by Jon Mills
Hudson was quick to respond. “If we find out that you are withholding information vital to this case, you will be charged with obstructing a police investigation.”
“Get out. Now! Get out!” Dana started yelling at the top of her voice and shooing them towards the door. The male officer was the first out followed by Hudson. She stood for a second longer in the doorway not allowing Dana to close the door.
“Do you want justice for your son, Ms. Grant? Because if you do, then we are going to need you to be transparent with us.”
“You want transparency. How’s this for transparency?” Dana flipped her the bird. Hudson chuckled and stepped out of the way so she could slam the door. She listened to them mumble something about her being crazy as they walked away. Dana slumped down behind the door and knew right then that whatever hope she had of nailing this bastard, it wasn’t going to be found in relying on the police. As she sat there chewing over what they’d said and trying to catch her breath, Jack appeared in the doorway at the end of the hall.
* * *
Later that evening on the north side of town, after prowling around for his next target, he homed in on a vehicle that had been parked in a rest stop for over twenty minutes. He’d driven past the light blue sedan multiple times and seen the silhouette of two occupants moving around inside. He felt a surge of excitement as he traveled back and forth making sure that no one else was in the vicinity at the time. He eased off the gas and brought his dark Jeep Wrangler right up behind the vehicle so the driver couldn’t pull away. He flicked on the powerful white LED light bar he custom added to the top of the vehicle. It lit up the vehicle ahead and its occupants. He reached across to the passenger seat and snatched up his Walther P-22 with silencer attached and pushed out of the vehicle. The driver was already out of his vehicle. No, that wasn’t meant to be how this worked. He wanted him inside. He was meant to be inside the vehicle.
“Hey, you want to turn off that light!” The tone in the kid’s voice was defiant. “You’re blinding us.”
The kid had his forearm up to try and block the light, but it wasn’t going to do him any good. He’d already taped a small flashlight to the barrel of his gun. Without saying a word, he squeezed off a round straight into his chest dropping him. From the vehicle he heard a scream and the door open. Before she got even three steps, he fired two shots into the back of her head. Looming over the guy who was still alive and groaning, he grabbed him by the back of the collar and dragged him back into the vehicle. He felt frustration bubbling up inside him. It wasn’t meant to go like this. You were meant to stay in the vehicle. This wasn’t how it happened. The kid groaned and muttered something about why, and I need a doctor, and…
Before he could finish what he was saying, the stocky man slammed the door on the vehicle and then squeezed off two more rounds, one into the face and another into the neck. That was it. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the right number of rounds fired into the chest, face and neck just like July 5, 1969.
He cast a nervous glance off to his right. He had to move fast or another vehicle would come along and he couldn’t have that happen. Quickly he went around to the passenger side and hauled the dead girl back into the vehicle, then proceeded to fire four more rounds, two into each of them to complete his work.
He stood there for a second admiring it like a painting, then he shut off the body cam. It was done. He chuckled to himself as he walked back to his vehicle. How easy it had been. With every new kill he was getting closer to knowing what it must have been like for him.
Slipping back into his vehicle he reversed out and drove off into the night with excitement rolling around in his stomach. He couldn’t wait to get it online and see her face again. Oh, he wanted to visit her in the hospital so badly. He wanted to run his hands across her face as she slept and sit within reach of her. The feeling of power and control would have been divine.
Instead, he had to settle for watching her swallow down that coffee.
He couldn’t believe that he’d managed to walk into the same room as them all. Not even the Zodiac had done that, and yet he knew he would have done it if he could have got away with it. It was the ultimate in control. Being right there, within reach and they could do nothing.
He drove on for another four miles into the heart of San Francisco before pulling into his garage and closing it behind him. What a sense of accomplishment he felt as the garage door clanged.
If it continued to be this easy, perhaps he wouldn’t hand himself in.
The more he embodied the spirit of who the Zodiac was, the more he began to understand why he had remained so elusive. You enjoyed it, didn’t you? But this wasn’t about walking in his footsteps, it was so much more than that. Soon he would be validated, and they would realize the error of their ways.
Chapter 10
The ice pack felt cool pressed against his skin. Angelo Marabelle sat in the back office of his restaurant on Golden Gate Avenue. Among the many business ventures he had his hands in, this was by far the most profitable. After working his way up the chain and becoming a made man, he’d taken control of the importing of drugs, gun running and prostitution in the city. Though there were a lot of faces to his company, and different names, it was still him at the helm. Not once in fourteen years had he encountered anyone with the nerve to push his buttons, let alone attack him. Angelo swatted the young woman’s hand from his shoulder. He was having her massage out the tension in his neck while he made calls around to those in the city.
“I want this fucking guy’s head on a stick. You hear me?” he bellowed over the phone to one of his foot soldiers before slamming it down. It had taken many years to establish himself as someone people feared in the city, he even had a few dirty cops on the payroll. It was just part of doing business. They alerted him when one of his establishments was about to get hit, he made sure they were paid handsomely so they didn’t have a reason to screw him over. Of course, he took things to the next level and made sure that he had video footage of them with underage women who worked for him, just in case they decided to grow a conscience.
He leaned forward and snorted up two lines of cocaine to help with the pain. He had an ice pack between his legs and another one on the jaw. Across the room from him was Vinny with a bandage wrapped around his head to cover the ear he’d lost. He also had burns to his neck where hot stones had melted off his skin. Louis hadn’t been so lucky.
Winchester had torn through some of his best men.
He wiped away some of the white dust from his nose and made another phone call. This time it was to Nico in New York. He was fuming. Nico had told him it would be an easy hit. Hell, he’d offered to pay him a large sum of money to get rid of him.
“Nico Fontane?”
“Oh hey, Angelo. How did it go?”
He leaned back in his seat and shrugged off the bitch behind him that was starting to become like an annoying fly. “Go fucking do your makeup.”
“What?” Nico asked.
“I wasn’t talking to you. So, you said this was going to be an easy hit.”
“I didn’t say easy. I said that it would be easier to kill him if you placed him in a position where he didn’t have a gun or a knife. Why? What happened?”
“What happened?” He could feel his blood boiling below the surface. “He killed a handful of my men, tore the ear off one and…” He gazed down at his swollen ball sack that resembled an enlarged unripe avocado. It was practically black. He’d never felt so much pain. The doctors had wanted to keep him in the hospital but he refused to stay. Instead, he used his connections to get released early so the cops wouldn’t hassle him and he made sure they gave him a steady flow of morphine to curb the pain. A doctor would check on him every few hours while he continued to conduct business. There was no way in hell he was going to stay laid up in bed and let that guy slip out of the city. If he had to track him down himself, he would.
“This is gonna cost you,” he spat. “You owe me twice the amou
nt we agreed.”
“No. That’s not the agreement.”
“He killed some of my best men. Now unless you want me to track you down, you owe twice the amount.”
“I told you he wasn’t to be underestimated. Let me guess, you toyed with him, didn’t you? You don’t fucking toy with this guy. I was very clear about that.”
Angelo gripped the phone receiver tighter and then smashed it a few times against the table before bringing it back to his lips.
“Are you listening? Huh? Now you are going to tell me everything you know about this guy. How did he get in contact with you?”
“He phoned me… Hold on a second.”
It sounded like he was playing around with his cell phone. There were buttons pressed.
“I’ve got a number. You want it?”
“What do you think?” Angelo spat back, then Nico reeled it off.
“Now listen, Angelo. I’m telling you right now. If he’s still in the city. Leave him alone. Just let him go. We’ll get him another time.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are you telling me what to do?”
“I’m giving you a heads-up. You send men after him and there is going to be more blood on your hands. He won’t give up until all of you are dead. Do you understand? I told you what he did to the families out here. He’s not to be underestimated.”
Angelo sat there chewing it over as Nico filled him in on the many acts of violence Jack had been involved in. At one time he was considered the mob’s most dangerous hit man.
“We’ll deal with him, and after this, if I don’t get my money, Nico, we’ll deal with you.”
“I’ll send you the money but hear me out on this. If you go after him, you won’t be alive to spend it.”
With that Nico hung up on him. Enraged, Angelo picked up the entire phone and tossed it across the room. It smashed into the wall, breaking into multiple pieces.
“Vinny,” he yelled at the top of his voice.
“Yes, boss?”
“I want this asshole found and soon. Gear up, take this number and find out where it goes to. I want every contact we have in the city to be looking out for this guy.”
Vinny came over and took it from him and backed out of the office. Angelo sat there for a few more seconds, his elbow resting on the desk in front of him, his head in his hands. One of his other women came over and began to work the muscles in his back and he lashed out and shoved her away. “Get the hell out of here. Go!”
She and two other scantily clad women scurried out of the room leaving him alone.
He groaned in pain and leaned forward for one more line of cocaine.
* * *
The bloated body of an eighteen-year-old girl was fished out of the bay at just after eight that morning. Police divers were on hand along with investigators when Detective Hudson rolled up with Romero.
“Now, I’m warning you. I’m just saying we need to be careful. That’s how lawsuits start. You were a little heavy-handed with her yesterday. Seriously, Hudson, you of all people know we don’t go barging into someone’s home, especially not the parent of a victim. Now you’re fortunate that she didn’t phone the captain.”
“I hear you. I don’t really know what came over me. I think it’s this case. Last night I slept with my firearm under my pillow. I haven’t ever done that.”
The car idled near the harbor. Both of them watched the crime team place the girl inside a body bag. She was still fully clothed.
Romero sighed. “If she calls today, I’ll just say that it was the meds they had you on yesterday.”
“I wasn’t on any meds.”
“I know that, they don’t,” Romero replied pushing out of the cruiser. Hudson cracked her neck from side to side to work out the tension. She’d had hardly any sleep the night before. When she did manage to get a few hours, she ended up having a nightmare and waking up in a cold sweat. Two officers had been stationed outside her apartment in the event he showed up but that didn’t offer any reassurance.
“Morning, Romero,” several officers said as they made their way over to the EMT van.
“Hey guys. What have we got?”
Officer Charley Whitaker shuffled over. “Brunette female, nineteen, fully clothed, one round to the back of the head. Not sure how long she’s been in the water, but my guess is a couple of days by the looks of it. Fisherman over there spotted her body caught up in the netting, near Pier 39.”
“Any ID?”
“Not so far.”
“Anyone filed a missing persons?”
“We are still looking into that. She’s only been out of the water a short while.”
“Okay, canvass the colleges and universities. See if anyone hasn’t shown up for classes in last few days.”
“You think it’s related?” Romero asked as she unzipped the body bag and took a look at the girl’s face. The bullet had gone in the back of the head but didn’t appear to have exited which meant the shot was probably taken from a distance, and there was a good chance that ballistics might reveal if the marks left on the bullet could be matched to a specific firearm.
“No. He said he was going to kill again, but this doesn’t fit. It would have been a couple in their car.” Hudson turned to Whitaker. “Charley, make sure you get back to me after you’ve canvassed the universities, and got the report from the ME. Make sure he puts a rush on that. I want to know how long she’s been dead, who she is and if there is a match from the round.”
He nodded and walked off to speak with a different officer.
She zipped up the bag, and they returned to the cruiser. Romero pulled out a cigarette as they got into the vehicle and lit it. She shook her head. It didn’t matter what she said to him, he did whatever he liked.
“So what are we going to do about Ms. Grant?”
“I’ve put a tail on her.”
Romero brought a hand to his forehead. “You are joking?”
The engine roared to life. “Of course not. I’m not ruling anything out right now, Romero. I’m spreading the net wide until we can catch a bite. Someone is going to screw up and when they do, I’m going to be there. Right now our only link to this lunatic is the two families. The visit last night to the Gilbert family yielded nothing but there is something Ms. Grant is holding back. Call it a gut instinct but mark my words, there is more to this.”
His eyebrows rose as they peeled away.
* * *
Jack sipped on his black coffee. He was sitting at the breakfast bar when Dana stumbled in bleary eyed. She pawed at her face and yawned before stretching.
“There’s coffee in the pot,” he said, motioning to the counter.
“How was the sofa?” she asked, shuffling over and pulling a cup down from one of the cupboards.
Of course he hadn’t slept in her bed that night or even put moves on her. That wasn’t why he was here. Certainly he wished he could have woken with her beside him but he’d imagined if it ever happened, it would have been under better circumstances.
“Fine. You manage to sleep?”
“I took a melatonin and got a few hours.”
She was barefoot, wearing a light pink bathrobe that was tied off at the front. Below that was a white T-shirt. In front of him he had open her laptop. He’d been awake since five and had been browsing through article after article, going over the videos posted by the individual claiming to be the Zodiac. He’d spent the better part of an hour wading through amateur sleuth forum threads created by people who stirred the rumor wheel with different thoughts on who the original Zodiac was and who might be behind the recent murder.
“Find anything of interest?” Dana asked, leaning back against the counter and taking a swig of coffee.
“It’s wild. Everyone has a theory on who this guy was, and, well now is.”
“Well I think it’s pretty clear that whoever this lunatic is, he’s not the real Zodiac. The Zodiac description back in 1969 varied from two of the survivors to the one
that was adjusted based on the composite sketch. They said he was a white male between 35 and 45 years of age. He was supposed to be around 5-foot-10 or 5-11, 180 to 200 pounds, with a paunch. That was almost fifty years ago. So he would be at least eighty-five or in his mid-nineties. And based on how he sounded, and from the footage of him taking Jason down, it’s safe to say we are dealing with someone stronger and younger. The question is who and why?”
Jack cast her a glance. He didn’t even need to ask how she knew so much. She probably had been doing nothing but searching for clues since Jason’s death. He took another sip of his drink and pulled up the notes he’d made.
“Some have said it’s their grandfather, others their father and then some have come out and said it was a member of the San Francisco police.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I read that. What do you make of the ciphers he sent out?”
“I doubt anyone is going to be able to decipher them.”
“Why not? The 408-character code was deciphered.”
Jack turned in his seat. “Right, and that didn’t offer up much except to say that he enjoyed killing people because it was more fun than killing wild game in the forest, and something about creating slaves in the afterlife. It’s been forty-eight years, Dana, and no one has been able to solve 340.”
“But the recent ciphers might offer the key, right?”
“In theory. I mean, we are meant to believe that if they can solve those four pieces, they will have the cipher key for decoding 340. And in turn it will reveal the name of the Zodiac as he always claimed his name was in the code.”
Silence filled the next few moments as he pondered what he’d read.
“Cipher key?” Dana asked.
Jack turned back to the computer. “Yeah, the CIA used to encrypt messages using a code. We’re talking about manual encryption of messages sent way back in the time of World War II. Every code has a cipher key. That key allowed a person to unlock the code. Every cipher key is made up of a series of symbols. Next to each symbol is a letter. Now if you had the cipher code, essentially you could replace the symbols from a code with letters and in turn discover what the message said. Here, let me show you.” Jack brought up an example of a cipher key and then showed her how 408 was decoded.