle; apparently, news spread fast. “I don’t want anyone else down there, do you hear me?” Baxter barked at the group. “Just send me down the next couple of police officers and the crime lab crew when they get here; got it?” Their heads bobbed in unison. “Where is this mechanical room?”
“First door to your left as you enter the basement, sir,” the security supervisor informed them as he joined the group, “but the door will be locked. I can take you,” he volunteered.
“OK, then. Come with us.” On the way, Baxter called for backup and the crime lab team.
As they entered the basement, both detectives donned gloves. Baxter handed a pair to the supervisor and eyed him impatiently as the man struggled self-consciously to fit his rather large hands into the standard size issue. Once at the door to the mechanical room, the supervisor quickly keyed it open and stepped aside as if he did not want to be party to the scene within.
“I want all your men gloved and I want that now,” ordered Baxter. “They don’t touch anything if they don’t have to and certainly not without gloves; got it?”
The supervisor swallowed hard and nodded his understanding after which he quickly left to brief his men.
An odour hit McLean squarely in the face upon entering the room, a tangy, almost metallic smell. He recognized it immediately. Once you’ve smelled it, you never forgot it. Sure enough, a few feet into the room lay the janitor, his throat opened up by a neat slice from ear to ear. It was clear he had quickly bled out as evidenced by the large pool of blood underneath his body.
“Poor bastard,” Baxter exclaimed, shaking his head as he flipped out a small notepad. He proceeded to conduct an initial investigation of the scene, making notes as he went, careful not to disturb anything. “Do you see that, Jay?” He pointed with his pencil towards the body.
McLean tried to focus on the scene before him. “See what?” he replied distractedly.
“The empty key ring on his belt.”
Both men looked up at the same instant, their expressions grim.
“Ah, Geez. That means he would have had access anywhere in the building…” McLean felt a chill run up his spine.
A thorough search of the room failed to produce a murder weapon or any other clues for that matter, and because several other police officers had arrived along with a member of the crime scene lab, the two detectives left in search of the security supervisor who had initially briefed them. They found him in the main lobby of the building taking reports from his men.
“You said Miss Walker would have had limited access in this building after hours. I want to see everywhere she would have been able to go,” Baxter commanded.
“Well, here on the main floor, she would have had keys for the two Astronomy labs located in the A-wing corridor,” the supervisor explained. “I can show you those.”
“Fine. Let’s go.” Baxter nodded briskly.
Once into the A-wing, the supervisor stopped mid-way down the hallway. “These are the two Astronomy labs,” he indicated, pointing out the two adjacent rooms. “As you can see,” he explained as he moved to stand beside the door on the right, “the schedule on this door indicates Miss Walker taught a lab section this afternoon from 3:30 – 6:30.”
“Alright. Let’s take a look.” Baxter gave the man a curt nod.
A quick inspection of the first lab room revealed a cell phone left in plain view on the instructor’s desk.
“Anyone touch it?” Baxter raised an eyebrow.
“No, sir,” the supervisor assured him.
Picking it up carefully in his gloved hand, McLean activated the screen. There was no need to speculate whose phone it was because it was not locked and the background photo that lit up was one of Tess and Leah. His stomach dropped. Had the killer confronted Tess in this room? A closer inspection yielded no clues – there was no apparent sign of a struggle, and there were no other personal items like a jacket or a purse. A similar search of the other Astronomy lab came up empty as well, so it was decided the dome facility on the roof warranted a look.
As the three men stepped into the elevator, the supervisor waved a pass card to engage it.
“Would Tess, I mean, would Miss Walker have had one of those?” McLean asked.
“Yes. The elevator is locked down at 5:00 p.m. after which time you need a pass card to engage it. Miss Walker would have had one, as well as keys for anything in the dome structure on the roof,” the supervisor explained.
“And I take it the janitor would have had one of those pass cards as well?’ Baxter asked.
“Yes, of course.”
The three men rode up the elevator in silence. Upon reaching the fifth floor, the supervisor crossed the small foyer to slip his key into the lock on the assembly room door. “That’s strange,” he mumbled.
“What is?” Baxter asked coming up behind him.
“The door. It’s unlocked,” the supervisor frowned. “It shouldn’t be.”
The senior detective gave his partner a quick look of support and then cautiously pushed the door open. The room was eerily lit by red emergency lighting, giving the scene before them an unearthly glow. Baxter quickly flipped on the overhead lights to dispel the mood and stepped inside followed closely by his partner.
At first glance, nothing seemed amiss. Chairs were neatly stacked against one wall, leaving the center of the room open. The only thing of note was a cupboard door that stood open, but upon closer inspection, it revealed nothing out of the ordinary. At the front of the room, the sole desk was stacked with lab notebooks, but nothing else. Baxter made note of the course and lab section number as a reminder to check if Tess was listed as the instructor.
McLean, who by this point had spotted something stashed under the desk, bent down to retrieve it, hauling out a distinctive green book bag in the process. He did not need to open it, for he knew immediately who it belonged to. How many times had he seen Tess carrying it? Going through the motions with a heavy heart anyway, he quickly confirmed his worst fears – her wallet was inside. He buckled with this knowledge, collapsing into the chair in front of the desk and hanging his head in his hands.
Baxter laid a hand on his young partner’s shoulder and held it there. “Take a minute, Jay,” he advised. Wanting to give his partner time to collect himself, Baxter walked over to the roof exit door. When the handle turned and the door opened, he gave the supervisor a quizzical look.
“That shouldn’t be unlocked either,” the supervisor confirmed.
“Would the janitor have had a key?” Baxter kne
w the answer but asked the question anyway.
The supervisor nodded his head solemnly.
“Would Miss Walker have had the key?”
“Yes. There are a number of smaller telescopes out on the roof viewing platform for students to use,” the supervisor explained.
“Have you got a flashlight?” Baxter asked, his face grim.
“There must be some up here somewhere. Let me take a look.” The supervisor seemed relieved to be able to do something and began to root through the drawers and cabinets in earnest. He soon came across a whole drawer of them.
In the meantime, McLean had joined the two men. “What about the dome? Do you think she would have gone in there?”
“If she did, it would have been a dead end…” The supervisor stopped himself mid-sentence.
“We’ll check it out after we have a look out here, Jay.” Baxter’s tone was firm, but gentle, and he motioned his partner toward the roof exit door, passing him a flashlight as he did so.
All three men headed out on to the roof, the crunch of gravel announcing their every step, the beams from their flashlights sending pale shafts of light into the dark night. Baxter had a lump in the pit of his stomach at the thought of Tess out on the roof with that psycho. For the first time in his life, he prayed they wouldn’t find anything.
Upon closer inspection, it was evident there weren’t many places to hide. The individual telescope mounts were too small to crouch behind, and the venting stacks were located on the other side of the dome itself, so there was no way to get over to them. The only other structure of any size was a mechanical shed at the far end of the roof. A quick circle around it, however, turned up nothing. And then an awful thought struck Baxter.
“The janitor would be able to access this shed with a master key, right?” He turned to the supervisor for confirmation.
“Well, it’s not somewhere a janitor would need access to, but if he had the building master, then yes, he could have accessed it.”
“But Tess couldn’t, right?”
“Right.”
At first, the supervisor didn’t appear to grasp the detective’s line of reasoning, but you could clearly see when he put two and two together.
“You don’t think he’d stick her in there?” he asked warily.
“Open it.”
The supervisor moved forward to unlock the door to the shed, but his hands were shaking so badly, it took several tries before he could even get the key in the lock. Feeling foolish, he quickly stepped out of the way once his job was done. Baxter took the lead in opening the door but turned around at the threshold and put out an arm to block his partner’s entry.
“Let me do it, Jay,” he said gently.
His partner nodded with relief and turned around. Walking a few paces away, he sucked in a lungful of the brisk night air and turned up the collar of his coat.
The shed was a small structure used to house equipment and tools. It was neatly kept, so a quick flip of the light switch revealed there was…no body. Baxter released the breath he had been holding and quickly called out to his partner to relieve the young man’s anguish. “Nothing, Jay.”
The supervisor, who had been expecting another gory scene, poked his head into the shed for good measure just to be sure. Shrugging his shoulders, he muttered to himself, “Don’t know why he’d go to all the trouble of hiding her in here when he could have just pushed her off…”
Both detectives’ heads snapped up.
Realizing he’d put his foot in his mouth for a second time, the supervisor backed away, retreating as inconspicuously as possible towards the roof exit door.
McLean immediately ran to the roof parapet and peered over the side of the building, straining his eyes, willing them to see through the darkness. Despite the lack of lighting, he ran along the perimeter of the roof, half expecting to see Tess’ vacant expression staring back up at him.
“Get your men to check the perimeter grounds of the building!” Baxter barked at the supervisor who jumped at the order and ducked back into the building like a truant schoolboy. “And leave me your keys!” Baxter roared after him. “Come on, Jay. Let’s check out the dome.” The tone of his voice made it clear he expected professionalism from his colleague, so McLean meekly followed his lead. A quick check of the dome itself, however, revealed nothing amiss, and the two detectives were back to square one.
“She was pretty well trapped up here, so what did he do with her?” Baxter began to brainstorm while pacing the small room, scowling in frustration. “If he killed her…” he started to say before wincing at his choice of words and throwing his partner an apologetic look, “…why wouldn’t he just leave her here? Why bother to take her?”
“Maybe he wanted to dump the body. Ah, Jesus, I can’t believe I just said that.” McLean backed up against the nearest wall and leaned against it for support, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his overcoat.
“Or maybe he simply knocked her out or chocked her into submission,” Baxter hypothesized. “Maybe killing her wasn’t in his plan. Think about it, Jay. He knows she’s psychic, just like him. That’s got to be a draw. Hell, maybe this is an abduction case, not a murder.” Offering up this scenario in an attempt to bolster his partner’s flagging spirits, Baxter tried to sound upbeat. “Come on. Let’s do our job.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned to leave but stopped short at the door when he realized his partner was not following his lead.
Instead, McLean was taking one last look at the open cupboard, attempting to fold his lanky frame so he could step inside. His height prevented him from doing so, but that did not deter his train of thought. Turning to his partner, his face full of hope, he exclaimed, “She would have fit, Ed.” He proceeded to examine every square inch of the cupboard in a desperate attempt to find something, anything. Dropping down on all fours, he reached with his pen underneath the lip of the cupboard and moved it along the length of the wall unit and out the far end. His excitement mounted as he could hear he’d swept something along. The first thing to come into view was a thumbtack and his heart sank. However, along with a dust ball, he next caught sight of something else – something plastic. Carefully picking it up, he held it triumphantly in front of his face. It was a syringe cap.
Baxter stepped closer to better view the object, and a look of comprehension dawned on his face. “Unless we’ve got some addicts using this room to shoot up, I’d say he drugged her.”
“Then she is alive, Ed!” McLean’s smile was tentative at first and then spread to encompass his whole face.
Once the two detectives returned to the main lobby of the building, McLean voiced the question they had both been pondering. “How do you think he got her out of the building once he sedated her? Carrying her out would be taking quite a risk.”
“I’m thinking I want to know where the janitor’s cart is,” Baxter speculated as he made a bee-line for the security supervisor who cringed upon seeing the burly detective bearing down upon him. “Have your men located a janitor’s cart anywhere in the building?” Baxter demanded.
“If…if you come with me sir, we found it d…down on the loading bay,” the supervisor stammered as he led the two men down the staircase into the basement. Passing through double doors onto the loading dock, they immediately spied the janitor’s cart abandoned at the foot of the ramp.
“Please tell me your men haven’t touched it,” Baxter turned and glared at the poor man.
“No, sir. All they did was report it.” The supervisor shook his head vehemently and stepped back.
“Good. We’ll get the lab guys on it.” Baxter proceeded to circle the cart, leaning over to peer into the large garbage bin it contained. “What do you think, Jay? Large enough to hide someone in, eh? And all he does is leave it here while he brings his car down the ramp.”
“Sounds plausible,” McLean agreed as he stood with his head tilted back, scanning the walls of the loading dock. “I don’t suppose we’d be lucky enough to have a surveil
lance camera out here,” he asked the supervisor forlornly.
“Sorry, sir,” the supervisor replied sheepishly. “We’ve never had a need for one,” he was quick to add.
Knowing Tess had been stashed and then loaded on this very spot made McLean’s gut roll over. What did that maniac want with her? Would they find her in time? And even if they did, what would he have done with her in the meantime?
Tess woke sluggishly to a dull, persistent throbbing at the back of her head. She tried to roll over in a feeble attempt to sit up but only succeeded in making herself nauseous. At first, she couldn’t recall the reason for her headache or for the grogginess she was experiencing, so she forced herself to take slow, deep breaths in an attempt to clear her mind. She wanted to call out to Leah for assistance but was afraid of what that would do to the pain in her head.
Gradually, she became aware of an offensive odour – a damp, musty smell – but in her confused state, she had trouble placing it. She wrinkled her nose and wracked her muddled brain for a comparable memory. This was something stale and moldy like a damp cardboard box. In order to get away from the pungent smell, she tried to lift her head but only succeeded in making herself nauseous again.
While fighting for control over her disorientation, a nagging unease began to worm its way into her consciousness. She slowly opened her eyes, and as she did so, her heart sank. The room she was in was lit by a single window – one that was obviously in a basement. She squinted at it for several seconds before her brain could comprehend the fact it was barred. Groaning, she closed her eyes, and it all came rushing back to her in a moment of clarity. Wishing she could find herself back in her own bedroom with something as trivial as a hangover when she reopened her eyes, she knew that would not be the case.
As she lay there shocked and defeated, Tess listened intently for any noise, any sound to indicate he was nearby. Despite straining her ears for several agonizing minutes, she heard…nothing.