Depraved Difference (A Detective Shakespeare Mystery, Book #1)

by J. Robert Kennedy

  She slammed the dresser door shut, as if caught with her hand in the silk cookie jar, and quickly made her way to the entrance, her guilty heart pounding in her chest. She knew it had to be the lab tech, Frank “something”, what with two of her buddies in the hallway. She opened the door, expecting dweeb central and was pleasantly surprised at how cute he was.

  “Hi, you must be Frank,” she said, extending her hand.

  He was carrying several cases and stuck his hand out, the case it was already carrying almost falling to the floor as his eyes dropped from her face to her chest and back up. “Uh, sorry, I, ah, well, ah.”

  Dweeb it is. Oh well. “Let me give you a hand with that,” she said, taking the case instead.

  “Thanks,” he said, smiling awkwardly. “I’ll just need a few minutes and I’ll be out of your hair.”

  She followed him into the living area and placed the case on the floor. “Anything I can do to help?”

  He flipped open one of the cases then looked at her, shaking his head. “No, thanks, I’m faster when I work alone.”

  She sat down, one foot on the floor, the other up on the couch, her knee in the air, her pose a little provocative. Why not have a little fun? Frank looked at her for a moment, and dropped one of the cameras. He looked back at the case, and went about placing cameras and other equipment throughout the apartment, careful to never look in her direction. He came out of the bedroom and closed the cases.

  “All done, I guess I'll be outta here,” he said, continuing to avoid looking at her.

  Now to close the deal. She got up off the couch and stepped closer, smiling. “Would you mind hooking up the TV for me? It's gonna be incredibly boring if I have to sit here all night with no entertainment.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. “Aahh, I don't know, I'm not supposed to touch any of her stuff.”

  She could tell he just needed a little more convincing. “What did you say your name was again?”

  “Brata, Frank Brata.”

  “Oooh!” she gushed. “Aren't you the guy who got shot in the chest the other night!”

  He smiled shyly and looked at the floor. “Yeah, that was me.”

  She stepped forward and placed her hand gently on his chest, a slight pout pursed her lips. “Do your ribs still hurt?”

  “Yeah, they're still pretty tender.” Taking a step back, he looked over at the TV. “You know, I guess there's no harm in hooking this up, it'll just take me a few minutes.”

  Schoolgirl act works every time! She watched as he busied himself hooking up cables and within minutes he was true to his word.

  “You’re all set!” he said, grabbing his cases.

  She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Frankie!” He blushed as he scurried for the door. She chuckled to herself as she sat down and flicked on the TV.

  Once he’s been on a few dates, he could be a heartbreaker,

  Jeremiah pulled up to the parking garage entrance to Aynslee Kai’s apartment building and swiped the parking pass he had cloned weeks before. The garage door rose, and he drove in, parking as close to the elevators as he could. He had planned this for some time. It was relatively easy to hack the condo's computer system and find an apartment above Aynslee's undergoing renovation and therefore empty. He climbed out of the car and looked about for any of the protective detail he had seen earlier. Finding the garage empty, he removed a large duffel bag from the trunk, entered the elevator and hit the button for the twelfth floor. This is too easy! He rocked back and forth on his heels as he watched the numbers count up, bypassing all of the police there to stop him. The light flashed on the ninth floor, the floor that he knew his target lived on, and his heart skipped a beat as his imagination had him thinking it was about to stop. The tenth floor lit and he exhaled.

  On the twelfth floor, the doors opened and he poked his head out, looking in both directions. Again he was alone. He quickly headed toward the vacant apartment, and opened it with the key he had made a copy of by breaking into the super’s apartment two weeks before.

  Secure in the apartment three floors directly above his target, he threw the duffel bag in front of the balcony doors and opened it, removing a climbing harness and a length of rope. Donning the harness, he fastened the ropes to the balcony’s steel frame, then attached them to his harness. His heart pounded. He had only done this in an indoor rock-climbing park previously, never twelve stories in the air. He stepped over the balcony railing and placed his feet on the edge. Pushing off, he let some rope slip through his carabineer and he dropped like a stone, his poor technique leaving his legs swinging under the balcony of the floor below him. He let some more rope out and dropped to the tenth floor balcony railing. Seeing someone watching TV inside, he immediately let himself drop some more and purposefully overshot the ninth floor. Dangling precariously in between the eighth and ninth floor balconies, he reached up and steadied himself on the underside of Aynslee's balcony. He took a moment to catch his breath, then slowly pulled himself back up to where he had a view of the apartment from the bottom of the balcony railing.

  Holy shit!

  Janet checked the TiVo to see what a television celebrity taped when she thought she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. She threw the remote down and grabbed her gun, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Something moved! She was sure of it. Something had definitely moved out there. Walking to the windows occupying the entire outside wall, she peered out to see what had drawn her attention, but all she saw was the city skyline. Must have been a reflection on one of the buildings across the street. Turning, she sat back down on the couch and placed her weapon on the table in front of her, cursing herself for her paranoia. She kept eyeing the balcony. But I’m sure I saw something. She stood up, deciding to check the bedroom.

  Jeremiah was pissed. Staring down the barrel of a gun had at first scared the shit out of him, but when he focused on who was holding the gun, it had turned to anger. This was not Aynslee Kai. The woman did bear a striking resemblance to her, but it definitely wasn’t her. Well done, Detective! He had to admit a begrudging respect for this man who had managed to find him sooner than he had expected, and had now delayed him achieving his final goal. He gripped the edge of the balcony, frozen in place, until she finally left the window and put her gun down. He let out the breath he was holding, and took stock of his situation. He couldn’t stay, he had to move. Up wasn’t an option with her staring out the window, and he didn’t have enough rope for down.

  Then came his break. She suddenly stood up, and left the room. He furiously pulled on the Jumar ascender, reaching the next floor before she returned. He continued his ascent, and soon grasped the bottom of the twelfth floor balcony and pulled himself to safety, tumbling over the railing and onto his back, his muscles screaming in agony. He lay for a moment, gasping, then slammed his fists on the concrete, willing himself to his feet. He scrambled out of the harness and raced from the apartment. He ran to the elevator, hit the down button, then sprinted toward the stairwell at the other end of the hall.

  Janet checked the windows again, and, satisfied they were still secure, headed back into the living area. But something still bothered her. She was sure she had seen something. Her weapon still drawn, she approached the door to the balcony. Looking carefully, all she saw were the city lights spread out across the entire view. Then she saw it. Some lights twinkled. She turned the lock for the balcony door and slid it open. Peering up and around to make sure the balcony was clear, she inched toward the railing and looked over at the ground below. Something hit her arm. She jumped back and spun her weapon around but saw nothing. Suddenly it jumped out at her as clear as if it were daytime. Ropes! She rushed to the railing and leaned over backward, pointing her weapon up. The ropes dangled above her but she couldn’t tell what floor they came from. Rushing back into the apartment, she snatched the radio from the table.

  “He's here!”

  Janet's call sent everyone in the surveill
ance van into a panic. Immediately a call went out for backup as they scrambled to find out what she was talking about, none of them having seen anything. “Get in that apartment!” yelled Frank over the radio. He watched Kordas run to the door and open it for the officers stationed in the hallway. A moment later her voice came over the radio.

  “There's ropes hanging outside the balcony! It looks like he rappelled from above!”

  This new information had them rolling back the living room footage that included a view of the balcony. “There!” said Frank, pointing at the screen. For a brief instance they saw somebody drop from above then a few minutes later climb back up. Frank looked at the time index and got on the radio. “He began climbing up less than five minutes ago, he's gotta still be in the building!” They pored over the footage, desperately trying to find any sign of their suspect.

  “This is Calvin in the lobby, there's an elevator coming down from the twelfth floor, it could be him, over.”

  Jeremiah flew down the stairwell, taking the steps two and three at a time. He knew if they were on to him, the elevators would be suicide. He suspected his little diversion would keep the officer in the lobby occupied, but would it be long enough? Leaping over the stairs he rapidly made his way down, and in less than a minute, passed the ninth floor where he was sure most of the officers were stationed. He knew if he were chased it would most likely be from above, but with one cop in the lobby, and one outside, he could still be intercepted.

  Police Officer Calvin pressed the buttons to call elevators both up and down. The second elevator door opened, its up indicator lit. He reached in and sent it to the top floor, then pressed the up button again and waited, his weapon drawn and pointing at the door. The elevator stopped on the third floor then resumed its descent. “Elevator stopped on the third floor, he may have got off there, over,” radioed Calvin. His partner raced in from outside and drew his weapon as well. Calvin's heart pounded as the chime sounded and the doors opened. They were met with a scream and barking as a young woman holding a lapdog in her arms covered her face. Calvin reached in and pulled her from the elevator as his partner entered, confirming it was empty. “Was anyone else on this elevator with you, ma'am?”

  “N-no,” she stammered. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “What floor did you get on at?”

  “What?”

  “What floor!”

  “The third, the third floor!”

  “Did anyone get off at that floor?”

  “No, it was empty when I got on.”

  Calvin frowned and got on his radio. “Suspect was not in the elevator, repeat, suspect was not in the elevator. We're going to check the stairwells, you two stay where you are, he may make another attempt, over.”

  “Where's the stairwell?” he asked the still frightened woman. She pointed a shaking finger to the other side of the lobby. Turning to his partner, he said, “Okay, you cover the entrance, I'll check the stairwell.” Running toward the lobby’s far end he tore open the door and listened for footsteps. Nothing.

  Jeremiah heard the door above him open as he entered the parking garage. Wasting no time, he ran to his strategically parked car, jumped in and turned the key he had left in the ignition. The engine roared to life and he floored it, heading to the exit.

  Calvin listened intently for any sound but heard nothing at first, then a door clicked shut below him, the pneumatic hinge having finished its job. With weapon drawn, he rushed down the two flights of steps and cautiously opened the door. Peering out, he saw no one, and triggered his radio. “He might be in the parking garage, over.” He stepped into the garage and spun around with his weapon and flashlight held out in front of him. A squealing of tires to his right sent him running toward the garage exit. Grabbing his radio, he yelled, “Stop anything coming out of the parking garage!”

  Officer Parker heard the call come in but it was too late. He had already gone inside to join his partner in the parking garage when the call came in about the car. Sprinting outside he saw nothing, the perpetual traffic of the busy New York streets providing ample cover for any car that may have just exited the parking garage. His radio crackled. “Be advised, Homicide has reason to believe your suspect is in the vicinity, over.”

  Gee, ya think? “Roger that dispatch, suspect has already fled the vicinity, over.” He watched as his partner rushed from the entrance to the parking garage and looked over at him. He shrugged his shoulders, raising both hands, palms upward.

  Aynslee waited for the automatic garage door opener to finish its job. It had been over an hour, and she was in more pain than she ever remembered being in, making the garage door’s interminable descent seem even longer than it was. She heard the motor stop and Hayden turned around, looking over the seat at her. “Okay, it's safe now.” He got out of the car and opened the back door.

  “It's about time, I thought we’d never get here!” Aynslee had lost all feeling in her legs and her side ached. She took Hayden’s hand and he helped pull her out. She took a tentative step but collapsed, her legs numb. He caught her and helped her toward the door. “Thanks.” She winced as her feet began to tingle. “Oh my God, that hurts.”

  “What?”

  “I'm just starting to get some feeling back in my feet,” she said as she tried to walk, leaning heavily on Hayden. “God, I hate that feeling!” He helped her into the house and placed her on a couch in his living room. “Thanks,” she said gratefully as she gingerly placed her feet on the floor. Grimacing through the pain, she wiggled her toes and tried moving her feet around. Slowly the tingling spread upward and eventually subsided as her circulation was restored. Now only the pain in her side remained. She began stretching to try and work it out as she looked at her surroundings. It wasn’t at all what she expected. It was clearly a carefully restored older home, the furnishings and accessories matching the period. “This is a beautiful house you have, Detective.” Her stomach grumbled. Hayden smiled. “You heard that?”

  “I think the neighbors did too.”

  “Yeah, I guess I'm pretty hungry.”

  “Okay, I'll go fix us something, you wait here. The remote's on the table.” He headed toward the kitchen as she turned on the TV. She feigned interest for a couple of minutes then decided to take the opportunity to pursue her latest hobby, detectives named Hayden. Walking down the hallway she found him busy in the kitchen arranging various cold meats and cheeses on a tray. “Feeling better?” he asked.

  “Yeah, still pretty stiff but I can walk again.” Looking around she saw a quite modern kitchen that ran contrary to the remainder of the house. An antique kitchen table and chairs sitting atop an ornate oval rug at the opposite end from the cupboards was illuminated by an elaborate antique lamp hanging above. She watched as Hayden deftly sliced a tomato. “You're pretty handy in the kitchen.”

  “Well, I'm not a fan of processed foods. I guess as a kid I just learned to like the taste of fresh ingredients, so it was either learn to cook for myself or accept the blandness of boxed food.”

  “Oh, you wouldn't like my fridge then. The freezer is just a stack of microwaveable food and the fridge is leftover takeout and condiments.”

  He finished quickly and carried the tray to the kitchen table. “Grab the buns, please?” Aynslee flashed to another pair of buns she'd like to grab, but picked up the basket on the counter instead. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Red wine if you've got it. I could really use a glass.” Or three.

  “Of course,” said Hayden as he walked back to the counter. Removing a cork from an already opened bottle, he poured a glass. Returning with her wine and a glass of water for himself, he sat down and motioned to the tray. “Bon appétit!”

  Aynslee smiled and assembled a sandwich, ravenous with hunger. When the flurry of activity ended, Hayden began preparing his own as she waited politely for him to finish.

  “Please, go ahead, I know how hungry you must be.”

  “Thanks.” She took a h
uge bite, and had eaten half of her sandwich before he finished making his. She took a sip of wine and wiped her mouth with a napkin from the tray. “I'm sorry, I must disgust you, but I haven't eaten since lunch and that was only soup and a salad.”

  “No need to apologize, it's always a pleasure to see someone enjoy a meal you've prepared.” He took a large bite of the ham and Swiss sandwich he had prepared for himself.

  After devouring the rest of her sandwich, Aynslee sat back and sipped the wine. She looked over at Hayden and realized it was the first time in a week she felt truly safe. She smiled at him.

  He finished chewing his food and swallowed. “What?”

  “Oh, nothing,” she said. “Do you think your little ruse worked?”

  He nodded. “Yes, it came in over the scanner that he was at your apartment just as we got here.”

  Aynslee shivered. “Is everybody okay, that cop who's pretending to be me? Is she okay?”

  “Yes, no one got hurt but unfortunately he got away.”

  Her anxiety returned. “There's no way he could know we're here, is there?”