“Sounds like some old-school detective work is in order.” Eva said with a smile.
“Old-school?” Sara asked.
“Paper. Talking to people. Sifting through archives. The kind of detecting we used to do before the magic of computers.”
“The two cases might be unrelated. Or related to me and Johan but not the same killer,” Sara said.
“What do you mean?” Ritchie asked.
“There are no mentions of nitrate films, or snuff films, or actresses in any of Madeleine’s concise files. The only similarities between the girls are their ages and Johan’s interest in the cases.”
“Johan must’ve found some sort of connection for him to go see Madeleine Richards.” Ritchie said.
“I’ll ask him tomorrow,” Eva said, never taking her eyes off of Ritchie’s screens.
“You found him as well? I tracked him down to a holding cell in downtown Los Angeles,” he said to Sara. “That’s why I called you in the first place. You haven’t listened to my message?” Ritchie shook his head at Sara.
Sara flushed. “I didn’t listen to it.”
“I’ve printed out his arrest paperwork for you. In case it’s relevant to what we’re working on,” Ritchie said and handed her several sheets of paper.
“He broke into one of those grand old houses in Angelino Heights. The ones that used to sit on Bunker Hill and got moved in the fifties, the Victorians?” Sara had a vague idea of what he was talking about. “The home was owned by a businessman named Lester Jenkins. He’s, unfortunately, pressing charges.”
“How did he get caught?”
“He didn’t do such a good job of disabling the alarm system. He tripped a hidden alarm ad the police were on the scene within minutes.” Ritchie said.
“He had to be there because of this case,” Sara said. “Why else would he break in?”
“Madeleine Richards was working on this case for years, wasn’t she?” Ritchie asked, glancing at the manila folder.
“Yes.” Sara said.
“And she got killed because of it, didn’t she?” He asked.
“Most likely she did,” Eva said.
They sat quietly for a moment, all eyes riveted on the file.
Ritchie broke the silence. “I forgot to tell you, I found a connection between four of the missing actresses. His name is Daniel Gandrien but he goes by DannyG. He was a headshots photographer like Janice. He happens to live in a warehouse near here. He’s creepy and is into S&M and has tastes that are left of center. Sounds like the perfect suspect, right? I don’t think he does that kind of work anymore but he’s worth a looksee.”
“We’ll pay Danny G a visit then. In the meantime, see if there is anything to dig up on those UCLA girls.”
“Maybe your father found the man who took the UCLA girls and got killed for it. If I was a horrible man, I’d change my MO after that kind of scare. God knows there’s a lot of actresses out here and they are much easier to exploit than UCLA college students.” Ritchie said. Both of them nodded. The scenario sounded plausible.
“I want to run these characteristics through VICAP and see if we get hits in any other states,” Eva said. “I might be able to go convince my former colleagues at the LAPD to help me out with that.”
“We’re going under the assumption that these two sets of disappearances are related?” Ritchie asked.
“Yes, it’s the simplest solution. There are too many coincidences for them to not be related. That film is the key. We find out what’s its purpose is and where it’s been made, we’ll find our UNSUB. The film is his mistake. That’s why Madeleine was killed. The film was the missing link.” Eva said.
“So what do we do next?” Sara asked, worried that Eva was leaving her behind.
“We check out Danny G. He’s in the neighborhood and we’ll be able to cross him off the list if he turns out clean. Most people who are deviant in their regular life won’t need to be so deviant in their private life.” Sara stared at her not fully understanding her intention. Eva noticed.
“What I mean is, if you’re getting your kicks already then there’s no need to be killing and maiming women. Most serial killers are normal-looking people who are repressed in some way. I’m making a major generalization, I know, but if you study the prolific serial killers, they wore a mask of normalcy for the public. In private, they became monsters. If DannyG is deep in the sado-masochist scene, he’s getting his release from playacting. He wouldn’t need to go any further.” Eva explained.
“I see,” Sara said. They both got up to go.
“Good luck,” Ritchie said and turned back to the computers.
17
Sara, per Eva’s insistence, had called ahead to make sure DannyG was home. When no one answered, and they found the place dark, Eva peaked inside. She set to work on the lock on DannyG’s door and it opened in seconds. They both slipped inside before anybody asked questions. Eva flicked on a strong flashlight and the beam revealed velvet, and a lot of it.
Black velvet curtains hung along the large windows to their left and all of his furniture was made out of red velvet. In a corner of the massive loft-like space was a wheel with cuffs for ankles and wrists as well as assorted torture devices that S&M practitioners used to ply their pleasure.
Sara couldn’t help but whistle. “I’ve never seen so much leather, chains, and whips in one place,”
“The man is serious about his pain,” Eva nodded.
They walked deeper into the space and passed a little altar filled with scrolls, black candle wax and colorful figurines.
“That’s an altar for Dias De La Muerta. The goddess of the dead. It’s a Mexican myth that a lot of gang members have adopted but I doubt DannyG was a Mexican gangster.”
“Maybe it goes with his... other interests?” Sara asked. “Does the goddess of death have anything to do with demons?”
Eva shook her head. “No. She’s more of a saint than a God. I confuse the mythologies sometimes.” They headed towards several doors at the back of the loft space. Eva opened one to show a bathroom decked out in all gold. The next room was a small kitchenette that looked barely used. DannyG apparently didn’t cook. The last door on the right opened to a dark room. Eva flicked on the switch and red light bathed the room.
“A dark room. I haven’t smelled developing chemicals since college. Takes me back.” Sara didn’t get it and Eva noticed. “Most photographers went digital. No need for the old processes,” Eva said, smiling.
“Could this be our guy? I mean, he obviously knows about film developing,” Sara said, her pulse quickening.
“Nitrate films are ancient. Him having a darkroom doesn’t mean much. All photographers of a certain age know how to develop film. I’m not sure how much of a clue that is.” Eva said and walked over to the drying photos. She leaned in, studying them. Sara followed suit. Musicians and performers stared back at them.
“These are definitely not headshots,” Eva said.
“Are these circus performers? Cirque de Soleil, maybe? They look more Burning Man than that, though,” Sara thought out loud.
“What’s Burning Man?” Eva asked.
“A hippy, punk, uh, drug-fueled art and music festival in the desert. I suppose as an LAPD officer, you wouldn’t know about that sort of thing.”
“I guess not,” Eva said. “But I’m not a police officer anymore. I should check it out next year,” she said and Sara guffawed. She clamped her hand over her mouth.
“Sorry, about that. Couldn’t help it,” Sara said. Eva gave her a look and turned away.
“I’m not sure what I was expecting. A kill room in the middle of his living room? After the last couple of cases...”
“We’d get lucky this early on? Nah, never happens. There are still too many pieces missing.” Eva said. “Ritchie found no other buildings under his name, did he?”
“No. This was the only building that Danny G owns. Ritchie also checked rentals but came up empty.”
�
�The killer is too meticulous to use a rental. He’s been working for fifteen years and he’s never been caught. The connection between the missing women went undiscovered for a long time. Even now, the police feel these women just slipped through the cracks of society. Our UNSUB is devious, meticulous and, worst of all, patient. We’re dealing with a real monster here and I think it would be foolhardy of us to underestimate him. I wouldn’t be surprised if we were already under his surveillance.” Eva said. A chill ran down Sara’s spine.
“He’s stalking us?”
“I’m sure of it. He killed both Madeleine Richards and Janice Hollebeck and the police still haven’t put that together. He’s tying up loose ends. We are some loose ends. We are the only ones that know about the film. The detectives aren’t taking into account the other women’s disappearances. You left the crime scene so they can’t connect the two murders. You’re the common link right now.”
“I had to do that,” Sara said.
“No, you didn’t. You were protecting Johan, and you broke the law.” Sara paled at that.
“How?”
“You left the scene of the crime. You had the two other witnesses lie and now, I’m being forced to lie to protect you. I didn’t sign up for this. You’ve put me in a difficult position by your negligence. On top of that, you don’t comprehend fully what we’re dealing with. At least the Jerry Killer was on everyone’s radar. This guy is on no one’s radar and he’s been disappearing women for decades. I don’t even know if the police would believe me if I told them. If you aren’t scared, then you should be. I’m terrified and wish I’d stayed with my insurance cases.”
Sara looked around the loft. “This isn’t our guy, is it?”
“No, DannyG isn’t but maybe he can explain how Janice got those film reels. They were friends, apparently.”
“Is that why you told me to leave this be?” Sara said. “The case, I mean. Why did you even take this on?”
“I didn’t want your death on my conscience. The police should be investigating this but instead a ragtag team of amateurs led by a disgraced cop is leading the charge. This is madness. I’m afraid one of us isn’t going to make it through this one.” Eva clicked off the lamp, and the loft plunged back into darkness.
“I’ve seen enough here. We can wait for DannyG in the car.” Eva walked to the front door, Sara right behind her.
Eva’s words rebounded in her head and she shivered. He was watching them. He would know the moves they made. “What have you gotten me into, Johan?” Sara whispered into the darkness. It was one thing to chase a demon but another to hunt down a serial killer. She had barely made it out alive after her first encounter with one why did she think she could take on another
Sara pictured the woman’s face from the film and panic seized her. Breathe, just breathe, Sara thought as claustrophobia threatened to undo her.
They didn’t wait long before DannyG appeared with a girl on his arm. Eva was out the door before Sara could ask her how they would approach him. Sara got out of the passenger seat just as Eva blocked DannyG from getting to his front door.
The woman with DannyG was giggly and obviously drunk but he was fully in control of himself and the situation. On seeing the man, Sara wasn’t sure of Eva Murphy’s reading of him. She could tell he was bright and liked control. He was a dominating man, tall with jet-black hair cut short. He wore no eyeliner and his face seemed naturally pale. Sara wondered if he used makeup to create the effect. He wore silver rings on every single finger and wore a black trench coat.
“May I help you?” He asked in a deep baritone voice.
“I would love to ask you some questions about your time as a headshot photographer,” Eva said.
“It’s been a number of years since I did that. I don’t really know how I can help you.” He said and the girl next to him gave a small burp. “Excuse my friend. She’s a little tipsy. We’ve been drinking most of the day.” The man didn’t sound drunk at all, Sara thought.
“Could we talk inside?” Eva asked.
“Are you the cops?” He asked.
“No, we’re private detectives and are investigating a series of missing girls.” Sara said. Eva stepped on her foot hard and Sara knew she’d made a mistake.
“How did you get my name?”
“You photographed four of the girls six months preceding their disappearances.” Eva explained.
“No way I will remember them. I was doing a lot of heavy drugs back then and I have major memory gaps.” DannyG said.
“May we talk inside?” Eva persisted.
“No. I have time tomorrow though,” he said as he heaved the drunken girl up under his arm.
“We need to speak to you tonight.”
“If you’re asking me about actresses that I shot headshots for then that’s over ten years ago. Did these girls disappear back then? If so, they can wait another night.” He shoved past Eva, opened the door and pushed the girl inside.
“Come back tomorrow. I’ll look through my files to see what I can find.” DannyG said and slammed the door. Sara opened her mouth to say something but Eva shook her head.
“Not now,” she said and stalked back to the car. Sara’s shoulders slumped. It would be a long night.
18
Lorelei Richards read over her mother’s journal entry one more time and couldn’t believe her eyes. The answer to who her father was had been in the journal the entire time. His identity was a mystery all of her life. Lorelei never agreed with her mother’s decision of keeping him away from her all of these years.
Her mother had to know someone was coming for her. The journal entry was at the beginning of the file. Her mother put it there for her to see in the last several months as Lorelei had been in and out of that file for years. Maybe it was her way of apologizing for all those years she kept her father from her.
Lorelei picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. Mark had finally left after hours of hovering around her and she was relieved to see him go. He didn’t understand her fury. She was devastated as any daughter would be over her mother’s death but her front and center emotion was anger. Anger at what the killer had taken away from her.
After the years her mother had put into searching for the missing girls, her own murder was the last straw for Lorelei. She had hoped that Sara and her partner Eva would’ve let her help them but they just saw her as the victim’s daughter, bereaved and full of pain.
But that’s not what Lorelei was right now. She wanted vengeance.
She wanted answers and a way to feed the rage.
Lorelei would start with some answers. She relished the sight of his name. Her father revealed. Lorelei dialed the number written under his name.
A man’s voice answered.
“You don’t know me but you knew my mother. Madeleine Richards?”
“Yes, I knew Madeleine.”
“She died today, and I found your name in her papers. I’d like to meet with you.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that she’s passed. May I ask how she died?”
“She was murdered.” Lorelei said and swallowed down another sob.
“I’m so very sorry Lorelei. I am. She meant so much to me.”
“I’m glad to hear that. You can imagine how important this call is to me.”
“I’ve been expecting this phone call for a long time,” the man said. Lorelei fought the urge to ask him if he was happy to hear from her. She was not about to sound pathetic and needy. She mustered up all her anger and gained strength from it.
“You’re the only family I have left.”
“I’m not family yet. But, I’d love to meet you. I’m surprised your mother left my name for you to find.”
“You knew of me?”
“Of course. But your mother chose to keep you away from me and I respected her wishes.”
“Can we meet tonight?” Lorelei said and put the wine down.
“Why don’t we meet somewhere public? Do you know of Intelligentsia
? It’s the coffee shop at Sunset Junction in Silverlake?” Lorelei smiled. She knew the coffee shop well.
“I do. I can meet you there in an hour,” she said.
“I’ll be there. This has been a long time coming, Lorelei,” he said and Lorelei couldn’t help but smile.
“Can I call you Robert or? How will I know who you are,” Lorelei remembered to ask.
“I know what you look like. I’ll find you. And please call me Robert. Calling me dad may be a bit premature.” Lorelei’s eyes welled up with tears.
19
“Mark, I understand you’re worried about me. I’m drinking a glass of wine, I will take a hot bath and go to sleep,” Lorelei said as she parked. She’d gotten lucky finding a parking spot right outside of the busy coffee shop. The place teemed with screenwriters and other artists during the day and the metered parking was a joke. She loved the coffee though. She muted him as the car beeped off.
“I love you, Mark. Thank you for standing by me through this,” Lorelei said.
“I love you too, Lorelei. Call me if you need anything. Doesn’t matter what time. I’ll be there in a second.” Mark said.
“I’ll do that.” Lorelei said and hung up the phone. She hated lying to him but felt it was necessary. He wouldn’t understand and would try to stop her. She also didn’t want to dishonor her mother’s memory by sharing the secret of her paternity.
Friends and family had considered Sydney Richards Lorelei’s father. Her mother confessed her indiscretion to Lorelei after Sydney had passed and Lorelei wasn’t ready to share this secret with anyone yet. Not before she met the man.
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