Then, the scene switched back to Corning.
“We’ve worked successfully with them in the past, and they’re privy to certain information . . . we’ve elected to give them access to many of the facts of the case.”
Lisa came back on the screen. She was standing in front of a house Craig recognized. Yellow crime scene tape was wrapped around the property, police cars parked in front, and officers could be seen moving about, streaming to and from the house.
“As I reported yesterday, this is the house of Harold Garrison, the insurance broker turned politician. He was brutally murdered yesterday before the killer took his own life. He leaves behind a wife and two children who mourn his death.
“The murder of Harold Garrison is the third such murder in as many days, and there’s some talk among the Lincolns as well as high-level police officials that there may be a conspiracy at play, however, officially, they declined to comment. Sources have confirmed those suspicions, however.
“To further complicate this already complicated case, yesterday, sixteen-year-old David Haines was reported missing. Sources fear his disappearance may be tied to these affairs in some way, although, in exactly what manner, remains uncertain. I’ll be following his story, as well as reporting on further developments as they happen in these puzzling cases.
“Channel 7 urges the citizens of Richmond Hill to heed the words of Detective Corning and stay vigilant at all times.
“We will bring you breaking news as it happens. In an exclusive report, I’m Lisa Krunk, for Channel 7 Action News.”
Craig clicked off the television and stared at the blank screen. He’d heard of the Lincolns before. From what he understood, they’d cracked a few tough cases while working with the police.
And now they were involved in his affairs. Why don’t they mind their own business?
And then, he grimly realized, this was their business, but now they meddled in his. Something had to be done about them before it was too late.
Chapter 41
Thursday, August 25th, 1:44 PM
JAKE KNEW EXACTLY where Sammy Fisher lived. He’d been there once before, and he chuckled to himself as he spun along Front Street, thinking about Sammy’s little nest.
Sammy had once explained he preferred life in the suburbs rather than the inner city, because the quality of food to be found was much better here, the air was cleaner, the folks were nicer, and there was a much better class of homeless. He called himself a middle-class bum, not like the ones who inhabited the downtown core.
Buildings were sparse in this area, this close to the river, and as the Firebird approached the Richmond River overpass, Jake pulled to the side and stopped.
He grabbed the package of photos, jumped out, made his way to where the road touched the bridge and swung over the low metal railing. The ground in front of him ran down at a steep angle to the riverbank. Richmond River flowed smoothly below, on its way through the city to Lake Ontario far beyond.
He climbed down a few feet and swung under the bridge. Right there, right where the bank ran up and touched the underside of the four-lane overpass, that’s where Sammy’s castle was located.
Jake pulled aside a concrete colored canvas and revealed a dug out space in front of him, maybe ten by ten feet wide and four feet high. The floor and walls had been carefully covered in boards, and a small metal stand contained a kettle as well as a few cans and jars of necessities. Sammy’s other meager possessions were scattered about in a variety of places.
Jake heard a light snoring from the direction of a small cot pushed up against the far wall.
He whistled.
The man on the cot sprang up, coming to rest on one elbow. “That you, Detective Jake?”
Jake laughed. “Yeah, it’s me, Sammy. Time to get up.”
“Did you bring the pictures?”
Jake held up the package. “Right here.”
“Time’s a wastin’,” Sammy said, as he rolled off the cot, grabbed his tattered baseball cap from the floor beside him and plopped it on. He kept his head low as he scootched across the floor. Jake moved back and Sammy popped out of the doorway.
He shook Jake’s hand. “Let’s go sit by the pool where we can talk.”
Sammy dropped the flap, made sure it fell properly in place, and headed down the steep bank.
Jake followed him to the river’s edge where Sammy sank down onto a boulder. He motioned for Jake to sit. “Pull up a rock. Have a seat.”
Jake sat on the edge of a craggy boulder and looked at Sammy. The epitome of a bum, he looked the part in his flapping runners, worn out jeans, and bushy beard. Only his clear blue, always smiling eyes, revealed this strange individual had an intelligent mind.
“Let’s get to work,” Sammy said, holding out his hand. “Let’s see what you got there.”
Jake handed him the package and Sammy peeked inside. “How many?”
“There are sixty of David there. I thought a few more wouldn’t hurt. There’s also sixty each of two unidentified people. Maybe somebody knows who they are.” Jake pulled out a photo of David and handed it to Sammy. “Here’s the missing boy.”
Sammy took the 8x10, held it up in front of him and squinted. “Nice looking boy. How long you say he’s been gone?”
“Just one day. He was last seen yesterday morning before school. He never made it to class, so he must have been out wandering the town.”
Sammy nodded. “Ok. These pictures oughta do it.” He slipped the photo back into the package, set the bundle on the rock beside him and looked back at Jake. “What do you know about this kid? He ever into drugs?”
Jake shrugged. “His parents don’t seem to think so, but you know how it is. Parents are always the last to know, but I get the feeling this guy’s pretty clean. Never been in any kind of trouble with the law either.”
Sammy nodded slowly, his beard bobbing up and down against his checkered shirt. “Just think it may be important to know a bit about him so we know where to look and who to ask.”
“I got this for you, too,” Jake said, as he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a cell. “It’s a burner phone.”
“A what?”
“You really are out of touch, aren’t you Sammy? It’s a cell phone you can throw away once the minutes are used up, or fill it up again with more time if you want.” He held it out.
Sammy took the phone and studied it front and back.
“I got a hundred minutes,” Jake said. “In case you need to call me. It’s a lot easier than searching for a phone booth.”
“How do you work this thing?”
Jake laughed and showed him how the phone worked. “I’ve put my cell number in there already.”
“Amazing,” Sammy said. “I knew cell phones were getting cheap these days, but I didn’t know they were so cheap you could just throw them away when they were used up. Just like a wad of old gum.”
Jake chuckled. “They’re made in China. Stuff’s cheap there.”
Sammy was looking down the bank toward the river. “I already put the word out around town. Everybody knows somebody else they can get to help out. My people are ready to go soon as I get outa here.”
Jake stood. “Then, we better get going.”
Sammy rose to his feet, stretched and yawned. “I’m ready soon as I take a bath.” He hopped down to the sandy edge of the river, knelt, dropped his cap beside him, and soaked his head. When he stood, water dripped from his face and beard. He shook it off and wiped his face on his cap before plopping it back on his head.
Jake watched in amusement. “Feel better?” he asked, after Sammy had climbed up the bank.
“Feel like a million bucks. I’m primed and ready to go. If you give me a lift down to the park, I’ll get this thing rolling.”
Chapter 42
Thursday, August 25th, 2:00 PM
OLIVER CRAIG had come to a decision. The Lincolns were in the way and must be dealt with.
Immediately.
; Maybe they weren’t a present threat, but now he’d come so far, he couldn’t allow a chance of them getting in the way of his ultimate objective.
He leaned forward in his chair, dropped his freshly-lit Cuban in the ashtray, picked up the phone and dialed a number. Muller answered almost immediately.
“Muller, is the girl ready?”
“She’s all set to go, ready and waiting your commands.”
“I’m very concerned about Lincoln Investigations. We have to do something about them this afternoon. Can that be accomplished?”
“That should be no problem. The girl has proven herself to be exceptional in many ways, perhaps the best I’ve seen, and she’s eager to be assigned a mission.”
Craig watched the smoke twirl up above his desk. Muller and Wolff were doing a great job, thanks to their prior experience and, of course, his father’s notes.
Muller interrupted his thoughts. “How do you want to proceed, Mr. Craig?”
Craig tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear and sat back. He stroked his chin, formulating a plan of action. Finally, he said, “If both targets can be eliminated at the same time, that would be ideal, however at least one of them must be removed.”
“Just one, sir?”
“The way I see it, if it’s not possible to eliminate both, the other will be distracted and won’t be a threat any more. But if they are, we can deal with it at that time.”
“I’ll get Wolff to give the girl her instructions. Do you want the same end result? No survivors?”
Craig hated the idea of spending so much time conditioning the candidates, and then using them up. If there was a way they could be reused, it would save time and resources. However, he elected for the safer plan, one that would ensure their own protection. “We must,” he said. “We can’t take a chance of her getting captured and endangering our plans. No survivors.”
“Yes, Mr. Craig. I’ll get it done right away.”
“Oh, and Muller?”
“Yes.”
“Besides the girl and the new boy, do we have any other candidates?”
“There are two others in various stages of completion, but nothing available at this time. It may be a matter of a few more days.”
“Good. I have plans for them soon.” He gave Muller a few instructions on how the afternoon’s events were to occur, and then hung up the phone. He knew between Muller and Wolff, they would get the job done. And now he had other things to do while he waited for the good news that their objective had been completed.
Thursday, August 25th, 4:23 PM
THE GIRL WAS excited, and honored to be included in the Wizard’s plans. She was ready to go, and she listened intently as the Wizard repeated the instructions the final time.
Her requirements were simple, the reasons were clear, and the mission would be accomplished precisely as the Wizard had instructed.
“Go now,” the Wizard said. “And be thankful to have been chosen.”
The girl nodded slightly and rose to her feet. “Thank you for this honor.” She adjusted the handbag over her shoulder and waited.
The Wizard went ahead, opened the door, and she followed him down a corridor. He stopped before another door, hesitated a moment, his hand on the handle, and turned to face her.
“Is everything all right, Wizard?” she asked.
“Yes, yes.” He sighed, and then turned back to the door and opened it.
The exit-way led into a garage where a black Cadillac Escalade was waiting, the engine running, the back door open. A man stood by the vehicle and motioned for her to get into the back seat. She climbed in and the door clicked shut behind her.
The driver stepped into the front seat, and then a narrow door in the wall of the building hummed upwards, and the vehicle eased through.
The girl slipped the handbag from her shoulder, reached inside and removed a gun.
She checked the familiar semi-automatic compact pistol she’d been provided with. Wolff had given her a lot of practice time, and she was more than competent in its use. The magazine of the 9 mm Glock contained fifteen rounds. She didn’t expect to need all the bullets, they were just a safeguard. She assumed five would be enough.
Two for each target, and one for herself.
If the second target was unavailable, three rounds would be sufficient.
She fought to curb her excitement. Enthusiasm was fine, but being overly eager could compromise her mission. That would never do. She must remain calm and carry off the operation without hesitation.
She’d studied the map of the area and memorized the street names. She had an exact picture of the outside of the house in her mind. She would recognize the targets anywhere, thanks to photos she’d been shown, and was certain nothing could go wrong.
The Escalade pulled to the curb and stopped. She surveyed the street, and seeing no pedestrians or vehicles in this quiet area, she opened the door, stepped out onto the sidewalk and closed the door behind her.
The Escalade eased away. She watched it out of sight, and then turned and strolled the other way.
Not too fast. Not too slow. Don’t attract attention.
She took a left at the next intersection and continued on for a couple of minutes before recognizing the house that was her final destination. There was a Ford Escort parked in the driveway. She’d expected that.
She’d been told there may be a Firebird as well. There wasn’t. Perhaps there would only be a single target.
The house appeared to be quiet, and no one was around as she strode up the walkway to the front door. She peeked through the small window, but didn’t see anyone. She adjusted her handbag and reached inside. Her hand tightened around the grip of the pistol, one finger caressing the trigger.
With her other hand, she reached out and rang the doorbell.
Chapter 43
Thursday, August 25th, 4:25 PM
AFTER JAKE HAD dropped Annie home, she’d spent the last couple of hours going over her notes, struggling to come up with something to shed some light on this puzzle. Matty had come home from school an hour or so ago and was next door, playing with Kyle, so the house was quiet, allowing her to concentrate.
But she was getting nowhere, and was frustrated.
She tossed her pen down onto her desk, slid the chair back and stretched. She wandered into the kitchen and started a fresh pot of coffee, hoping a break would clear her mind before she attacked the problem again.
While the coffee brewed, she sat at the table and leafed idly through a magazine, not seeing anything on the pages, her mind continually drifting back to the baffling question. Why are people being killed, and what’s behind it all?
Soon, the smell of fresh coffee filled the room and she fixed herself a cup. She dropped into a chair, and as she raised the steaming drink to her lips, the doorbell rang. She took a quick sip, set the cup down and went to see who was calling.
She peeked through the small window in the front door. It was a young girl, perhaps sixteen or so.
She swung the door open and smiled at the visitor.
The visitor didn’t smile back.
Annie noticed the girl’s hand in her bag, perhaps pulling out some advertising material, or a pamphlet of some kind, but when she stared into the caller’s cold eyes, her intuition kicked in.
Something was terribly wrong.
She took a cautious step back as her eyes moved to the handbag. She saw a glint of metal, and then the barrel of a gun as a weapon was withdrawn. The girl stepped into the foyer and leveled the pistol.
Annie reacted on instinct and jumped to her left, momentarily shielded by the door, and then scrambled up the steps toward the second floor.
A shot exploded behind her. Missed. Another shot. The bullet splintered the wooden step in front of her.
With a final leap, she fell onto the top landing. She heard the assassin on the steps behind as she stumbled to her feet and raced for the master bedroom.
She slammed the door and leaned aga
inst it. The door had no lock, and she had no time to set up a barricade.
Her eyes frantically swept the room, searching for a weapon, anything to defend herself with. She saw nothing.
Footsteps sounded outside the door, and then a low squeak as the knob turned. She braced her feet and forced her weight against the door. It shook as the killer attempted to push it open. But it held. For now.
The gun erupted again. A hole appeared above the doorknob and a bullet smacked into the floor by her feet, bringing with it the faint odor of gunpowder.
She wasn’t safe here. The killer was attempting to shoot her way in.
Annie looked to her left. The master bathroom was her only hope. It had a lock, but it wouldn’t hold long, and she would be cornered. The door behind her crashed open as she raced to the bathroom. She slammed the door, locked it and swung around.
The window.
It was small, and a long drop to the grass, but she had no choice. It was her only chance to get out alive.
She leaped to the window as the door splintered behind her. A shot had weakened the latch and the lock was almost free. She had but a moment to spare.
She released the window bolt, pushed up, and then hoisted herself into a crouch on the small window ledge.
Wood snapped as the door strained. The assassin was coming through.
She carefully twisted around and hung by the ledge with her fingers. She looked at the ground, a long way down. She took a breath, pushed out with her feet and let go.
She hit the ground, her legs bent, and she rolled as she landed. She lay still a moment. Her left leg was sore, but ok, and her shoulder was bruised where she rolled, but she was otherwise uninjured.
She saw the girl appear in the window as she scrambled to her feet and took a glance up. She dashed around the corner of the house, out of the line of fire.
She had to get to a phone.
She dare not go back into the house for her cell. She made a snap decision and jumped the small hedge dividing their house from Chrissy’s. She heard Matty and Kyle playing in the backyard. She couldn’t endanger them, so she raced to the front of the house and banged frantically on the door.
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