Hidden Crime

by W L Knightly

  Jo gave a half-hearted smile. “Let’s hope that Mr. Preston is out on the course, and our security guards don’t know what they’re talking about.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I’d almost like it better if he were gone out of town. At least the Hangman couldn’t get to him.”

  She eased back in her seat, and Jake started the car, driving out of the driveway slowly and then making his way back to the guard shack

  Jake waved to the man and drove away.

  “You’re not telling him what we found out?”

  “Not yet. Let’s check the course before we create a public panic. Those people gossip. I’m sure they all already know we’ve been in to check out the Prestons’ house.”

  They turned into the golf course which was just up the road from the gates to give the public access. “I’ll go look at the registry,” said Jo.

  “Ask if they’ve seen Preston. He might not have signed in.” He knew many of the wealthier men came and went as they pleased.

  “I’ve got it.” She got out and went across the lawn to the clubhouse.

  As he sat waiting, he looked out over the greens but didn’t see Preston anywhere. Then he turned his head, and Jo’s blonde hair caught the sunlight. She was an angel bathed in gold, and he felt like the devil had stolen his soul.

  “No luck,” she said, sliding into the car. “Let’s head back to the station. We still have to find our mystery girl, Melissa.”

  “Man, I hope he turns up. And not on the end of a fucking noose.” He started the car and drove across town.

  As they walked across the parking lot, a car pulled up beside them, and Jake turned to stare at the tinted window, palming his gun.

  “Don’t shoot, officer,” said Leigh as she put down the window. “I just had so much fun at lunch that I thought I’d ask you out for dinner.”

  Jake’s eyes widened, and he glanced over at Jo, whose expression had steeped with anger.

  “I know we said we’d take it slow, but I thought you might be just as anxious for another round as me.” She turned toward Jo as if she hadn’t seen her standing there. “Oh, hello, Detective Calloway.”

  “Dr. Meadows.” She turned and walked away, heading for the office.

  Jake looked down at Leigh. “What the fuck, Leigh? Is this high school? You’re pissing on your territory after we already set boundaries?”

  Her face fell. “I just thought we had some fun. I’d like to do it again.”

  “It was fun until now. I’ll catch you later.” He backed away from the car, and as he walked away, she sped off, her tires squealing as she left the parking lot. He glanced up to see Jo had already made it into the station.

  Chapter 28

  The Hangman

  The Hangman took a long drag on the cigar and then blew a large smoke ring. He and his buddies in his unit would have contests to see who could blow the biggest, and he usually won. They had all said it was because he had a big mouth, which was a running joke because of his quiet and reserved nature. He missed those days. Even though he had been away from his family, they had been alive back then.

  The ring dissipated into the air, and his attention was brought to the man on the floor in front of him.

  He had already secured a noose to a hook in the ceiling and had it around Preston’s neck. He had removed his shirt, his hands were tied, and one of the couple’s beautiful dining-room chairs waited for him to stand on.

  Thankfully, the house was well insulated, especially the man’s study, a windowless room lined with a library of books. The chances of anyone hearing screams or anything else from that room were slim to none. But that hadn’t stopped the Hangman from hearing Thomas and his new partner, the pretty blonde, daughter to Michael Young, as they made their appearance. He had hoped things weren’t about to go south before he could complete his kill. But luckily, they had come and gone.

  Taking Preston out of his house would have been too complicated and dangerous. This way, he could leave the scene and not worry about dragging the man along with him. Things were getting down to the wire, and now that the detectives knew who he was, he had to be even more careful.

  But he didn’t really give a fuck that they knew. It was catching him that counted. His only goal was to finish his game and to win it. And then he would decide his own fate.

  As Preston roused, the Hangman got to his feet.

  He rolled over in a panic and began writhing on the floor, looking much like a fish that had flopped out of its bowl.

  He walked closer and towered over Preston, who glared up at him with wide eyes filled with fear and tears. The Hangman ripped off his tape, and the man winced in pain.

  “You’re not going to get away with this,” said Preston. “I have eyes on me.”

  The Hangman shook his head slowly. “No, the detectives went away. And I’ll be long done with you before they get back.”

  The old man struggled against his bindings. “How dare you come into my house? At least have the decency to take me elsewhere.”

  “Are you afraid your wife will come home and find you? That she’ll open the door and look up to see you hanging here? I know that fear. I felt it myself when I came home to my wife and daughter.”

  “I’m sorry for your pain. I’m a changed man.”

  “I have no doubt such decisions change men. Yours changed mine as well. You defended Kyle Young and allowed his father to buy the entire trial, just so you could keep a good record.”

  “My record was not perfect, and if anything, my decision to help the Youngs tainted my life. It’s cursed me to misery. I find no joy in what happened.”

  “Yet, you carry none of my grief. You only carry pity. And I don’t need it.”

  “Young is trying to hire someone else. Since you killed White, he’s got another lined up. You’re playing with a hydra. He’ll just keep sprouting heads. I could help you. I could get you names.”

  “I’m not afraid of the hydra. I’m burning you all down one at a time, and as for your last hitman, I let him walk. If he’s dead, it’s not by my hand. That should tell you something about your pal Senator Young.”

  “We’re barely friends,” he insisted.

  “I’ve seen your photographs in the papers. The two of you, thick as thieves, ready to take on the world. Well, here I am.” He put the cigar between his teeth and then reached down and grabbed the rope, tugging it upward so that Preston scrambled to his feet to keep the rope from getting too tight.

  “Please, let me go, and I’ll make sure you’re treated fairly. You have to know that you’re going to get caught eventually.”

  It wasn’t a matter of getting caught or not. He knew the game would be over someday. “Stand on the chair.” He had always found this to be one of his favorite parts, leading the lamb to the slaughter.

  Preston looked at the chair, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “Please, don’t do this to my wife. She’s innocent.”

  He removed the cigar from his mouth as he held on to the rope. “Don’t worry. The cops will find you long before she does.”

  Preston stepped up on the chair, and before he had his balance, the Hangman cinched the rope tighter, tying off the other end of the rope. “Now, let’s play.” The Hangman took a puff from the cigar and blew the smoke into his face.

  “I don’t know the rules,” he said with a strain in his voice. The rope had to be a bit uncomfortable, and that was just the way the Hangman liked it.

  “It’s easy,” he said as he walked over to remove a painting of a Victorian woman lounging near a stream. The wall would make a perfect gameboard, and the blood would only do the tacky wallpaper favors. “You’ll guess a letter. You have six chances to reveal your sin.”

  He pulled the knife from its sheath and struck out, stabbing the man in the shoulder and causing him to cry out in agony. His mouth gaped open as he wailed and rocked on his feet.

  “I’ve got a bit of work to do first.” He dipped his fingers in the bloo
d and drew the gallows and eleven blanks for his word.

  “That’s one word?” He looked at the wall, his eyes following the blanks as if he were counting each one.

  “Yes, just one. But don’t worry. You know it well.” He didn’t ever care if they got their fucking puzzles right or not. His only intention was to inflict as much pain and give the bastards a hopeless feeling. It was all he got from them. Pain and hopelessness. To the point where he ended up on the end of a fucking rope.

  “If I guess it correctly, will you let me go like White?” His voice was shaky, and he had such hope in his eyes that it gave the Hangman great pleasure to see it fade with the truth.

  “No. There is no winning for you. As for your hitman, I didn’t let White go. Someone else saved him. Too bad you won’t get a chance to ask Michael Young about that. But don’t worry. I’ll find out. I know everything.” He had enough time over the past year to make sure that things went smoothly enough. And so far, he was pretty proud of the outcome. “Go ahead. Give me a letter.”

  The man’s hope turned to confusion. “If I can’t win, then why would I play?”

  The Hangman reached out and slashed his chest. “Give me a fucking letter.”

  “G,” he said. “The letter G.” He closed his eyes and waited, but the Hangman struck out again, causing him to open his eyes wide with pain and fear.

  “Sorry, no G.”

  Preston looked down at his feet as he tried to gain his balance, his feet not nearly as shaky.

  The Hangman reached forward and dipped his fingers into the wound, causing a blood-curdling scream to come from Cane Preston that sounded nearly like a woman’s. “Please,” he begged as he tried to keep his balance. “I’m going to fall.”

  The Hangman drew a circle at the gallows. “Another letter. Choose wisely.”

  “E. There has to be an E in that long word.”

  “There are two.” The Hangman reached for the man’s wound, and Preston yelled out in anticipation.

  “Please, no. Please.” He screamed out in agony. His knees buckled, and the rope tightened more as his face turned red. He struggled, and for a moment, he nearly tipped the chair, but when he finally got it righted, there was a fresh trail of piss wetting the front of his pants.

  The Hangman drew the letters in their places and then turned back to him. “Give me another one.”

  “No winning,” the man said, struggling against the tight rope for a breath to speak. “Hurts. Either. Way.”

  The Hangman puffed on the cigar, which now had a good bit of blood on it from his fingers. It sizzled as the lit end burned down. “Yes, just like me. I stood there in that trial for days, reliving every painful moment, and there was no way I was going to win either. Now, tell me another fucking letter.”

  Preston looked down at him. “S.” He hissed the word out like a snake.

  “Now you sound like your true nature, a fucking snake.” The Hangman shrugged. “That’s a good guess. Really, it is. You’d think there was one of those too, right? I mean, such a long fucking word, and not one S.” He reached out and sliced the man across his stomach. The gash spread open so wide and fast, the yellow fatty tissue was exposed moments before the blood poured.

  The man managed to stay still for it as if he were growing numb to the pain. Can’t have that, can we?

  “Please. Quick.” He met his eyes directly, the pleading look a pathetic last attempt.

  The Hangman shook his head. “I’m afraid not.” It never ceased to amaze him how many begged for mercy yet had given him none. He thought of his little girl’s suffering and readied his hands. Then he thought of her lying beside his wife, their blood soaking the sheets around them, and he struck.

  His fingers punched into the wound, the flesh taking the hit with a splatter as he dug deeply. The man’s chair rocked and wobbled under his unsteady feet, and soon, he was using the noose around his neck as tension to keep himself upright.

  The Hangman watched in anticipation to see if Cane Preston would be able to work his way out of the situation.

  “Sorry.” Preston squeaked the word out with his last breath, and then the chair’s leg snapped. His eyes widened, bulging as the rope grew even tighter with the quick movement.

  He dangled on that rope a moment, and then with a gaping mouth and eyes that looked like they were moments from bursting, he stilled, the life gone.

  “Apology not accepted, asshole.” He reached out to still the man from swinging and then took the cigar and snuffed it out on Preston’s sweaty forehead, the flesh sizzling as the fire burned through it.

  Chapter 29

  Kyle

  Dannie had gotten off work at five, and while he hadn’t wanted to pick her up too early, he had to make sure things were in place for his plan. He pulled up at her house by six, and they were on the road in plenty of time to make an appearance.

  “I’m so excited to go to the Lakeside Grill. I hear they have some of the best fish in the area.”

  “I hear that too.” He remembered Kendra telling him that, which was all part of his plan.

  “Well, I haven’t tried it yet. None of those low-rent losers I’ve dated on the force want to take me there. They bring me to those mom and pop places, which is why I know every fucking diner in the city.”

  “Stick with me, and you’ll go places,” he said, repeating a line he’d read somewhere before.

  “I would go with you anywhere, Kyle.” She giggled and then rolled her eyes. “God, I sound like a mooning little fool, don’t I? I mean, I know we’re taking it slow.”

  “Did you hear anything about the murders?”

  “No, and I tried to go and ask, but Jake wouldn’t tell me anything. I should have tried to ask Jo. I could have played her a lot easier. She’s probably starving for a friend. I don’t think she’s made many since being here. All those two do is work. And the stuff she sees? No thank you. I could never handle that kind of thing.”

  “I’d like to think I could, being a man and all, but honestly, I’m not sure.” He did his best to turn on his sensitive act, and so far, she seemed to buy it.

  “Well, I heard it was a little girl. She’d been cut up really bad. Not many, male or female, could handle that. I’ve even heard that Jake has issues. There was this case years ago, and it was so bad that it fucked him up.” She put the visor down and frowned. “Where is the mirror?”

  “It’s a rental. It didn’t come with one. But you look amazing. No need to mess it up with more lipstick.” He put his hand over the tube she pulled out of her purse. “Besides, I’m only going to kiss it off.”

  Dannie’s eyes lit with her smile, and she kissed his cheek and put her hand on his thigh. “You keep being so fucking irresistible, and I’m going to want to skip dinner.”

  He gave her a sideward look, and while he wanted to tell her not a chance in hell, he grinned and agreed. “I’ll behave. For now.” Nothing was going to make him miss his chance of seeing his Kendra, and not only that, but she had to believe that he was making an effort to move on. Hopefully, it would be enough when he killed her husband, and she wouldn’t suspect he’d done it. He’d ditch Dannie and then go back to Kendra to offer her comfort and support.

  They finally made it to the restaurant. The large lodge-like cedar building overlooked the lake and had so many windows, nearly every table must have had a view in the daytime. After dark, the place was lit up, and the lights reflected off the water, giving it a soft glow.

  As they walked up the path to the front door, Dannie gasped. “Wow, look at that. It’s nearly full.” For a moment, he thought she was referring to the restaurant, but she pointed in the distance toward the moon. It hung low over the water. “It’s so big.” She gripped his hand tightly, and he led her inside.

  She was so happy and seemed proud to be there with him, which was perfect. It would make Kendra even less suspicious that he was really there hoping to see her.

  When they walked in, he scanned the room and found Tat
e Bodin at his table alone. “Miss? Could you please sit us on this side. Back corner, please?” He handed her a crisp hundred, and she glanced over her shoulder with wide eyes.

  “There’s a table right this way, sir.” She hurried them back, and Dannie was too preoccupied with the view to see the judge. Tate sat her where she could overlook the water and the moon in the distance, and he sat where he would have a nice view of Tate and Kendra.

  He wondered where she might be. Had she gone to the bathroom? He hoped that he wasn’t dining alone, but then there was an extra glass across from him.

  “So, did you start your book? The one with the courtroom drama?”

  He forced a grin. “I’m still not that inspired. I was hoping you could help me.” He gave her a pleading look.

  “Anything,” she said, placing her hand on his.

  “I know you’re not one for those gruesome details, but if you could get me some copies of the police reports, I’d like to have specifics to write about. It just makes it more realistic.”

  “I’m not sure I can do that.” She gave him a look like her entire impression of him was crumbling. “I’m kind of weirded out that you asked me.”

  He put his hand on his heart. “Oh, wow, I didn’t even think of the position that would put you in. I’m so sorry. I just thought since it’s public record and all…”

  “Not when an investigation is ongoing.”

  “Oh, shit. I didn’t even think of that.”

  “I could maybe get you some old reports?”

  “Eh.” He shrugged. “I was just really interested in this new case. You see, there’s this publishing company who is offering me big money to write something that’s close to a true crime. If I was ahead of this curve, it would help a lot. There might even be money in it for you. I mean, a lot of people pay their sources, especially when they can’t list them in the book.”

  “Isn’t that illegal?” Her brows pinched together as she gave him an accusing look.