Caribbean Moon

by Rick Murcer

  He followed the Captain to the door. This time, Josh hated being right.

  CHAPTER-47

  The last vestige of a normal vacation was hopelessly obliterated, at least for Manny Williams. The faces of the killer’s victims coursed through his thoughts like runaway trucks, and he would see them everywhere until this was over.

  He ran his hand through his hair. They had to stop him, now.

  Everyone was seated in the conference room except Corner and the Captain. An uneasy feeling tapped Manny on the shoulder. Detective Perez was late too, but Sophie said that the San Juan cop was going to bring her superiors up to date and that could take awhile. Sophie guessed Perez would be here soon. But where were the other two?

  This was off. He felt it, and lately, his feelings were far too accurate for comfort.

  “I’m sure they’ll be here shortly,” announced Agent Tucker, like he had been reading Manny’s mind. “I gave Corner the forensics material from the room and the ticket stub that Sophie found. He had to make sure they were going to be delivered appropriately.”

  The door swung open and the Captain and Agent Corner stepped into the tension-riddled meeting room. Manny took one look at the two men and his angst shot to the stars. Corner’s drawn expression circled the chamber while Serafini stared at the table top. It didn’t take a genius to figure this one out.

  “He’s killed again, hasn’t he?” asked Manny.

  Without speaking, Corner sent a manila file sliding along the table to Manny’s waiting hands. He opened it and his heart rolled to his feet. The all too familiar scene in the God-awful pictures was as unnerving as a clown to a two-year-old.

  “Damn it,” he whispered.

  “At 4:45 today we received notice from the local authorities that this unsub had killed again. The victim was Rebecca Tillerman, a young tour guide whose body was found behind the employee’s lounge at the National Rainforest Park.” Corner spoke in a tight, professional tone. There was a hint of a soft, southern drawl that Manny hadn’t noticed before. Maybe Georgia or South Carolina. It seemed you really couldn’t take the country out of the boy. He wondered if Corner had ever seen anything like this back home.

  “We had to wrangle with the Dominican government to let the cruise continue. They wanted to hold us here until we gave them the killer. Luckily, we were able to convince them that the best chance of catching this creep was to keep things as close to normal as possible. To stay in port any longer, no matter what excuse we concocted, would have caused concern with the rest of the passengers, maybe even a shade of panic. It could even give the unsub a reason to suspect he was the reason for the delay.”

  “Not to mention the economic impact it would have on the island if Carousel were to discontinue docking in Dominica, right?” queried Manny.

  “It came up,” stated the Captain with a stoic, half-smile.

  Corner rubbed his stubble and continued. “They are going to send us the rest of the crime scene file when they are done processing the murder sight. There is really nothing more we can do until then, so let’s talk about what we found out from our assignments this afternoon.”

  The team leaders brought the task force up to speed on what had transpired between meetings. No new info from the staff. Richardson said there were lots of tall men on the cruise, but no one who seemed out of the ordinary so far.

  Agent Tucker and Alex had taken more pictures of Liz’s body, but saw nothing obvious from their physical exam. The new pictures would be ready in a couple of hours. Then they processed the Casnovsky’s room, and Tucker relayed how they had found blood at the Casnovsky’s cabin that could belong to the attacker. Manny thought that might be a break.

  When it was Sophie’s turn, she explained how she had found the bloodied excursion ticket near the lifeboat. The killer had apparently made a mistake and that was cause for optimism.

  Manny wondered.

  The ship’s records showed that the ticket was one of two issued to the Casnovskys so the killer must have used it when he went to Trunk Bay. There was no way to trace it from there so that translated to another dead end. At least until they got the results from the print. Sophie said that Perez had info from the ship’s photo database and would share when she arrived.

  Agent Corner relayed that his staff in Miami had tried to contact Dr. Argyle about Peppercorn’s profile, but he was out of town. His receptionist said that she would contact him as soon as possible.

  Corner looked at Manny. “Detective Williams?”

  Manny let out a breath and began. “I think Peppercorn, if it is Peppercorn, is worse than we thought. He likes to wait until his victims are awake and then watches them die.”

  Silent revulsion rippled through the room.

  “I don’t know if it’s a power game or some kind of God syndrome, but the killer watches the light go out. He may think he’s catching some part of their essence, their soul or spirit.”

  “How do you know that?” demanded Richardson.

  Richardson’s acrimonious tone barely registered.

  “If you look at the close-up head photos of the victims, each one has a pattern of faint bruises along the crown of the head. They were made with the killer’s other hand. The pattern is consistent with someone holding their heads still.”

  “That bruising could have happened at a different time during the assault,” countered Richardson.

  “Maybe, but I don’t think so. There would have been no reason to hold their head still if they were already out. Besides, the bruising is blurred, like it took him a minute to get control of each victim.”

  Richardson glared at Manny, but said nothing.

  “His fingers and hands are like those you would associate with someone at least six-four. Like agent Tucker said, he is incredibly strong. It takes serious strength to kill the way he kills.”

  “His height would lend credence to your theory that he may be the same man you saw,” stated Agent Corner.

  Manny nodded.

  “Anything else?”

  “Yeah, one more thing.” Manny turned to Agent Tucker. “Did you find any spots on the bed that may have been make-up or looked like make-up?”

  Tucker looked at Alex, then back to Manny and shrugged. “Yes. We assumed it was Liz’s. But we swabbed it and sent it to the lab anyway. Why?”

  “I think he may use disguises. It could be just enough make-up to alter his skin tone, or maybe to change his whole look. I’m not sure. But I noticed a small tan blotch near the foot of the bed and it seemed out of place.”

  Uneasy silence filled the room. If Manny were right, they not only had an intelligent homicidal lunatic on their hands, but one who could change his appearance. No one wanted to add chameleon to this killer’s skill set.

  Agent Corner finally broke the silence. “We are going to change some things. I want to have six teams of two on watch at all times. When I say watch, I mean strolling around the decks, scoping out the Casino, checking out the bars, and attending dinner in the main dining rooms. I want a team as near to every kind of passenger activity as possible.

  “If they’re tall, I want a picture of them. Anything or anyone that looks remotely unusual is to be documented and photographed.”

  Captain Serafini cleared his throat to speak, then didn’t. Instead, he turned toward an arched armoire that matched the color of the oval conference table. He pulled out a key from his short white uniform jacket and unlocked the large door. Reaching in, he pulled out eight holstered Glock 19, 9MM handguns. Each weapon was a polished smoke-color and fitted with a fifteen-shot clip.

  The Captain’s piercing eyes were alive as he addressed the mixed crew around the table. “I trust that each of you know how to use these and use them safely. I am taking a calculated risk in handing out these weapons.” He tilted his head like Clint Eastwood in a Dirty Harry movie. “Desperate measures for a desperate time. I am pledged to protect my passengers and crew, and I will not allow this heathen to kill again. Agent Corner and I h
ave consulted on this and believe it to be prudent.”

  He threw a quick side-glance toward the FBI agent. Corner was looking at the guns and said nothing.

  “I know that you all will do what is necessary if the situation presents itself.”

  The Captain handed a firearm to each one of the seven cops plus an extra clip. The last one sat on the table like a lonely statue in a deserted park.

  Manny leaped to his feet. “Damn. Where is Detective Perez?”

  ****************

  CHAPTER-48

  Fearing the worst, Manny raced through the narrow hall of Deck Six, making a beeline toward Christine Perez’s stateroom. His lungs were ablaze, but the only thing that mattered, that was important, was getting there. He prayed they hadn’t been outplayed again.

  A glance over his left shoulder confirmed that Sophie was only a few yards behind, with the others at her heels. Good partners were hard to find.

  He picked up the pace, hoping Perez was alright and that he was simply overreacting.

  But something had happened, hadn’t it? Something horrible.

  The premonition haunting Manny wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t pay the bill and check out.

  Damn it. Why didn’t they react sooner? There is no way she would be that late for the meeting.

  He quickened his gait again and was now motoring at a full sprint. He passed 6546 and was just paces away from Christina Perez’s cabin.

  After a few more strides, he pulled the Glock from its holster and flipped the safety to off, hoping he didn’t need it, but feeling he would.

  Manny slid to a stop and began hammering the door. “Detective Perez? Detective?”No answer. “Christina. This is Manny Williams. Open the door.”

  Silence was the only sound, and his anguish spiraled higher. Sophie and the others arrived, and she immediately began pounding on the door with him, yelling Christina’s name even louder. A few onlookers peeked from cabin doors to see what the ruckus was about, but Alex told them to get back inside. The guests moved so quickly it reminded Manny of turtles pulling their heads back into patterned shells.

  “We need to get in there, now. Sophie, find a room steward and…”

  Richardson cut him off. “Relax, I have a key.”

  He whirled around in time to see the Chief fingering a worn black ring teeming with silver and gold keys. Attached to the very bottom of the oval menagerie was a white card equipped with a black magnetic strip. It was hard to miss Richardson’s slight look of triumph.

  “I am the head of security and have a master key or card for every door on the ship. Every door,” he gloated.

  Richardson eyed Manny. “You don’t even know if anything is wrong. Maybe she lost track of time and is tanning on the deck.”

  “C’mon Chief. That’s bullshit, and you know it. She’s not the type to forget or blow off a meeting, just open the damn door,” Manny demanded.

  “Now, Chief,” ordered Corner.

  Richardson rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Just hold on to your weenies.” He reached for the key slot, card in hand.

  “I got your weenie,” muttered Sophie.

  Manny bumped her and motioned for her to move to the other side of the door.

  “Okay. I get it. But when this is over, I’m going to kick the living shit out of him,” she whispered. “Twice.”

  Sophie and Corner drew newly acquired weapons and took positions at different angles pointing to Perez’s cabin.

  Richardson grasped the handle, slid the card in the slot, and pushed the door inward.

  CHAPTER-49

  The heavy door hung open and Manny not only saw the darkness, but it whispered to him to come in, to take a chance. No guts no glory. He burst into the room, Corner and Sophie on his heels, not surprisingly, Richardson bringing up the rear. Each had their 9MM pistols raised to a readied, ninety-degree angle, prepared for anything.

  The room was as silent as a fog-shrouded graveyard after the witching hour. The thick curtains were drawn taut, forcing the room to embrace the dark. Manny nodded and Sophie flipped both light switches. The brass overhead fixture flickered into life, simultaneously with the bathroom lamp. He waited motionlessly for his eyes to adjust. He could swear he heard each officer’s stammering heartbeat.

  Richardson emerged from the tiny bathroom shaking his head. Manny moved to the closed drapes and tore them open. There was no sign of the San Juan detective. He cautiously stepped through the deck door and peered over the railing, not sure what he was searching for but covering every possibility. He saw only more sun, ship, and deep ocean.

  Stepping back to the crowded cabin, he noticed Perez’s suitcase lay open, resting on the front edge of the bed. There were a few personal items laid out in an orderly fashion near the pillows. Running shoes, make-up bag, toothpaste and brush, red large-toothed comb, and the dark leather Smith and Wesson shoulder holster for her service revolver formed a silent brigade of useless witnesses to the whereabouts of the woman who set them there. Her Sun and Fun card, just like in the Casnovsky’s room, rested on the cabinet.

  “I guess this throws your sunbathing on the deck theory down the toilet, eh Richardson?” said Sophie in a voice dripping with sweet sarcasm.

  Richardson’s look told her to get bent. She blew him a kiss.

  Sophie had regained her composure completely, and her acid tongue to boot. Manny was grateful. He needed her. All of her.

  “Maybe she locked herself out and had to find help getting into the room,” said Agent Corner.

  “I don’t think so. Her shoes are here, and why was the curtain closed?”

  At that instant, Agent Tucker and Alex arrived, both breathing like they would never catch their breath again.

  “If she’s not here, you four need to step out of there…maybe we can see something…that once resembled…a damn clue to…what may be going on here,” wheezed Agent Tucker in his best “you just stepped all over the evidence but I can’t breathe” voice.

  “Just a minute. We want to make sure everthin…” Manny’s response stuck in his throat.“Shit,” he huffed, focusing intently at the empty holster. “Did she bring a weapon aboard, and if she did, where is it?”

  “I thought you couldn’t bring a gun on board under any circumstances,” said Sophie.

  “You can’t,” whined Richardson. “Only the security staff has access to firearms.”

  “I didn’t even know she had one. She didn’t turn any in when she boarded so I thought she didn’t bring her piece. Even Tucker and I agreed to give up ours,” said Corner.

  “I bet it was her back up,” said Manny.

  Corner took charge. “I’ll have her paged. Williams and Lee start down that side of the hall and knock on every damn door. Richardson and I will take the other side. I want to know if anyone even thought they saw or heard something out of the ordinary.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? We don’t want to panic any more guests,” offered Richardson.

  ”We have a missing detective and five murders here, Chief. I don’t give a shit about panicking guests, not anymore.”

  Manny couldn’t help but see the venomous look spewing from Corner’s blue eyes, staying any other thought Richardson wanted to express. The man was in charge and a little emotion at the right time was a good thing.

  Sophie nudged Manny as she headed out of the room. “I like him. He’s hot and bossy…like you.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  After one last look around, Manny began to follow the others to the door, when he heard it. Stopping stiff in his tracks, he cocked his head and listened. There! Coming from the closet, the sound begged again.

  Indistinguishable, the echo was barely audible.

  He turned toward the closet and raised his gun.

  CHAPTER-50

  An unsavory chill ran the length of Manny’s spine while he backed away from the closet.

  What the hell?

  As he pointed the Glock and took another step back,
his thoughts were scorched with burning possibilities, accompanied by all too familiar uneasiness that caused his neck to tighten.

  “Partner, move your ass. We have doors to...” Sophie never finished.

  He waved her toward him. The quizzical look on her face vanished when the light bulb switched on. She raised her gun, moved to the opposite side of the closet, paying attention to his lead, her demeanor alert and ready. By then, Corner and Richardson had come back to the room.

  “Did anyone check this closet?” Manny said to Sophie.

  She shook her head and shrugged. “Not me,” she whispered.

  The other two cops shook their heads.

  Incredible! In the heat of the pressure-crammed moment when they had entered Detectives Perez’s cabin, everyone had assumed that someone else had secured the closet.

  It was the kind of thing that could get a cop hurt--or worse.

  Heart pounding in his ears, he motioned for Sophie to get into position. The door swung from left to right and he wanted her to pull it open, while he readied his aim.

  Agent Corner squeezed past Sophie and stood a couple of feet behind Manny, gun ready. Corner’s forehead beaded with clear perspiration and not from the heat either. There was a trace of excitement in his youthful face.

  He glanced over to his partner, and she nodded her head. Manny wasn’t sure whose role in this mind-wrenching process was worse, hers or his, but knew she would do her part in flawless fashion. He prayed he would do his.

  Sophie let out a slow, bleeding breath and clasped the polished pewter handle, eyes wide.

  Manny flexed his left hand and brought it slowly to his waiting right hand, his gun hand. He remembered his academy instructions; two hands were better than one. He had to be steady. They might only get one chance at this.

  Sophie and he had routinely done this dozens of times before. But this time was different

  He tried to quiet the cacophony running amuck in his head. It worked, a little. Catching Sophie’s eyes with his, he nodded ever so slightly.