“You pay me fifty thousand a year and we knock down sixty thousand a month. You are making a hell of a lot of money and I get practically nothing,” Bobby said, trying to justify his actions.
“Let’s talk about that. Out of that sixty thousand each month I have to pay rent, utilities, insurance, wages, and all the repair and upkeep costs. The list goes on and on. On top of that I pay off the Health Inspector so we can keep this place open and the Fire Inspector so he doesn’t suddenly find something wrong with the wiring. I pay you, the employees, and for all of the food and bar goods. At the end of the month I have maybe seven or eight thousand left. You just stole ten grand. That’s about two month’s profit. That means I would have had to sweat bullets to make payroll and everything else. Don’t you sit there and tell me how well I have it made you frickin moron. You know nothing about business.”
“I didn’t know about all of that,” Bobby replied.
“That’s because you have never been the boss and responsible for everything that goes on. Here is a little fact you should know. Thirty percent of our faithful employees are stealing at any one time. Makes no difference how much I pay them. It isn’t just me. Every business has that going on where money changes hands. Employees steal, it’s a simple fact. Not always money but food, drinks, dishes...shit, you name it and they steal it. They could steal right under your nose and you wouldn’t know it cause you’re so busy looking at the tits in this place. Now hand me the bags,” JJ said.
Bobby handed the two bags back to him. JJ opened the back door and got out, the gun still pressed to the back of Bobby’s head.
“Now, get off my property. If you come within a hundred yards of this place ever again and I see you, you can kiss your ass goodbye. Got it?”
“Yeah. I got it,” Bobby mumbled.
“Get going,” JJ said slamming the door. Bobby started the car and floored it.
The wheels spun, trying to find traction on the wet snow. The tires whined but the car only moved inches. JJ laughed as Bobby finally got the car to slip and slide out of the parking space and fishtail down the road. He started back to the building and suddenly stopped. He just had another great idea. Why not experiment on a man? He smiled. He knew exactly who his next victim was going to be. He sang ‘hit the road Jack and don’t ya come back no more, no more, no more, no more’, as he opened the door to The Cave.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“John,” the Chief said.
Logan rubbed his eyes and rolled over so he could sit up on the side of the bed. It took him a second to recognize his surroundings and get his bearings. He was at the downtown hotel he now called home.
“Chief,” he answered into the phone.
“You probably only have an hour at most. One of our patrol cars found another body. The circumstances appeared about the same so he used a land line to call me at home since he didn’t know how to reach you,” the Chief explained.
“Where?”
“Greenwood. A small park at the end of Starkly Lane.”
“Is it still snowing?”
“Yep. Not as hard, but it is still coming down.”
“Crap. Alright, I’m on my way,” Logan said.
“Hurry. The media will find out about it sooner than we want.”
“Don’t they always?” he said hanging up the phone. He quickly dressed and pulled on his coat as he headed for the Mustang. He soon discovered the disadvantage of such a front end heavy, high powered, sports car. Traction in snow was essentially non-existent.
It took him about three minutes just to get the car to back out of the parking spot he was in. He slipped and slid all the way to I-465. Once he got on that he was able to make relatively decent time. It was the one place the snow crews had been able to clear pretty well. Twenty minutes later he turned off on the Greenwood exit and located Starkly Lane. He followed it to the end and found two police cruisers parked at the end of the block with their lights off. He got out and walked over to the cruisers.
“You Logan?” the officer asked.
“None other,” he said.
“We didn’t want to attract attention. I’ll take you to the body,” the officer said, getting out of the car.
“Just point me in the right direction. I’ll find it.”
“Suit yourself. See that light down there,” he said, pointing down a snow covered sidewalk that was hard to make out from the surrounding landscape.
“I see it,” Logan said.
“Just head that way. She is propped against the ‘Keep off the Grass’ sign,” he said climbing back into his car.
“Thanks,” Logan said, waving and starting down the path. He didn’t have to go far.
Propped against a sign post was a snow covered figure. It was immediately evident that it was a woman. The snow had been falling less for some time now and the body was not nearly as snow covered as the first one. That could only mean that she had been here for a shorter period of time. Logan could see the faint outline of footprints near the girl’s body. He took his notebook out and drew a quick picture of the layout. He would have to check and see if the footprints belonged to one of the cops.
Looking around closely, he noticed a yellowed patch of snow and the same footprints. The cop had gotten out to take a leak and had discovered the body, he surmised. He took out his cell phone and called the morgue but Myler wasn’t in. He dialed his friend at home.
“Myler, Logan,” he said as soon as the phone was picked up.
“Damn it Logan, why do you always call in the middle of the night,” he said sourly.
“It isn’t like I’m interrupting something. You haven’t had any since the turn of the century,” Logan replied.
“You’re so funny I might pee my pants laughing,” Myler said.
“That’s what depends are for,” Logan replied.
“You didn’t just call to insult me did you? What the hell is so important?” Myler growled, losing the small amount of humor he had.
“We have another Jane Doe. Looks like the same MO. I brushed the snow off of her head off and sure enough, there is a cut line around the top. I didn’t remove it to look inside.”
“Ah shit. Where do I need to go?” he asked.
“Just go to the morgue. No one knows about this one except the cops that found the body and it wasn’t broadcast over the network. I’ll get a body bag from one of the cop’s here and transport her myself or have them do it,” Logan said.
“Have you lost your mind? It’s a crime scene. You’re violating about a thousand department rules doing that,” Myler warned him.
“This falls under special circumstances. You let me worry about the rules,” Logan said.
“Except they apply to me as well, you buttwipe. You just make damn sure you don’t ever tell anyone how she got to the morgue. I’ll deny I knew anything about it,” Myler replied.
“Geez-o-pete, you’re even grumpier at night than during the day,” Logan said.
“I wonder why?” Myler replied and slammed down the receiver.
Logan just laughed. Thirty-five minutes later Myler walked into the city morgue and went straight to the autopsy room. The girl lay on the center table. Logan was drinking a Diet Coke. He held up a large coffee when Myler came in.
“Damn good thing,” Myler said, taking the coffee.
“Stitches on her back,” Logan said.
“Did you poke around inside to see if there was Styrofoam inside her?”
“Nah, I waited for you.”
“You’re so considerate,” Myler said grumpily.
“I know,” Logan said just to irritate him further, “Wait until you get a gander at her.”
“Well, if you found it, it can’t be too hard to spot,” Myler said, pushing the door to the autopsy room open.
He pulled back the sheet that Logan had covered her with.
“Good Lord. What the hell?” he exclaimed, stepping closer to the table.
“Something else, huh?” Logan said.
“Indeed it is something else. He picked up a magnifying glass and examined the puncture marks that covered her entire body.
“Geez, she is a human pin cushion,” he said softly.
“Was. What the hell does this all mean?”
“You have one sick bastard running around loose in your city,” Myler replied, “I can’t imagine how many pins must have been pushed into this poor girl.”
Myler rolled her over on her side.
“Two hundred, not counting the top of her head.”
Myler looked at him, “Top of her head? You can’t push a pin into the top of someone’s head. The skin is too thin,”
“Not if you drill a hole first,” Logan replied.
Myler went to the top of the table and bent over with the magnifying glass. He whistled and then sat the magnifying glass down and rubbed his chin. Logan had seen that look before. He was trying to recall something he had read or seen. He knew better than to distract him.
“You know, I read about some doctor that drilled holes in a patient’s head and inserted metal rods to get brainwave readings. Of course the subject died,” Myler said.
“Is he still around?”
“No. This was way back. 1800’s I think.”
“When you were just a boy,” Logan said.
“I saw that coming as soon as I said it,” Myler replied.
Myler was examining her head. He reached over and gently wiggled the top of her head back and forth. It made the same sucking sound as the other Jane Doe’s and it plopped off in his hand. The brain was missing as expected.
“Same cut marks, same careful procedure in removing the brain. It was the same person,” Myler replied.
“Not a copycat. I figured as much when I saw the stitches on her back. Some things are varied but it had to be the same guy,” Logan said.
“Way to go Sherlock,” Myler said, examining the rest of her body.
“Not beaten, like the last one.”
“Not beaten in the normal sense of the word but tortured in a similar manner.
“What the hell does that mean? She has no marks. They sure the hell aren’t like shoe polish. You can’t just wipe them off when you’re done” Logan argued.
“No, you would expect contusions from a beating and there are none. But she felt the same pain I am conjecturing,” he said.
“I’m not following you. How can that be?”
“I don’t have an answer yet. I’ll call some associates that work in a specialized trauma field and see what they say. Maybe they can look into it for me. Right now, I have no definitive answers.”
“That is just peachy,” Logan replied bitterly.
“Isn’t it though? Let’s roll her over and open her up. Might as well make sure the whack-o hasn’t changed his routine too much.”
Logan helped him turn her over on her stomach. The large stitches looked exactly the same to him. Myler cut the first four stitches and spread her back open. Styrofoam peanuts filled the empty cavity.
“Must be selling off their parts,” Myler murmured.
“Why the peanuts?” Logan asked.
“How the hell should I know? It fills the cavity and makes them weigh less I suppose,” he replied.
“Why not just leave her empty?”
“For goodness Logan, how the hell should I know? Crazy people don’t need a reason to do what they do. This guy is definitely in the crazy category,” Myler replied.
Logan had picked up the top section of her skull and was looking at it.
“What are these?” he asked, pointing to some faint marks on the inside of her skull.
“Burn marks maybe. From an electrical shock I would guess. I’ll know more after I run some tests,” Myler said, taking it out of Logan’s hands and walking over to a lighted magnifying glass.
He held the skull under the glass and looked at it for several seconds. He reached over and picked up a thin wire and tried to shove it in one of the holes but it was too big in diameter. He looked around and found a thin piece of filament wire and shoved it through the hole. It poked through the top of the skull.
“They went down into her brain?” Logan said.
“Beats the hell out of me but it would be consistent with my theory. They are irregularly spaced. It looks like someone hand drilled small holes in the top of this poor girl’s head.”
“While she was alive?” Logan asked.
“I don’t know but this is one twisted bastard you are dealing with Logan. You need to get this guy and get him quick,” Myler said.
“We have a body with no physical damage except for some needle pricks and holes drilled in her head. What the hell does that add up to?” Logan said, mostly muttering to himself.
“One sick puppy,” Myler answered.
CHAPTER TWENTY
When Logan arrived back at his hotel he was astonished to see Carrie Brown sitting in the lobby. He tried to sneak past her to the elevators but she spotted him.
“Logan. No use trying to run,” she said rushing up to the elevators.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled at her.
She was wearing jeans, something he had seldom seen her in. She looked good in them. She looked remarkable considering the time of night.
“Looking for you.”
“Damn it Carrie, did you think there might be a reason I am here?”
“Sure. You’re avoiding the press. Your story is a hot one. ‘Girl missing brain’,” she said spreading her hands like a news banner.
“Well it stands to reason that if you are a member of the press and I am trying to avoid them, then I must be trying to avoid you as well,” he said, pushing the button again and again.
“Now come on Logan, aren’t you even a little happy to see me?”
“Can’t say that I am. I’m tired and I just want to take a shower and go to bed,” he said as the elevator doors opened.
He stepped inside quickly and pushed the button but she darted in as well.
“Are you staying here?” he asked.
“Just visiting a friend,” she replied.
He looked at his watch. It was going on 3:30 a.m.. He just looked at her.
“I’ll tell you what,” she said, “I’ll scrub your back.”
“For cripes sakes Carrie, I don’t have time to start this again.
“Start what? I’m just offering to help, that’s all,” she said, trying to look innocent.
“Yeah. Right.”
“Don’t you want to know how I found you?” she asked as the door opened on the ninth floor.
“Not particularly. The fact that you are here tells me all I need to know,” he said, starting off down the hall.
He stopped, turned around, and headed back the other way. She followed along beside him.
“I have a friend that works here. She told me that something was going on and that a lot of cops had been in and out of this place setting up a command post or something. I just knew it had to be you. When you didn’t show up at home, I knew it was,” she said, smiling brightly.
“Brilliant,” he said, stopping at his door and inserting the plastic security card. He opened it and stepped inside, trying to close it behind him.
“You going to just leave me out here?” she said.
“Yes Ms. Brown, I am indeed. I am going to take a shower without your help and then crawl into bed for the rest of what’s left of the night,” he said and closed the door.
He threw his card on the desk and sat down heavily on the bed. He took off his shoes and started to undress. He let his clothes fall in a pile on the floor and went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He looked in the mirror and didn’t particularly like what he saw. He felt old and tired. He needed a vacation. Someplace warm. He stepped into the shower and let the water cascade over his head. He let his mind drift off as the warm water enveloped his body. Suddenly the shower curtain flew open and Carry stepped into the shower with him.
“What the hell. Carrie, ha
ve you lost your damned mind? How in the hell did you get in here?”
“Opened the curtain,” she said, not bothering to cover her nude body.
“I mean my room,” he said, trying to distance himself from her but finding himself looking at her.
“Same friend. It pays to have friends. Now about that back scrubbing?”
“Aw Carrie, you are screwing up everything. How many times do I have to tell you, I am too old for you? This isn’t right,” he said, still looking at her body.
“I guess I have been talking to the wrong guy. He seems to think it’s alright,” she said pointing to his hardening manhood.
“Don’t mind him, he is an idiot,” Logan replied.
“We’ll just have to see how dumb he is,” she said, reaching between his legs. He couldn’t stand it. He pulled her to him and kissed her. Now what have I gotten myself into he wondered, but only for a second.
* * *
Logan lay next to Carrie and watched as she slept. This is what he had been trying to avoid for the past six years. She seemed insistent that they could be more than friends but he felt he was too old for her. It was just wrong. He didn’t want to be like the other old farts trying to hang on to his youth by chasing after young women.
He watched her breasts rise and fall in the dim light. She was even more beautiful that he had imagined but it still felt wrong. She was ten years younger than him at least. Maybe more, since he could never get a straight answer about her age. This would complicate things immensely. She worked for the media and he was a detective. It could only lead to problems. She moved slightly then rolled over on her stomach. From any direction she was a delight to look at. It had been a long time since he had been with a woman and now here he was with one much younger. He laid his hand on her butt and she raised her head, smiled at him and let it fall back on the pillow, her hair spilling across the soft lines of her face.
Damn it Logan, he thought, you need to end this now. It was a lie and he knew it. She had been terrific in bed and she was smart as well. He was sunk and he knew it.
The next morning was a little awkward. She sat on the edge of the bed, naked and watched as he dressed. He felt very self-conscious in the stark morning light. She made no attempt to cover herself up.
The Logan Files - Pain Center: The Logan Files Page 11