The Killing Collective

by Gary Starta

  Alison had been waiting to hear someone say that to her for a lifetime. “Sure, Clara, we’ll help you. It’s going to be all right.”

  “So what happens now?”

  “Call her so she knows you’re still alive. Ask her to meet you somewhere private so you can talk things over. Tell her you want to apologize. If she shows up, we’ll make sure the cops catch her. Eliza knows she hired the Silver Man to kill you. That ought to be enough to get an investigation going. If a new killer shows up instead, the cops will catch him in the act. First, though, Michael is downstairs in Eliza’s car. He wants us to help him steal the killing drug. If we take away the drug, we take away the Silver Man’s assassins. We’ll leave just enough there to get him caught with it.”

  “Who is Michael?”

  “He was the first one to realize he’d been drugged and where and when. He remembered who he was sent to kill. Then he found me and Eliza, and we found you. Right, Eliza?”

  ***

  Eliza just kept staring straight ahead with those cold, dead shark’s eyes. She was thinking about the killing drug and about Clara’s thinly veiled request to help her commit a murder of her own.

  I understand that one, all right. She never once mentioned speaking to the police. What she wants is to get to that girl before she gets to her. As long as she helps us get the drugs, I’ll play along, but I’m not lifting a finger for Clara. If Alison is so hot to make a friend, let her learn the hard way that there’s no such thing.

  “You got any whiskey?”

  Clara shook her head. She looked fresh as a daisy now that Alison promised to help her. “Nope. I never keep it around. Too many calories can ruin your figure, you know.”

  Eliza snorted. “Right, like that’s your biggest worry right now. I’m going out to meet Michael and get a bottle. We’ll come back and wait for you both in the car. Alison, tell her all about Michael and why he’s going down once he helps us get the drug.” She left without another word.

  “What did she mean by that?” Alison bit at her lower lip in response to Clara’s inquiry.

  ***

  “Oooooo! Zabar’s! Ah could eat my way through there from one end to the other and still want more.”

  Carter and Deeprose were driving up West 59th Street in an unmarked car. “You and Jill would have a ball together.”

  “What makes you say that, sir?”

  “Same appetite for life.”

  “She invited me to go to a blues bar with y’all after work someday soon. She says we need to play a little more.”

  “Looks like you made a conquest.”

  Deeprose answered nonchalantly. “Oh, it was nothin’, sir. I owed her an apology anyway, so I bought her a coffee with lots of chocolate in it, ate a little crow and asked her a whole lotta questions Ah already knew the answers to.”

  Carter shot her a surprised look and then back at the road.

  I tried that once, and she knew I was full of it in one minute. How’d Deeprose manage it? .

  He scanned the sidewalks as he drove. The out-of-body sensation he experienced before a shootout began to overwhelm him, but he didn’t want to alert her to it.

  Breathe slowly…in through the nose. Hold it for one, two, three, four, and five. Out through pursed lips, one, two, three, four, and five. Again…

  ***

  Deeprose pointed at an electronic billboard. “Hey, there’s an ad for the Cloisters. Ah wonder if the killer got his idea from that billboard. Sir, Ah appreciate your backin’ me up after Ah pulled that boner with the deputy director.”

  “I always have my partners’ back.” Carter peered back at the billboard in the rearview mirror. It had changed to an ad for Bustan’s. The idea that a billboard or some other kind of suggestion could have prompted a murder stayed on his mind.

  A few blocks ahead Carter slammed on his brakes and pointed at his rearview mirror. A man with dark hair rested against the front of a liquor store. “There he is!”

  Deeprose shot out of the car. Carter was stuck in a traffic jam but he put on his siren, called for back-up, and said a prayer for patience as he crawled along after her.

  She sprinted toward the suspect who bolted in the opposite direction. Carter forced himself to remain tethered to the vehicle despite his concern for Deeprose. Horns blared at Carter from all sides.

  They’re honking at me! Unbelievable!

  The suspect ran across the street about two hundred feet behind him. Deeprose attempted to cross the street but was stopped by a passing car. She reached for her weapon. Carter beeped his horn to distract her. Firing a weapon on a crowded street was against protocol. In the moment it took to honk his horn and get Deeprose’s attention, the suspect disappeared from sight.

  He might have gone into a building or store. He might have even gotten into a…

  Carter opened the window and shouted to the rookie. “He’s in that parked car! Shoot the tires if you can! Back-up’s on the way.”

  Deeprose zig-zagged across the street and took cover behind the bumper of the car parked in front of her suspect. She sat tight and waited for him to make his move.

  Carter turned on the car’s loud speaker. “F.B.I.! Move out of the way! F.B.I.! Move! Now!!”

  These people wouldn’t move for an ambulance carrying their own grandmother to the hospital!

  Carter made an executive decision. He gripped the wheel and drove up onto the sidewalk, vaguely aware of screaming men, women, and children running into shops and scrambling to take cover in doorways. Carter yelled into his car radio, “Where’s my back-up?! Block off 10th Avenue between 40th and 72nd in all directions!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  An Hour Earlier…

  Eliza found her car empty. She looked around and saw Michael standing outside a liquor store watching people go by. He spotted her just as Deeprose dug in behind the bumper of a parked car, waiting for his next move. A second later he darted across the street, catapulting himself into Eliza’s car. He shouted, “Get in!” and jammed the keys into the ignition.

  With no time to think, Eliza simply did as she was told. She heard the click of the door lock as soon as she got in.

  He threw a vial under the car seat before slamming the car into reverse and crashing into a front fender. The car leaped forward again smashing a back bumper. “Shit!” It was the only way to get the car out of its parking spot. No one blinked an eye.

  Eliza’s head flew forward and hit the dashboard. “What the f-”

  As her car flew back and forth over and over again, she was shocked into silence. She hadn’t gotten a chance to put on her seat belt and the constant bucking threw her around like a ragdoll. She wrenched the passenger door handle to jump out, but it wouldn’t budge. “Unlock this door!”

  The car finally jerked free, but not without burning a long, black line onto the road. Michael threw the car into 5th gear.

  “No, Michael! Stop! There’s a police officer right in front of us! You’ll get us killed!”

  “Shut up! I can’t get caught now. I found a vial backstage the other night and took it before I found out what it was. If they find it on me, I’m a dead man. It’s under the seat, so hang on to something and keep your mouth shut.”

  The gear engaged just as a huge Ford 4X4 crushed the trunk like an empty soda can. It was an unmarked police vehicle.

  “Screw you!” Michael roared.

  “Michael! There’s nowhere to go! Stop!” Eliza screamed, holding onto the dashboard and the car door for support.

  A voice on a loud speaker demanded Michael stop his car. “We’re going for it.” He gunned the engine again, but the weight of the Ford on the trunk held them back. The tires spun uselessly. “O.K., you wanna play? Let’s play!” He slammed into reverse, pushing the Ford backwards and into a parked vehicle. It reared up, freeing the trunk. Michael raced forward again.

  Eliza began to think about what she was going to say and do when Michael was finally caught.

  I’m not going
down with him. I had no idea he took a vial of that stuff. It’s my car, but he’s driving. I’ll say he grabbed me, took my keys and threw me in the car when he saw that cop chasing him.

  Something swooped over the hood of the car and landed on it. Hard. The windshield was half covered with what looked like a black blanket. Eliza screamed, “What the hell is that?!”

  “Goddamned sonofab…” Michael slammed on the brakes but the giant blob on the hood couldn’t be thrown off. Whatever it was, it was used to riding bulls.

  “Stop the fucking car, Michael! Stop the car!”

  Michael’s right hand connected with her left cheek. Eliza’s head flew into the passenger side window and ricocheted back off it. She was bloody but calm. This was just what she needed. Eliza heard the roar of a large engine and braced herself.

  A nearby hotdog stand was suddenly flooded with customers. Everyone could see what was about to happen and those closest to the vendor were buying food and soft drinks to watch the show live and in relative comfort. A large utility truck was approaching the intersection from a side street. Crowds of people murmured, Oh my God!, but continued eating and watching.

  A woman holding an infant screamed, “Stop! Stop! You’re going to hit him!” Michael was momentarily distracted by her, and that was the precise moment the truck slammed into them. The thunderous impact of metal screeching and scraping against metal could be seen on the face of every onlooker, but the momentary shock passed, and in relative silence, the crowd disbursed. The show was over.

  The blob with hands finally tumbled off the hood of the car. Michael shook off the impact and threw open his car door, ready to run. Eliza didn’t fare as well. She came close to being crushed to death. She was surrounded by metal on all sides and wasn’t going anywhere.

  A woman in a black jumpsuit flashed a badge at Michael and ordered him to stop. Michael charged. She waited until he was almost on top of her and then stuck out her foot and tripped him. “Down on the ground. Now! Hands behind your back.”

  Michael hesitated.

  “Don’t even think about it! Ah’m an excellent shot, mister, and Ah will not hesitate to shoot you.”

  Even Michael could see the game was up. He laid down in the road on his stomach.

  “What the hell were you chasing me for? I didn’t do anything!”

  The agent kneeled to place handcuffs around the suspect’s wrists. “You disobeyed several orders to stop, and y’all nearly killed me with your car. I thought you mighta stopped with a human bein’ ridin’ on your hood, but Ah see now that was wishful thinkin’.” The agent sighed.

  Eliza’s heart jumped up into her throat. She decided it was a good time to play the victim card. “Officer! Help me! This man kidnapped me in my own car! Look what he did to my face! Look what he did to my car!” Eliza projected her voice so she’d be heard by as many witnesses as possible.

  A man rapped at her window. He wore a badge on his belt and was dressed in a rich, chocolate brown suit. Eliza gazed into the man’s brown eyes and was sure he would believe her story. It was her word against Michael’s, and after all, he was a killer.

  “Are you hurt? Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”

  She nodded, tears streaming down her bloody, swollen face.

  Two uniformed officers dragged Michael to his feet. His mouth was bleeding from the impact of his fall. Agent Deeprose addressed the officers. “Please read the suspect his rights. He’s a suspect in two murders. We don’t want any technical slip-ups on this one.”

  “How’d you hang on to the hood like that?” Carter was in awe.

  Deeprose removed a stray strand of black hair from her eyes. “The windshield wipers! That was better than ten carnival rides put together.”

  Eliza knew both their names by now. It took a few hours to cut her free of the metal twisted all around her. She remained quiet, listening to as much of their conversation as she could hear.

  Carter squinted. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. Now that’s what I call tenacious!”

  Carter turned to the ambulance crew. “Let me know if they decide to keep her at Columbia Presbyterian for testing or observation. She’ll need stitches and she’s pretty banged up. I want to know if she was sexually assaulted. We’ll question her after she’s been treated and calms down a little.”

  “Agent Deeprose, what made you do a crazy thing like that in the first place?”

  “Ah wanted him to think Ah lost him in the crowd, so Ah walked up the street while he was fumblin’ with the vehicle. Ah noticed a lovely display of shawls, and well, Ah sorta borrowed one. Ah figured if I tossed it over the windshield and held it there, he’d have to stop. Ah wanna reward that vendor, sir.”

  “Agent Deeprose, I’m going to make sure the expense is covered by the Bureau. That was really something. Not one fatality or major injury. You threw a simple, black shawl over the windshield and blinded him while you were perfectly safe and having the time of your life. They’re going to love this at the academy. Who would ever think of such a thing?”

  “Ah would, sir.” Deeprose beamed with pleasure.

  Carter noticed a billboard ad for winter coats. “And a brand new winter coat for you is on me.”

  ***

  “What is this all about?” Michael slammed his cuffed wrists on the interrogation table.

  Carter used meditation to face rage without becoming enraged himself, but all he ever managed was a veneer of calm. Everything else was swallowed and stored away. Essentially, he put on a very good show. “Such negative energy! Calm down, Michael, that won’t work here. Care to give us your last name?”

  Michael stared straight ahead.

  “We’ve had a look at your possessions. It doesn’t appear you were carrying a license.”

  Michael shrugged. “I must have lost it.”

  Carter looked at Michael head on. “I’m here to make a bad situation better. Help me, and I’ll help you.”

  “I told you. You have the wrong man.”

  “You were ordered to stop, but you tried to run. Why did you do that if we have the wrong man?”

  Carter folded his hands and leaned forward. “You’re in trouble, Michael. If there are others involved, give me their names. If you can give me a solid lead, I can help you get out of this. I can protect you, Michael. You don’t have to be afraid. Just give me the names.” The agent peered underneath the table to glance at Michael’s sneakers. “Hey! Nice Stridewells. Expensive, too. You know, you can’t buy those babies just anywhere. Michael, if we have the wrong man, do you mind if I borrow a little of that blood on your shirt to prove it?”

  Michael exploded. “Take all the fucking blood you want! I’m not the guy in the video!”

  “Video? What video?’

  “The video that was taken from the museum!”

  “Oh, that video! See, it’s very interesting that you mentioned that, Michael, because that information was never leaked to the press. You never saw it the papers, but you saw it on the way out of the museum, didn’t you? Sure, you did. But it was too late to go back for it. Here’s what I think: I think you visited a museum called the Cloisters a few days ago; I think you took two husbands away from their wives; and I think you should help me understand why.”

  Carter smiled. “No answer? O.K. If you prefer to remain silent, it’ll be for a very long time. A vial of clear liquid was found under the driver’s seat of the car. The owner told us she saw you put it there when you jumped in. Our lab is analyzing it now. The F.B.I. lab, Michael. Let me clue you in a little; you stumbled into something huge. Much too big for you to handle on your own, but you went for it, anyway. Now, you’re a part of this investigation whether you like it or not, because this is a federal investigation, son, not a local one. Something else to consider…whoever you ripped off is going to get to you no matter where you are. So what’s in the vial, Michael, and where’d you get it?”

  “It’s hers. It was in her car when I got in it. She’s lying.” M
ichael raised his chained hands. “Test my blood. You’ll see.”

  “Ah! So it’s a drug. Thank you, Michael. I appreciate the information. Does it have a name? What’s it for? Where’d you get it?”

  Carter sighed. “More silence? Michael, just because a drug is not inside you doesn’t mean you can wiggle out of possession. I have you on kidnapping, assault and battery, resisting a federal officer, possession of a stolen car, possession of that chemical, and on suspicion of two murders. Testing your blood to see if you ingested the chemical is of no interest to me whatsoever. I’m not looking for a drug dealer, Michael, unless he’s also a killer. Maybe you’re him. Maybe you’re not. Maybe the real culprit put you up to it. Unless you talk to me, I’ll never know.

  “Still not talking. All right, if it’s the last nails in the coffin you need to see before you decide to save yourself, I’ll show you two. Your Stridewells are a perfect match for a bloody shoe print left at the scene of a double homicide. That was not very smart of you, was it? We traced the brand and model to a store just around the corner from where you live. The size of the shoeprint matches yours. We’re going to search your apartment and find them, but we really don’t need to. You see, you left blood on those sneakers and if we can match yours to the bloody prints, you’re done. You can’t fight forensic evidence, Michael. It’s impossible.

  “It might also interest you to know we recovered D.N.A. and finger prints from a glove you left behind. A blood sample from you would pretty much close the case. So, I’ll take you up on your offer to provide us with a blood sample. We’re closing in on you, Michael, and when we do, we’ll have justice for those dead men and their widows. If there were other people behind it, Michael, you shouldn’t throw yourself into the fire for them. Why don’t you get rid of all that bad karma and tell me who’s really behind those museum murders? I know full well you don’t have the brains it takes to be a professional killer, but you know who does.”

  “Back off, Buddha. I want a lawyer.”

  “Certainly; that’s your right. As long as you understand that once I walk out that door and you lawyer up, there won’t be any more deals. The way things stand now, your goose is cooked. I don’t understand your silence, Michael. The evidence is piling up against you, and yet you refuse to defend yourself. No lawyer can save you if you take a vow of silence.”