Turtle Island

by Caffeine Nights Publishing

  ‘The tooth.’ Georgina said.

  ‘What?’ Leroy didn't take his eyes from the road.

  ‘The tooth...I need to see the tooth that was left in my car, remember?’ There was an excitement to her voice, which over came the tiredness that she felt.

  ‘You need to see this tooth now or in the morning.’ Leroy said knowing which answer he'd prefer to hear.

  For a moment Georgina remained silent while she pondered the possibilities. ‘Now...if you don't mind?’

  ‘I was afraid you'd say that.’ Leroy swung the car around in one easy movement, receiving a blast from the horn of the driver behind until Leroy turned on the blue flashing lights in the grill and on the parcel shelf as they roared along the freeway back toward the police precinct. Georgina began to assemble several threads that could formulate an action plan. Her mind ran over several options but try as she did, everything was still too vague. They needed evidence and clues. They needed more than help if they were to save Rick and his family.

  The e-mail arrived without bells and whistles but he was waiting patiently for it, all the time he was monitoring Jo-Lynn’s progress as the image from the room was relayed to a monitor in front of him. He minimized the image, happy that she wasn’t going to go and spoil things by drowning, and then opened the mail. He could sense Wesley Timms greed; it dripped off the page like hot fat even though it was an electronic screen. Prentice Fortune smiled.

  ‘And the world will know my name.’

  The tooth was small, a white molar with no sign of decay. Georgina held the plastic evidence bag closer to the light. The small evidence box was placed on the table in front of Georgina. Leroy was surprised that any evidence was left at all. The room was cold, lit with a buzzing neon tube that did little to encourage a warm ambience.

  She stated at the tooth, lost for a moment, deep within her own thoughts. ‘This tooth is quite small, could even be that of a small child or a women. Was the tooth ever cross referenced with Karen Fullers dental records?’

  Leroy looked sideways at Georgina O’Neil. ‘I doubt it. Nothing much was done but cover our backs over the Fuller incident.’

  ‘Can you get the dental records?’

  ‘Sure they’re upstairs with the path’ reports.’

  Leroy turned to go back up the stairs from the vault.

  ‘What about Fleisher’s wife and family?’

  ‘Narla Fleisher and Harley.’

  ‘Can we check against them too. I also need the video tape that the killer sent us, you know, the Dalton one.’

  Leroy stopped on the third stair up and shivered. He had a hard time forgetting the Dalton tape. ‘It should be there with the tooth. All the evidence is there. What little there was.’

  Georgina searched through the box. There were piles of 8mm videocassettes shot after the Fleisher incident, a sealed envelope marked Polaroid’s. A knife blade dulled with dried blood but no standard format VHS videocassette. ‘Definitely not here.’

  ‘It’s probably around somewhere...maybe misfiled.’ Leroy continued walking up the steps. ‘I bagged it myself.’

  Georgina looked at the rows and rows of little brown boxes that were identical to the one she was holding.

  ‘Great.’ She placed the box back in its unoccupied slot on a shelf and sat on a table in the centre of the room. She continued to study the small tooth. The surface appeared unblemished, no scratches or indents caused by dentist pliers, no sign of stress caused by the killer’s hammer, unlike the teeth of the other victims, all except Karen Fuller who never was a victim of the killer anyway. Georgina thought for a while. It was possible but highly improbable that there could be more than two people stalking Turtle Island. She was pretty sure that there was only one killer, Charles Fleisher had the misfortune to stumble right through their investigation and while that resulted in his death she could not feel an injustice had been afforded him. That left her still searching for the identity of the man labelled by the media as the Dentist. She wanted another viewing of the videotape that had been given to Barbara Dace. Recalling that name gave her the whereabouts of at least one copy of the tape. The TV studio had been showing carefully edited pieces, so they must have a copy.

  Leroy walked back down the stairs to the evidence room. He held a manila folder between his fingers, rocking it back and forth within the rhythm of his walk.

  ‘Dental records of one, Karen Fuller. I have run a check with the Fleisher’s dentist for their records.’ He handed the folder to Georgina.

  She opened it and took out the history chart.

  ‘They’re pretty comprehensive, go way back.’ Leroy said having briefly flicked through the records on the way down in the lift.

  ‘This lady had great teeth, not one filling, not one extraction.’

  ‘I want this tooth tested and checked against every other person involved in this case, no matter how tenuous the link, everyone from Fuller to Fleisher and his family… to, to.’ Georgina began to think of all the sources from where the tooth may have come.

  ‘To little Ray.’ Leroy finished her sentence.

  Georgina nodded. ‘Get all the records together...Is there a reliable dentist, police surgeon, anyone local with the means to do the work fast?’

  Now it was Leroy’s turn to think. ‘A lot of records are going to be on various lists, police, FBI, even my dentist on the Island. She is pretty dammed good, quite a techno junkie too. Her practice is outta Star Wars, lasers, microscopes, computers...yeah she’s pretty good.’

  ‘Okay, can you get that together? I gotta go visit Barbara Dace.’

  Before he could complain, Leroy was watching Georgina moving swiftly up the stairs and out of the small storeroom.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  She heard the door being opened and could already feel his presence in the room with her.

  Jo-Lynn’s neck ached from straining to keep it above the cold water. Only briefly did she feel any sense of warmth, which was when she urinated. The pitch dark hid her shame and the fact that she enjoyed the sensation of warmth it briefly gave to her legs. She cried out for help through the tape around her mouth. Her words unintelligible but she hoped their desperation would not be lost. She felt hands grab her shoulders and powerfully lift her upright. He was right in front of her. How she wished she had a leg free, an arm free, something, anything with which she could strike out with. She wanted to tear this mother’s face off. Gouge out his eyes, and even then she would not be happy. She could hear more tape being pulled away from a roll. The crackle of the glued surface as it freed itself from its backing, quite distinctive, then she could feel it being wrapped around and around her head, over her eyes, the tape being pushed down securely around the bridge of her nose.

  ‘I am going to turn the light on and take the tape from your mouth to feed you. Promise me that you won’t try to scream when I take the tape away from your mouth. If you do scream I will kill you.’ The voice was whispered.

  Jo-Lynn felt something sharp pressed against her neck and guessed it was a knife.

  She mumbled through the tape gag. The thought of having the tape removed from her mouth relieved her almost beyond measure. She felt fingers peeling the corner of the tape, gently. As the carpet tape pulled back, cold air rushed into the pores of her skin as tiny hairs were extracted, stuck to the glue. Jo-Lynn stretched her mouth, exercising it after the confinement of the adhesive gag. She heard a light-pull switch being tugged and could just see the flickering strobe of a fluorescent tube from a small gap under her taped eyes. Her throat was dry but she needed to speak to her captor, ask him why he was doing this? She wanted to know more than anything how her son and husband were. She tried to swallow.

  ‘...I...I need to know, How my son is?’ Her voice croaked.

  ‘No talking.’

  The smell of tomato soup being waved under Jo-Lynn's nose at first nearly made her retch but as a spoon was placed against her lips she realised how hungry she was. Her lips parted and the soup en
tered her mouth, lubricating her throat. She felt something cold pressed to her mouth, the smell strong. She found it hard to believe that what she tasted was only bread and butter. Jo-Lynn took a bite and while swallowing chanced speaking once more.

  ‘How is my son, how's Ray? Please tell me, I promise I will be quiet if you tell me.’

  ‘Your boy is alive for the moment. My grudge is not against you or your boy, but your husband has to pay for what he has done.’ The voice echoed in the room, its slow distorted tone as chilling as the water around Jo-Lynn's knees.

  Another spoonful of soup.

  The voice continued. ‘I promise neither of you will suffer, as long as you do as you are told.’

  More bread.

  She continued to eat in silence, not even sure if what she was eating was poisoned but the fact that she was being fed led her to believe that she was probably going to be in for a long stay and the fact that she was not allowed to see his face gave her fresh hope. From under the tape she could just see her legs, she wanted him to finish feeding her and hoped He would leave the light on, so that she could try to look around the room from under the tiny gap in the tape. Jo-Lynn took another mouthful of bread.

  Now it was Wesley Timms turn to watch. He watched with glee as the counter started to move. The site was now live and with a few well placed e-mails was already starting to pay dividends both for him and the oh so ready advertisers with their little link buttons taking the ever eager customers to their corporate sites. Of course it had to be discreet, but Wesley was ingenious when it came to being devious. He watched Jo-Lynn being spoon-fed soup while on the phone to a major supermarket.

  ‘Just think product placement…it’s no worse than the movies, where we are spoon fed adverts throughout the feature.’

  The line went dead.

  ‘You win some, you lose some.’ Wesley dialled the next number on his list.

  Georgina borrowed Leroy's car hoping he was in no hurry to get home tonight. The memory of the small roads around the Island returned to her as she drove, and after only one mistake, Georgina found herself pulling up in the drive of Barbara Dace’s house.

  The reporter's four-wheel drive was parked outside the double garage, Georgina was pleased that it wasn't going to be a wasted journey. She rang the bell, a light shone through the frosted glass panel in the door. A small visible puff of air escaped Georgina's lips, highlighted in the soft yellow glow emanating through the door. Winter was approaching, even down as far south as she was, though the temperature compared to Portmorion was mild by any means. A silhouetted figure blotted out the light through the door as it approached. Georgina could tell from her actions that Barbara Dace was tying a dressing robe. A brighter light suddenly illuminated the passage and a voice.

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Mrs Dace, its Agent O’Neil.’ Georgina pressed her identity badge against the frosted glass, hoping that its close proximity to the surface would render it legible.

  ‘Hang on a moment.’ Barbara replied, stopping before the door to check her appearance in the mirror. The importance of looking her best especially when confronted by younger, attractive women was paramount to Barbara, though she would not like anyone other than herself to know just how important. She tidied her hair with her fingers, pushing it back and wiped the slightly smudged lipstick from the edge of her lips, reapplying a fresh coat from an emergency stick that was housed in a drawer in a small table under the mirror. Barbara opened her dressing gown slightly at the top, exposing a fraction more cleavage, having paid for a little re-upholstery, she was dammed if she wouldn't use every tool in her armoury. Satisfied; she opened the door.

  Georgina stood there, warrant card in hand.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Dace.’

  ‘This is a surprise.’

  ‘I'm sorry it's so late.’ Georgina apologised, stepping in to the threshold of the house, ‘but I really need a favour.’ Georgina got the sense that she had interrupted something, though she wasn't sure what.

  It was a little after nine o' clock but the reporter was dressed for bed, or undressed as Georgina could clearly tell from the nature of the thin robe that failed in discretion.

  ‘I was...I was just about to take a bath.’ Barbara explained, reading the Detective's expression. ‘So what can I do to help you?’

  A noise from upstairs confirmed Georgina's suspicion. A low clunk followed by a creaking as somebody crossed the landing. Georgina watched Barbara's expression but it was clear that she was going to ignore the noise and was comfortable with the knowledge that she knew the source. Barbara held out an arm and guided the Detective into the lounge.

  ‘So, what brings you back?’

  ‘You don't know?’ Georgina could not hide the surprise from the tone in her voice.

  ‘Oh, I know, I just wanted to see what you knew.’

  Georgina was too tired for mind games and cut to the point. ‘I need a copy of the tape that was sent to you during the Fleisher case.’ Georgina sat down; her eyes followed the invisible footsteps above her head.

  ‘Drink...Coffee, Tea?’

  Georgina shook her head

  ‘I don't have a copy here at home, come to the studio tomorrow, I can duplicate you one.’ Barbara studied the detective for a moment. ‘Is that it, only my bath is going cold?’

  ‘I'll be over in the morning.’ Georgina stood, a creak above once more. ‘Enjoy your ...bath.’ Georgina smiled and left.

  He waited until the door was closed and appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a large towelling gown.

  ‘She gone?’ He asked.

  Barbara smiled, ‘She won't be back. Not tonight anyway.’

  As Barbara Dace ascended the stairs, she let her robe fall open. She enjoyed watching him watch her. Tonight they would make a home movie together as they made love and then watch it after, before making love again.

  It was a little before ten o'clock when Georgina pulled up outside the police station. She took a slight diversion and stopped off at the house where Charles Fleisher and Karen Fuller were killed. There were no lights in the house. Six months later it remained an empty shell, a shrine to the dead, devoid of life but retaining the lingering scent of death. Images of that night played through her mind like a movie. Memories that were always going to be close to the surface, just waiting for the dust to be wiped away and dragged out like an old photo album or video cassette. She could see the look of horror on Karen Fuller's face, the almost inevitable acceptance of her fate as Fleisher's writhing body thrashed around with the knife. Georgina walked up to the door but it was locked. Black and yellow tape still sealed the entrance, even though the case was now just a part of Turtle Island's history.

  Georgina peered through the dirt-encrusted pane of glass that allowed light into the main room. But there was no light tonight, barely any moonlight and the house just sat there as a solemn, malevolent reminder to its past and her past. She wasn’t sure why she was there, maybe it was just to get the scent back into her nostrils, maybe it was part of her exorcising the past. On the way back to the car she wondered how the Fleisher’s daughter and wife were doing.

  The melancholic mood prevailed as her mind skipped to Korjca's fresh, slightly rounded face. She knew as she left the house that this time there was to be no mistakes. No more chances for the killer to cause the small community or her pain.

  ‘Thanks for coming back. I thought I was going to have to get a cab home.’ Leroy was sitting behind his desk with his feet crossed and firmly planted on its over-polished surface. He was holding a manila folder.

  Georgina offered no apology or excuse. ‘So?’

  ‘So...’ Leroy began. ‘I'm waiting on a fax from my orthodontist. She was not best pleased at being disturbed during the evening but I used my charm.’

  ‘And she's still helping?’ Georgina mocked.

  ‘I am a very charming man. I asked her to check her records to see if she treated either the Fleisher family or the Montoya’s.’

&n
bsp; As he spoke the fax bleeped and paper began to un-spool, being vomited outwards.

  The binary cacophony audible in the background as letters transferred from code to something more legible on the shiny paper. Georgina sat on the edge of the desk next to Leroy's feet.

  ‘Mrs Dace is having an affair. I think I interrupted something steamy.’

  ‘Yuk, old people having sex.’ Leroy rattled a pencil between his teeth as he talked. ‘Anyway, what makes you so sure?’

  ‘There was someone upstairs, bumping around in the dark. We both heard him, but Dace never flinched, pretended she heard nothing, there was no car, hers was on the drive. I guess his was in the garage out of prying eyes. So it's someone she doesn't want exposed.’

  ‘I know who it is. The old dog’ Leroy said with a mischievous smile.

  The sound of the fax ending transmission stopped Leroy. He half turned his body and tore the thin paper from the machine.

  ‘So?’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘Don't tease, Leroy. Who is it?’

  Leroy was reading the information on the fax. ‘ She was the local school dentist, so she treated both Harley and Ray. The tooth doesn’t match either of their records. She says that the tooth, a molar, was showing some signs of decay and had a high level of discolouring probably associated with eating high concentrations of one particular food. She has no records for Max Dalton. That was a long shot anyway. I would have been surprised if she had. Dalton had only been in the area for less than six months before he was abducted and killed.’

  ‘I know this tooth hold's the answer to a lot of questions. It was placed in my car as a tease, for some perverted purpose.’

  ‘Or maybe whoever is doing this, placed it there to waste our time, throw us off the scent.’