Redeemer (A Detective Shakespeare Mystery, Book #3)

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Redeemer (A Detective Shakespeare Mystery, Book #3) Page 21

by Kennedy, J. Robert


  He stepped back and let the crime scene unit that had arrived with them do their thing, first setting up screens blocking the public from seeing the grisly sight.

  Constance “CC” Cruz walked up to him.

  “Can you believe this shit?” she asked. “Cut right in two, down the middle. I’ve seen cut in half, torn in half, hell, even ripped in half, but always at the waist. Never have I seen anybody cut right down the middle.” She pointed at the van. “That’s fucked up!”

  “You don’t need to convince me,” replied Walker as he sat on the hood of one of the cruisers. “How are you going to handle it?”

  “I talked to Vinny and suggested we take the whole damned thing in, van and all. He agreed. The flatbed should be here any minute.”

  Walker nodded.

  “Makes sense. And that”—he pointed with his chin at the rental—“you bringing it in too?”

  “Yup. It’s too exposed here, and it looks like rain. Last thing we need is our trace being washed away.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” He waved his hand at Aynslee Kai, who was sitting in the back of an ambulance. “And her?”

  “Looks like she was knocked out and taped up, that’s about it.”

  “No sexual assault?”

  “No, thank God. That poor girl’s been through enough.”

  Walker grunted. “Amazed she’s still chummy with Shakes. He’s like a bad luck charm for her.”

  “Tell me about it. If I were that girl, I’d be heading for the hills.”

  “When will you be finished with her?”

  “Soon. Once they do the standard trace kits on her, she’s free to go.” Cruz motioned at the two vehicles. “We’ll take these to the lab and process them there, so hopefully we’ll be out of here within an hour.”

  “Good. I’ll tell Miss Kai to come down to the station and give a statement, and see if we can find any camera footage around here.”

  “Frank’s good for that,” suggested Cruz.

  “Exactly who I was thinking of for the job,” said Walker with a smile, fishing out his phone. “I’ll get him on it right now.” He stepped away and motioned to Curtis as the phone rang.

  Frank answered the phone quicker than he had expected. “It’s Detective Walker, hang on a second, Frank.” He covered the mouth piece. “Yo, sweet cheeks!” Aynslee and Cruz looked at him.

  And so did Curtis.

  “Yes, dear?” he said.

  “Get some more units here to start canvasing. Let’s go door to door, and see if we can find any cameras around here that might have caught the action.”

  Curtis nodded and Walker returned to the conversation with Frank.

  “Sorry about that, listen, you’re not doing anything tonight, are you?”

  “Umm, well I did have plans.”

  “Oh, sorry, but I need you to review some footage. Did you hear about the body we found?”

  “The one with two sets of GPS coordinates?”

  Walker assumed that was geek humor.

  “Yes.”

  “Everybody’s talking about nothing but. Why, you think it might have been caught on camera?”

  “No, but maybe whoever dropped the vehicle off was. We’re going to canvass the area and start sending you footage. Start going through it and let me know if you find anything right away.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Walker ended the call and walked over to the ambulance.

  “You okay, Miss Kai?”

  She nodded, a little pale.

  “Did you see it?” he asked, gently.

  She nodded, and turned a little more pale.

  “Nobody should have to see something like that,” he muttered. “Unbelievable.”

  “How’d it happen?” she asked.

  His eyes narrowed and a playful smile spread across his face. “Now, Miss Kai, that wouldn’t be the reporter in you pumping me for information now, would it?”

  She smiled slightly. “I guess so. Habit.”

  He nodded. “You should see me at Thanksgiving dinner at my folk’s place. Sometimes I end up getting my brothers and sisters to confess to things they haven’t even done!”

  “Hey, don’t say that too loud,” said Curtis as he slipped his phone back in his pocket, “somebody’s liable to think your confessions are beaten out of the suspects.”

  “The worst I do is threaten them with a drumstick.”

  “Who, the suspects or your family?”

  “Both!” laughed Walker. A smile and a little color returned to Aynslee’s face. “Now, I need you to come to the station so we can get a statement from you,” he said.

  “Now? I’d like to go home and change, wash up, you know, just get this behind me.”

  Walker nodded. “No problem, I understand. I’ll have an officer take you home. He’ll wait for you, then bring you in, okay? I don’t want you being alone.”

  “I don’t want to be alone,” she said.

  Walker pointed at several officers who had gathered nearby. He raised his voice. “Any of these fine gentlemen who apparently have nothing to do can give you a lift.”

  Richards jumped forward, raising his hand.

  “My pleasure, Detective!”

  Walker chuckled, then lowered his voice, leaning toward Aynslee.

  “I think you have a fan.”

  She nodded as the tech scraped her fingernails. “I’ve had those. Sometimes they turn into serial killers.”

  “We’re done here,” announced the tech, sealing a plastic bag.

  Aynslee smiled and climbed out of the ambulance. “Officer Richards, shall we?”

  Richards smiled and walked toward his cruiser, opening the door. “After you, miss.”

  Walker watched her model like figure sway down the sidewalk then climb into the back of the cruiser.

  “That is one fine looking woman,” said Curtis over his shoulder. Walker turned to him, eyebrows shooting up his forehead, pleading innocence. “Don’t deny it, if those eyes were lasers you would have burnt a hole in that skirt.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Uh huh.” Curtis didn’t sound convinced.

  “I’m going to call my wife.”

  Walker turned away and fished out his phone, feeling a little guilty as the cruiser pulled away.

  “She won’t open the door,” said Vinny.

  Trace smiled at him.

  “Because you don’t have a face that anyone could trust.”

  He cocked an eye at her.

  “Moi? I’ll have you know that many a young damsel has fallen prey to these fine features.”

  “Yeah, and they all regretted it the next day.”

  Vinny feigned hurt. “Ouch, what would make you think that?”

  She motioned at his hand. “Where’s the ring?”

  He frowned. “I’m married to my work.”

  “Riiight.” She knocked on the door. “Fiona, it’s me, Detective Trace. Can you please open the door?”

  The sound of footsteps pounding, then the locks and chains hastily being unfastened were followed by the door ripping open and a scared little girl jumping out, hugging Trace.

  “Thank God you’re here!” she cried, sobbing into her jacket. Trace put her arms around her and gave Vinny a look. Two officers stepped around them and entered the apartment, one of them coming out a few minutes later.

  “All clear, Detective,” he said, taking up position outside the door.

  “Thanks.”

  She gently pushed Fiona away. “Okay, you’re safe now, got it?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you want to wait out here, or come inside?”

  “I’m going wherever you’re going.”

  Trace smiled. “Then let’s go inside.” She stepped in the apartment, and could see little different from when she had been in here earlier. She motioned at a chair in the living area. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable, and I’ll come ask you some questions in a few minutes.”
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br />   She nodded meekly and scurried to the couch, grabbing a pillow and hugging it tight.

  She’s definitely going to need some counseling.

  “What the fuck!”

  Trace followed Vinny’s expletives and stepped into the bathroom.

  “This is unbelievable,” he said, looking away, his eyes searching for something to look at and settling on her chest.

  He looked up. “I’ve never seen anything like this in my life.”

  She shook her head. “Me neither.”

  He looked back at the body laid out in the bottom of the tub that doubled as a shower. “I don’t even know where to start,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s just so, so”—he paused—“overwhelming.”

  Trace stepped forward and looked in the tub, then stepped back. “Umm, can you tell if he was alive when this happened?”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  They both spun at the voice of the new arrival.

  “MJ. Good to see you,” said Trace, stepping aside to let him by. “Guaranteed you haven’t seen this before.”

  “I’ll—”

  “Be the judge of that, I know, I know.”

  Trace stepped out of the cramped space.

  “Holy Christ!”

  She smiled. “Told you!”

  She walked over to Fiona. “How are you doing?”

  “He left a note!” Fiona jumped up, rushing into the bedroom, her nerves clearly still having the better of her, and a moment later raced back out, holding a piece of paper.

  “Just a second,” said Trace, motioning to one of Vinny’s team who stepped over and bagged the paper, then handed it to her. Trace held it up and read the note.

  “And where was he?”

  A shaky finger pointed at the closet. Trace motioned to where she was pointing. “Better give that the twice over,” she said to the tech who nodded and went to work. Trace turned back to Fiona. “And how did you get here?”

  “No idea. I left the hotel, got in the car with Jeff or whatever the hell his name is, he sprayed me, I woke up in some underwater torture chamber, was stuck there for hours or something, I don’t know, I have no idea how long it took!”

  She dropped down on the edge of the bed.

  Trace pointed at the television in the corner.

  “Did you turn everything on?”

  Fiona nodded then leapt at the television, turning it off, then flitting to the clock radio and sliding the switch to silence it.

  “I turned on all the lights and everything after he left.”

  “Okay, so you woke up underwater? What do you mean?”

  Fiona rushed from the room and Trace followed as the poor girl began turning off everything she had turned on, including the dishwasher. Finally out of things to turn off, she settled back on the couch, hugging her pillow. Trace took a seat across from her.

  “Underwater?” she prompted.

  Fiona shivered.

  “I don’t know how to really describe it.” She stared at the floor for a moment, then looked up. “It was like a coffin, filled with water.”

  “Like a coffin, or was a coffin.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “No idea.”

  “If it was filled with water, how did you breathe?”

  “I had a tube in my mouth, like a scuba diver sort of. My hands were tied behind my back, and my feet were tied together, and the water went all the way to the top. And it was pitch black. Like night. You couldn’t see or hear anything.”

  She hugged the pillow tighter.

  “Okay, so then what happened,” asked Trace gently as she scribbled notes.

  “I heard a voice. Some guy telling me about a test and my sins and all kinds of stuff. I don’t know, it’s like a blur. Then he yanked the breathing tube out of my mouth and the water drained away. That’s when it got bright all of a sudden and I saw the other guy.”

  “He was in the coffin with you?”

  She shook her head. “No, he was in another one. Like beside me I guess.”

  “Then how did you see him?”

  Fiona threw her hands up. “In the mirror!”

  Trace paused a moment and lowered her voice, trying to soothe the agitated young woman. “And what mirror would that be?”

  “Oh, sorry, I guess I forgot. It was above me, right in front of my face, like some funhouse thing. You look in it and it shows a reflection of someone else.”

  Trace nodded, getting the idea.

  “And who did you see?”

  “Some guy. I’ve never seen him before.”

  “Was he the guy in your tub?”

  Fiona’s eyes darted at the bathroom door, then she turned her head and looked out the window.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I didn’t look long enough.”

  “That’s fine,” said Trace. She pulled up a picture of Carl Gray on her phone. “Is this him?” She held out the phone for Fiona. Fiona looked and her head bobbed furiously.

  “That’s him!”

  “Okay, so then what happened.”

  “Well, he was told to ask what I did for a living, and I was told to ask that guy—”

  “Gray.”

  “Yeah, about how his wife died or something, and we were told we had one hour of air left, and whoever wanted to redeem themselves in the eyes of the Lord or something like that should push the button.”

  “What button?”

  “The button! Beside my head! Press it and your soul is saved by sacrificing yourself!” She grabbed at her hair and pulled, so hard Trace winced. She reached forward and put her hand on Fiona’s knee. She jumped. Trace kept contact.

  “You’re safe now. It’s over.”

  “No it’s not! There’s a body in my fucking tub, or at least half a body. Half a body! What the hell is up with that? Half a body? I’ve never even heard of that!”

  “You’re safe. The body will be out of here soon, and then we can get you someplace else to stay.”

  Fiona stopped and looked at Trace.

  “You mean move?”

  “You want to stay here?” Trace was taken aback at the question.

  Fiona paused and looked around. “I guess you’re right. I can’t stay here, it’s too…” Her voice drifted off and she stared out the window again.

  “Okay, so then what happened?”

  “Well, I guess I just lay there for a while, then we started talking, and we argued, then he pushed the button, and I woke up here.”

  “What did you talk about?”

  “I don’t know, he just kept judging me for what I did for a living.”

  “But what did he say about his wife?”

  “Oh, he said she cheated on him and deserved to die.”

  Trace nodded. Bingo! “Then what happened?”

  “He said something about still loving her, for me to lead a good life, then pressed the button. After that it went dark, there was a noise, like hissing, and I woke up here.” She leaned forward and pointed at the closet in her bedroom. “And that bastard was in there the whole time! Probably watching me, the sick fuck.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was naked when I woke up.”

  “Do you think you were—”

  “No,” interrupted Fiona. “I’d know.”

  Trace frowned. “Okay, we’ll run a rape kit on you anyway, just to be sure.”

  Fiona shook her head. “No way, I don’t want that.”

  “It might help solve the case.”

  “I don’t want anybody touching me!” she screamed hysterically.

  Trace leaned back and flipped her notebook closed. “That’s your choice, and we’ll respect it.” Trace stood up then sat down beside Fiona on the couch. “Is there anyone you can call?”

  Fiona, head buried in the pillow, turned to look at her. “For what?”

  “Just to be with you, someone you know, like your parents or a friend.”

  “Oh God, my parents!” she exclaimed. “Wait ’til they hear about t
his!” She held two fingers to her head, imitating a phone. “Oh hi, Mom, just wanted to let you know I’m a hooker and I was kidnapped by one of my regulars who held me captive in an underwater chamber then instead of killing me he cut some murderer in half! So how’s your day going?”

  She laughed, a little maniacally for Trace’s tastes, then spun toward Trace.

  “I know what he looks like!”

  “Yes, you said he was one of your regulars.”

  “But doesn’t that mean he’ll come after me? Since I know who he is?”

  Trace shook her head. “If he wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already. But I do want you to come down to the precinct and sit with a sketch artist, okay?”

  Fiona nodded as a throat cleared behind Trace. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Vinny looking at her. She patted Fiona’s leg. “Give me a minute, then we’ll head out.”

  Trace stood up and walked over to Vinny. “What have you got?”

  “Not much, MJ’s still doing his prelim.” He lowered his voice. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”

  She shook her head. “Never. And I hope never to again.” She paused as something horrendous struck her. “You don’t think—”

  “What?”

  “Louise—” She stopped, unable to bring herself to say the words.

  “Shakespeare’s girlfriend?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about her? What’s she got to do with this?”

  “She’s missing. Her and that reporter were attacked last night, and we found the reporter ten feet from the body.”

  “Jesus! How’s he taking it?”

  “Not good. He’s picking up her kid, then he’s supposed to come here to join us.” She looked at her watch. “He’ll probably be here any minute.” She motioned to Fiona with her chin. “I’m taking her back to the squad and pairing her up with a sketch artist. Maybe we’ll get something useful.”

  “She saw him?”

  “Yeah, she’s a hooker—”

  “Escort!” yelled Fiona from the couch.

  Trace lowered her voice. “Escort, and he was apparently one of her regulars.”

  “And he let her go? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  Trace nodded, lowering her voice even further. “I know, why would he let a witness go like that?”

  “There’s something else going on here. Something we don’t know about yet.”

 

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