“For heaven’s sake, don’t do this JJ. Please stop, please, please.”
“Sorry. It’s too late for that,” he said and sent the tip of the drill through the thin epidermal layer and into the bone. Blood gushed out but JJ knew what to expect. Unfortunately for Bobby, he didn’t know what to expect and tried to violently shake himself loose.
“Stop it Bobby. I know this doesn’t hurt all that bad. You’re just freaking out about a little blood. It’s no big deal. It will stop in a few minutes unless you cause me to slip. I suggest you stay still or else it will be really painful,” JJ said.
“Please stop, please…please. JJ, I beg you. This is inhumane.”
JJ didn’t bother to reply, he just started in on the second hole. Bobby screamed but it was to no avail. JJ had tuned him out and was concentrating on his work.
“You like music Bobby?”
“What? What the hell are you talking about? Music? You’re certifiable you know that?”
“Ray Charles. He could really sing don’t you think?”
“You damn freak,” Bobby yelled. His yelling turned to screams as JJ started another hole.
* * *
“You let it out?” the Captain shouted.
“I had to. Did you listen to what I said? They would have already known and made the news fit what the readers want. At least they have facts now rather than supposition,” Logan said.
“Facts? Since when have facts ever gotten in the way of a good story? This is going to turn into a three ring circus. We will have every network in the country coming down on us, second guessing everything we do.”
“Well, I have to be the ringmaster. I don’t like it any more than you do but it had to be done this way.”
“I have to inform the Commissioner. You know what he will want to do.”
“A taskforce” they said in unison.
“Yes, a damned taskforce. You will have to head it up of course but it will only slow you down, I’m afraid,” the Captain said.
“I know. I realized that as soon as the second girl was found murdered with the same MO. It had taskforce all over it,” Logan replied.
“Well, you got that much right. You might as well start picking your team. It will save you some time later. Keep it small enough to be effective but big enough to make it look like we are really behind the taskforce concept. The Commissioner will eat it up.”
“Will do boss. Has Sorenson been reassigned?”
“He is still on desk duty until the shrink releases him for active duty,” Dixon replied.
“Good. I want him. You get the shrink to back off and I’ll take him as my second in command.”
“Think he is ready?”
“He was ready the next day in his head. Maybe his heart is heavy but his head is on straight,” Logan said.
“Okay, I’ll take care of the shrink. How many do you think?”
“Five.”
“Good. That sounds like an acceptable number. The Commissioner will go for it if I sell it as a fast moving force.”
“Do what you have to. Any more than that and we will get bogged down with bickering and positioning,” Logan replied.
“Get out of here and get your team together. I’ll call the Commissioner and give him a heads up so he can make it look like he thought of it.”
“Like always.”
Logan went directly to see Sorenson.
“Hey guy, how they hangin’?”
“Low and inside,” he quipped back.
“Better than high and outside,” Logan shot back.
“What brings you here? Don’t you know I’m unbalanced, nuts, crazy, out of my head? It all has something to do with my mother, I think,” Sorenson said.
“Been spending time with the talking head I see?”
“Yep. I thought I was pretty normal until he got hold of me. Guess I was only fooling myself.”
“They have a tendency to make you feel that way. I don’t actually buy into any of that crap. Look, we’ve found a second murder victim with the same MO. We have a real nutcase on the loose. So,…”
“Taskforce,” Sorenson said and smiled.
Logan liked working with Sorenson. Something about his sense of humor combined with his rugged looks all worked together, that and the fact that they were the same age. He stood a good five inches taller than Logan and sported a scraggily mustache and goatee.
“The Commish needs to change tactics, doesn’t he?”
“Creature of habit, no doubt about it,” Sorenson replied.
“So you in?”
“Can’t, got desk duty,” he said, playing with his pencil.
“Now do you really think I would be sitting here if I didn’t have a way around that little issue?”
“I figured you did. I just wanted to yank your chain a bit.”
“Consider it yanked. You will be my second. You up for that?”
“Hell yes. Sitting here is going to make me really crazy. I have dreams of using an AK on all the shrinks in the department.”
“Oh, don’t say that too loud. They may actually think you mean it,” Logan replied, looking around the room quickly.
“You’re sure I’m kidding?”
Logan just laughed and said, “We need to pick three others. Five is the magic number.”
“Carson for sure. He works a lot like we do, by the numbers unless you are against the wall.”
“I agree. Carson is a good man.”
“How about Ed?”
“Morse?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think so. He is going through a divorce and is having a lot of personal problems. Good cop, just bad timing.”
“Damn. I didn’t know. Bill Harold?”
“Good. He will fit right in. One more,” Logan said.
They were both lost in thought when a young, good looking cop came up to the desk.
“Can I help you?” Sorenson asked.
“Name’s Brandon Miles.”
“Congratulations Brandon Miles. Why do I care?”
“You’re Sorenson aren’t you?”
Sorenson picked up the nameplate on his desk and looked at it, “By golly, you’re right. You must be the new detective,” he said.
Logan was smiling. The razzing had begun.
“Look man, I was told to report to you.”
“And you did. Nice job. Got your transfer papers?”
Miles slapped his forehead, “Was I supposed to keep those? Shit. I gave them to my wife to wrap the trash in,” he said.
Both Sorenson and Logan stifled a laugh.
“Not to worry, they keep a set in the ‘Dumb Shit Room’, just down the hall,” Sorenson replied with a straight face.
“I thought this was that place,” Miles shot back.
Logan and Sorenson both laughed and Miles smiled brightly.
“Okay Miles, you’re gonna do just fine here. Now give me your papers.”
Miles handed the thick packet over and Sorenson opened them and started reading through them. Every once in a while he would look up at Miles and then continue reading.
Logan was sizing him up while Sorenson was reading. Baby face, dark blond hair and blue eyes that seemed to be smiling were his most noticeable features. He reminded Logan of a young version of Paul Newman.
When Sorenson was finished he said to Logan, “You might want to look at some of this.”
Logan took the folder and started reading.
“Your lips move,” Miles said.
“What?”
“Your lips, they move when you read,” he repeated.
“You a wiseass Miles?”
“Just an observation.”
“Observe this,” Logan said, giving him the finger.
Logan read the rest of the file, trying not to move his lips but it was hard. He had always done that. Miles wasn’t the first person to mention it. He wasn’t sure of the significance of that particular character trait but people seemed to feel the need to mention it.
&nb
sp; “How old are you Miles?”
“Twenty-nine. Well, thirty next month.”
“Not a bad record. Glad to have you aboard. Welcome,” Logan said.
“Sorry, who are you?”
“John Logan.”
“The John Logan?”
“Is there another?”
“Man, you’re like a legend. Everyone knows about you. Shit, I can’t believe I’m going to be working here with John Logan,” he said.
“Are you yanking my chain? Is this one of those bullshit jobs to suck us in?” John said.
“No, really. I am genuinely glad to meet you. I’ve read all of your case files. You are like the Captain American of the detectives,” Miles said.
“If he is messing with me I’ll have him transferred to meter maid duty,” Logan said to Sorenson.
“Hey, no foolin’? I swear.”
Logan never saw himself as anything but a cop trying to do the best he could. Awards and citations meant little or nothing to him. In fact, he tried to avoid such honors.
“We’ll get you squared away with armament, personnel and then I’ll take you to see the Captain. He wants to meet each new person as soon as possible.”
“Sounds good to me. I brought my piece,” Miles said.
“Good. Let’s go get that registered first. You have a backup as well I assume?”
“Yep,” he said, patting his ankle.
“Then let’s get this show on the road,”.
“John,” I would really like to talk to you when I get all checked in,” Miles said.
“I’ll be around.”
Miles shook Logan’s hand and Sorenson led him down the hall to armament.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
A throng of microphones were pointed at the Commissioner. The Captain stood next to him just a step behind. Further back, Logan, Sorenson, Carson, Harold, and the new detective, Miles, stood. Cameras clicked and recorders were switched on. It was cold standing on the steps of the station house but the Commissioner had insisted so there they were.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I know it’s cold so I will keep this brief. As you reported earlier today, the body of a second young woman has been discovered. Our initial investigation points to the same perpetrator. Enough similarities exist to leads us to believe that both murders were committed by the same person. We have decided to form a taskforce to deal with the person or persons responsible for committing the heinous acts. This taskforce which I initiated will have the full support of the department behind it. All resources will be available to them until we bring this sadistic murderer to justice. We will simply not stand for someone terrorizing the good citizens of this city. We will act swiftly and leave no stone unturned until this monster is behind bars. Captain Dixon has chosen the members of this taskforce and will now introduce them,” the Commissioner said turning to the Captain.
Thank you Commissioner. I actually only picked the detective to head up the taskforce. He is a man you are all familiar with and one that doesn’t like to talk publicly,” the Captain said, bringing a smattering of laughter from the reporters who knew Logan.
“John, as much as you hate it, come on up here and introduce your taskforce,” the Captain said.
John Logan really did hate this kind of thing. It wasn’t the speaking that bothered him. It was the stupid questions that always followed.
He stepped to the microphone and said, “I picked four of the best men the department has to offer. Each was selected for his expertise in investigating this kind of serial killer.”
Logan had debated with himself before labeling the murderer a ‘serial killer’ but finally decided that it was best to call it like it is.
“First is Detective first grade, Sorenson. Most of you locals know of the past extraordinary accomplishments of Detective Sorenson. Next is Detective Leroy Carson. You have probably followed his stellar career here at this precinct as well. Next to him is Detective Bill Harold. As you know Bill was the one who broke the case of the child pornography ring operating out of our city. Our last member is Detective Brandon Miles. Brandon may be new to our precinct but certainly not to police work. So, there they are. I can tell you that there is no more dedicated team than this one behind me. We intend to get this guy off the street and behind bars where he belongs. Thank you,” Logan said and stepped back.
The commissioner stepped to the microphone.
“This is a first rate team and I am confident that they will make rapid progress on this case. When you have this much experience it is just a matter of time before we break this case. Now, I will answer any questions you have or let the detectives answer.”
What Logan had feared most began to happen immediately. Reporters started yelling out questions. Logan firmly believed you had to control them. When they started yelling questions he would simply stop the press conference until they got the picture. The Commissioner never seemed to learn this lesson. Reporters started yelling out questions. It was impossible to make out what was being asked above the conglomeration of voices. Logan watched for a minute then stepped to the microphones.
He banged on them causing a high pitched screech. Several reporters put their hands over their ears. He just stood there, looking out at the crowd. Finally the shouting began to die down.
“People, listen. For you who are from out of town, we do things a little differently here,” Logan said, “We will answer questions as long as the following rules are followed. One; no yelling out questions. Two; Don’t just ask a question to hear yourself talk. Three; if we say no comment that is what we mean. Fourth, and perhaps most important of all, no stupid questions that have already been addressed. Now, having said that, I will take the first question.
The reporter from CNBC yelled out, “Do you have a suspect yet?” Logan ignored him and pointed to another reporter.
“Detective Logan, do you have a prime suspect at this point.”
“No. No one in particular. Yes,” he said pointing to someone else.
“Do you have a tip line set up?”
“Yes. The number and web address will be handed out at the end of this session,” Logan said.
“Is a reward offered?”
“Just the standard tip line amount,” Logan replied.
“Do you know the name of the first girl who was murdered?”
“Sorry, no. She is still Jane Doe. We have not turned up anything to identify her at this point. Tracking missing persons takes a while so we are still hopeful that we will be able to put a name with her soon.”
“Can you comment on whether they were raped?”
“We have no definitive proof but it appears that they have not been sexually assaulted. The ME has found no evidence to lead to that conclusion,” he replied.
“Is there any common thread between the girls?” Carrie Brown asked. John looked down at her.
“There may be a connection but we have no proof of that as yet. Of course our taskforce just started and we do have several leads to run down. We will keep the media informed as we progress,” he said.
She winked at him and he started to blush. He was saved by the next question. He continued to field questions for another twenty minutes and then called a halt to the proceedings.
“Thank you for your interest. I will let you know when the next briefing will be. In the meantime, please don’t ask to speak to the taskforce members. They won’t tell you anything and you will be taking valuable time from the investigation,” he said and immediately turned away from the microphone.
Carrie was still standing there as most of the others started to leave.
“Got a second, detective?” she asked sweetly.
“I’m kind of busy but I can give you a few minutes, Ms. Brown.”
“You are just too kind,” she said, smiling.
“What is it Carrie? I really do need to get back to the team,” he said when no one else was around.
“Two things. Who is Miles and why is he on the team?” she asked.
“He seems young. How old is he?”
“About your age I should think, if you would ever give me a straight answer,” Logan said.
“Are you coming back to the hotel tonight?”
“Yeah. It is still going to be the command center. I’m moving the entire team in so we can debrief without kibitzing.”
“I still have my key. Mind if I show up?”
“Oh, now you ask permission. It’s a little late for that. I don’t see how I can stop you from doing what you want to do,” he said rolling his eyes.
“So that’s a yes?”
He looked at her a moment, “That’s a yes, wench. I would like to be with you.”
She just smiled and turned and walked away. Logan wasn’t going to fight it she thought. Now if they could just stay friends if it all went south.
* * *
The five men sat in the conference room at the hotel. Plates with food and half full coffee and coke cups were strewn all over the place. Five men in a room with food and drink is a sure recipe for serious trash. Miles was squeezing on a tennis ball, which he seemed to do when he was thinking. Carson was making doodles on a pad of paper and Harold was sitting with his legs propped up on the table, hands behind his head, looking at the ceiling.
“Here are the pictures I found in Donna Lander’s desk drawer,” Logan said, spreading them out on the table. They passed them around from person to person.
“Geez,” Miles said, “how do you get into a position like that?”
“Looks doggone painful to me,” Carson replied.
“She certainly isn’t modest. She is spread open about as far as possible. Those ropes look like they are really tight. Do you think she posed for these or was forced to?” Harold asked.
“Posed probably,” Logan said.
“What makes you say that?” Miles asked. “It doesn’t look like she is having all that much fun to me.”
“Because I found them in her desk. If she had been forced, do you think she would have kept them around? No, she is into this kind of thing. I also found these matches,” he said, tossing it on the table.
The Logan Files - Pain Center: The Logan Files Page 14