by LS Sygnet
"That's insane."
"I never thought that there were more murder victims. It never occurred to me to scour missing person's records for girls who resembled Lowe's type. I'd be very interested in hearing what prompted you to do that."
"Two things," I murmured absently. "The amount of skill demonstrated in Brighton's murder and the enormous gap in time between when she was killed and Gwen Foster died. She was so far outside his preferential norm, I almost dismissed the connection between the cases."
"So in other words, you thought he was too proficient with Brighton for it to be his first time."
"Yes."
"And you couldn't believe that someone that violent could go fifteen years without feeding his addiction."
"Not unless he was dead or incarcerated – which Foster proved wasn't the case. I had to believe incarceration would've been a stressor great enough that he would've let something slip about other crimes he committed. Either way, it ruled out both possibilities."
"And these guys are really that bound to a type that it was unusual for him to go after Gwen?"
"It didn't fit at first," I said. "If we didn't have all of this physical evidence, we'd have nothing but a lot of suspicion and no way to prove what he's done, Orion. His home movie collection makes a confession moot, but I'm sure his lawyer will argue that you can't really see Lowe through his mask."
His arms snaked around my waist and pulled my back against his chest. Lips brushed my neck. "Are we back to this Orion business again?"
"We're on the job. Don't get personally involved with people you work with. Sage advice from my mentor."
Orion let me go, and I was surprised to realize how much I missed the warmth. No matter. The lights of the crime scene vehicles shone like beacons through the perpetual fog. I needed to organize thoughts and determine the best possible approach when I sat down with Lowe. The clock was ticking, and I had no idea what I could say to pull him into the light of truth, because own it or not, my conscience really needed to hear Jerry Lowe tell me why.
Chapter 40
OSI's building was situated outside the city limits of Downey. It was shared with the state police, a reasonable arrangement since OSI was actually part of the state police force. The sprawling facility was a single story with a central hub and tentacles that stretched away from the body of the building to smaller hexagonal pods.
Chris Darnell, or more aptly Orion, had a single pod dedicated to OSI's needs. I expected Orion to pass me off to some state officer, in a crisp black uniform with a swath of slate gray bisecting the sides of the pants. Their badges were different from Orion's too, five point stars that reminded me of old west sheriff badges. One of the officers responsible for evidence approached, straightened to military posture and saluted.
"Not necessary," Orion chuckled. "Dr. Eriksson and I are heading out to OSI now. Process this scene and take everything out to headquarters. Chris will handle the media and CSD from Darkwater."
He led me to the car and opened the door.
"I thought you couldn't be part of this, Orion. And your cover can't be too deep if all these officers know who you are."
"Everyone associated with OSI passed a rigorous vetting process. Most of them are so loyal to Chris, you'd think this was still his Marine unit. They understand the stakes, Doc. My secret is safe with them."
I hadn't given him a similar assurance, and wasn't about to do it yet.
"So how is this going to happen? You're gonna drop me off and disappear?"
"OSI's section at the state police building is unique. I can enter and exit without being seen by anyone. There's a basement access with a private staircase that leads directly to my office."
"Your office."
"Technically, it's the one Chris uses to maintain the façade that he's running the operation. Chris primarily manages administrative things that I have neither the time or patience to deal with. He'll get us to interrogation without anyone from Central Division knowing you're alive. You can talk to the suspects, arrest whom you will, and I can observe."
"I need to tell Charlie I'm alive."
"After everything else is done. Zack Carpenter is going to meet us at OSI. I doubt you've met him yet. Chris also called George Hardy and Donald Weber. Maya already faxed her preliminary findings that identified Rodney Martin and Matt Rogers. Everything is ready for you to do your thing."
"This isn't normally what I do," I confessed. "I don't conduct interrogations or arrest suspects, Orion. I haven't been trained to –"
"Bullshit. I'm well aware of the training you received at Quantico. Just because your brilliant mentor David Levine never required you to interrogate anyone doesn't mean you're not a natural. You handled me like a pro, and I watched you extract the truth out of Dennis Bennett. You'll do fine."
"What if I screw it up?"
Orion's eyes pierced the darkness. "Seriously? Self doubt from you?"
"I don't want to end up with a reputation like yours."
"Ouch. Point taken. Yet I have faith in your abilities. You completely convinced me of your dedication to see this through. Lowe might think he's a match for you, but he's not."
"And still I fell into his trap."
He didn't argue. It was apparently a sore spot despite my explanation of how that happened.
At OSI, I met Zack Carpenter and received assurances from Darnell that no one present in the building would see me until I was ready to reveal the truth. Through a maze of hallways, I was lead from Orion's office to the room where through a door left ajar, Lowe sat. I heard his smooth voice talking to someone.
"I've already told you everything I know," he sneered. "You should be talking to Hardy and Weber, Detective Conall. They specifically cut me out of the loop of communications in this case, brought in their profiler from the FBI, and now she's dead. Do you suppose any of them might consider that had I known what any of them were doing, she might've survived this case?"
Bile bubbled up the back of my throat. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Orion take a threatening step in the direction of that door. I gripped his arm and shook my head.
Carpenter opened another door next to the one where Conall questioned Lowe and made a silent sweeping gesture. I followed Johnny inside where Chris Darnell stood with beefy arms folded across his chest staring through the two-way mirror.
Hardy and Weber's jaws dropped when they saw me follow Orion inside. He made a swift gesture – one finger pressed to his lips, and turned to me. "You ready, Doc?"
I dragged my lower lip between my teeth. Through the glass, Lowe looked cool, calm and in complete control. Would the sight of me, alive and well, rattle him enough to make him confess his crimes?
Orion's head tilted close to mine. "You were right earlier; we don't need a confession, Helen. We've got enough evidence to put him away for the rest of his life. A confession would be nice, but …"
He was right to remind me, of course. Part of my hesitation had little to do with the job. This man, this monster, was someone I thought might be a kindred spirit. Revulsion chilled my blood. My heart thudded heavily in my chest as it struggled to pump the cold sludge through my body. We are kindred spirits. How is what I did …?
"Helen?"
I blinked the doubts out of my eyes and glanced up at Orion.
"You can do this."
My spine stiffened. Of course, Orion was right. No amount of Dad's advice swirling in my head could strip me of the feeling that this was very personal to me – and not simply because I might well have been one of Lowe's victims.
But then the reason he had my blood clicked in my head. The son of a bitch didn't want to kill me, but setting me up for some crime certainly fit his psychopathy. Forsythe's details of Rodney Martin's house reverberated through memory. Two blood types. Gray matter. One wounded, one dead. Only I wasn't wounded, and I was certain they'd find EDTA in one of the blood samples.
I gritted my teeth. "I'm ready."
"Are you sure?" Carpenter
asked. "Once he realizes you're still alive, he's going to invoke his right to counsel."
"Let him," my smile was thin, as frigid as what flowed through my heart. "I won't ask him a single question, Mr. Carpenter. Like Orion said. I don't have to get a confession. But he wanted me here to match wits, so let him try."
I didn't knock, didn't hesitate. My hand pushed the door open, and Lowe stopped mid sentence while he berated Crevan Conall for the audacity to question his superior on anything. His jaw dropped.
"Surprise," I said softly.
Lowe covered smoothly and rose. "Helen! Thank God! I was told that the medical examiner found your body at the fire that destroyed a home in Beach Cliffs."
"Yes, I'm aware that was the story."
His eyes twitched for just a beat before he drew attention away from his expression by smoothing one hand down the necktie that bisected his crisp shirt. "As I said, I'm grateful that our medical examiner seems to be incompetent – in this instance, that is. There will be consequences for making such a grave mistake, let me assure you."
I smiled again, this one genuine. Lowe was entertaining as he scrambled for footing. "She didn't make a mistake, Jerry. In fact, she was simply following a directive given to flush out a guilty party. As it happens, the man who tried to kill me, tried to frame me for Rodney Martin's murder –"
"Frame you? Good God! Helen, surely you must be mistaken."
Crevan Conall stared up at me as though I'd lost my mind.
"I couldn't figure out why the blood samples were kept. Obviously they might've been trophies. But no, that's not what they were at all," I said softly. "It makes perfect sense to me. In a sort of weird, pathological killer sort of way, that blood was little more than an insurance policy. Only the presence of EDTA in the vials –"
Lowe's face flushed dark red before all color drained away and left him a pasty gray. He slumped back into his chair.
"Well, it served a purpose too, I suppose. It would be a colossal waste to let someone else get credit for such a brilliant, life-long serial killer's cunning, wouldn't it?" I circled the table and tapped one finger against my lips.
"Then you've solved your case?" Lowe waited for my second lap around the room to break the silence.
"Indeed I have."
"I see." He crossed his arms across his chest and smiled engagingly. "So who done it, Dr. Eriksson?"
I perched on the edge of the table and grinned. "You tell me."
"I was kept appallingly out of the loop, as you well know."
"I don't recall thanking you for the lovely lunch the other day. Zucchini frittata, if memory serves. And that nice white wine from Napa," I murmured. "Then again, I wasn't in any condition to be a gracious guest after the wine."
"Helen I'm not sure I know what you're –"
"Cut the crap, Lowe. I remember everything, the wine you served, the fact that Flynn Myre so conveniently was present while we were having lunch, just in case that little knock-out drug you slipped into my wine didn't do the job and I started to remember things, you could claim that Myre was the one who drugged me."
Lowe steepled his fingers and pressed them against his lips.
I turned to Conall. "I think Mr. Lowe –"
"Chief –" Lowe corrected with a low snarl.
"Mister Lowe ought to have his rights read to him now, Detective Conall."
Crevan's Adam's apple bobbed around his tight collar. "For what charge?"
I sighed. "Never mind. Jerry Lowe, you're under arrest for the murders of Gwen Bennett Foster and Candace Blevins and a score of other girls who have yet to be identified from the blood samples we got out of your office safe tonight. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you –"
"I know my rights," he growled, "and this is the most ridiculous travesty I've ever seen in my life! Only in Darkwater Bay."
"If this city has problems, Jerry, I'm sure we have you to thank for a great many of them." I stared at him hard. "The prosecutor might be inclined to deal if you confess what you've done."
"I've done nothing. You claim to have evidence obtained from my house. We'll see how well it stands up in court in a city where scum like Johnny Orion still roams the streets framing the innocent as the whim strikes him."
I leaned over and whispered softly, "Then you should've killed them all, Jerry. You should've never let them see your crime scene on wheels. Oh yes, we've got the crime scene, the succinylcholine, your video collection ... And we're only beginning to search for every last nail that I will personally hammer into your coffin, you son of a bitch.
"It's been a good game, Jerry, but it's time to face the truth now. You lose."
He smiled unabashedly. "You foolish woman. You have no idea what's going on in Darkwater Bay. You think you've solved everything tonight? Stick around, sweetheart. Things are about to get very interesting from here forward. I wasn't sure you'd be able to put it together. But I'm right. You are the one." He paused and laughed soflty. "What I wouldn't give to see all of this unfold."
The cryptic remark gave me pause. Clearly the only beginning was his crazy routine. I didn't doubt Lowe would angle for an insanity defense. Instead of feeding the gain he sought, I snorted derisively.
"Don't believe me, Helen? Well, it's understandable, when the truth is so obfuscated you don't know the good guys from the bad guys. As I said," he pressed his hands on the table and leaned forward. His eyes impaled Crevan for a moment before drifting up to do the same to me. Instead of finishing, he merely laughed maniacally.
"As you said what?" Crevan snarled succinctly.
He actually winked at Crevan. "Don't doubt that she'll figure it out, detective. Some secrets aren't meant to remain buried."
Chapter 41
When I rejoined the men in the observation room, Hardy and Weber looked utterly shaken. Don pulled me aside.
"Helen, do you think he's the one?"
"He's a cold blooded murderer, a serial killer and rapist."
"I meant about the other thing, with George and me."
"So far, we haven't uncovered any evidence, Chief Weber, but if it happens to come out in the trial, I'm afraid there's nothing I can do to control the fallout. Perhaps you and Commissioner Hardy should consider coming forward with whatever these circumstances are."
"We would be ruined, personally and professionally, Helen."
"Sometimes we have to take our punishments no matter how much we'd rather avoid them." Prophetic words, I feared. Agent Seleeby wasn't likely to let go of his suspicion of me. In more than one way, it was my fault. After all, I was the one who reminded him of my criminal birthright.
When it was all said and done, the charges filed, the arraignment held and bail denied, one less monster was on the street, even though he wouldn't confess. Lowe started playing the crazy card the second he was booked. And why not? The apple, as they say, never falls far from the tree. I should know.
Thus concluded my tenure as a detective with Darkwater Bay Police Department.
Theresa the bubbly realtor tersely informed me that since the house I leased with the option to buy was destroyed, that the seller would be opting to enforce the sale. Stuck with property without a dwelling, I debated whether to let it sit vacant or to rebuild. Considering that the property was overpriced to begin with, and the land being the major asset would be mine free and clear, the insurance money would cover the cost of a much grander home.
That didn't answer the queasy questions that roiled like time lapse clouds in my belly.
Did I want to retire in Darkwater Bay? Would I once again succumb to temptation to mete out my version of justice, this time to Danny Datello? How would anything less than nomadic life keep Seleeby off kilter in his quest to bring me to justice?
My head throbbed with indecision.
The knock at the seedy motel room door snapped me out of ten days of indecision. Darkwater Bay's gun ownership laws were far less strict than those in D.C. I pulled my weapon and approached the door warily.
"Who is it?"
"Johnny Orion, Tony Briscoe and Crevan Conall."
My headache multiplied by a factor of ten. I stuck the gun in the back of my jeans and opened the door. "What do you want?"
Orion sported mirrored sunglasses. The clouds had actually parted for once. He grinned at me. "Can we come in?"
"No."
"That's not very sociable of you, Doc. We're here with good news."
Crevan Conall's eyes drifted past me into the run-down digs I now called home, at least until my indecisive paralysis lifted. His nose wrinkled. "Maybe she doesn't have room for us inside, Johnny."
His snobbery irritated me. I stepped aside and waved them through the doorway. "What's this good news, Orion?"
The trash bin in the room was overflowing with wine bottles. All I'd done to spruce up the place and make it fit for temporary occupation was buy linens from the local Bed Bath and Beyond.
"Lowe's lawyer is pushing for a speedy trial," he said. "Zack asked us if you'd be available to testify in a few months."
"I'll call him with my email address so he can contact me with a specific date when he has it. That's probably the easiest way to reach me. Is that all?"
Briscoe cleared his throat. "We arrested Varden and Kelly. They wouldn't admit that Chief Lowe was the guy who hired them. They did have that computer you said got ripped off from your room at the Montcliff, so we got 'em on theft, breaking and entering, so forth."
No surprise there. Yet I still couldn't fathom anyone from the Marcos family – Datello included – who would use such inept, heavy handed thugs. The mob had achieved a new degree of sophistication with more subtle tactics brought by a younger generation of criminals. Varden and Kelly would never finger Lowe. Breaking and entering? Theft? Hardly crimes that would make men like those two sweat.
