Glimpse

by Stephen B King

  She snuggled in to his shoulder. “Thank God you’re here, I could never have gotten through this without you. But, what if it’s not a phobia, what if at midnight, everything does stop working, and the missiles are launched?”

  “Then we will be together, to face whatever comes. But, honey? I’ve spoken to so many I.T. guys at work, the WA Police has had the best of the best check out our computers, and every one of them says we have nothing to worry about. Now try and cheer up. I’ve invited your mum and dad for a barbeque, and they are going to stay the night. We all love you, and we will all help you through this.” He squeezed her to him, trying to share his inner strength with her.

  “It’s Amy I worry about most, not me. She’s five years old.”

  “And she’s going to have a whole lifetime ahead of her, try to stop worrying, love. We need to go and buy some things to do for dinner, now your parents are coming. What do you think we should do? I think steaks would be nice.”

  She wiped her eyes and sat up. “You know Dad doesn’t enjoy steak since he got his new teeth. He can’t seem to chew things with them. The butcher does those nice rissoles, and maybe chicken sausages. I can do salads, maybe a cauliflower cheese.” She stopped in mid-sentence. “you’ve done it again, haven’t you? Distracted me from worrying. Thanks, Rick. Okay, I feel better again. Let’s get Amy and Minty, and go to the shops, I will be all right now.”

  But the gain was short lived. After dinner, during which she could hardly eat a thing, Amy had been bathed, story read, and put to bed with Minty, her fears returned, crashing like waves. She couldn’t sit for too long and her pacing while looking so distraught, worried Rick.

  Rita went into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water. She stood in front of Juliet who was forced to stop pacing and held out the glass and a tablet. “Take this, I insist. It’s just a tranquilizer and will help calm you down, help you get through the next four hours.” Silently, Juliet took the offering and swallowed it, before resuming walking up and down.

  They attempted several games of cards once the pill had worked its magic, but Juliet couldn’t concentrate and seemed drowsy. At 10, Rick put the TV on to watch the celebrations and slowly the new millennium crept ever closer.

  Suddenly Rick had a revelation and cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner. He turned to his wife who looked more upset than at any time he had known her. He grasped her hand in his and shook it to get her attention. “Jules, it’s over, don’t you see? Why didn’t I think of it before? Melbourne, Sydney, New Zealand, they are all ahead of us, their clocks have already clicked over into the new year there. We are not seeing news bulletins of mayhem happening, nothing went wrong, you can stop worrying.”

  She looked up questioning in her gaze, the tablet was slowing her down and she seemed incapable of understanding him.

  He stood and grabbed his phone, and with shaking fingers dialed the number for his elder brother who lived in Sydney. He was a senior Sergeant at a regional police station. Herb clapped his hands “He’s right, love, you can stop worrying, there’s lots of places ahead of us in time, it would be all over the news if they were having problems when they reached midnight.”

  “Bob? It’s Rick, sorry to call you so late. Happy New Year, Bro. Are you celebrating or did I wake you up?”

  He listened for a while, nodding. “Good to hear, Man, so hey, listen, answer a question for me, will you? It’s what…around 1am there, what happened with this Y2K bug thing, did anything go wrong at midnight?”

  Juliet stood on shaky legs, and gripped his upper arms, her face showing a mixture of hope and worry. Silently, she pleaded with him for good news.

  “Okay bro, that’s good to hear, I will let you get back to it, give our love to Kate and the kids, bye for now.” He pressed the disconnect button and tossed the phone aside on the couch and wrapped his arms around the quivering body of Juliet. “He’s on duty Jules so couldn’t chat, busy night for the uniform boys, New Year’s Eve. But he says it was just a hoax. Nothing at all has stopped working, everything is fine, you can relax now.”

  ****

  Ironically, other than Juliet who had panicked, the people who had worried the most almost felt as if they had been cheated when electrical grids didn’t fail or computers turn on their Masters when January first arrived. The Y2K bug had been nothing more than a conspiracy theory, and the new year entered with a whimper, rather than a bang. In the lead-up to the big night, many had held Y2K parties, almost daring things to go wrong at midnight. Planes did not, as had been predicted, drop from the sky, busses and trains didn’t crash, and war didn’t break out between superpowers. TVs still worked and life went on pretty much as normal.

  ****

  All leads in the case had dried up, and eventually Rick and Tyler had been assigned new jobs to focus on. As was usual with unsolved crimes, it would come up for review once a month during a round-table conference with all detectives in the squad, headed up by the Chief Inspector himself. No one liked cold cases. Everyone knew that the more time passed, the more difficult it would be to catch the killer.

  Rick’s confidence had taken a battering over Melanie Cartwright’s murder, and he felt he needed an ‘easy’ investigation to get him back on an even keel. He was glad he had been handed one, but not the circumstances. A domestic violence attack had got out of control. Martina Roberts stabbed her husband in the chest when he approached her with a clothes iron, intending to ‘burn her face off.’ A victim of years of abuse, as proved by hospital records, Rick thought that she might escape an overly long custodial sentence, and could get off altogether with a good lawyer. He gained no pleasure from her arrest.

  The day-to-day business of homicide continued normally, right up until April the fourth. It was just as he had got inside his kitchen after a long day, and hugged Amy, when his mobile phone rang. He popped a piece of the roast chicken Juliet had been carving into his mouth and pressed the talk button on his phone.

  “McCoy.”

  “Rick, its Colin, sorry to ring you after hours.”

  He stood up straight. “No worries, sir, what’s up?”

  “I think it would be best if you came back in, this is not something to go into over the phone, and it will take a while to discuss this. I will wait till you get here, Tyler is coming back in too. Apologize to your wife for me, this is important, I wouldn’t drag you here at this hour if it wasn’t. I can tell you this much, your least favorite killer is back.”

  The phone went dead and Rick was left wondering what it was all about. It had been weeks since Rick had given up on Melanie Cartwright’s case, but it had never been far from his mind. They say that every cop has one unsolved case that haunts them, and that was his. Was there another victim, or could it be fresh information for Melanie’s case?

  “Jules, I’m sorry, but I have to go back to work. I think our man may have left another suitcase.”

  “Oh, God, no. Call me later, will you please? Let me know what’s happening and when you will be home. Please don’t work all night.”

  He hugged her, relishing the way her body molded to his, but this time his mind was elsewhere, worrying what had happened to cause his recall. He kissed her, then crossed the kitchen to the dining table, where Amy was drawing with her crayons, her puppy asleep under her chair.

  He squatted by her side, his gun digging into his hip making him grimace. “Daddy has to go back to work, sweetheart. Mummy will read you the story tonight, but I promise to read you two tomorrow. Is that okay?”

  She nodded, looking up at him with her big brown eyes through her fringe, and his heart melted, as it always did. “You promise, daddy? Two stories? Can I pick which ones, and can Minty lay in bed with me when you read them? He likes stories too.”

  He grinned; she was becoming quite the negotiator. “You know we don’t like Minty on the bed, even though I know you sneak him up there sometimes, don’t you?” He grabbed her sides and tickled, making her giggle. “Two stories, you can pic
k them, and Minty stays on his blanket to listen. Deal?”

  “Okay, daddy. I love you.”

  “I love you too pumpkin. Night, night, sleep tight.”

  At headquarters, he used the back entrance into the CID offices, which, without a major crime case going on, was deserted. In recent times police budgeting, had become more critical, so without a pressing need, overtime was kept to a minimum. Most dedicated detectives would still do it to chase a lead that couldn’t be done during the day, but often these were unpaid hours, or time given off in lieu. In Rick’s case, he sometimes worked longer hours because that was how he was; an old-school cop who pursued criminals outside the nine to five working day.

  Tyler looked up from his desk where he sat, completing a crossword from that day’s newspaper, as Rick entered the squad room. Nothing was said, but when Rick raised his eyebrows, Tyler shook his head and tilted it toward the closed door of the Senior Detective’s office. He stood as Rick approached, and together they knocked.

  “Come in, guys.”

  Rick entered with Tyler behind, but he stopped suddenly and his partner walked into his back. There sitting to the side of the DCI’s desk was Assistant Police Commissioner Darryl Monkton. His office was situated on the top floor, and he was renowned for working only nine to five hours. To see him on the Major Case Squad floor, and at night, was highly unusual. That, inferred the case Rick and Tyler had been called in for, was extremely important.

  “Sergeant, Detective, thank you for coming in at such short notice and giving up your evening. Take a seat. I’m not sure if you’ve met, Mr. Monkton,” Colin Harris began.

  They moved to two chairs on the opposite side to Monkton, but the four large men filled the small office. Rick, as protocol decreed, spoke for both officers. “Good evening, Commissioner, and sir. What’s up?”

  Rick noted the commissioner was not in full uniform, but suit and tie. He nodded at the two officers. Maybe he’s on his way to the ballet?

  “For the time being, guys—” Colin Harris shifted in his chair to sit more upright. “—you are sworn to secrecy about what we are about to show you. I want you to work exclusively on this job. You will have any help you need including manpower, but anyone you bring in will also be told in no uncertain terms that this is top secret. You will answer directly to me, and only me. If this story gets out, there will be a witch-hunt.”

  He opened a red manila folder on his desk and took out a clear plastic sleeve. Silently he slid it across to the two men. One look revealed a scene from a horror movie.

  It was a black and white Polaroid photograph. The shades of gray made the picture itself look even grimmer than it would have been in full color. Center stage was a naked woman, wrists encased in handcuffs, secured to a gray concrete wall above her head. Her long blonde wavy hair obscured her face, which was tilted toward the floor. Whether she was unconscious or forced to keep her head down couldn’t be gauged, but it made any identification of her impossible.

  “Is this all we have?” Rick asked, after scrutinizing the harrowing picture.

  “Oh, no, we have more. We have a note.” He slid across another sleeve which encased a piece of lined notepaper; the type that could have been torn from a child’s cheap school notebook.

  To Sergeant Richard McCoy

  Homicide Department.

  She is still alive, but every two days that pass, I will cut something off her and send it to you. Stop me if you can.

  Are we having fun yet?

  P.P.P.

  Rick felt his blood turn to ice water as he heard Tyler gasp. “How did we get this?”

  Colin slid a third plastic cover across the desk. It contained a cheap letter-sized envelope. “Anonymous call from a public call box telling us there was an envelope for the Homicide Department between page ninety-nine and one hundred of the phone book. The caller said it was about the Body in the Suitcase investigation. Uniform thought it was a hoax but were smart enough to preserve the scene, as best as they could, when they found the envelope. Fortunately, they got it to forensics to open.

  Rick shook his head, dumfounded. “Why address it to me?”

  “Probably because you were lead investigator on the case, and you ran the TV re-enactment for Melanie Cartwright’s disappearance at the shopping center. Our man must have seen you, there was no way he couldn’t with all the publicity,” the commissioner answered.

  “But surely we don’t know that this is the same killer?”

  “We do. Bottom right hand corner of the photograph is a perfect thumb and forefinger print. It matches the ones on the plastic sheets; he’s back.”

  ****

  There wasn’t too much more they could do that night. Forensics had checked out the phone booth and envelope already. Rick and Tyler had earlier been interviewing witnesses to a shooting, on a case, at the Yanchep National Park, and it wasn’t until the fingerprint results came in to the Inspector, that he decided to bring them back in after hours.

  The discussion between the officers went on for an hour, when behind them, the night cleaning crew arrived. A plan of attack was drawn up. They agreed that this story must not, under any circumstances, be leaked to the press. The first murder had been horrific enough, but that this man would hack pieces of the poor women slowly over time to taunt the police beggared belief. There would be mass panic and total loss of confidence in police officers, if the vitriolic media got hold of the story.

  “Sergeant, I am relying on you to make sure the media do not link these two cases if the news breaks of the abduction, is that understood?” Commissioner Monkton insisted.

  Rick nodded, seeing the logic in the argument. He glanced at Tyler and knew him well enough to know his nod affirmed his agreement too.

  The DCI leaned forward in his chair, “any interviews, must be conducted in a way that does not give away the truth, Rick. Are we clear on this?” He did not wait for a response. “Any assistance you need, anyone else who is brought into the investigation, must be told of the secrecy. One whiff of this gets out and we are all toast. I will suspend anyone caught leaking this story to the press; we cannot afford a mass panic.”

  Inwardly, Rick groaned at that decision, although he agreed in principle. He was going to have to break the rule almost immediately because he had promised Juliet he would keep her informed. If he now kept secrets, and she found out later, it would destroy what trust they had re-built.

  “Tomorrow you will both begin the investigation at the phone box, to find anyone who witnessed a man acting suspiciously. We will source phone records of all calls, and back-track it to the people who made those calls in hopes they saw the killer hanging around. There is also a slim chance he used the phone to call someone other than us to divert suspicion.”

  Rick had a feeling the killer would be far too smart for that, though he would not voice his opinion; the mood of his superiors was far too serious for him to show any negativity.

  They knew from previous cases, there wasn’t too much that could be done to enhance the quality of an instant picture, however he suggested they seek out an expert who may be able to find something to help them identify the location where she was being held. They would also take the note to a handwriting expert.

  The assistant commissioner had remained relatively quiet to that point, and Rick thought that he preferred to leave the operational side to the Detective Chief Inspector. He cleared his throat. “Sergeant, I will make a phone call in the morning and introduce you to Patricia Holmes; a senior lecturer at UWA in criminal psychology. She may be able to give some insights into the kind of person we are hunting. The FBI have a Behavioral Unit, specializing in serial killers, which Patricia has spent some time with. They are making great strides in understanding what makes these kinds of people tick.

  “Thank you, sir; that may indeed be helpful, because, let’s face it, so far we don’t have much else to go on.” What a colossal waste of time that will be, was what he thought, though he dared not voice it. />
  Colin cleared his throat to gain control again. “While you are doing that, Tyler can trawl through the missing person’s reports. We know she’s blonde, we know her build, and we can guess her height. Once you’ve found her we can consider where and how he took her. Anything we’ve missed?”

  “I have a suggestion, sir, but it’s pretty far out of left field,” Rick said.

  “Go on.”

  “Well, for some reason, he has focused on me. Why don’t I try to lure him out?”

  “How do you propose to do that?”

  “Well, I could announce publically that we are re-opening the Melanie Cartwright murder due to new evidence. We could say we have a witness that has come forward from the rubbish tip and are now pursuing a new line of inquiry as to the vehicle that was used to dump the suitcase.”

  “I don’t think I like this idea, but go on,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Well, I’m thinking on my feet here, but the witness who found the body said he saw a white Japanese van which we deliberately withheld. Suppose I ask for public assistance in finding the man who drove that van, because he never came forward. I could even give a vague one size fits all description of him. If he wants to play games, let’s play back, and try to catch him off-guard.”

  “But you don’t know that he was the murderer,” Commissioner Monkton interjected.

  “No, that’s correct, sir, but that’s the whole point. If it’s not him, the killer may contact us to gloat about how stupid we are, and if he did that, he may make a mistake. But, if it was the murderer who was driving the white van, he may worry, and try to throw us off the scent in some other way. He may want to be interviewed to clear his name, and again, he might make a mistake that allows us to catch him. My gut feeling is that unless he mucks up, we won’t find him, and this woman will die. Remember his quote: ‘Are we having fun, yet?’”

  There was silence while everyone thought that through. Eventually the DCI leaned forward and said: “The worry here is that he may panic and kill her, then go to ground.”