Jack Ryder Mystery Series: Vol 4-6

by Willow Rose

  I parked and rushed into the lobby, where Commissioner Maycock was standing, flirting with the receptionist. When he saw me, he straightened up and forgot about her.

  "Detective," he said and approached me.

  "What's going on?" I asked, still frightened half to death. "Has something happened?"

  Maycock became serious, then nodded. "I am afraid so."

  Oh, dear God!

  "There has been another one," he said.

  "Another one?" I asked, still thinking it was about Emily.

  "Another girl gone missing," Maycock said, pulling me aside so the receptionist wouldn't listen in on our conversation. "American."

  Relieved that it had nothing to do with Emily, I exhaled, but then the seriousness of the situation sunk in, and I looked at the man in front of me. For the first time, I sensed he too was feeling helpless.

  "We need your assistance, Detective," he said. "We want this to stop."

  I nodded pensively. "I will help you, but I have a couple of conditions."

  Maycock nodded. "Anything."

  "First of all, you let the boy go. Jamie Davis had nothing to do with the murder of Nancy Elkington. He's nothing but a young boy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He's still just a suspect, so it should be easy to simply let him go home."

  Maycock thought about it for a few seconds.

  "I'll deal with the Elkingtons," I added, knowing that was probably his biggest concern. He liked being able to tell the relatives that he had solved the case. It was less fun to have to tell them he was wrong.

  "Okay," Maycock said.

  "Good. Also, I need access to all your files, autopsy reports, toxicology reports, medical examiner's reports, and so on. Everything you have. No questions asked."

  "Naturally."

  "Good. Now, the thing is, I have very good reason to believe there is a connection between the killings of Nancy Elkington and Ella Maria Chauncey and the three girls that the gardener Juan Garcia is in prison for murdering. I can't prove anything yet, but I want to work on this theory. You have a serial killer on the loose, and I believe that killer is connected to Lyford Cay."

  I waited for Maycock's reaction before continuing. I knew the neighborhood was a no-go in his world; it was untouchable, but I was determined to change that.

  "What I need is full access," I said. "To the neighborhood. I need to be able to come and go as I please. No more lists. No more alerting people before I arrive. I drive up to the gate, and they let me in without questions."

  Maycock looked like I had told him I wanted to marry his daughter and take her to the moon.

  "Now…that is…"

  "Those are my terms," I said. "They are not negotiable. I am the one with experience in catching serial killers, and this is the way I can do it. This guy is accelerating right now; he's on a killing spree, and we need to stop him."

  "But…Lyford Cay?"

  I nodded. "Yes, Lyford Cay. Full access. Whenever I want."

  The commissioner swallowed and looked at me with wide eyes, sweat springing from his upper lip.

  "All right. But we keep this between you and me. No one else can know we're looking at a serial killer. It's bad for tourism."

  I chuckled, then placed a hand on the man's broad shoulder.

  "You've got that part right. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go get my daughter. We have a killer to catch."

  Part IV

  Chapter 52

  Nassau, Bahamas, October 2018

  They sent over a guy with all the information on the girl who had gone missing, and I read through the missing person's report with Emily.

  "Her name is Coraline Stuart, age nineteen," I said. "Picture fits the profile. Blonde and American. Worked as a waitress at Lyford Cay Clubhouse, where she was last seen two nights ago as she was getting dressed for a date. Her co-worker, Meghan, saw her in the dressing room and spoke to her."

  "Again, we're back to that place," Emily said. "Everything seems to circle around that neighborhood."

  "Sure does," I said.

  "Who reported the girl missing?"

  "Her mother sprang a surprise visit on her two nights ago, flying in with her millionaire husband. They hadn't seen each other for a year, and the mother thought it was about time. She tried to call her once she landed at Nassau Airport, then grabbed a taxi to her apartment, where she found she wasn't home. The mother then called the friend, Meghan, and she told her that Coraline was going on a date with a guy. So, the mother found the spare key that her daughter always kept under the mat outside because she always forgot her keys, so she let herself in. When the daughter didn't come home all night, she grew worried. She tried calling her again and again all day long, and someone did pick up suddenly. But it wasn't her daughter on the other end; it was another worker at the clubhouse who had found her phone in the trash can. He also found Coraline's purse in there, and that was when the mother became worried. She went to the police and filed a report."

  I looked up. "And since they’ve just had another girl go missing and turn up dead, they took it very seriously, which is good. Usually, they would have told her to wait and see if the girl showed up on her own."

  "So, the Royal Bahamian Police Force did some good police work for once," Emily said.

  "I should say so," I said, "and it will be to our advantage. The earlier we react, the faster we can find her, hopefully still alive."

  "I can't stop thinking about the guy she was dating," Emily said. "It's been a theme in several of the cases, hasn't it? That she was meeting up with someone on the night she disappeared?"

  I nodded. "Yes. Except Nancy. We don't know if she met up with someone maybe secretly or met her killer randomly. And Ella was with Henry."

  "True. Oh, wait, I forgot…there was another thing," Emily said. "I noticed it when you were gone, and I read through the reports. Annie Turner was last seen with Mr. Sakislov and his friends, right?"

  "Uh-huh."

  "Well, I read through Jill Carrigan's report."

  "The one who met someone at a bar and went home with him? But her friends were too drunk to be able to ID him?"

  "Yes, there was one witness at the bar who said she saw them leave in a Rolls Royce. She said she remembered it well because that is a very rare car around here."

  I nodded, thinking I had always dreamt of driving one of those.

  "Okay, and?"

  "Well, I looked it up, and guess who owns a Rolls Royce like that…?"

  I looked at her, not very surprised.

  "Sakislov?"

  "Bingo."

  Chapter 53

  Bahamas, May 1984

  "You're hurting me."

  Dylan squirmed and pulled away from the girl. She stared at his armpit where she had been scrubbing and at the blood oozing from the small blisters and scratches. His big eyes stared at her, and as she looked into them, they reminded her of his mother. Again, she saw that face who had beaten her with the grater until she fainted, who had beaten Carla, and who had killed Gabrielle. Again, she heard that scraping sound of Gabrielle's nails against the metal door. And again, she noticed the metallic taste of anger in her mouth. Everything about him disgusted her.

  "You filthy animal!" he yelled.

  The girl stared at the boy, so pale, so fragile, with most of his body sunk into the water. She felt such hatred at that moment, such deep anger, she grabbed him and pressed his head down. Her hand pressed harder, and the boy slid under the surface of the water. His body squirmed, his arms and legs flailing as he fought underneath the surface. She held him down, pressed his head under the water and made it stay there, being older and much bigger than he was. Dylan's eyes looked back up at her as she held him down.

  And then she smiled at him.

  After a while, his arms and legs stopped moving, and now they were just floating aimlessly in the water. The girl felt a great calm spread throughout her body, a peacefulness unlike any she had ever experienced. Like all the screamin
g voices, all the scraping sounds were silenced all at once.

  She felt happy.

  The girl tilted her head and stared at the lifeless body underneath the rippling surface and placed her head on the edge of the cold bathtub, staring down at Dylan, who now lay completely still. The girl put her fingers in the water and ran them across the surface. She liked watching Dylan in the water. She liked looking at those lifeless eyes staring back up at her.

  The girl sat in silence until she heard footsteps coming from outside the door. Realizing what she had done, she reached down into the water, almost panicking, and pulled Dylan up. The door soon opened, and Carla stormed inside. She took one look at the lifeless Dylan in the girl's arms, then rushed to them and pulled him forcefully away from the girl.

  "H-he fell," the girl said, but she could see in Carla's eyes that she didn’t believe her.

  Carla placed Dylan on his back on the tiles and blew air into his lungs. She then pressed on his chest, whimpering and calling his name.

  "Please, Dylan, Please."

  Even though nothing happened, Carla didn't give up. Frantically, she continued to try and blow life into the boy.

  "Come on, Dylan, wake up," she said and slapped his face, hard. Then she turned her strained face and looked at the girl. "Do you know what you’ve done? She's gonna kill us; do you realize that? The White Lady is going to kill us!"

  The girl swallowed but, to her surprise, she felt no remorse; she felt no regret. She stared at the lifeless boy in Carla's hands in fascination and awe.

  Finally, on Carla's third try, Dylan coughed, and water spurted out of his mouth. Carla breathed a sigh of relief. While Dylan came to himself, she scolded the girl.

  "Don't you ever do anything like that again, you hear me?"

  Then she turned to look at the boy.

  "It was an accident; you hear me? It was nothing but an accident! Don't you dare tell your mother otherwise."

  Dylan nodded while coughing again.

  "W-what happened?" he asked, looking confused.

  Carla sighed in relief once again. "You don't remember. That's good. That's very good. Now, let's never talk about this again, okay?"

  As Carla spoke, the girl stared at the boy. Their eyes locked for just a few seconds and, by the look in his, and the smile that went with it, she knew that he remembered what she had done.

  He remembered very well indeed.

  Chapter 54

  Bahamas, October 2018

  Coraline panted and strained to crawl up into the duct. She could barely fit and thanked God she hadn't inherited her mother's wide hips. At least not yet, even though the past month's weight gain did point in the wrong direction. When growing up, she had always dreaded that she would one day get her mother's figure and her mother had told her she might, once she had children. Since then, Coraline had been exercising regularly to keep those hips at bay and tried her best to keep fit so she never would. She had even promised herself that after she had the three children she dreamt of having one day, she would make sure to exercise so she didn't end up like her mother.

  Gosh, how I miss her.

  Coraline was overwhelmed by sadness when thinking about her mother and how badly she wanted to see her again, how she wanted her to take her into her arms and just hold her there, to protect her from all this evil.

  How did I get myself into this mess? How did it come to this? How could I have been this stupid?

  She also thought about how silly she had been for being so angry with her because she wanted to live her life, because she wanted to travel and remarry. Coraline's dad had treated her terribly in the divorce, not wanting to give her any money and almost rubbing it in her face how wealthy he was when she wasn't. Why wouldn't she grab the opportunity when it presented itself? Why shouldn't she? Coraline just wanted her to be happy, she realized, and if that was what it took, then so be it. She had just been selfish and wanted her mother to be available for her when she needed her, not thinking that her mother might have needs of her own to think about.

  I am sorry, Mama.

  Coraline managed to squeeze herself into the small hole and crawl forward. It was dark inside the duct and Coraline had never been good with tight spaces. She whimpered as she pulled herself forward into the darkness, dust and dirt getting inside her nostrils and touching her fingers.

  She slid her body through the darkness, feeling so dirty she wanted to scream, not knowing where she would end up. Coraline continued till she saw light, then rushed to reach another end, kicked the covering open, and slid out. She fell to the tiles and hurt her shoulder in the fall. A scream of pain slipped out, even though she was trying her hardest to hold it back.

  She lay still for a few seconds, listening. She pondered if she could hear any footsteps or voices approaching. There seemed to be nothing but the sound of a grandfather clock leaning against the wall, tick-tocking away, telling her that time was passing, and she needed to hurry.

  Coraline looked around. The stone walls were covered with wooden shelves holding bottles of wine from top to bottom. In the middle stood an old slap-wood dining table and at the end of that table was something that made Coraline sick to her stomach.

  An old skeleton was sitting in the chair. Coraline approached it, shivering in fear. On the table in front of the skeleton was a jar with something in it. Coraline walked closer to see better, and when she saw the cut-out tongue inside the liquid, she turned around and threw up bile on the brown Spanish tiles.

  Chapter 55

  Lyford Cay, Bahamas, October 2018

  "You told the police she was going out with someone, a man. Do you know who he is?"

  Meghan Williams sniffled. Her eyes were red from crying. Emily and I had found her at the clubhouse at Lyford Cay. The commissioner had kept his word to me, and I had been able to get right in without being on any list or even stating my business in the neighborhood.

  Meghan shook her head. "I…I just know she had been seeing him for a while. She never told me who he was."

  "But you also stated that you warned her against him," Emily said and walked closer. She had been keeping her distance, staying out of my talk with the girl, just like we had agreed. But now she was breaking our agreement, and I sent her a look. Emily ignored it.

  "You must have believed he was dangerous or at least not good for her?" she continued.

  She was making a good point; no, make that a great one actually, and the question was spot-on, but I still would have preferred that she hadn't meddled. I was the only one who was a detective here, and she was, after all, just a young girl with no authority. Luckily, Meghan didn't question her presence.

  "I knew he wasn't good for her," she said. "That's all."

  "How did you know if you don't know who he is?" Emily asked, coming closer to Meghan, who was sitting on a bench in the dressing room, where another co-worker had found Coraline's phone and purse. Emily sat next to her while waiting for her response.

  "I…I…saw him…" Meghan said. "Once. He was picking her up in his car. I don't want any trouble," she then said, looking around nervously.

  "I think you'll be in bigger trouble if you don't tell us," Emily said. "This guy might be a killer, and if he knows that you know who he is, he’ll come after you next."

  I stared at my daughter. She was right, but I thought it was a little harsh. Still, it worked. Meghan looked at her with a frightened look on her face.

  "Listen," I took over. "All we need is a name. Then you're off the hook."

  She shook her head again and looked down. "I…can't."

  "Because he's a regular here?" I asked.

  She nodded, her head still bent.

  "How about we just say a name," Emily said, "and then you nod if it’s him? Would that work?"

  Meghan sniffled, then looked up.

  "He'll never know it was you, and technically, you won't actually have said anything," she said.

  Meghan nodded. "Okay."

  Emily gave me a loo
k like she wanted me to take over. I approached Meghan and knelt in front of her. Her hands were shaking as she wiped her nose with the tissue.

  I exhaled. "We think it might have been Sergei Sakislov…are we right?"

  Meghan sniffled and looked at Emily, then back at me.

  Then, she nodded.

  Chapter 56

  Bahamas, October 2018

  The person was standing in the doorway. The door in the wall was opening slowly, as usual, sliding to the side, revealing the existence of the room that you wouldn't know was there.

  In his hands, he was holding the equipment. The bag with the ink, the needles, and the butcher's knife, barely cold after the last victim.

  The person chuckled as he entered the room and looked around, his eyes searching for the girl.

  "Where are you, little girl?" he said as the door closed behind him at the touch of his hand on the stone.

  "Are you hiding, huh? Well, two can play that game."

  The person put the bag down with a chuckle. This girl wasn't the first to try and hide from him. A lot of them had done the same. He couldn't blame them. At first, they thought they could escape, but as they realized there were no doors or windows, that's when they panicked and usually tried to hide. But the person knew all the hiding spots in the room, so it wasn't a game that would go on for very long.

  "Ready or not, here I come," he said, chuckling.

  The person walked to the couch and looked behind it, remembering that was where he had found the first girl he had taken down there. She had been all curled up against the wall, covering her head with her arms, whimpering. It was her whimpering that had led him to her immediately.

  The person grabbed the couch and pulled it away from the wall with a loud roar.

  "GOTCHA!"

  But the girl wasn't there. Of course, she wasn't. The person shivered in delight. He liked this little game. It made it all a little more exciting. He liked it when the girls didn't give up, when they fought for their lives a little. It made it more fun. The ones that gave in quickly were boring, and he would usually finish with them pretty quickly. It just didn't give him the same kick. Luckily, most of the girls he had gotten over the years were feisty.