by Blake Pierce
When he was done, he slid the bucket to the wall and checked his bitten hand. The fucker had drawn blood. He might need to get a shot.
He sighed and sat back down at his desk. Ignoring the trickle of blood from his hand, he started to tear down the pictures of Alfred Lawnbrook. He crumpled them all up and tossed them into a pile next to the mop bucket. When the wall was cleared, he looked at it for a moment, smiling. He then opened up the long drawer at his worktable and took out another pile of pictures. He set them on the table, next to a roll of Scotch tape.
With his hand still dripping blood onto the table, he began to tape these new pictures up. Pictures of his next experiment—of his next victim.
CHAPTER EIGHT
As everyone filed into the conference room for the briefing, Avery realized it was the most people she had been around since Ramirez’s death. Sure, there were more people than this in the grocery store when she’d had to go from time to time, but those people were dispersed throughout the store. Here, they were all packed into one room. It felt a little claustrophobic, but much like receiving her Glock and her badge earlier in the day, it felt warmly comfortable.
O’Malley had greeted her with a handshake as he took to the front of the room. Watching him prep for the briefing made her realize just how shaken up things had become within the A1 after she had left. While O’Malley had endured his share of running things in the past, he seemed more stressed now, making her think that he had a few more cases on his plate in addition to this one.
Finley sat across from her, bordered by two officers on either side of him. There were two others in the room as well, one familiar face and a brand new one. A younger officer sat at the end of the table, a woman who was surely no older than twenty-five. She saw Avery taking mental inventory of the room and gave her a stiff little nod.
“Okay, folks,” O’Malley said from the front. “Let’s go ahead and get this out of the way first: we are graced by Detective Avery Black once again. She’s agreed to help with this case because, quite frankly, I’m starting to feel as if my hands are tied. Detective Black’s track record speaks for itself and I’m sure she’ll be a huge addition to the case. Black, do you have anything to add?”
She shook her head, eager to get on with it.
“We’re going to start from the top today,” O’Malley said. “Retracing steps, ideas, theories, everything. We all know the details, so I won’t bore us all with them. But some newer tidbits that have been basically confirmed do warrant mentioning. First and foremost, we got results back this morning, having checked the Boston area for pet store break-ins or large purchases of spiders. We’ve come up with nothing. Of course, with the accessibility of the Internet, this basically means nothing, but we can at least cross it off our list.
“We’ve interviewed the family and there are no leads at all. All we know for sure is that Alfred Lawnbrook lived a very private life. His mother has indicated that he was a bit of a germophobe and scaredy cat. Hence why he had no real friends and lived alone. Now, Detective Black, you were the most recent body out at the crime scene, having visited this morning. Do you have any details to share?”
“Nothing substantial,” Avery said. “I saw absolutely no sign of a break-in, which only backs up previous reports. It means that Lawnbrook willingly let the killer in. And if the killer indeed brought the spiders with them, it makes me wonder if the two are somehow connected. Maybe Lawnbrook was expecting a package. Perhaps the killer somehow knew this and used it to get in, bringing in the spiders rather than whatever package Lawnbrook might have been waiting on. Or maybe Lawnbrook knew the killer. Right now, it’s all just speculation.”
“And that’s what we’re here to put a stop to,” O’Malley said. “All alibis with the landlord, family, and the one friend we spoke with checks out. There’s one neighbor we need to still speak to, but they are out of the country. Which, as far as I’m concerned, is their alibi. They’ve been in Spain for eight days so far and are due back next week.”
“Someone traveling to Spain for that long but living in those dumpy apartments?” the young woman at the back of the table asked. “That doesn’t add up.”
“It doesn’t,” O’Malley agreed. “And that’s why we’ll be questioning them the moment they return.”
“Do we know how long Lawnbrook had been dead before he was discovered?”
“The coroner’s report says as much as five days, but no longer than that for sure. Now…let’s see if we can get to the bottom of this so I can stop picturing spiders every-fucking-where.”
As O’Malley doled out assignments for the day, Avery kicked back into puzzle-solving mode. Somehow or another, she thought, the killer had easy access. They had easy access and they weren’t afraid to carry around poisonous spiders. Maybe it would be prudent to speak with an entomologist or an arachnologist at length. If I can understand the spiders that were used more clearly, maybe it will uncover something about the killer.
On the heels of that, there was another thought. And this one seemed to have legs to it because when it struck her, it struck her hard. Why those spiders? To have selected such specific spiders, the killer had to have known something about the victim.
As the officers got up to head out with their tasks, the young woman from the back of the table approached Avery. She had very short black hair and dark eyes. Her eyes were beautiful, the most striking thing about her. Her skin looked remarkably pale in contrast to the dark hair.
The woman smiled in an almost embarrassing way and offered her hand.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Courtney Kellaway. I came on three weeks ago, a transfer from New York.”
Avery shook her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she said, instantly wondering if Connelly had brought her on with plans of eventually filling the hole Avery Black’s absence would leave.
“In the three weeks I’ve been here, I’ve heard nothing but amazing things about you,” Kellaway said. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise,” Avery said, getting up from her chair. Doing her best not to seem rude, she turned away from Kellaway and headed to the front of the room where O’Malley was gathering up his files.
“I’ve got full freedom on this, right?” she asked him.
O’Malley winced at her choice of words and considered his answer carefully. “Mostly, yes. Why? What’s up?”
“I know that you guys have already spoken to spider experts, but I’d like to follow up on that.”
“Arachnology,” O’Malley said with some distaste. “I didn’t even know such a thing existed until this madness. And yes, by all means, have a go at it.”
“I think I’ll reach out to the Boston Museum of Science. They’ve got that butterfly garden over there so there’s got to be an entomologist on staff, right?”
“I have no idea,” O’Malley said. “Why don’t you find out? But I’m going to ask that you do it without Finley. I need him with me for a portion of the day.”
Preferring to work alone, Avery tried her best not to seem too happy about this. Instead, she instantly took out her phone as she exited the room. She pulled up the number to the Museum of Science and started down the road for her next potential lead.
CHAPTER NINE
It took a few phone calls and transfers between different departments, but Avery managed to set up an emergency meeting with an entomologist. She’d had her hopes on an arachnologist but the museum did not have one on staff. So Avery went with what she could get and, in the end, turned out pleased…and a little creeped out.
Donald Johansson was a sixty-year-old man with a charming smile and a thick pair of glasses perched on his nose. When Avery knocked on the door of his office, he answered with a kind yet booming voice. Avery found herself walking into an office where every square inch of the walls was covered in photographs of different insects. She saw several spiders among them.
“Detective Black?” Johansson asked.
“Yes, that’s me. And thanks for
meeting with me on such short notice.”
“No problem. As you might imagine, a man with my field of expertise is typically not all that in demand. So it’s nice to feel wanted. Now…I’m told you have something of an emergency situation. Can I assume that it’s about this nasty story in the news about the man that was found dead and covered in spiders?”
“That’s the one,” Avery said. “Though, please forgive me. I understand that you’re an entomologist, not an arachnologist. Are you still knowledgeable in the area of spiders?”
“Indeed. Spiders and all other forms of arachnids,” Johansson said. “Truth be told, you’re going to be hard-pressed to find an arachnologist. However, there are some circles that lump our two areas of expertise together. As an entomologist, I know about all things related to bugs. And while spiders are not technically insects—they are arachnids—I’m pretty well trained there as well.”
“So, what can you tell me about the brown recluse and the funnel web spider? Those were the two rarest found on the scene.”
“Well, the brown recluse is actually rather common. It wouldn’t be hard to find one, though maybe tricky to gather it up and collect it unless you were trained to do so. The brown recluse is known for having a violin-shaped mark on its back. While they do bite and the bite can be painful, it is very rare that it causes death. The venom can destroy blood vessels surrounding the bite area, which can cause ulcers on the skin, but that’s about it.
“As for the funnel web spider, that’s an interesting one. They get their name from the funnel-shaped webs they create. I believe they are mostly found in Australia and South America, though there have been reports of them living in little clusters along the western coast of the US. Their bites can be quite deadly and they are especially mean-looking buggers.”
“So you’re saying the funnel web bite could have killed the victim?” Avery asked.
“Oh, for sure. As for how long it would take, I’m not certain. I’d guess no more than an hour or two if the victim was not treated promptly. Now…that is interesting, for sure. But by chance do you have a complete list of the spiders found there? Maybe I could help more if I saw it.”
“I have a list, though I doubt it’s complete.”
She pulled up the emails Finley had sent her earlier in the day and scrolled through until she got to the one about the spiders. She pulled the document up and passed her phone over to Johansson. He looked through the list, nodding here and there.
“I see a black widow listed here. They can also offer a deadly bite but most clusters of them here along the East Coast aren’t nearly as deadly as they are out west or in other countries. Still, if one bit you, you’d get pretty sick. You could die but it would take a while, I suppose. I also see wolf spiders listed. They are known for biting, but it’s not fatal. It does hurt quite badly, though. I’ve been bitten by one myself.”
He passed back her phone and while he still had that charming demeanor, Johansson was starting to look troubled.
“You look confused,” Avery said.
“No, I’m not confused, just…well, distracted, I suppose. You see…for someone in this area to get a funnel web spider, they’d have to go to great lengths to get it. And that strikes me as odd because…”
“Why?”
“Well, I’m assuming some things about the case here, but it seems strange that the killer would get this huge variety of spiders. If you’re going to torment your victim with spiders, why not just use tarantulas? They are available at most pet stores and relatively easy to care for and maintain. Not all that expensive, either.”
“So you’re saying it would take some time and dedication to collect all these different kinds of spiders?” Avery asked.
“Yes. Some of them, anyway. Not to try to scare you, but at any given time, wherever you are, there’s a chance there’s a spider of some type within fifty feet of you. Inside, outside, wherever you are. Almost all of them are harmless. But for someone to know which ones to look for and then collect them in such a way…it speaks of a highly motivated person.”
“Do you know how they might go about getting a funnel web spider?” Avery asked.
“My guess would be the Internet. There are all sorts of shady deals taking place online where people can buy and sell a variety of bugs. Of course it’s not legal—especially not when the bugs are dangerous—but it happens every day.”
Avery took note of this, once again blown away by just how many dark and seedy corners there were to the Internet. She wondered if she could get Connelly to task someone with looking into that while she carried the investigation elsewhere.
It all comes back to someone having very specific knowledge on Lawnbrook, she thought. Someone knew he was scared of spiders—maybe even a certain kind of spider—and used that to kill him. I’ve got to speak to people he knew, even if it means retracing the steps of other officers and potentially pissing them off.
Avery stood up from her chair and shook Johansson’s hand over the desk. “Thank you for your time,” she said. “This is been helpful and educational.”
And a little creepy, she thought.
When she was out of the office, she started to wonder if she maybe had more of a phobia of spiders than she realized. Because every time she had spoken about them at length, she couldn’t help but feel as if there was a family of the damned things crawling over her skin. It was a feeling she simply could not shake, even once she was back in the car and headed back to the A1.
CHAPTER TEN
When she found Connelly in his office half an hour later, he was standing by his desk while someone from Public Relations was sitting in his usual seat. He was dictating something to her and she typed it down for him. Based on what Avery heard, they were working on an update on the case to send the press.
“Sorry to bother you,” Avery said, stepping into his office. “Can I borrow you for a second, sir?”
Connelly seemed irritated to have been interrupted but said nothing. Instead, he murmured “One second” to the woman at his laptop and stepped out of the office.
He and Avery stood by the wall and something about the way he intently focused on her made her realize that he was genuinely glad to have her back. She wasn’t just some bonus prize who was here to help with this particular case. He valued her and now that he had gone without her for so long, perhaps he was more in tune to that fact.
“I was wondering who interviewed Lawnbrook’s family,” she said.
“Miles and Mackey,” he said. “They did a pretty thorough job, though came back with little to work with.”
“You mind if I pull the records and maybe speak to them myself?”
“I’d rather you didn’t. The mother was an emotional mess from what I understand. Besides, they did a good job. If I thought the family should be questioned again, I’d have assigned it out to someone.”
“What if I pose the visit as a follow-up?”
“I’d really rather you didn’t do that,” Connelly said. “It’s borderline insulting to Miles and Mackey. Besides, I don’t think—”
“If I may,” a soft voice said from behind Avery. She turned and saw the young woman from the morning briefing. Kellaway, if Avery’s memory served correct.
“What is it?” Connelly asked, this time doing a far worse job of masking his irritation.
“It’s been five days since anyone spoke to them,” Kellaway said. “After the worst of the grieving, it’s been proven that family members can be more helpful. In the heat of having just lost someone, they tend not to think clearly. Maybe it would do some good to have then interviewed again.”
Connelly looked back and forth between Avery and Courtney Kellaway. He looked as if someone had just called him a nasty name and he had no idea how to respond. Avery had to bite back a smile. She wondered if someone as fresh as Kellaway had ever dared side with someone else in such a bold way.
When Connelly’s eyes settled back on Avery, she let some of the smile slip out. She al
so gave a little shrug as if to say: Told ya. And she has a point.
“If you think there’s anything to be found,” Connelly said, looking directly at Avery now, “then yes. I’m fine with you doing whatever you want. Just don’t undermine the work of the officers that went before you in the process. Be respectful of the work they’ve already put in.”
“Of course,” Avery said.
“And since the two of you seem to be of a like mind, I want Kellaway to ride along. Let her sit in on some of that grief and see if she thinks it’s still such a great idea.”
Avery winced internally but she could tell that this news pleased Kellaway greatly; she did a very bad job of hiding her enthusiasm.
“Sir, I don’t want to seem like we’re teaming up on the family members,” Avery said. “I don’t want to intimidate them.”
This time, it was Connelly’s turn to shrug. “This might be your final case with us, right? I see it as a fine opportunity to have a bright and promising up-and-comer under your wing. Show her the ropes, how you shine, and all that. Now, if you’ll excuse me….”
With that, he turned back into his office. He made an almost theatrical show of closing the door behind him.
Avery turned back to Kellaway, hoping that her annoyance wasn’t showing on her face. She actually respected the hell out of the woman for daring to speak so boldly to Connelly. She figured she may as well give her a chance.
“Kellaway, right?” Avery said.
“Yes.”
“Can you go pull the records for Alfred Lawnbrook’s next of kin? There should be some sort of report from Officer Miles or Mackey with it. Bring them to my offi—Finley’s office—as soon as you can get them and we’ll head out.”
“Sure thing,” Kellaway said. “And hey…sorry you got stuck with me. I was just trying to help.”
