Necessary Evil

by Janelle Taylor

  The Avenger checked the site to make sure its breach wasn’t noticeable to an inspector. “I stole the contact lens you found on Manuel Greene the last time I saw Dr. Wellesley. It’s not my prescription and my eyes are naturally green, so again there’s no link to me. Lucky for me, I was always able to stay one step ahead of you and know which curve balls to throw you.”

  The Avenger turned and headed for home. “You’ll never find out about me, Mallory. I’ve made sure of that. You’d probably be more shocked than my victims were to learn who I am. Who and what I was. Impossible, some would say, but anger has a way of making a person stronger than she might appear. Chloroform and Valium mixed with the other drugs the men had taken on their own, and even I could handle them. Some of them, I had to knock over the head. They were bigger and possibly stronger than the others and I had no intention of getting myself hurt by this scum. Whitehead gave me the biggest problem and just about broke my arm, but he paid dearly for that. Hopefully, some good will come out of all this and the laws will change to protect the innocent instead of the guilty, as the writers of the Constitution intended. Then, there won’t be any need for someone like me. My identity must and will remain a secret forever. You can look all you want, Mallory, but I didn’t leave any clues for you to track me down with. I have to forgive myself and forget what I’ve done. It was all necessary evil.”

  She stopped at the edge of the woods and vowed, “You can rest now, dear Tippi, my beloved best friend. At last you have your justice, thanks to me, your Avenger. I did all of this for you. I love you as if you were my own flesh and blood. Without you and your family to take me in when all became lost to me, my life would have been worth nothing. No one else cared. Now, your parents, my foster parents, are gone, lost to a DUI. Soon, sister to me, you will join them in Heaven. I would be alone except for my new found love. Oh, Tippi, if only you could have met him. If only he could have known you, before Alan McCleary took you away.”

  She stripped off the protective suit and gloves and disposed of them in the hazardous waste incinerator. A covered index finger pressed the ignition button and soon, all evidence of intrusion was gone, only ashes remained. “I’ve been very careful, but if I’m ever exposed or arrested, I’ve already mentally prepared my case for trial. One of those convenient loopholes in the law. Or an insanity plea if all else fails. Just like my victims used to get themselves turned loose. It will be an easy out for the jury. They won’t want to convict the heroic Avenger after my attorney brings out all the details. But if the flawed law or clever shyster fail me, I have a few trick cards up my sleeve. After all, Justice is blind.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Thursday, August 23rd

  Dan sat at his desk and read Alan’s and Glenda’s files again. There had to be something there that he was missing. McCleary was definitely the worst case they had come across so far. Was he the real target? Was that why the Avenger was stopping his work? Was the Avenger really retiring, or was this another hoax to make them complacent while he continued his killings later on or in another town? Maybe Alan had mutilated someone else before and had gotten off on another technicality. He didn’t want to call Tracy Daniels to find out where they had lived prior to coming to Augusta, as the Captain had been adamant that no one contact her without going through him first.

  As he flipped pages in the vic’s file, Dan came across Alan’s parents’ past address and phone number with an Atlanta area code and zip code. They must have been living there when the attack and the investigation was happening with Glenda. He dialed the phone number for the District Attorney’s office and crossed his fingers.

  “Stan Peters. Dan Mallory. How are things in the big city?”

  Stan smiled into the phone. He’d met Dan years ago and liked him. He’d offered Dan a job as an investigator for his department when his troubles up North had forced him to move. Dan had declined in order to partner up with his college roommate, Mory Morrison. He assumed the last couple of years had been rough for Dan and hoped things had gotten better. From an article the paper had run the previous day, it looked as if Dan was encountering more than he’d bargained for in Augusta. “Busy, as usual. Have you changed your mind, and decided to join me in my office? I can use an investigator of your caliber.”

  “The way things are going here, maybe I should have. I guess you’ve heard or read by now about this Avenger?” Dan asked.

  “Yeah, a serial killer to chase. Have any leads?”

  “Not a damn thing, Stan. This guy is good. So damn cocky he leaves his sperm, but nothing else. It’s like he’s taunting us. Actually, that’s why I’m calling. The last victim was Alan McCleary. I think he’s from Atlanta. I was hoping you’d check the name for me. See if he was suspected of or charged with a rape up there.”

  “Sure, no problem. Spell it for me.” After Dan did so, he said, “Hold on a second and I’ll pass this name to my secretary.” He put Dan on hold and buzzed Rowena with instructions that this was a priority. “She’s checking now, Dan. It should only be a few minutes. So, this guy hasn’t left any fingerprints, fibers, nothing? What about the victim’s families? Is there anyone there who might be on a rampage?”

  “I’ve covered everybody in each of the females’ families, and all of their alibis check out. I’ve got an irritating reporter down here, James Starr. He seemed a likely candidate, but that’s fizzling out fast. He has alibis for some of the murder dates, but definitely knows too much and has been entirely too close to the situation. He even bribed one of our officers to slip him reports on the cases and any information we were following up on. We managed to plug that leak, so then he claimed he was receiving anonymous tips on the phone. Supposedly, the Avenger himself even called one night.”

  “Yeah, right. Have you checked him out?”

  “Actually, Mory and his friend did a background check. Looks as if Starr is in the clear. I have to be honest with you, Stan, this Avenger always seems to be one step ahead of us. I can’t figure out how he knows our every move and thought. He left us a message saying he was retired after the McCleary slaughter. If he keeps his word and doesn’t strike again, I’m afraid his trail is dead. It’s looking like a cold case candidate to me.”

  “Hold on a second, Dan. Rowena just came back in.”

  Again, Dan crossed his fingers and prayed.

  “Sorry, Dan. He wasn’t charged with a crime here. Rowena ran his name through our computer, and he didn’t show up anywhere. No first offender, nothing. We can keep looking and see what we can find, if you think he might have been here.”

  “I don’t know anything for sure, but I’m betting Glenda isn’t the first person Alan attacked. He’s got to have a history from somewhere. I just have to find out where.”

  “Fax me his file. I’ll look into it further. See if I can discover anything.”

  “I really appreciate this, Stan.”

  “You’re welcome. And if you ever change your mind about Augusta, you know you have the investigative job here with me.”

  “Thanks, Stan, but I’ll be staying here. I’ve found more incentive to remain.”

  “This Avenger case has got you bad, huh?”

  “Yeah, but my reasons are a little more personal.”

  “You found yourself a nice Southern girl?”

  “Something like that.” Dan grinned through the phone at his friend.

  “When do I get to meet her?”

  “Soon. Maybe we’ll stop through Atlanta on our way to Montana.”

  Stan whistled before responding, “You’re taking her to your cabin? I’ll be damned. Good for you. This must be serious.”

  “Yeah. It’s going so well, it’s scaring the hell out of me.”

  “I know that feeling. I’ve been married for twelve years and Margie still scares the hell out of me. Listen, Dan, I have somebody waiting for me. Call me and let me know when you’re coming through and we’ll get together. Meantime, I’ll keep a watch out for the McCleary name.”


  “Thanks, Stan. See you soon. Kiss your wife for me.”

  “Will do. Bye, old buddy.”

  Dan glanced down at the file again. He saw that Alan had been remanded to the psychiatric ward at Georgia Regional. It was past time to pay them a visit and see why they had let McCleary out so soon.

  Dan was ushered into Doctor Walter Pickett’s office to wait for him. There were many certificates and awards on the wall, attesting to the credentials of this physician. A neurologist and psychiatrist, so where had everything—he—gone wrong?

  “You must be Lieutenant Mallory. I think we have an appointment. That’s today, right? Maybe I should ask Miss...ugh...my assistant.”

  Dan studied the man walking through the door whom he had researched briefly for this meeting. He was in his late sixties. Sparse black hair scattered amidst mostly wiry gray. A factitious smile that curved his thin, pale lips did not reach his lackluster eyes. His gaze and mood seemed troubled, odd, almost confused at times. A lanky frame exposed slightly humped shoulders. His gait wasn’t normal, but only a trained eye would notice it. And the light tremor in his left hand. It didn’t take Dan’s keen wits long to sense a languid manner, a man with problems.

  “Are you Doctor Pickett?”

  “Yes, I am. I suppose you’re here about Alan. I heard about my ex-patient’s murder on the news the other night. You think it’s the work of the Avenger?” He let the question hang in the air, one asked in a quivery voice, that soon became near monotone.

  “Yes, we do. What can you tell me about Alan McCleary?”

  The physician sat down at his desk and settled his white lab coat. He opened the file laying in the middle of it. A nurse had placed the fat folder there after Dan told her why he had come. “Let’s see,” he murmured as he fingered through pages, pausing to glance at some, and licking his index finger to turn more papers. “Ah, yes, just refreshing my memory on certain points. Alan McCleary was deeply disturbed when he was brought here three years ago. He claimed his mother had abused him, physically, sexually and emotionally. We were never able to prove it one way or the other. He had no scars, but was wholly convincing. His mother said Alan’s stories were preposterous, fabricated lies. His sister swore they couldn’t be true. There were intangible signs that something traumatic had occurred in that household, but was never sure the mother was responsible. I was inclined to believe Alan inflicted those emotional wounds on himself.”

  “What do you mean, Doctor?”

  Pickett stared at the wall for a moment, then said, “Alan seemed to have a desperate need to feel and claim that he was abused. An excuse for his bad behavior. I tried to get him not to focus on the past, but to channel the anger and hurt into more positive directions. I was hoping he could identify what the real problem was. One day, about a year ago, he woke up and he seemed changed. It was as if he had awakened from a bad dream. He smiled, laughed, talked clearly and logically. He had broken free of the past, let go of any evil inside him. All he thought and talked about were good things. It was amazing, a miracle. My treatments had worked for him. I continued what we were doing. He made an excellent case study. And he was eager to help me.”

  Dan noted how Pickett’s voice, mood, and gaze filled with excitement. It was like watching the doctor do a one eighty in front of him. Clearly this man had mental and physical problems. Clearly he needed treatment, needed to retire or be dismissed. He listened and observed closely as Pickett continued.

  “By the time Alan was released, he wasn’t having nightmares about his mother or Glenda any more. He was making plans for the future. He talked of going back to school and getting a job. In his first two years with me, he always claimed he had loved Glenda. He vowed he didn’t mean to hurt her. Alan said things got carried away after a problem with his mother. He said it was like he was in a trance, demon possessed, and he killed her in the heat of temporary insanity.”

  “Why did you release him after only three years of treatment? For what he did, that doesn’t seem long enough.” Dan was worried about getting correct answers from a doctor who should be a patient there in his opinion. Possibly Alan had duped Pickett into setting him free. He was aware of how long and hard the doctor considered his query.

  “I was convinced he was no longer a danger to himself or anyone, of course. We’ll never know if I was right or not. He was killed before he had a chance to adjust to life outside. To prove my treatments worked. He was supposed to come see me every two weeks and take his meds to keep his head clear. He’s dead, so no more visits or pills.”

  “Did anyone ever write him? Did he ever receive any calls or visitors? Did he make any calls or write any letters?”

  “No, not even to or from his family. I was extremely surprised when his sister agreed to let him stay with her. That’s the only way he got released, a home and a guardian. She hadn’t had any contact with him during the three years he was an inpatient here. Sad. Very sad. But Alan accepted it. He knew he had been bad. I talked to his sister. I told her he was cured and she would be safe. Alan would never hurt...Tracy, right? She came to see us and took him home. He was being good until he was killed. That’s what his sister told me over the phone.”

  “Who was notified of his impending release?”

  Pickett found the needed page. “We contacted his next of kin, his sister. I told you all of that. We notified the police and District Attorney, as a matter of record. And the girl’s parents out of courtesy. That’s it. We don’t make a big deal of releasing someone who’s rehabilitated, so there isn’t an uproar in town. There’s no way Alan could have successfully re-assimilated into society with the reception he was sure to have received.”

  “What made you think he was ready? What guarantee could you give the people of Augusta that he wouldn’t commit the same crime again?”

  “I wouldn’t release a patient I thought might be a danger to anyone, if only to himself. Unknowingly, I placed him in a precarious situation. He was safer here with us. After that awful article in yesterday’s paper, I’m sure it was difficult for Alan to live with someone who thought about him the way his sister did. Such terrible things for people to read.”

  “Can you really blame her? Alan was evil. You know what he did to get sent here. He should have gone to prison after being released from your care.”

  “My job isn’t about blaming anyone. It’s about helping people to account for their own actions. Help them let go of the past. Help them make changes in their minds and lives so they can deal with whatever life throws them after release.”

  Dan could tell he was making the doctor agitated and angry, but he couldn’t resist one last jab. “I wonder if you could have helped Glenda deal with what McCleary threw at her. I guess we’ll never know that, will we?” Dan stood up. Before Doctor Pickett had a chance to respond, he continued, “I wonder what the Avenger has dodged. How long do you think it would take to heal him? Or, like McCleary, is he just delusional and therefore, not really dangerous?” Dan left the physician stuttering indignantly at his back.

  Friday, August 24th

  “You sit there and relax while I get this cleaned up,” Andrea told Dan as she cleared the table after their dinner. She noticed he hadn’t eaten much, but had refrained from scolding him. That was the last thing he needed right now. She watched as he put his head in his hands and leaned his elbows on the table.

  “We don’t even know where to look or what to do any more, Andi. The Avenger is smart and methodical. He’s given us little to nothing useful to go on. He has our entire team stumped; me, Mory, Henri, Harold, and Ray. Mory and I even checked out Henri, Harold and Ray on the sly. We’re positive none of them is our vigilante or accomplice. Even James Starr has been cleared and deleted. Our suspect pool is empty. Mory and I will stay on the case until the Captain orders us otherwise. But, we have no suspects, no conclusive evidence, no promising leads—nothing but dead ends. If McCleary was his last victim, we may never find him. Right now, it surely is pointing in that directio
n. Damn. I want him bad, Andi. I called my friend, the District Attorney in Atlanta, yesterday.”

  “Stan Peters? Why did you call him?” she asked as she finished her tasks.

  “Tracy and her family were from Atlanta. I decided to see if Alan had committed the same crime there, but Stan had nothing on him. Maybe this case doesn’t rest with McCleary like I suspected.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I saw Dr. Pickett yesterday. He’s a strange bird.” Dan related the details of that meeting to her, then added, “I think he’s gone off the deep end. I think he allowed our vic to delude him. I believe Pickett’s mental state evoked McCleary’s release. It was wrong. Too soon, if ever. A huge mistake. As I was leaving Regional, a nurse told me Dr. Pickett is going on leave as of today. If I need any more information, I’m to see his replacement. I guess after my visit, they realized Pickett was acting irrational. They’re lucky Alan didn’t commit another crime before he was killed. Who knows, maybe we’re all lucky the Avenger prevented him from doing evil again. Tracy and Starr said Alan hadn’t gotten into trouble before, so I guess he isn’t the key to solving this case. As with all the other attacks, the Avenger only did to Alan what he had done to Glenda. Or as close as possible with sex differences.”

  “I hope and pray it’s over, Dan, so we can get this evil and gore out of our lives and minds. Out of our conversations. Cindi and Brian have made up, and she’s gone home. It’s just you and me again. Even Mory and Janie are settled, according to her.”