by Ivan Bering
At this point, I break the rules and talk to Sam about the Dr. Max case and my assignment. Sam is a good sounding board, as he always says: psychologists get paid to listen. As I wander around the house, he lets my talk until I run dry.
“Charlie, let’s try this from another angle: motive. Whatever happened, someone had a strong motive. Why would someone get into this? There must be a compelling reason for someone lie or try and beat the Interrogations. You haven’t given me much along that line.”
He’s right I just kept thinking Max was after a young girl and knew he could rig results. But, why would he suddenly go after young Sally? He’d been lusting after her for some time. Why not wait until she becomes of age? I tell him the latest comments from the Board.
“There a few on the Board, who believe Max has developed this grandstand scheme to flout his intelligence. I think it’s more basic; the son of bitch has screwed his way across the world, let alone the campus.”
Sam ignores my comments and starts from a different direction.
“I’ll share this with you. All of us have this profound desire for order and we want to categorize objects. Look at our sciences, like biology. We want boundaries, we want to put things in boxes. It’s intrinsic……it’s human nature.
The Judge gave you this assignment for a reason; he does not want you chasing the technical aspects, he already has that direction covered with Dr. Kate. She is doing the linear analysis. He wants you to break out of the boxes……..look with fresh eyes….assume the inconceivable, the unthinkable….nothing is sacred.”
And with those comments he says an abrupt good bye and is out the door. He left me all the dishes, the kitchen to clean up, and a bag of home-made cookies.
I know he’s right, I’ve wandered off the track. Is there a better way to review all the material? Am I reviewing in the wrong sequence? Am I dealing with an anachronism? I tackle the dishes and the mess on the floor; this cleanup is good for the mind; it’s like a fresh start.
I’m going back to the beginning and looking for motives and reasons. Sam is right: something extraordinary happened and someone had to have a strong reason to tackle the Interrogations. I can’t solve this via technology. I have to tackle it like a standard homicide investigation.
I put every player, even those on the periphery, on my list and start walking through everything education, finances, family issues, traffic tickets, awards, and whatever surfaces. Brewster’s team has done an excellent job: all the details are present, topped off with summaries, and analysis. I crawl through each page, make notes and get frustrated. Then I notice a few gaps in the detail. Well, maybe not gaps but there is something wrong in this detail.
I get on the network and try to fill in the gaps. My position allows access to all the files I’m after, confidentiality not a factor. More coffee and Sam’s cookies keep my going. Can you believe this? I just finished breakfast and I’m starting into the cookies. I guess it is better than booze.
I’m still playing shuffle the deck with all my hard copy, so I have paper spread all over the living room (and dining room) floor. Something isn’t right, but I can’t get any further.
I phone Monk. We talk about Ron and the upcoming role I have as a Watcher. Still procrastinating, I phone Sam and thank him for the cookies. Finally, I grab my gym bag and drive over to the club.
At the club, I start on a new treadmill which allows a wide-ranging of programming, and I set up a long run, with hills, changing speeds, and the works. I’m winded and covered with a fine layer of sweat, well really not that fine. After this, I get into the free weights. It’s early in the morning, but some people are already winding down, in a hurry to finish and join the workforce. I do a multitude of reps with various weights. Last stop is the shower and hot tub. For a change, the hot tub is empty. There are two jets which are exceptionally strong and almost push me across the tub. But I find my spot and relax, enjoying the action of the hot streams of water on my back and legs.
The relaxation in a hot tub regularly works for me. I don’t understand what happens; my theory is the deep relaxation allows the solution to surface. The oddities in the material I’ve reviewing become clear, and I understand what’s been bothering me.
I’m grinning and feel like that ancient Greek, but I’m not stupid enough to go running naked down the street. The damn word ‘eureka’ bounces in my mind, I can’t help it. Did I say I was grinning? Son of a bitch.
The Judge was right the problem needed a different perspective. It’s not what I thought. It’s old fashion police work which may have solved the puzzle. I’m in and out of the showers in a matter of minutes, the drive home a blur.
A few more screens of data are retrieved to complete the detail I need; now I almost 100% sure about what happened and why. I summarize my finds and conclusions in four paragraphs on one page. You really don’t have to be a genius to beat the system but then again to takes a genius to provide the simple or elegant answer.
I phone Manuel and ask him to follow up on two points which have to be rock solid; I need further confirmation, should only take him a couple of hours. Research like this is his strength. It seems almost too simple, but it would work. All you need is the balls to see it through and play your hand.
I think I have the solution to the Dr. Max case but it will be an awkward takedown. The evidence has to be solid, Manuel’s research will be the final step. In the end I will still need help–– I will need to convince the Judge to play his part. This is a case of having the answer right in front of you, and you insist on ignoring the obvious. This’ll not be pleasant. .
It is well past midafternoon when I leave the house. I have to change gears and deal with the secret recorder. It’s time to roundup the technical assistants I need and the equipment for the Conference room exit. I need these men and detection equipment for the next Board meeting. I have about 24 hours. If this doesn’t work, I will be unemployed.
But first one other stop at Homicide; Karen guarantees my satisfaction; her message rather blunt. “Get here Charlie; everyone is waiting. We have some answers.”
I can’t ignore the command but know my biggest challenge will come after Karen’s meeting. I will be up against Judge Stephen. Jesus Christ ……what a mess this will be when it’s finished.
CHAPTER 39: An Amazing Video
Wes, in the far corner, was excited about the personnel files finally released by the west coast cities, details about cops who worked as Hybrids and matched the other parameters of the brainstorm profile. He was anxious to get going; he had isolated three excellent candidates, all resignations in the right time frame, with suspicious circumstances. He would, eventually, have to talk to the west coast supervisors and hope they would be frank and open. But now he had names and photos; he did not have time for this meeting.
At the back, Terry sprawled on a chair and yelled at his partner. “Manuel, where the hell you been? Get back here; I’ve saved a seat.”
Manuel hustled out of the doorway, into the room and to the chair. He’d finished the Dr. Max assignment for Charlie and was still startled by the case Charlie was weaving together. For creating chaos: no one could match this senior detective. No wonder his nickname persisted.
And, Charlie was last to arrive, not pleased with this delay to his meeting with Stephen. He fell into a chair at the head of the table, even Terry was not brave enough to occupy the reserved spot.
“Karen, let’s go. This is your show. We’re all here and ready.” He didn’t mention: it had better be good. She smiled, pleased and confident.
“I promise this is the most exceptional video you’ll ever see. A couple of days ago a cabbie was killed on the north side. The press reported a naked cabbie, but he wasn’t completely naked; his pants were down to his ankles and he had no underwear. The scene becomes a little more bizarre: he used a Velcro type of belt and his fly was also a Velcro construction. Everything a man needs if he wants to get his pants off in a hurry.”
Ter
ry couldn’t resist. “Jesus, I have to find his tailor.”
Charlie wasn’t in the mood. “Terry, first we’ll get a tailor to do your mouth. Damn it. Zip it. We don’t have time for any more bullshit comments. Let’s go.”
Karen restarted. “Next, Forensics revealed a unique car: a multitude of miniature recording devices throughout the interior of the cab. But it was not a taxi. Everything about the cab was fake. They estimated it would take less than 25 minutes to set up. You could go from a regular car to a taxi in about 25 bloody minutes.
This included removable logos on the doors, the lights on the top, the fare box, the works. With the cab as the front, he roamed whatever streets he wanted, not looking out of place and could be selective with his pickups.”
Charlie stopped slouching; he became the first to anticipate where this was going.
“I can’t believe this….son of a bitch. It’s too good to be true.”
Karen nodded, smiled and continued.
“We now have Horny Harry’s last recording, and this isn’t even the unbelievable part. As you watch you’ll see our theory was correct; we have recovered the other records from his home. Yes, this is Horny Harry, and he did record and replay all his conquests.
He stored a complete library at home, but his latest victim will be the biggest shock. This final recording is what the forensic team recovered from his cab. There’s been some editing to make it easier to follow, and it’s not up to the standards of a high-quality porno production but still good. If you’re ready, I’ll start the show. Terry hit the lights…….thanks.”
At first the only sound was the street noise. The quality of the recording was good; as the technicians had told Karen: if you were prepared to spend the money, the software would get the results you want.
Harry intermittently hummed, whistled and talked to himself. Sometimes there would be a good view of him and all his features, but most often, it was the street or the inside of the cab. Karen explained. “We’ve been editing the material to try and present the best overall documentary. There is a multitude of different recording devices, and you can select which views you want to show or merge; the sound is the same regardless of which camera’s view we are using. OK, I’ll turn the sound up.”
The insane voice of a dangerous man rambled on and on, intermingled with of his laughter and rants. There was no doubt he was their man.
“God do I feel good …this’ll be number seven………..lucky seven………I’ll give her my special Laughter and whistling followed I’ve never been so ready… it took too damn long for my hand to heal……have to be more careful……..time to start my documentary.
It was early evening, and he was cruising an area filled with hotels and expensive apartments. Some people were bustling around, but the streets were not crowded; his voice sounded more official as he began his pitch.
This is Horny Harry on the cruise for lover number seven…it’s April 18, 2021, and it’s a warm evening ………………I’m well into a hotel district ………well at least there are a few top hotels in this area ……………..am looking for a mature lover tonight……
The cab turned at the lights; the one camera aimed at the street provided a view of the sidewalk, buildings, and any pedestrians; he passed a few working girls on the corner.
Oh…. oh …look what’s up ahead?........ and it appears she wants to hire a cab………….I knew this was my lucky day ………….God look at that hat ……it’s huge …...the dress is tacky but what the hell ……it won’t matter.
He pulled up and unlocked the back door to let her in; as soon as she closed the door, Harry’s car moved away from the curb. He had a separation barrier between the front and back seat, a sliding window used to communicate with a passenger. Harry opened his jacket and retrieved the dart gun; he pulled over in an isolated spot, opened the separation barrier window and while the woman searched her purse, he shot her.
What’re you doing?……you don’t need a gun I’m not a threat to you …what the hell is the matter with you?..........don’t worry love it’s only a tranquilizer dart and when you wake up you will be in for the ride of your live
He closed the partition window and kept driving and humming, very pleased with the events. The woman tried the doors, a useless exercise, and it only took a short time for the tranquilizer to work.
In a few more minutes and we’ll be in the park …………………God, I’m so smart …..…this one is going to be special.
He drove on and then they were at the far end of Bolton Park, an isolated spot, not a person in sight. Harry parked the cab; he turned off the outside lights, but the cameras were still recording and getting good results.
Harry reloaded his gun with what was assumed to be an antidote (confirmed later). He walked around to the back and opened the door; he lifted the woman off the floor on to the back seat, flipped her on to her stomach, all the time whistling and humming. He lifted her dress and cut off her pants and then dropped his Velcro controlled trousers; with his knife in one hand he slapped the woman on the side of the head a few times.
Come on my beauty it’s time for Horny Harry to introduce you to the finer things in life……good you’re awake……. what I’ve against your neck is rather large knife which I will use to kill you if don’t do exactly what I tell you ……………………just nod your head if you understand …………….that’s good ………..we are going to have fun……………. let’s see what you have to offer
Harry was on top on her and forced her legs apart and reached in.
My God what do we have here? ………a pair of hairy fucking balls! ……… My God, Horny Harry has got himself a transvestite …………..God, I knew I was in luck tonight……..oh God ………….unbelievable………Goddamn this is lucky seven……………what a treat you’re going to have.
Harry bent over to whisper in his victim’s ear, just like the last victim had reported. The routine demanded the victim sing his praises as a lover; he finished his whispering but in his happiness became careless: he released the knife pressure from the victim’s neck and his weight shifted to the rear for a better view of his prize.
His victim well versed in hand to hand combat had enough room to launch a vicious elbow. The blow was so powerful it shattered Harry’s nose. Harry’s screaming and the victim’s yelling filled the room. It was chaos with Harry losing all the initiative and almost choking as his blood filled his throat and mouth.
The victim took advantage: Harry had fallen back and the victim was able to kick him out of the cab. Then he’d been able to recover the knife Harry had dropped, and it soon became apparent that the stranger knew how to fight. They both stood outside the cab; Harry with his trousers around his ankles and almost blind from the blood was at a disadvantage.
Horny Harry nice to meet you … still think this is your lucky day? …now you die, you bastard, die you bastard …die ….you bastard.
The man alternated kicking Harry, hitting him with his fist and using the knife, all the time screaming as he finished Harry. Finally sated he spoke to Harry for the last time.
Harry, you screwed up my appointment at the Marriott, but this was a good diversion …….I enjoyed this ……..maybe I should start going for some variety …………..what do you think?.....no comment ?.....I didn’t think so …..well there is another great hotel a few blocks away from the Marriott …………super rooms and service ….I’ll do it in midweek……what do you think Harry?.....do you approve?
He wiped the knife, dropped it, kicked Harry one more time and walked away, no running just a casual walk.
Karen stopped the recording. “The rest shows the police patrol discovery and our investigating team. As I said unbelievable. Does everyone agree? We’ve a dead Horny Harry, and it appears the Five Star Couple is a few steps closer to being resolved. Did you see the hat on the victim and hear the comments about the hotels?
Wes this has to be your guy, and it’s not a couple. It’s a
guy dressed up as a woman; no wonder the clerk said she had ugly hands.”
Charlie agreed. “This is the best news I’ve had in days. Our Horny Harry cruised the hotel district and picked up our Five Star Couple. It sounds like the Couple was doing some homework and checking out hotels for the next strike.”
Wes waved a photo from the west coast personnel material.
“Look at this guy. When he twisted and elbowed Harry, the camera gave us a great close up; here he is: Jason Reardon. Goddamn it. This is the guy. He was one of three I was preparing to chase this morning.”
“Wes, it looks like your brainstorming assessment was correct: a category four killer; the Anger-Excitation killer. And AE classification system also was accurate; this type is a solo killer.
And, Karen you are also right, this one goes down in the history books. No doubt, our Five Star Couple is only one: Mr. Jason Reardon, who uses a female disguise. This is a clever bastard with false clues and red herrings throughout. I don’t expect he used his real name to license a car or rent an apartment. Wes, I don’t think you will be that lucky.
Your best bet will be to catch him at the hotel.”
Wes was anxious. “There’re only two elite hotels within a few blocks of the Marriott and Jason said he would move midweek. This gives us about 12 to 15 hours to set up and be prepared. With Horny Harry out of the way we have enough manpower to set up 24-hour coverage in both hotels.”
Charlie was ready to leave. “Remember this guy is an ex-cop, very smart and will be able to spot a stake out. I suggest the less the hotel staff knows the better; we don’t want them to spook this guy. We have enough technology to allow long distance monitoring in each hotel. Just make sure you can move in a hurry. I’m sorry I have to run. Wes the operation is all yours.”
And with that he left. His abrupt departure momentarily stunned the room. What the hell was going on? Charlie was walking away from the takedown of one of the most important cases of the year. What was wrong with the guy?