Jack of Diamonds

by Christopher Greyson

  The woman gave him a weary, tight smile and stepped to the side. “Of course. Please come in. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to tell you, though.”

  Jack and Alice walked in and took a seat on the couch in the living room in front of an open window. A pile of mail was stacked on the coffee table in front of them, next to a dead houseplant covered in dust.

  “I’m Amy Paterson.” She sat on a high-backed chair across from them. “I’m a shift nurse at the hospital and I’m currently going to school too.”

  “We appreciate your time,” Jack said. “What can you tell me about your neighbor?”

  “I’m afraid not too much. As you can see from my poor plants, I’m not home often. And it’s really a hi, bye, have-a-nice-day type of relationship. I didn’t even know his last name until you told me just now.”

  Jack pointed outside. “Each unit has two parking spaces. Did Philip have one or two cars?”

  “One. A blue sports car.”

  “Do you remember him having friends over? Any other cars parked there?”

  Amy closed her eyes and nodded. “I think I’ve seen another car parked next to his a couple of times, but I couldn’t even tell you what kind.”

  “Color? Make? Anything?” Jack pressed.

  Amy shrugged. “No idea.”

  Alice pointed at the window. “You have a little security camera.”

  Amy scowled. “Package thieves. I had two taken from right in front of the door. I got the camera to scare them away.”

  “Does the camera also catch the parking spaces?” Alice asked.

  Jack had to fight the urge to kiss Alice then and there. “You’re brilliant.”

  Alice blushed.

  “It might.” Amy stood up. “I haven’t looked at it in weeks.” She took out her phone and opened an app. Alice moved over to stand beside her, and Jack looked over her shoulder.

  “I’m not really too familiar with the software,” Amy admitted.

  “Would you mind if I take a look?” Alice asked.

  Amy handed Alice her phone, and with a few flicks of her fingers, Alice brought up the camera view. Sure enough, it captured the front steps and several parking spaces, including Amy’s and Poole’s.

  Jack held onto Alice’s shoulders as she scrolled through the footage. Every time he felt her warm skin beneath his touch, the vision of death and insanity he had left in the old church receded a couple of inches.

  Alice scrolled down a few days and stopped when Amy pointed at the screen. “That’s it.” A green Honda was parked next to Poole’s sports car. “I’ve seen it there several times.”

  “Is it all right with you if I send a copy of this video to myself?” Alice asked.

  “Of course.” Amy’s eyebrows rose. “Do you mind if I ask what he did?” Alice looked at Jack.

  “I’m afraid I can’t go into that,” he said. “But I will say this: if you see him, or anyone else entering his apartment, do not approach, and call the police immediately.”

  Amy nodded.

  Jack took out his own phone and called the station. “This is Jack Stratton. I need you to run a vehicle report for me.”

  42

  Jack glanced at Alice, who sat beside him in the Charger. “Did I mention that you’re a genius?”

  “Yes, several times. But you can tell me again.” Alice slid over and leaned against him and let out a sigh.

  “You’re beautiful and brilliant.” He kissed her, keeping one eye open and focused on the house down the street with the green Honda parked out front.

  Alice followed Jack’s gaze and sat up straight, suddenly rigid. “Why haven’t you called the police yet? Are you sure he’s here?”

  “I’d give it four-to-one odds. Philip’s got no car, and the police are watching the bus station and the trains. He’s a weird guy, so I’m hoping he doesn’t have a lot of friends that would help him out. If Thomas shows up with a bunch of cruisers, he’ll scare Philip off.”

  With the back of his hand, Jack knocked on Alice’s chest. There was a solid thud.

  “Hey!” Alice smacked his hand away. “Inappropriate.”

  “I was just making sure you had your bulletproof vest on.”

  “You can ask instead of getting handsy.”

  “We’re about to get married. I want to do a lot more than get handsy.”

  Alice’s face flamed red.

  Lady stood up, stuck her head over the seat back, and nudged Alice’s shoulder.

  “Ow!” Alice bumped into the door. “Easy.” She rubbed behind Lady’s ears, her thick fur shedding in the car.

  “She misses you,” Jack said. “We both do.”

  Alice leaned forward to kiss Jack, but Lady nudged her with her head again. “Okay. I’ll give you a treat, but first I get to kiss Jack.”

  When they pulled apart, both a little breathless, Jack pointed to the house. “Someone’s looking out the front window.”

  The curtain was pulled back and someone scanned the street. With the reflection on the window, Jack couldn’t be certain who it was.

  Alice sat bolt upright. “There’s a guy coming out.”

  A chubby man walked down the front steps of the house and scanned up and down the street like a frightened bird.

  Jack pulled Alice close and kissed her. “Stop staring,” he mumbled.

  She nodded slightly and kissed him back. The man got into the green Honda and started it up.

  “Wait,” Jack cautioned as he held Alice close and gently kissed her again. “Let’s see where he goes.”

  Jack smiled as the Honda backed up and drove around to the side of the house.

  “Why are you smiling? Why did he move the car twenty feet?”

  “If Poole is inside, the last thing he wants to do is go out the front door.”

  A few minutes later, the chubby man reappeared with a man in a baseball hat carrying a duffel bag and a tripod.

  “See the camera equipment?” Jack grinned. “That’s our cue. Dial 911. Lady, the chase is on.”

  Lady barked excitedly as she sat down.

  Alice dialed 911 and put her phone on speaker.

  “911, what is your emergency?”

  “This is Detective Jack Stratton. I need all available units to 35 White Pine. I’ve got Philip Poole.” As the Charger streaked toward the house, Jack ran down the plan once more. “Open your door, but don’t move around the car. There are two of them, and if you move, I’ll look back at you and take my eyes off them.”

  “I won’t move unless you tell me,” Alice said. “You’re running the show.”

  Jack nodded. “Lady, get ready.”

  Lady huffed and panted.

  The man in the baseball hat was closing the trunk when the Charger skidded to a stop, blocking in the Honda. The man’s head jerked up at the sound of skidding tires, and Jack saw the surprised face of Philip Poole.

  Jack pressed Lady’s release button as he jumped out of the car, his gun aimed at Poole’s chest.

  Alice’s door opened behind him and Lady’s claws clicked off the cement.

  “Freeze!” Jack ordered. “Police! Hands where I can see them!” A thrill shot through him as he realized how much he’d missed saying those words.

  The chubby man got out of the car. When he saw Jack, his hands shot over his head so fast that he dropped his car keys and they bounced off his balding head. Poole started to run for the house, but Lady sprinted in front of him and cut him off.

  Snarling and barking like a hungry wolf, she was truly terrifying. Poole shrieked and tried to run the other way, but Lady quickly circled him.

  “Stop!” Jack moved sideways, keeping his gun trained on Poole.

  Poole stopped moving, but he was still screaming in fear.

  “Lady, no speak.”

  Lady stopped barking. She planted her feet, her fur sticking up, making her look even larger. She bared her teeth and a low rumble emanated from deep in her chest. It sounded like a freight train going by.

>   “Driver, interlace your fingers behind your head and get down on your knees,” Jack ordered.

  The chubby man complied; his red cheeks puffed out.

  “Lie on your face. Arms out from your sides and feet spread wide.”

  Poole’s hands started to lower.

  “Raise your hands!” Alice shouted.

  Jack smiled. “You’d better do it, Poole, or she’ll shoot you, and then the dog will eat you.”

  Lady growled and chomped the air. Poole’s hands shot back up and he awkwardly kept them up as he knelt and then lay on the ground.

  Sirens sounded from every direction. Jack frisked him and slapped cuffs on his wrists. When he yanked Poole to his feet, he couldn’t stop smiling.

  It felt great to be back.

  43

  “Good work,” Morrison said, addressing Thomas and Jack equally as they walked into his office. “They’re processing Poole now, and then you can interview him, Frank.”

  “I want to be in on that,” Jack said.

  “There’s an observation room.” Thomas crossed his arms and looked to the sheriff. “We’ve already muddied the legal waters enough by having a consultant present during so much of the investigation.”

  Morrison stood up behind his desk. “He’s not a consultant, remember? He’s a detective. I deputized him.”

  Jack turned to face Thomas. “Look, I’m willing to let you steal credit for catching the guy—”

  “Steal? I’m the one who officially arrested him.” Thomas tapped his own chest with his thumb.

  “After I found him and had him in handcuffs. But hey, get your picture in the paper. I don’t care. I just want to make certain we got the right guy.”

  Thomas made a face like he’d bit his own tongue. “What are you talking about, Stratton?”

  “Besides the dressing room, Poole’s cameras were all set up in playgrounds, school bus stops and the bathroom outside the kid’s park. He’s a pedophile.”

  “You’re forgetting to mention the camera we found in the church,” Thomas said.

  We found?

  “None of the monitors in Poole’s hidden office had a feed from the church,” Jack said, speaking directly to Morrison. “That’s why I want to be in on the interview. Poole’s definitely guilty of a number of crimes, but we need to make certain that he’s the killer we’re after.”

  Thomas put his hands on Morrison’s desk and leaned forward, towering over him. “Stratton can’t let go of his theory that the killer is after women on their wedding anniversaries. He’s got blinders on. There’s no way I’m letting Stratton into my interview room, I don’t care if he’s deputized or not. I’ve gone along with all this so far, but if you push me, Sheriff, I’m going over your head.”

  Jack knew the look on the sheriff’s face. Jack had just lost the argument. In the end it came down to politics, plain and simple.

  “Jack, you’ll be watching from the interview observation room,” Morrison said. “But Frank, I’m going to join you for the interview.”

  Jack smiled grimly. He had lost that battle, but with Morrison in the room, there was a chance they could still win the war.

  Jack stood in the interview observation room waiting for Morrison and Thomas to bring Poole in. Castillo scowled as he paced back and forth behind Jack. Thomas had insisted that only two people should question Poole, so Morrison had sent Castillo to watch with Jack. It was clear that he wasn’t happy with the decision either.

  Jack felt bad for Morrison. The last thing the sheriff needed was for Castillo to hold a grudge; things were tense as it was.

  “You know why the sheriff asked you to stay out here, don’t you, Ed?” Jack asked.

  “Because it’s a high-profile case.” Castillo fumed. “This is a career-maker. I bet they even make a movie about this guy. Bob could have insisted I be in the room.”

  “Come off it, Ed. You know Bob doesn’t care about that stuff.”

  “Then explain it to me, Stratton.”

  “Bob’s holding you in reserve. You’re the backup plan. You’re right—the sheriff could have insisted that you be included. But then he’d be putting all his eggs in one basket. He doesn’t know what kind of an interviewer Thomas is. But if Thomas strikes out, then Morrison still has you.”

  Castillo stopped pacing. He thought for a moment, and the scowl faded from his face. “Yeah, the sheriff knows what a good interviewer I am. That makes sense.”

  Jack’s phone buzzed with a text from Alice. She had gone back to Shawna’s but was still working the case. Frank Thomas had missed an important detail. Alysa Snyder had renewed her wedding vows a year ago tomorrow. The news made Jack’s stomach tighten.

  “You okay, Jack?” Castillo asked.

  “Tell me that Thomas has an officer watching Alyssa Snyder.”

  “He does. Why worry? We caught the guy.” Castillo shrugged. “Besides, Alyssa Snyder didn’t fit your theory. She was married in December.”

  Jack was about to respond when the interview room door opened and Thomas and Morrison led Poole in. The room had a single table, with two chairs on one side and a stool bolted to the floor on the other.

  Poole’s eyes were wild, and he was pale. He was shackled hand and foot with a chain running between them. He stared right at Jack, and his eyes narrowed. Even though Jack was certain he couldn’t see through the window, it was still creepy.

  “I have no idea how that camera got into the dressing room,” Poole said as Morrison sat him down opposite Thomas. “It wasn’t mine.”

  “Hold on a second, Philip.” Morrison sat down at the table and pressed a button on a metal box. “My name is Sheriff Robert Morrison. With me is Special Agent Frank Thomas. I’m speaking with Philip Poole at eleven thirty-five on April second.”

  Morrison read a standard interview opening from a card in a monotone voice, including the Miranda rights. Then he laid the card on the table, leaned back in his chair, and held a hand out toward Philip.

  “Please tell us about the camera in the dressing room of your studio at 1540 Myrtle Street.”

  “I have no idea how that camera got there.” Philip leaned forward and his chains rattled. “I never knew it was there until that woman . . . assaulted me! She did. She punched me in the nose. And then that crazy—”

  “Save it!” Thomas went straight to the hard-guy approach, slamming his hand down on the table. It made Poole jump, and any sense of superiority and confidence melted.

  Jack rolled his eyes as Thomas winced.

  “We found your little peep room,” Thomas continued as he rubbed his hand on his leg. “It was in your office. IT is going through that computer and the one at your apartment. It’s over, Poole.”

  Poole drew in a deep, ragged breath, and he looked at the two men with a wild plea in his eyes. Morrison shifted in his seat, his face unreadable, and Poole suddenly cried out and sagged forward, his head dinging off the metal table.

  His sobs grew into a loud wail. “It isn’t my fault. I . . . I . . .” He raised his tear-stained face and his crazy eyes were back. “It was Ben! Benson Collier. All that stuff is his.”

  Morrison slid a tissue box across the table. “Benson Collier owns the house where we arrested you.”

  “Yeah. All of that stuff is his.” Poole blew his nose.

  “You’re admitting that you and Ben worked together to set up the church?” Thomas asked.

  “Oh, that was a smooth transition,” Castillo grumbled.

  “What church?” Poole asked as he wiped his nose again. Part of the tissue stuck to his chin.

  “On Buck Mountain.” Thomas pulled his seat closer to the table. “The one where you posed the bodies.”

  Poole tried to reach his ear with his finger, but because of the chain, his hand only lifted as high as the side of his face. He flicked the tissue off his chin and looked back and forth between Morrison and Thomas, clearly confused.

  “We found your hidden room,” Morrison said calmly. “We’ve taken fin
gerprints from the keyboard, from the monitors, and from the various cameras you had set up in the neighborhood—including the one at the playground. It was helpful to us that you placed those cameras in weatherproof enclosures—they preserved the prints. And those fingerprints are going to match yours, Philip.”

  Poole started crying again, tears cascading down his face, which was now splotchy and red.

  “Why don’t you do everyone a favor and tell us why you did it. Maybe we can help,” Morrison said.

  “I—I don’t know why I get these . . . urges,” Philip stammered through tears. “I can’t help it. But I never touched any of the kids. I just took pictures. I’m sick. I need help.”

  “This guy didn’t do it,” Jack said. “He’s a pedophile, but he isn’t a killer.”

  “But he’s confessing,” Castillo said.

  “To the pictures. Not to the murders. He doesn’t have a clue about all that.”

  “Is that why you killed the women?” Thomas asked. “Because they grew up?”

  “What?” Poole grabbed more tissues, but his face was now a snotty mess. “Women? I didn’t kill anyone. I just watch, and . . . take pictures. I swear.”

  Jack walked forward and pounded twice on the wall. Everyone in the interrogation room jumped.

  “Someone’s in there!” Poole shouted as he stared wide-eyed at the mirror.

  Jack walked out into the hallway and Thomas stormed out to join him, followed by Morrison.

  “Are you seriously interrupting my interrogation, Stratton?”

  “He didn’t kill anyone, which means the real killer is still at large,” Jack snapped as he texted Alice the news, fingers flying across the screen.

  “We have not determined that yet,” said Thomas.

  “You need to tell the officers guarding Sara McCorkle and Alyssa Snyder to remain on high alert.”

  “There’s no one watching Snyder.” Thomas crossed his arms. “I had to pull him back to look for Poole.”

  “You left her unguarded?” Jack felt the veins on his neck start to throb.

  “She was a low-probability target to begin with. She didn’t even fit your own pattern of the anniversaries, remember?” Thomas said.