by Bill WENHAM
I looked back at the occupation filled whiteboard with a sense of satisfaction. It had changed my thinking already. But I wouldn’t have been so pleased if I’d known then that not one of the occupations listed was the one I needed.
We’d inadvertently missed the one that would have actually told us what the killer’s real name was, just as he’d intended us to, but we all missed it. We’d used ‘occupation’ instead. The right word could have also told us his ethnic origin as well if we’d picked up on the variation, as Ellie had suggested. She’d had the right idea and we’d been so close, everyone had, everyone except Sullivan, that is.
We found out later she’d been way off base with her reasoning and assumptions. Not only was the ‘Butler’ not English, he’d never even been to England. But he was an exceptionally talented actor. The English accent had just been a red herring, as the mystery novelists called it. A deliberate attempt to mislead us while at the same time egging us on to search for him.
Apart from using the name, ‘The Butler’, the guy also had a particular trademark. All of his victims had been women and they’d all been found in the same way, all stabbed and carefully laid out flat on their backs, with their feet together.
Their hands had been carefully arranged across their chests, their eyes were closed and every one of them had been clasping a long stemmed silk rose. Some of them were red and some had been white.
Also in these poses, the injuries that had killed them were not immediately apparent. Every one of them appeared to have been sleeping when they were found, some of them even in their own beds.
We’d been very careful to keep that little tidbit of information from the media. The last thing we wanted right now was for some other maniac to go on a spree of copycat killings.
At another one of our squad room brainstorming sessions, I’d asked for their views on the significance of the roses.
Newton Winders said, “I was wondering, Lieutenant, since we’re following up on the English angle, whether the flowers had anything to do with the Wars of the Roses?”
“Can you explain, Newt?” I asked.
“Well, I’m not that much up on it, other than the basics,” he said.
“Okay, then, just give us the basics.”
“I just know the two opposing sides were York and Lancaster and each side was represented by a rose, one red and one white. The Wars of the Roses, but I have no idea which one was which,” he said.
I wrote down York and Lancaster on the white board.
“Perhaps it doesn’t matter, at this point, Newt, but maybe you could check it out a bit more for us, if you wouldn’t mind.”
All this had taken place before I’d gone off on my weekend mini-break. But it was almost as though the killer knew I’d gone. Could the Precinct be under surveillance of some kind by this guy, I wondered?
Not under visual surveillance perhaps, but the squad room had recently, before any of this had gone down, had a new coffee maker installed. It was on a portable trolley which could be moved from room to room as needed and plugged in.
It wouldn’t be the kind of thing you’d expect to find bugged in a police squad room and neither did we. But we were soon to learn to expect the unexpected, as they say, since we also found out later the killer had taped every word of our sessions and knew exactly what was said and usually who’d said it.
Wayne and I wondered about the roses thing too. There had to be some significance or a connection to the murders there somewhere, or else there was no reason for them to be there, none we could see anyway.
It bothered me the killer had directed the first of his messages to me personally. Why? Did I know the guy from somewhere? Was he someone I’d helped to put away?
Wayne had thought it was strange the guy had changed his tactics just when I’d gone away for a day or two. It was as though he knew I was gone and wanted me back. Just like a kitten playing with a ball of wool. It would bat the ball away casually but a moment later it would pounce on it and bring it right back again.
Since I’d returned reluctantly from the lake, the killer had called again. The message had sent shivers down my back. In this call he’d specifically named Ellie and Sharon, complimenting them on their excellent reasoning powers. Wayne and I looked out of the squad room windows at the building across the street. Could someone over there, with a directional mike, be picking up our conversations in the squad room maybe?
As we discussed this possibility and unbeknownst to us, the bug in the base of the coffee maker continued to relay our words to the killer’s listening and recording equipment.
Although it would be a bit cramped and not all of them could be included, I decided any future discussions about the case would take place inside my windowless office. As part of their regular routine, though, one of our squad would naturally wheel in the coffee trolley, together with the coffee maker, creamer, mugs and sugar packets, and would plug it in.
Chapter Three
I knew something was terribly wrong as soon as I walked into the building. I saw several of the female members of the squads, as well as some of the clerical girls, were openly crying. It also seemed to me even the guys were deliberately avoiding looking at me. Wayne stopped me before I could enter my office.
“Chief wants to see you, Lieutenant, right away,” a grim faced Wayne told me.
I frowned.
“What about? What’s going on in here? Have I been fired or something?”
Wayne shook his head sadly.
“Worse than that, bud, much worse, but you’d better let the Chief tell you all about it,” Wayne said as he turned away.
“Shit!” I said angrily, “Just what the hell’s going on? Somebody tell me, for Christ’s sake!”
Wayne looked back at me as he walked over to his desk.
“The Chief wants to tell you himself, Boss. Better go and see him right now.”
I could tell something really bad had gone down overnight as I practically ran to the Chief’s office. The Chief met me at his office door, also grim faced. Someone had obviously phoned him to say I was on my way.
“Take a seat, Sandy. I just wish to hell I didn’t have to tell you this, but there’s been another one. Last night.”
“Another death?” I asked, my eyes searching the Chief’s face. The Chief nodded.
“Sit down, Sandy,” he said.
“I don’t need to sit down, goddamn it. Just tell me who it is, for Christ’s sake, Chief.”
The Chief swallowed hard.
“It’s Sullivan,” he said quietly, reaching out to put a hand on my shoulder. I shook it away angrily as I realized what the Chief had said.
“Sharon! No, Chief, it can’t be.” I looked disbelievingly at my superior officer. “She was in an accident then, was she?”
The Chief slowly shook his head. “No, Lieutenant, it was no accident.”
My mouth dropped open as the realization of what had happened hit me.
“Not the goddamned Butler! Please tell me it wasn’t the Butler.” I blurted.
The Chief nodded.
“I’m sorry, man, I really am,” he said.
“You’re not half as sorry as that murderous bastard is going to be when I catch up with him,” I said, choking on the words. “Not Sullivan, for Christ’s sake, Chief. Goddamn it, not her!”
“I have to tell you too, there’s been another message as well. Crawford has it, but if you want to take a day or two off, I can…” the Chief started to say.
“Time off! You must be completely out of your bloody mind. I want to be working day and night to catch this creep so don’t you dare talk to me about time off. This wasn’t just someone we didn’t know, Chief. This was one of my own squad!” I shouted as I thumped my fist down on the Chief’s desk.
“Okay, Lieutenant, take it easy, I understand. You do whatever you have to do. Call me or come in and see me if you want anything at all.”
I knew I was pushing it way too far but the anger had got the b
etter of me, so I said it anyway and to hell with the consequences.
“Yeah Chief, there is something that I want. I want Sullivan back on my squad, that’s what I want. You can’t do that so, if you’ll excuse me, I can’t waste any more time standing around chatting to you, okay?”
For a moment the Chief’s lips set in a thin angry line. Then he relaxed, nodded and opened his door.
“You go get him, Lieutenant, and if you have to shoot the bastard in the process, put a couple of rounds in him for me too, will you?”
I nodded. I was dangerously angry but it was no good taking it out on the Chief. Regardless of the reason, that would be the quickest way to find myself back pounding the sidewalk again. Thank God the Chief recognized it was grief talking and not blatant insubordination. As I reentered the squad room, I motioned for Wayne to join me in my office. Wayne nodded and followed me in, closing the door behind him.
“Told you, huh?” he said.
“Yeah, he told me. Said you’d got another message,” I said.
“Look, pal, this can wait. Just get your thoughts back together and then we can go over it.”
“I don’t need to wait or get my thoughts back together, Sergeant,” I snapped at him. “I want to spend every waking moment I’ve got looking for that bastard. Sullivan, Wayne, why her for Christ’s sake?”
“Why any of them, pal. They all had as much right to live, didn’t they?”
“Yeah, you’re right, and I didn’t mean to snap your head off. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at the old man either.”
“Tried to shoot the messenger then, did you? Bad move, Sandy, you can yell at me all you like and nothing much is gonna happen. Yell at the Chief like that again and you’ll be leaving your Lieutenant’s shield on his desk, I’m thinking. We could all hear you screaming at him from here.”
I nodded.
“Do me a favor, will you, Bud?” I said. “Rustle up a couple of coffees and bring them in. Then we’ll talk about it, okay?”
“You want the whole trolley in here?”
“Christ, no, Wayne. Just bring in a couple of cups. Leave the trolley for the rest of the guys.”
As Wayne went out, I put my elbows on my desk and held my head in my hands. Christ, I thought, what a way to start the day.
A moment or two later Wayne was back again and sat himself down opposite me at the desk. He put two coffees on my desk.
The two of us had worked together for years and we’d partnered each other in the patrol cars as well. When I’d been promoted to Lieutenant, I’d asked for Wayne Crawford as my right hand man.
He’d already passed the qualifying exams and had now been promoted to Sergeant. We were more than just partners at work. The two of us had grown up together and were good friends outside the job as well.
Since we were both still single, I had thought of palming one of Patino’s sisters off on him, but had thought better of it. Wayne wasn’t in the marriage market right now any more than I was.
As I picked up my coffee, I said tightly, “Okay, Wayne, give it to me straight. How did it happen?”
“Right in her own bedroom. Just like most of the others. Same M.O., white rose, everything.”
“How did he get in? Was her place broken into? Any witnesses?”
“No, pal, it looks like she just let him in, as though she knew who he was. Not as the Butler, I don’t mean, but as someone she knew. Or thought she knew. Maybe he imitated the voice of someone she knew and then when she opened the door, he just pushed his way inside. Perhaps it was one of us he imitated.”
“Unless he is one of us, Wayne. Have you thought about that? Somehow this guy always knows everything we’re doing. How better to do that than to be in the same goddamned room with us.” I snarled.
“Sandy, come on, man, you can’t really be thinking that. Good God, pal, you know us. You’ve known most of us for years. You’re completely on the wrong track there. There’s gotta be another explanation.”
Wayne had managed to get all of his words out in a rush before I could interrupt him.
“Just let me hear the tape now, Wayne, please.”
Wayne got up and went out into the squad room, returning with a battery powered portable recorder. He put the machine on my desk, sat back down and turned it on. The usual British voice said:
‘Greetings, Detective Spicer. It is my considered opinion that you are just not trying hard enough to find me. So, as you will soon see, I have added a further incentive for you and a more personal one this time. I would strongly suggest you pay an immediate visit to the Westview Towers Apartments. I think you will find something of particular interest to you in apartment 342. If you hurry, you may even find the door still open. I shall contact you again later.’
“Who’s on it?”
“Petrocelli was on duty. He and Newt went over to check it out. Neither of them knew Sullivan lived there. She was a pretty private kind of gal, as you know. Well, they found her laid out on her bed, just like the others. Multiple stab wounds in the back. Bed was soaked with blood, of course and the apartment door was still wide open.”
I shuddered.
“Spare me the gory details; just tell me who’s handling it now.”
“Well, like I said, Newt and Petrocelli so far. They’re still over there.”
“When did this call come in then, for Christ’s sake, Wayne?” I spluttered.
“No more than about an hour and a half ago, Lieutenant. The guys are still over there waiting for you to show up.”
“And you’re letting me sit here like a dummy drinking coffee,” I yelled angrily. “Just get your ass in gear, Bud. We’ve got stuff to attend to here. The M.E. over there too, is he?”
“Yeah, and the uniforms have got the building under control and…” Wayne was saying.
“Okay, you can tell me the rest of it in the car. Move it! I want this guy real bad now, even more than before. Sullivan of all people. Shit, Wayne, what’s she ever done to anyone? I was just telling her yesterday what a good job she and Ellie were doing.”
“Maybe she thought a bit too much for our creep’s liking, even though he’s taunting us to catch him.”
I looked at him thoughtfully for a moment and nodded slowly.
“You thinking what I’m thinking, Wayne?”
Wayne nodded, “Yeah, Boss, you think Ellie could be next, right?”
“Uh, huh, so let’s get ourselves out of here and we’d better take Ellie along with us.”
As we went out, we rounded up Ellie Todd without explaining to her why she was going. We were trying to protect her, not to panic her.
As the three of us were walking to the car, I asked, “Did you notice anything about the latest message, guys? Anything different? A specific reference to something Sullivan said?”
Wayne and Ellie both frowned, since neither of them was comprehending my meaning.
“Shall, guys. The creep said shall again, just as Sharon had pointed out to us, remember? He said it on the very first message and then not again until this one. He even emphasized it. I’m just wondering why that’s all.”
“Just to show us he knows what we’re saying somehow. It’s just as though he heard Sharon say it, right?” Ellie said.
“Right, Ellie,” I muttered, “Somehow he hears every goddamned word we say.”
Ellie’s hand flew to her mouth.
“Oh, my God!” she said, “Then he would’ve heard everything I said as well then, wouldn’t he?” She looked at us both with a shocked expression on her face. “That’s why I’m here with you guys, isn’t it?”
Wayne and I didn’t need to say anything. No reply was necessary. Ellie had just answered her own question. She knew she was the killer’s next target.
Chapter Four
When we arrived at the apartment block, two patrol cars and a crime scene van were already parked outside. Wayne pulled up alongside the van and the three of us got out. I looked up at the third floor balconies.
“You ever been here, Ellie?” Wayne asked.
“Just the once. Not to her actual apartment though. One of her friends lives on the fifth floor. It was a surprise birthday party for her. It was a family and friends thing. I had to get her over here on a pretext of some sort, pretending there was a domestic to investigate on the fifth floor. Her friend had seen us arrive from the balcony and they were all waiting for her as we came down the corridor. You know. Surprise! Surprise! How about you?”
“No. As far as I knew, no one from the precinct had ever been here. As I told the lieutenant, I thought she was a pretty private kind of person. Didn’t mix the job and her private life together at all.”
He looked at me, and I gave a slight nod, and then he looked back at Ellie.
“From what Petrocelli has said, she must have invited someone in, because there was no forced entry. Or someone had a key, maybe?” he said.
“Did she have a boyfriend that you know of, Ellie?” I asked.
“No, Lieutenant, I never saw one and she never mentioned one to me either. That’s not to say there wasn’t one though.”
We stopped talking as we went inside and made our way over to the bank of elevators. A uniformed cop greeted us, checked our IDs and told us rather unnecessarily to go on up.
As we stepped into the elevator, I savagely stabbed at the button for the third floor. I was dreading what the next few minutes would reveal. It was one thing to be told about it but it was something else again to have to see this for myself. Normally it was bad enough when the victim was unknown to me and I’d thought by now I was hardened to it. But this time it was one of my own people and it was going to be a really tough one for all of us to handle. Beside me in the elevator, Ellie Todd already had tears streaming down her face. She now knew from our conversation on the way over why we were coming here. Whether the tears were for Sharon Sullivan or whether she was dreading seeing a preview of what could happen to her as well, it would be hard to say.