Detective Tumbler and the Man in Brown (Detective Tumbler Trilogy Book 2)

by Jason Balistreri

  Jackson Addler, on the other hand, had nearly unlimited resources at his disposal, Marshall had tracked his movement to New York City, Los Angeles, and Chicago, in each city he used a different name, his bank records were under Jonathan Whitner, there were no clear ties to Carmen either. Jackson Addler or Jonathan Whitner liked to hire escorts, he frequented five-star restaurants, was active in elite social circles in all three cities yet in Kansas City he laid low. Cases of unsolved dead escorts existed in each city yet Marshall had no way to tie Jackson to any of them. He would need the resources at Spoiler’s disposal but he knew what he was looking for and he knew that Spoiler would continue to give him access as long as he needed it.

  “Detective Tumbler, now aren’t you a pleasant sight in the morning,” Regina says as Marshall hands his gun over.

  “I’m sure I could find people who would disagree with that assessment,” Marshall replies.

  “I would say I would hate to meet those people.”

  “How are you doing?”

  “Just getting older, the crazies keep on coming; I’m the only one that changes.”

  “Change is a difficult thing.”

  “Oh, I know, I’ve got wrinkles on nearly every part of me; most of them on account of my son who still won’t leave the house.”

  “How old is he now?”

  “He’s twenty-three. They say kick them out when they’re eighteen but he’s my baby, I just need him to grow the fuck up and get a job. Excuse me, I don’t mean to be so blunt, he’s my baby but he’s aging me.”

  “You could still pass for thirty,” Marshall assures her.

  “You think so? Well, that’s kind of you. I’m assuming you’re here to see Spoiler, why he gets here so early, I’ll never know. Jack, you have a visitor,” she yells out. Jack comes out to greet Marshall.

  “We’ll talk before I leave,” Marshall tells Regina.

  “I look forward to it,” Regina replies. Jack leads Marshall back to his desk.

  “I’ll get you a cup of coffee,” Jack says.

  “Make sure you add some sugar,” Marshall requests.

  “I know how you take your coffee,” Jack replies. Marshall inspects Spoiler’s cubicle, he sees phone numbers tacked to the wall, he looks at his calendar, he inspects the dates that are circled; he looks at the pictures on Spoiler’s desk, a case he’s been working on. “So what are you working on?” Jack asks as he returns.

  “This stays between the two of us?” Marshall asks for verification.

  “Of course it does, there’s no one here.”

  “I know that but you can’t tell anyone else what I’m working on either.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Do you remember the man in brown?”

  “Yes, I remember him. He went by Frederick Fiord, left behind those wooden dolls and that creepy letter.”

  “I have reason to believe he’s still alive and was active up until a year ago.”

  “You’d have more luck finding evidence of Bigfoot.”

  “The man in brown is real, you know this.”

  “This is the same man that you kept searching for, going out to the woods over and over again, did you ever find him?”

  “No, but I can tell you why.”

  “Continue, I want to hear this.”

  “He left the city after we nearly caught him.”

  “Nearly caught him? He was gone before we got to that cabin, leaving those psycho followers behind.”

  “I found his M.O. There have been unsolved murders all across Missouri, all share a similar theme. Victims were dismembered, killed by groups of people, few of the murders were solved, none of the arrested were willing to give up the man in brown, but I believe he was behind all of these murders.”

  “So he’s a killer that lets other people do the killing for him. What does he get out of it?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I keep thinking back to the Maenads.”

  “Mythology?”

  “Yes, the Maenads were the followers of Dionysus or Bacchus, if you prefer his Roman name. They would get drunk on wine and thrown into a frenzy, then they would rip people to pieces. Dionysus himself was ripped to pieces and returned. Sometimes they would kill animals, all in the same fashion.”

  “But there has to be a motive.”

  “There does, that part I’m not sure about yet.”

  “What about the other case?”

  “The other one will prove to be even more problematic.”

  “How so?”

  “Jackson Addler, also goes by Jonathan Whitner among another dozen aliases, has been involved in the murder of escorts.”

  “Escorts are hired out by their handlers. All you need is to obtain a client list.”

  “Spoken like a man who knows his way around paid sex.”

  “That was all in the past.”

  “It’s not that easy, he prefers large cities and uses different aliases interchangeably. He also has not been active lately. I suspect there are other unsolved murders in Chicago, Los Angeles, and New York that are his handiwork, he doesn’t just kill escorts. There was misinformation on both men, Carmen told me that both of them were dead, he didn’t mention them by name but he thought he was the last of them.”

  “Then who was the first?”

  “Paul Parrotta, they’re all tied together but the question is how? All had an interest in the occult to some extent, maybe just a passing interest, and they all knew each other at one point, there must be a link that binds them all together. If Carmen thought they were dead, then what purpose would that serve?”

  “Perhaps they had a falling out, or they didn’t trust him considering his background, not to mention that we nabbed Parrotta and if he was one of them…”

  “Maybe they lost confidence in Carmen’s ability to keep them safe.”

  “You have access to his files after he left the force. I’m assuming you want to look at his files while he was here?”

  “Yes, I also want to look at the evidence we took from the man in brown’s cabin and I want DNA analysis on those robes we found at Parrotta’s bazaar.”

  “I can get you into the evidence room; I’ll order the DNA analysis.”

  Spoiler finds the box with the personal belongings of the man in brown down in archives, Marshall looks at the figures again, the one that looks like him, the four in red robes, he looks at the letter and reads it again, it gives him the chills, Marshall remembers going out to the forest looking for Frederick, he remembers the time when his chest tightened up for no reason and he felt like someone was watching him. Marshall looks through Carmen’s files, he drinks his coffee, he pulls three of the files out after inspecting their contents. “Interesting,” Marshall remarks.

  “What did you find?”

  “Three cases Carmen was assigned, all three unsolved. Do you remember the little girl that was never identified; all that was found was her head?”

  “Yes, that case still remains unsolved, it’s cold now.”

  “That case was high profile, why would it have been handed to Carmen?”

  “That’s the captain’s call.”

  “He did just enough work to make it look like he was busy.”

  “You think that he was covering for the man in brown?”

  “Yes, but that’s not all. These other two cases, both are dead escorts; both women were found in barrels outside of rest stops. All blood was drained from their bodies, the coroner stated that both victims had been tied up, each had the exact same marks, from the looks of it, it would seem they were each put into a harness before they were killed. Incisions were made to the throat, wrists, and thighs. Each victim was missing her ring finger at the second knuckle down. Neither woman had DNA from another party on them, no sign of sexual violence. Each woman had her liver removed. The victims didn’t know each other and they weren’t hired out by the same service. He had a suspect but no arrest was made.”

  “Who was the suspect?”

  “A Tyler David
son, I’ll have to see if he had any priors.”

  “I can look it up real quick, Tyler Davidson, arrested for soliciting a prostitute and a DWI.”

  “Carmen wanted to frame him for the murders.”

  “Yet he never arrested him.”

  “Sounds like a man I need to talk to. I’m going to need copies of these files and I need Frederick Fiord’s belongings.”

  “I’ll make copies of the files for you but you know I can’t let evidence leave the precinct.”

  “You honestly think anyone else wants to look at any of this?”

  “That’s not the point. I could get in trouble. Take pictures of whatever you want but you can’t take any evidence with you. I’ll get copies of the files for you.”

  “Thankfully I brought my camera,” Marshall says as he takes photographs of the personal belongings of Frederick Fiord.

  “Here are copies of the case files. That little girl, her head wasn’t found anywhere near that cabin. No one ever even identified her.”

  “I know. I’ll figure out who she was. I need you to do me a favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Any unsolved cases involving dismemberment, could you compile them for me?”

  “Marshall, I’ve got my own caseload to work,” Spoiler responds, he turns away. Then he turns back and says, “Sure, I can put some files together, just give me a little bit of time.”

  “Just call me when they’re ready. I’ve got enough to keep me occupied.” Marshall finishes his coffee. “I almost forgot, do you remember a Chester Swanson?”

  “The name sounds familiar.”

  “Let’s pull him up,’ Marshall suggests.

  “No felonies, just a misdemeanor possession.”

  “I didn’t think so, I recognized him though. I just couldn’t place his face until recently. He was in a gang on the West side.”

  “Why’d you ask about him?”

  “He works in the district attorney’s office. I knew his face from somewhere and I figured out where.”

  “Why are you concerned about him?”

  “A man with a past working as a bodyguard for a district attorney, he’s easy bait for the right buyer. I have a right to be concerned.”

  “How do you know he’s his bodyguard?”

  “I know hired muscle when I see them.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Yes, and tell your tail to quit following me.”

  “I think it’s best to keep him on you until the trial is over.”

  “What I need to do cannot be done with one of your lackeys in my pocket every day. I can watch my own back. I can’t have a tail on me for six more months.”

  “I’ll bring him back in if that’s what you want.”

  “I know you’re doing what you think is best but I can’t have a net out there.”

  “I said fine, no net. Just remember that you told me to pull him off.”

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  “That’s not what concerns me. It’s what they’ll do to you.”

  “They?”

  “The Shields primarily, they already tried to kill you once. What’s to stop them from trying again? Then the main in brown, Jackson Addler, if you make headway on those two cases, people will be coming out of the woodwork to take you out.”

  “I’m not afraid of death.”

  “You should be, it’s not unhealthy to fear death.”

  “It is for a detective.”

  “I fear death and it hasn’t eroded my skills.”

  “What is it about death that scares you?”

  “The uncertainty and the finality, what if all that awaits us is oblivion?”

  “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

  “It is Marshall. What if you found out at the end that all of your work was for naught, we all just return to nothing?”

  “I’d call it a relief.”

  “How is that a relief? It means nothing matters.”

  “Given the alternatives, it could be worse.”

  “There are some things I don’t think I’ll ever understand about you.”

  “If all that you fear is oblivion then you’re going to be all right.”

  “To me, that’s the worst thing.”

  “Nonsense, oblivion means freedom.”

  “Then what’s the point in solving cases. If all of our work results in nothing, then what are we doing?”

  “We find answers while we’re here, even if it amounts to nothing in the end, we search for truth and eventually we find it. We have no control over what happens when we die, therefore there is no reason to fear death.”

  “You sound like a man that’s prepared for it.”

  ‘The confrontation with Carmen made me face reality.”

  “Just don’t be in a hurry to shuffle off.”

  “I’m not sitting around waiting for death if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I’ll get DNA analysis on those four robes; I think we both know we’ll get hits on two of them.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about Carmen. If he knew his DNA was on one of those robes, he would have destroyed them or at least removed them from archives.”

  “He never knew that we found them.”

  “I’m sure he figured it out. Remember how upset he got when we arrested Parrotta?”

  “The funny things was, back then, I thought he was upset because he would have earned fame with that case.”

  “But now you realize that, given the chance, Carmen would have dropped that case, especially given all the evidence.”

  “It makes me think we were meant to solve it then.”

  “I would like to believe in fate but I can’t.”

  “If you need anything, just give me a call. I’ll let you know when the lab work comes back. In the meantime, take care of yourself.” Marshall sets the coffee cup down, he nods, he checks out with Regina before he leaves.

  “Are you keeping busy?” Regina asks.

  “I’m always busy, Miss Regina. I’ll see you soon,” Marshall says, he puts his gray hat back on and holsters his weapon before he leaves the doors of the precinct and drives home. Marshall begins looking over his file on Frederick Fiord, he gets on his computer, he was looking for missing people in the cities and towns where Frederick has been, he found an article about a teenager that the paper referred to as, “The Tree Boy.” Odd name for an article or a teenager, he thinks to himself. The teenager came into Kirksville and said he had been living in the woods, he claimed that his parents were dead, the name he gave police didn’t check out, the article went on to ask that if anyone knew the boy, they should contact the Kirksville Police Department. Marshall thought it could be a hoax, but then he saw a quote by the boy at the end of the article, “He told me he could bring them back.” When the reporter asked him who, “he,” was, the boy said he didn’t know the man’s real name, he just knew he was a carpenter. The article then stated that the boy would be evaluated but police urged anyone who knew his real identity to call them. The only detail that gave him pause was the date when the boy was discovered, it was nine months after Marshall knew that Frederick Fiord had left Kirksville, ten months after the remains of a dismembered nineteen-year-old girl were found in the woods. Marshall knew it was possible that this boy had been left behind just like his followers were when Frederick abandoned the cabin on the outskirts of Kansas City, Marshall takes a swig of whiskey, he plans on placing a call to the Kirksville Police Department to see if he can question the teenager, he would like to make it there on Friday, then be back by Sunday. Marshall looks up the last known address for Tyler Davidson and sees that he lives off of Garfield, he decides to drive over to his house before he gets drunk, he’s prepared to wait him out if he’s not home. Marshall exits his vehicle and surveys the premises, there is no car in the driveway but he glances in the garage window as he walks past and sees a car parked in there, he keeps his hand on his gun in his holster, he knocks on the front door, there i
s no response, he hears Tyler moving around in the house though, he rings the doorbell but the buzzer doesn’t work so he knocks again. He hears the hammer pulled back on a gun behind the door, Marshall takes his out of its holster and holds it close to his hip. He sees Tyler in the small window on the door; he watches his eyes, hoping that he doesn’t see his gun.

  “Who is it?” Tyler asks, behind the door.

  “I’m Detective Tumbler, I’m just here to ask you a few questions,” Marshall explains.

  “I don’t have time to answer questions,” Tyler replies, Marshall adjusts his gun so it’s aimed right at him but still keeps it on his hip.

  “Listen, I’m not a cop and I’m not here concerning anything that you did. I just want to talk; no one else will know we spoke.” Marshall hears Tyler turn the deadbolt, then he turns the lock on the doorknob and opens the door. “First, put that gun down,” Marshall tells him.

  “How’d you know I had a gun?’ Tyler asks.

  “Let’s just say, I’m not the kind of person that you want to pull a gun on.” Tyler sees the gun on Marshall’s hip, he keeps it aimed at him, Tyler’s hands shake.