Killer Curriculum

by Douglas Alexander

  Before Salazar could retreat to his car, Booker stopped him. “Actually, Detective Salazar, there is something we could use your help on with this case. We are going to go pick up our murderer. But we could really use a veteran cop like yourself to help us wrap this up. We’d like to have you along… if you are interested.”

  Salazar bounced back, rejuvenated. “What’s the plan?”

  Chapter 20- Springing the Trap

  The O’Connell brothers were surprised by their visitors. Four unexpected guests stood in the center of the lavish office that overlooked the gaming floor. Sarah posed directly in between the two facing desks.

  “Gentleman, I appreciate you seeing us so unexpectedly.” She motioned to her group. “You both know Professor Booker.”

  “Yeah, the professor is becoming a real fixture here lately,” Shamus murmured in his deep voice.

  Sarah, ignoring the comment continued. “This is Benjamin Tronski and Max Diaz. They are Mr. Booker’s students.”

  “Oh, and don’t forget Kara,” Max chimed in, holding his phone screen out to reveal the young girl. Seeing the confusion on both casino owners’ faces, he explained, “She’s grounded. An unfortunate event earlier today.”

  Booker stepped next to Sarah. “Her mother was willing to allow her to screen-time with us since this is a school project.”

  “I’m sorry,” Daniel O’Connell said, tapping his fingers on his desk. “Did we miss the memo about hosting a fieldtrip?”

  Sarah wasn’t sure, but she thought she could see the professor trying to conceal a grin. He quickly returned to his normal serious demeanor and motioned for her to proceed.

  “They are here for educational reasons,” Sarah said. “In contrast, I am here on police business. We have solved the murders of Henry and Aimee Glazer.” Sarah put her hands on her hips, pushing back the jacket to expose her badge.

  Daniel squinted slightly. “What the hell does it have to do with us?” He sent his brother a puzzled look on the other side of the room. Shamus shrugged and puffed on his cigar. Before either could ask another question, the door swung open. Timmy O’Connell marched in.

  “We have guests, and no one thought to tell me?” The youngest brother probed. Looking back and forth to each of his older siblings.

  “We only needed essential personnel,” Booker stated without even looking in Timmy’s direction. He tapped his cane impatiently.

  Sarah continued, “As I was saying, the investigation led us right here to your shiny, pulsating, ringing door.” She gave a wide gesture down at the gaming floor.

  “You have to be out of your god-damned mind!” Shamus jumped up behind the desk. His menacing form caused Max to step back toward the door.

  Ski just stood still and took a sip of the coffee he had somehow picked up between the front door of the building and the office. He looked up at the eldest O’Connell brother who stood two full heads taller than the old man. “If you’re going somewhere, could you bring me back a better cup of joe?” Ski was unimpressed, both with the coffee and the big man.

  “Let’s take it easy,” Timmy interjected. He moved over to Shamus to ease his brother.

  Booker turned his back to face Daniel at the other side of the office. Sarah followed suit and continued. “I think the two of you figured out that Henry was working with the Chrome Horsemen to rob you blind. That’s a tough pill to swallow. Two successful, self-made businessmen losing money right out from under their noses?” Sarah shook her head slowly.

  “There are three O’Connell’s,” Timmy declared, pacing over to where they were directing their attention at Daniel.

  “Shhhh.” Booker directed him. “The adults are talking right now.” And the professor looked away again.

  The youngest brother’s eyes sharpened. His fists began to clench. A slight vein began trying to emancipate itself from his forehead. “I will not be ignored by someone who has to teach because they couldn’t cut it in the FBI,” Timmy snarled.

  Ski, Max, and Sarah all watched Booker. If he had been offended, it didn’t show. Ice cold as always he said, “Listen, Timmy, just calm yourself. Why don’t you sit at your desk?”

  Then August made an exaggerated turn around the room as if he had lost something. “Oh, that’s right you don’t have a desk in the big office. All you have is a three-ring binder that you have to carry wherever you go. Where is your desk? Downstairs? Is it a kid’s desk? Perhaps with a box of crayons?”

  Before Timmy could respond, Daniel, the voice of reason among the Irish clan, interrupted. “Detective, why would you possibly think that we would be involved in such heinous behavior?” He glared at Timmy, who settled back on his heels.

  “We have a list,” Sarah answered. “First, Henry was stealing from you, and he turned up dead. Then, his wife makes a drunken scene at your casino, and she turns up dead. That pointed us in this direction. And then of course while we were looking at the murder weapon, you happen to own one of six locations where that particular tool was being used. Seems really suspicious, if you ask me.”

  Shamus huffed. Daniel grimaced. “Conjecture, detective. This is all unsubstantiated conjecture.” He brushed his hand over his head and straightened the red ponytail.

  “True,” Booker stepped in. “Then, we add the curious fact that I asked you about last time I visited.”

  “The invitation?” Daniel was confused.

  “Yes, the invitation.” Booker leaned on his cane. “I knew I had seen it at the Glazer home, on the bookcase. It didn’t look like she had received it that morning. So, I checked with Stanley, your gatekeeper of information, before I left you yesterday afternoon. Seems that the invitation in question was sent out ‘VIP’ two weeks before the murder.” He looked between Shamus and Daniel.

  “I answered that yesterday.” Timmy pointed out, looking for any reason to take part.

  “Ah yes,” Booker said. “The employee incentive. Except Stanley also confirmed that no other floor employees received ‘special invitations’ as you claimed. In fact, the invite was addressed to Aimee Glazer, not her husband.”

  Booker tapped the cane. “So, which of you were screwing Mrs. Glazer?”

  “That’s enough!” Timmy was now red-faced and starring the professor down.

  “You’re right, Timmy. I’ve grown tired of this game too. Which of your brothers are you covering for?” Booker matched his aggressive tone and turned to look at the two oldest.

  Shamus slammed his baseball mitt hands down on the desk. “Stick it in your ass you piece of—”

  “Come on you two. The jig is up. One of you persuaded Tiny Tim here to send the invite and then make up that lame story to cover for you.”

  “We have had about enough of your accusations.” Daniel faced Sarah. “Detective if you would—”

  “I’m not done yet,” Booker shouted, losing his cool for the first time. “Someone at the highest levels here in the casino murdered Henry Glazer and then Aimee Glazer just days later. That takes highly-organized thinking. In addition, they then tried to cover it by masking the killings to look like a previous serial killer. I have to say, it is impressive. It must have been one of you two.”

  August hitched his thumb at the youngest brother behind him. “You don’t expect me to believe Timmy here got both of his lonely brain cells together to come up with this? I think we all know where the brains in the family lie.”

  Then, Booker whispered loud enough for all to hear, “It’s not in the downstairs office.”

  He then looked directly at Timmy O’Connell. “Your brothers have all the balls. Just like the old man.” He pointed to the portrait of their father. “You were just the spare parts.”

  Timmy erupted. “I’m no one’s spare parts! I’m the brains behind this empire! My brothers couldn’t run shit without me.”

  “Shut your hole, Timmy,” Shamus ordered.

  For once, Timmy was not going to be silenced. He had taken years of abuse, insults, and orders. Booker had finally pushed
him over the edge. “No, you shut up!” he shouted. “Our father was a great man. Not like the two of you lazy pieces of shit! Sitting here in your office counting the money that rolls in.”

  Timmy glared at his two brothers, hate filling his eyes. “Dad dealt out justice through the entire neighborhood. He was admired and feared, just like me.”

  He looked back at Booker and Sarah. “I am the one who found out Henry was stealing from our family. These two had no idea. Dad wouldn’t have stood for a thief and a wife beater. Henry was a scumbag. So, I dealt with him. Just like dad would have.”

  An eerie smile crept across Timmy’s face. “Just like he taught me. We used to hunt together, you know? And then, we’d practice. On rabbits, then on deer, then on stray dogs. I’ve been waiting for the right opportunity. Just like he told me.”

  The anger and contempt that occupied Booker’s face peeled away like the mask it had been. The serene, neutral expression that normally presided took its place.

  “Oh, my God,” Shamus whispered. He sat back down in his chair, looking sick.

  Daniel shook his head, covering his mouth with his hand. “Practiced?”

  I have to hand it to you. I had my doubts.” Sarah shook her head with a grin.

  “Seargent,” Booker called loudly.

  The door to the office opened and Sergeant Blue entered, trailed by two other uniformed officers. As they handcuffed a resisting Timmy, Booker turned back to the other O’Connell brothers. “Sorry, the group had a little wager going on how long it would take for me to edge a confession out of your brother. I apologize for the deceit. Neither of you were ever truly under suspicion.” Pointing his cane at Timmy, who was book-ended by policemen. “Mr. O’Connell here,” He addressed Timmy with much more respect than he had earlier, “had more than just Righteous Justice as his motive.” Booker was now pacing around the office, the click of the cane setting a cadence for his explanation. “It seems your younger brother had quite the infatuation with Aimee Glazer back in high school. We found some very damning pictures of him leering over her in the yearbook.”

  “Borderline stalker,” Sarah added with a disapproving look at the murderer.

  Booker continued. “My student Max,” he nodded at the young man leaning against the wall, “is a whiz with computers. You would not believe what he can find. The first discovery he made was that Aimee Glazer had been experimenting with online dating behind her husband’s back. Specifically with a man that went by the user name Triskele76. That struck a chord with me. I seem to remember that the triskele is an ancient Celtic symbol, but I’m sure three Irish lads like yourselves know that. Max did a little creative computer work and found that Timothy O’Connell is linked to that avatar.”

  Max just nodded in confirmation.

  The Professor added, “Not only that, but with the internet, it seems you can you find who owns a parcel of property, like say 236 River Street, and also with the permission of the police department you can access traffic cameras in the area.” At the mention of the address, Timmy went silent.

  “You own that location by the way,” Booker informed Daniel, who looked at Shamus.

  “Yeah, we used it for excess storage and malfunctioned slot machines,” Shamus added. “But it has been under renovation for the last six weeks. Roof leak.”

  “You are partially correct. It was under renovation until two weeks ago.” The professor motioned to Ski, who set down his coffee and removed a folded piece of paper from his flannel shirt pocket. He set it on Shamus’ desk, unfolding it.

  “Seems your little brother here placed a stop order and relocated that crew back to the casino. He was in such a hurry he wrote on the order for them to leave all the equipment right there on site.” The old man pointed to the bottom of the form. “I’m told that is Timmy’s signature right there.” Shamus leaned over and inspected the form. He looked up with a harsh stare at the cuffed Timmy. Ski added, “The union guys were super helpful. They really don’t care for you, Tim. Future tip: you should treat the help better.”

  “Detective Salazar is at the warehouse on River Street as we speak. My guess is that’s where you killed the Glazer’s.” Sarah pointed out, “And I’m sure he will find evidence there to link you as well.”

  Booker continued. “Stanley is another member of the ‘help’ that you should have been nicer to. He gave us full access to your video cameras here at the casino. When I stopped by yesterday to see him right after our little meeting, I was able to see video from a few weeks back.” Booker pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and a video popped up of Timmy and Aimee Glazer. “It seems you bumped into your high school crush as she dropped her husband off for his shift. You too had a fairly long conversation, including her sending you some signals. Look right here: she laughs, touches your arm a few times, all the classic flirt signs were there." He looked at Sarah for confirmation.

  “Don’t look at me. I don’t ‘flirt’.” She crossed her arms.

  “And then a few days later, when she was late picking him up, he grabbed her by the arm and threw her against the car, before making her run alongside it for a good four hundred yards. You saw that too. The camera caught you looking out the lobby doors. I do think you thought you were dealing out justice.”

  “I was damn it! I’m just like dad!”

  “But I think part of that was due to the abuse Henry was dealing out to his wife. The girl you had been in love with since high school.” The professor almost sounded empathetic.

  “She was beautiful,” Timmy said solemnly. “I would have had a shot even back then, but he was always in the way. When I saw her a few weeks ago, she realized she made the wrong choice. I run one of the biggest businesses in Berksville. He turned out to be nothing but a loser.” He straightened, proud of himself. “I knew what dad would have done. So I took matters into my own hands, and dealt with the wife-beating, thief.”

  Shamus could barely look at his brother. “You’re pathetic. You are nothing like dad. You’re pitiful and pathetic.” He spit at Timmy’s feet.

  “I don’t believe that he taught you anything! Dad never killed anyone. Maybe he roughed some people up once in a while, trying to correct their behavior, but he didn’t cross the line,” Daniel defended their father.

  “I have to admit, you had me confused at first. The first killing was so organized and planned, but the second one was so unplanned.” Booker leaned against Daniel’s desk. “It was that second one that connected everything for me. I asked myself: ‘How can an organized killer suddenly act unorganized?’ You see methods of operation don’t usually change. You degraded so quickly.” He pointed toward Timmy again with the end of the cane. “Anger. Anger can make an organized killer lose control. And I had seen flashes of it when we first came to the Lucky Roll. Every time your older brother belittled you or took you for granted. The night you followed Aimee Glazer out of the book launch, you were angry. I reviewed the footage. You purposely avoided her. Didn’t even say one word to her. Pretty rude since you had invited her. The problem was Henry was dead and she still hadn’t rushed into your arms. Not only that, she was so upset about the death of her husband that she was sloppy drunk at the party.”

  Timmy looked down at the floor. “I followed her out to give her some support. I could be the strength she needed. She told me to back off. Said she wasn’t in the mood to be ogled over by some spineless weasel.” His voice was growing with resentment as he recalled the events. “Then she said I wasn’t half the man Henry was. I told her she was an ungrateful bitch, and that I had killed him for her. So she could be free of him. She started hitting me and screaming that she was going to go to the police. After everything I did! I pushed her against my car. She said I was just like him. ME!? Just like that Neanderthal? I showed her who I really was. I could see it in her eyes. That she finally understood how strong I was, as I cut her piece by piece.” Light actually sparked in his eyes at the thought.

  “Yeah, you’re a sick piece of shit.” Ski i
nformed him.

  Booker was silent for a moment, just looking at the killer. No judgment or anger, he just observed Timmy. “Chief Red Eagle of the Creek Indians once said ‘Angry people want you to see how powerful they are.’ You showed them, didn’t you Timmy? And that’s how I knew you would show me here tonight. All I had to do was ignore, insult, and belittle you. In…” He looked at the phone.

  Max looked down at the screen. “She’s gone. But I think she said ten minutes.”

  “Ten minutes was all it took for you to become overcome with anger and you were driven to show me how powerful you think you are.” He shook his head. “You confessed to the murder because I said you weren’t smart enough. That’s some ego you have Timmy.” The professor nodded to Sergeant Blue, and the officers escorted Timmy O’Connell, the Berksville Killer, from the room.

  “We’re taking him to the station to be processed.” Sarah looked at the brothers. “You can have a lawyer meet him there. He does have that right. Sergeant Blue is reading them to him as they head out of the building. Although we have half a dozen people here who have witnessed his confession. I wouldn’t plan on bringing him home. Plus he shot up a school. He has yet to address that.” She looked at the professor and they headed for the door, Ski and Max were already out in the hall.

  “Professor,” Daniel offered, “he has always been a bad egg. We never knew what to do with him.” His eyes were begging for some type of acquittal, that the family was not to blame.

  Booker paused. “He may have had some darkness and anger in him. But being a second-class citizen in his own family surely didn’t help.” And he closed the door behind him. The two red-haired brothers sat in silence looking at each other and the portrait of their father.

  ***

  While Timmy O’Connell was being escorted out of the Lucky Roll, Kara was shimmying down a drainpipe. She had logged off screen-time as soon as she heard that the crime scene was still open. Detective Salazar would be there, but she could most likely sweet talk her way around him. He had been her D.A.R.E. officer through elementary and middle school.