by Ian Worrall
Zach shakes his head. “I’m sure he’ll try. But to be insane he would have had to not know what he was doing was wrong. Every serial killer from Jack the Ripper onwards knew it was wrong to do what they did. They chose to do it anyway.”
“What about witnesses?” Jackie asks.
“I believe Detective Burnlee has the files on any witness statements. But we go will go through them. I’m sure you all know your jobs; find where they were last seen alive and talk to their friends.”
With Zach’s presentation finished, Captain Maloney gives each of the detectives a schedule. Each partner team gets a different day off, to avoid mistakes caused by burn out and exhaustion.
Chapter 18
S tanding up from the park bench, Quincey, in his dark clothes and sunglasses, has just handed over a note to Valeri Kucherov, a note that simply said, “Max Kehoe” and “Celine Charlebois.”
Walking away, Quincey drinks his coffee. What significance would Max Kehoe have to the Russians? Not a Russian name, must be an assumed name if there’s a connection to the Russians. Why he had to check the name out for something that happened ten years ago, he doesn’t know, but what the boss wants, the boss gets, like any other job.
Turning off his burner phone, his police-issued mobile phone rings. “Great. Two more of The Black Roses taken out,” he says out loud to himself.
* * *
“Here’s two unsolved murders.” Jackie takes her pen out of her mouth as she pulls up the file for Cara McIsaac. “A little over ten years ago.”
“COD?” Mitchell asks.
“The injuries were blunt force trauma to the back of her head. That was when she fell over and hit her head on rocks. But the cause of death was asphyxiation.”
“Smothered her to make sure she was dead.”
“No suspects at the time,” Jackie says. “Just a list of those questioned. The second one, Charlotte Forbes, died of multiple sharp force traumas.”
“Stabbed?” Mitchell asks.
“Bigger blade than a knife. Likely killed with a machete.”
“Just the same, pull the files on the case and see if anyone questioned matches a list of suspects in Zach’s file.”
Chapter 19
A fter a long stressful week of murder—the last few days have almost been a blur—Melissa is lying on top of Danil in bed. Her head rests on his muscular chest like a pillow. His arms are holding her tight to him. She is half asleep as he kisses her on the top of her head.
“How was your day, my love?”
“Productive,” she says.
“Got Marcus yet?” He kisses her again.
“Working on it.”
“What’d you do then?”
“Two of his crew and another rapist.”
“What’s the ETK on Marcus?”
She lifts her head. “ETK?”
“Estimated time of killing.”
“New one. Even I haven’t heard that.”
“Well?”
“Couple weeks.”
“Why so long?”
“Cops gave them the same warning they gave you.”
“Not to start a war?”
“That and they’ve been targeted for murder. And not to mention Marcus has probably hired someone to take you out.”
“I didn’t start the war. I will win it though. After all, I’ve got the best in the biz in my loving arms right now.”
She twists herself up on his body and kisses him on the lips. “Yes, I am.”
“So, how’d these guys go?”
She begins to describe how she switched drain cleaner for cocaine when they hear a loud crash at the front gate followed by an explosion from outside that blows the windows out of the bedroom and throughout the house. Melissa screams as Danil curses for several seconds. Glass flies over both Melissa and Danil as he pulls the bed cover over Melissa and turns over, shielding her with himself on top.
Keeping Melissa under him, Danil looks up to the window facing the street and can see the dark of night brightened by the flames of what he figures is a vehicle on fire.
Yelling out what seems like every Russian curse word, he grabs a MAC-10 from the drawer of his bedside table and runs to the window. He sees three people running away down the street as Melissa joins him at the window. He turns and grabs her by the throat lifting her off her feet so she is eye level with him. She grabs his forearm as he points the MAC-10 at her forehead as he pins her against the wall. Her teeth clench as she sees the rage in his eyes.
“You got two days to take him. Got it?”
She nods her head and squeezes his forearm twice with Danil holding her against the wall.
“Good.”
He kisses her on the top of her head as he drops her to the floor. When sirens start approaching, Danil hands her his gun.
“Get to the room,” he says.
After rubbing her throat and swallowing several times, she puts on her bath robe as she enters a walk-in closet that is as expansive as some people’s living room. One side is full of Danil’s clothes, the other side has three hangers, each with a set of lingerie. Her lip curls up as she passes them, goes down a flight of stairs and into a part of the basement. The wall to this section has three other doors in succession that give access to a heavy metal door outside of which is a hand scanner and security alarm panel. Putting her right hand on the scanner, she enters her code, opens the door, and enters a room filled with computer monitors.
What they call “the room” was inspired by the Jodie Foster movie Panic Room. Whenever the police or other law enforcement agency or any of his associates are around, Melissa is to hide in the room. This room helps keep my secret alive.
To the survivors of rape she counsels, she’s an angel or beacon of light on the road to recovery; a hero to them for taking out the men who harmed them—some would think that anyway. Any woman would want to kill the man who raped her or treated her like a punching bag. For Pete, my big brother, the little sister is still trying to find herself. If he only knew what I really did. One job often pays what he makes in a whole year.
She hopes that she will never be found out, which is why the panic room is one of her favorite places. The fewer people who see me with him the better. Continue with life as is and maybe one day there will be freedom. But few in this line of work retire voluntarily. Usually they die in prison or die as they lived. I will be the exception. But so many others have thought this too, and they were all wrong.
She sits at a bank of CCTV monitors. No surprise, Danil had installed a top-of-the-line security camera system. The camera in the foyer of the front entrance was showing up black. But with cameras at the front gate and outside she will be able to pull up video to see three of her next four targets.
But first things first. In the mirror, she sees the marks on her neck where Danil grabbed her. With a digital point-and-shoot camera, she takes a selfie. This might help in her escape. If she’s ever caught she can play the abused woman role. Next, she plugs in her cell phone and runs the facial recognition software on the guy at the church. Nothing comes up, but she prints a picture of the guy.
Next priority is to see which cops come to question her man, to avoid any possible infiltration by undercover agents. Not that they would be that stupid to send an undercover agent with uniformed officers or known detectives. She remembers the stories of stupid criminals like the bank robber who used a note on the back of a personal check. Surely there must be stupid cops somewhere, too.
The first emergency vehicles on the scene are the fire department. They blow through the gate and up the driveway where the sprinkler system has extinguished the fire. They are followed by an ambulance and four police cruisers. The firefighters, ambulance crew, and police disembark from their vehicles as Danil steps outside the door to meet them.
“Thanks for coming so quickly, gentlemen.” He walks up to greet them. “But I think it was just kids pulling a prank.”
“A prank? You’re kidding, right?” the fire
chief says.
“Well, I guess the old bag of shit set on fire on the front porch just doesn’t cut it anymore.”
“Be that as it may, we need to check inside to see if there’s any residual fire.”
The fire chief tries to move past him, but Danil grabs him by the shoulders.
“No need, my friend. I got a state-of-the-art security system. Sensors built into the wall will detect any heat.”
As he pulls out a tablet computer and shows the fire chief his fire detection system, a dark sedan pulls up and joins the police officers. Mitchell, Jackie, and Jared Torres step out of their vehicle.
Danil has his left hand over his right, the right hand giving the police the middle-finger salute. Detective Torres he knows well, one of the many cops who have tried and failed to pin anything on him. “Nice of you to show up, Jared. Got two lackeys with you, I see?”
“No,” Torres says. “Homicide detectives. Mitchell Burnlee and Jackie Cruze.”
* * *
Melissa’s eyes narrow as she sees Jackie, remembering her from the survivor’s meeting, and Mitchell. You again.
* * *
Danil drops his jaw open in a mock questioning way. “Homicide? No one’s been killed.”
“This just gives us an opportunity to question you about Gary Taylor,” Mitchell says.
“Gary Taylor? Never heard of him.”
“Sure, you have,” Jackie says. “His crew put one of your crew into a coma last month.”
“My crew?” Danil asks “Little lady, I’m a law-abiding citizen and an honest businessman.”
“Right,” Mitchell says.
“I don’t have to stand here and be insulted detective.” He points to Detective Torres. “This guy’s been trying to pin something on me for years. If I was Russian Mafia and this Gary Taylor prick had put one of mine into a coma, his whole crew would have been wiped out by the end of the week.”
“You’re a lot more patient than your father was. Or at least you’ve become that,” Torres says.
“So,” Mitchell says, “Where were you Monday last week at eight a.m.?”
“I don’t have to answer any questions without my lawyer here. But I was in the middle of banging some chick.”
“What was her name?” Torres asks.
“I do a different chick every few days. Sometimes I keep her for a week.”
“You’re disgusting,” Jackie says.
“Really?” Danil flexes his biceps muscle. “My arms are bigger than your legs, little girl. Why don’t you spend the night with me and I’ll show you what it’s like to be done by a real man.”
Melissa watches all this and can hear all the audio. She laughs at that comment. If he is anything, Danil is great in bed. Despite it almost always being the missionary position, the sex is great. Surely, he’s lying about being with other women. He should know that hell hath no fury like that of a woman scorned. And he trained me on how to unleash that.
“No, I want something more than four inches,” Jackie replies.
“If you only knew,” Melissa says at the monitor screen.
“Well, if you want to ask me any more questions, contact my lawyer,” Danil says. He turns to head back into the house. “Got to call my carpenter to do some repairs.”
“We need any security video footage you have,” Mitchell calls out to him.
Danil turns again to face them. “Get a warrant. Now get off my property.” He turns away from them again and walks into his house.
Detective Torres calls out to the emergency workers. “Pack it up and head out, people.”
As Melissa sees the emergency workers leave the property, she saves snapshots of the three black men who were running away from the scene. Opening the door to the panic room to greet Danil as he walks down the stairs to the basement, he’s red-faced with jaw clenching as he walks up to her, tears her bath robe off, grabs her by the waist, and lifts her up so her eye line is level with his as he pins her against the wall.
“Now remember, two days left for Marcus to live. Once I get the information on the three who did this, they’re gone within a week. Then I’ll let you slow down and take out your rapists again. Understood?”
“Yes, understood.”
He kisses her on the forehead and continues. “Good. Don’t come back until the job is done. The information will be at the usual place.”
As he starts to put her down she asks her own question. “Are you really with a different woman every night when I’m not here?”
Lifting her again he growls out, “Not that I have to justify this to you, but no. Had to provide an alibi. They probably have me under surveillance all the time if they truly suspect me of being a mob boss.”
He puts her down as he kisses her again.
“Now get the job done. Make it public on Marcus and I’ll triple your fee to one-fifty large.”
“And the other three?”
“One hundred for each of them if public, fifty if not.”
She turns to enter the panic room with Danil behind her. He sits down at the CCTV monitors and starts printing pictures of the snapshots Melissa had taken.
At the back of the panic room Melissa slides a wheeled bookcase to the left and reveals another door with a hand scanner and alarm panel. She opens this door and enters a tunnel. Like any smart criminal, Danil always had an escape route planned. A tunnel in the panic room was a perfect route.
Closing the door to the panic room behind her, the lights in the tunnel are activated by motion sensors. Do I believe what he told me or what he told the cops? A man with his wealth could have just about any woman he wanted. And he does have time whenever she’s out on a job. It’s no secret that men like him see women as their property. I could work for my freedom, but for now I must focus.
When she reaches the end of the tunnel, she puts her right hand on another sensor.
“Put your left hand on the sensor,” the computerized voice says.
She does as instructed. A criminal enterprise can never have too much security.
“Now enter your security code.”
Melissa punches in the numbers 64897666457, a code that would take months for a hacker to break. She waits while the computer confirms her entry code.
“Code confirmed. You may now enter.”
“Thank you for letting me into my own home,” she says to the security system.
She pulls the door open, climbs a ladder into her garage to see her Chevrolet Cobalt and a red Chevrolet Tahoe. The SUV will be perfect for what she has in mind on how to take out Marcus publicly.
Having her own house connected with a tunnel to Danil’s mansion was another great idea she had. A two-bedroom bungalow that backs onto the gated community of Danil’s home allows her to maintain her cover as a rape crisis counselor. Any law enforcement surveillance of Danil would never see her enter the home. So, if he ever does go down, I will be free of him, even if I am in prison. With millions saved up from her jobs, she could leave now. But with his connections, she would be found. When he does get caught then she can escape.
She opens a hidden panel at the back of the garage, revealing a gun rack with an assortment of twenty firearms.
Pulling out a STAR-21 rifle, she kisses the barrel of the gun. My baby. Danil wants a public display of Marcus’s death, his baby and my baby will deliver. The gun fits snugly in her arms. Chosen for its compact design, the barrel is still long enough to be accurate at over four thousand feet. She caresses the gun like a mother soothes a crying baby.
Checking her go bag to make sure the supplies are stocked. Three one-gallon bottles of water, her adult diapers, in case nature calls, and a bag of trail mix to eat if she takes the whole two days to complete her job. Not likely, as she knows where the target will be. Her night vision equipment is ready. She attaches the suppressor to the gun and takes a sixty-round box of ammunition.
After she puts on her black clothes, she does her last job and changes the license plates on her Tahoe to a
set from the Canadian province of Alberta.
Everything ready, she starts her SUV, activates the garage door opener, and heads out into the night to her next job.
Chapter 20
S tanding on the side of a bridge, Colton smokes a cigarette while his SUV is parked off to the side of the road, twenty feet away from the bridge. This area is all but deserted at two in the morning. Everything is perfect. No one around, just me and the girl. The only sound is the water lapping against the shore and supports of the bridge.
Drumming his fingers on his legs after flicking his cigarette into the water below, he walks back to his truck and opens the back. My timing is perfect as always. His latest victim is regaining consciousness as he pulls her out and takes her over his shoulder. After grabbing his flashlight, a cinder block and rope he walks back to the bridge.
She starts kicking her legs up and down, hitting Colton in the process as she also tries to slide off his shoulder in her attempt to break free. Her muffled screams cause Colton to breathe out heavily like a sexual release as he sits her on the ledge. He opens the gear bag to see a brunette girl, nineteen. She is crying as he kisses her on the forehead and ties the rope around her waist.
“Enjoying your last seconds alive?” Colton asks.
To no avail, she pushes at him with her feet and tries to scream but the duct tape over her mouth muffles any sound.
“Good try, my little darling, but there’s no escape.”
He stabs her under the collar bone three times and then pushes her off the bridge, shining the light on her as she falls thirty feet to hit the water, going under the surface in five seconds. Whistling a nonsensical tune to himself, he skips back to his truck. Too bad the flailing couldn’t have lasted longer.
Chapter 21
S ettling into the cargo area of her Tahoe, Melissa gains her vantage point on the second level of a parking garage across the street from The Max House. The music ends as a couple gets into a cab. Marcus was still inside a half hour ago. Now, at almost three in the morning, he should be leaving soon with his latest stripper for some private time. She clicks the safety off her STAR-21 rifle. The cargo cover is above and covering her, and part of the back of the vehicle is open. A custom job she did herself, a cut in the rear gate of the SUV allows her to do sniper work when the job calls for it.