“What’re you doin’ in there?” Jennings called from the other side of the door. “Shitting out a Buick?”
“A Mack Truck,” Wolf retorted. He finished pissing, washed his hands at the sink and stepped back into Jennings’ office.
Jennings held up the band flyer. “Recognize this?”
Wolf saw four emotionless faces—one of them his own—staring out at him from the sheet of paper. Above and behind the portrait, painted on the brick wall of an old burned out building, was a giant, jagged red cross. Wolf winced at the sight of it. He’d never liked the symbol or the circumstances surrounding it. “Yeah, its one of my band’s advertising circulars. So what?”
“Tell me something, Danny. What’s the significance of the cross?”
Wolf shrugged. “Beats me. I hate the fucking thing. It was the band’s trademark long before I joined them.”
“What about the band’s name, Bad Medicine?”
“Told you I don’t know. I’m just a hired hand.”
Jennings sighed. “You know who came up with the cross idea?”
“I heard it was Johnny Redman. The guys said he thought it was cool. Why don’t you ask him about it?”
“You know I can’t do that, don’t you, Danny? Johnny’s dead. Knifed in an alley after a gig one night.”
“Yeah, a shame.”
“Did you know Redman?”
Wolf shook his head.
“You sure about that, Danny?”
“I was in prison when he got murdered.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Wolf was silent in thought for a long moment. “I might have known him years ago when we were both playing the circuit. What’s your point?”
“Just wanted to establish the truth, that’s all. So you did know him?”
“What are you getting at?”
Jennings still held the flier. “Found this yesterday morning at the landfill near the body of the latest victim, along with about a dozen others.”
“What’s it got to do with me?”
“The dead girl had a big cross carved on her. Looked a lot like this one.”
Wolf sat down then, exhaled a weary sigh, and didn’t even try to hide the look of panic on his face. “It’s got nothing to do with me,” he said. “There are a lot of those fliers around. We plaster them all over the place. Cars in mall parking lots, storefronts. We put stacks of them in music and record stores. The landfill must be full of them.”
“Yeah, I figured that,” Jennings said.
“So why are we talking?”
“Because these same fliers were found near the bodies of both victims. You read the papers?”
“Sometimes.”
“Some name the press has given our killer, huh?”
Wolf did not reply.
“Cross my Heart killer. That’s some name,” Jennings said again. His smile was a grim line on his face. “You agree, Danny?”
“What’s your point?”
“The papers, especially one reporter in particular, a woman named Persephone Wilder, is talking about a serial killer in the city of Portland.”
“She’s a sensationalist.”
“Ah, I see you’ve read her work.”
“Work?” Wolf said. “That’s a good one. Why do I care about this?”
“The name Jennifer Colvin mean anything to you?”
“No. Should it?”
“Think back five years to just before you were arrested for murder.”
Wolf thought a minute then shook his head.
“She might have been one of your groupies.”
“There were lots of groupies. I didn’t know most of their names. Why? What’s she got to do with me?”
“Just trying to get to the truth. What do you think about all these goth/vamp chicks running around these days?”
“I think they’re idiots.”
“Both dead girls were goth’s,” Jennings said.
“Yeah, so?”
Jennings pointed at the flier. “Funny how this same cross was carved on both victims. You think the killer was trying to send some sort of message by copying the cross on your band’s flier?”
Wolf shrugged. “How should I know? A cross is a cross.”
“Know who the latest victim is?” Jennings asked.
Wolf said nothing.
“I asked you a question.”
“What is this?” Wolf said, jumping to his feet.
“Sit your ass down, Danny. I’m not accusing you of anything.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Her name was Amy Salinger. You knew her, right?”
Wolf’s body went cold. He offered no reply.
“Just like you knew Janet Owen. Am I right?”
“How the hell do you know that?”
“They were both your groupies, weren’t they?”
“Doesn’t mean I killed them,” Wolf said. “Groupies get around. A hundred other guys knew them, bartenders, bouncers, customers, cops—”
Jennings held his hand up to silence him. “I know that, but there’s one thing you have in common with them both that as far as I can tell no one else does.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“You had...relationships with them, didn’t you?”
Wolf said nothing.
“Talk to me, Danny.”
“Who told you?”
“I had a little chat with the boys in your band and they all said the same thing.”
Wolf’s mind went numb.
“Where were you this afternoon?”
“You know where I was. You had your Gestapo posted out front. Why can’t you just leave me the hell alone?”
“You know why.”
Wolf’s temper flared. “You still think I murdered that guy and killed Siri to keep her from talking. You’re all full of shit, you know that? I loved her. I couldn’t kill her.”
“Where is she then?”
“You’re the detective. You find her.”
To Jennings, Wolf looked pathetic. Like a half drowned puppy. “I want you to tell me,” he said.
“I wish I could,” Wolf said. “You don’t know how much I want to put an end this whole fucking nightmare. Jesus, why don’t you just arrest me if you think I killed her and those other girls.”
“I’d like to, Danny, but I can’t. Not enough physical evidence. But we’re working on it.”
Wolf stared at Jennings.
“So, Danny, how’s it going with the shrink? Getting some stuff off your chest?”
“I don’t know. He’s an asshole. We’re just talking trash.”
Jennings stared.
“I didn’t murder those girls, Jennings.”
“What kind of trash, Danny?”
“Confidential.”
Jennings smiled and held Wolf’s eyes. “We can subpoena his records, you know.”
“So do it.”
“Just talk to me, Danny. You know, I might be the only friend you’ve got.”
“You don’t sound like a friend.”
“Believe me, if I wasn’t you’d be in lockup right now.”
“All right, goddamn it, there’s a lot of shit in my head. I’m having these...dreams.”
“Dreams?”
“Yeah, dreams.”
“What about?”
“Dead people. Monsters. I don’t know, Christ.” Wolf looked up at the ceiling and exhaled a weary sigh.
“Dead people and monsters, huh?”
“Yeah, but I swear to you I didn’t kill those girls. I keep having these dreams... Shit, never mind. You wouldn’t understand. I don’t understand.”
Jennings waited, staring at Wolf.
“Nothing makes sense.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“I’m running and someone’s chasing me... I don’t know, something terrible happened.” Wolf could almost see it, if he just concentrated he might be able to understand if what he’d seen on that long ago night had been real: a dead wo
man with a cross carved on her chest. The urgent sound of bloodhounds. But was it him they were chasing or someone else? Try as he might the only thing he could see clearly was that he’d lost Jennings. Hell, he was just as lost. “There’s this big guy,” he said. “All covered with hair.”
Jennings sat forward with interest. “Is this someone you see in these dreams of yours?”
“It’s more like I’m seeing through his eyes or something. Listen, Jennings, I can’t explain it. I don’t know how all that shit got in my head, and I don’t know how to get it out. It’s driving me fucking crazy.”
“Have you seen this big guy doing anything?”
Wolf thought of the dream where he was carrying a dead girl in his arms, but no way in hell was he going to tell Jennings about that. He shook his head.
“Why don’t I believe you, Danny?”
“Don’t. It’s all I’ve got.”
“What about Siri?”
“What about her.”
“Tell me about her.”
Wolf licked his lips. “I don’t know what to say. I was in love with her and I just can’t seem to get past it. That good enough?”
“Love’s a funny thing, ain’t it, Danny? People do some pretty stupid things for love.”
“I told you, I didn’t kill anybody.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to convince yourself?”
“Am I under arrest?”
“Not yet. You can go, but remember, my men are on you.”
Wolf got up to leave.
“By the way, Danny, our office has received several complaints from residents of your apartment building. They’re hearing noises.”
Wolf remained silent.
“They say it sounds like someone’s being murdered in your apartment. What’s that all about?”
“I told you it’s the dreams,” Wolf said. “I’ve been having them for a long time and I don’t know how to make them stop. Call the prison, they’ll tell you the same thing.”
“Already have. Seems you’ve got some serious shit going on in your head.”
“Can I go now?”
“Sure. But on the other side of that door you’ll find a technician with a cotton swab.”
“What?”
“DNA sample.”
“You’ve already got one.”
“We want another one.”
“Why?”
“Just want to be sure, that’s all.”
“What, you think my DNA changed overnight?”
Jennings grinned.
“Don’t you need a subpoena?”
“Nope. Your ass belongs to the State of Maine.”
Wolf headed for the door.
“Oh, Danny?”
“Yeah.”
“Pleasant dreams.”
Wolf left the office.
PART THREE
LAURA HIGGINS
Chapter 34
After Wolf was gone, Jennings brought the young women in. Her name was Laura Higgins. She was short and built, cute as hell with big green eyes, full lips, medium length auburn hair and freckles on her slightly upturned nose.
“So, what do you think?” Jennings asked.
Laura shrugged. “I couldn’t help but feel sorry for the guy. He looked so pathetic. My gut feeling is he didn’t do it.”
Jennings watched her carefully. “You’re a cop, Laura. You’re supposed to be objective.”
“It was just an initial impression.”
Jennings absently scratched at the stubble on his chin. It made a sound like sandpaper on wood. His small black eyes looked like specks of cinder. “Jesus, what is it with that guy? You haven’t even met him and you’re already on his side.”
“I’m not on his side, Rick. It seems to me that you’ve already made the assumption of guilt. I’m just trying to offer a more intuitive approach. I gave you my initial impression. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Jennings nodded.
“By the way, what happened to his head?”
Jennings sighed. “Not important.”
“Rick!”
“Okay, he had a run-in with one of my men—”
“What? Who?”
Jennings stared.
“Come on, Rick. You know I’ll find out.”
“All right, Christ, his name is Cavanaugh. His wife left him and he’s pissed off.”
“Bastard!” Laura said. “Have you talked to him?”
“He’s a hard-headed son of a bitch.”
“Want me to straighten him out?”
Jennings smiled. He knew that Laura Higgins’s size and looks were deceiving, and that inside her compact little body and behind that pretty face there was a fighter, a kid who never ran from trouble, no matter how big. She was just like her old man—her dead old man—and that was what worried him most. He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake bringing her in on this case. “I want you to stay miles away from my men, Laura. Especially Cavanaugh. I’ll handle him.”
“Rick!”
“He’s my friend. I’ll handle him. Are we clear on that?”
Laura sighed. “Okay, Christ.”
Jennings narrowed his eyes at Laura. “I mean it, Laura.”
“I said okay. So tell me more about Wolf.”
“You read the trial transcripts?”
“Yeah,” Laura said. “And the whole thing smelled.”
“How so?”
“Let’s see if I’ve got this straight,” Laura said. “First, it was a kangaroo court. There was absolutely no evidence that Wolf killed that guy. Everything was hearsay. The bartender said that Wolf and this guy, Shaun Talbot, got in a little tussle after Talbot grabbed Wolf’s girlfriend’s ass. They were both drunk and the bartender told them to take it out back. He testified that they went out into the alley. He also testified that Wolf’s girlfriend, a woman named Siri Donavan went with them. Evidently she was trying to talk Wolf out of fighting with the guy. They never came back in and the bartender forgot about it, or so he testified. An hour later he went out back to empty the trash and found the guy lying next to the dumpster with his skull bashed in. He assumed that Wolf had been responsible. When the cops questioned Wolf about it he admitted that he’d been in a fight with the guy but that he’d been fine when he and his girlfriend Siri had left the alley. When asked where Siri was, evidently Wolf didn’t know. He said she went home with him but that she’d evidently gotten up in the night and left. When asked if this was normal behavior for her he said no. She was never seen again. You guys tried to pin her disappearance on Wolf too but without a body the charges didn’t stick. The only thing I can say is Wolf must be the dumbest son-of-a-bitch in the world because his own testimony put him in the slammer for five years. He didn’t sound like a dumb son-of-a-bitch to me. If he was guilty then why would he say all that self-incriminating shit? Why didn’t he lie about fighting with the guy? Why didn’t he say that Siri got up every night and went home to her own apartment? Duh! From what I can tell by the transcripts he was totally amazed that she’d done such a thing. He was set up, for Christ’s sake.”
“By Siri?”
“Maybe.”
“A better explanation would be that he killed the guy and then killed the girl so that she wouldn’t finger him.” Jennings said.
“You don’t believe that, Rick. He loved that girl. You can tell by the way he talks about her.”
“Men kill women they love all the time. Maybe he’s a good liar.”
“He’s a shitty liar. Something doesn’t add up.”
“All of this came up at the trial,” Jennings said. “And it all came back to Wolf. The jury believed he was guilty.”
“Shit, they didn’t have anybody else to pin it on. Wolf was a convenient scapegoat. Happens all the time. I think he was scammed.”
“By whom?”
“Maybe her.”
“What would be her motive?”
“The fight was over her, wasn’t it? The dead guy was making lewd remarks, he grabbed her
ass and it pissed Wolf off. Maybe she knew the guy. Maybe he had something on her. Maybe they were ex lovers. Maybe she took Wolf home, waited for him to pass out and then went back, found the guy and bashed his head in. Wolf was drunk, after all.”
“We went through that at the trial. More than an hour passed between the time the bartender sent them outside and when he found the body. That would have meant that the guy hung around in the alley all that time? Wolf testified that the guy was okay when he and the woman left. Why didn’t he go home if he was okay?”
“Good question. According to the bartender, he was drunk too. Maybe he passed out after the fight and she found him and then, well...”
“Or maybe Wolf injured him so badly that he just lay down and died. That would make Wolf guilty of manslaughter, which is what he was convicted of. I think the system got it right. I think Wolf fucked up and killed that guy. Maybe not on purpose, but he did kill him. And in my book that’s manslaughter. And he may have committed murder to cover it up.”
“Did you guys ever look at the bartender?”
“Of course we did. He was lily white. Besides he had two bar maids back up every word of his testimony. Wolf killed that guy. Whether he meant to or not doesn’t matter. He killed him.”
“I don’t think so, Rick.”
Jennings cast his eyes reverently toward the ceiling, as if he was searching for divine guidance. “Listen, I can’t figure the guy out. I know he’s smart but he’s acting like the dumbest son-of-a-bitch that ever lived. He’s been acting that way since the trial. It was almost as if he didn’t care if he went to prison. Almost as if he doesn’t care what happens to him now.”
“Maybe he doesn’t.”
“The problem is, we still don’t know what happened to the woman. She dropped off the face of the earth, and now, since he got out of the joint these other girls are being slaughtered and he seems to be the only common denominator.”
“Do you think she’s dead?”
Jennings did not answer her. A fleeting image of what he had seen at the city landfill flashed through his mind. He dismissed it.
Apocalypse Island Page 12