by Amy Shannon
Jake took the folder from his hand, “Thanks,” then he looked around the room, something he didn’t notice before, but did now. The walls were covered with crime scene photos, photos of evidence, and pictures of the dead torsos. “Oh, is this your office?”
“My office is this entire lab. Cubicles and smaller labs take up most of the floor. This is the largest room I have to work from, when I’ve got this many cases, and they’re all related.”
“Do you mind?” Jake pointed to the wall.
“Nah, go ahead.”
Jake carefully set his Stetson on the table and placed his go-bag next to it, and then walked slowly along the walls, looking at each of the murder scenes. “You mind if I write down a few notes? I won’t take photos or anything.”
“You can if you want. I know you’re working on your own case, but anything I can help you with, let me know.”
Jake took his stenopad out of his go-bag, along with his Nikon. He reached into his shirt pocket, and pulled out his gold pen. He wrote down some notes, including the names of the six victims, and then used the camera to take photos of the photos and notes on the wall. He looked at Todd. “I can make a few calls and see if you can get help. I’m sorry, I was under the impression that there were other shifts with lab techs.”
“It’s OK. I’m on call for all fieldwork. Like I said, there are some techs here in the lab, and there’s one that works all night, but he only goes in the field if I need an assistant, to take photos or number evidence. That’s it. The techs have a degree in criminalistics, but not the experience to do field work,” Masters explained. “Technology crimes or evidence needs to be sent to the FBI lab in Virginia.”
“I’ll make a call. With these crimes piling up, I’m sure you’re getting burnt out,” he sighed, putting his notebook and camera back into his go-bag. “I promise. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks,” Masters said. “Mr. Dalton, do you have any suspects?”
“A few, but one that stands out the most. Why? Do you know somethin’ that points to a direct suspect?”
He opened a folder. “These purple fliers were at each crime scene. I don’t know what they mean. I thought at first it was trash, but I collect everything, even things that look like trash,” he pointed to the photo of the crumpled up paper.
“Don’t tell me, a flier for some psychiatrist office?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?” he sighed. “I ran a check on the address, especially after we found that body this morning. It’s the address of the boarded up clinic. I didn’t think of it at the time because we were processing the alley behind the clinic, but it’s the address. Ten Forty-three Addison Boulevard. That road is pretty out of the way from Main Street, but it does bend around toward Route 55 that leads outta town, in either direction. North to Lorentown and west to Camden.”
“Thanks, did you tell the detectives?”
“Yes, they have my reports. I’ve got the evidence from this morning to process.”
“If I were you, I’d highlight the purple paper and bring it to the detective’s attention. Also, see if you can get prints off it.”
“I’m going through all of the paper again, and iodine fuming them.”
“Good. Thanks for the info. I appreciate it. I best be goin’. I’m expected downstairs,” he picked up his bag, and flung it over his shoulder. He grabbed his Stetson, and carried it in his hands. “I can see myself out.”
“See you soon,” Masters said, standing in the doorway as Jake headed out of the lab.
Jake took the elevator to the basement floor, and the doors opened. He stepped out and headed toward Aggie’s office. He knocked on the door, but then turned around to her footsteps behind him. “Doc,” he smiled.
“I’ve been pretty busy today. I just got done with the torso. The tox reports came in, but I haven’t looked at them yet. Care to join me in my office?”
“Uh, sure. I was upstairs with Masters. He needs help. I didn’t realize it was just him up there,” he followed her into her office.
She walked over to the counter and grabbed the pot. “Coffee?”
“Uh, sure,” he said, setting his Stetson on the chair next to the desk, and his go-bag on the floor.
“He has techs, right? A bunch of them?”
“I guess not all have his qualifications. He needs help.”
She poured them both a cup of coffee, and handed Jake his cup. “I didn’t realize. I would offer to help, but I’m swamped myself. Six damned dead torsos. All keeping me busy.”
“You heard from him, didn’t you?” Jake asked.
“No,” she sighed, staring into her coffee cup. “Uh huh, just a note, or two, or four,” she walked over to her desk and opened a drawer. She pulled out a large envelope. “Four. I put them in here,” she handed the envelope to Jake. “Take them, do what you want with them, I just want him to leave me alone. I wish he’d just friggin’ take me and then it can be over!” Tears streamed down her face.
Jake dropped the envelope in his go-bag and walked over to Aggie. He kneeled down in front of her and put his hands on her hands. “No way. I’m not losing you to some psycho. I’m not losing you, OK? I’ve got a plan, and we’re gonna get him. I promise.”
Aggie wiped her eyes. “Jake, don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I never do,” he said. “I’ll take care of this for you.”
“You said you had a plan?”
“Yes, I reckon I know exactly what to do, but I want you some where safe. I want you to stay at my home for a few days, at least ‘til this is over.”
“You only have one bedroom, right? I’m not sleeping on that sofa you got. It’s good to sit on, but not to sleep on.”
“Doc, you can take my room. I’ll sleep on the floor. No big deal. I just want you safe.”
Aggie shook her head. “For one, he killed Ted Abrams and left him in your backyard. That’s not really safe. If he catches me, I don’t think he’ll leave me anywhere, and you’ll never find me. I’m not running away from him. If you want me to be safe, then you stay at my place. I’ve got extra rooms. I know you have your schedule or whatever, but I’m not leaving my home, either.”
“I want you safe, and what I plan on doing is following him, and this time, I won’t lose him. The other night, he left a package on your porch, but I took it. I won’t lose him this time, I promise. I just wanted you away from your home, in case.”
“It doesn’t matter where he is or where he goes, he always comes to my home, in some way or another. Do what you haveta do. Just keep in contact with me, OK? I’ll do what you asked before. I set the alarm, I videotaped the outside of my home for evidence. I’ve got four tapes from the past few nights. I didn’t look at them, but maybe they will help, too.”
“I’ll pick them up tonight, after work,” he stood up and then leaned down and kissed her cheek. He sat on the desk in front of her. “There is somethin’ I wanted to ask you. Well, I wanted to tell you. I ran a background check on you, not to get information about your past or whatever, but to see if you had any connection to New Mexico, Louisiana, or Arkansas. I didn’t look at the information sent back to me. I felt strange about askin’. I didn’t wanna invade your privacy. Then I realized that I needed to ask, and I didn’t want to read it in a file. That felt more like an invasion of your privacy.”
“Oh,” she sighed. “My sister, Judith, lives in New Orleans, and I stayed with her for about two months before I came here. Arkansas? Hmm, I was passing through Arkansas before I came here. I said I went the long way here. I wasn’t kidding. Arkansas, I didn’t live there, but I stayed a few nights in a hotel or somethin’. I drove from Austin to New Orleans, and then drove through Louisiana to Arkansas, and then finally here. I had made some inquiries about jobs available. I went to a conference, and met Nels and Robin. Robin was retiring because of his injury, and they hired me. When I got here, I had to meet with the County commissioner but that was just part of their protocol.”
&nb
sp; “What about New Mexico?”
“I don’t think so,” she sighed. “Oh, wait, yes that’s where the conference was. I forgot. It was a medical conference in Hobbs. There was some big convention. A lot of doctors from across the country,” she stopped. “Why?”
“Icarus killed in those states. We thought there might have been a cooling off period, but no. There were three girls from different cities in those states. Hobbs, New Mexico was the last place hit before he started up here.”
“He killed in New Orleans?”
“No, Baton Rouge. And in Arkansas, he killed in Magnolia. There was about a 2-year break, though. Not sure why.”
“Maybe he was getting settled in here, you know, figured out I was staying here and not passing through, so he had to get settled as well. I’m still unpacking, and making my home my own. How long did it take you to settle in?”
“Quite a while. I stayed in a room above the diner while my home and office were being renovated. That took about six months. But I got my routine down, and did some research about the area, you know, local towns, businesses, where to go when I needed things. I also kept in touch with old friends, and tried to focus on my new life. I took on some small cases before my office was even an office. I had them do the front room first, and I worked off of crates and between plastic sheeting.”
“Tell me what you know about my stalker, uh, you said his name was Arlo Robinson.”
“I don’t have the proof yet, but I will get it. He’s from here, originally, but moved. I’ve all of his information at the agency. Doc, he’s a nobody who’s focused on you. He does act like he’s dating you, or that’s what he makes it out to be with his co-workers. You know, act like you two are a couple, but without saying it. I know where he lives and I’ve got his work schedule. I’ve got a few other things to figure out before I can do an action plan, but I start tailing him tonight, starting with where I know he’ll be.”
“Where’s that?”
“Around eleven is when he usually stares at your home. I know where he’ll be, and how he’ll go home. Don’t worry. I swear, I won’t let him hurt you.”
“I believe you,” she stood up. “Oh, I better get back to work.”
“Mind if I hear the results of the tox reports? Unless ..,” he stood up and moved to the other side of her desk.
“No, it’s fine, take notes, if you want,” she smiled. “And have another cup of coffee.”
“Thanks,” he walked over to the counter and poured them both a fresh cup, and then handed her cup to her. “This will be over soon.”
“I hope so,” she took a sip of her coffee.
Jake sat down in the chair next to his Stetson. “So, is there anything in common?”
She opened the purple file folder on her desk. “All six victims had high levels of Ketamine in their systems. So, they were drugged. I figured that.”
“Anything else?”
“Hmm,” she ran her finger down the page, reviewing the report. “Morphine and Adrenaline,” she slapped her forehead. “Crap. I missed it. Damn it.”
“What? What did you miss?”
“I haveta review the torsos again,” she stood up quickly. “Jake, remember what you said about the boiling water lobotomies?”
“Right, but we can’t confirm unless we find the heads, right?”
“Well, I checked with Jenna Matthews’ head to see, but because she was disabled, there was no signs of the water in the spinal fluid. But, she did have Ketamine and Morphine in her system.”
“But not Adrenaline?”
“No, and I’m guessing ..,” she tried to slow her words down. “I’m only guessing here.”
“Tell me,” Jake said. “What is it?”
“I reckon this guy is resuscitating them, using adrenaline, and maybe even a defribullator. Maybe they die too soon because of the lobotomy.”
“And you said you missed somethin’?”
“Maybe the stab wounds covered up the marks from the defribullator pads. I don’t know if he’s using paddles like they use in the hospital, or the stick on pads, like they use in public buildings, you know, the first aid areas.”
“Would this guy need medical knowledge of how to use this stuff?”
“Anyone can be trained on the defribullator, especially if they work at a hospital or take a course with the Red Cross. Now, for adrenaline, they would haveta know how to use it and where to inject it. This guy could’ve taken a nurses’ aid course or have some medical background. Does your guy fit this?”
“I haveta read his file again, and look for any training he may have taken.”
“Jake, he could also find this stuff on the Internet,” she sighed.
“Uh huh, but now, we are getting a bigger and better picture of this Icarus.”
“I’m sorry about this whole mess. I don’t even know why he has this thing for me.”
“I don’t either, not that you’re not beautiful and smart, but it’s not about being attractive. It’s obsession. It’s a line that he crossed into murder. He may have had murderous tendencies before he became obsessed with you. He may have been obsessed with someone else and she could be one of his victims. It’s hard to tell, since he moved on to you, and it’s been at least eight years,” he stood up. “Doc, I better get back to the office. Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine. Just catch him. Do you wanna grab supper before you start tailing him?”
“I’ll bring supper to your house, how’s that? And then, I’ll leave when he leaves,” Jake smiled. “If that’s all right.”
Aggie stood up. “Find him, please,” she walked over and hugged him tightly, as he wrapped his arms around her.
He breathed in the light scent of her vanilla shampoo that emitted from her hair, and kissed her forehead. “I promise, Doc,” he gazed into her eyes. “I’ll see you tonight, around six.”
“Six,” she smiled. “I’ll be there.”
22
Jake leaned back in his chair, when Ralph walked out of the storage room. “You find somethin’?”
“I’ve got backgrounds on the other names on the list.”
“Anything jump out at ya?” Jake placed a cigar on his bottom lip and lit the cigar. He took a short puff, and released the smoke.
“Looks like normal guys. Most of them lived here all their lives, and never left the state.”
“All right. I got somethin’ else for you to do,” he sighed. “More background, but on the victims.”
Ralph grabbed his stenopad off his desk and sat down in the chair in front of Jake’s desk. “Sir, what’re the names?”
“I’ll give you names, ages and occupation. The occupation is important but I also wanna know if there are other connections besides where they work and what they did for a living.
“Martha Henning, 26 years old. Registered nurse. Edwina Forrester, 24 years old. Registered nurse. Callie Margowitz, 25 years old, License Practical nurse. Theodore Abrams, 67 years old, retired Texas Ranger. Jenna Matthews, 25 years old, Hospital Translator. Tina-Mary Lipton, 24 years old, Doctor of Obstetrics.” Jake took a puff of his cigar, and lowered it from his mouth. He blew out the smoke with his next exhale. “Any little thing is important, I don’t care if they all shop at the local pharmacy.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll get right on this. Is there anything else?”
“Not right now. I’ve got some reading to do,” he opened the folder on Arlo Robinson. He pressed his cigar out in the ashtray stand. He leaned forward, his elbows on the desk, and read the entire contents of the 20 pages of content on Arlo Robinson. He grabbed his pen from his pocket and took some notes, listing out the timeline of his travels, and his daily schedule. His life. Brennan was thorough, he thought. He followed instructions and took it to the next level. He hoped that he would do the same with the victims.
He sat back and reviewed his notes, adopted child of single mother. No parents of record, was abandoned as a baby. In foster care until he was 10, bounced from foster home to
foster home. Juvenile record of harming animals and setting fires. Trouble in middle and high school for following and bothering school nurse and nursing assistants. Psychiatric care. Dr. Edmund Jones. Moved back to Clarksville last year. Goddammit. A serial killer in the making, but there has to be more.
Jake stood up and poured himself another mug of coffee, and then walked over to the map of Clarksville. He walked back over to his go-bag and took out the folder that Masters gave him. He adjusted the red pins to indicate where the bodies were placed. He looked at the list of the locations of the dumpsites. “Alleys. All alleys. What else?” he whispered to himself, as he thumbed through the crime scene sketches. “Rubbish bins? No, not just rubbish bins, recycling bins. Rubbish and recycling,” he wrote down some notes on his note pad, as he talked to himself, trying to see what was relevant and what wasn’t. And those purple fliers. The one that Sully took. “Brennan!” he called.
Ralph hurried out of the storage room. “Sir, what’s wrong?”
“Remember that flier, the purple one, somethin’ about head transplants?”
“Yes, sir, I think Mr. Sullivan took it with him. I remember him putting it in his pocket.”
“We don’t happen to have another one of those, do we? I mean, do we get those exact fliers or somethin’ similar? I reckon it was for a psychiatric office or somethin’.”
“I save all the fliers, as you instructed. When you finish looking through the ones on your desk, I put the others in the recycling bin. I don’t put it out ‘til it’s full. There may be some in there. Do you want them?”
“Yes, any purple flier, and any flier that has to do with the psychiatric office, listed as uh ..,” he flipped through his notes. “The address listed as ten forty-three Addison Boulevard. I forgot the name it lists as, but anything. It’s more important than the background checks right now.”
“I’ll get right on it,” he rushed into the storage room, and returned with the gray plastic box with a green recycling symbol on it. He set the box on the cleared area of his desk, and started going through the papers of occupancy fliers.
