15 Signs Of Murder (Fifteen thrillers)

by Luis Samways

  The sound of her breathing startled RANDOM RICK. He shot out of his seat, turning around abruptly. She nearly fell off balance, but he grabbed her by the wrists. The rest of the café was empty. She was the only other person in the establishment. That was because she worked there. He quickly let go of her when he saw her name tag.

  “What you doing sneaking up on me like that?” he asked, sounding a little out of breath. It wasn’t like him to sound nervous. But he felt it. He wondered how much of his work she had seen. It was imperative that nobody saw his work, or work out his true identity. But the girl who sneaked up on him had a look about her. It was like she respected him. The fact that she was showing him some interest immediately made him feel a little flattered, which in turn made his guard go down a little.

  “Nice blog post,” she finally said.

  RANDOM RICK looked at her for a second or two. He couldn’t tell whether she was being truthful or if she was trying to freak him out. If anybody was to see his blog post, they wouldn’t be approaching him about it. They’d alert the authorities. They’d run. They might even try to apprehend him. But not this girl. There was something off about her. Something not quite right.

  “You didn’t see my blog post,” RANDOM RICK said, moving a little closer to her. She had deep dark eyes. Her pale complexion and the way she bit her lip when she stared at him made RICK realize that something was going on. She was after something.

  “I did,” she said, stepping closer to the killer. “I saw it, and I loved it.”

  RANDOM RICK felt nauseous. A wave of anxiety was crashing against the shores of his psyche.

  “YOU DIDN’T!” he shouted.

  She wasn’t afraid. She relished him shouting at her. It made her feel alive.

  “I want you,” she said, putting her arms around his waist.

  He immediately felt wobbly. He’d never had a woman put her hands on him like that. He wasn’t ugly by any means (although his rotted teeth could do with a trip to the dentist) — he was just one of those men who kept themselves to themselves.

  “What do you mean?” RICK found himself stuttering, looking around at the empty terminals that cluttered up the cyber café.

  “I want you inside me,” she said, grabbing at his crotch.

  “I don’t even know you! What’s the meaning of this?”

  RICK was reeling. He didn’t know what was happening. Part of him felt like it was a trap. But the other part felt that her actions were sincere. He was attracted to the girl. Her mystique was intriguing. Her smell was enticing. Her smile was appealing. Everything about her made him feel stronger, which made the burning desire deep within his soul to kill stronger.

  “I know what you are. I know what you do. And I want to kiss you,” she said, moving in toward his lips.

  When their skin touched, a spark of electrical lust ran through both of them. It nearly jolted them out of their haze. But nothing could stop what was about to unfold.

  “I know you killed all those people,” she said, pulling away from him momentarily. “I understand your pain. I want you to experience love. And then you can go back to your work.”

  RICK didn’t know what to say. He knew that he would have to dispose of her before she told. He couldn’t risk anybody knowing the full extent of his crimes.

  “I’m going to have to kill you, you know?” RICK said, grabbing her by the waist.

  “I know. I just couldn’t help it. I needed to know you. I needed to be part of something. I saw you working on your blog from my terminal. All the PCs in this place can be monitored from where we sit. It’s a safety thing. Just in case some guy decides to download kid porn or something.”

  RANDOM RICK smiled. “Or something,” he repeated.

  “Exactly. You’re something, indeed,” the girl said, moving in for another kiss.

  By now, both he and she were undressing.

  “Why didn’t you inform the police?” he asked as he unclasped her bra.

  “I want to be part of it. Somehow, I want my name to be mentioned in the same light as your work. I want them to remember me.”

  RICK grabbed her by the throat. “But you know what they say?” he said, squeezing hard.

  “No,” she replied, struggling to breathe but still sounding calm.

  “Nobody ever remembers the victims. They only remember the killer.”

  Twenty-Three

  “You need to tell us absolutely everything that happened. Every detail. No matter how minor it may seem. Chances are, it will help us crack this case.”

  I was listening to San give the girl his best “do the right thing” impression. He always insisted on being “that guy.” I, on the other hand — I was always playing the bad cop. But things had changed. I was under scrutiny. If I made the girl so much as shed a single solitary tear, I’d be behind a desk before I knew it.

  “He was tall,” was the first thing she said. I could see she was in a state of inner conflict. That made me immediately suspicious of the teen. Maybe she knew the guy. But I wasn’t ready to press her yet. I’d leave the opening for San to move in on. He needed to feel powerful. I guessed that letting him lead this interview would help him gain some sort of confidence back. God knows he needed it.

  “What else can you tell us about this guy?” San asked.

  I remained quiet. My legs were still stinging from my rushing around after I got the call no less than ten minutes ago. I was in the car, traveling with Santiago, four minutes after receiving the call on my cell. We were at the precinct three minutes later. Two minutes on, and we’re questioning a witness regarding her knowledge of the man who attempted to kill her. She was a little edgy, which was understandable. You usually had to play these types of situations in a calm manner. You didn’t want to spook the witness. But I felt that time was of the essence, so I needed to know what she knew ASAP.

  I slammed my fist on the interrogation table. The sound rattled through the air. The slight breeze seeping through the wall vents droned on in the background. I stood up straight and bent over the witness. She looked up at me and began to cry.

  “ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTIONS IN A TIMELY MANNER!” I spat.

  San immediately grabbed me by the arm. “Ease up, yeah? She’s been involved a traumatic incident,” he said.

  I ripped my arm away from him and bent over her once again. She was struggling to look into my eyes, but I held her glare. “Listen here, sweetheart,” I said, sounding a lot calmer. “You need to tell us everything. I feel like you’re holding back. This is a real serious case. Just because you got off lucky doesn’t change the fact that seven people before you didn’t.”

  She began to wail. “Oh, my God, seven people?” she asked, her nose sounding blocked up.

  “Yes,” Santiago offered in a gentle manner.

  There was a slight pause. It was unnerving. It was also making me angry. I could feel my leg twitching under the table. She was wasting my time. I was about to snap when she finally gave us something.

  “I’ve seen him around before,” she said, coughing a few times.

  My heart started to dance in my chest. I slowly sat back down, reaching for my pack of smokes and offering her one. She declined.

  “Go on,” San said. He was now seated next to me.

  “I don’t know who he is or where he lives, but I’ve seen him around. I go to the cyber café downtown quite a lot.”

  I interrupted her. “Which one?”

  “It’s called the Avenue,” she said.

  “On Avenue ST?” San asked.

  She nodded her head. “I mean, I went there a few times this past month. I saw him there a few of those times. He made eye contact with me once. I sort of melted a little. He’s a good-looking guy, in a weird creepy way. When he knocked on my door, I was half surprised to see him. But my expression was nothing like the one on his face.”

  I nodded, trying to dictate the speed in which she divulged whatever she knew.

  “Did you sleep with him?” Sa
ntiago asked out of the blue.

  She made a face. I knew that expression. It was one I’d been on the receiving end of on many an occasion at a bar. It was a face full of disgust.

  “What do you take me for? Some sort of ho?” she snapped.

  I’d never heard a white girl from the ’burbs call herself a “ho.” But hey, times are changing. Equality for all. I guess imitation is a form of flattery.

  “I’m not calling you a ho, a skank, or a twat. I just want to know what you know,” I replied.

  San nearly choked on his tongue. I had made him laugh. First time today and all. Progress!

  Her face was a picture, though. She looked as if she was going to rip my head off. But she held back and said, “I didn’t sleep with him. But as I was saying, when he knocked on my door, I could see that he wasn’t expecting me to be there. He recognized me. It was like it bugged him or something. He hesitated, giving me enough time to attempt to shut the door on him. I mean, when I opened the door and saw him, I smiled and all. But then I saw what he was holding in his hands. It was a massive knife. I panicked. I shut the door as hard as I could, but he had stuck his foot into the gap, wedging it there. The force of him throwing the door open made me fall on my ass. I tried to get up, but he lunged on top of me.”

  I interrupted her for clarification. “This all happen in the hallway?”

  She nodded. “He went on top of me and started punching my face. He hit me really hard. That’s why my lips are all sore and red.”

  I couldn’t resist. “Oh, that’s why….”

  She gave me a look but then carried on. “So he was laying into me with some real heavy punches. It was then that I remembered what my self-defense coach had told me.”

  “You take classes?” San asked.

  She nodded. “Kick them in the dick,” she said.

  It made San and me smile. She was a little bit of an airhead, but she knew what she was doing. She was trying to come off that way. But I knew she was playing a role. I just didn’t know why. Teenagers are a strange breed. They can come off as a little odd at times.

  “Just get to the damn point, Amber,” I said.

  “Well, excuse me!” she exclaimed. San gave her a nod and she continued. “So he was punching me, and I kicked him in the balls. He started screaming like a girl. I then saw that there was a wire dangling near my head. A side table with a lampshade was right next to us. I grabbed the wire and pulled the lampshade toward me. It fell on my chest but didn’t break. I then grabbed it and swung it at his head. It smashed into a lot of pieces. He grabbed at his head and ran out of the house. He then stumbled into a black car.”

  “Did you cut him open? Was he bleeding after you smashed him over the head with the lamp?” I asked.

  “CSI found no blood,” San interjected.

  The girl looked a little down. “I wish I had cut him open, but he covered himself up. I didn’t see any blood.”

  I shrugged. There was nothing we could do. Blood or no blood, at least we were on to something.

  “Plates? Did you catch the plates on the car?”

  “No. Sorry.”

  I got back up to my feet and shook my head. “Nah, don’t worry. You’ve been plenty of help.”

  “Make of the car?” San asked.

  “I don’t know. But it was black.”

  I smiled. We might have our guy. From what I could remember from the security footage we caught at the suburbs murder scene, there was a black sedan in the frame. We got a partial on the plates, but the video quality really let us down. The killer got into the car, but not before giving us a wave. The footage was too grainy for us to show the girl. She wouldn’t be able to I.D. the President of the United States on that tape, let alone a nobody she’d seen once or twice. At least we had the cyber café. That could be a lead. But I wasn’t holding my breath.

  Twenty-Four

  RANDOM RICK had a lot on his mind. He was rethinking his whole day. He was thinking about the girl who got away. The fact that she was the only victim so far who wasn’t chosen at random. The fact that she had first laid eyes on him at the very cyber café he was in right then.

  It made him very wary. At any minute the place could be swarming with cops. He’d be arrested. He’d be tried. And then he’d be killed.

  Those were the things that he could look forward to. He knew that he’d made a mistake. He’d grown too confident. And now they’d be able to track him down. They’d be able to name and shame him. Not that he would feel ashamed. He was proud of what he’d accomplished. Not many people his age could say that they’d terrorized the city of Boston. Not many people could say that they had taken seven lives along the way. He planned on taking many more, but maybe his time was running thin. He had to get out of there. The reason he went back was to destroy all evidence that he had been there. He had a software patcher that could wipe all the hard drives and customer logs. He was going to go around the back and rip out the VPN box that triangulated the shop’s IP address. That way, there would be no link between himself and whoever had sold the box to him.

  He was the type of man to keep his friends close. His enemies dead. And the police in the dark.

  But it was all falling apart. Upon returning to the cyber café on Avenue ST, he came across a groupie. She wanted him. She wanted to be part of it all. And now he was having sex with her. He didn’t know why, but he was enjoying it. She wasn’t particularly good-looking. Not like the girl he’d chosen to be his main event. That was his mistake. He chose the wrong girl. He shouldn’t have ever chosen anybody he came across once he was out of his serial killer suit and back into civilian life. He should have stuck to his moniker of RANDOM RICK. Now he was most likely going to be JAILHOUSE RICK after today.

  He wasn’t happy with his mistake, but he realized that there could still be a way out. The police were obviously not on the scene yet. They could still be miles off. Or maybe the girl wouldn’t put two and two together. Maybe she didn’t recognize him. Maybe he was wrong about the look on her face when she saw him at her door, standing there with a nine-inch blade.

  Maybe everything would be fine.

  “Harder!” the goth chick groupie said as he slowed down in thought. Upon hearing her demand more, he had a sudden urge to destroy. A sudden pang for pain. A hunger for blood.

  So he did as she asked. He went harder. And harder. And harder. She screamed. He wasn’t sure whether or not she was enjoying it. Her eyes said one thing. Her lips said another. She arched her back. She was enjoying it. He felt around the floor for something. In the heat of the moment, they had convened on the cyber café’s sticky floor, behind his computer terminal. His hands were searching for something as he went even harder.

  “Oh God, do it now! Do it now!” she screamed.

  He knew what she wanted. He found what he was looking for. His hand gripped it with considerable force. He extended his right arm and then plunged the nine-inch blade in his hand right into her neck. Her eyes momentarily widened in ecstasy. And then the pain washed across her face as the blood left her body. She went limp. Before her eyes closed for good, RANDOM RICK whispered something in her ear.

  “They may never remember the victims, but I’ll always remember you.”

  She breathed one last breath and then passed on. The blood drained from her neck. The knife was still embedded in her skin. RANDOM RICK didn’t move. He just watched as her body lost the glow it once had. And then he burst into tears.

  For some reason, her sacrifice and the fact that she’d wanted to die at his hands made him feel sad. He was no longer just any killer.

  He was somebody’s God.

  Twenty-Five

  I looked at Chief Shaw, who was biting down on his fingernails.

  “We need to get down to the cyber café on Avenue ST. We could miss out if he’s there, and then God knows what will happen. We can’t afford to let this guy slip through the net,” I said, sitting down next to San. We were both seated at Chief Shaw’s desk. Shaw was
pacing behind it. He looked conflicted. For the first time in the investigation, the mayor wasn’t present, which I was more than fine with.

  “I don’t know if we should go making a scene,” Shaw finally said.

  I scrunched my eyes a little. I was trying to focus on what he was saying, but my head was giving me a hard time. My mental health had always been on the finer side of shit. And right now, I was experiencing the usual signs of schizophrenia. The voices were angry. They were berating me. A lot of the time they helped me figure out the true side of people. But this time, all they were doing was questioning my boss’s true intentions with this case. I stood up and smashed my fist on his desk. I believe that was the third time that I’d hit furniture over the past couple of days.

  “What’s your problem, Shaw?” I said, to his surprise.

  “My only problem is your attitude. Now calm down and sit back down. You got that, Frank?”

  I sat back down. “Fuck you, Shaw,” I said, to his dismay.

  “What did you say?” he asked, as if he didn’t hear me the first time.

  I got back up and walked around the desk. He put his hands up in a defensive stance. He knew I was about to make him pay for dicking me around.

  “You listen here,” I bellowed, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck. “You’re wasting valuable time. Make a move on the damn cyber café or I will!” I hissed.

  “Let go of me, Detective!”

  I heard San get up. He put his hand on my shoulder. I turned around and gave him a look. “Don’t you fucking dare move, Santiago. I’m fed up with the both you,” I said, turning back around and looking my boss in the eye.

  “Now you do as I say, or I quit!” I said.

  Shaw shook his head. “You’ll be fired after this. I guarantee you that!” he replied.

  I grabbed him by the neck. “Fire me then, you no-good prick! I don’t care. Do it! Do it now!”

  He stuttered.

  “Exactly. You don’t have the balls. All you’re interested in doing is making my life a misery. I’ll tell you what. After we get this case done and dusted, you can say and do what you like. I’m walking after this. I don’t want anything else to do with your moral compass that’s pointing straight up the mayor’s ass.”