Killed: Mystery Suspense (Alaska Mysteries #3)

by S. C. King

  The press was calling the killing another of the Alaska mysteries, but the policemen knew that there were answers somewhere, and they needed to find the right person to give them to the police.

  The morning of the third day after the murder, a group of six police officers was gathered in Stronghill’s police quarters. Wood was offering everybody coffee, while Davis was listening carefully to what they had found so far.

  “The snake was purchased from North Dakota,” Sergeant Collins was saying right then. “They have an illegal market for exotic animals in there. According to the local police department, just a few days ago they had found a warehouse full of snakes, lizards, and other reptiles. There were also two black mambas in there and according to the records, one had been sold just the day before.”

  “I suppose, they know nothing about the buyer?” Davis asked.

  “No, the transaction had happened during the night, with the money being left in a trash can and the mamba exchanged after that.” The sergeant shook his head. “I have nothing else.”

  “I went to check Mr. Lowson’s alibi,” Tom Rees added. “There are almost fifty people ready to swear that he was there from 11 a.m. to midnight of the same day. According to the medical examiner, Mr. Lowson junior died sometime in the afternoon of the same day.”

  “Fine, so we established that it is impossible for George Lowson to have killed his son, and as he has no motive as well, it is safe to assume that he wasn’t involved at all,” Wood concluded, and the rest of the policemen agreed. “What about the book?”

  “I went through the whole novel three times already,” Officer Jackson said. “It was obviously used as an inspiration by the murderer, but the book is so popular, it is impossible to track up all the people who had bought and read it.”

  “Are there any other similarities apart from the ones we already noticed?” Wood asked, as he was the one with the better knowledge of the novel.

  “No, the novel is all about the struggle of the father and the innocence of the son. In it, the murder has a deep psychological meaning and has to do with the unresolved homosexual desires of the father. So far, we had found nothing similar in our case.”

  “Good, thank you for the input,” Davis took a few notes and looked at the other officers in the room. Inspector Ross Stevens was one of the most promising policemen in the precinct, but Davis could swear that something about this case was bothering him. “What did you find, Inspector Stevens?”

  “I found the van, which delivered a package to the house at nine thirty in the morning,” he said, after clearing his throat and adjusting his jacket. “The delivery man has no idea who brought the package or ordered its delivery. According to their records, it was paid and brought to them by an old man, who paid in cash. He was probably paid to do the job. I tried to track him down, but he seems to have disappeared completely.”

  “Do you know to whom hewas supposed to deliver the package?”

  “To Mr. George Lowson,” Inspector Stevens said, after consulting with his notes.

  “Therefore, when Rick signed for it, he didn’t open it.” Wood concluded. “It must have been the killer who freed the snake and let it in his room.”

  “That is the only logical explanation,” Davis said, still watching the other policemen carefully. There was something off with Stevens today, but he couldn’t understand what. “Is there something else you can tell us about the case?”

  When everyone shook their heads, Davis almost cried out his frustration. They knew how the killing happened, they had a valid suspect, but there was nothing they could do to arrest him. “I need you now all on Mr. Jack Stone,” he said firmly. “I want to know everything about his past, his present and his future. Find out who he is, what he likes, who are his friends, his family, his employees. Everything...”

  “Collins you can be the first to follow him around, then the others can take turns,” Davis continued.

  “Yes, sir,” the officer said, ready to do the job. “Should I follow him everywhere, or just at night and when he does something suspicious?”

  “Start with full surveillance and once we learn his patterns, we will be able to relax,” Davis suggested. “Stevens, you should come with us to the house. I need another eye to look at the murder scene and the rest of the house. I still think that we are missing something very important, which is standing right in front of us.”

  Chapter 12

  Ross Stevens followed the detective and the sergeant inside the murder house reluctantly, but conscious of the fact that he should appear nonchalant. Davis had been looking at him with suspicion for the last hour now, and that was making Stevens nervous. He knew that there was no way for him to know the truth, but something in Stevens’ behavior must have triggered his attention.

  “My wife is refusing to let me see my son,” Stevens said out of the blue, as a way to explain his behavior. “We have been divorced for a year now, and she wants to take him from me for good.”

  “I am sorry to hear that,” Davis said, feeling even more suspicious. Stevens never had been one for talking and sharing. Was he trying to avoid any other questions? Or was there some other reason for his behavior?

  The three men examined the room and the house, searching for some new clue, but unfortunately once again they came out empty handed.

  “Maybe we are looking at it the wrong way?” Stevens said, once they had examined every single room in the house.

  “What do you mean?” Wood asked him, while Davis stayed aside and watched him carefully.

  “Everything seems very well organized and thought through, right?”

  “Right,” Wood agreed.

  “Then, why do we expect to find something left behind?”

  “Because criminals always leave something behind, inspector,” Davis joined the conversation.

  “You are right, of course, but these ones had done everything perfect so far...”

  “Not so perfect, considering that we know who the man behind it all is,” the detective continued to add.

  “But we still cannot arrest him, because we have no solid proof that would hold up in court. So I was thinking that we should concentrate on the psychological side of things. We should try to find out the psychological profile of the killer.”

  “You are right,” Davis agreed. “Let’s see what we know about him.”

  They were sitting in the big and fancy hall of the Lowson’s residence, after having searched the whole house. George Lowson had decided to stay at a friend’s house, still feeling too strongly the loss of his son.

  “So, the killer is not only crafty and brave, but also intelligent and able to plan ahead. He knew that the father would be missing and planed his actions around his timetable.” It was Wood, who started to list the things they knew about the killer. “He is also cold blooded and calculating, as he drugged him and then left him to be bitten by a deadly snake.”

  Wood continued to list up things, while Davis and Stevens listened. The detective had made sure to sit right in front of Stevens, so that he could watch his reaction. As he suspected, the Inspector looked very uncomfortable, especially when Wood made certain suggestions.

  “What do you think, Stevens?” Davis asked him directly.

  “I... I... don’t know...” he stuttered. “The sergeant is right...”

  “Tell me, Inspector, is there something else you know about this case that can help us?”

  “No... I... I don’t know...”

  Davis let him be after that, there was always the possibility that he was just tired and worried about his kid. The thought of Stevens having to do with the murder was too fantastic to even be considered.

  In the afternoon, Collins returned with the news that he had found something in Jack Stone’s bank account. “A large amount of money, almost half a million has been transferred to an anonymous bank account in Switzerland,” he explained. “The transfer had been made the very day Rick was found dead.”

  “Can we find o
ut to whom the money was transferred?”

  “I tried to follow the money, but the transfer was too well concealed.”

  “At least we made some progress,” Wood sighed.

  Chapter 13

  The next day, Davis woke up early, after a night full of memories and bad dreams. Rick Lowson’s funeral was going to be attended by the whole town, and he needed to make a lot of arrangements for it. The ceremony turned out to be very emotional, with many of the mourners crying.

  There were many people who had expressed the desire to speak during the funeral, and George Lowson had let them all speak. Some of them had prepared long and inspiring discourses, others were speaking from their hearts, but all achieved the same result – they managed to describe a great man, who had given his life for a good and honorable cause. Everybody seemed to know about the case Rick was working on, and considered Stone to be the one who killed him.

  For Davis, the whole thing passed on like a dream, and the only moment when he felt alive was the one when the father told the story about how Rick had been killed. George had been trying to find someone to blame for what had happened to his son, although he knew that Rick had died for what he believed in, saving people from the fate of the five victims of the drug company. There were people to blame for his death, but there was a lot to admire in him, as well.

  A long line of people passed in front of him, expressing their condolences, and asking if there was something they could do for him. Mr. and Mrs. Lowson thanked them, and patiently answered all their questions, while their minds were far away, remembering all the happy moments they had shared with their son.

  A familiar face caught Davis’ attention when most of the people had already left the cemetery, and the detective was surprised to see Stevens attending the funeral. The young inspector was dressed in an appropriate suit, with his dark hair arranged carefully, and his face pale and showing signs of lack of sleep.

  What was even more surprising was the presence of Jack Stone in the back of the cemetery. The man was standing alone, looking as if he was intended to be here, and was going to stay no matter what.

  Mr. Lowson tried to ignore him, but he couldn’t stop himself thinking that Rick was dead because of that man. The thought only added to his pain and sadness, as his son had died without having the chance to marry and start a family. How fragile the human life was! He remembered the pastor’s words, and looked again at the crowd, searching for the detective.

  Davis had always impressed him with his stoic demeanor and understanding. He admired the way he handled himself around blood and pain and couldn’t deny that there was something different about him. There weren’t many men who will purposely stay and help with a wound like the one of losing a child, but Davis had stayed. The detective hadn’t even asked for permission, he had simply stepped forwards and done what was necessary.

  “I am sorry for your loss” Davis said, and George was startled to find the detective in front of him. His thoughts had taken him away from the cemetery, and the people still standing in it.

  “Thank you for coming,” was all he could say.

  “I am so sorry, I didn’t have the chance to know Rick better. What everyone is saying about him is amazing. He is a real hero.” Davis continued to say nice things about his son, talking about the respect and love he had received from the people who knew him.

  “Yes,” George Lowson tried to smile. “Everyone who had known him, had always regarded Rick highly.”

  While they spoke, the people started to leave the cemetery and the presence of Jack Stone became more visible. When he started walking towards the new grave, George couldn’t take it anymore and stopped him before coming too close. “Your place is not here,” he said firmly.

  “I came to pay my respects,” Stone said calmly, while Davis motioned to two police officers to approach him. “I don’t want trouble.”

  “Then you choose the wrong place and the wrong time,” the grieving father said, and tried to hit him in the face. Davis, however, managed to stop him, and the officers escorted the other man outside the cemetery.

  “This is not the way, George,” he said.

  “I know, but that is all I can do...”

  George went to stand beside his ex-wife after that, and Davis was able to look around and observe Inspector Stevens’ behavior. The man was standing under a tree, and instead of looking at the grave was watching Stone’s car driving away. There was something different in the way he was watching the older man, and Davis couldn’t piece it together.

  “What do we know about Stevens and his past?” Davis asked Wood, who was standing beside him.

  “Not much,” he answered. “This is the first time I’ve seen him.”

  “Can you find out, please? There is something in his behavior that worries me.”

  Chapter 14

  Wood spent the whole night looking for information about Inspector Ross Stevens. In the morning, he had found facts about his parents and family, his college years, and even his first job as a security guard at a local office building. And then nothing, for almost two years, Ross Stevens disappeared from the face of the earth, leaving no clues behind for anyone to follow.

  Then came the police academy and the first years of service. Wood searched deeper, but he wasn’t able to find anything that he could call criminal or illegal. There was also no visible connection to Jack Stone, although, Wood could place them in the same city for the biggest part of their lives.

  “There is nothing,” he told Davis, later that day. “The man has some family problems and his wife left him a year ago, but there is nothing that connects him to this case.”

  “Good,” Davis muttered. “I prefer it this way, but there is something going on with the man. I just cannot figure out what it is.”

  The day went by quickly and uneventfully, and neither of them was prepared for the call around midnight about Stone leaving his house from the back door. Both Davis and Wood went to the small motel, situated almost outside the city, where Stone had been seen going in.

  “He went inside almost one hour ago,” the officer, who was watching the front door said. “We asked the front desk, but they cannot give us any information about the man who paid for the room. His name is John Smith, and he looked like a regular guy.”

  Davis shook his head, and took a better position amidst the trees behind the motel, where he had a better view of the room Stone had entered. Wood followed him closely, and they both prepared for a long night. Surprisingly to them all, however, Stone came out of the room only half an hour later, waved at the van where the policemen were hiding, and went to his car.

  Leaving the surveillance to the other police officers, Davis and Wood approached the room and knocked on its door. No one answered them and when they opened the door, they found the room empty, with the bed showing signs of being used and nothing else to show that someone had been in here.

  “The bathroom hasn’t been used,” Wood called from there.

  “Yes, but the bed has seen a lot of action.”

  “Do you think that while we were standing outside, Stone has been having sex in here?” The younger officer asked disgusted.

  “Probably,” Davis answered him. “We should collect evidence.”

  Stone’s house was a three stories tall Victorian structure with bright red brick and white trim. The rooms, however, were dark and still, when Davis and Wood arrived in front of it. They had left the motel and come to the house, hoping to speak with the man who had been escaping them for the better part of the last week.

  Davis knocked on the door, waited, knocked again, and turned to Wood. “Nobody is home,” he said uselessly.

  “Should be crawling with people. They said that he had at least five people taking care of the house and three living in,” Sam said. He checked the window for the third time.

  “Yes,” Davis said. “But, there’s still nobody here.” Wood nodded vaguely, and pulled the phone from his pocket. Davis shoved his han
ds in his pockets impatiently. “Ask them if he had left the house.”

  “No, he should be inside,” Wood said calmly. “They are watching the house from all sides.”

  Davis rolled his eyes and spread his arms, while still in his pockets. “Where is he then?”

  It took them half an hour to figure out that Jack Stone had never returned to the house in the first place. “He played us,” Davis said calmly. “And that is a sure proof that he has something to hide.”

  Chapter 15

  Stone was nowhere to be found, so Davis agreed to split the scene. Wood was going to speak to the families of the other trial victims, while Davis would keep searching for Jack Stone.

  “I’ll meet you at six, okay? If you want, I can come to get you,” Davis said, looking up at Wood from inside the car. The younger man nodded and put his bag over his shoulder.

  “Find everything you can, we are running out of time,” Davis insisted before starting the car.

  As it turned out, Joan Martines, the first victim’s wife, died in April. The family of the second victim moved to another state after her death. So Wood spent an hour with the husband of the third victim, telling him about Rick’s death and Stone’s involvement in it. Mr. Kurk looked at him seriously and said, “That sounds about right. Those people have no morals at all.”

  He said he could tell him anything else, but Wood could tell that he was hiding something. He could also tell that Mr. Kurk wouldn’t ever tell him the truth. He thanked him for the cooperation, and told him that someone would be in touch with him if there were any breaks in the case.

  The widow of the fourth victim stared at him, stone-eyed, for several seconds before slamming her door closed. Wood had been warned about her, but he still wanted to meet her in person. Mrs. Jeferson had been disgusted with the whole system and was refusing to cooperate, even if that meant that she wouldn’t get justice for the death of her husband.