All The Dead Girls

by Tim Kizer

  He probably has tuberculosis, Steven thought.

  Steven looked around once again, then shut the door, and started the engine. He felt purified.

  CHAPTER 26

  1.

  "I told you we’d meet again, and here I am." Pryor smiled. "I’ll try to make it short. Did I interrupt anything important?"

  "No, you didn't". Richard shook his head.

  "How is Kathy? Unfortunately, I haven’t had time to visit her in the hospital."

  "She's doing fine. They’re discharging her in a couple of days."

  "Great. I have good news, Mister Brower. We found the knife used in the attack on Kathy.”

  “I’m glad to hear that."

  "We found it forty feet away from where Kathy was attacked. He must have dropped it as he ran away." Pryor crossed his legs. “It’s a major breakthrough for us. I believe we are very close to catching the perpetrator."

  "Did you find his fingerprints on the knife?"

  "We sure did. He left three fingerprints on the handle.” Pryor’s eyes were shining with satisfaction. “Major, major breakthrough.”

  "Congratulations. Do you know his name?”

  “Not yet. We’re still working on it.”

  “I wish you good luck.” Richard looked at his watch, giving the detective a hint that he should wrap it up.

  “Are you going out of town in the near future?"

  "I might, but I don’t have any plans at the moment.”

  “Where do you think you might go?”

  Richard shrugged. “I may go to California for a few days.”

  “California." Pryor laced his hands in his lap, and said, "Let’s get back to the fingerprints. There’s something I’d like to tell you. Do you remember I asked you if you’d seen the assailant’s knife?"

  "Yes, I remember that."

  "You said that you hadn't seen it."

  "That’s right.”

  After a hesitation, the detective said, "I wasn’t completely honest with you when I said that we didn’t know whose fingerprints were on the knife. The odd thing is that the fingerprints belong to you, Mister Brower."

  A long silence followed. Richard's heart began pounding as the meaning of the detective’s words sank into his brain. He wanted to believe he had misheard Pryor.

  "What do you mean?" he asked at last.

  "We found your fingerprints on the handle of the knife, Richard." Pryor's face was serene, as if he were talking about the weather. “I should mention that there were no other fingerprints on the knife."

  "It's impossible." Richard drew his eyebrows together.

  "Now you understand why I asked you if you’d seen the knife.”

  Richard nodded. It seemed that Detective Pryor wasn’t a blithering idiot after all.

  “I was a little surprised when you said that you hadn’t seen it.” Pryor tapped his foot on the floor. “I wonder how your fingerprints got there.”

  After a short pause, Richard asked, "And what conclusion do you draw from this?"

  The detective shrugged. "I don't know what to think, Richard. It’s a complicated matter. I have to keep in mind that you’re a close friend of Kathy's."

  "Do you think I have anything to do with it?"

  Pryor gave Richard a curious look. "I’m not accusing you of anything, if that’s what you’re asking. I don't suspect you of attacking Ms. Brown. However, I must point out that I can’t ignore facts. As they say, facts are stubborn things. Do you have any idea how your fingerprints got on the knife?”

  Richard shook his head. “No, I have no idea how my fingerprints got there. Let me tell you this: my fingerprints can’t be on that knife. It must be a mistake."

  "It’s not a mistake, I assure you. All analysis results have been checked and rechecked. The fingerprints on the knife are yours, and the blood belongs to Kathy."

  "I didn't stab her.” Richard swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

  "I'm not saying you did."

  "What are you going to do now?"

  "I'll analyze the facts and see where they lead us."

  Richard drew a deep breath. "I don't understand it. The knife, the fingerprints. It's so strange."

  "It's a riddle to me, too."

  "I have nothing to do with this crime."

  He was in a tricky situation. On the one hand, he couldn’t be silent while his innocence was questioned, but on the other hand, he had to make sure he didn’t seem to be protesting too much.

  "I'm not accusing you of anything, Mister Brower."

  "Are you going to look for other suspects?"

  "Of course we are. That's our job." Pryor paused. "I hate to ask you about this, but I need to know. Your wife died recently, didn’t she?"

  "Yes, she did. She died in a car accident."

  "But before that she left you, didn't she?"

  Richard gave Pryor a studying look. What was the detective getting at? What did Mary’s death have to do with Kathy?

  "She didn't leave me. She went missing," he replied.

  "Well, that’s what you thought. I read the case file. You reported her missing, and about four weeks later she died in a car crash."

  "Do we have to talk about it?" Richard asked with a grim expression on his face.

  "I’m sorry. I understand that you’re still heartbroken.” Pryor tilted his head to the side. “I wonder why she left you."

  "I told you Mary didn’t leave me. She went missing."

  "All right. I wonder why she ran away.”

  "I don’t know. What does it matter anyway? I thought the case is closed." Richard frowned. He couldn't wait for the detective to leave.

  "Yes, the case is closed. For now." Pryor paused. "Did you see her dead body?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "Did you notice that it was badly disfigured?"

  "Yes. Her body was burned up."

  "Robert Logan identified the body as that of his sister, Mary Brower."

  "That’s correct."

  Pryor’s lips stretched in a thin smile. "Please bear with me, Mister Brower. I'm thinking aloud here.”

  “No problem.”

  "You probably wonder why your wife went missing, where she stayed and who she was with all that time. You also must be curious who wrote the anonymous letter that accused you of Mary’s murder. I believe these are important questions. It's a pity that we’ll most likely never get the answers to them."

  "I suppose you’re right."

  "Have you already contacted the insurance company?"

  "What insurance company?"

  "Your wife’s life was insured, wasn't it?"

  Richard shook his head. "No, it wasn’t."

  "Is it possible that Mary insured her life without telling you about it?”

  Richard thought for a moment and nodded. “I suppose it is.”

  “I’d look into that if I were you.” The detective began tapping his foot on the floor. “By the way, what do you think about Robert Logan? How would you describe his relationship with his sister?"

  "As far as I know, they were on good terms."

  Pryor made a humming sound, and asked, “How often do you see Mister Logan?"

  "Every other week."

  "Every other week. I wouldn’t call it often.”

  “I agree with you.”

  “This means you could be wrong about their relationship.”

  “Yes, I could be wrong.”

  “Have you ever seen them fight?"

  "No, I haven’t. Bob is a calm person. But I could be wrong.”

  Richard was getting curious about where Pryor was going with this.

  "Is it possible that there were conflicts between Mary and her brother?”

  Richard furrowed his forehead, pretending to mull over Pryor’s question. "Yes, it is. But I’m sure they didn’t hate each other."

  “You can never be sure about things like this. Unless you can read minds. There are a lot of siblings who hate each other.”

  "Tha
t’s probably true.”

  "Here’s an interesting fact: most homicide victims are killed by people they know. Husbands kill their wives, wives kill their husbands, brothers kill their sisters, sisters kill their brothers, and so on and so forth. The harsh reality is that arguments between relatives often lead to murder."

  After a pause, Richard asked, "What does it have to do with your investigation?"

  “Nothing. I just thought you’d be interested to hear my theory regarding your wife’s case.”

  Richard raised his chin and kept silent for a moment. Then he said, “Yes, sure.”

  He figured that his safest option under the circumstances was to indulge the detective. He was not going to make waves.

  "What do you think could have caused Mary to conflict with her brother?"

  "I have no clue, to be honest with you."

  "Do you think Robert Logan is capable of blackmail?"

  "Capable of what?"

  "Blackmail."

  "Who could he blackmail?"

  "Well, as I just said, people often commit crimes against their siblings."

  "Are you saying Bob blackmailed Mary?"

  "It's possible. The question is: what did he have on her?"

  "I have no idea. Honestly, I don’t think Mary has ever done anything illegal."

  "It doesn’t have to be an illegal act. You’d be surprised what kind of things people are blackmailed for. Adultery, sexual orientation, sex tapes, and so forth. Robert could have been blackmailing his sister, Mary could have been blackmailing her brother. I’m not ruling out anything at this point."

  "No, Mary wouldn’t blackmail anyone."

  Richard glanced at his watch. They had been talking for almost half an hour now.

  "Don’t be so sure, Richard.” Pryor folded his arms on his chest. “What I’m trying to do here is make you realize that Robert Logan was involved in this."

  It looked like Pryor had read his letter about Bob. Why had the detective bothered to read it? Perhaps he had too much spare time on his hands.

  “Involved in Mary’s death?”

  “Yes.”

  "How exactly was he involved?”

  “He killed her.”

  Richard gave Pryor a stunned look. “Bob killed Mary? Why would he do that?”

  Was Pryor going to reopen Mary's case? Did he think that the dead woman Bob had identified as Mary was not Mary?

  “That’s an important question. Here’s my theory. Let’s suppose Robert found out that your wife was cheating on you, and decided to blackmail her."

  "Mary wasn’t cheating on me.”

  "Let’s assume for a moment that she was.”

  Richard hesitated, and said, “All right.”

  “Robert believed that you would divorce Mary if you knew that she was cheating. And Mary didn’t want you to divorce her. Are you a jealous man?"

  Richard shook his head. “No.”

  “But you appreciate faithfulness in a woman, don’t you?"

  “Yes.”

  “In the months before your wife went missing, did she ask you for large amounts of money? I mean larger than usual."

  "No, she didn’t.”

  “She didn’t ask you for money to buy a new dress or something like that?"

  “No.”

  "As far as I know, Mary withdrew ten thousand dollars from her bank account two weeks ago."

  "Yes, she did withdraw ten grand."

  "Where do you think this money went?"

  "I have no idea."

  "I think it went to Robert Logan."

  “Do you think Mary paid Bob to keep his mouth shut?"

  "Yes, that’s exactly what I think. Would you say that Mary’s life with you was pretty comfortable, that you were a good provider for her?”

  “Yes, I would.”

  “Well, then it’s reasonable to assume that Mary would pay Bob to prevent a divorce.”

  Richard was silent for a long moment and then said, “That’s an interesting theory.”

  “It might be more than just a theory.”

  Having nothing to say, Richard interlaced his hands and started rubbing his thumbs together.

  Should he be worried if the police reopened Mary’s case? He believed that he shouldn’t.

  “Here’s where I’m going with this,” Pryor continued. “I’m trying to establish the motive.”

  “The motive for what?”

  “For Bob killing Mary.” Pryor cocked his head. “Whose idea was it to cremate Mary’s body?”

  “It was my idea.”

  “I see.”

  After a short silence, Richard asked, “So are you going to reopen Mary’s case?"

  "Yes, I’m considering it."

  "And you believe that Bob killed Mary?"

  "That's correct."

  "Why did he kill her? She paid him, didn’t she?"

  "One fine day Mary said that she was not going to pay any more, and Logan got angry. They might have quarreled , then she struck him, he struck back and in the end killed her."

  "When are you going to unclose the case?"

  "As soon as I 'm finished with Kathy's case."

  CHAPTER 27

  1.

  "Please calm down, Mrs. Becker,” Norris said. “We'll find your daughter, I promise." He clenched his fists under the table.

  He had been talking to this old bitch for half an hour now, and she had already begun to annoy him. He was ready to call her names. He would gladly do it if she didn't get out of here in five minutes. He didn’t care about consequences since he wasn’t going to stay at this sheriff’s department much longer. He would leave Washington when he was finished with Richard Brower. He didn’t like Washington; it was too boring for his taste.

  "I promise we'll do our best to find her."

  He had already stopped listening to this annoying bitch. Odds were Mrs. Becker’s twenty-six-year-old daughter had fucked the wrong guy and now was lying at the bottom of a lake with a weight attached to her body or in a shallow grave somewhere in the woods.

  Mrs. Becker spoke for half a minute, and when she was done, Steven nodded, staring at her sympathetically.

  "Goodbye, Mrs. Becker,” he said. “Everything will be all right."

  Why the hell had they let this old hag in here?

  He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. When the woman left the room, he let out an irritated sigh and murmured, “Fucking cunt.”

  He didn’t like old people. They were arrogant, had a high sense of entitlement, and were convinced they were always right. In this, they were similar to little children, whom Norris didn’t like, either.

  Steven looked up at the ceiling, then closed his eyes. He had already had plenty of fun. It was time to wrap this thing up and tear this cocksucker’s heart out. The grand finale was just days away.

  2.

  The avengers.

  The avengers were insane. The avengers were relentless. They had gotten to his sister. They had stolen Laura from him.

  It was the avengers who had planted the jar with fingers Laura found in his garage. What better way to turn sister against brother than to expose him as a deranged serial killer?

  They were good at manipulating and brainwashing people, there was no doubt about it.

  What other crazy ideas had the avengers put into Laura’s head? Had they managed to persuade her of the virtue of human sacrifice? Perhaps they had.

  Laura might have been thinking of killing him to punish him for the brutal murders she believed he had committed.

  If it hadn’t been for the avengers, Laura would be alive today. Yes, he was the one who caused her death, but it was an accident. He had never wanted to kill Laura.

  Richard switched on the TV and turned up the volume. He had drunk a glass of gin twenty minutes ago, and now he felt the alcohol begin to calm his nerves.

  So they had found a knife with his fingerprints.

  This raised a question… Actually, it raised several questions. A wh
ole bunch of them!

  First, where had this damn knife come from?

  Richard buried his face in a sofa pillow. It was soft and cool.

  He did not know where the knife had come from. He did not know how his fingerprints gotten on the knife. How would he know that if he had nothing to do with the attack on Kathy?

  The knife used to stab Kathy had his fingerprints. What did that mean?

  Richard noticed that his entire body was dripping with sweat, as though he were in a sauna. He took off his shirt and pants and tossed them on a chair.

  What he needed to do right now was to calm down. He was already doing it. To calm down, pull himself together, and mull over the situation in a leisurely manner.

  So what had happened?

  The police had found a knife near the Welleses' house, which they believed belonged to the person that had attacked Kathy. There were his fingerprints on the knife.

  It was difficult to argue with the claim that the knife had been used to stab Kathy, because, first, it had been found in the vicinity of the crime scene, and second, it had Kathy's blood on it.

  Since there were Richard Brower's fingerprints on its handle, the knife must have been in Richard Brower's hand at some point before or after the attack. The cops were known for their tendency to interpret things in the most negative way possible, so there was a high probability that the police believed that it was his knife and that he was the one who had attacked Kathy Brown and killed those other women.

  How the hell had his fingerprints ended up on the knife?

  Had he attacked Kathy? No, of course not! If he had, he would have remembered it. Things like that were hard to forget. Then why were there his fingerprints on the knife?

  If the police suspected him of committing this crime, why hadn't they arrested him? They had enough evidence to get a conviction, at least in Kathy’s case.

  Maybe Pryor hoped to find evidence linking him to the murders of those five women?

  Richard emitted a groan. It was not a dream, it was happening to him here and now! And he was unable to prove his innocence.

  He jumped up from the sofa and headed to the study to go on the Internet and find out when the previous victims had been killed, but quickly realized that it was useless. What difference did it make when they had been killed? He wouldn't be able to prove his alibi anyway. He had no alibi because too much time had passed since the murders and he had already forgotten where he had been at a particular moment on a particular day. Neither he nor anybody else remembered that.