Necessary Evil

by Janelle Taylor

  “You’re right, Dan, we need to get this guy before another nut job decides to seek revenge for wrongs done to him or his family members. The public needs to see this perp exposed and punished, so nobody else tries to take the law into his own hands and ends up in jail or dead. Or worse, kills an innocent person.”

  “Yeah, Captain, I know. We’ll put this Charles Bronson wannabe out of commission soon. I’ll call you if I come up with anything today.”

  After Dan hung up the phone, he took a hot shower, certain this was going to be another long and difficult day. He wondered if Phillips had read the papers and realized Karen was involved. Had he tried to contact her? He hoped not. Karen was definitely in a fragile state when they’d left her last night. Dressed in jeans and a white button down shirt, Dan poured himself another cup of coffee, made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and grabbed his legal pad to make notes.

  Later, the doorbell rang as Dan was studying his completed list. Carrying his coffee mug with him, he answered the summons to find a stricken-faced Mory standing there. “You’re up early and you look worse than I do, and your name wasn’t plastered in the papers to rile the Captain. More trouble with Janie?”

  “No, Dan. Karen Carter. . . she killed herself yesterday, after we left. She sliced her wrists with a razor blade and bled to death. Father Murphy called the station when he couldn’t reach her after she left him a scary message on his answering machine. Damn! I want to get this case over with!” Mory sat down on the sofa and put his head in his hands. “She was barely twenty-one, Dan. She was so young and inexperienced. Sometimes this crazy world just makes me sick.”

  Dan sat down in his La-Z-Boy chair and propped his elbows on his knees. “Shit! Karen killed herself? Mory, we shouldn’t have left her there alone yesterday. I knew she was upset, but I didn’t think she’d—”

  “I didn’t either, Dan. I was certain she’d call Father Murphy and ask him to come over to be with her. She was so young.” Mory stood up and began to pace.

  “We aren’t responsible for what she did, Mory, but damn!” Dan stopped as words eluded him. “The best thing we can do for her now is to catch the man responsible. One of the female victims has already paid for his actions. Let’s go visit Frank Phillips and see what he has to say. Hopefully, he hasn’t found out about Karen yet, so we can catch him off guard. No matter what Karen thought, only a total creep wouldn’t have been affected by last year’s events. How did you get this grim news?”

  “The cops sent over to check out any signs of foul play found my card on her table, and Rawlings called me. She’s already at the morgue and ruled a suicide. So far, no reporters have come around before or after her death.”

  “We can bet Starr will exploit it. Let’s hope those TV boys either let it go or don’t harp on it very long.”

  “Got a call from Lisa’s brother. He taped the pieces of my card together to get my number. Wanted to make sure it was okay to get Lisa out of town before another media frenzy was gnawing at her. I told him to get her gone fast. Once Starr’s story broke, I knew all the TV reporters would jump into the melee.”

  “Good thinking, Mory. At least they’re safe from media torture.”

  “Let’s go. You driving? My car is almost out of gas. I forgot to stop on the way over. After I called the station to fill in the Captain about Karen and Lisa, I was so pissed, I just drove straight here. I’m sure you want to pay a visit to Starr, too.”

  Dan grinned, but his eyes didn’t show any humor. “I’d like to beat the living shit out of him personally, but I’ll settle for shaking him up a bit.”

  Dan and Mory drove to Frank’s apartment and rang the doorbell.

  Mory picked up the Sunday edition that was still on the doormat and commented, “He hasn’t gotten this morning’s paper yet, so either he’s not up, or he’s out of town.”

  A woman came out of the next apartment and asked, “Can I help you?”

  “We’re looking for Frank Phillips. Do you know if he’s out of town or at work?” Mory asked.

  Frank and his fiancé left yesterday morning to go camping at the lake. He’s supposed to be back late tonight,” the female offered, glancing at the shiny shields on their belts. “Do you want to leave him a note that you’re looking for him? I have tape you can use to put a note on his door.”

  “No thanks, ma’am. We’ll catch up with him later,” Dan replied.

  Mory kept the paper clutched under his arm as they walked to Dan’s car and got inside. “Maybe he’ll be too tired when he gets home to go buy one. That’ll give us the edge in the morning. If no one calls to tell him Karen committed suicide last night.”

  “Good thinking, Mory. I usually just want to hit the shower and bed after I get home from camping. Maybe we’ll get lucky on this one. If Phillips killed Silverman for Karen Carter, then offed Crouch as a cover, it seems as if he would have been in town yesterday or today to console her. If he’s our man, surely he realized we would make a connection and question everybody involved in the original cases. I checked out the April papers, but Silverman’s murder didn’t make big news; that’s probably why Karen didn’t know about it. Seems our boys managed to keep that crime low-key and the details a secret. Frankly, I doubt Phillips would kill someone for her and then leave town with his new fiancée. Unless he hasn’t seen her in a long time and didn’t know how fragile she was. What do you think?”

  “What better alibi? But I’d have to agree with you. If I’d done that for my woman, I’d want to be there when she had to face her past again. I’m eager to hear what he has to say about both recent crimes and Karen’s death. If he’s guilty, I bet he never imagined his revenge would provoke her to suicide.”

  “Even if he isn’t involved, he’s gonna feel like shit for dumping her when she needed him the most, and he should. That was a cruel and lousy thing to do to the woman he supposedly loved and intended to marry in two weeks.” Dan glanced at his wristwatch as he suppressed his anger and disgust. “It’s almost two; let’s go see if Henri and Harold have anything useful for us. Then, we’ll tackle Starr.”

  Dan drove his unmarked car to the local branch of the State Crime Lab. There were no signs marking the entrance or building, and the site had a privacy fence around its entire circumference. No marked cars were allowed to visit there or park on the street in front of the location. Those precautions kept it a secret from anyone who might try to destroy it to get rid of evidence. Even most police officers didn’t know the location of the Lab, which increased the guarantee that it’s whereabouts would remain hidden. Dan drove to the gate and pushed the button to alert the security guard inside.

  “Who is it?” the gravelly voiced guard muttered over the intercom.

  “Lieutenant Dan Mallory and Sergeant Mory Morrison. Thank goodness Masters is over.” Dan spoke their names and then the current entry code into the box. Mory had told him it was a joke every year in the department after the Augusta National Masters Golf Tournament ended. Millions of tourists and golf fans came to enjoy the beautiful flowers and see the professionals play. It was a crazy time for the police; many took their vacations and worked security at the gates. Others pulled long overtime hours to fill in for those who were lucky enough to have garnered that lucrative duty. And those worked long hours controlling traffic and wrecks and arresting scalpers. Some visitors had been known to pay up to two thousand dollars for a ticket.

  “Hey, Dan, Mory. Warren here. Henri’s expecting you. Come on through.”

  The gate swung open and Dan drove to the front entrance, hidden from the street by the fence and large Red Tips. Knowing Warren was still watching them on security cameras in his booth, Dan and Mory waved. The front door was buzzed open and they walked into a room that passed for a waiting area. The door leading to the hallway was open, so Dan and Mory headed toward the office area.

  Henrietta Harper was sitting at her desk immersed in a file. She glanced up and smiled at the two men. “Hey there. I saw the paper. That report
er wants your blood, Mallory. You’d better watch your back, or he’ll have a knife in it quick. He even tried to get the number for the Lab to give me a call. Humph! Like I would talk to him. I finished the autopsy on Crouch and I’ve pulled the file on Silverman. The similarities are clear. I think we’re going to find that the same man murdered both of them.”

  “Tell me you’ve got something good for us, Henri. A fingerprint, a hair, a fiber, a drop of the perp’s blood, anything,” Dan pleaded. “We’re going to have more justice seekers out there if we don’t get this cocky vermin off the streets.”

  “I’d hate to see that happen. If some pissed off individual gets his brains blown out by the same snake who raped his daughter and walked free, we’ve got a riot on our hands.”

  “Henri, you sure you didn’t feed this reporter any information, so you could drum up some more business?” Mory teased to lighten a dark situation.

  “Listen here, Mory, I’ve got more dead bodies in the cooler than I ever saw in my entire career as a cop. I don’t need any Avenger’s help to keep me busy. It’s insane what this world is coming to.”

  “It’s even more insane what the Captain is going to do to me if I don’t get this vigilante. What do you have for us?” Dan asked Henrietta to get the conversation back on track. He wanted time to find James Starr and have a few choice words with him before this day ended. No doubt he would attend Bolton’s news conference at four this afternoon.

  Henrietta began, “I’d say the man you’re looking for is very well endowed. His pecker’s got to be huge... judging by the amount and severity of the oral and rectal damage. So, you boys can rule out any suspects with a small to average penis.”

  “You’ll need a lotta evidence to get a warrant for a strip search,” Harold remarked as he joined them. “Sorry boss, go on with your report.”

  “No lubrication was used, but our killer ejaculated. I’ve sent semen swabs to LifeCo for testing. They have a better system for that and can do it faster since they already have the equipment. I should hear back from them by Thursday. DNA testing tells us a lot and can pinpoint someone with greater accuracy than a simple blood test. I’ve also asked for a copy of the report for Ted Silverman. Apparently, it was never received and that lazy, incompetent Ed didn’t bother to follow up on it. We’ll know then if the same guy killed both of these men. I doubt David Crouch was gay, because there were no scars from any previous tearing. No drugs or alcohol in any significant amount in his bloodstream. Harold hasn’t found any unusual hairs or fibers from the scene. But I did find something interesting.”

  Henri looked down at the two open files on her desk and frowned. “I’ll bet Ed didn’t think to look for anything strange because of all the needle marks on Silverman’s body.”

  “What are you talking about, Henri?”

  “I found a fresh needle mark on the inside of Crouch’s right elbow where he was injected with something. Since we didn’t find any drugs or needles, I’m assuming our perp did the pricking and disposing. Poor Harold had to go through all that trash and filth making sure we didn’t miss any evidence.”

  All four exchanged grimaces as they recalled the nasty and cluttered apartment.

  “It appears Crouch died from heart failure, but I think his heart was given a jump-start and I don’t mean by fear. I think our killer shot him up with something that made it appear that his ticker went out. But it’s not something that shows up on the usual tests. I’ve sent slides to the Lab in Atlanta to determine what was used. From photos taken, Silverman’s arms and legs were covered in needle scars. Ed didn’t think a fresh stick on him was suspicious because he didn’t note or test it, assuming our perp killed him in the same way. Silverman did have drugs in his system, according to the file. But the levels suggest he wasn’t high enough at the time of death for that to have been a participating factor. Despite his injuries and according to dear ole Ed, he apparently died of heart failure, just like Crouch.”

  “You’re sure they weren’t willing victims, Henri? It takes different strokes for different folks. Maybe these guys liked it rough, at least in the beginning,” Dan challenged her. He already knew the answer, but he wanted undeniable proof that it wasn’t anything consensual.

  “Crouch gagged on his own vomit. I’d venture to say none of us would be throwing up if we were really into sadism or masochism. The burns on his wrists and ankles tell of a fierce struggle to free himself. Sadomasochists have a so-called safe word to stop the action if things go too far. I know some people like to play games and I’ll bet even you’ve used your own handcuffs a time or two,” Henrietta teased and winked at Mory, “but I think the struggle went beyond that. I’ll bet my license this man was trying to get away from his captor.”

  “I’ve never used my own cuffs, Henri, honest,” Mory grinned and winked back at her, “but I wonder if...”

  “Don’t go there, Mory. I’d eat you up with a spoon and then your wife would be mad at both of us.” Henrietta enjoyed needling Mory, as they had been friends for a long time on the force.

  “All right, you two, knock it off. You got anything else for us?”

  “The victims were bound in a similar manner. There was evidence that each was gagged and blindfolded at some point during the assaults. It’s doubtful either of the men had ever consummated a homosexual affair, for certain Crouch had a virgin ass. Their rapes were extremely rough and violent. I’ve made some notes for you to take with you and Harold has lots of photos to give you.”

  Dan took the packet and thanked him, then teased, “Henri, if you weren’t already married, I’d marry you myself.”

  “Just get your partner to talk to me some more about those handcuffs of his,” Henrietta joked back. “Now, get out of here so I can get my work finished. My old man has promised to grill some steaks for us tonight and clean up afterwards. I can’t be late for that; it doesn’t happen often.”

  “Have a good time tonight, Henri. I’ll be thinking of you,” Mory said, as he rattled his cuffs, winked his merry green eyes and walked out the door.

  “That boy is something else, Dan. Keep him straight.”

  “That job is too big for me, Henri. It takes a woman to do that kind of work,” Dan said with a smile and followed his partner, after telling Harold goodbye.

  “Both of you are trouble,” she shouted to their backs and refocused on her grisly task at hand, with Harold’s assistance.

  “Let’s go find James Starr,” Dan muttered as they got into his car.

  “We need a few minutes of your time,” Dan told James Starr on the front steps of his one-story house. “We have a few questions for you.”

  “I’m always available to help out the law, Lieutenant Mallory. Please come inside. Can I get you boys something to drink?” James used a soft voice to belie the animosity he felt towards the man who had insulted him twice in the last two days.

  “No thanks. This isn’t a social call,” Dan warned as they stepped into the foyer.

  As James led them to the living area, he knew he had no intention of letting anyone or anything stand in the way of this story, least of all, Dan Mallory. He had scooped every reporter in the area, and he would continue to be the lead source, no matter what he had to do to stay on top. No, to rise even higher. He hated living in Georgia; it was hot and humid. It was sucking the life out of him and making him do reckless things for escape. But the locals were friendly and talkative, which made his job easier. Up North, no one ever saw or heard anything during the commission of a crime; here, most wanted to talk to their friends and the authorities about whatever they had seen, and he readily exploited their kindness like a snake charmer.

  Dan noticed the great room was furnished with white rattan couches and matching tables. The cushions were big and inviting. The steel blue and forest green colors were soothing to the eye. Two lush plants hung in baskets beside the lengthy span of windows and several silk trees and other containers of greenery were positioned here and there. A bookcase on one w
all held books, decorative objects, assorted framed pictures and keepsakes. Another wall displayed a fireplace with a painting suspended over its mantle, a tranquil marsh scene in hues of green and blue. A ceiling fan on a low setting moved the air just enough to feel its presence. But the focal point was a forty-inch screen television. The sofas formed a semi-circle before it, so every seat was a good viewing one. Just the sort of neat, cozy, and relaxing place you’d want to bear your soul. Only your words would end up on the front page the next day if they were juicy enough. It was good to see a viper in his pit, to see how he lived and behaved.

  “What can I do for you boys? I’m assuming you’ve read my article by now. Right, Lieutenant?” James taunted, emerald eyes sparkling with conceit and disdain.

  Dan grinned as he noted Starr’s character revelations. “Yes, I did manage to read it after the comics and sports. My alma mater won last night, I’m proud to say.” He couldn’t refrain from goading the man one last time, but Starr chuckled.

  “Good for you, Lieutenant. You’re lucky you caught me at home, because I’m working from here today,” unless I get that phone call, “so what do you need to talk about?”

  “You didn’t attend the news conference today?”

  “Not necessary. I’ve got plenty for my article tomorrow. Have you reconsidered my idea of working together? Obviously we might be able to help each other. Unless, of course, you’ve already linked the past rapes with the current murders. Though I’m sure I made that connection before you did.”

  “That’s precisely what we’d like to know, Starr; where did you get your information? There were things in your article which weren’t released to the public.”

  “I have my sources, which I’m not required by law to give you. I’m allowed to keep their names confidential. So, if that’s the only reason you came by, you’ve wasted my time and yours.”