by Owen Parr
Dom broke the silence, “What’s on your scheduled today?”
“I’m going to spend some time at the precinct and bring everyone up to speed on what we have uncovered. Why don’t you join me?”
“I’ll do that, yes, let’s go,” Dom replied, and then asked me, “So, I take it you’re feeling good about the future?”
“Yes, and no. I can’t shake this feeling inside that something bad is about to happen.”
“That’s just anxiety, Joey. Your feeling anxious about the case, and about Marcy’s test. That’s all.”
“I hope you’re right, brother. I hope you’re right.”
20
Yesterday was a nothing day. Dom enjoyed being in the precinct and spending time in the squad room. Both profiles were discussed, and all the clues we had uncovered were looked at and added to the ones the detectives had developed on their own.
Officer Sanchez was now a possible suspect and under surveillance 24/7.
We were back at the pub this morning, and we were in a wait-and-see mode. Hoping for no more murders, and at the same time trying to make more sense of what we had.
Dom prepared some espressos, while we waited for the rest of the team to arrive. “Should we add more profiles to the social media pages?” asked Dom.
My cell phone rang. The ID caller read; Alberto Rodriguez. “Hold that thought, brother. It’s Marcy’s stepdad,” I said, pushing the green icon on my phone. “Mr. Rodriguez, good morning. How are you?”
Without any pleasantries, Alberto, got to the point, “Joey, do you know where Marcy is?” he asked, agitated.
“No, I thought she was leaving with you guys today. Why do you ask?”
“We haven’t heard from her since the day before yesterday. Her mother called her last night, but, she hasn’t called back.”
“She was practicing at the range yesterday for her firearm’s test. Then, she was driving to you guys, in Jersey this morning. Have you called her cell?”
“Of course, Joey. She was supposed to be here around seven in the morning. We’re all here waiting, but, she doesn’t answer her phone.”
I shook my head, and said, “It’s not like her. I can go to her place right now.”
“No need, her mother, and brother already left to go to her apartment,” Alberto said.
“I’ll call Tony Belford. He was with her at the range yesterday. I’ll call you back, as soon as I speak to him.”
“I don’t like that guy. Okay, call me, or, as soon as I hear something, I’ll call you.”
“I’m sure she’s fine, Alberto. Probably show up at your place any minute,” I said, trying to believe that myself.
“What’s going on?” Dom asked.
I looked at my watch “Marcy was supposed to be at her parent’s two hours ago. She’s not answering her phone since yesterday.” I looked through my contacts quickly for Belford’s number.
“This is Special Agent, Tony Belford, —”
I interrupted, “Tony, this is Joey.”
“I’m not available to answer your call right now…” Belford’s message went on.
“Fuck, he’s not picking up,” I said, staring at the phone. I hung up. Immediately my phone rang. Without looking at the ID caller, I answered.
“Joey, this is Farnsworth.”
“What’s up Detective, I’m in the middle of something,” I replied, impatiently.
“Excuse me, Mr. Consultant. I thought I do you the courtesy of letting you know that our professor, Peter Gruntel, is not our man. We questioned him this morning, and after checking his past locations, he’s never been in any of the cities our unsub may have committed prior murders. Plus, —”
I interrupted, “Farnsworth, sorry man. Just that everyone is looking for Marcy. We haven’t heard from her since yesterday, and she’s two hours late in arriving at her parents in Jersey.”
“You want me to check for any accidents this morning?”
“Yeah, yeah, great idea. But, do it since yesterday, just in case.”
“I’m on it. Call you back,” Farnsworth said. “Wait, Joey, Still there?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Listen, this guy, Gruntel, if you look in the dictionary under nerd, his picture is there. Skinny tall dude, black wide rim glasses, and a black bow tie. Plus, he abhors any social media. He’s pretty much a recluse, and wants the Facebook page down rapido.”
“No can do. We need that page up, or, the unsub will suspect something’s up. Tell him not to worry about it. We need his cooperation for a little longer.”
“I don’t know man. He’s likely to contact Facebook, and have them take it down.”
“Scare him, or something. Don’t let him call Facebook. I gotta go.”
That icy vacuum in my stomach, I felt yesterday, was back. An idea popped into my head, looking through my contacts again, I dialed.
“This is Victoria Stewart; how can I help you?”
Victoria is the Special Agent in Charge, of the New York’s FBI White Collar Crime Division. Marcy’s and Belford’s boss.
“Victoria, this is Joey Mancuso,” I said, and without giving her a chance to ask anything, I went on, “we hadn’t heard from Marcy since yesterday when she was with Tony at the range. Have you heard from Tony today?”
“Tony was on his way to Chicago, his old posting, to clear something up. Have you called him? He may be on a plane.”
I didn’t reply.
“Joey?” she queried.
“Chicago, you said,” I replied, as my mind went into gear. “Victoria, do me a favor. Can you check to see where Tony has been assigned before Chicago? Would you mind doing that, and calling me back?”
“I don’t have to check, I know where. After the Academy, he was assigned to Atlanta, then he went back for more training, with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico. After that, he was assigned to the BAU in D.C. for a year, after which he went to Chicago. Why do you want to know?”
I was stunned. Was this our guy? I asked myself. I looked at Father Dom, sitting next to me, and mouthed the words; fuck.
Father Dom just frowned.
“Victoria, do me another favor. Have Tony call you when he lands. Leave him a message to do so. Make something up, I’ll explain later.”
“Sure, Joey. But, what about Marcy?” she asked.
“I’ll call you back in a few minutes, and thank you.”
Detective Lucy walked into the pub, with her wide, infectious smile. She greeted Dom and hugged me. “Good morning boys.”
“Let’s walk over to the office, we may have something developing here,” I said, in a somber tone.
I saw Lucy exchanged glances with Dom, and her smile vanished. Just then, the rest of the team walked in; Mr. Pat, Angela, and Agnes. I waved them over, to come into the office.
We all sat down at our conference table. I think my face showed the concern I was feeling, ‘cause no one made any small talk, or funny quips, as usual.
Patrick asked, “What’s going on?”
Just then my phone rang, I raised my index finger at Pat, motioning to give me a minute.
“Mr. Rodriguez,” I said, as I answered the call, “any news?”
“She’s not at her place, and she’s still not answering her phone. And Joey, her bags, for our trip, are still there. Packed, but, just there.”
“Okay, Alberto. I have the police checking for any accidents yesterday, or today. I’ll call you with any news. You do the same. I’m sure she’s fine.”
“Joey, her car is also there…” he said, as his voice trailed off.
I didn’t know what to say. I sat there looking around the table. All eyes were on me. “Alberto, I’ll keep you posted. Hang in there.”
There was dead silence in the room, as I clicked off the phone, and stared at the floor.
Lucy broke the silence asking, “Joey, what’s going on?”
Looking up, but beyond anyone present, I replied, “Marcy is missing.”
21
I pushed back from the table, leaning back on the chair, and covering my face with both hands, as my gaze was straight up at the ceiling.
Angela, broke the silence, “Joey, what are you thinking?”
“I’m not liking what I’m thinking,” I replied, pulling myself back to the table. Turning to Lucy, I said, “Lucy, please call Victoria Stewart, find out what flight Agent Belford is on. Then, call the airline, and have them check the manifest. I have a bad feeling he didn’t check in for the flight.”
Patrick rubbed his red-beard, “Why lad, you think this Belford character is involved in this?”
I opened my palms, facing Mr. Pat, I answered, “I hope not, but, last night, all these thoughts kept creeping up. One after the other, it was as if someone was whispering to me.”
Agnes added, “That’s your subconscious working. You are talking to yourself.”
I heard Agnes, but, I wasn’t listening, “What?” I probed, turning to Agnes.
“You’ve been thinking about those ideas, but, haven’t verbalized your thoughts. That’s why they’re in your subconscious. Tell us.”
“You may be right,” I alleged, “I think, I didn’t want to believe my thoughts.”
Lucy broke in, “Belford was scheduled to take American Airlines 289, at seven-thirty this morning, from La Guardia to O’Hare,” she said. Frowning, and shaking her head, she added, “He was a no-show.”
Everyone’s gaze went from Lucy to me. I looked around the table, starting to my immediate left, Dom, followed by, Lucy, Angela, Mr. Pat, and sitting to my right, Agnes. “Okay, here’s what I’ve been thinking.”
As if choreographed, everyone leaned forward.
“Marcy has been complaining about Belford being very possessive of her. He’s been pressuring her to go out socially. Advances which, she has rejected every time. When we were together, and Belford was profiling our unsub, I noted a couple of things he said. Things which, until now, didn’t mean much. For instance, when we talked about letting the press and the public know about a serial killer, he personalized it by saying; ‘might as well be on our terms.’ He was insisting that the killer wanted credit,” I said, as I softly pounded the table.
Dom asked, “What else?”
I pointed at Lucy, “It was something you said.” I looked to my left. “Lucy, warned me about this guy, Belford, as it related to Marcy, saying something like; ‘be careful with this guy, he’s a salesman, and is always, selling, selling.’ Remember?”
“I did say that,” Lucy replied, “but, how does that tie in?”
I responded, “Back when we were profiling, Bedford made a crude joke. He said, the difference between love and rape, is salesmanship.”
Angela noted, “That is crude, but, we know our killer is successful in enticing our vics into sex, on their first date, right?”
I nodded, “Hopefully not all his dates agreed. But, there’s more. When we spoke about ViCAP, the FBI’s database for crime search, he said, we’ll be able to search for similar crimes, assuming the killer used the same signature. So, he’s very much aware of that.”
Lucy said, “And we know that none of the unsolved murders we looked at have the same signature. They have a signature, but, not the same one. Clever.”
“Agnes,” I said, “you were the first one to observe that all our victims looked like Marcy.”
“I know,” Agnes said, almost apologetically.
Father Dom added, “So, you’re saying that this guy is obsessed with Marcy, and since she has rejected his advances, it triggered his killing spree?”
“Perhaps brother,” I replied, “but, we need a psychiatrist to answer that one.”
Mr. Pat queried, “Assuming we are right, and this Belford character is our unsub, what caused this possible abduction of Marcy? I mean, why now?”
Everyone looked back at me. I thought for a second, and replied, “By accident, I told Marcy of our stakeout at Ernie’s. She in turn, innocently, told Belford about it, after he asked her where I was, and how was the case unfolding.”
“When did she tell him?” Lucy inquired.
I replied, “The same day we were going to do it.”
Angela broke in, “So, he knew we would be at Ernie’s before we went on the stakeout?”
“Precisely,” I replied, “maybe he saw us outside Ernie’s. If he knew we were there, then he, had his reverse stakeout.”
“I need to ask,” Angela said, “does Belford use a Bluetooth device?”
I nodded, “He doesn’t use it, he wears the freaking thing all the time.”
“Let me ask another question,” Angela retorted, “does he know, we know, about the device being left behind? If so, he got rid of that piece of evidence.”
I shook my head, “I did not share that with Marcy. So, it’s not likely he knows we know that.”
“Good,” Angela said.
Patrick asked, “We need to locate Marcy. Have you tried finding her phone?”
Agnes replied, “I did Mr. Pat. Joey has her iPhone password. Her phone seems to be off.”
“Can we locate Belford?” Angela asked.
I reached for my phone and called Victoria Stewart. “Victoria,” I said when she answered. “I need to bring you up-to-date on something, and I need your help.”
She replied, “Joey, I figured something is not right. I’m right outside your door. Let me in.”
I motioned to Pat, “She’s outside, let her in.”
“The pub’s door?” Patrick asked, surprised.
I nodded and pointed to the pub.
Victoria walked into our office, and I made some quick introductions of the team members gathered. “Victoria,” I said, “we need to locate Tony Belford.”
“Tell me what’s going on?” she asked, sitting down at the conference table, taking the chair Patrick had been seated at.
I started by telling her that we had concluded Marcy was with agent Belford, and not of her own free will. I then went on to give her the down and dirty of the case we were working on.
Not wasting any time with more questions, she proceeded to call her office and put a tracer on Belford’s phone, and car. I knew that it would be a waste of time, But, it was a place to start. If Belford had abducted Marcy, his phone would be off, and he would not be driving his car.
“Could they be back at the range?” Victoria asked. “I know Marcy was dead set on taking the test in a few days.”
“No,” I replied, “if they went yesterday, she wouldn’t be back today. Too much stress on her arm and shoulder. Besides, she was leaving on a trip with her parents today.”
“What range was she going to, Joey? I’ll send a patrol car to check, just in case,” asked Lucy.
“I know they go to a couple of them, Try, Westside Gun Range, on West 20th, that’s the nearest,” I replied.
“There has to be an explanation,” Victoria began, “I just can’t believe Belford is your man.”
I pounded both my palms on the table, pushing back, I got up and walked away. Speaking a bit too loud, “Shit, this is all my fault, shit!”
Everyone was taken aback by my sudden reaction.
Dom said, “Joey, you can’t blame yourself, —”
I cut him off, “Don’t you see, I inadvertently told Marcy about our stakeout. He, Belford, found out from her, and it set this whole thing in motion. Of course, it’s my fault.”
Lucy said, “This is not the time to play the blame game. We need to find Marcy.”
“Patrick asked, “How about a BOLO?”
Lucy replied, “We don’t have enough for a ‘be on the look-out’ call. Plus, we don’t know what car they’re in yet.”
Victoria added, “Once we know if Belford is in his car, we could rethink that.”
I sat down again, “You can bet they’re not driving around. He must have abducted her yesterday, before, or, after the range. She might be…” my voice trailed off, I couldn’t finish the sentence.
Victori
a answered her cell phone, as everyone kept their eyes on her. “Well, there’s no trace of his phone. And his car is at his place,” she said, glancing around the table.
“Great!” I said, “We can’t trace either their phones or their cars. He could have her anywhere, for all we know.”
Lucy broke in, “Joey, the officers that are at Westside Range, report both Belford and Marcy, were there yesterday until three in the afternoon. They left together.”
“Are the officers still there,” I asked.
“Yes, they are,” Lucy replied.
“Have them ask if anyone saw them drive away if so, see if anyone remembers the car they were in,” I said, looking at Lucy.
“Mrs. Stewart,” Father Dom said, “could you check into Belford’s background? Before he joined the Bureau go back as far as you can. From birth, if possible.”
I turned to Dom, “What’re you thinking?”
Dom replied, “One of the theories we’re working on, is that the unsub may have had a traumatic upbringing, possibly suffered from molestation, or abuse. Let’s find out about Belford’s.”
“Good one Father,” Mr. Patrick observed.
“Agnes,” I said, turning to her, “get a map of the tristate area. Let’s begin with the idea that Belford drove out of the City, at about three in the afternoon. If Marcy was an unwilling participant, then he must have drugged her somehow. He must have had a place to go to in mind. Right?” I asked, looking for affirmations.
Father Dom started to ask the question I didn’t want to hear, “Joey, what if, —”
Thrusting myself away from the table, I interrupted Dom. “What if nothing, no! He didn’t kill her. I think he’s obsessed with her. That’s why he’s acting out, and killing these other look-a-likes. In his bizarre way, he loves her. The sick bastard.”
