“What are we going to do?”
“We’re going to start by going to my car, and then you’re going to talk to your father.”
Chapter Twelve
Gordon and Derek reached Gordon’s car and were away before the first responders arrived at Derek’s home. As Derek guided Gordon to his father’s residence, the detective called Jones and quickly attempted to explain what had happened.
“I managed to get Derek’s statement recorded but that’s when two of Leland’s thugs showed up. They were there to kill me; I guess the two who were shuttled away from outside managed to put a call through to Harold and he sent reinforcements.”
“Well, you better keep Derek safe because Harold could claim you kidnapped his son.” Jones informed him. “You didn’t, right?”
“No, I didn’t.” Gordon replied exasperatedly. “Derek’s here willingly. He’s going to help me retrieve some evidence from Harold’s, then we’ll come in. I need you to look up something for me though, because we’re not going to have a lot of time.”
“I’m already on my way to you.”
“Then go back. I need you to find out if Harold or his company owns some kind of industrial shed outside of town or on the outskirts.”
“That’s quite a wide net you’re casting.”
“Get Weller to help you but keep her out of the confrontation. As soon as you have something, call me and we’ll go take a look at it together.”
“Okay, I’ll get back to you ASAP.” Jones responded loyally. Gordon felt a sudden pang of guilt over ordering his friend around.
“Jones.” Gordon added just before he could hang up.
“What?”
“I appreciate the help.”
“You’d better.” Jones replied. Gordon smiled and then hung up.
“Do you think you’ll find anything out at the shed?” Derek wanted to know.
“If we don’t find the video or videos at his home then I don’t know where else he could be hiding them. They’re like his trophies, so he’ll want them somewhere safe and where he can get to them easily in order to relive his kills. If there are no videos other than Millie’s then there’ll be something else he took as a trophy. Does Leland have any staff who might be at his home?”
“Not as far as I’m aware. He’s got a cleaner who comes in twice a week to tidy up the main areas of the house, but that’s all I know of.”
Gordon drove the rest of the way quickly, staying just under the speed limit so he didn’t attract attention. Harold’s place was quite a distance away, and as it was perched on top of a hill, offered a nice view of the city. It was a massive mansion, which Derek told Gordon featured an open plan living space on the ground floor and a large swimming pool at the rear of the property. Upstairs was where Harold had his private office, which seemed as good a hiding place as any. They pulled up outside and, before they left the vehicle, Gordon grabbed some latex gloves from the glove compartment and slipped them on to prevent leaving any fingerprints. Derek opened the door to the mansion with the key his father had given him then quickly entered and reached for the security alarm pad on the wall just inside to tap in the disarm code.
“We should be good.” Derek told Gordon.
“Should isn’t exactly comforting.” Derek looked a little sheepish.
“Well, to tell the truth, Dad only gave me a cursory look at the security system here, so there could be more to it than I know.”
“Then let’s be quick. We’ll start in the office.” Gordon instructed briskly. Derek nodded and began to lead the way.
The house was ultra modern inside; a wide staircase leading up the second floor rose from the centre of what would have been termed as the hallway, which was just a plain, metal and wood construct. It was, as Derek had suggested, all open plan, which reminded Gordon a little of Isabelle’s home. The main difference being the living room and dining room were flipped, as was the kitchen, so they were on opposite sides. The floor was covered in a rich, dark brown hardwood and the walls were painted a startling white; overall, it was quite minimalist in its decoration and lacked a real sense of the owner’s style. Then again, Gordon thought as he started up the stairs behind Derek, it was probably better if it featured little of Harold’s style, given his sick proclivities. Upstairs, the aesthetics were similar, gleaming hardwood floors and monotonous white walls, which ran around the perimeter of the upper floor. There were a few rooms visible and a couple of side corridors, which led to more. Derek led the way with ease, arriving at what he knew to be his father’s office within thirty seconds. He grabbed the handle and tried to turn it, but found it locked.
“What are we going to do?” Derek asked; concern etched on his features. After retrieving the small, black leather case containing his lock-picks from his pocket, Gordon gently nudged him aside and knelt beside the door handle, then set about fiddling with the lock.
“If you’re asked, remember that the office door was already open when you got here.”
“Okay.” Derek responded timidly.
It took about a minute, before the mechanism clicked into place and the handle became turnable; much to Gordon’s relief. He opened the door and let Derek enter first. Harold’s office was as impersonal and bland as the rest of the house, though this time it featured a beige carpet that matched the shade of the walls. The room itself was fairly spacious despite the assorted furniture it contained. There were couple book cabinets, one of which contained a hollow housing assorted alcohol; other than that, they held a number of books seemingly related to sport and history. A large desk was set up in front of large a window overlooking the rear garden and the illuminated swimming pool Derek had previously informed him of. There were a few filing cabinets and a tall wooden cabinet featuring a safe in the middle and an array of trophies on the top shelves dominating the far wall. A television was mounted on the wall to the right and on top of a small unit beneath it was a DVD player. A reclining chair set up in front so someone could comfortably watch whatever was on the television. Just in case he was lucky, Gordon went over and opened the DVD player, but found the machine empty. He glanced around the room. DVD cases stood in a neat pile on top of the desk near the computer monitor, and beneath the desktop, three large drawers on either side offered plenty of storage; with additional space offered by a couple of plastic crates stacked beside it. It seemed like a good place for something to be hidden. Harold, if he was like many other predators, would want his trophies close to hand in a space where he could privately enjoy them. If there were tapes or items he had taken as trophies, then it seemed likely they’d be in here somewhere.
Gordon took another look around the room, noticing for the first time that there were no family pictures or mementos of his family. The trophies in the cabinet were work related or personal in some nature, amongst them a shooting trophy and one for archery.
“Do you know how to open the safe?” Gordon asked.
“Uh, maybe? I guess I could try some obvious combinations like birthdays and stuff.”
“Go for it.” Gordon told him, but given the lack of sentimentality in the rest of the room, he doubted Harold would have any with regards to the safe in his office.
Derek went over to it and began fiddling with the digital lock, tapping in numbers carefully as he thought of them. Gordon went over to the computer and turned it on. It wasn’t, to his surprise, password protected, which told him instantly there was nothing of value on it. Nonetheless, he accessed what he could, finding there were no saved passwords for the email program, which prevented him from seeing what, if anything, was within. There was a cloud storage application, which, when accessed, revealed saved documents relating to some kind of fantasy football league. He searched through the obvious places: the videos folder, the pictures folder and the documents folder, finding nothing incriminating or remotely revealing about Harold’s personality. His computer was as boring on the surface as the man who owned it, and other than a few video games that Gordon didn’t
imagine he played, there was nothing whatsoever of interest.
Next, Gordon rifled through the DVD cases on the desktop; they were empty and likely there for new discs to be placed in. Did that mean there was another victim lined up? Perhaps, but the cool down on the kill time should still have been in effect. Unless, Gordon considered, his investigation had riled Harold up to such an extent he was seeking release already. Gordon followed this by searching the drawers, which were filled with nothing but stationary and assorted junk. With his frustration growing, Gordon left the desk and attempted to search one of the filing cabinets but found it locked. It took less time to pick it than the door had and Gordon began rifling through the contents quickly. There were a number of personnel files from the Titanium Security building. This might not have seemed out of the ordinary, but the first two in the top drawer were Mike and Tom, the two people Gordon had killed earlier. The next two files contained photographs and information on the two people he recognized as Derek’s ‘bodyguards’. These two men were apparently named Ross Smith and Elias Reeves; the former was an ex-cop who had been fired for excessive force and the latter an ex-soldier who had been dishonourably discharged for violent misconduct during an overseas deployment. This tracked with what Jones had told him about Harold recruiting people who had a murky past. It wasn’t a massive stretch to assume they’d be willing to carry out some unscrupulous activities if the pay was right. There were a half dozen other files in the same drawer; leading Gordon to assume these were all Harold’s ‘fixers’.
The other drawers simply contained business files and folders; there wasn’t anything confidential or even interesting in regards to the case. Gordon briefly hoped there might be a property deed, which would show the ownership of an industrial shed, but frustratingly there wasn’t. Gordon sighed. He worked his way through the cabinets swiftly but efficiently, while at the same time Derek fiddled with the safe, clearly growing more agitated as time went on. As Gordon slid the last drawer closed Derek let out a frustrated cry and punched the safe, immediately gasping in pain and shaking his hand vigorously.
“Hey!” Gordon snapped at him. “Cool it.”
“Sorry. I just… I just want to help and this goddamn thing won’t open!”
“Well, unless you’re one of those superheroes from the movies, punching it won’t help. Take a step back, think about it and see if you can imagine anything that Harold might’ve said that would give you a hint as to what the combination is.”
“Okay. Okay.” Derek said, taking several deep breaths as he rubbed his hand. Gordon looked around the room. There wasn’t much else to examine other than the plastic crates. He approached them, grabbed the first one and lifted it up before setting it down in a more central position in the room. He dropped to his knees, wrenched the lid off and tossed it to one side. It was filled with old junk: used notepads, cracked CD cases that didn’t have any CDs inside and several books. Gordon flicked through the books, just in case they contained something between the pages, but found nothing. He checked the next crate, found it contained nothing but spare computer parts - mice, keyboards, speakers - and moved that crate aside. The third and final crate contained the same junky nothingness that only exacerbated Gordon’s frustration. He knew there was a good chance Harold would be sending people to protect his home as soon as he heard nothing back from the goons he had sent to Derek’s, and was determined they weren’t leaving without some kind of evidence.
Hurrying over to the books on the shelves, he quickly rifled through them, hoping something would shake loose as he ripped the volumes from their places and shook them aggressively. Next he rifled through the drink bottles, though he doubted there would be anything there. Feeling a surge of hot frustration, Gordon looked around the room one last time. There were no pictures on the walls, no sections of plaster which seemed uneven, to indicate some kind of hidden panel, and no scuff marks on the carpet that might suggest the cabinets opened up to reveal a secret room or compartment. This suddenly struck Gordon as odd.
“Hey, does Harold have carpet in any of the other rooms?”
“Just the rooms up here, and not all of them. Why?”
“Huh.” Gordon commented simply. There was a saying about hiding things in plain sight. Everything in the room seemed like a good hiding place - the kind of obviously good hiding place that would draw anyone in to search; a safe, plastic crates, drawers, places normal people would put things they didn’t want anyone to find. Gordon began to move about the room, his footsteps heavy as he tested the floorboards underneath. Derek turned to look at him.
“What are you--” He started but Gordon silenced him with an aggressive wave of his hand. Derek fell silent and simply watched. Gordon tested all the main areas of the floor he could, even moving the crates so he could check beneath them. Once the main floor area was checked, he closed the door and began checking the perimeter of the room, stepping heavily and carefully. Slowly, he worked his way around, moving past the desk and then stepping where the storage crates had once been placed. His heart raced as the floorboard beneath his boot squeaked.
Gordon fell quickly to his knees, retrieving his pocket knife and cutting away at the carpet. It was thick, but as he tried to cut it away, he found there was a panel of the carpet that was loose and only appeared to be a part of the main carpet because of the way the crates had previously been stacked on top of it. Gordon pulled it free and was able to access the hardwood floorboards beneath, seeing immediately that there was one that could be pried out; evidenced by a scratching on the wood near one edge. With his knife, he carefully lifted the board up and peered into the compartment beneath. There was something down there.
Excited that he might finally have the evidence he sought, but equally filled with dread at the thought of what it would show, Gordon removed a couple of other boards so he could gain access more easily. He reached inside and pulled up a small, redwood box and a number of small memory sticks in a clear plastic bag.
“Is that it?” Derek wanted to know.
“I think so.” Gordon responded as he lifted the bag out. He looked through the sides and saw they had small labels on them with names written in black marker.
“Tiffany. Cleo. Rochelle.” Gordon read off those he recognized. He twisted the bag, looking for one more name, and felt his heart sink. “Millie.”
Gordon opened the bag and retrieved Millie’s memory stick. He set the bag down next to the redwood box on the floor and approached the DVD player. It had a port on the front allowing the operator to plug in a memory stick and play a saved video file. He did so, turned on the television and then set the device to play. What he saw made him feel sick. Gordon swore then that he would never describe what he saw on the video file unless it was in court; he watched for less than a minute and then turned it off. Silently, he extracted the memory stick and placed it back in the bag. He looked at Derek and saw he was ghostly pale and staring at his shoes. Gordon opened the box and saw it was filled with items of jewellery. Poking through them, he soon found Millie’s promise ring.
“Should I keep trying the safe?” Derek asked as Gordon closed the box.
“No, this should be everything we need.”
Gordon stood up, holding the bag of drives and the box, which he then handed off to Derek.
“What do I need to do?” Derek questioned with an amount of inner strength which surprised Gordon.
“I’ll take you to Jones. Tell him you found them and have brought them to him to support your story. Then tell Jones what happened to Millie; don’t leave a single detail out.”
“What do I say about you?”
“Tell them I came to see you and that shortly after I entered the house your father’s goons attacked us. It’s mostly true.”
“Can we be sure that Jones isn’t… I don’t know… on Dad’s payroll?”
“He has cops working for him?”
“I don’t know but he’s a powerful man.”
“Jones is trustworthy; if
anyone can get you through this other than me, it’ll be Jones.”
As Gordon finished speaking his phone began to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID.
“Speak of the devil.” Gordon commented as he answered it. “Jones, we’ve found the evidence. I’m bringing Derek in now and he’s going to make an official statement.”
“Great, but we’ve got another problem.” Jones told him hurriedly.
“Which is?”
“Weller heard a missing person’s report that’s got people throwing a fit; young woman, blonde, pretty, gone missing after a night of partying yesterday.”
“You brought Weller into this?” Gordon asked incredulously.
“I didn’t have much choice in the matter. Once we caught Isabelle’s case, Weller caught on to what I was really looking into.”
“Does she know you’re helping me?”
“Yeah.”
“Great. Where was this missing girl last seen?”
“Leaving a club. The victim is a Vicky O’Neil and a witness saw her getting into a black SUV but the witness didn’t get the license plate or a look at the driver.”
“Anything special about the victim? Does she have some connection to the Leland’s?”
“She’s a legal secretary at her father’s firm. Ask Derek if he knows her.” Jones suggested.
Gordon turned to look at Derek who was standing expectantly by the safe.
“Do you know Vicky O’Neil?”
“Uh, is her father Paul O’Neil?” Derek questioned in return.
Gordon relayed this question and Jones confirmed that he was.
“He’s a friend of Dad’s, or at least an acquaintance. They met recently because Dad is thinking about changing his legal team.”
“Did you get that?” Gordon asked Jones.
“Yeah. He’s been a very careful monster up until now; why would he go after a victim whose father belongs to his circle of friends and acquaintances?”
His Twisted Smile Page 19
