by A N Drew
That should do it.
Garrett sat at the desk next to me and swivelled his chair around to my direction. "What's the latest, mate?"
I cleared my throat and turned my own chair around to look at him. Rather than bags under his eyes, Garrett had suitcases and deep-shadowed crevices. He'd shaved and wore a clean shirt, light blue. "Going through these emails sent by Jones. There's thousands."
"No trace, huh?"
"Prick seems stupid, but there's no record of any buyers, no purchases of what he calls goods at all. All deleted."
Garrett swore under his breath.
"What about Niki in IT? She's onto it?"
"Sent her a text a few minutes ago, should be here soon."
"Did someone say my name? In a good way, gentlemen, though… I'm sure." Nikita Newhouse, Niki to us, wore a bright red shirt and a white all-in-one, jeans attached to an apron and straps. Her smile, as usual, beamed throughout the room and she looked at both of us, hands in pockets.
I managed a thin smile. "I'll get the laptop for you now.” I turned back towards my desk. Ed Garrett watched the goings-on.
I unplugged the cords from the laptop, picked it up and turned to my right to give it to Niki.
"Over here, Jack,” I turned in the direction of Niki's voice, where she'd now moved around to stand at the other side of my desk, to the left of my chair. "So basically, an undelete service for emails?"
"Yeah." My temperature seemed to have rocketed up a degree or two. "Laptop belongs to a paedophile by the name of Marlin Jones."
I looked up at her. She frowned as she took the laptop and tucked it under her arm. "Anything else?"
I wasn't keen on telling her too much more, although obviously, she worked in Melbourne Crime Command. I couldn't shake the fact that she was not only a woman but young, not that I'd ever admit either of those things being a factor.
"I'm looking for emails mentioning either transport or purchase of goods and the identity of the sender.” Collen rubbed his hands down his trouser legs, cleared his throat then turned back to his computer screen.
"Okay, got it. I'll have this back to you ASAP." Niki's frown remained, and she walked away, head down.
I took a deep breath.
Next, an interview with Marlin Jones, charged with stalking and harassment after the funeral, now with additional charges added including kidnapping. He was currently at the Melbourne Remand Centre, the assessment prison not far from Melbourne Crime Command in the central business district.
I called Swanson.
"Jack. Where are you at?” She was in the car judging by the background noise. She had me on speakerphone.
"About to pay a visit to Marlin Jones at MRC."
"It'll take me an hour to get there."
Garrett turned and nodded at me. "It's okay, Ed Garrett will tag along," I said.
She pushed out a breath of air. "Yeah, all right. Let me know when the cell door slams shut.”
"You'll be there. I'll let you know.” I hung up and grabbed my jacket.
Garrett already had his wallet, and we walked down the corridor, out through the front door, and onto the street.
"Easy, Jack, eh?” He held the lift door open and I thanked him with a nod.
"Don't worry, I won't lay a finger on him. But he's mine. We're closing in and he knows it." Both of us took a moment, off in our own worlds, streaming various scenarios through our minds. Mentally, I prepared myself, closed my eyes for a second and slowed my breathing.
Outside, I pulled my jacket closer and braced against the wind. The walk took us no longer than a couple of minutes.
We arrived at the MRC, said our greetings, showed our identifications and signed in. We then waited in the interview room for Marlin Jones to be brought in.
"I'll lead,” I said to Garrett, who nodded, a pensive look on his face. His legs and arms were crossed. He sat on one side of the grey battered table, back against one wall, while I sat directly on the side of the table that faced the metal door.
I wanted to see Marlin’s face when he walked in.
There were clunking noises as the door was unlocked. A dark-haired oak tree of a prison officer opened the door, entered the room and stood aside.
Marlin Jones was still thin, and paler than the last time I'd seen him. I caught a split second of recognition on his face, a look of horror and fear. But he recovered quickly and smiled. "Well, Jack Fletcher, what an unexpected surprise."
Garrett and I exchanged a look. I leaned back in the chair.
"Who's looking after the girls while you're inside Marlin? They didn't do much of a job."
Jones didn't flinch. Instead, he stared right through me, holding a fixed stare.
"There were seventeen young girls, I counted 'em." Garrett leaned forward in the chair, resting one hand on his right leg.
Marlin Jones threw his head back and laughed, long and loud. "Ah, you'll never find him. Never.” He sat back in the seat and extended his legs in front of him and stared at his toes.
"I wouldn't be too sure of that, dick head.” I wanted to reach over and grab him by the neck with both hands but suppressed the urge. I wouldn't stoop to the level of this sicko, no matter how much it hurt pushing down the desire to kill him with my bare hands.
"Oh, but I’m sure. We are on this side of the table, you're on that side, wearing prison gear. Your laptop was interesting reading, by the way." Said Garrett.
Marlin's smile dropped. I decided to push on, leaning further across the table.
"You have quite a few interested buyers, Jones. It would go a lot easier on you if you gave us his name. Then we could start talking for real." I said.
Jones pushed his lips together firmly and crossed his arms. Any trace of cockiness had long since vanished. Fucker.
"Shy, Marlin? According to the girls, you weren't shy.” Heat prickled across my face.
"Didn't touch them."
"Yeah, right." Garrett raised his rump from the chair, thought better of it, then sat down again.
"Either way, we got him now that we have the laptop. Our techs are working on it as we speak. The question is, how far will you go to protect the son of a bitch?” I kept my voice calm, low, cool.
Marlin swallowed, the lump slowly making its way down his skinny grey throat. "He'll kill me, though."
Neither Garrett nor I spoke for a few seconds, mulling over our next move. While having Marlin Jones dead sounded appealing, maybe we could leverage Marlin's fear that the guy would find him and arrange for his death in jail.
"So, he knows people, huh? In that case, the more you tell us, the safer you are." I’d made one last attempt, then we were out of here. A look between Garrett and me confirmed my plan.
"Not telling you fuckers anything." Marlin looked at the floor.
"Roll out the red carpet. He'll be in here before you know it. Or his people will. You're on your own.” I was done.
Garrett and I scraped back our chairs simultaneously. We were up and at the door in the blink of an eye. The prison guard began unlocking the various bars to open the door. Marlin didn't move. We were out of the door in a split second and striding down the corridor towards the security area, then out onto the street. My heart banged so hard I wondered if it would jump out of my chest.
My jacket pocket buzzed. Niki Newhouse was calling.
"What have you got for me, Niki?"
"Not the winning lotto tickets, unfortunately,” she said.
I stopped, waiting for the blow.
"Although I do have an email you might be interested in."
Constricted throat. Can't breathe.
"Who?"
"Doesn't say, but judging by the history, looks like his name’s Eric Slavosky."
Fucking bastard had been under my nose the whole time! I took a breath.
“Thanks Niki” I said and hung up.
Prickles raced along my shoulders, my back, my neck. A pounding filled my ears and my pulse ratcheted up into overdrive.
<
br /> A picture of Gemma came to me, playing in the backyard with the prick, laughing and giggling as she threw the ball back to him… and then that slimy fucker’s face, twisted in a smile of satisfaction.
I clenched my fists, remembered his curiosity at Crime Command, the questions about the job and if there were any leads.
I remembered my mother's advice, too: Rise above it, son, rise above it.
At the time, it had seemed strange, but now I knew what she meant. Don't stoop to the level of evil. Justice would be the best revenge, the slam of the gavel. All the same, I wanted to beat the fucker to a pulp.
"What? You got a name?" Garrett paused inches from my face, his smoker’s breath overpowering.
"Boyfriend of the ex-wife. Eric Slavosky. The fucker. Hidden from view and convincing. I fell for it hook, line and fucking sinker.” I shoved my phone back in my pocket and power-walked down the street back to Crime Command.
"Hang on, Jack!" Ed Garrett struggled to catch up and grabbed at my elbow. I shoved his hand away.
"Calm and cool, mate. Slow down."
Fuck, he had a point. I didn't look at him but slowed my pace to his and shoved both hands in the pockets of my pants.
"Need a hand with the arrest warrant?"
"That'd be great. Once I see Niki and check out the email for myself, we're all over him like a rash. I need to talk to Hicks too.”
The lights changed to red and we stopped at the crossing at the back of a crowd of pedestrians. My mind was in overdrive. The concept of sleeping without drowning in grog loomed closer. "That's right, mate,” said Garrett. "You got him, so close you can touch it. The peace of sleep is yours."
Fucking almost. I could taste the bitter tang of justice on my tongue.
Rae Swanson and I could celebrate tonight. This time, though, with lemonade.
When I got back to Crime Command, I went straight to Niki's desk. She had the laptop powered up and waiting.
"Here it is Jack. Email address [email protected].” I blew out a breath and shifted my weight from one hip to the other. "I tracked the email address and his IP and turns out he lives in Croydon. Here's the screenshot."
Eric Slavosky appeared on a white screen with green and blue text on the larger screen to the back left. Slick and fucking handsome. Not.
Niki pointed to the smaller screen of the laptop. "There's the original exchange."
My stomach curdled. Eric and Marlin, Scumbags Inc. Eric had arranged for the abduction and kidnap of Jessica, and in this case, Eric had arranged to keep the goods for himself as working capital.
Fuck.
"Thanks, Niki.” I walked off.
"Go get 'em, Jack." Niki's voice trailed behind me. I got to my desk, and Garrett spun around triumphantly.
"Got it, mate. Arrest warrant. I've emailed it to the Magistrates Court. It's still business hours so we should have it urgently."
"Thanks, I'll give them a call."
"Already done. We should have an answer soon, especially for Project Beacon; it's all over the airwaves.” He looked down at his phone which didn't ring.
But mine did.
I picked it up almost before it rang.
"DS Fletcher?"
"Yes." My pulse quickened for the second time that day.
"You have your warrant. I'm sending it through to Crime Command now."
"Thank you. You have the number?” she read it back to me.
I hung up and smiled at Garrett, then jumped up for an air punch. "We got him, Ed. We fucking got him."
Garrett high-fived me, never a hugger, thank God. "Let's take a trip to Croydon."
"Let me call Hicks, then Swanson."
"No problem, I'll alert the whole team."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I braced myself for the cold, pulling my jacket tighter as I walked down the path to the front door of Melinda Holmes and Eric Slavosky. Garrett and Swanson followed behind me and quickened their steps to catch up. Garrett shot me pensive looks, hands shoved in his jeans pockets.
Melinda Holmes had the door open before we arrived. She stood arms crossed, weight hanging over one hip.
"Don't tell me, you've actually done your job?"
Swanson stared at me, but I didn't look at her. I kept my eyes on the mother.
"May we come in?"
"I guess,” Melinda Holmes stood back to allow us entry, closing the door firmly behind us.
The worm was sipping on a glass of water when we entered the living area.
I pulled the cuffs from the back of my pocket and he put the glass down on the coffee table and backed away. I grabbed his right hand and spun him around. "Eric Slavosky, you're under arrest for the rape and murder of Jessica Holmes."
"Fuck off!,” he screamed, and I bent him over the back of the couch and growled in his ear, "She was seven years old you piece of fucking shit."
Rae began to speak but lunged for Melinda Holmes who screamed profanities, shrieking and howling like a fishwife. But then, she had just learned that the man she'd been sleeping with had raped and killed her daughter.
"Is this true, you fucking arsehole? Is it?"
Eric backed away from her, but Melinda Holmes was gunning for him.
In a split-second, Melinda was out of the living area, down the hall and banging around in the kitchen. Rae Swanson strode after her, as did I, and she flicked a look at me.
Melinda's face was mottled red, eyes bulging and mouth open. She lifted her right hand, the large kitchen knife blade extending from the bottom of her hand. Tiny drops of blood had dripped from her hand when she'd grabbed at the handle, most likely in a mad hurry, and cut herself.
"Die, you bastard die!” She rushed back to the living area and lunged for Eric, throwing herself across the table. Swanson grabbed her from behind, me from the front. She collapsed onto the ground sobbing, huge racking sobs, where she could barely catch her breath. Swanson rubbed Melinda's back as she did so.
My soul shattered into a million pieces, a soul I thought I'd lost a piece of forever, that had blackened and charred. Will Holmes, Melinda Holmes, the young girls, their families, my family. All because of Eric Slavosky's sick and twisted need to consume and possess young girls.
I walked away from Melinda towards Eric. He'd quietened down now, but he didn't attempt to apologise or beg forgiveness.
I lifted him up by his handcuffed arms.
He turned to face me, unmoving, still and silent. "You've got a nerve coming in here and arresting me, ruining my family. Where's your evidence?"
Without breaking the stare, I handed Slavosky off to Garrett and removed a thin rubber glove from my pocket. I picked up the glass from the table, and lifted it in a cheers gesture, to Eric Slavosky.
"Right here,” I said, and brought a plastic bag from my other pocket, placing the glass inside and sealing it with the Ziplock. I allowed myself a rare smile, savouring the warmth that filled my chest.
Eric's face paled, the blood suddenly draining out of it and sinking to his shoes.
"Don't be too sure of yourself,” I said. Rae now sat at the table and had caught her breath. Melinda was at her side, drinking a glass of water. A box of tissues in front of her, she continued to wipe at her face. She didn't look at me or Eric, she probably couldn't. Rae whispered to Melinda, and with the tilt of her chin, left the room via the rear entrance. Rae seemed to be good at soothing frayed nerves and putting people at ease.
A woman's touch maybe. She could certainly teach me a few things.
I grabbed at Eric's handcuffs pulling them tighter and he screamed. I didn't bother apologising.
I increased pressure.
"This is police brutality, I know my rights. I'm going to sue you and the whole department." The pitch had changed, higher more unstable, almost shrill.
"Go for your life. Trust me, I'm controlling myself. I haven't hurt you. Not sure if I can say the same for the boys inside, they're really friendly I hear.” I allowed myself another smile.
I stood hard up behind him as he didn't want to go anywhere. I didn't want to leave Rae behind but as a seasoned detective, she'd look after Melinda Holmes.
Eric had stopped, so I pushed him by the elbows.
I grabbed at his left elbow, and Garrett shoved at Slavosky's right. Between us, we got him out the door and down the footpath.
Once we arrived at the car, Garrett decided to speak "Get in arsehole.” I recognised that stone voice, a point where seething anger had shifted to the calmest warning he could manage.
Slavosky glared at both of us, so Garrett pushed him in by the head.
"Ow! Fuck you."
I slammed the door shut and stared across the top of the car at Garrett who had moved across to the driver’s side. I got in.
This would be interesting. Obviously, both of us wanted to the kill the guy, who wouldn't?
But we had to play this by the book, part of the fun of being a representative of law-abiding citizens. Showing leadership and setting a good example and all that.
Maybe now I could be a real example to my wife and kids, throw away the bottle and be a human being again.
Live life, or at least half a life.
As Garrett started the car, I thought about Maddy, her bright shining face, pushing happiness out at the world, eyes shining.
I looked around at the shit bag in the back seat. Pale face, he stared out through the window, head turned to the left.
The day had turned damp and grey, and the trees hung their heads in shame.
The image of my daughter wouldn't leave. An image of some creep grabbing her from a park, bundling her into a car.
I shivered.
"Where are we going? I need to make a phone call. It's my right.” Slavosky sounded indignant, annoyed.
Garrett and I ignored him for a moment, then I spoke, without turning back to look at him. I bit back the response I wanted to give and kept it cool. Anything else would give my temper free reign, and that was a loose cannon to nowhere.
"Jessica doesn't have rights anymore. That was her name, Jessica. Her father lost his rights too, the right to hold his daughter."
The worm was wising up. He didn't speak again.