by N. M. Brown
‘The case is closed,’ Gretsch said.
‘You’re making a big mistake, Captain. The killer is here in Oceanside. He has already served time for a double murder over in … I have a name, Michael Stanton – he’s a potential suspect, and credible evidence that justifies further investigation.’
‘Who?’ Gretsch held up a hand to his ear, and for a moment Leighton thought he might actually be interested.
‘Michael Stanton, he killed a father and daughter in a house fire back in 1988.
‘Go home, Jones. You’ve got nada. And hand in your gun and your badge at reception.’ Gretsch straddled his bike, started the engine, and revved out of the station parking lot.
Leighton climbed into his car, slammed the door, and drove straight into the captain’s designated parking space. Having switched off the engine, he hurried into the building and downstairs to the driver records department. If nobody else was going to do anything to stop this psycho, he sure as hell would.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Ryan Slater switched off his car engine and reached into his shirt pocket. The piece of paper he pulled out had been folded twice into a neat white square. It felt strange to be out in the field without his partner, Goza, but this trip was strictly off the record. Gretsch had called him from his cell phone and given him the name of some poor ex-con that Leighton Jones imagined was The Dentist. The captain had asked Slater to use his detective skills to get an address so he could go and warn the poor guy that a loony traffic cop was gunning for him. Slater was, of course, more than happy to oblige. In his opinion, guys like Jones were dinosaurs who had no place in modern policing. The days of crossing boundaries and pursuing hunches were long gone. If Slater could do anything to help nudge Leighton Jones out of Oceanside PD, he would happily oblige.
After Gretsch had hung up, Slater got busy putting together a list of all the residents named Michael Stanton living in the area. There was only one with a prior conviction and Slater had tracked him down to a house in a residential street on the east side of the city. He decided to use his own car for the trip, that way he would remain off the radar.
After a half hour drive from the station, he found himself in a quiet residential area, where he parked his car and checked the details once more.
Slater pressed the doorbell and, while he waited, adjusted his tie for maximum professionalism. After a moment the door was opened by a clean-shaven man wearing frameless glasses.
‘Can I help you?’ he asked, from behind the door, which was only partially open.
‘Mr Stanton?’
‘Yes,’ the man said, with a small nod of his head.
‘My name is Detective Slater. Could I come in and speak to you for a moment?’
‘What’s it about?’ Stanton asked, whilst running a hand absently through his neat hair.
‘It’s a rather delicate matter,’ Slater said quietly. ‘I’d just as soon speak to you inside.’
‘Of course,’ Stanton said, as he stepped aside and welcomed Slater through the doorway.
Stanton closed the door and led the detective into a neat living area at the rear of the property. The walls of the room were white and a large patio window looked out onto a small barbecue area. If Slater was ever asked to describe Stanton’s home, he would probably use the word ‘clinical’.
‘Please, take a seat,’ Stanton said with a broad smile. ‘It’s so hot today. Would you like some lemonade?’
‘Sure,’ Slater said as he sat down, ‘that would be great.’
A moment later, Stanton returned with two glasses of cloudy lemonade and chiming ice cubes. He handed one glass to Slater and, keeping hold of the other, he carefully sat down on a nearby chair.
‘Nice place you got here,’ Slater said.
‘It’s small but it suits me just fine. So, what’s bothering you, Officer … Slater, wasn’t it?’
Slater nodded, took a drink, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
‘Well, it’s a bit embarrassing, I guess. There’s a traffic cop at the station who is a joke – imagines himself as a frustrated detective; in reality he’s a looney. Anyway, he’s got it into his head that you’re some kind of deranged killer.’
‘Me?’ Stanton laughed. ‘A killer of house plants maybe.’
‘Yeah, well that’s pretty much why my boss wanted me to give you a heads-up, just in case he shows up looking to ask you anything. His name is Leighton Jones and he works traffic. Obviously, you don’t have to speak to him. Just call Oceanside PD and we’ll come and get him.’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Stanton said with a genuine smile.
‘No problem,’ Slater said, and took a large drink.
‘Have you, or your boss, any idea why this Jones guy would zero in on me?’
‘No.’ Slater shrugged. ‘He’s full of oddball ideas. The guy got lucky on a case a few years back, so now he thinks he’s Sherlock fucking Holmes. Apparently, he said something about a similar crime in Lakehead, where you have a prior conviction for fire-raising.’
Slater noted a flicker of something appear, then vanish again, in Stanton’s expression.
‘But that was twenty years ago, I was a dumb kid who had a fascination with fire. I stupidly torched a lumber barn for the hell of it. Unfortunately, the fire spread to a nearby house. A couple of people died because of my stupidity.’ He shook his head slowly. I fucked up and I spent sixteen years in a state penitentiary for my mistake. I know what I am. It hardly makes me Ted Bundy.’
‘Exactly.’ Slater shrugged. ‘But this guy is like Columbo – he sees suspects in every alleyway.’
‘So, who else knows about this guy’s wild theories then?’
‘Just the three of us – the captain, Jones, and me.’
‘Thank God! For a moment, I was thinking I’d have half of Oceanside PD hunting for me, like O.J Simpson!’ He let out a nervous laugh.
‘No, you’re quite safe,’ Slater said with a smile. ‘This guy’s ideas are out there. Nobody gives a shit about his whacko theories.’
‘That’s great,’ Stanton said with a genuine sigh of relief, ‘you’ve really helped me out, Officer.’
‘Detective,’ Slater corrected.
‘Sorry, Detective. Here, can I get you a refill?’
Slater drained the contents of his glass and handed it to Stanton, who walked into the kitchen.
There was a large mirror on one wall and it was angled in such a way that Slater could see a small area of the bright green kitchen. As he glanced in the mirror, he could see that Stanton was just standing there, holding the two glasses in his hands. He wasn’t attempting to refill them at all; he was simply standing, staring into space, as if waiting for something. Slater thought he had perhaps forgotten what he was doing.
‘So, what is it you do here in Oceanside, Mr Stanton?’ he asked, hoping to remind the guy that his visitor was still here.
‘Well,’ Stanton called through, ‘mainly I kill hookers.’
Slater laughed so much that he made himself cough. Then he couldn’t stop coughing, and when he tried to bring his hand up to his throat, he found that his arm would not work.
At that point, Stanton walked back into the room. ‘Ah good,’ he said in a quiet voice, ‘the arsenic is working quite nicely. We’ll get you into the trunk of my car very soon. But in the meantime, you just sit there and relax.’
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Nina Shindel had just lifted a paper bag of groceries out of her sports car, and closed the trunk, when she noticed her visitor sitting on the stone doorstep of her small, single-story home.
‘Hey there, Officer,’ she called to Leighton as she walked over to her front door. ‘We’ve really got to stop meeting like this.’
‘Ah, you’re home.’ Leighton smiled and stood up. ‘Look, I’m really sorry to bother you at home, Nina, but it seems like I’m on the blacklist down at the medical examiner’s HQ.’
‘It certainly looks that way,’ Nina said with
a smile. ‘Can I make you a coffee?’
‘No, thank you,’ Leighton said graciously. ‘I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for fraternising with the enemy.’
‘It’s fine, I’m not a fan of being told who I can and cannot speak to. In any case, it would be less obvious to step inside than stand talking out here in the open.’
‘Okay then,’ Leighton conceded, ‘a black coffee would be great.’
Nina led Leighton through the front door into a white apartment, which was stylish and wonderfully cool inside.
‘It feels great in here,’ Leighton said as he took a seat at the breakfast bar.
‘I have the air conditioner on a timer, it kicks in half an hour before I get home – if I manage to get home on time.’ Nina filled the kettle and switched it on.
‘You been here long?’ Leighton asked.
‘Three years now. I used to stay in bigger place, near the coast, but I got divorced and once I’d untangled myself out of that situation, I decided I would rather have somewhere small, but all mine.’
‘I get that,’ Leighton said.
The kettle reached a rumbling climax and Nina filled a cafetière, which sat between her and Leighton like an old-style TNT detonator.
‘What is it you want to know?’ Nina asked, as she pulled two mugs from a cupboard.
‘The girl that I came to see you about, the one with the flame tattoo on her neck, well I think they have arrested the wrong person for her murder,’
Nina paused and looked directly at Leighton. ‘Go on,’ she said.
‘And I believe that maybe the killer is still out there… picking up more victims.’
‘Okay, you have your theory, so what do you want from me?’ Nina pushed the plunger down on the coffee and divided the steaming liquid between the two mugs.
‘Well, I heard there was another body found, out at Lake Tanner, Jenna Dodds.’
‘Yeah, I know the one. The body was brought in on Tuesday afternoon. And I suppose you want to know if the two females could have been killed by the same person?’
‘Could they have?’ Leighton raised his eyebrows.
‘Yes.’ Nina shrugged ‘But in reality that doesn’t mean an awful lot, other than it is a possibility.’
‘It’s unlikely then?’
‘I didn’t say that. Look, I’ll tell you what I know. Partly because I like you, but mostly because I’m not convinced that your colleagues are too interested in pursuing this case. From my examination, both females were murdered. Jenna Dodds was already dead when she went into the lake. But that’s not the best – or worst – part, from your point of view. There is another, more significant connection between the two.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Both of the bodies I examined were missing a tooth. Now that’s not always surprising, especially if a victim has been assaulted, but both of these victims lost a lower front tooth around the same time of their deaths; I even noted this detail in my reports.’
‘You mean the victims had both been punched?’
‘No,’ Nina said, shaking her head.
‘What then?’ Leighton asked.
‘They’d been intentionally extracted.’
‘Oh.’ Leighton sipped his coffee. ‘How do you know?’
Nina rolled her eyes. ‘I know because I have been doing this job for more than a couple of weeks.’
‘Sorry,’ Leighton offered.
Nina sighed. ‘If a person is punched in the face, hard enough to knock a tooth out, there are other injuries: one or both lips would show signs of trauma, inside and out. There were no abrasions, on the inside of the mouth, on either of the bodies I examined. No other teeth on either side of the missing one were loose either. There was, however, some mandibular bruising, where the victims jaw was gripped, presumably when the tooth was removed. This was no crude removal with a big pair of pliers either. Whoever took these trophies was careful about it.’
‘Jeez,’ Leighton said as he shifted on his stool. ‘So he’s deliberately pulled a tooth from each of the victims; was this some type of torture?’
‘No,’ Nina said, and took a sip of coffee. ‘The procedure was carried out post-mortem in both cases. And I also heard this morning that the media have already got hold of this detail – most likely bribed somebody in Homicide for it – and they’re calling the killer The Dentist. Hardly a surprise.’
‘Shit. Media attention won’t help.’ Leighton frowned.
‘No,’ Nina agreed. ‘Once he has a national audience, the killer will have to up his game and live up to his celebrity reputation. Do you know about the third girl?’ she asked.
‘What?’ Leighton felt his stomach tighten.
‘I thought you would have heard at the station?’
‘No.’ Leighton shook his head. ‘I’m on compulsory leave. What happened?’
‘A third body was brought in first thing this morning. She had been dumped at the back of a vacant lot on North River Road.’
‘Shit, was she also missing a tooth?’
‘I couldn’t honestly tell you; I didn’t examine her – they’ve moved me up to the blood lab. But I did see her getting brought in, and you know what the weird thing was?’
‘What?’
‘Physically, she looked just like the others: same height, same hair colour – not all the same age, but close enough to pass for each other. So, whilst I couldn’t say for certain, I would say it’s a fair bet that the third girl will be missing a tooth too.’
Leighton realised with horror that the situation was making increasingly horrible sense.
‘Look, thanks for this, Nina. I know you’re taking a chance speaking to me,’ Leighton said with a smile.
‘Any time.’ Nina smiled. ‘Just don’t tell anyone in official circles that you were here.’
‘My lips are sealed,’ he said, and left Nina to put away her groceries.
Chapter Forty
Danny was using a damp flannel to mop his sleeping father’s forehead, when Leighton gently knocked on the frame of the open door. The room was small and too warm. The sweeping fan on the bedside table was doing little to lower the temperature.
‘Hi, partner, mind if I join the party?’ Leighton asked quietly.
‘Hey, Jonesy,’ Danny said softly, ‘of course, in you come. Grab a seat. I’m just trying to keep my papa cool. This place always feels like a pizza oven. They say it’s to keep him comfortable, but I reckon it’s to keep the patients half asleep. Makes life easier for the staff I guess.’
Leighton stepped gingerly into the white room and sat in a leather seat at the foot of the bed. Danny’s father was sleeping: a small oxygen mask was attached to his face.
‘I take it you got my message about the captain, huh?’ Danny asked.
‘Yeah.’ Leighton nodded. ‘I’m sorry, Danny, this is all my fault. I spoke to Gretsch this afternoon but he was in asshole mode – well, even more than usual.’
‘It’s okay, Jonesy.’ Danny smiled. ‘I pretty much knew the risks in coming up here. To be honest, this is where I should be. When he showed up here, this morning, I honestly didn’t care. He wanted to enjoy the moment of actually firing me – to see the shock in my face. In reality, I was just too tired to give a shit.’ Danny took his father’s hand as he spoke. ‘I don’t know if he’ll pull through, I just know I should be here with him. You were right about that.’
‘Even if I was, it’s still not right that you get in trouble; I’ll do whatever I can to fix it, you have my word.’ Leighton looked tired but determined.
‘It’s cool, Jonesy. I’ll find something else, hopefully. Right now, my priority is to be here with this old guy. Anyway, what have you been up to? Did you manage to dig up anything in Lakehead?’
‘Yeah, I did.’ Leighton sighed and sat back in the chair. ‘I reckon I’ve maybe got him, Danny. I might just know who the sonofabitch is.’
‘What you gonna do?’ Danny placed the flannel down on the bedside table and sat on
the edge of the bed.
‘I took what I’d found to Slater and Gretsch, but neither of them gives a shit. I’m thinking about following up the lead myself.’
‘What about the day job?’ Danny asked. ‘You know how Gretsch will act if he catches you moonlighting.’
‘That won’t be a problem, Gretsch has already suspended me.’
‘Jeez, Jonesy. Why did he do that – is it because you covered for me?’
‘Look, you know Gretsch, he would have found a reason to punish me regardless of anything we did.’
Danny slowly shook his head in disbelief. ‘I’m sorry, Jonesy. Man, I know this will end up on your record.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I was never destined to have a clean service record.’
‘So, what’s your big plan?’
‘I’m going to visit the suspect’s last known address. There was only his registered address in Lakehead in the system, but I looked up the parole records, and it turns out that Michael Stanton has relocated here, in the city. If there’s anything in his home connecting him to the abductions, we could possibly get him.’
‘You sure that’s a good idea? If you’re right then this prick is dangerous.’
‘Take a look at my life, Danny. I’ve got nothing to lose. Some young rookie, with a wife and a couple of kids, could eventually get sent in and end up dead.’
‘Everyone has something to lose, Jonesy. Why don’t you wait a couple of days? My sister will be back down from Vegas and then I could come with you.’
‘I’ve already dragged you into enough trouble. Look, I’m a careful old bastard. I’ll drop by the address and read the situation. If it looks hot, I’ll get out of there.’
‘You promise?’
Leighton stood up and saw that Danny’s expression showed fear. The guy was on the brink of losing his father, and he’d suddenly realised that everybody was vulnerable to mortality.
‘I’ll be careful, Danny, I swear.’
‘I hope so, Jonesy.’ Danny stood up and squeezed Leighton’s hand. ‘Thanks for coming over, man.’
