“What happened next?”
“Next she sat down on the sofa across from us and explained very carefully and politely that she had great respect for my father and for me, and that she only wanted the relationship between us to be strong. She wanted to help facilitate that strong relationship she told him, and he smiled that twisted smile of his. He offered her some water, acknowledging she didn’t drink alcohol. Within a few minutes she was drowsy and she knew something was wrong. I tried to intervene, Mister Crane, with God as my witness I tried to help her but he knocked me to the ground and I lost consciousness.”
Derek quickly finished his second drink. He started to pour a third but stopped before any liquid hit his glass.
“What happened next, Mister Crane, I’ll never forgive myself for.”
“Take it slowly.”
“We were in some kind of industrial shed. I was handcuffed, Millie was on a table; she was still unconscious but had been stripped and… Positioned so she could be…” Derek couldn’t finish. Gordon understood.
“You saw it?”
“Saw it?” Derek questioned, looking towards Gordon with unashamed streams of tears running from his eyes. “He made me watch. The sick bastard made me watch for days. They’d shoot her up with drugs so she’d be compliant and then he’d…”
“They?”
“He and a couple of his thugs.”
Gordon felt his blood rising and his heartbeat quicken as his rage built.
“Days. They’d come and go, leaving us both there. I tried to get free but I was handcuffed to a metal support and all I did was make my wrists bleed. She was secured with some kind of plastic wrap and could barely move a fraction of an inch. She was also so weak from the drugs and the attacks that she could barely think let alone act. They kept her nourished, taking turns to feed her, if that’s any sort of comfort. To me, it was just part of their sick game.”
“No, it was so that when her body was found there’d be fewer signs of trauma, which would have indicated she’d been held against her will.” Gordon informed him. “What happened next?”
“Dad told her she needed to keep quiet about what had happened or he’d kill her, her mother and anyone he suspected she’d spoken to. He promised if she kept quiet then he’d give her a sizable amount of money and she could go free. Millie agreed. I don’t know if she would’ve kept quiet but he never had any intention of letting her live. He uncuffed me and gave her some slutty clothes to wear. She was so submissive, so afraid. I did my best to comfort her but what can you say in that situation? We were put in the back of one of the company SUVs with bags over our heads and driven back into the city. Once we were there they stopped and the bags were removed and we drove around for a while, then he decided to let Millie out. One of his thugs followed her and pushed her down to her knees before slamming her head into the dumpster. I could tell from how still she was that Millie was dead. I could tell. I could tell.” He repeated a few times.
Gordon could see how traumatized Derek was by the barbaric episode. His face was ghostly pale and reliving the nightmare had etched a haunted look on his features. No doubt he’d kept the secret out of fear, but the guilt had been eating away at his soul.
“If we’re going to take your father down for this, Derek, we’re going to need some proof.”
“I don’t have any, but he does.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was recording the whole thing.”
“Just one more question: why did he force you to watch? Had he ever done that before?”
“No, he hadn’t. He just… he said he wanted me to know the price I’d have to pay if I involved any outsiders in family business again. After you came to visit me, before he had you brought to see him, he assaulted me in the bathroom to remind me what would happen if I didn’t keep quiet. I was hoping... I knew I’d never be able to tell you what happened to Millie, I wanted to... but in the end, all I could do was hope you’d discover the truth without my direct assistance. After the meeting in his office, all I could think of doing to help was to act suspicious enough that you’d keep looking into me and then hope it would lead you to him. That’s why I acted the way I did in the bar.”
Gordon nodded. He finished his drink then leaned forward, setting the glass down and turning off the recorder on his phone. Now that it was off, Derek poured himself another, albeit smaller, drink and quickly knocked it back.
“Are you going to kill him?” Derek asked calmly. Gordon looked at him and then shrugged his shoulders slightly as he put his phone away and slid his gun back in the holster.
“I guess that’s up to him.”
“I hope you do.” Derek suddenly declared vehemently.
“Do you know where he keeps the video he made?”
“No.”
“What about where he took you and Millie?”
“I’m sorry, no. He put a bag over my head on the way there too. All I know is it looked like a large, industrial shed. It was away from the city because it was really quiet.”
Gordon said nothing and instead made a mental note to call Jones and ask him to look into property records and see if Leland Security, or Harold Leland himself, owned an industrial building away from the city. He started to stand, but felt compelled to say something. Derek was broken by the violence that had dominated his life and what he’d seen happen to his closest friend.
“There really wasn’t anything you could have done, Derek. Harold’s a sick piece of work and with his thugs there too, you’re actually lucky to be alive.”
“It’s not luck. He told me that it’d just cause too much trouble if I disappeared too.”
“I’ll get him. I’m not going to let him get away with killing Millie or Isabelle.”
“I’m really sorry about Isabelle. Maybe if I wasn’t such a coward she’d be alive. If I’d just spoken up sooner…”
Gordon, in that moment, could only think coldly that Derek was right. If he’d told someone what he’d seen sooner, more women would be alive and Isabelle would’ve had closure. He understood Derek was afraid and couldn’t imagine what he’d been through in his life, but the truth was Derek’s silence had cost lives. Perhaps, given time, Gordon could find some genuine sympathy for him, but he hurt too much to do that right now. He was bitter that Isabelle had died and likely would be for some time. Right now, however, he needed Derek’s cooperation.
“Try not to focus on what you didn’t do and focus instead on what you can do now. When we bring him down, testify so that we can make sure he doesn’t get a chance to hurt someone else.”
“Okay, but I want protection; my father has friends everywhere and I’m sure he’d have them… take care of me.”
“I’m going to take you to see--” Gordon started, but several loud, angry thuds on the door drew his attention.
“Open up!” A brutish voice demanded. Derek jumped up, looking in the direction of the front door with barely concealed panic on his features.
“That's Tom Richards! He’s one of the people who… who… with Millie!” Derek managed to get out. Gordon drew his gun and held it at his side.
“Open the door or I’ll break it down!” Tom barked loudly.
“What are we going to do? If they find you here and tell my father…”
“Don’t worry about it. Open the door, try to get rid of him.” Gordon instructed.
“I-I can’t!”
“Yes you can, now do--”
Before Gordon could finish speaking, an extremely loud slam struck the door, followed almost immediately by a second. The door shattered inwards, fragments of wood splintering off as the lock was torn away. Gordon took a half step back and raised his weapon just as a huge, bulky figure stepped into view. He had his own weapon raised and began to take aim at Gordon. Both men scrambled for cover, Gordon going to his left and Tom mimicking the movement.
“Crane! Drop your weapon!”
“No chance!” Gordon responded. He glanced around the corner
of the doorframe and saw Tom was completely behind cover.
“Just walk away! You don’t want to end up like that bitch this morning!”
Gordon saw him shift slightly, edging closer to the frame of the living room door, but with most of his body still protected from a clear line of fire. Gordon didn’t doubt Tom would kill him as soon as he had the chance; it’d be easy for him to claim he intervened when Gordon tried to attack Derek, and people like Jenkins would buy it after Gordon had loudly proclaimed Leland to be responsible for Isabelle’s death. Gordon took a couple of steadying breaths and tensed his fingers on his weapon. Tom suddenly peeked out from around the corner and fired a trio of snapshots in Gordon’s direction; the bullets slammed into the walls harmlessly and resulted in nothing but a panicked yelp from Derek.
“Stay down!” Gordon yelled at him, keeping his eyes where Tom was in cover. Gordon brought his weapon to the ready and waited; Tom peeked out again, exposing a little of his upper mass - just part of his arm and a section of his shoulder - but enough for Gordon to fire at. He squeezed off two shots, one of which clipped Tom’s left forearm and the other hit the wall. Tom roared in pain and shrank back and Gordon held himself ready, waiting to see if Tom was going to come out again, but he was holding his position. This seemed totally wrong to Gordon; so he turned quickly, glancing towards the archway connecting the dining room to the living room, just in time to see a figure appear there. Gordon twisted and fired his weapon, barely aiming before unleashing a deadly salvo of shots that tore through the upper chest of the armed figure; he let out a painful yelp and collapsed backward, slamming his head on a dining chair before slumping to the ground. Gordon glanced back the other way just in time to see Tom barrelling towards him; the bulky, ginger-haired figure was rearing back to slam his fist towards Gordon’s face. The detective weaved away, barely avoiding the strike, and took a few staggering steps backwards. He attempted to raise his weapon, but Tom was too close and continued his assault, swinging the butt of the gun and striking Gordon on the side of the head, likely hoping to stun the private detective so he wouldn’t be able to fight back before executing him. Pain flooded Gordon’s skull and he stumbled to the side, his body hitting the cabinet and jostling the contents as he rebounded heavily, landing on his injured shoulder and opening at least one of the stitches. Tom slammed the gun butt into Gordon’s face, the strike connecting painfully and more than doubling the pain he felt in his head.
Gordon was wounded but knew he had to fight back or die. He saw Tom raising his weapon to fire a kill shot, and instantly reacted by firing at Tom’s lower leg, one shot hitting him in the foot, the other below the knee. Tom screeched and fell sideways; Gordon quickly dropped on top of him, punching the man quickly in the face twice before reaching out to grab his gun. The bulky man recovered and tried to shove Gordon off, but the detective countered by smacking the butt of his pistol into Tom’s mouth. He heard the definite breaking of teeth and saw Tom struggling not to gag on blood and teeth fragments; this gave Gordon the advantage and allowed him to wrest Tom’s gun from his hand. He shoved it down the back of his jeans and then, while he spat blood and teeth from his mouth, rolled Tom onto his front. Gordon placed the barrel of his weapon against the back of Tom’s skull.
“Stop struggling or I’ll blow your damn head off.” Gordon said with icy calmness. Tom ceased his attempts to free himself of Gordon’s weight, and spat violently again, more blood spurting out.
“Oh, my God.” Derek muttered. Gordon glanced at him and saw he was standing in front of his sofa, looking wildly between the dead body near his dining table and the subdued man Gordon was currently threatening.
“Go make sure he’s dead.” Gordon instructed.
“What?” Derek asked, aghast and confused.
“See if he’s dead.” Gordon instructed firmly. “Then get your phone.”
Derek stumbled away in a dazed, confused way. He approached the body gingerly, kneeling down and poking it a little before taking one of the hands and checking the pulse on his wrist.
“I-I-I think… I think he’s dead.”
“Good. Get your phone and I’ll tell you who to call.”
“O-Okay.” Derek said, reaching into his pocket and taking it out. Gordon gave him Jones’ cell phone number, instructing him to tell Jones to get here as quickly as he could and to ditch his partner. Derek did as he was told, explaining who he was and asking for Gordon’s permission to tell him what had happened, which Gordon gave. When he was done Gordon told him to step outside and keep an eye out to see if anyone else was coming. Derek agreed easily, perhaps relieved to be away from what had happened inside his home.
“So, now that we’re alone, how about you tell me who killed Isabelle this morning? Your friend over there? You?”
“Screw you!” Tom responded aggressively.
Gordon looked down at the bloody sleeve of his jacket where Gordon had clipped him earlier. He shifted and grabbed Tom’s wounded arm, squeezing as hard as he could. Tom let out a painful growl. After a few seconds, Gordon relinquished his grip and pushed the barrel of his gun harder against Tom’s head.
“I asked you a question.” Gordon stated coldly.
“Mike did.” Tom answered between grunts of pain.
“And Mike is who?”
Tom tried to gesture with his head towards the body.
“He was. Mike Gambini.”
“Isn’t that convenient.” Gordon commented. “Harold ordered the hit?”
Tom didn’t answer; instead he started to jostle as though he was trying to get up again. Gordon removed the gun from the back of his head and slammed the butt onto his hand, catching him on the knuckles. There was a gruesome sound of breaking bones and Tom howled.
“Listen!” Gordon hissed, leaning forward. “I don’t care about your life. I’ll take you apart piece by piece until you tell me what I want to know, so how about you save yourself some grief and answer my questions!”
“Nothing you do will stick to us! You arrest me now and our lawyers will have me out on the street by morning!”
Gordon leaned in, speaking softly and menacingly directly into Tom’s ear.
“Who said anything about you being arrested? If you don’t tell me what I want to know, you’re not walking out of here. Your survival hinges on the next thing you say. Now, tell me, did Harold order the hit?”
“Yes! He wanted us to kill you as a warning to her mother to let it go but it didn’t go to plan. He was hoping you’d back off now that you weren’t getting paid but I guess seeing as how we her caught doing the walk of shame from your apartment, you had other motivations for doing the case.”
Gordon really wanted to kill him in that moment. He’d never gone outside the law and taken justice into his own hands but, as he held his gun to Tom’s head, his finger twitched as he resisted the impulse to end Tom’s life and rid the world of one more piece of filth. He struggled to think of a reason why he shouldn’t, until he heard Derek’s voice behind him.
“If we let him get arrested then maybe it’ll help us with my father. He was there when Millie... He was there.” He repeated. “They can offer him a deal or something and he can testify against him.”
Gordon lowered the gun for a second; the idea of the lowlife making a deal made him sick. He thought about what he could do to try and prevent that from happening - how Jones could help him prevent that from happening… when Tom made a sudden move. Distracted by his thoughts, Gordon was knocked off of Tom’s back and sent to the ground. Tom rolled over and started to rise up, reaching down to a bulge near his ankle. As he yanked up his trouser leg and reached for the ankle holster there, Gordon levelled his weapon and put two rounds into Tom’s chest and a final, killing shot, into his forehead. Tom slumped back heavily, landing with a thud as his blood oozed onto the nice, hardwood floor.
“Oh man… oh God…” Derek mumbled. “My father is going to go nuts when he finds out what happened here. He’s going to kill me, this time he
’s going to kill me regardless of how it’ll look.”
“Not if we get to him first.” Gordon told Derek as he stood up. He ejected his mostly spent magazine and replaced it with a fresh one from a small pouch at the back of his belt, then turned to look at Derek and saw he was staring blankly at the bodies on the floor.
“There’s no way, there’s nothing we can do.”
“Get me to your father’s house. We’ll search it and see if we can find the tape he made... or maybe tapes, because I imagine if he recorded one of his kills he probably recorded the others too. If we can do that, with them and your testimony, we can lure him out and see if we can secure a confession. I’ll get Jones there and we’ll make it as official as possible.”
“What if that doesn’t work? What if he gets the evidence thrown out or he runs away?” Derek said, his words running into each other as he spoke without pausing for breath.
“It’ll work. We’ll make it work. We just need that proof.” Gordon explained. He was still torn apart inside between wanting to take justice into his own hands and take Harold’s life, and all his years as a cop which compelled him to have Harold arrested. At this point, he was simply focused on accumulating the evidence. Whatever he did with Harold in the end, having the proof of his crimes was necessary.
“What if he says you searched his home illegally? He’s good at bending the law.” Derek questioned, snapping Gordon back into the moment.
“We’ll not mention that I searched his home; we’ll say that you found the video okay? Just work with me here.”
Derek seemed unconvinced, but as Gordon approached and rested his hand on Derek’s shoulder, he seemed to snap out of his fear induced stupor a little.
His Twisted Smile Page 18
