by N. M. Brown
The morning was as uneventful as had been expected – the majority of drunks were usually caught late afternoon and early evening. Most offenders were those who had decided to wash down their lunch with a couple of beers and drive back to work, or, more usually, home. Every driver the two officers stopped that morning was reassuringly sober.
At lunchtime Danny walked half a mile to the market on the corner of Highway 76, and returned with chilled water and packets of sandwiches, which he and Leighton devoured as they sat in the open trunk of the cruiser.
‘Pretty low hit rate,’ Danny said, as he sipped from his bottle, ‘the captain will give us hell for underperformance again.’
‘It’s early yet,’ Leighton said, ‘plus, Gretsch will give us hell regardless.’
‘I suppose.’ Danny shrugged. ‘You managing to keep yourself from sniffing around that case?’
‘Almost,’ Leighton said with a wry smile.
‘I suspected as much.’
‘You know me too well,’ Leighton said, as he watched the rumbling traffic on the freeway.
‘What have you got?’ Danny asked.
‘Nothing concrete, but I found this incident involving a working girl, who may have been caught up in a failed abduction by the same guy.’
‘Where?’
‘Here in Oceanside.’
‘Wow.’ Danny blew out a whistle of air. ‘How did you find out?’
‘I did some digging in the station records last night.’
‘Was there a report on the abduction?’
‘Yeah, but here’s the thing – no action was ever taken, not follow up, nothing. Doesn’t that stink?’
‘It sure does. Who filed the report?’ Danny asked.
‘Guess,’ Leighton said.
‘The captain?’
‘Close. It was Slater.’
‘Whoa, you sure you want to go there, Jonesy? That would be playing with a loaded gun. If Slater knew you’d been sniffing around his reports, he’d go straight to Gretsch.’
‘Don’t I know it. But what about the lack of follow up? I thought Slater was strictly by the book.’
‘Nah,’ said Danny, shaking his head. ‘It makes all kinds of sense. Slater worked vice before he moved to homicide. Richie Fallens told me that Slater got transferred out of vice after a street walker complained about him.’
‘Ah,’ said Leighton, nodding, ‘a small man with a big grudge.’
‘Yeah, that’s one officer who will be quite happy to see ladies of the night in danger.’
‘So, it looks like I’m stuck with nowhere to go.’
‘Well you might as well sit back and enjoy your lunch.’
‘Amen, partner.’
It was almost 2.30pm when the man in the Lexus pointed the loaded gun at Leighton’s chest: he had been pulled over only moments earlier. Danny had waved his car into the inspection lane where Leighton was waiting. The first indication that anything was wrong was the man leaving his engine running when he’d pulled up next to Leighton. He was in his early fifties, balding, and dressed in a light grey suit. A thin sheen of sweat was visible on his brow, but it was a hot day so that did not particularly alarm Leighton.
‘Please turn off the engine, sir,’ Leighton said, as he began noting down the make and model of the car. When he glanced up from his notepad, Leighton realised that the driver had raised his hand to the car key, but he had not actually touched it. His hand was simply hovering in the air, as if he were attempting a magic spell.
‘Sir,’ Leighton repeated in a more assertive manner, ‘turn off the engine, now.’
‘What? Oh yes, sorry,’ the man said, smiling nervously. This time he did turn off the engine, but his expression was pained. If Leighton had been less distracted, or closer to him, he may have detected the sharp stench of spirit on the man’s breath.
‘Can I please see your driver’s license and registration documents?’
‘No,’ the man said in the tone of a petulant child. His hands were fastened on the steering wheel and Leighton could see the veins starting to bulge on the back of them.
‘Okay, sir, step out of the vehicle. Don’t worry, you’re not in any trouble.’
‘I know.’ He grinned. ‘You’re the one in trouble. With your shitty little tests and penalties. Why can’t a guy have a couple of bourbons if he wants?’
Leighton glanced up from his notepad to see the man leaning out of the car window, pointing a glossy black pistol directly at his chest.
‘Okay there, buddy,’ Leighton said in a calm voice, slowly placing his hands in the air. ‘Let’s just relax and we can sort this situation out.’
‘I’m not your “buddy”,’ the sweating man said. ‘Now take your gun out of your holster and put it down on the goddam ground.’
‘Sure,’ Leighton said, ‘whatever you say.’
Leighton very slowly and deliberately removed his gun from his holster and placed it on the ground. It was at that moment, Danny – who was twenty feet away at the start of the cones – glanced over at his partner and noticed that something wasn’t right. He began walking toward him.
The man glanced over at Danny approaching them, and in that moment Leighton took his chance. In one slick movement, he gripped his baton, which was attached to his belt on the opposite side from his pistol, and detached it from its clip. As he swung it upwards the baton extended out, allowing all three steel sections to slide and click solidly into place. He swung the steel rod down, smashing it into his assailant’s hand. The gun clattered to the ground. The man screamed in pain as Leighton crouched and recovered both weapons. As he stood up, he holstered his own gun and smiled courteously.
‘Once again, sir,’ Leighton said, as he instinctively brought his hand to his belt, ‘please step out of the vehicle.’
This time, the man complied.
After the driver had been tested – confirming he was four times over the legal limit – he was cuffed and removed by a mobile unit. Leighton and Danny were left to gather up the cones as the evening traffic surged past them.
‘So, Jonesy, that was a pretty little baton move you had back there,’ Danny said, as they carried their respective orange burdens back to the open trunk of the cruiser.
‘Yeah.’ Leighton shrugged. ‘I guess I prefer it to firing a pistol.’
‘How come?’
‘Well, it’s less lethal and it requires much less paperwork to be filled in if I ever use it.’
‘I’ll go with that.’ Danny nodded.
‘You want me to drop you off at the hospital?’ Leighton asked.
‘No thanks. My sister will be there until ten. If you drop me off at the station it’ll give me a chance to show my face around the place. Show the rest of the guys that I still exist. Plus, that way I can write up today’s events and save you having to do it.’
‘That sounds like a plan,’ Leighton said, as he pressed on his key fob to unlock the car.
The two officers placed the last of the cones in the trunk of the cruiser and climbed into the vehicle.
After Leighton had dropped Danny at the station, he decided to make a stop on his way home. Without any deliberate intention, he found himself driving down to the pier again.
It was a warm evening, and a good opportunity to take a walk in the fresh air. Watching life in and around the shore was always life affirming – it reminded him that the world wasn’t entirely full of darkness. Sometimes, if he was lucky, he would find a live music rehearsal taking place in the amphitheatre that was nestled alongside the pier, and he would sit in the back row – a tired cop in a shirt and chinos – listening with his eyes closed.
Tonight, he figured a walk by the shore might help him navigate a path through the evidence he had gathered so far. He felt there was a pattern emerging, but he was too tangled up in it all to see it clearly.
As he pulled his car into the roadside, his cell phone rang. He picked it up and pressed the green button.
‘Hello?’ Leighton said.
‘Jonesy, it’s Danny. Listen, I was just grabbing a coffee in the lounge and I heard from Owen in homicide that they got an identification on the Jane Doe found out at Lake Tanner. Her name was Jenna Dodds; don’t know if that means anything to you or not?’
‘Shit.’ Leighton dragged a hand across his weary eyes. ‘Yeah, that’s the missing girl I mentioned.’
‘What you going to do with it?’
‘I don’t know,’ Leighton said, and it was the truth.
‘But nothing stupid, right?’
Leighton could hear the concern in Danny’s voice.
‘Yeah, nothing stupid. Thanks, partner.’
After the call was over, Leighton looked out of his car window to the ocean. On the horizon, distant waves were rolling endlessly over each other. It seemed more than a coincidence that two bodies, of similar young woman, had been found within a couple of days of each other. Yet, until he knew the cause of death, Leighton was unwilling to go down that particular rabbit hole. The only way to know for sure, was to speak to an expert.
Leighton pulled into the parking lot of the medical examiner’s office. From the outside, the orange and cream coloured building looked more like a modern office than a centre of scientific investigation. Only the brooding steel doors at the side – where the bodies would be brought in – suggested there was something serious going on behind the bright facade.
The last time he had visited, the young man on reception had taken one look at Leighton’s badge and directed him to the lab where Nina worked; this time it was different.
When he approached the reception, a stern woman with glossy black hair flashed Leighton a steely smile.
‘Good evening, sir, what can we do for you?’
‘My name is Leighton Jones, I’m with Oceanside PD,’ he said, and showed her his badge. ‘I was hoping to speak to Nina Shindel – if she’s available.’
There was a shift in the facial expression of the receptionist. It was nothing explicit, just a flicker, but enough to indicate to Leighton that something was wrong.
‘I’m afraid that’s not possible.’ The receptionist’s tone implied he had just asked to speak to Santa Claus.
‘Why not?’ Leighton asked.
‘What was it that you wanted to speak to Ms Shindel about?’
‘I’m not at liberty to discuss that. It’s a police matter.’
At that moment Leighton heard somebody approaching him from behind, and turned to see a small man with a shaved head. He was wearing a lab coat and was peeling off a pair of blue latex gloves.
‘Is there a problem here?’ the man asked.
‘No problem,’ Leighton said, ‘I’m an officer with Oceanside PD. I was hoping to speak to Nina.’
‘Ms Shindel no longer works in this department. My name is Ronald Freil, I’m the senior examiner here, perhaps there’s something I can help you with?’
‘I was just looking for a couple of details regarding the body found at Lake Tanner.’
‘Are you part of the investigating team assigned to the investigation?’
‘No.’ Leighton sighed, ‘I was just—’
‘Then absolutely not.’ The man held up both hands dramatically, as if in an attempt to stop an invisible train. ‘I’m sorry, we can’t help you.’
‘Look, I’m not trying to step into anyone else’s yard here, I simply know this case has elements that extend into my jurisdiction.’
The man’s expression remained fixed. ‘That makes no difference,’ he said. ‘All requests for information must go through the appropriate channels, Officer Jones.’
Leighton looked at the man for a moment, taking in how much he was enjoying the power. This was somebody who appeared too confident with their decisions to be making them alone. Coupled with the fact that Leighton had not actually given this man his name, it told him everything he needed to know.
‘You’re quite right,’ Leighton said, ‘I’m sorry to have disturbed you. I just thought for a moment that we were on the same side.’
‘There are no sides,’ the small man said, ‘only procedures.’
‘Nice mantra,’ Leighton said, ‘but can you do one thing for me?’
‘Possibly.’
‘Say hi to Captain Gretsch for me, next time he calls to pat your head and give you instructions,’ Leighton said, and walked out of reception.
As he sat in his car outside the medical examiner’s office, flicking through his notebook, it seemed to Leighton that the doors of this case were rapidly closing; he might have to let the matter go completely. If the universe was throwing barriers in his way, perhaps he should respect them. But part of him kept thinking about those poor women, walking the streets each night. Their lives were difficult and dangerous enough without adding a sick serial killer into the mix. He also kept thinking about Steven Cooper and his daughter Veronica. In his mind, they were a father and daughter pair, much like Leighton and Annie, until some psycho had crept up and torched their home. If Stanton was killing again, he had to be stopped.
Leighton concluded that his only real option was to get up early the following morning, and take a drive out to the town of Lakehead. Maybe if he could speak to the only survivor of the Cooper’s house fire, he would see the pattern more clearly.
He climbed out of the car, leaned on the side of the bonnet, and glanced over at the play park where a young couple were helping their toddler into a brightly coloured swing. He envied their life: the potential they had to make the right decisions.
Sighing, he pulled out his cell phone and shifted his attention to the nearby ocean.
Using one finger, he clumsily typed in the message:
Hey Annie – you coming back over tonight? We need to get along better. I could order some pizza. Let me know. Dad x
Slipping his phone into a pocket, Leighton crossed the road to the pier. The place was busy with lovers, and families sharing ice cream, enjoying the fading warmth of the evening. As he sat on one of the benches, Leighton gazed at the hypnotic shifting waves of the ocean, and felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness.
His cell phone buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at it and smiled as he saw that Annie had replied. He felt a flicker of happiness. Then he read the message:
Srry, gt plans for tnght. Will call l8r. A
As he closed the phone, Leighton had to fight the urge to throw it off the pier into the shifting waves.
When he returned home that evening, Leighton lay in his bathtub and tried to make sense of the world. Perhaps if Heather had lived, he could have been a better father, and possibly a better cop. At least then he would have had somebody to talk things through with – both personally and professionally – at the end of each day. Instead, he felt as if he was always facing some kind of opposition. His daughter thought he was a loser, his boss wanted rid of him, and, despite the fact that there was a killer sneaking around Oceanside, Leighton felt powerless to stop them.
He reached to the side of the bathtub to pick up a towel, and dragged it across his face. He recalled how, a decade earlier, the grief counsellor had told him in an annoyingly calm voice that life was about looking forwards – to consider where you could change things – rather than dwelling on a painful past that couldn’t be altered.
Leighton thought about this advice carefully. If he were to make a difference with Annie, he would have to somehow bridge the gulf between them. Invest some time in their relationship. Gretsch would never be his greatest fan, but perhaps, if Leighton could just help Danny through the next couple of weeks, he could focus on filling in spreadsheets and giving the captain the kind of results he valued, and be a better
Before, he fell asleep that night, Leyton lay down on top his bed and switched on his bedside radio. He wasn’t a fan of the various talk stations, preferring instead to drift off to the sound of music. Turning the dial on the radio, he moved between the swell and fade of different stations. Snatches of tunes and conversation merged together as Leighton
yawned. However, he cocked his head in interest when he tuned into the familiar twang of Muddy Waters. Smiling, Leyton lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. He knew the tune ‘Mannish Boy’ and was happy to have found it. As the song played, he found his thoughts drifting to a simpler period of time when he spent sunny childhood days watching his father strip engines in their small front yard.
However, when the song ended, the hourly news report brought Leighton back to cold reality:
This evening, Oceanside police, investigating a series of homicides in the area, have arrested a suspect in the case. The killings have been dubbed the work of The Dentist after a police source confirmed that a number of victims were missing teeth. In other news, a new retail development is to be built…
‘Jeez,’ Leighton sighed and stared at the cheap fan on his ceiling. Whoever was passing details to the media was making investigating the case much more difficult. When key details were released to the public, countless hoax calls would come in from idiots claiming to be the killer, whilst the real one could be missed because of the process of investigating the fraudsters.. And the media had given him a name too, as if being able to label a monster made it somehow less frightening. This made Leighton smile as he vaguely remembered the grief therapist telling him that expressing our anxieties in words was the first step to releasing them. The name- The Dentist- made little difference to Leighton’s perception of the killer. He was simply a dangerous psychopath, hidden away like a snake beneath a rock, in some shadowy corner of the state.
As he let his eyes slip closed again, Leighton found himself hoping the visit to Lakehead would shine some light into that shadowy corner.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Danny had been sitting beside his father’s hospital bed for just over an hour when he realised he was starting to drift off himself. Leighton had dropped him at the hospital just after 8am. They were both meant to be working a half shift until noon monitoring traffic around the city. Leighton had said that he would spend a couple of hours in the harbour area, then head over to Vandergrift Boulevard. This was one of the main roads running north out of the city. If he parked up there, when the shift was over he could easily drive the thirty-two miles up to Lakehead.
