No, he had learned his lesson and he was not about to risk everything by acting on impulse again.
If he did decide to try such a chipper experiment, he would not act on impulse. He would plan it very carefully first.
Linda had installed the new profiling software into the computer system Dave’s squad was using just over three months ago. It was pretty good, but his team was still experiencing some minor glitches that had shown up. With Linda’s help, they had solved most of those problems by early September and by the end of the month it was running smoothly.
Once Dave’s people got more comfortable using it, they began to apply it to a larger number of cases, almost fifty percent of the Major Crime investigations.
It was still too early to produce a statistical evaluation of how effective this tool was turning out to be when it came to the overall conviction rate, but several outstanding cases appeared to have produced some very positive results.
Predictably, these high-profile successes had produced a snowball effect in relation to how the other members of the department viewed the whole concept of profiling. When Dave had first come up with the idea, there had been many departmental naysayers, some of them that held relatively high rank, who had openly expressed the opinion that it was good street policing, not geek computer programmers, that caught crooks.
At the time, that faction had been in the majority, but by the end of September that was turning around.
As a result, the workload had increased yet again and the Chief had provided Dave with a second civilian entry clerk and an additional detective to expand his team.
Dave had personally interviewed and selected the young new detective.
He’d been looking for someone with a good street record, someone who also demonstrated a high level of computer proficiency, and who could hopefully and effectively deal with any little problems which showed in the software Linda had designed, and on an ongoing basis, upgrade segments to improve it.
His selection process had left him with a man who had turned out to be more than capable of dealing with any glitches, with a simple call to Linda, whenever they popped up.
Although the need for this kind of tweak was occurring rarely now, when it did, it was dealt with within minutes instead of holding up the entire process for days, as it had in the past.
Linda had turned thirty on July fourth and predictably, she was becoming concerned about her biological clock ticking away.
She and Dave had been discussing having children over the past few months and had recently decided that they should try to get pregnant.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- September 1997 -
Turning eighteen brought about several changes in Kenny’s life.
Granny played a large part in these changes. She had been clearly going downhill again and he had begun to panic at the thought of her kicking the bucket before he made it to nineteen.
He decided he needed to persuade her to go through another stem cell treatment. He turned to the nurse for support to assist him in convincing the old lady to make another trip to the States.
Kenny figured that the nurse had it pretty good in her current position. She was very well paid and the job of looking after Granny wasn’t all that taxing. That being the case, he reckoned it was in her own self-interest to support Kenny in his endeavour.
He’d managed to build up a pretty good relationship with the nurse over the past couple of years and he knew how to manipulate her. It only took him a couple of weeks to get her on board with the idea.
By the third week in the month, Granny was headed for the States. Kenny hoped to hell that he’d made the right decision and that the trip itself didn’t kill her. All he needed was one more year out of her, then it wouldn’t matter.
He was on pins and needles until she was back home.
Before the old lady left, impressed by his concern for her physical wellbeing, she’d informed Kenny that he would now be receiving a regular paycheque for his work with Walter and had also relented on her restriction regarding Kenny’s not being allowed to leave the property at night.
Having some money of his own would be great and Kenny was very excited about the possibilities this would provide. Those two things would give him an opportunity to broaden his horizons.
He was too keyed up to take advantage of this newfound freedom while Granny was in the States. He did however spend some time surfing around on the net looking for what he could find that would allow him to satisfy some of his growing sexual needs.
By the time the old lady had returned, looking a good deal better than she had when she left, thank God, he had already selected the place where he would make his first night trip. It was in Vancouver at a spot where teenaged boys apparently openly offered sex for money.
On the net, it was referred to as ‘boy’s town’.
Kenny was very excited about the prospect of experiencing that, but he had been working on another idea for some time and after Granny had been back home for a week and things were mostly back to normal in the household, he decided that he was ready for the next chipper test.
Over the summer they had taken to leaving the dog out over night. For the past week, in the early evenings, Kenny had been taking ‘Vicious’ with him up to the yard when he used the excavator to empty the work trucks and fill in depressions on the property.
In the last week of the month, Walter had instructed the drivers to check their trucks for antifreeze as the weather would soon turn colder.
The next day Kenny took the dog with him as usual and once they got up to the yard, Kenny let the him roam for a bit while he went into the garage where the antifreeze was stored and helped himself to a partial jug of the stuff.
He then carried the jug out to where the trucks were parked and set it down while he looked underneath the line of vehicles until he found what he was looking for.
Under the front of the third truck he spotted a few drops of green antifreeze on the ground where it had landed when the driver had filling the radiator. It was only a couple of drops but it was enough to fit into his plan.
He got the jug, opened it and then hunched down and reached under the truck and poured about half of the contents directly onto the spot where the drops were. Then he called the dog over to him and let nature take its course.
Just like the net had suggested, the stupid dog loved the stuff.
Kenny stood and watched to be sure the dog would keep lapping away and he did until it was all gone except a stain of green.
He then loaded the dog into the dump truck and began his usual work to dispose of the cuttings the trucks had brought in that day.
He kept an eye on the dog and after about an hour ‘Vicious’ was beginning to react, wandering around like a drunk and drooling like crazy
Kenny had carefully memorized all the symptoms of an antifreeze poisoning and so far, everything was proving out. A couple of hours later, he finished up and found he had to lift the listless dog into the cab of the excavator for the trip back to the yard.
The dog had begun to vomit by the time he got there. Kenny left him in the cab lying in his own puke, while he pressure-washed the chippers, then he hauled the dog out and dumped him into the box of the little red Ford pickup.
As he was driving back down to the house he adjusted his rear-view mirror so he could keep an eye on the dog who was rolling around in the back and noticed that ‘Vicious’ had begun to piss himself.
When he was about a hundred yards from the house he stopped the truck, and lifted the dog out of the box and carried him about twenty feet into the woods and then dropped him into the brambles below a large deciduous tree.
When he arrived back to the house for dinner he was whistling happily.
The next morning the housekeeper, who usually fed the dog in the morning, put his food out as usual. She wasn’t particularly surprised to find that the dog was not at the door. Several times in the past, the dog had not shown up till later in the
day.
Kenny was impatient, filled with eagerness to reach his final goal, but he forced himself to stick to his carefully worked out plan.
That evening, when he went out to get into the little pickup, he stood in the yard calling the dog loud enough to attract the attention of the housekeeper who came out onto the back porch. He crossed over to speak to her and asked if she had seen the dog. She glanced down at the food bowl and shook her head and told him she hadn’t and that his food looked like it hadn’t been touched.
Kenny reacted as he figured he should, frowning and slouching his shoulders and then went into the house with the housekeeper trailing along behind him and into the office were Walter was just finishing up for the day.
The three of them talked for a few minutes and then he and Walter went back out into the yard. Walter loudly called for the dog. When he got no response, he turned to Kenny and shook his head. Kenny looked as upset as he could fake it and let out a deep sigh. Walter rested a hand on his shoulder and suggested the two of them split up and look for the dog.
Kenny readily agreed and said he’d search the area around the house if Walter went up to the yard and had a look around there.
Walter took off in his truck and Kenny watched him disappear before he headed out into the bush. He found a nice quiet spot out behind the pig pen and settled down with his back to a tree.
About an hour later Kenny heard a horn honk and he roused himself, brushed the leaves off his butt, put on the sad face he’d ritually practiced in front of the bathroom mirror and headed back to the house.
He and Walter commiserated for a bit and then Walter told him not to be too worried, the dog would probably be back in the morning.
Kenny nodded and maintained the sad face until Walter’s pickup was out of sight, then he headed into his room. Once inside he locked the door, dropped the façade and fixed himself a drink. He grinned as he sat down at his keyboard.
Experience had taught him that people who were really upset didn’t have much of an appetite. He was hungry, but as part of his plan, he intended to beg off eating dinner. Earlier, he’d stashed a couple of sandwiches in his night table. They would do until the morning. Until then, as far as everyone else was concerned, he was moping because he couldn’t find the dog. Before retiring, Kenny set his alarm so he could climb out of bed early enough to be sure to be up before anyone else was around.
When it went off, he dressed quickly and headed for the kitchen, where he wolfed down a large chunk of cheese and a glass of milk and then put on his sad face as he heard the housekeeper coming down the hall toward the kitchen. He solemnly passed on eating any breakfast.
Most of that day Kenny, depressed face fixed in place, shuffled along and was not very responsive as he and Walter did some more searching.
It was a big property and as Kenny had expected, they had no luck.
When they got back to the house, Kenny retreated to his room, although he did later allow himself to be coerced into coming out just long enough to eat a little dinner.
The next morning Walter was too busy to help him search and Kenny, carrying a couple of sandwiches the housekeeper had prepared without being asked, headed out on his own. He drove the little Ford pickup down the road to where he had left the dog and, after eating one of the sandwiches, he got out and walked into the bush.
The dog wasn’t quite dead but when he kicked him with his foot, he didn’t respond. Kenny lifted him and carried him back to the road and the dropped him into the truck’s box.
He took time to leisurely eat the other sandwich and then, whistling softly to himself, he turned the truck around and headed back to the house.
Things went rapidly after he got there. In a matter of minutes, they were headed out the driveway.
The vet, a different one this time, said it was too late to do anything.
After speaking with a somber Kenny for a few moments, the vet told him and Walter that he couldn’t be sure yet, but he thought it looked like antifreeze poisoning. He told them the dog was suffering and should be put down.
Walter was as mad as hell as they drove back to the property and he went directly into the yard and jumped out of the cab of the truck and stomped over to where the trucks were normally parked at night. It didn’t take him long to find the large stain left where Kenny had dumped the antifreeze.
As Kenny had hoped, that really got him furious.
Kenny watched all this carefully from the cab of the truck, but stayed mute throughout, ensuring that the sad expression on his face was prominent.
When they arrived back at the house, Kenny told them that he wanted to bury the dog by himself and, taking note of his obvious distress, they acquiesced.
He then put on a good show for them. Gently wrapping the body in an old blanket before shifting it to the back of the little Ford pickup, and then he got in and drove slowly back down the driveway to the yard.
There he unloaded the dog and carried it around behind a shed and unceremoniously dumped it into the hollow where he had earlier stowed the dead bunnies. He stared at it for a few moments, then kicked some leaves over it.
After that he wandered around the yard to idle away a couple of hours, before he returned to the house.
When he got there Walter called him into the office and sat him down. Kenny, hoping he appeared suitably depressed, said little as Walter went on and on about death and how one needed to go through a period of mourning, but must get over that as soon as possible and get on with life.
At the end, Kenny quietly told him he would try.
That evening a more stable Kenny went into the office just as Walter was leaving and thanked him for the talk. He announced that starting now, he would do his best to get over the loss of ‘Vicious’ and that he’d try to remember to stop moping. Maybe he would go for a long walk into the bush to think about things for a bit.
Walter was pleased with the turn of events and on his way out of the house, he told the housekeeper what had transpired between him and the boy. She’d nodded her head in understanding, saying that it was a good thing for the lad to keep himself busy now.
Kenny drove to the yard and promptly started up the ‘Behemoth’. He fed a few branches into it and then got the dog and tossed it in with the next batch.
What a power trip!
It worked awesome, not even a hiccup as the body went through!
That done, he happily carried out his usual routine for emptying the parked trucks.
Before he went back to the house, he did an extra careful job of power-washing out all the chippers, giving special attention to the new one.
When Dave had been assigned to his latest position by the Chief, the Inspector in charge of Major Crime, Jim Henderson, had been in the doubter’s camp as far as far as the positive results of profiling went.
Thanks to the conclusive results now being produced by the new unit, that point of view appeared to have turned around several months ago.
Predictably, in the initial stages, and although it was under his direct command, Henderson had not paid a great deal of attention to the new unit. He was an old-timer, and he hadn’t particularly welcomed the Chief’s direct involvement from upstairs in setting up the profiling unit, which Henderson took as interference in his personal bailiwick.
He hadn’t said as much publicly of course. He was only a couple of years away from retirement and he knew better than to openly buck the Chief. However, he was a tough old bird and once the new unit was in place, he’d made it quite clear to Dave, in a private one-on-one, that he wasn’t going to hold his breath in anticipation of wondrous results from the new unit.
With Dave working nights of late, he and the Inspector very rarely crossed paths. That aside, there were small signs that Henderson had warmed up a bit to Dave, and had even begun giving him a receptive nod when they infrequently crossed paths, a definite improvement over the scowls Dave had previously become used to.
Additionally, Dave had heard through
the grapevine that the Inspector had even begun to drop into the little office where his unit hung out during the day, occasionally sometimes spending up to a half hour chewing the fat with Dave’s minions.
Recently Dave had been both surprised and a little unnerved when he’d arrived for work one night to find a note on his desk asking him to stick around after his shift ended the next morning and drop into the Inspector’s office before he went home.
Dave had found it difficult to concentrate on his work that evening. He kept drifting off, trying to figure out what he was in shit for. Henderson was not the type who delivered much positive news.
At the end of his shift he tided himself up a bit and downed a coffee, then he left his office and went down the hall to the Inspector’s corner office.
Several unpleasant thoughts were raging a in his mind as he knocked at the door and a bellowed ‘It’s open’ sounded on the other side.
Dave had no more than got it open when that was followed by ‘shut it behind you and grab a chair’.
Henderson was hunched over reading. He didn’t look up, but waved to the chairs on the far side of his desk.
Dave eased into one and sat quietly for a few moments, until the Inspector let out a sigh and leaned back as he deftly plucked the reading glasses off the tip of his nose and set them down on top of the pile of reports in front of him.
He looked at Dave briefly as if he was mentally shifting gears, and then he frowned.
“Where do you see yourself going in the department?”
Dave thought about that for a second, trying his best to figure out exactly where that remark might be heading. Before he could answer, Henderson frowned, waved his hand and shrugged.
“Loaded question I suppose. Don’t answer it.
“I’ve been watching you lately and a thought occurred to me. You’re doing a pretty good job with that new-fangled profiling thing.”
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