SHADOW MAN - Angie Bartoni Case File #6 (ANGIE BARTONI CASE FILES Book 1)

by Marshall Huffman

  “Well that sure leaves a big hole. I mean with three people to watch no matter what we do we are leaving someone unprotected.”

  “Hey, we just have to do the best we can. All the budget cuts are causing everyone to walk a tightrope. It’s stupid but it’s a reality nevertheless.”

  “10-1, 10-3” Came over the radio.

  “Go 10-3”

  “I think we have something,” Garner said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I think so. It is pretty dark but Terry thought he saw someone walking around the back of the house.”

  “Hang on. We are on our way,” I told him as Dan started the car and headed out with just the lights flashing.

  Garner and Fellows were keeping an eye on Sid Peters and his place was only a mile or so from where we were watching Sanders. Dan cut the lights and we rolled in the last block in total darkness. I got out and headed to where Garner and Fellows sat.

  “What did you see?”

  “Terry thought he saw someone going around the back of the house. It was just a shadow but he was sure he saw something.”

  “Okay. Let’s take it nice and easy. You and Terry take the front. Dan and I will work our way around to the back. Don’t shoot unless you absolutely have to. I don’t want to hit some drunk just coming home from a bar someplace.”

  “You got it. Let’s go,” Terry said bounding across the street to the front of the house.

  The house was a big old two story place probably built in the thirties. If someone fixed it up it would be a really nice house but in its present condition it was a sorry looking place.

  Dan and I slowly worked our way to the back. I quickly stuck my head around the corner but didn’t see a thing. I took another quick peek but no one was there.

  “Dan. Go have Garner knock on the door. Keep banging until someone gets up. I’ll stay back here in case someone runs out.”

  “Why don’t you go and I’ll stay,” Dan argued.

  Touching, but not the way I wanted it.

  “Get your butt around to the front Dan,” I said harshly.

  “Right,” he said stomping off.

  I waited until I could hear the commotion taking place at the front of the house. I carefully made my way to the back yard about twenty feet from the rear door. I could see lights coming on but no one ran out the back. I waited a full five minutes before I headed back around to the front.

  Garner, Fellows, and Dan were having a shouting match with someone.

  “Hey, shut up, all of you,” I screamed.

  It suddenly got very quiet.

  “Who the hell are you?” some woman finally said.

  “Detective Bartoni and your worst nightmare if you don’t take it down a notch. This is police business and I will haul your butt downtown if I get any lip out of you, understand?”

  “What do you want? Do you know what time it is?”

  “I want to talk to Sid.”

  “Sid?”

  “Yeah. You know, the guy who lives here.”

  “He is up in his room. He was drunker than a skunk when he came home. He ain’t done nothin'.”

  There it was, the grammar thing again. We should start a grammar police unit. When someone says ‘let me axe you a question’ they get three years in grammar school.

  “Look lady, we just want to check and make sure he is home safe and sound.”

  “Well he is.”

  “When was the last time you actually saw him?”

  “I don’t know. Around eleven thirty or so.”

  “We need to see him for ourselves,” I told her.

  “Well if this don’t beat all. The cops making sure someone like Sid Peters is tucked into bed all safe and sound.”

  “Yeah, we’re real humanitarians like that. Just show us his room.”

  She led us down the hall to a back bedroom that had the door closed.

  I knocked on the door loudly but no one answered.

  “You’re sure he is in there?”

  “I saw him go in and close the door,” she replied.

  “Dan, go ahead and open it.”

  Dan raised his big foot and gave it a mighty kick, it almost came off the frame he kicked it so hard. I went in and turned on the light. No Sid to be found.

  “Crap,” was all I said as we walked out.

  I was pretty sure he was our next victim.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Wake up Sid.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Now Sid, don’t you worry about that just now. We will get acquainted later. By the time I’m done I will know everything about you and then some.”

  “What is this all about? I haven’t bothered nobody.”

  “That’s just it Sid. You did more than bother them. You tortured them and raped them.”

  “But I did my time. I haven’t done anything since I got out. I swear to God.”

  “That may be true but it just isn’t enough for all the pain you caused. You don’t really think that the few measly years you were in prison were nearly enough, do you?”

  “Please. I’ve changed. I know it was wrong. I will never go back to being like that.”

  “I know. I can assure you that it will never happen again.”

  “Look. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll leave the state. Leave the country. Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

  “Sorry Sid. It is far too late for that.”

  **

  “They found Sid Peters.”

  “Crap. Where?”

  “The old Lexor Assembly Plant,” Captain McGregor said.

  “Who found him?”

  “Kids. They evidently go there and just hang out.”

  “I’ll grab Dan and head out there.”

  “You will need to talk to the press. They are already on the scene and know that it was one of Stillwell’s gang. They are going to have some tough questions for you.”

  “I’m sure they will,” I said as I went off to find Dan.

  He was in the break room doctoring up his cup of coffee. He was very particular when it came to his cup of Joe.

  “They found Sid.”

  “Dead?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Where?’

  “Lexor Assembly Plant.”

  “How in the hell did whoever is doing this get in the place? It’s locked up tight,” Dan said.

  “Evidently not as much as you think. Teenagers that hang out in the place found the body.”

  “Well crap. So this guy somehow got into Sid’s place, took him out and then got into a place that is supposed to be locked up as well. Just who the hell are we dealing with here?” Dan asked.

  He was becoming as frustrated as I was about this guy. He had committed five murders and we didn’t have a single clue. While it is pretty much a universal truth that a killer will eventually slip up and make a stupid mistake, so far this guy was five for five and not a thing to tie anyone to the crimes.

  The Lexor Assembly Plant was part of a now defunct industrial park. It had once been a flourishing area but a new bypass had taken most of the traffic in a different direction. Within a few years it was nothing more than a shell of old buildings. Apparently it had become a place for teens to hang out.

  “Hey Doc,” I said to Sorenson as we entered the building.

  “Bartoni. Looks like another of Stillwell’s boys bit the dust.”

  “Sure looks that way.”

  I walked over and looked at the lifeless body that was once Sid Peters. Hundreds of cut marks covered every inch of his body. An occasional large patch of skin was missing as well. From his face to his toes a crisscrossing of what appeared to be razor cuts covered his body.

  “Razor?”

  “Or scalpel. Something exceptionally sharp was used. See how the skin is cut where a patch was peeled off. Not very deep but with very clean edges. That has to have been from a razor or scalpel.”

  “Most of the cuts are pretty superficial it looks like to me,” I said.r />
  “That’s correct. They were just to inflict pain. If I remember right, using a knife on the women was his thing,” Sorenson said.

  “Yep. He was big on cutting and peeling the skin off of his prey. Liked to keep parts of them as souvenirs.”

  “Well someone did the same to him except they didn’t keep them. They are in evidence bags and headed to the lab.”

  “Any chance of a fingerprint or DNA?”

  “There is always a chance but I sincerely doubt it.”

  “Maybe we will get lucky.”

  “I don’t work on luck, that’s what cops do.”

  “Oooh aren’t you feisty today.”

  “Well damn it, I’m getting sick of being called out at all hours of look at these creeps. One thing I can tell you; whoever did this had some medical training or knew how to torture people. Maybe someone in Special Forces or something along those lines,” Sorenson replied.

  “Really? Well maybe that will help us. That’s good information Doc,” I told him.

  **

  “Medical training or maybe Special Forces? Do you have anyone like that on your list?” Dan asked.

  “I honestly don’t remember. We will have to run through the records again and see if anyone jumps out at us.”

  “You know, this guy has to be strong. I mean lifting someone up like that takes a hell of a lot of strength,” Dan pointed out.

  “Or there is more than one person involved.”

  “That would be totally ugly. One is bad enough but if two or three are involved this could take even longer to close.”

  “I guess one person could do it but they would have to be not only strong but pretty tall,” I said.

  “So far the only person who fits that bill is Miller and we know he is not capable of that in his condition.”

  “Then we are going to have to look into relatives as well, sons especially.”

  “Do you really think someone’s son would be that involved? I mean to kill these people for revenge?”

  “It depends. I guess if they saw the surviving spouse just give up on life, they might be motivated enough,” I replied.

  I could tell Dan wasn’t exactly buying it and honestly neither was I. I was just throwing ideas out hoping something would stick to the wall.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Captain, we need to use at least one other set of eyes if we are going to cover James and Sanders.”

  “You had three sets and what good did that do? He waltzed in and grabbed Peters right from under your nose. How is having more people going to prevent the same thing from happening?”

  “Sir. I wanted protective custody; you are the one who said we couldn’t afford it. Now we have another dead person on our hands. If we don’t smother the remaining two, we can kiss them goodbye as well.”

  “Here is what I want you to do. I want you to go talk to both men. Tell them that we are working on finding the killer. They need to go to ground until we let it be known that it is safe. That will take care of the budget problems. They need to do it on the QT so no one knows. That way you can watch the two houses on a rotating basis.”

  “Come on captain. A rotating basis? That means we have a fifty percent chance at best of finding the guy. Once he finds they have bugged out, he will just wait.”

  “I’m sorry Bartoni. Did that sound like a suggestion? Well let me assure you, it wasn’t. That is exactly what I want you to do. I don’t want any lip about it. Just go talk to them and see to it that they get the hell out of the house they are residing in and go someplace they feel safe.”

  “I’ll do it but it’s the wrong thing to do in this case,” I said stubbornly.

  “Go, get out,” were his parting words.

  **

  “How’d it go?” Dan asked when I came back from the captain's office.

  “We got shot down big time. No more help. We are to tell Sanders and James to go to ground and then split our time between the two places in hopes of catching this guy,” I said flopping down.

  “Well isn’t that just special. Has he lost his ever loving mind? That lowers our chances to practically zero. That means we are going to be relying on dumb luck,” Dan replied, flopping down as well.

  “Well one thing I know, the captain’s mind is made up so that is all we are going to be allowed to do. I hate to say it but it will take one of them getting taken before we get any help. By then it will be too late.”

  “You think we could talk...”

  The phone interrupted our conversation and I took the call.

  “Bartoni.”

  “Angie. Ben.”

  “Hi Ben, what’s up?”

  “Are you busy?”

  “Nothing that can’t wait.”

  “Well, pending you looking the car over. You are the proud owner of a 1966 Austin Healy 3000 Mark III BJ8. It is two tone silver-blue and white with a blue top.”

  “Get out of here.”

  “It’s true. I got it for twenty-five nine.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I most certainly did. I am having it towed to a great British car mechanic I know to clean the fuel lines and see if it needs anything else. He will have it ready by five o’clock if nothing else is wrong with car,” Ben told me.

  As much as I loved my TR6, having an Austin Healy 3000 was at the top of my car bucket list. I have always loved their classic lines.

  “I should go take a look at it immediately.”

  “No. Just let my mechanic do his magic on it first. The place is British Specialty Imports. He is located on West Washington Street near the 45th street bridge.”

  “Ben, this unbelievable. How can I ever repay you?”

  “Don’t worry, you don’t owe me a thing. Well, the deposit maybe but other than that, I was just glad to help.”

  “Thank you so much. I’ll call you after I have a chance to check it out.”

  “Good. I think you’re going to love it.”

  Hot damn. A Healy 3000. I never thought I would actually end up owning one. This was just way too cool.

  “I take it you got the car?” Dan said.

  “If it checks out. I’m pretty sure it will. I know Ben well enough to know he wouldn’t just grab anything.”

  “Well, at least that is one thing off your plate.”

  “A big one.”

  **

  We drove to Sanders’ place to talk to him about going into hiding. It went better than I had ever expected.

  “So you have no problem with going into hiding for the time being?”

  “Hell no. This guy is crazy. I don’t know what his problem is but I’ve been straight ever since I was released. I haven’t set one foot crooked. Hell, I haven’t even gone to a bar or anything.”

  “Just so you know, the plan is for us to keep an eye on you place in hopes that he turns up and we have a chance to nab him.”

  “How will I know when it’s safe?”

  “Just listen to the news. You will hear all about it when we catch up with him.”

  “You’re sure this one guy has done all the killing? Stillwell was a damn tough guy. I can’t imagine one person taking him down. He has been a fighter all of his life.”

  “You may be right. We don’t know anything for sure at this point. For now we are focusing on just one guy,” I told him as he was packing.

  Twenty minutes later he was packed and ready to leave.

  “Give me a key to your place. That way we can come in if we think we see something without having to kick the door down,” I told him.

  He handed over his key.

  “Good luck. I hope you get this guy. I ain’t got a lot of money so I can only stay gone so long.”

  “Come down to the station if we haven’t caught him before you run out. I can probably get you some additional funding.”

  **

  Our talk with Tom James did not go quite as well, however.

  “I’m not afraid of this guy. He comes in here looking for me a
nd it will be the last thing he does.”

  “Really? So you’re a badass, is that it?” Dan said, stepping in.

  “I can handle myself.”

  “I think your full of yourself. You’re a talker. I’ve seen hundreds of them. Lots of swagger but that is all. You are just a punk that likes to talk about how tough you are but you can’t back it up.”

  “Yeah? You want to give it a go?”

  “Hell yes. Let’s just see how tough you really are.”

  “Sure, and then you will arrest me when I kick your butt.”

  “Oh no. If you do, nothing will happen. I’ll have learned my lesson. Now let’s just see what you have tough guy.”

  “Is he crazy?” he said to me.

  “Pretty much. Hey, I’ve never seen him lose a fight but if you are as tough as you say you are it could be the first time,” I told him.

  “You’re both nuts. I’m not getting into a fight with cops. You can say you won’t haul me in but I know different. You guys can never be trusted,” James said.

  “I give you my word. Nothing will happen if you whip me.”

  “No way. I’m on parole still. I can’t be getting into fights.

  “You know what I think. I think you are chicken shit with a big mouth. You don’t stand a chance if this guy comes for you. The best thing you can do is get the hell out of here and go into hiding until we get the guy,” Dan said, still up in his face.

  “Okay, okay. I think it’s stupid to hide but if you say it is what I need to do then I’ll do it,” James said at last.

  “Good call,” was all Dan said.

  We waited while he packed and I gave him the same instructions that I had given Sanders. He was less than happy about the whole thing but he was certainly no match for the guy we were looking for.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  As soon as we finished I headed over to look at my potential new purchase. I was blown away by the car. It looked great and the interior must have been recently redone.

  The shop owner was named Franco Lawrenz.

  “It's a great car. Solid. I have gone over everything and this is what it will need to have it in tip top shape,” he said handing me a list. It had two sections. The first was what had been done and the cost. The second was recommendations for what should be done and the cost.