A Thousand Cuts

by A N Drew

  "Thank you, I'm good for now."

  "I wish I hadn't had to contact you but..."

  Barnes hesitated.

  "You were talking about visiting the park?” I wondered if there was a Mrs. Barnes, and if so, where she was? If Mrs. Barnes appeared, she might elbow her husband and prompt him to continue. I did often find the older witnesses rambled on a bit as if it was a social call.

  "Oh yes, sorry. It's all so disturbing, I suppose I've been trying not to think about it, then that Crimestoppers thing on the telly brought it all back. Yes, the man’s at that park quite a bit. I've seen him a few times, and there was just something about him that wasn't quite right."

  "In what way?” I said after a pause in the conversation, where I took out a notebook and pen to take a few notes.

  "Well, for a start, he never had children with him, so I guess he wasn't a father, but he seemed a bit too interested in the kids, calling them over. I saw the red truck and overheard him asking some of the children if they'd like to come and see the puppies he had. That set my alarm bells off straight away." Barnes sighed and rubbed his chin.

  I decided to stay quiet, attempting to encourage him to talk with an, "Mm, hm.” Then, I leaned back in the chair and waited, my pen paused over the notebook.

  Barnes cleared his throat. "He even approached my grandkids, which was the final straw. I approached him and asked his name. He didn't want to give it at first, until I glanced at his vehicle registration, wrote it down and asked why he seemed to be at the park so often when he didn't have kids in tow. He gave me a foul look and turned away to get back in the car. Never did answer me. I thought I’d scared him away from the park, but obviously, he came back."

  I breathed out slowly. "And when was that, the time you spoke to him, Kevin?"

  "About a week ago, maybe longer. I did call at the time but never heard back. So I called again."

  I recoiled. That was right around the time Jessica went missing. " You called before?”

  “I did, yes”

  “Do you remember who you spoke to?”

  “Sorry I don’t”

  “Okay, I’ll see what I can find out. I don’t suppose you wrote down the registration details? Do you still have them?"

  "Yeah. I do." Barnes smiled, sure of himself as he sat back in the armchair. "I kept them in the kitchen drawer just in case I might ever need them. Then I saw the description on the news last night, and my blood turned cold. I wonder if I should have followed up more, although the guy did drive away after I’d made my note. I guess I wasn't intimidating enough.” He dropped his head.

  "You did the right thing." Finally, I had a scumbag in the area, a place to start. "If you could get those details, that would be really helpful,” I said. "Do you remember his name?"

  "I'll never forget it. Marlin Jones. An unusual name. Hang on a minute, I'll go find the bit of paper where I wrote it down; won't be long.” He pushed his hands down on his thighs, levered himself up, and walked out of the room.

  Marlin Jones. Maybe this creep could lead me to the killer, or maybe the killer was Marlin Jones himself. I’d also be interested in who took Barnes call, and then promptly ignored it. Either way, I'd have a talk to Jones about why he hung around children's parks and playgrounds.

  Kevin arrived back to the living area with a crumpled piece of paper in his hands. "Here it is,” he said, and handed it to me, chest out. "He definitely has the vehicle you’re looking for. I'm surprised he went back to the park, considering I saw him and talked to him, and remember what he looks like."

  I took the piece of paper from him, and rubbed at a corner with my thumb, before folding it and tucking it into a compartment within the notebook. "Thank you, you did the right thing." Barnes stared at me, the colour drained from his face.

  "Don't be too hard on yourself; you could have just let him go, but you relied on your instincts. Unfortunately, with characters like these, deterrents and warnings aren't usually enough. I'll pay him a visit and find out what's going on."

  Barnes stood up, brushing down his pants and taking a deep breath. "The thing is, that little girl that was taken from the park, that could have been one of my grandchildren. It worries me that people like this are out there, hanging around parks and kids’ play areas."

  I walked slowly back towards the front door. Barnes opened it and paused in the hallway. I reached out and shook his hand. "I'll be in touch. The information has really helped. Thanks again."

  Barnes murmured quietly, and I headed back towards my car. I intended to get back to my desk and look up Marlin Jones to find out where he lived and follow up. I unlocked the car, got in, and started it up.

  The drive was short, and for a moment, the sun shone brightly.

  I thought more about Jones. I'd need to keep myself in check with him; I'd already been pulled into line over the argument with the journalist, so another outburst and Hicks would be forced into a situation where she'd need do something a bit more drastic and risk the problem falling back onto her.

  Staying calm in the face of a sadistic paedophile didn't come easily, but I'd do it. I arrived back at the station, and although I didn't think it was all that easy to read me, Jerry Wallace looked up and smiled as I arrived back at my desk. "Got a new lead then, huh?"

  "Something like that,” I mumbled as I threw my jacket on the empty desk beside me and dropped my wallet and keys into a desk drawer.

  I opened my notebook, removed the piece of paper Barnes had given me and clicked on the mouse to activate the computer. I'm coming for you, Marlin Jones, ready or not.

  I opened the VicRoads program and typed in the vehicle registration details. Details for Marlin Jones flashed up on the screen after a few seconds. I sucked in a breath and stared, unable to move.

  "Of all the nerve,” I whispered.

  Marlin Jones lived on the same street as the Holmes family.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I sat in the car outside the home of Marlin Jones for a minute, trying to compose myself before I knocked on the front door. It looked exactly as I’d imagined it; a rundown old home with green peeling paint on the exterior and fence, overgrown weeds surrounding a rusted old car dumped in the front yard.

  My right hand paused over the key, ready to pull it out of the ignition. I closed my eyes, took a breath, and removed it. I'd need to keep my cool with this guy, no matter how much I wanted to cause him pain, the same pain he'd quite possibly given the Holmes family.

  I got out of the car, closed the car door and locked it. I stood on the footpath outside, waiting for some sign that he had seen me, the twitching of curtains or the opening of a door.

  Nothing.

  I walked towards the gate, pushing it with my knee until eventually it gave way and swung open with force, banging back against the short brick wall. I looked around at the tiny garden, its grass knee-high. The place looked like a drug den, little to no maintenance work done, and no care for the house whatsoever. I headed up to the rotten wooden porch, walking carefully up the steps. I knocked on the frame of the faded security door with its red paint worn off, took a step back, and waited.

  After about a minute, I reached forward to knock again, when I heard movement inside. The door opened. There was next to no light inside what looked to be a dingy hallway. In front of me stood a man whose mere appearance repulsed me, almost reptilian in appearance, and looking very much like the stereotypical paedophile. Acne scars dotting across his cheeks also made me think he was using hard drugs. Thin, red-haired and possibly in his forties, the guy chewed gum loudly. He hadn't shaved in a few days.

  "Marlin Jones?” I said.

  "Who's asking?” he replied, leaning against the doorway.

  I flashed my badge. "Detective Sergeant Jack Fletcher, Melbourne Homicide, got a few questions."

  Jones' eyes widened, and he tried to push the door closed, but he wasn't quick enough. I hoped to hell he didn't run, I wasn't in the mood for a foot pursuit. I shoved my boot inside the
door frame and jammed it open. The bastard kept trying to push it closed.

  "Open the door."

  "Got a warrant?"

  "Do I need one?” I said through gritted teeth.

  Jones gloated for a second too long, and I pushed harder, shuffling closer towards the doorway before he relented and opened the door a little.

  ***

  "Do you visit the local park often? You know, the one where little girls hang out?"

  "What are you trying to say?"

  "What are you not saying?"

  "Nothing, I don't like cops turning up asking questions that's all."

  "The only people that don't like cops asking questions, are ones that have something to hide." My skin crawled and I brushed my right hand down my left forearm.

  "I don't think I like your tone." My chest burned. If Jones was trying to irritate me, his methods were working so far. I took a deep breath, dropping my shoulders.

  "Too bad,” I said.

  "Look, what's this all about?"

  "The murder of a little girl.” I fumbled in my pocket for a picture of Jessica Holmes. "Know anything about this girl?” I shoved the picture inches from his face and watched as he flinched.

  "Of course, I don't. What is this?" Jones stared at the floor.

  "This is a child murder enquiry, one I think you know more about than you're telling." Jones didn't look up.

  I thought about the crime scene, about the body of Jessica Holmes alone in Sherbrooke National Park, about the cuts and burns littered across her torso. Rather than stare at Jones, I fixed my gaze on the wall beside him and worked on carefully controlling my voice and tone. "Jessica Holmes was found brutalised, tortured and raped, and then dumped in a forest like garbage. She played in the park nearby, and witnesses mentioned they saw you speaking to her the day she went missing. Are you still going to tell me you don't know anything about this?"

  "No, I can't help you." Jones stared at me, his face covered in a thin film of sweat. I couldn’t help feeling this man’s dirty appearance probably reflected a dirty, perverted mind.

  "So, you've never spoken to Jessica Holmes? Please, look again at this picture to jog your memory.” I hadn't lowered my hand and continued to hold her picture in front of Jones' nose. "Have you ever met this girl, spoken to her at the park?"

  Jones paused, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Can't say I remember her. I can't help you."

  Heat rose in my face, and I breathed slowly, attempting to control my anger. Marlin Jones wasn't about to admit to anything.

  "Is that your vehicle parked in the driveway, Mr. Jones?” I asked.

  "Yes, it is."

  "A witness placed you at the local park, standing beside that vehicle on the day Jessica Holmes went missing. You asked her if she'd like to come and see some puppies. Can you tell me about that?”

  I dropped my hand and placed the photograph carefully back into my jacket pocket. I concentrated on keeping my tone calm, but the ache in the back of my throat, and the heat in my face weren't going anywhere.

  "I'm sorry; I don't know what you're talking about.”

  "You're saying you weren't at the park, and you never met Jessica Holmes? Is that correct?” I said, keeping my voice low.

  "That's right,” said Marlin Jones. "Look, I have to go now.”

  "One last question before I leave. If I do a search against your name, will I find any criminal history? Crimes against children, child pornography, anything like that?"

  Jones wouldn't look at me and let out a sigh. "Look, like I said, I really gotta go." I peered through the doorway attempting to get a look inside. “I’d like a quick look around before I go, if you don’t mind,” I said. I wanted to see how he lived, whether anything looked out of place, or anything locked away. But I knew my rights were very limited and had to hope he didn’t know it.

  I was going to be disappointed.

  "If you want to look around my property, you'll need a search warrant,” he said. This time, he met my gaze.

  "I'm aware of that,” I said quietly. “I wasn’t suggesting I wanted to search the house, Mr. Jones. Just a quick look around.”

  He fixed my gaze with his own. “Same thing. Search warrant,” he said, simply, and it seemed this was as far as we’d get that day.

  I was close to getting a search warrant with what we had in any case, only he didn’t know it. Jones was damn lucky this was a friendly visit. For now. "Keep this in mind, Mr. Jones. If you're lying to me, and if you had anything to do with the disappearance and murder of Jessica Holmes, I will find out, and I will get a search warrant. That's a promise you can count on. Meanwhile, maybe you'd care to continue this little chat back at the station?"

  Jones paled and cleared his throat. "I know my rights. Don't come around here threatening me. If you want me to come down to the station, I'll need some notice, so I can get legal help."

  Shit. The bastard had clammed up again; he knew the law.

  "You do that," I said. This time, I didn't bother to hide the growl in my voice but I moved away from the front door; he had made his views felt and it was time to leave. As soon as I backed away, Jones slammed the door shut. The bang echoed out through the street and curtains twitched in the house across the way.

  I took a deep breath, and stepped down the rickety porch steps, pausing in the shabby garden. I stared up at the home of the man I believed had abducted Jessica Holmes. He'd retreated into the dark squalor, probably to plot his next move.

  I made my way back to the car and got inside, taking a minute to think about what had just happened. Once there, I let out a sigh, driving down the street a ways before stopping and turning up the stereo to drown out my silent scream. Once I'd done that, I headed back to the Melbourne Crime Command to look up Marlin Jones, determined one way or the other that I'd get him. And that included a search warrant.

  After fighting traffic on the journey back to crime command, I arrived at my desk primed and ready. I'd worked with Jerry Wallace for years, and he must have picked up my mood when I sent my keys and wallet spinning across my desk. He spun in his office chair and looked at me.

  "What the hell happened?"

  "Marlin Jones, that's what."

  "Oh yeah?" Wallace kept his cards close to his chest, revealing little about what went on beneath the skin; I guessed that was why we worked so well together.

  "Jones was seen at the park with Jessie, it’s him I’m sure of it.” I let out a breath and sat down in the chair.

  "He was there, with his red truck, scouting out kids, asking them if they wanted to come back and see his puppies. Classic line. Unbelievable."

  "You went to his place? Get anything?" Wallace didn't move from his relaxed position, reclining back in his chair.

  "Not much, said he knew nothing about it, never met Jessica. I mentioned witnesses had seen him talking to her, still nothing.” Heat rose in my face at the thought of the weasel feigning his innocence.

  "Got under your skin huh?"

  "You could say that. I invited him back to the station, and he refused, claiming he'd need to make a phone call and get legal advice."

  "He got a record?"

  "I was just about to check that. All I want is one good reason to turn his place inside out." Wallace had already turned back to his desk and clicked open the program to do a search.

  "Marlin Jones, you said? Got a date of birth?"

  I reached across and went through paperwork on my desk, until I got the printout of the search I’d run on his vehicle registration details.

  "Yeah." I got up and walked across to stand beside Wallace as he entered Marlin Jones’ date of birth into the system.

  It took a few seconds, then it appeared on the screen clear as day.

  Jones had a record all right. I swallowed, hard. Wallace whistled. "Well, what do you know, Mr. Innocence has a record for sex with a minor, more than ten years ago.” He looked up at me, and I stared back.

  "No wonder he was so ca
gey. Claimed he didn't know Jessica, never went to the park, never met her, even though a couple of witnesses placed him there."

  "Nothing surprises me anymore when it comes to rock spiders." Most of us in law enforcement used the inside term for paedophiles.

  "Better get moving, Jerry. I'll get started on a search warrant application. Can't wait to toss his place while he watches."

  Marlin Jones so far was the prime suspect, but I had zero in the way of evidence linking Jones to the crime.

  I needed to get that search warrant ready and submitted to the court.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Bright light filtered through the clouds. The windows were high up in my cubicle and covered with grey vertical blinds. The quietness covered me like a blanket.

  I shifted in my office chair, pulling it towards the screen. I knew Marlin Jones was our guy. All I needed now was some evidence to put him away. I powered up the computer, opening the template for a search warrant and starting to fill it in to get it submitted. I began madly pecking at the keyboard, chewing my lip.

  If there was one thing cops didn't talk about, it was paperwork. Most members of the public had no idea how much administration and bureaucracy were involved in solving a crime, the less glamorous side of an investigation.

  In this case though, I had to make sure I did everything right, even if it took time. The last thing I wanted was the case getting tossed out on appeal due to some minor technicality.

  I got on a roll, developed a second wind as I filled in the final fields of the warrant request. I took a breath, lifted my fingers from the keyboard and leaned back, pushing away from the desk. I felt a presence next to me. I looked up to my right where Selena Hicks frowned down on me, arms crossed.

  "I've got top brass breathing down my neck. What's the latest?"

  "Got a subspecies; he has a record as a sex offender but I'm going to need a search warrant."

  "Okay, expedite it. Media unit will be here shortly. Play nice, okay?"

  I let out a sigh and stood up, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Always.” I lifted my head. “Let me guess, they're going to coach me, so I can play nice at the press conference?"