by Rick Murcer
CHAPTER-33
Gavin, Alex, Sophie, and Manny sat around the white deck table. The half-eaten breakfast and barely sipped coffee bore witness that Liz’s death was still heavy on their hearts.
It was early on Tuesday morning. The sun spilled rays over the deck and not a solitary cloud interrupted the hypnotic blue sky. The pleasant smell of coconut mixed with banana came from the fruit bar to their left, while festive tin drum music flowed from hidden speakers, striving to lift its listeners to no-worry mode. It was a perfect morning in paradise--except it wasn’t. Gavin wondered how it could be.
He had witnessed a thing or two during his tenure in law enforcement, ugly things. Too many times he’d knocked on the door of a slain officer’s family. And each time he’d walked away from those families swearing never again. But nothing had prepared him for the death of a close colleague, particularly that way. He was glad he didn’t have to ID the body. That was an assignment ordered for younger men like Manny and Alex. They seemed to rebound better than him, especially these days.
Manny and Alex had spent the last forty-five minutes bringing him and Sophie up to speed with what they saw in the morgue. He didn’t like what they shared, and cared even less where this thing was headed.
“Could it be Peppercorn?” Sophie asked. “I mean we put him away for ten years for those assaults, then his Doctor said he was cured and no threat to society. In fact, the warden vouched for it. But then he disappeared right after he was released, what, fifteen months ago? Like the day after.” Emotion seeped into her voice. “I know we want to talk to him about the Martin case, but we don’t even know if he was near Lansing in May, and now we’re supposed to make the leap that he could be here, on this ship? To what end?” She tasted her tea. “I’m just not buying it, I can’t.”
“I don’t know, but I have to agree with Sophie on this one. Why would he suddenly show up in the Caribbean? Furthermore, how? It’s not like the guy was returning to a lifestyle of the rich and famous,” held Gavin.
Manny put his hands on the table. “We saw what we saw. I know it seems crazy, but he is the only one we’ve seen do anything remotely close to this. Just because we couldn’t locate him to talk about Sylvia Martin’s murder doesn’t mean he’s farming peacefully in Montana. He could have been in Lansing.” Manny lifted his fork from the table. “Listen. Peppercorn used the same rose as a gift set up, except they were red, on his four victims. Whoever killed Silvia Martin left a black rose and now one shows up next to Liz’s body. What happened to…to Liz and the Martin woman, is disturbingly similar. Does anyone think that’s a coincidence?”
Manny picked at his eggs and then finished his thought. “Sophie just said it. He disappeared and hasn’t been seen since his release, the consummate white rabbit. Having said what I said, it just doesn’t figure that a man with his limited intellect could get this done.”
“He couldn’t, unless…well…unless there is something more to that whole Dissociative Identity Disorder thing than we gave credence. I mean, Peppercorn’s step-dad was no saint and what he did to him and his sister could cause serious psychological damage,” said Gavin.
Sophie sat a little straighter in her chair. “Okay, say Peppercorn really did develop a dual personality and somehow it, him, her, hell I don’t know, took over. It sounds crazy, but it wouldn’t be the first time for this kind of thing.”
“He claimed he didn’t remember attacking those girls and that we had the wrong guy. I did some research and even talked with Sylvia Martin’s husband about it once. He said it could happen, but the trauma would have to be so intense that facing it would be like putting a gun in your mouth,” Manny pointed out.
Gavin stroked his mustache as the others grew silent. No one wanted to think about a mind that had been altered that much.
Finally, Alex stopped making love to his mocha latte and broke the silence.
“I need to get a closer look at the body. The neck injuries were consistent with what we saw on Peppercorn’s victims. If it wasn’t him, it was an amazing copycat. After the Martin murder, I researched case history files in all of the law enforcement databases, including VICAP, NCIS, even INTERPOL, things we didn’t have years ago. I cross referenced murderers, rapists, kidnappers, and every other conceivable pervert trying to get a match with his particular MO and psychological profile, but I didn’t really see any on the level with what that sad prick Peppercorn did. Tearing victims up with his teeth, I mean.” Alex pushed his cup away. “It could be him.”
“He never killed before, though. He raped and disfigured those young ladies, but always stopped short of killing them,” observed Sophie.
“That’s true. But we all know the profiles of these psychos. Their games almost always escalate to more aggressive behavior and eventually killing is the only thing that gets them off,” said Manny.
Gavin raised his hand in the universal stop motion. “We’ll have plenty of time to discuss theories with the rest of the people at the nine o’clock.”
He looked around the table and exhaled. “None of you have to do this. It’s your vacation. I don’t expect you to spend it working, particularly on a cruise ship in the Caribbean. You have family here and you should be relaxing with them.”
“Relax? What are you talking about? That would be a trick now, wouldn’t it? One of our own is lying in the morgue. Her husband has disappeared, and there is some nut case who may have committed murder in Lansing and then decided to follow us down here for God knows what reason. Hell yeah, I’m all set to take it easy,” boomed Manny.
Sophie hit Manny’s arm. “Way to put a lighter slant on things, Williams.”
Everyone laughed.
Gavin knew laughter could be pure medicine, but little by little, its effect faded as realization brought a grim quiet.
They were wrestling with his words, and who could blame them. Hell, so was he. But more importantly, Liz’s death was against all his people stood for, particularly Manny. He knew their hearts before they did.
“I’m in. Barb wouldn’t want it any other way,” said Alex.
“Me too,” agreed Sophie.
“That makes three,” stated Manny.
“I’ve been out of the investigation frontlines for awhile, but I’ll do whatever I can to help,” he said, looking at each one of his crew.
An efficient, courteous busboy approached the table wearing a burgundy and gold paisley vest, flashed a wide smile, and asked if they were finished with their breakfast.
They were, except for the java.
“Now what?” asked Sophie.
“Well, I know I won’t be able to look closer at the body until at least after the meeting this morning, maybe not even then because they may not let us help with the investigation. In fact, if it’s Richardson’s call, I know we won’t be able to get involved,” stated Alex. “The next best thing would be to process Liz and Lynn’s room. But I’m sure that’s just as far out of the question.”
“Maybe not,” said Manny.
Gavin shot his best detective a look. “What do you mean? I don’t think you’re going to be able to get the supervisor to open the room again, especially now.”
Manny’s blue eyes glinted like a kid at the toy store with birthday money burning a hole in his billfold.
Reaching into the pocket of his shorts, Manny tossed a rectangular object on the table. Gavin and the other two leaned over in unison to get a better look. Liz Casnovsky’s Fun and Sun card stared up at them from the table.
“How did you pilfer that?” asked Sophie in amazement.
“I slipped it into my pocket when Louise and I were leaving the room. I thought it might come in handy.”
“You’d make a great thief,” marveled Sophie.
“Thief? More like tampering with evidence at a crime scene,” snorted Gavin.
“What crime scene? We don’t know if anything happened in there, right? Besides, Liz was our friend and she deserves better. I’ll be damned if I’m going to l
eave this up to that screw-up Richardson and his staff to handle.”
Gavin’s chin made little scratching sounds as he rubbed his stubble. He leaned toward his long-time friend, fixing Manny’s gaze to his own. He felt his best detective record his face like a video camera. He knew that even the crow’s feet resting at the corner of his eyes were etched in Manny’s brain. Just like Manny remembered everything else he chose to. He also knew that look. The one that said I’ve just read your mind so there is no use in continuing the façade.
Feeling all of his fifty-six years this morning might have weighed in on his decision, but one thing was sure, this investigation needed his people, particularly Manny.
“We’ll share anything we find with the rest of the task force, or whatever they’re calling it. But I just want to make sure they didn’t miss anything. Alex is better than anything they have and Sophie and I aren’t chopped liver either,” Manny said quietly.
Gavin nodded. “Do it quietly, and do it right.”
CHAPTER-34
The black Samsonite backpack slung loosely over his back contained everything he would need for the trip. Excitement danced through his veins. Some days were better than others and this was one of those. Nothing would disrupt what he had planned, except an act of God, and there was no God.
The big man wiped the leg of his shorts with a sinewy hand. Perspiration, cheered on by the hot, humid air surrounding Dominica, had started to build on his palms, and he didn’t like how it felt. He only wanted things in his hands that he put there, things he controlled.
Clearing his mind, he focused on his playmate for the day. He had waited months to turn the cog in this wheel, and he was going to enjoy every delicious moment. He could almost taste her.
Hiding behind dark glasses, he watched the gathering crowd of cruisers congregate on the pier in Roseau, the island’s capitol. They lived in a fantasy world, one that Carousel sold, but reality would catch up with them today. They would receive a lesson from a class they never knew existed. Death 101.
“Excuse me. Is this the line for the Rain Forest and Emerald Pool tour?”
He looked down at the portly young woman smiling like an imbecile. Her yellow-blonde hair was pulled back into a short ponytail and she was dressed in tank top, white shorts, and pink ASCIS cross trainers. A swatch of sun block crossed her wide nose.
“Yes it is. You’re right on time.”
She hesitated, but he saw the appreciation in her eyes, and there was more. She wanted to say something else, to engage him, maybe even charm him, but the woman turned away and moved to another part of the pier. Good thing for her. It wouldn’t bode well for her to remember him, his face.
The time was quickly approaching to board the red tour buses. He shifted focus to the group of indigenous tour guides, clad in pale green uniform tops and baggy shorts, as they emerged from one of the idling vehicles.
His heart skipped a beat. There she was. Rebecca Tillerman, the woman who would help him to ascend another step from Hell to glorious bliss, his magnificent heaven.
The sun shone on her light brown skin, and small trails of her bleached dreadlocks escaped from underneath her khaki cap, scaling down her shoulders. Her full breasts rippled seductively as she laughed at one of her peer’s comments. But it was just for him. The little slut wanted him to notice her, and he did. He could be far more than attentive, as she would soon discover.
Did she know today was her day? He thought maybe she did. He was sure somewhere deep down, she knew, that she felt her providence.
Rebecca boarded her thirty-passenger bus, and Jenkins followed.
“You’re a tall one, mon,” she mused.
He returned her greeting with an enchanting display of his own, but said nothing. He would introduce himself later. Like the first time with the park ranger in St. John, only better.
Hello, said the spider to the fly.
The convoy of buses finally pulled away from the cement pier and the shadow of the Ocean Duchess, heading up the mountain road toward the thriving rainforest some 3,800 feet above sea level.
Jenkins endured the thirty-minute trip in silence while the bus wound up spiraling hillsides covered with dense vegetation and orange-flowered trees. They meandered past the island’s famous Botanical Gardens, but he barely moved his head.
Rebecca spoke through the bus’s PA system and related some of the history of the island, its Caribe Indian population and their steps to almost complete extinction. She addressed some political history and the making of rum and coconut candy. Her eyes lit up when she mentioned the candy. It was her favorite. But he already knew that, didn’t he? He knew everything about her, everything.
The two green iguanas hanging from a mango tree caused passengers to ooh and ahh, but meant nothing to him. He endured even more angst when the bus stopped at one of the roadside souvenir stands.
Patience. It will all be worth the wait.
The buses finally arrived at the Dominican National Rainforest Park, releasing eager tourists on the trail that led to the rainforest and the Emerald Pool.
He exited and pretended to look for something in his bag, waiting for Rebecca to move along the hard dirt path leading to the park’s building complex. She took off, he followed, knowing she had no responsibilities for a couple hours and she was going to do what she always did.
The tour guide stopped at the last sun-beaten cabin, glanced both directions, then marched through the door reserved for employees only.
Jenkins stepped closer; his very cells enlivened as anticipation swarmed him like bees to honey. Even the fragrance of pure rain coming from the rainforest seemed to be magnified a thousand fold. His boldness had brought him to this state, and he felt everything. His mind never considered being discovered because he was who he was.
He pulled the cloth from the sealed zip-lock bag concealed in his backpack.
The bamboo rods making up the door sounded like hollow drums as he knocked. After a few seconds, the thick door swung open and he was greeted with the sweet, pungent odor of marijuana swirling in smoky trails in the room.
“Yes?”
“Hello, Ms. Tillerman. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Eli Jenkins and you’re going to be the best yet.”
CHAPTER-35
“Are you all right with this?” asked Manny, placing a hand on Sophie’s shoulder. His partner hadn’t spoken a word since they had left Gavin on the Lido Deck.
She looked up at him, then over to the CSI. Determination coated her face like fresh snow on a winter’s day. “Yeah, we need to do this. We have to find out what happened, to make sure.”
Both Manny and Alex agreed. But Manny knew what she was really driving at. She had to be absolutely positive Lynn didn’t kill his wife. No one wanted to think they were that far off the mark judging the character of another. Furthermore, how do you rip sexual intimacy with a cold-hearted killer from your soul?
They stepped from the glass-paned elevator at the sixth floor. “We’ve got an hour to get this done, so no dinking around,” said Manny.
The three Lansing cops hurried down the carpeted hall and stopped at the Casnovsky’s room. No yellow crime scene ribbon adorned the door. No ship security personnel hanging around, either. Manny knew it would attract too much attention, and Carousel wanted no part of that. But just to leave the room unattended was sloppy.
He slid the card in the door, and led Sophie and Alex in. He closed the door and stopped, taking in everything at once.
What the hell?
The ship’s CSU hadn’t processed the room. Nothing had been touched. The bathroom light was still shining and the bed was as Manny and Louise had seen it. The luggage not under the bed was stacked the way it had been the night before. Even Lynn’s wallet and cell remained in place. Liz’s phone blinked steadily in response to the messages Manny had left.
“You gotta be kidding me. Is this a joke?”
He was suddenly angry. Like when you found out your best friend had gos
siped about your most private secrets. It rose up in his chest like a volcano ready to ignite. This was unacceptable. It wasn’t fair to Liz, and for all he knew, Lynn.
“What do they think is going to happen? Are they hoping answers are just going to jump up and bite them in the ass?”
“Easy there, big fella,” soothed Sophie. “We need that slick brain of yours in full gear. You can’t afford to be pissed--at least not right now. We have to find out what happened here.”
She was right. Anger was a dead-end road and it caused mistakes, and God knew there had been enough of those already. Besides, he had to keep together for Sophie, too. Lynn was still out there and they had to find out where.
He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. Sophie and Alex were waiting for him, for what was next. He got it in motion.
“Okay this is how this goes. Don’t touch anything and don’t step on anything. I don’t want to mess with evidence. Use your eyes, and let’s see what we can see. They know that I was in here, so my prints won’t be an issue. I don’t want to explain how either of yours got here.”
“Not a problem,” said Alex. He pulled three pairs of latex gloves from his back pocket and handed Sophie and Manny each a pair. They looked at each other, then back to Alex.
“Don’t ask.” He pushed past Manny, ducking into the tiny lavatory. “I’ll take the bathroom.”
“Oh no, you don’t get off that easy,” answered Sophie. “Why do you have these, especially on a cruise, kinky boy?”
“I said don’t ask.”
“I heard you. Are you doing weird stuff to Barb? I want to know what. Come on, give it up.”
“I’m not talking, and it’s none of your business, got it?” Alex barked. He closed the door of the bathroom.
Sophie pounded on the door. “Okay. Okay. But I’ll find out. Women talk. I’ll get it out of her.”
Manny stood staring at the bathroom door, then back to Sophie.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “But I think he and latex are in love, in the Biblical way.”
