by B. J. Woster
“You think that last find was easy?” Wilson blurted.
“Way harder than it should have been,” Cortez snapped. “We should have found Richardson easy, and if we had, this nut job would be out of our lives.”
“Yeah, but not out of commission altogether; he’d still be out there doing the same thing to precincts in other cities,” Hardwick replied sharply.
“Yeah, and I’d be shouting a good riddance and then happily send a ‘sorry that it’s your turn’ gift basket to the precinct that gets him next,” Cortez retorted.
“We all know it’s best if we’re the ones that nail him. We need this after the Richardson fiasco. The other precincts may have solved case number three in their jurisdiction, but they never caught the guy,” Hardwick countered.
“I don’t think they really tried,” Harding added. “Like us, I think they just wanted the guy gone; their cities returned to some sort of normalcy.”
“Do you remember how mad he got when I shifted the search focus to him?” Hardwick asked suddenly.
“Yeah, he was pissed all right,” Harding laughed. “I think you got too close for his comfort.”
“Precisely,” Hardwick replied thoughtfully.
“What are you thinking?” Wilson asked.
“I’m thinking we stop playing marionettes for this puppeteer. The next time he calls in, we go back to being detectives and we locate the perp. We stop him, we stop this insanity.”
“What about the victims?” Cortez asked. “Do we just let him keep killing until we catch him?”
“No, we put black and whites on the search while we do what we do best.”
“Bring down the bad guys,” Cortez grinned.
“Damned straight,” Harding snapped, slapping his hand on the table.
“Am I missing something?” Wilson interrupted. “We followed that technique with Brooke Madison, but she still died, so how is it going to be a better plan this time around?”
“Do you ever really listen to full conversations before making asinine comments?” Harding retorted. “Hardwick just said that we nearly caught the son-of-a-bitch during the Madison case, or weren’t you listening to that part?”
“He’s back,” the captain called from the doorway, preventing Wilson from responding to Harding. As he followed his fellow detectives from the commissary, Wilson wondered whether they’d finally met their match and if there was any possible way of stopping Christian Price at all. After all, no other police force had been able to. What Wilson didn’t realize was that Hardwick was pondering along the very same lines.
Chapter 28
Daniel once again parked along the curb outside the District 5 Headquarters, beneath his favorite oak, observing the officers comings and goings. For the past four days, he’d researched ideas, fought with himself, and did more research, all with the intent of devising the perfect murder with his few remaining supplies or with none of his supplies at all.
In the end, he’d formulated a scheme that would require only his sleeping mixture and some duct tape—for the most part. The only hitch in his design was accessing a particularly high security area—of which he was observing right now. He glanced down at the schematics he’d procured online. If he could reach his desired destination within this particular building, he might just be able to pull this off, and he was determined to make it work, so he’d find a way to reach his ideal locale.
He’d also waited this long because he wanted the APD to think he’d moved on, so that they’d relax their guard and send their officers back to their routine patrols.
As for his victim of choice? He’d already selected her; but he couldn’t abduct her until all was set in motion, until everything was in place and his plan ready to execute. With his pulse pounding, he reached for the brand new toolbox he’d purchased just that morning, stepped from his car, and made his way toward the APD headquarters.
“Hey,” he muttered to himself as he walked down the sidewalk. “I’m Daniel and I’m entering the lion’s den. There’s got to be some psychological significance here.” He restrained himself from laughing aloud at the parallel between his situation and the Bible story, but he still found it amusing enough to plaster a smile on his face.
He grinned widely, nodding boldly at the passing officers as he pulled open the door that would lead him where he never thought he would go.
“Can I help you?” the desk sergeant asked immediately.
“Elevator maintenance,” Daniel replied simply.
The sergeant nodded and then returned his attention to his paperwork.
Morons like you are why people die, Daniel said tacitly. You could have at least verified my credentials, inspected my toolbox…anything to prove I am who I say I am.
After a moment, he decided that, once again, fortune must be willing his experiments to succeed or things would never go perfectly for him. He then quickly determined it was best not to tempt fate and headed toward the stairwell, reviewing in his mind the schematics he’d memorized.
He only hoped he was easily able to access the pit where the safety buffer for the elevator car was located, or he’d be headed back out the front door; his idea scrapped, and a new search started for another scheme.
However, reaching his destination was only the beginning in this instance, because once he determined whether this plan was doable, he would only have a very small window—a matter of hours—in which to set everything up, including the victim. This vicinity was simply too high risk in order to allow for too much passage of time. The longer he was in the building…he shook the thought of capture from his mind. He couldn’t afford to allow stress and nerves to draw attention to his presence.
A few minutes later, he approached the small closet-sized room, near the base of the elevator shaft. A quick inspection discovered little space for maneuvering, which meant he’d have to work with the door open and start praying that no one came down here.
He pulled open the small metal latch that accessed the actual shaft and sighed. If he thought, the closet was a tight space…this room made the closet look like a stadium. In order to accomplish what he needed to accomplish, he was going to have to make some alterations.
With a quick glance down the corridor to ensure he was still alone, he opened his toolbox and retrieved a keyhole saw, then settled on his knees and started sawing through the sheetrock around the latch; thankful once more that the pit wasn’t housed in concrete or brick—although, he’d come prepared for that also.
Half-hour later, he pushed the sheetrock aside and maneuvered through the hole he’d made. He looked up and saw the elevator car high up the shaft. A quick inspection of the pit revealed what he was searching for—the buffer.
The buffer is the spring-rod protrusion that prevents the elevator from impacting the concrete flooring on the lowest level. It also provides a buffer between the car and the passengers, preventing an annoying jarring sensation each time it stops.
Daniel sat back and waited until the elevator descended and tapped the buffer firmly, but gently. He grinned. “This is perfect,” he purred, noting the distance between the car and the walls. He’d need to be precise or the elevator could jar the equipment he sets up, and that wouldn’t do at all.
The elevator sat for a few minutes longer and then started its slow ascent.
“Time to get started,” he murmured. He reached back and retrieved the items he’d need from his toolbox.
Chapter 29
An hour later, his work interrupted several times by the arrival of the elevator car. Daniel closed up the toolbox, and then set about inspecting his work for flaws. The coming and going of the car had annoyed him initially, but after the third decent, he used it to his advantage—using the time to examine and adjust his set up.
With a satisfied smile, he left the closet, closed the door, and headed back up the corridor. Now to set the next phase of his plan into motion: convincing the desk sergeant that he’d need to return later in the day to complete his work
.
He reached the lobby and approached the front desk.
“Excuse me,” he said, when the sergeant didn’t acknowledge his presence immediately.
“Yeah, what can I do for you? Oh, maintenance guy.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Listen. There’s a bolt that needs replacing, but I didn’t have the right type in my toolbox, so I’m going to need to go get one and come back.”
“It’s nearing rush hour. You’ll be stuck in traffic for some time if you try to maneuver around at this time of day.”
Daniel laughed shortly, “Yeah, don’t I know it, but if I don’t complete it today, my day off tomorrow becomes a work day.”
“Ah, hell no! If it was me, I’d sprout wings to get it done.”
“Damn straight! Hey, are you going to be here next shift? Or am I going to have to go through the same hassle I went through with you to get to where I need to be?” Daniel framed the question as a joke, but he really needed to know. After all, this guy was easy to by-pass, whereas another sergeant might not be.
The front desk sergeant laughed, “Nah, I’ll be here, and I promise, no cavity searches this time.”
Daniel laughed, more from relief at the response than the actual intended humor, “I’ll see you in a few.”
“Okay, I ain’t going anywhere.”
Daniel headed out the front door, grinning as wide as his lips allowed. Too easy, he thought, forcing himself to walk and not skip with glee to his car.
“Next, we sit and wait for the arrival of our victim.”
Chapter 30
It was nearing 7 p.m. when he spotted the young woman he’d been watching for the past four days, headed up the sidewalk to the police precinct. The streets were nearly empty, for which he was thankful. Atlantians that worked in the city long abandoned the area at the end of the workday, and those who’d be returning to enjoy Atlanta’s nightlife, shouldn’t be close by here.
He stepped from the car as she approached his vehicle, ready to intercept her. For this plan to work, he needed her cooperation—even if he used coercion to elicit said cooperation. This was one time in which chloroform or his sleep elixir wouldn’t be useful.
As soon as Daniel decided that it would have to be an APD officer abducted, he’d watched and waited for the perfect woman working third shift and was elated when he’d spotted Lucia Mendocino on his first night’s watch. For the next three days, as he researched the perfect murder, he also researched Officer Mendocino’s life. It saddened him that she had a family; a six-month-old baby boy among them, but the APD needed to feel the enormity of his resolve, and if they really cared about their own—more than the general public—then they’d find her and return her to her son.
What he needed to prevent now was her fighting back or alerting nearby pedestrians, few as they were, before he explained the direness of her circumstance.
She’d just made it past the hood of his car, when he stealthily approached from the rear and wrapped an arm about her neck, a switchblade pressed against her back, “Don’t squirm. I don’t want you dead, or your baby boy,” he said quickly in case she had some martial arts training and decided to flip him onto the sidewalk.
Lucia went rigid at the mention of her son, not even attempting to struggle.
“Good. We’re going to go sit in this car over here and have a chat.” He tugged against her neck, pulling her backwards toward the rear passenger door of his BMW. He increased the pressure on her neck when he lowered the switchblade, “I need to open the car door. If you try to escape, I’ll snap your neck, which means your baby boy loses his mom.”
He reached down, opened the car door, and shoved her inside, following quickly behind.
Her eyes widened when she saw him and he grinned.
“You’re not wearing a mask, which means you’re…”
“…going to kill you?” he concluded with a laugh. In fact, he didn’t need to wear a mask, because he’d long ago changed his appearance to where he didn’t resemble Christian Price in the least, nor would he resemble this man after tonight, should Lucia survive to provide a description. “No, Lucia. I’m not going to kill you. Only two circumstances are possible in which death will occur in this scenario. Would you like to know what they are?”
Lucia nodded, and Daniel smiled, “I thought you might. The first potential death will be your son, and that will only happen if you do not follow my dictates this evening to the letter. If you attempt to behave in any manner other than your normal self, my associate will kill your son. If you attempt to signal anyone overtly that you are in distress, my associate will kill your son. I don’t need to speak to anyone, just press speed dial. If my associate’s phone rings even once, your son dies. And before you think that you’ll be able to signal in some manner by behaving differently, know that I’ve been watching you for the past week, so I know your normal behavior around your work mates.” Daniel was laughing inside at her reaction and the tears streaming down her face. He’d convinced her well enough that his associate, which of course didn’t exist, would end her son’s life should she mess up, and the implication was all he needed. He let that sink in and then continued, “So, I guess you need to ask yourself—do you consider yourself a good enough actress to deceive your co-workers?”
She nodded, unable to speak past the fear paralyzing her vocal chords. Daniel moved to exit the car, which caused Lucia to find her voice, “You said there were two scenarios.”
“I did, didn’t I? Nice catch,” Daniel replied softly. “There are, but you won’t be privy to the second potential dying circumstance just yet. I promise, however, not to keep you on tenterhooks for long. Let’s get inside the precinct and ensure your son’s survival in round one, and then I’ll reveal what you need to do next and the potential person you’ll save by following my instructions to a tee. After all, if this first part goes awry…well, there won’t be a need to move on to part two. Okay?”
Lucia nodded.
“Good, let’s begin, shall we? You’ll precede me into the precinct and then stop in the corridor at the stairwell. Once there, wait for me to join you. I’m trusting that you’ll be able to accomplish this without need of handholding? For your son?”
Lucia nodded again and Daniel slid from the car. He reached in and retrieved his toolbox, and then offered Lucia a hand. He squeezed it reassuringly. The action was so gentlemanly, it caused her to tear up.
“Dry your eyes, please,” Daniel whispered harshly, “and chin up.”
She swiped at her eyes and wiped her nose on her sleeve.
“Now, after you.”
Although he was convinced that this first-year rookie would obey his every command, he still walked close behind her. When she reached for the door, he whispered close to her ear, “Academy Award performance.”
She nodded slightly, pulled open the door, and headed inside. Daniel expected the front desk sergeant to acknowledge her presence at least, but apparently, the comings and goings of the officers was so frequent that it warranted no more than a glance; however, he did acknowledge Daniel’s return.
“See you managed to sprout those wings,” he quipped.
“Determination for a day off is a great motivator,” Daniel laughed. His peripheral focus honed in on Lucia, as she moved down the corridor. He smiled inwardly when he saw her stop, as instructed. “Well, the sooner I get that bolt replaced, the sooner I end my day and start my day off. I’ll see you on the way out.”
“Sure thing.”
He moved down the corridor and opened the door swiftly, silently bidding Lucia to precede him into the stairwell. “Head to the lowest level, to the storage area,” he instructed, following her at a short distance, so that, should they pass anyone, there would not be a presumption they were together. He may intend to change his appearance as soon as he walked free of this building, but that didn’t mean he wanted to take unnecessary chances.
Not surprisingly, they didn’t pass a soul, as most people preferred to use the ele
vator to the stairs nowadays, and even fewer people had cause to visit the storage area, where unused office equipment sat awaiting the day when someone would have use of it again.
When he reached the closet that led to the elevator pit, he ushered Lucia inside, and then reached into his toolbox and withdrew some duct tape.
“Okay, you will be happy to know that your son will remain safe now. Does that make you happy?”
Lucia immediately broke into shoulder-shaking, body-wracking tears. Daniel looked down the corridor to ensure that her breakdown wasn’t drawing undue attention. When he saw that they remained alone, he allowed her to cry for a few minutes. When she started drawing in jagged breaths, he knew her crying spell was drawing to a close.
“Okay, now that you’ve had your moment, it’s time to go over the second potential death circumstance in this scenario. Are you ready for me to explain?”
Lucia nodded, wide-eyed with terror as he ripped off some of the duct tape and placed it over her mouth.
“Okay, this is how part two is going to go,” he explained slowly, as he tore another longer strip of duct tape and wound it about her wrists behind her back. “Your officers and detectives have been on the hunt for the serial killer, Christian Price, correct?”
Lucia nodded and her eyes went from wide to bug-eyed. He didn’t resemble the sketch that had been circulating, so she didn’t connect him to Price when they were in her car. She thought that she was in danger because he wasn’t masked, which meant she could identify him; now, however, it was different, because Price was a known murderer.
“That’s right, Lucia, I’m Christian Price, which means, I’ve chosen you for my next victim.”
Lucia forgot all about remaining calm and started squealing, struggling against her bindings. Daniel couldn’t afford for this last experiment to go awry, so he smacked her hard upside the head, “Settle down now,” he commanded firmly. She moaned against the duct tape as a loud ringing started in her ears.
