They’d decided that Harri would do both of the interviews as Tom didn't want to traumatize the girls any further by being interviewed by a man.
“Georgie,” Debi said. “It was a woman named Georgie Shipwell. She saw me at one of my auditions and we became friends. She took me to Desmond Ryan’s acting class and paid for private lessons.”
Debi's tears rolled down her face.
“Debi, none of this was your fault,” Harri said.
“I was so stupid though,” Debi sobbed. “Here I thought I was some street-smart girl who had managed to keep myself safe for the last two years and I fell for a woman I’d just met promising me the world. She was so nice, though. I mean, she's the daughter of a famous movie star. How could a woman do this to me?”
“It’s a betrayal,” Harri acknowledged. “You were obviously manipulated. Tell me how she got you to go with her to the party?”
“She wanted to pay for the private lessons with Desmond Ryan and I told her, you know I can’t afford that. She said some stuff about giving back and helping struggling artists or something. She seemed for real. Like she really believed in me and my talent.” Debi paused to wipe her tears and take a deep breath.
“When I agreed to the lessons, she was happy. Then she said come meet my friends at this fine Hollywood party. I tried to ask where it was, so I could let Janie know and she said it was a secret because the party was exclusive. I trusted her. When she picked me up in the town car, she gave me champagne to drink and that's the last I remember,” Debi said.
“And that's when you woke up in the room?” Harri asked.
“Yes. And I was all messed up. My body hurt and my private parts hurt too,” she said and blushed.
“We understand. You had a rape kit done, correct?” she asked.
Debi nodded.
“Do you remember any of the men who did that to you?” Harri asked.
“I woke up that way. I don't remember anyone hurting me until those two men that you knocked out.”
“What else can you tell me about Georgie Shipwell? Do you know where she lives? Does she have a regular job that she mentioned?”
“I don’t know,” Debi said. “She drove a white BMW to Desmond Ryan’s. All the casting agents seemed to know her. Like they were friends. She said she had a lot of money and had always had a lot of money. I don’t think she liked her dad very much, maybe. I don’t know.”
“Okay. Just rest now. We can have you come down to the station to make a formal statement for us after you’re released,” Harri said.
Debi nodded.
Harri and Tom nodded at the uniform guarding Debi’s room as the went back out to the hallway.
“She won't be able to testify Bryan Mortimer was the one who took her,” Harri said in a low voice. “We need to bring in Georgie Shipwell. I’ve looked for that name and came up with nothing. Has to be an alias, or maybe a stage name. Debi has her cell number, too.”
“That’ll be a burner, I’m sure,” Tom said, matching Harri’s tone. “Addison’s awake. I got the text when you were talking with Debi. They’re only giving us a couple of minutes with her, though.”
“I’m thinking she won’t know who took her, either.”
“We have him on tape with Sophie Lambert.”
“Will that be enough?” Harri asked. “He’ll have the best lawyers and so far, he’s covered his tracks extremely well.”
Harri’s stomach was in knots. Could Bryan Mortimer be devious enough to get away with all that he’d done? How would he explain away the captivity? The trafficked girls? And was he the killer who’d taken the lives of those twelve girls Tom had discovered in the old case files? What about Stephen Ladner? His neighbor said she’d heard two male voices besides Stephen’s. Was it some of his security team? Was it the two private investigators who’d been following Harri and Tom? And who was behind the wheel of the black sports car that had tried to run Harri off the road? Could it have been Mortimer himself?
“Detective Harper!”
Harri turned at the sound of her name and saw Janie, Debi’s roommate, coming down the hall, struggling to carry a huge teddy bear and flower arrangement.
Tom immediately moved forward to take the flower arrangement out of her arms.
“Janie,” Harri smiled. “It’s nice to see you.”
“Likewise,” Janie said and then glanced at Debi’s room. “How is she?”
Harri wasn’t sure what to say. Pretty good, considering?
“I think she’ll be over the moon to see you.” Harri said.
Tom handed the flower arrangement to the uniformed officer and nodded toward the room. He followed Janie in and closed the door behind him.
Harri and Tom walked down the hall and into Addison James’ hospital room. Addison looked like a tiny thing in a large bed and had far more wires than one would think possible sticking out of her.
Mavis James sat next to her bed, holding her daughter’s hand.
“You found her for me,” she said.
Harri nodded.
“Do you think we could talk to her for a second?” Harri asked.
“Of course.”
Mavis James stood and hesitated for a moment until Tom escorted her into the hallway.
Harri sat where Mavis had been and looked down at the girl. Her light brown curls made a halo around her head and she looked perfectly in peace.
Addison opened her eyes and looked at Harri.
“Where’s my mom?” she asked.
“She’s here,” Harri assured her. “She’s just right out there in the hallway.”
“Hi, my name is Harri. I'm a detective with the LAPD,” she said.
“My mom said you're the one who found me,” Addison whispered.
“I did,” Harri said, choking back a tear. “I found you. Like I promised I would.”
“Thank you, Harri.”
Harri sat quietly for a moment. She didn’t want to interrupt the peacefulness that Addison had found after her horrific ordeal. Then she sighed and did her job.
“Addison, I need to ask you some questions, is that okay?”
Addison nodded in response.
“What happened to you? How did you get into that room?”
“Sophie,” Addison said. “My friend Sophie Lambert brought me to this party. I knew we were in trouble the moment we got there. It was some sort of sex party. A producer that Sophie was trying to get a job from invited her and she didn't want to go by herself. Where is Sophie?”
Harri realized no one had told Addison that her best friend was dead. She wasn’t well enough yet to handle the news, Harri thought. How could she avoid the topic?
“How did you two get separated?” Harri asked.
“Sophie went looking for the producer and I lost her. I looked for her and found her being led up the stairs by some old guys, so I followed them. I tried to get her away from them and one of them stabbed me with something. I think he injected me with something. I felt a prick on my back, and I remember falling,” she said.
“What happened when you woke up?” Harri asked.
Addison turned her face away from Harri and looked for her mom, who was still out in the hallway with Tom.
“It's okay, Addison.” Harri reassured her. “None of this was your fault.”
“I woke up in a room,” Addison said. “I don’t know where I was. I couldn’t get out. I was really messed up. I could hardly think. I couldn’t’ stand.”
Harri waited for her to continue.
“I knew someone had sex with me because I hurt down there, and I saw blood on the sheets. And then that's really all that I remember. I would wake up and then blackout again. There was food and sometimes clothes. I never put on the clothes, but then I would wake up wearing them.” Addison said.
Harri patted her hand.
“You’re doing great, Addison,” Harri said. “Did you ever hear the name Georgie Shipwell? Or Bryan Mortimer?” Harri asked.
Addison shook her hea
d no. “Bryan Mortimer? Like the movie director?”
Harri nodded.
“No,” Addison shook her head. “No, I don’t know. I didn’t really see anyone.”
“Thank you,” Harri said and smiled at Mavis James who was eager to come back into the room. Harri stood up from the chair and left the mother and daughter alone.
“Dammit,” Harri said to Tom once she was back in the hallway.
“We have the video. We'll get him on that,” Tom said.
Harri nodded.
“I think it's time for you to get some sleep. We have a long road ahead to make our case,” he said.
“We have to find him first,” Harri said. “He could be on a private jet right now flying to god knows where.” Like Jerome Wexler did, Harri thought.
“We’ll get him,” Tom said. “Good thing about Mortimer is he loved to get his picture taken and he’s pretty much a household name. All the looky-loos will be calling us with sightings.”
“I hope you're right,” Harri said. Exhaustion was hitting her in and she was worried she wouldn't be able to drive home.
Tom nodded at the uniform on Addison’s door and walked with her to the elevator.
“Hate to say it, Harri, but you look like shit.”
Harri glared at him. “So? You look like shit every day.”
“No, I don’t. Get some sleep is all I’m saying. You found the girls and they’re safe now.”
“You’re right,” Harri sighed. “I’m heading home.”
She’d wanted to talk to the girls, and now she had. They had some long hours ahead building the case against Bryan Mortimer. And there was still Stephen Ladner’s death and the serial killer Tom had uncovered.
Harri carried those thoughts back to her car. She drove home in the afternoon light, wondering again who’d been following them. Did Bryan Mortimer hire those PI’s too? Another thread of the investigation they had to wrap up.
So many threads, she thought as she focused on the road. Last thing she needed to do was get into an accident.
41
Day 5
Harri Harper dropped her purse on the floor and kicked off her shoes. She heard the door click closed behind her and she reset her alarm. Full body pain streamed through her as she contemplated the stairs to her bedroom.
She groaned and her body screamed in pain as she climbed the first flight. She really was going to have to do something about the stairs. Harri grit her teeth and made it to the second landing. Apparently, the Advil had worn off. She crawled the third set of stairs and heaved herself back on her feet.
She’d made it. Harri dropped face first onto the bed and finally allowed herself to surrender to the deep sleep her body, mind, and soul craved.
Harri’s eyes snapped open and she stared into the dark eyes of Bryan Mortimer.
He was on top of her.
On her bed.
In her bedroom and in her house.
He narrowed his eyes at her.
“I told you I’d catch you, bitch,” he said with a sneer.
He hadn’t had the time to tie her hands before she woke up. He was straddling her at her hips, preventing her from moving. Her arms were free.
In a flash, Harri felt around for her side-table and the heavy wooden lamp on it.
This was going to hurt like hell, she thought. Her fingers felt the wood.
She screamed at the effort of lifting the lamp off the table and crashing it into his head.
He howled in pain and fell off of her.
His body hit the floor with a thump. She turned to see where he’d gone.
That's when she noticed the noose around her neck.
It was a thick white rope, the kind that sailors use for their rigging. She worked her fingers underneath it to pull it looser. Instead, it tightened around her hand and neck.
She turned her head to see Bryan. His head bleeding as he held the end of the rope in the doorway.
The pulley system. Harri realized he must have rigged something in her bedroom while she slept. The noose tightened around her neck. Stars appeared at the fringes of her vision.
He was hoisting her body up. Like he must have done with Stephen.
She felt her upper body leaving the bed. He was stringing her up. Her airway was constricting, and she knew she would lose consciousness soon.
Her mind screamed at her to do something.
She could hardly breathe, even though she still had her hand in between the noose and her neck. She was getting sips of air, but they weren’t enough. She was fading into unconsciousness.
Harri knew she had only seconds to react.
It took all her effort to raise her knee and use her other hand to find the ankle holster and her gun.
Thank goodness she had placed it back in her holster. She protected Debi and Addison from him. She’d rescued them. There was no way she was going to let him kill her and get away with all the horror and pain he’d inflicted on so many.
With one finger, she clicked off the switch. The darkness was taking over. She’d run out of breath. The noose was tight, and her hand was making his job go even faster.
Harri had one shot at this.
As she gasped for the little sips of air, she pulled up her hand, her shoulder screaming. She only had one shot.
Do it, she thought as she focused on the blurred image that she thought was Bryan Mortimer’s head. Her eyes lost focus.
She pulled the trigger.
Pop.
Pop.
She squeezed off two more rounds.
One of them must have hit because the rope suddenly loosened, and her body fell back to the bed.
She choked and gasped for air, coughing and wheezing.
Harri clawed at the noose. It wasn’t loosening.
She used whatever energy she had left to pull her trapped hand away from her neck.
The sips of air became gulps of air.
She breathed in oxygen until the black spots left her vision. Harri worked the knot on the noose again until the hole was big enough to pull it back over her head. She threw it away from her, sitting upright and gasping.
Where was he? Harri frantically blinked her eyes until her vision came back enough to focus. She must have killed him, because he didn’t make a sound.
Then she saw him, slumped against the wall. Her vision cleared and she was again able to focus even though she could barely swallow.
She sat up to get a better view of him. His pants were unzipped, and his hand was still on his exposed penis.
In disgust, Harri realized he must have been masturbating as he was stringing her up. Her bullets had penetrated his chest near his heart. A red bloom of blood marred his white shirt. His features were slack.
She turned away from the gory sight.
She had killed him.
Harri lay back on her bed, catching her breath as her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She started to sob, and then wail, and then she heard someone shrieking in rage and recognized the voice as her own.
42
Day 12
It had been a week since Bryan Mortimer had tried to kill Harri in her own home. She had been cleared of his death several days later.
It was an open and shut self-defense situation, seeing as he’d broken into her home and strung her up to kill her in her own bedroom.
Detective Tom Bards and his teams found evidence in Mortimer’s compound of the drugs he’d used on the girls. They also found a treasure trove of trophies he’d kept from over eighteen girls that had gone missing or died in the last twenty years. Tom found Stephen Ladner’s research and article among his trophies. He’d killed Ladner too and tried to make it look like suicide
Bryan Mortimer had kept a library of videos and photos of the girls he’d killed and the hundreds of girls he’d kidnapped, drugged, raped, and trafficked.
Harri couldn’t believe the stupidity of keeping all that evidence, but that’s how narcissists were. He wanted his own archive of all the things
he’d done. It all came down to how invincible he’d felt. He never believed he’d get caught.
At least four famous actresses were part of the evidence gathered at his home, and Tom Bards had taken pains to keep their names out of the media.
The ensuing media circus Tom had anticipated had almost overtaken the case.
A cop had shot one of the most famous directors in the world in her own home as he tried to string her up in a noose. The story grew more sensational by the hour as the news broke of Bryan Mortimer’s numerous victims. He’d been both a serial killer and a serial rapist who’d tortured and kept captive so many aspiring young actresses.
Lieutenant Richard Byrne was all over the case and as Tom gathered the evidence to implicate his co-conspirators, like Georgie Shipwell and the men who had been caught up in the sweep at the party, Byrne was busy putting his face in front of every reporter’s camera that he could.
It was a massive case, almost bigger than the Creek Killer case because of who Bryan Mortimer was. The case fed the public’s appetite for sensationalism. It had everything the media needed to keep the story churning out. Sex. Money. Fame. Hollywood. Glamour. Drugs. Beautiful Innocent Girls.
Harri had been in the hospital for two days after her ordeal and she was now on leave. She was only too happy to hand the case over to Tom Bards and RHD to deal with.
In the meantime, Jake had found a connection between Jerome Wexler and Bryan Mortimer. His FBI contacts had also found evidence of his possible whereabouts in Berlin.
Jake wouldn’t leave her side while she was in the hospital. His guilt and rage at not being with her when Mortimer broke into her home, was easy to see, but Harry wished he could let it go. She knew why he couldn’t, but she wished she could help him find a way to let his rage go. Maybe, she hoped, if she could find a way to help Jake, she could help herself let go of her own rage, too.
But first she had to recuperate. She’d been in the hospital for two days with bruising around her throat and internal lacerations of her trachea. Her voice box was still traumatized, and her voice came out in a scratchy whisper.
The Broken Trail: A Chilling Serial Killer Thriller (Harriet Harper Thriller Book 3) Page 21
