Every Breath You Take

by Jay Zendrowski

  Chapter 12

  Pepper and Wallace took Wellington Road towards Exeter Road, home of the local detention centre. The heavy, leaden clouds continued to sit like the mother ship in Independence Day over the city, as if deciding whether to dump snow on the inhabitants or not. The temperature hung around freezing, the streets dry and clear of snow, keeping traffic moving at a steady clip. No one lingered outside in case things got worse. The day matched their mood, and Wallace decided he was sick of it.

  "Okay, favourite Ramones song," he said as Pepper ran the yellow light at Commissioners.

  "Blitzkrieg Bop," Pepper replied. "You?"

  "Sheena is a Punk Rocker. I tried to get Michelle to change her name to Sheena, but she put the big nixaroo on that one."

  "All right, here's one for you," Pepper said, "favourite Smiths song."

  "Are we talking The Smiths, or does that include Morrissey after he left and went out on his own?"

  "I knew you were going to say that-I just knew it." Pepper smiled-Wallace was so predictable with his attention to detail. "All right, let's break it down into two-favourite Smiths song, and then favourite Morrissey song."

  "Okay, that's better. As long as I know the rules, I'm good. All right then, favourite Smiths song, I've gotta go with 'This Charming Man'. The first Smiths song I ever heard, and still my favourite. I'd put 'Some Girls are Bigger than Others' a close second though. And for Morrissey, I've gotta go with 'The Last of the Famous International Playboys'. You?"

  "Okay, since you're throwing out two, I'd choose 'There is a Light That Never Goes Out' at number one for The Smiths, and 'Shoplifters of the World Unite' at number two. For Morrissey, I've got 'Suedehead' at number one, but 'Tomorrow' is right up there too."

  "Agreed, good choices." Wallace looked out the window as they passed White Oaks Mall. "What kind of shape do you think Bartolucci's gonna be in?"

  "A kid like that who's never been in trouble before-I'm sure he's gonna be scared shitless after spending a night in jail. He's probably too big for anybody to fuck with him right away, but I'm sure he doesn't like the way the other guys in there are looking at him. Once word gets around about why he's in there-well, you know as well as I do what those other guys think about stuff like that. And he doesn't have his football team buddies to back him up."

  "You're right, and I'm sure we won't see the tough guy he tried to come across as yesterday. He'll try to look the part, but once he realizes what kind of trouble he's in, I think he's gonna cave-and that could be helpful to us, especially if Janssen's able to confirm what we're thinking about that drug he gave Jennie Swindon."

  "All right, here we are," Pepper said as he pulled the car into one of the reserved police department spots outside the Elgin-Middlesex Detention Centre.

  Set well back from the road, the single storey jail was hidden from view by other nondescript government buildings in front of it. The heavy grey clouds and chilled air made the detention centre look even more stark and barren than usual. The building was made of brown brick and precast concrete, with a few small panels of architectural metal making a feeble attempt to make the entrance look more attractive. The panels were an ugly shit brindle colour, totally defeating the purpose they were put there for in the first place. Fifteen foot high chain-link fencing topped by razor wire surrounded the compound. The fencing butted snug to the corners of the entranceway and the black-windowed offices adjacent, sealing the area tight as a drum to the edges of the building. A rat couldn't have gotten in-and no rats were getting out. A single crow flew over the fence, not even thinking about setting down on the cold roof edges to see what was happening. Its wings beat even faster as it soared over the buildings, sensing that this was a place best left alone.

  Pepper and Wallace were walking up to the building when both of their cell phones chirped at the same time. They pulled them out and saw that they'd each been copied on the same text message from Janssen. "Test shows positive match between J. Swindon and Y. Redmond. Identical strain of Rohypnol."

  "Well, I guess that's that," Wallace said, slipping his phone back into his pocket as they headed to the door marked 'Police Entrance'. They identified themselves and were buzzed in, the camera over the front entrance letting them know Big Brother was watching. They checked their guns as they spoke with the corrections officer on duty. They were directed to the east wing, going through a series of doors as buzzers sounded at each one, but not before the door behind them closed. Pepper knew why they brought some young offenders here on 'unofficial tours'. One trip through these relatively harmless containment areas was enough on its own to make some of these kids think twice-let alone showing them the actual detention wards. A little dose of reality had turned more than one young punk into a model citizen.

  The place had a dank, acrid smell, like a combination of bad cafeteria food and sweat. Concrete, steel, and inch-thick bulletproof glass were the materials of choice here. As they passed through another series of doors, Pepper looked at the guard in the control room in front of them. He looked at them as intruders on his own personal stomping ground. Grim face and cold eyes might have been a hiring requirement for the position. From the looks of this guy, he suspected the guard might be more Shawshank than Green Mile-and he bet most of the inmates felt the same. That question of this being the guard's personal stomping ground may have literally been the case.

  Pepper and Wallace entered one of the interrogation rooms, waiting as the guards fetched Bartolucci from his cell. A one-way mirror adorned one wall, fooling no one. The only other fixtures in the room were a plain metal table bolted to the floor, three plastic chairs, and a digital wall clock, covered by a metal cage. Anything not nailed down or protected would be broken in no time. The walls were concrete block, painted an institutional grey, dull and lifeless, like the hopes of many of the men brought into this room. A mottled terrazzo floor was shined to a surprisingly gleaming finish, the pulsing fluorescent lights from above making the floor seem to glow like a hall corridor on the first day of school.

  Pepper wondered what an interior decorator would have done with the room. Some nice pastel-coloured walls, a Navajo area rug placed beneath the table to give it that southwestern feel, a few throw blankets to make the plastic chairs look warm and cozy, maybe some sheers pulled back to each side of the big mirror, and some art deco wall sconces to soften the lighting-even with all that, the room would have still looked like shit. There was no way to hide what this room was for-a place where bad men came to rid themselves of their sins, or keep clammed up and wait to face the piper.

  Two guards led Rico Bartolucci into the room, each of them with their hands on the heels of their nightsticks attached to their belts. Although both men were of average height and build, Bartolucci's six-eight frame dwarfed both of them. They had to go through the door one at a time, each holding an arm as the young man ducked to get through the door. His hands were cuffed together, and he had to tilt his head over to one side to clear the top of the door frame.

  Pepper was surprised by the changes in the kid in the mere twenty-four hours since he'd been arrested. His eyes were red and watery, his jowls puffy, his lips split at one corner, his bottom lip swollen. His hair looked like it hadn't seen a comb or brush in a week. Dressed in his one-piece prison coveralls, he looked like a garage mechanic who'd taken a wrong turn on his way to work this morning. He shuffled forwards as the guards led him across the room, favouring the knee where Pepper had taken him down the day before. His steps were tentative and slow. Pepper thought he looked like an old man at a nursing home, wondering if he had the strength to make it to the banquet room on bingo night. His shoulders were slumped and his head hung down, as if his team had made it to the big game and then lost in overtime-because he'd fumbled the ball.

  The guards clipped his handcuffs through a ring in the middle of the metal table and slipped one of the plastic chairs beneath him. Bartolucci sat down, one of the spindly metal legs of the cheap chair bending under the strain.
<
br />   "Can we get him a better chair?" Wallace asked as Bartolucci stood back up before the chair completely collapsed. "Are you thirsty, Rico? And a bottle of water too."

  "Yes sir," one of the young guards said, stepping out of the room and coming back a few moments later with a hard-backed wooden chair and a bottle of water. He pulled the broken chair away and shoved the wooden one into place. Bartolucci carefully sat down, shifting his weight sideways to test the chair.

  "Is that better?" Wallace asked, looking the kid directly in the eye. Bartolucci nodded. Wallace turned back to one of the guards. "And how about undoing the cuffs from that ring? There's no way he can even drink his water like that."

  Wallace was a very likable guy, and often in situations like this, where it sometimes became necessary to play the 'good cop/bad cop' roles, he'd take on the role of the good cop, leaving Pepper to be the heavy-handed one. In dealing with some extreme cases, like some of the druggies, Wallace excelled at being the bad cop, his craziness putting him right on the edge. Pepper then became the calmer voice of reason, holding Wallace back from going completely nuts on their suspect. By getting Bartolucci a better chair and a bottle of water right from the get go, Wallace had already started to build that little bit of trust that might make the difference in their interrogation.

  As soon as the two guards left the room and closed the door behind them, Wallace pulled up one of the plastic chairs and sat at the table opposite Bartolucci. Pepper stood off to one side, leaning back against the concrete block wall, folder in hand.

  "Rico, do you remember who we are?" Wallace began. He reached across and undid the top of Bartolucci's water bottle for him, unsure if his cuffed hands would allow him to do that.

  Bartolucci lifted his gaze and looked at Wallace, and then over to the side, a spark or recognition coming into his eyes as they alighted on Pepper. He turned back to Wallace. "Yeah, I remember you guys." He nodded towards Pepper. "He's the guy that fucked up my knee." His voice sound raspy and muffled, his swollen bottom lip flapped at the words as they came out of his mouth.

  Wallace nodded as he turned his chair slightly sideways and leaned one arm on the table, a grimace on his face. "Yes, that's too bad. In case you've forgotten, I'm Detective Wallace and that's Detective Pepper. Did they bandage that knee up for you?"

  "Yeah. But the doc said it looks like my ACL is torn."

  Again, Wallace nodded. "That's a shame." He pointed to his own mouth. "What happened here?"

  "Some guy in the cafeteria line didn't seem to like the look of me."

  "Did any of the guards see what happened?"

  Bartolucci paused. "That's all I'm gonna say about that."

  Pepper realized his suspicions were right- some of these guards were definitely more Shawshank than The Green Mile.

  "Listen, Rico," Wallace continued. "We know you shouldn't be in a place like this. We're here to listen to what you have to say, and do what we can to help you. We've talked with Jennie Swindon about what happened between the two of you, and now we're here to get your side of the story. We're a little unsure about a few things she said. You know, some of the things just don't add up."

  Bartolucci sat up straighter. "What things don't add up?"

  "Why don't you just tell us what happened? Did you know her before you met her at that party on Broughdale?"

  Bartolucci shook his head. "No, that was the first time I ever saw her. She actually came up and started talking to me, and she was really nice. We kind of hit it off. We talked quite a bit, and then at one point, she kissed me. We fooled around a little bit, and then I asked her if she wanted to come back to my place, since I just lived a couple of blocks away up Richmond Street. She said yes."

  "What happened after that?"

  "When we got to my place, we started making out on the couch, and then she wanted to go into the bedroom. I thought this was pretty nice, and then she told me she wanted me to tie her up. I'd never done anything like that, and at first I didn't want to, but she said she really liked it that way. And she said she liked to have rough sex too. So we did it like that, and then she wanted to do it again, and told me she wanted me to keep her tied up. She said she liked to pretend she was somebody's hostage. I thought it was a little weird, but that's what she wanted, so I agreed to go along."

  "And she didn't go home the next day?"

  "No, that's what kind of surprised me. She said we should skip school and she could be my prisoner all day. I untied her so she could use the bathroom and we could eat, but as soon as we were done, she wanted me to tie her back up again."

  "And so she stayed for the second night that way too?"

  "Yes."

  "That seems like quite a long time to be tied up most of the time. But I guess if that's what she was into," Wallace said, raising his eyebrows and opening his hand questioningly. "Everybody's different I guess. So you guys go back to your place, she wants to be tied up, you agree to go along with that, you have some rough sex-okay, I get it. During all that time, did she ever ask you when you were going to let her go?"

  "Uh, I wasn't really holding her against her will-so she could have gone anytime. She just had to ask and I would have untied her." Pepper was impressed that Bartolucci hadn't been tripped up by Wallace's question.

  Wallace nodded. "Right, right. So when she asked to be tied up-one thing I don't get-where did you get the rope that you tied her up with?"

  "Uh, I?I use it for rock climbing."

  "Rock climbing. Sure, I get that." Wallace nodded again, and then looked up at Bartolucci, eyebrows arched. "Where do you go rock climbing?"

  "Um, wherever's there's big rocks."

  "Right, right, big rocks." As Wallace paused, Bartollucci took a drink, his hand trembling as he raised the bottle to his lips.

  "And what about the gag she had on? How do you explain that?"

  "Uh, she said it would make her feel more like a prisoner if I gagged her with something. I took it off her every time we finished having sex though."

  "Sure, of course. Umm, one thing I don't understand, if things were all so consensual between the two of you as you say, why did you freak out when she called for help?"

  "I uh, I just panicked. It was so unexpected. I knew it would look bad for me, so I just lashed out at you guys. I don't know what I was thinking. I realize now I should have just explained everything right there on the spot and gotten this whole misunderstanding cleared up."

  "Yes, that probably would have helped a lot." Wallace scratched at his cheek, a grimace on his face. "Another thing I'm a bit confused about, if you guys were enjoying this little role-playing game you had going, why would she call out for help like that in the first place?"

  Pepper looked over at Bartolucci, watching the gears going around in his head. "I think that bitch was trying to screw me over. I'm sure she didn't want to be seen in that position, especially by the police. I know even with the door closed in that bedroom, you can still hear voices from the living room pretty clearly. She probably thought you were gonna search the place and you'd see her. The bitch decided to pin it on me so she wouldn't look bad."

  Pepper had to give the kid an eight out of ten for that one.

  "Bitch?" Wallace said.

  "That girl, I mean. Jennie."

  "Okay, Rico," Wallace continued, "let's take a step back for a second. You and Jennie go back to your place, she comes in, you start making out on the couch. Did you have a drink first, maybe talk a little bit?"

  "Uh, yeah. We had a drink first."

  "A couple of beers? A couple of glasses of wine?"

  "I had a beer, but she said she didn't like beer. I had a couple of those fruit cooler things in the fridge, and she said she liked those."

  "Okay, so you guys sat together on the couch, had your drinks, made out a bit. Jennie said it was after you finished your drinks that you guys ended up going to the bedroom, is that right?"

  "Yes, that's right. She pulled me up from the couch and wanted to go into the bedr
oom."

  "So you finished your beer, she finished her cooler, and then off the two of you went, right?"

  "That's right." Bartolucci nodded in agreement.

  "Interesting," Wallace said, pausing to pull at his goatee. "That drink Jennie had, was it in a bottle, or did you put it in a glass for her?"

  Beneath the table, Pepper noticed Bartolucci's knee start to jiggle up and down. "I put it in a glass for her."

  "So you just gave her the drink, nothing else? No ice, nothing else?"

  "Uh yeah, I think I did put some ice in it for her."

  "Ice, right." Wallace scratched at his ear. "Rico, do you know what roofies are?"

  That leg beneath the table really started going now. "Um, no, I don't."

  "Some people call them the date-rape drug? They can be crumbled up and put into someone's drink. It kind of makes them pass out, so you can do whatever you want to them. You've never heard of anything like that?"

  "Uh yeah. I've heard about that, but I've never seen any. I get a lot of dates-I wouldn't have to do anything like that. And besides, I'd never do anything like that anyways. That's horrible."

  "Of course you wouldn't. I understand. That wouldn't be good." Wallace pulled at his lip. "Okay, I just want to make sure I don't forget anything. So you're sure you never put anything like that in that girl's drink? We want to make sure of all the facts so we get the complete story."

  "No sir. I never did."

  Wallace nodded again, running his hand over his thinning hair before sitting back in his chair, tapping his index finger against his lips. "You know, Rico, I just don't get it. Jennie asks to be tied up, she wants to role play, to be your prisoner-so to speak-but she wants it to keep going for more than two nights. That seems a little excessive to me. The ropes, the gag, the call for help?" Wallace paused and sat forward, elbows on the table. "You know, Rico, we came here to listen to what you have to say so we could do what we could for you. We know a young guy like you doesn't belong in a place like this. These guys that are in here, they don't really care for rapists all that much. So we've got a bit of a problem. I have to tell you, there's too many parts of your story that just don't seem to work. I believe your story about as much as I believe that Santa Claus comes down the chimney and brings me my Sports Illustrated Swimsuit calendar every year." Wallace sat back in his chair. "Now, I'm going to ask you one more time, and I want you to think long and hard before you answer-did you put anything in Jennie Swindon's drink?"

  That leg of Bartolucci's was bouncing in hyper-drive now, the vibrations pulsing up right through the floor. "No, I swear I didn't." Bartolucci shook his head vigorously.

  "Then how do you explain that there were traces of that date rape drug in Jennie Swindon's system?" Wallace said.

  "I uh?I don't know, maybe that punch at the party was laced with the stuff. I have no idea. Trust me guys, I wouldn't lie to you."

  Wallace and Pepper just looked at him, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them. He reached forward for the bottle in front of him, water sloshing out as he brought it to his mouth with shaking hands. He almost dropped it as he set it back on the table, his leg pistoning up and down.

  "Then why DID you lie to us?" Pepper spoke for the first time.

  "I?I didn't, I swear I never put anything in her drink," Bartolucci replied as he looked over at Pepper, his eyes begging.

  "That's not what I'm talking about right now," Pepper said, striding over to the table. He opened the folder he had in his hand and put the picture of Yvonne Redmond down in front of Bartolucci. The kid looked down at the picture, and this time there was no denying the look of recognition on his face-a night in prison has a way of knocking some people's acting skills back a notch or two.

  "You told us yesterday you'd never seen this girl before." Bartolucci just stared at Pepper, his face flushing. "And yet, we have a number of people who say they saw you talking with this girl at that party."

  "Uh, it was kind of dark in my apartment, and I was a little hung over yesterday. Now that I see this picture in the light, I do remember seeing this girl at the party."

  "Apparently you spent some time talking with her, people say they even saw you get her a drink."

  "Uh yeah, that's right, now that you mention it. I was going to the kitchen to get another beer, and she asked me if I could get her some orange juice with vodka."

  "So you got her a drink, right?" As Pepper continued with the questioning, Wallace sat and observed Bartolucci closely.

  "Yes."

  "And did you keep talking to her after that?"

  "Uh, no. I kind of ran into that Jennie girl around that time, and like I said, we kind of hit it off. I never really noticed this other girl after that," Bartolucci replied, pointing down to Yvonne Redmond's picture. "I can't even remember if she told me her name."

  "Her name's Yvonne Redmond. Does that name mean anything to you?" Bartolucci just shook his head. "So, I'm going to ask you a question similar to what Detective Wallace just asked you-did you put anything in that girl's drink you got her at the party?"

  "No, I swear, I didn't. Did she say I did? Because if she did, she's lying."

  "She didn't say anything." Pepper paused, taking a step back and leaning against the wall. "She couldn't-she's dead."

  The jiggling leg stopped, and Bartolucci's face went white as a sheet. He looked down at the picture of the girl, and Pepper watched as his eyes welled up with tears. A single tear rolled down his cheek and dropped off, glistening in the harsh fluorescent light before landing on the leg of her coveralls. A second teardrop fell, and then a third, the wet stain on his leg blossoming. The detectives remained silent, watching him.

  "It?it wasn't supposed to be like that," Bartolucci gasped out.

  "What wasn't supposed to be like that, Rico?" Wallace picked up the questioning, his voice warm as mother's milk.

  "Nobody was supposed to die," Bartolucci blubbered, lifting his cuffed hands to his face and wiping his dripping nose on his sleeve.

  "What do you mean, Rico? What was supposed to happen?"

  "It was just going to be for some fun, nothing more than that."

  "Fun?"

  Bartolucci shook his head from side to side as he looked at the girl's picture. "I thought it was just going to be for a little while, and then he'd let her go. He didn't say anything about anybody dying."

  Wallace flicked his eyes over to Pepper, who now stood up straight, his heart pounding in his chest. Pepper nodded back to Wallace.

  "Who, Rico? Who are you talking about?" Wallace asked, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

  "The guy, the guy that gave me the roofies."

  Wallace and Pepper exchanged a glance, before Wallace turned back to Bartolucci. "Rico, it's all right. Take a drink. Go ahead."

  Bartolucci raised the bottle to his lips, his hands still shaking. He sat the bottle down again, wiping his sleeve across his mouth.

  "So Rico," Wallace continued, "who's this guy that gave you the roofies?"

  Bartolucci shook his head. "I don't know. I never met him. I never saw him."

  "Then how did you get them?"

  "He left them for me somewhere. He said he'd be able to get me more."

  Pepper and Wallace exchanged another look, before Wallace sat back and nodded knowingly across the table to Bartolucci. "Rico, I want you to just take a few deep breaths and calm down now." Pepper watched as the young man did just what Wallace had suggested. "That's good, that's better. Now, I think you've gotten yourself in a little over your head here, so I want you to take your time, and tell us all about it. You're going to have to tell us the truth if you want us to try and help you." Wallace paused. "Do you understand, Rico?"

  "Yes sir." For nearly the first time since they'd been talking, the kid's head nodded in agreement.

  "Okay, good. Why don't you tell us what you know about this guy who gave you the roofies?"

  Seeing that Bartolucci had composed himself enough t
o talk, Pepper pulled the other chair up and sat next to Wallace at the table.

  "I guess I first met him way back in the fall, just after school started this year. But when I say met him, I mean not really met him-like in face to face-but over the internet."

  Bartolucci had paused, and Wallace knew the young man needed some form of validation in order to keep talking. He figured he'd have to coach the kid the rest of the way. "Over the internet?"

  "Yeah. I had started looking around at some different websites, some that were a little more extreme than others. I found one that I joined and started going back to a lot. It had a forum section, where members could post things for other members to read, or you could send personal messages back and forth."

  "What kind of website are we talking about here?"

  Bartolucci hesitated. Wallace was all over that, keeping his voice calm but firm. "Rico, you need to tell us everything at this point if you want us to try and help you."

  Again, the young man nodded. "It was a site that dealt with extreme sex-S and M, bondage, even rape."

  "What's the name of this site?"

  "It's called 'Don'tfearthereaper.com'."

  "Don't Fear the Reaper? You mean like the song by Blue Oyster Cult?"

  "Who?"

  "Never mind. So you connected with this person on that site?"

  "Yes. I responded to a posting he'd put in the forum section that talked about favourite rape fantasies."

  "Do you remember what the first posting of his talked about?"

  "He said his favourite fantasy was that they were totally out of it, yet still awake so they could watch as you raped them."

  "And you responded to this posting?"

  Bartolucci nodded his head, his face flushing red once more. "Yeah. I told him that sounded pretty cool and to tell me more. He started by sending me a personal message, and we started corresponding almost daily after that."

  "But being on the internet, this site must have people on it from all over the world. How did you end up connecting with him so that he was able to give you those roofies?"

  "In our messages, it got so that we didn't just talk about the sex stuff-we'd talk about other stuff a bit too, like the weather, or whatever. I once mentioned how the weather was turning cold and he said the same had happened where he lived. One time shortly after that, when we were talking about girls, I told him I went to school at a university that was voted the number three party school in the country. He said he lived in a city with a school with a reputation as a party school too, and he actually asked me if the school I was talking about was Western. I said it was."

  Wallace glanced over to Pepper for a second. "And at that point, did he say where he lived?"

  "He said he lived in London, too. But he never did say anything more than that about where he lived in the city, or what he did. You don't really ask those kinds of things on sites like that."

  "Sure, sure. Did he say anything in these messages that would give you any idea of how old he might be? Or whether he was a student at Western himself?"

  "He never really did say, of course. But I could tell he wasn't my age. He just seemed more experienced and knowledgeable about all the sex stuff, so I don't know-I picture him as someone a fair bit older than me."

  "Okay. So how did it get to the point where you got the roofies from this guy?"

  "He started talking to me a short time ago about these roofies he'd gotten in Toronto, and how good they were supposed to be. I told him I'd love to get my hands on something like that too. He ended up making a suggestion that we swing a deal-if I helped provide him with a girl, he'd give me some of those roofies." Bartolucci paused and looked up at them, his eyes red and watery. "But he never said anything about anybody dying. You've got to believe me about that."

  "It's all right, Rico," Wallace responded, palming his hand up and down, like a teacher quieting down a class. "Just tell us what happened."

  "I told him I was going to a big party and there was bound to be tons of girls there. He said that he wanted me to slip one of these roofies into a girl's drink, and then when it started to take effect, to bring the girl out of the party."

  "Out of the party? Where out of the party?"

  "He said he'd have a car waiting outside and I was to text him once I put the stuff in the girl's drink."

  "Is that what happened?"

  "Yeah. I could see that the drug was taking effect pretty quickly." He nodded down towards Yvonne Redmond's picture. "She was getting pretty dizzy, so I offered to take her outside to get some fresh air. I took her out the side door so people wouldn't notice as much. He'd texted me that his car was in front of the house right next door. When I got to the sidewalk, I saw the car sitting against the curb running, with someone in the driver's seat."

  "Were you in front of the car, or behind?"

  "I came up to it from behind, so I only saw the outline of a person really, and I'm pretty sure he had a hoodie on."

  Shit, thought Pepper.

  "So what happened then?" Wallace asked.

  "She was almost totally out of it at that point, so I was pretty much carrying her. He'd told me in the text to just put her in the back seat, so I opened the door and just laid her down on the seat. I closed the door and he pulled away before I even stepped back from the curb."

  "Did he say anything, or even turn around?"

  "No, nothing."

  "Do you know what kind of car it was?"

  Bartolucci shook his head. "I?I'm not much of a car guy. I never really notice things like that."

  "You said you put her in the back seat, so it was a four-door, right?"

  "Yes."

  "Did it have a hatch, or windows at the back, like an SUV of some kind?"

  "No, I don't think so. I'm sorry, but look, I was pretty drunk at the time too."

  "What about the colour? Light, dark-any idea?"

  "Light. Definitely light in colour. Maybe white, maybe silver, or a really light grey."

  "Okay, let's leave that for now. Let's take a step back to talk about the roofies. How did he get them to you? And how many?"

  "He gave me two. He said one was for me to use on the girl at the party, and one was for me to use however I wanted. He said if things worked out with the plan, he'd give me more."

  "Okay, so how did you actually get them?"

  "The day before the party, he sent me a message saying he'd left them in the stacks section of the university library. He told me exactly where to find them. I went after I got the message and found the two pills in a ziplock bag just where he'd said."

  "And you used one of these pills on Yvonne Redmond, and the other one on Jennie Swindon?"

  Bartolucci paused, his eyes looking into his future, knowing he'd be sealing his fate with his answer. "Yes sir."

  "But you did give a second pill to Jennie Swindon the next day, didn't you, Rico?"

  "Yes. He sent me a message the next morning, telling me that for completing my part of the deal, there was another pill waiting in the same place at the library."

  Wallace looked over at Pepper, both of them remembering that Jennie said Bartolucci had gone out for a while around noon the day after he'd first taken her.

  "And there was just one pill this time?" Wallace continued.

  "Yeah. I was hoping for more, but that's all there was."

  "Okay, Rico, that's very helpful. When he was messaging you about getting a girl for him at this party, did he ask for anyone in particular?"

  "Not any specific person, but he did ask that she match a certain description."

  "And what was that description?"

  "He said he wanted a blonde, blue eyes, five-five to five-seven, medium build. Oh yeah, he specifically said she shouldn't have any visible tattoos or piercings-he was adamant about that."

  Pepper knew he'd just described a huge percentage of the female student body at Western. Bartolucci was definitely not going to have any problem finding somebody to meet that description at a big
student party-unfortunately, Yvonne Redmond matched that description.

  "Okay, let's take another step back. So on this website, this 'Don't fear the reaper dot com', when you first contacted him and he responded to you-you didn't use your real names, right? You use a handle of some form?"

  "Yes. On that site my handle is The Hulkster."

  "And the handle for this guy you're talking about?"

  "The Sandman."

  Pepper looked over at Wallace. Their killer now had a name.

  PART THREE

  HUNTING HIGH AND LOW

  a-ha