Handcuffs and Roses

by Laura Hammond

  "First of all, I've got a better description than the one we have circulating right now.” Lisa announced sliding the sketch across his desk.

  "Actually, Chief can I have that?” James interrupted, reaching for the sketch. “Just need to make a copy. We're going to need it. Is the production filming today? If so where? After the hospital I think we should pay Sandra Levenson another visit."

  "I'm not sure, but I can call her and find out where they are and see if she can spare some time to talk to you."

  "Ok.” James opened the door and called to Sara, Willard's blonde, semi Goth attired secretary who was now at her desk munching on a bagel. “Hey, Sara, love, can you do me a small favour and make me a copy of this?"

  "Sure Detective,” she grinned, flirtatiously, “and do I get bragging rights to say I got ya into my bed?'

  "I taught you were into girls?"

  "Yeah. There's always a first time to try batting for the other team,” she continued, playfully batting her black mascared eye-lashes.

  "How about I bring you back a jumbo Second Cup Moccachino Latte when I get back from questioning someone, huh?” He had gotten used to the women, straight and bi hitting on him, along with gay men. In college, it was great; every man's fantasy, but the thrill had long disappeared after he had discovered the darker, erotic thrill of BDSM and now plain vanilla sex left him cold and unfulfilled. He had experimented once with a gay BDSM session and decided it wasn't for him after all. Since then he had learned to deflect the advances with an easy charm that left no one feeling offended, unless they wouldn't take ‘no’ for an answer.

  "Yeah, I never say no to anything with chocolate. I'll hold you to that Detective McGuinn.” Sara took the sketch and went to find the nearest photocopier. Meanwhile, James closed the door and Lisa continued filling in Willard on what went on in the interrogation room.

  "Yes, Dowd was in on the kidnapping. While he didn't verbalize it, I was able to pick up that they both planned to kidnap Sandra Levenson at some point as well, and possibly torture her before murdering her. The woman has it in with a vengeance for her and she's not going to stop trying even though Dowd's in custody.

  "Chief, Dowd may come across as a not too intelligent racist pig, but he's a true match for Darlene ... that's the name of the woman. In tandem, they'll prove to be more dangerous than Paul Bernardo and Karla Homolka He's as evil as they come.” Lisa shuddered. “There's a lot more that I picked up while probing around in that quagmire he calls a brain, but I want to be sure before revealing it all. I'll fill you in tomorrow. Is there any chance of your arranging for me to get a hold of his cell phone? He said that it was taken from him by the guards when they took him to Don Jail. Oh, here is his number. He had a call from her last Friday around 16:00hrs. His carrier is Bell Mobility. Hopefully, by the time we get back Forensics would have been able to track down the phone number and address for the elusive Darlene. However, I do need the phone or something else he's touched, because I'd rather not be in the same room with him again."

  A knock sounded on the door, before Sara opened it and handed the copy and Lisa's original sketch back to James.

  "Thanks love,” he smiled.

  "And don't you forget that Moccachino latte you promised me now."

  "Don't worry Sara dear, I won't let him.” Lisa promised. She had learned a long time ago that one should always be nice to Chief's secretary, especially if one needed any clerical favours done.

  "By the way Chief, is there a spare unmarked car we can take?” James asked. “I really don't want to take my pride and joy into some unsavoury neighbourhood, which I don't doubt we may have to venture into once we have Darlene's address."

  "Yes, you can get the key from Sara on your way out."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AFTER QUESTIONING the thoroughly shaken up Joe Graziano at the hospital and ascertaining that the woman in the sketch was the one who indeed suffocated Lenny Golding last night, James’ cell phone rang. It was Chief calling to notify him that Sandra Levenson was off work that day. He and Lisa could pay her a visit, but not until later in the evening. In the meantime, an address had been found for Darlene, which was given to him, while an All Points Bulletin had been put out on her. They followed the lead to a dingy pay-by-the week boarding house in Parkdale.

  "Oh boy, I'm I ever happy you decided to take an unmarked police vehicle instead of using your own car or mine for that matter.” Lisa remarked when she realized they were going.

  "Tell me about it. At least if this old beast gets broken into, it's covered, it's no big deal."

  James parked the car on the street and he and Lisa got out, slamming the doors shut behind them. Lisa tripped over a snow bank on the sidewalk and would have fallen headlong onto the wet slushy pavement had James not caught her in time.

  "Thanks,” she breathed and just for a moment their eyes met, and she realized that something in her had changed towards him ... the connection she already felt had deepened and she was sure he could hear her heart jack-hammering against her ribs. The answering heated intensity in his gaze didn't help to alleviate the tension she felt now. Oh dear lord, this wasn't supposed to happen.

  "Are you all right?” James asked softly, “didn't sprain anything did you?” Releasing her, he glanced down at her feet encased in high-heeled black leather boots. “How the heck are you supposed to run in those things woman, if we have to chase someone? Mind you they do look quite sexy and inviting to anyone with a boot fetish, but not very practical.... “It was all James could do to keep his own feelings of desire laced with tension under a tight leash now, and Lisa was immensely thankful for the diversion to more practical matters just then.

  "I usually keep a pair of runners in my car, but we were in such a hurry after leaving Chief's office that I didn't think to go down to the garage and get them out. But don't worry gorgeous, I can hold my own if we end up in a situation,” she lightly tapped his cheek. “Come on let's go and do what we came here for.” Lisa lead the way to the decrepit boarding house gingerly navigating the steps that hadn't been cleared of snow, up to a porch that was cluttered with snow covered junk.

  She pressed the doorbell and within a couple minutes the door was opened, and the stench of a myriad of stale odours; cigarettes mixed with beer along with a few other unidentifiable ones escaping from inside hit her like sledgehammer, almost making her want to retch. The slovenly, balding, walking heart attack that stood at the door smoking a reefer, didn't help matters much either.

  "Yeah?” he grunted.

  "Detectives McGuinn and Mayne.” Lisa and James flashed their badges, choosing to ignore the man's possession of marijuana, since due to the medical marijuana controversy the law had been relaxed to allow people to possess small amounts of the stuff for personal use. However, the full decriminalization of marijuana that was bandied around by the Federal Government hadn't happened yet, and it didn't look like it was going to either. Much to the chagrin and distaste of liberal minded Canadians, the Republican administration south of the border was sticking its nose where it didn't belong and pressuring the Canadian government to not pursue that route, or it could create major hassles for Canadians at border crossings, along with a few other political backlashes.

  "Does this woman live here?” Lisa showed the sketch to the man.

  "Yeah, what's in it fer me if I tell ya?"

  "Look here smart ass,” James growled, “We can arrest you for obstruction of justice, not to mention possession of a controlled substance."

  "Look man, I..I got permission to have this stuff. I ... I g.got a medical condition.” The man sputtered nervously. “That's Darlene Levenson. Yeah, I rented a room to ‘er, but I'ven't seen ‘er in ‘bout a week, and she's late on ‘er rent.

  "Did you say her name was Levenson?” Lisa asked, glancing at James. “Are you thinking what I am right now?” He nodded the affirmative.

  "Yeah, that's the name she gimme when she moved in.” The slovenly landlord affirmed.

 
; "Mind if we check her room?"

  "Be my guest. What she done?"

  "Murder,” James answered.

  "Oh shit."

  Fatso moved aside to let them in and showed them upstairs to what had been Darlene's room, the same dingy one Lisa had seen when she had the first dream pertaining to this case. It was now empty of any personal effects, and only indication that someone had occupied it, was the unmade bed. She and James checked the closet, dressing table and just about every inch of the room for anything personal she might have left behind.

  "This bitch is beginning to piss me off royally. She's not going to make it easy for me.” Lisa grumbled, stomping out of the room in frustration and back down the stairs, with James following.

  "Did she ever have any visitors while she lived here?” James asked the landlord.

  "Nah. She pretty much kept to ‘erself. Didn't see no one, didn't talk to no one, except once one o’ the other residents said she saw her down at the Pizza Pizza joint on Queen, talkin’ to one o’ these skin head types. She remembered ‘im ‘cause he had a swastika tattooed on the side of ‘is head an’ the mark of the devil on the other, and he had this really mean look ‘bout him."

  "We already know who that is.” Lisa remarked in a droll voice to James. “Thanks for your time,” she said to the fat landlord and she and James left the boarding house.

  "Whatever,” Fatso shrugged indifferently, closing the door behind them.

  "Since we are not too far from it, I want to go back to the warehouse.” She said to James as they got back into the car.

  "What do you hope to find there?” He looked curiously at her.

  "I don't know, but hopefully she might have left something that she touched...."

  "You're forgetting that there is work going on there, and forensics didn't find anything...."

  "I know but something is just telling me to go back and take one more look in the warehouse in the area where we found Shira ... just a gut feeling ... hopefully not just wishful thinking."

  "All right, you're the psychic one here, and so far you've proven quite credible."

  "Do I detect a note of patronization McGuinn?"

  "Nope, just an observation on my part. Even if I may not completely understand it and though it may make me little uncomfortable at times, I do respect your ability ... but I've already told you that."

  "Thanks James,"

  "For what?"

  "Being honest about how you feel about my ability."

  "Well, if I weren't, I sense you'd probably break your word and probe my mind and learn every one of my dirty little secrets.” He chuckled, “and I just can't have that. Some things have to remain sacred."

  "Yes they do."

  "Are you for real woman? You're sure you're not going to turn into one of those nosy lovers who'll go through my pockets when I'm asleep, looking for other women's numbers?” James teased.

  "In your bloody dreams, McGuinn,” Lisa deadpanned. “Besides, if I'm forced to resort to doing that with a man I'm involved with, then he's not worth keeping. There are just too many fish in the sea for me to degrade myself that way."

  "And I sure as hell wouldn't want you to either. If there is no trust between a couple then they have no business being together.” James glanced speculatively at her for a moment, seeing her in an entirely new light. Here was a woman who could hold her own, was independent, strong and smart, someone who wouldn't be prone to jealous tantrums like some of his other lovers in the past. Strong, yet she was able to let herself be vulnerable; gave herself over in total surrender to him when they played last night, holding nothing back. The kind of woman he considered a keeper. These things he sensed, but they had only known each other for two weeks although to him it felt like a lifetime, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to be with her. It alternately frightened and excited him, and he knew he could hardly wait to have her bound and at his mercy again in his playroom or bed. Down boy James silently chided himself.

  Lisa sensed what he was thinking and was secretly thrilled to her very bones, but right now they had a job to do and who knew when they would get a chance to play again. Suddenly she could hardly wait to get this case solved and have that month off that Chief had promised her. “The old silver devil had better keep his promise...” she more or less muttered to herself.

  "What are you talking about?

  "Oh, I was just thinking about how I wish we could solve this case very soon, so I can have that month off that Chief promised me."

  "You mean I'll get you for a whole month, uninterrupted? Hmmm, I wonder if I can handle it?” James joked.

  "Unsure of yourself, McGuinn?” She baited.

  "Not a chance in hell.” He responded in the same vein, but inside his heart told a different story.

  "Ahh, what a marvellous aphrodisiac! A man who is completely sure of himself. Almost better than chocolate,” she teased.

  "Trust me darlin’ my spanking your pretty ass until your swimming cunt explodes over and over with unbearable ecstasy is way better than the rich sweet brown stuff any day, and I'll be happy to prove it you again."

  "Come on James, it's not fair to fair to tempt me like that when you know it's impossible to do anything about it right now.” Lisa complained, while her whole body tingled as visions of being tightly roped into some uncomfortable position as he whipped her, made her cream her jeans now, and she shivered with the sheer anticipation of it.

  "Ohh, I think it's entirely fair sweetheart. How else can I expect to lure you back into my den of inequity, unless I tempt you with the untold delights that await you? Think of the building anticipation.” He mused. “But reluctantly I must concede to more serious matters at hand."

  Changing the topic back to work, Lisa said, “Darlene gave her last name as Levenson at the boarding house. From the very first dream I had of this case when I saw her in that dingy room, I got a feeling that she might be a relative of Sandra's. Think it could be a sister? She doesn't bear much of a resemblance to the TV star."

  "I guess we'll find out soon enough after we talk to Sandra Levenson again. Anyway, we're here.” He parked close to the warehouse, got out of the car with her and together they walked over to the security office.

  "Yes, can I help you?” A thirty-something, attractive security guard sitting behind the desk asked as they entered the office. In corner on the right hand side was a portable seven inch TV on which someone was getting bleeped out every nanosecond, obviously swearing like trucker and throwing a chair across the room on the Jerry Springer show.

  James flashed his badge. “We're from Metro Toronto PD, Detectives McGuinn and Mayne. We need access to the warehouse again."

  "You were the ones that found that little kid in there, right? How is she?"

  "She died in the hospital.” Lisa answered in a rather subdued voice.

  "I'm sorry. My wife and I have a little girl that age and I sure wouldn't want anything happening to her. It's too bad what happened with Lenny too. He's a good guy and I hope he recovers soon."

  "I'm sorry but Lenny wouldn't be returning to work. He was murdered last night. We think she might have done it because he was one of the few people we know of who saw her up close enough to give a description of her.” James told him.

  "Hell man, I hope you guys find this bitch real soon.” The security guard said as he reached for the ring of keys that contained the one to main entrance of the warehouse.

  "So do we man,” James said, taking the ring of keys that the guard passed to him. “Which one was it again?"

  "Number 723."

  "Thanks. She wouldn't have come back here by any chance would she?” Lisa asked.

  "Even if she did, there's no way she'd gain access. The property management have insisted that all the doors be locked since the site is still designated a crime scene. So there hasn't been any work done in that area where you found the child, far as I know."

  "I take it that you do rounds in there, have you come acros
s anything, say, articles out of the ordinary?"

  "Just pieces of a smashed cell phone outside of the taped off crime scene, earlier today. I don't know why I didn't notice them before. Then I figured the phone could probably belong to one of the construction workers."

  "Do you still have the pieces?” Lisa asked hopefully.

  "Sure, they're in there, knock yourself out.” The guard gave her the small wastebasket which thankfully contained only the pieces of the broken mobile and no other distasteful material like wet tissues and dirty coffee cups with liquid still in them. Those always grossed Lisa out whenever she was forced to conduct any such searches. She turned the basket over and deposited the pieces on the floor, then reached into her pocket for a pair of latex gloves she always carried, but found they were not there. Damn, they're in my other coat.

  "Do you have some Kleenex or paper towels?’ She asked the guard.

  "Yeah, hold on.” He drew a few sheets of Kleenex tissues out of a box from behind the desk and handed them to her.

  "Thanks.” Lisa, using a sheet of tissue to guard against getting her fingerprints on the article, gingerly picked up the piece that contained the name and number display and immediately received a flash of the woman in black flinging it against the wall in a rage.

  Lisa looked up at James and nodded. “It's hers."

  "Still want to take a look around anyway?"

  "I think we should. You never know what else we might find."

  He reached into his jacket and took out a small Ziploc baggie and gave it to her to put the broken cell phone pieces into it. “I always walk with a few of these, for occasions such as this."

  "So do I, but I forgot to take them along with the latex gloves out of my other coat. I could almost kiss you for that McGuinn,” Lisa grinned, gingerly placing the pieces into the bag which she then placed into the inner pocket of her leather blazer jacket.

  "Careful Mayne, I might pick you up on that,” James responded in the same vein. Then he turned to the guard. “Thanks man."

  "No problem."