A Taste of Honey

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A Taste of Honey Page 8

by Tom Benson


  “Kathy is ... my sister,” Mike said. He closed his eyes briefly and opened them again. His eyes glistened as tears threatened. He swallowed hard and wiped his eyes with his right forefinger and thumb.

  Honey reached out, took Mike’s left hand on top of the table, and squeezed.

  She said: “How old is this photo?”

  “That’s only about five years old,” he said. “I sourced the original from a newspaper office. They ran an article that told of his more recent exploits. He destroys children’s lives until he feels he has been compromised, and then he disappears and lies low for months.”

  “Do you have any idea where he is now?”

  “Nobody does. After he disappears, he sets himself up in another state.” Mike swallowed. “Honey, somebody has to stop him. He’s lived with at least three other families.”

  “May I keep this copy?”

  “Do you know somebody that might be able to find him?”

  “I know somebody that will be able to find him, and if you wish; deal with him.”

  The years disappeared from Mike’s features, and he beamed at his lovely companion.

  “Are you serious?” he said. “Police forces in three states have lost track of him.”

  Honey let go of Mike’s hand, folded the photo and slipped it into her satchel. She looked at the man buying her lunch. “He’s already on borrowed time Mike.”

  The tears flowed freely from the corners of the photographer’s eyes, but he tried to smile. He breathed in deep and nodded a silent thank you.

  He said: “I know what’s so different about you now.”

  She raised her eyebrows and inclined her lovely head, but remained silent.

  Mike said: “Other people change their identity and appearance, because they’re running away from something, but I think you’re running toward something.”

  Honey didn’t respond but held his gaze as she lifted her fruit juice to take a sip.

  The pair enjoyed an easy conversation over lunch and Honey promised she would update Mike when she had something to tell him. They parted on the street outside, kissing each other on both cheeks, wishing each other well for the future.

  *

  Tuesday, June 17th, 2003

  1 Police Plaza

  Lower Manhattan, New York

  Big John Kelly was on his office phone. He sipped his hot coffee as he waited for a response to the steady ring-tone.

  “Good morning Maria, it’s Captain Kelly.” He paused to let his officer gather her thoughts. It was after all 6:15am. He couldn’t know that she’d been exercising for 30 minutes already.

  Kelly said: “I apologize for the early call, but I’d like to have a meeting, and I don’t want it here at the office.” He listened for acknowledgment before continuing. “We’ll meet at a half-way point.” He removed his reading glasses and glanced up at his wall map to confirm his idea.

  A neatly manicured red fingernail was pointing to a location on the map.

  Kelly continued, “I’d suggest the main car lot; Lincoln Park West at 10am?” He heard paper being handled at the other end as Maria checked a map.

  “Good girl, I’ll see you there.” He replaced the phone on the cradle and looked up at Cindy. She nodded to confirm that it was the right thing to do and then left the office.

  Kelly stood and stared out of his office window, still unsure which way to deal with DI Maria Delano. As he had learned over the years, he knew he could confide in and consult one person; Sherlock, his PA.

  ***

  Chapter 6

  Wheeling and Dealing

  .

  Tuesday, June 17th, 2003

  Indianapolis, Indiana

  Honey felt that she had already become her new persona. She had documentation, a weapon, and allies in more than one location. Importantly, she felt she had the right frame of mind, without which, the remainder meant nothing.

  Detachment from reality and the ability to leave aside her knowledge of official justice would have to be the way forward, at least until she’d dealt with her unsavory targets. Honey closed her eyes, and compelled herself to focus mentally.

  Public transport would not serve her purpose, so she now needed a reliable set of wheels. As much as she would have preferred a powerful bike, she knew that such a thing would stand out and in most cases probably wouldn’t be as practical.

  Her wardrobe had been increased by a few select items after her lunch date with Mike. She had sometimes joked with Maria that they used their job as an excuse for buying a variety of outfits. For her first task of this new day, her cosmetics were applied to devastating effect. She wore a blouse, mini-skirt, and black stilettos and carried her black jacket over her arm.

  *

  “Good morning,” the smartly dressed salesman said, adjusting his tie as he outstretched a pampered hand. “My name is Karl.” He gave the impression that he was responsible for every one of the 100 vehicles on the forecourt.

  “Hi Karl,” Honey said, shaking the proffered hand and sensing that even the soles of Karl’s shoes would be clean. “I’ve had a look at your selection. The white Mustang caught my eye.” She glanced at the car. “How old is it?”

  “The Mustang is only three years old,” he said. “Would you like a closer look?” Even as he spoke his closer look at his customer didn’t go unnoticed.

  “Yes please,” she said and gazed along the car’s lines as they approached.

  “How long have you had it here?”

  “About three days. We only put it on display yesterday after our standard inspection and servicing.”

  “What’s the history on it?” Honey asked, and wondered if the man was sex-starved or always had the characteristic eyes and mouth of the wolf in a well-known fairytale.

  “One moment please,” Karl said and reached into the glove-box to retrieve a small card. “It’s had one owner, has lower than average mileage for the year, and has been dealer-serviced since new.”

  “I take it, that it is the true mileage on the odometer?”

  “Yes,” he said and his brow creased at the insinuation. He seemed genuinely hurt. “We don’t tamper with the vehicles. Our job is to ensure our customers are satisfied and receive a quality vehicle. We have a lot of repeat business.”

  Without going any further, Honey had heard the phrase that she wanted to hear; repeat business. She looked around at the wide range of gleaming vehicles sitting in the morning sun.

  “Karl,” she said in a warmer tone, “I like the look of the Mustang, but I want something that will give me good performance without standing out from the crowd.”

  Karl pursed his lips and nodded before turning to survey the entire lot himself. Honey watched where his gaze fell, going from left to right and back again. He finally stopped after a few seconds, but he was looking towards a large building, grinning.

  “We have something that you might like,” he said and smiled. “It’s younger than the Mustang by a year, but the price tag is going to be about the same.”

  “Go on,” she said. “You’ve captured my interest.”

  “This way please,” he said and indicated with his open right hand as he led his attractive client through the large display of cars. “There she is,” he said proudly and pointed to a dirty sedan parked in a small, separate lot near the service bay entrance.

  “Is there a Dodge under all that dust?” Honey asked and looked sideways at Karl.

  “Dodge Charger,” he said with a hint of pride, “fuel-injected, four-door, because it used to be a police vehicle.” He smiled and nodded to himself. “It came in late yesterday, which is why it hasn’t been serviced or cleaned yet.”

  “Could I have a look at it before it goes indoors?”

  “Certainly,” he said, “although that is a little unorthodox.” He left her for a moment and returned with the keys. Karl stood back, wide-eyed, holding the woman’s jacket. He was admiring his customer’s chassis as she launched into a rapid inspection of the Dodge. S
he made an appraisal of the interior, trunk and tires, before popping the hood to tug on one or two hoses and cables.

  Karl stepped forward. “You do realize,” he said, “that due to its previous use, the rear seat will be situated lower than the regular height-,”

  “Yes,” she said, turning. “I’ve heard about that sort of thing. It’s a means of keeping the rear seat passengers where they’re supposed to be, making it difficult for them to get out.”

  The salesman shook his head. He was becoming overawed by this woman.

  Honey finished her check of the Dodge and wiped her hands on a nearby rag. She smiled as she approached the bemused and highly impressed salesman.

  Karl was disappointed when the show was over, although his underwear had started to become uncomfortable. As his sexy blonde customer had bent into the interior and trunk, and then bent under the hood, her already short skirt rode high up her thighs. Karl Cooper couldn’t remember ever enjoying a car inspection so much.

  “Here’s the deal Karl,” Honey said. “It’s 9am now. I’ll return at 12:00 noon. If you can have the Dodge serviced, cleaned, and ready to go with a fresh set of boots; I’ll give you $500 less than the asking price; in cash.”

  “Well, we don’t usually-,” Karl said as he released Honey’s jacket back to her.

  “Okay, thank you and have a nice day Karl-,” she said and turned to go.

  “Wait, please,” Karl said. “I’m sure we can work something out-,”

  Honey turned. “I’ve already worked something out,” She winked at him. “All you have to do is say yes, Karl.”

  He stood gazing at her, speechless, and then he looked back at the car.

  “And a … fresh set of boots?” he said.

  “Yes,” Honey said, “a full set of new tires.” She engaged him with her eyes and a beaming smile. “I’ll be back at noon with the money.” She gazed at him and bit her lower lip briefly. “That should give you time to consider it.” She used a slightly longer stride as she walked away, placing one foot directly in front of the other to give her hips a gentle sway.

  The young salesman behaved exactly as Kathy had suggested he would. He was single and always eager to assist a pretty female customer. Honey didn’t need a rear-view to know that Karl would have his eyes fixed on her legs or her ass, or both. She smirked as she rounded the corner and eased into her normal comfortable stroll.

  *

  Lincoln Park West, New York

  Maria drove through the park from the southeast approach toward the northwest where there were two large parking lots. She passed the first group of cars and drove on. As she drove along the front of the second line-up, she noticed there was a driver in a silver Chevy sedan. He was wearing a blue T-shirt and black baseball cap. It was Captain Kelly.

  Two minutes after parking her red Firebird, Maria walked between the other vehicles. She wore jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers and carried a leather shoulder bag. It was big enough to hold a small automatic. Maria rarely went anywhere without a sidearm.

  As she strolled through the lot, it was warm with a light breeze. She was observing all around her, looking in particular for paneled vans, or cars where there were occupants watching. There was nothing suspicious nearby. A glance across the playing fields didn’t produce any worries.

  “Good morning sir,” she said as she eased herself into the comfort of the boss’s car.

  “Good morning Maria,” the officer said and couldn’t help a grin. “I take it you’re satisfied that we’re alone, and you can trust me?”

  “Force of habit sir,” she said. “I didn’t think I was that obvious.” She didn’t confirm the trust aspect of the meeting.

  Kelly said, “You weren’t obvious, but I know you still checked out the area. You drove around and through here about 20 minutes ago and then you probably watched from a distance before returning.”

  Maria nodded. “Okay, so we’re both careful. I’m here now.”

  He said, “Thanks for coming. I’ve got more information on the fire at Pinewood.” He looked out across the playing fields to their front. There was nobody on the fields, but there were several people in the park, jogging, walking dogs or strolling in the sun.

  Maria said, “What’s the latest?”

  “In one way,” he said, “it’s great news. In another way, things couldn’t be any worse,” A glance at Maria’s furrowed brow and squinting eyes confirmed her confusion. The senior officer continued. “As you might expect, I’ve got contacts all over the country. One of them is in Indianapolis.”

  Maria nodded and watched her boss’s pained expression as he explained.

  He said, “My contact told me that she managed to gain access-,”

  “She?”

  “She,” Kelly repeated and sighed, “has had access to the forensic files on the incident at the Pinewood house.” He paused and turned to look at the detective. “Before I carry on Maria, I’d like your honest opinion on something.”

  “Go on sir,”

  “You know Kimberley better than anybody. Do you think she’d be capable of going rogue?” he paused. “Is she capable of crossing the line?”

  “With respect sir,” Maria said without hesitation, “in my opinion, we are all capable of crossing the line. The only difference between us is what might trigger that move.”

  “That’s a good answer,” he said. “I should have expected you would say something like that. I guess I knew the answer, but I wanted confirmation.”

  “Let’s forget the pussy-footing sir,” Maria said. “What did your contact tell you?”

  “There were three bodies in that house when the fire caught hold.” He looked out around the area again and then looked at Maria. “One of them was some local lowlife who had a record of sexual offenses against girls and young women. The second one was confirmed from dental records to be Harriet Forest, Kimberley’s teenage sister.”

  Maria was staring at him, her face impassive as she listened.

  Kelly took a deep breath. “There were the remains of another young woman, but it wasn’t Kimberley.”

  “What about the wristwatch, the badge and-,”

  “Don’t mess with my head Maria. Those personal effects were left there intentionally. I would suggest that we both now know that we have a very clever and capable officer out there, who has lost the last person in her family, and she’s native.”

  “Why do you think that sir?”

  “Kimberley’s parents were already dead. Now her sister is dead, and I’m beginning to think that the ferocity and extent of the house-fire were no accident.” Kelly took a breath and buzzed his front windows down to get a fresh breeze blowing through the car. He switched off the air-con and turned to face Maria before speaking again.

  He said, “The local Police Commissioner up there has managed to block any media coverage of the details so far. The guy found in the basement had been handcuffed to a wooden chair, so he didn’t start the fire. He was also left in such a position that he wouldn’t die of smoke inhalation - he would have burned to death.”

  “That would take some calculation on the arsonist’s behalf sir,” Maria said. “How do we know this guy would have burned?”

  “According to forensics, the two girls were dead before the fire started, but the charred remains of the chair show the legs on one side damaged prior to the fire. Heavier items of furniture supported the chair to the rear and one side. It meant that the chair would fall over in the fire, which provided two things for the man strapped into it.”

  Maria looked at her superior and raised a shapely eyebrow.

  “First,” Kelly said, “it meant that the chair would fall before the smoke layers became heavy enough to reach down to floor level. It means that a man manacled to a chair is going to be below the thicker smoke. He would be able to breathe for a few minutes.” The officer looked out around the park and briefly closed his eyes. He inhaled and exhaled through his nostrils twice to calm himself.

  “What w
as the second thing it provided for the man sir?” She asked, but didn’t care.

  “It left the sick son-of-a-bitch staring at the bodies of the two dead girls as he burned.”

  “Good,” Maria said. “That just means he got what he fucking deserved.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Kelly said. “In the most recent charges against him, he was a member of a ring of sexual predators, but the other names are unknown.” Kelly continued to breathe heavily. “This guy hadn’t been proven to tackle a victim alone since his last time in prison.”

  “Oh shit-,”

  “Yes Maria, oh shit,” the big man said. “If our girl is out there, she probably has a list of people and they are all now enjoying their final days on God’s good Earth.”

  “What can we do sir? It’s not as if Kimberley is going to execute one or two people and let the matter drop.” She paused a moment. “Surely we can trace her movements in some way, just like any other suspect?” Maria was putting on as good an act as she could.

  “I know it will be difficult Maria, but she’ll make contact with you, I’m sure of it. When she does, please let me know, but nobody else.”

  “Is that why we’re having this conversation in your car and not at Police HQ?”

  “That girl is out there now and very much alone. I’ve checked her out in detail, and she is a dangerous, highly skilled operative, but I want to try to keep her one step ahead.”

  “How do you propose to do that sir?” She glared at him. “She contacts me, so I tell you, and then we work out how to trap her for her own good. That is fucking textbook. That suggestion is like a line from a B-movie.”

  When Captain Kelly placed a hand on her arm, she resisted, pushed the door open and got out of the car. She didn’t walk back to her car but set off at a rapid pace around the large expanse of the park. Maria needed air and time to think.

  Back in Captain Kelly’s office when he had broken the news of the fire, it was easy for Maria to bring on a natural bout of tears. She only had to recall how her father had died in the line of duty, and it made her cry. Although streetwise and a tough cookie, Maria Delano had idolized her dad.

 

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