DEAD AIM - Angie Bartoni Case File #3 (Angie Bartoni Case Files Book 1)

by Marshall Huffman

“Excuse me. You’re Professor Hilton, correct?”

  “Yes. Can I help you?”

  “I believe you can. I represent a student of yours who seems to be having a small problem. I’m here to clear that up.”

  “Are you talking about Terrence Ashton?”

  The man took off his sunglasses and looked at Hilton for several seconds before speaking.

  “Professor. I would appreciate your handing over the SD card with the pictures you took.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

  “Then maybe I have the wrong Professor Hilton,” the man said.

  “If I had such a card. I assume some sort of a reward would be applicable.”

  “Oh my yes. That is exactly right.”

  “Humm. It just so happens that I do know where one can be located. Of course I would have to know what kind of reward we are talking about exactly.”

  “I can assure you it will be a great deal. In fact, more than you probably expect,” he replied.

  “Really? I would like to see the reward before I turned over the SD card. I mean after all, this is a business transaction of sorts, is it not?”

  “You are correct,” the man said and pulled out a silenced .22 and without seeming to move, shot the Professor in the thigh.

  Hilton fell down on the ground, holding his thigh.

  “My God, you shot me. I can’t believe this. You shot me,” he said, trying to stop the flow of blood.

  “The SD card Professor,” was all the man said.

  “Look. It’s not here. I put it in my safe deposit box.”

  “Oh dear, that’s a problem,” he said and shot the Professor in the other leg.

  Hilton screamed and grabbed the other leg.

  “Are you sure that’s where the card is?”

  “Please. I don’t have it here. Oh God, why are you doing this? I can’t give it to you if I don’t have it.”

  “That’s a real shame,” he said and pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger.

  The bullet hit Hilton in the shoulder and knocked him back. He screamed again but the man was already stepping over and stuck the silencer in his mouth.

  “A little less noise would be appreciated. Professor, I have seven more rounds in the magazine. I will keep shooting you in places that you will have a hard time recovering from. Knee caps, elbows, ankles and such. I’m just getting started. Now, I want you to think about that a moment. I want to know where the SD card is,” he said and took the barrel out of Hilton's mouth and set it on his right knee.

  “Think real hard before you answer.”

  “Please. Please don’t. You can have it. It’s inside the Advanced Biology Anatomy book on the shelf over there,” he said pointing.

  The man walked over and pulled the book down and opened it. A SD card was taped inside the front cover. He removed it and put it in his pocket.

  “Where is the camera?”

  “Over there,” the pointed.

  The man retrieved it as well.

  “That was a very wise decision Professor. Now your reward is that you can keep on living. Of course if you happen to discuss the contents of the card with anyone, say the police for example, well then I will be back to nullify the reward. Nullify. You like that word Professor? It has a certain aristocratic ring to it don’t you think?”

  The Professor wasn’t really listening to the man. He was moaning and lying back against the wall.

  The man reached over and pulled out Hilton’s computer. He placed the gun against the top and pulled the trigger five quick times. No one was going to get anything off that hard drive.

  “Thank you for your cooperation. It was a pleasure doing business with you,” he said and was gone.

  Hilton dragged himself over to his desk, pulled out the top drawer and removed the SD card taped to the bottom. He hurt like hell but he still managed to smile.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Dan and I were just getting back in the car when we heard about a shooting on campus. We just looked at each other. Captain Cox came running down the station stairs and ran to his car.

  “Let’s follow. He knows the fastest way to get there,” I told Dan.

  We raced off after the captain, lights flashing, and sirens wailing. He skidded to a stop and we pulled up beside him. He was dashing into the building before we could even get out of the car. The man was quick, I had to give him that. We could hear other police cars racing to the campus as well.

  Inside was turmoil. Everyone was gawking and milling around. We pushed our way through the crowd and raced down the hall. We blew past the room where the shooting took place and had to backtrack.

  “Whoa,” Dan said, looking at the guy stretched out on the floor.

  “I see at least three wounds,” I said to no one in particular.

  “Professor Hilton, can you hear me?” Cox was saying.

  “Professor. Do you know who did this to you?” he tried again but Professor Hilton wasn’t going to answer anything in the condition he was in. He had lost a lot of blood and he was going to need some expert medical care before we got any useful information from him.

  EMT’s came rushing in the room and more or less just shoved everyone aside. They immediately went to work on the Professor. Cox hovered nearby but he wasn’t going to get anything.

  “Got any idea what went down?” I asked Cox.

  He shrugged, “Not a clue. They weren’t trying to kill him unless they are the world’s worst shot. They were trying to get something from him is my best guess.”

  “I agree. Small caliber rounds, close range. Probably used a silencer with subsonic ammo. It was a professional hit. He must have given it up, whatever ‘it’ was. I’m somewhat surprised they didn’t just finish him off,” I said to Dan and Cox.

  “Well, all I can say is that it isn’t making a lick of sense to me at this point. What in the world could an anatomy professor have that someone would shoot him to get?”

  It was a darn good question and none of us could come up with an answer.

  I noticed the five holes in the top of the computer. I’m sharp like that. I mean, doesn’t everyone shoot their computer every once in a while? I know I’ve thought about it more than once.

  “Information. What kind I don’t know but they wanted to make sure the hard drive was toast,” I told Cox.

  “What? He discovered a new body part? What kind of information could he have that would get him shot three times?”

  “Guess we will just have to wait until he recovers,” I replied.

  The EMT’s seemed satisfied that he was stable enough to move so he was loaded on a gurney and wheeled out to the ambulance. A few seconds later they were rushing to the hospital on IUPUI’s campus. At least we didn’t have far to go to check up on him.

  ~~

  “How is he doing?” the captain asked when we got back to the station.

  “Still out. We won’t be able to talk to him until tomorrow,” I replied.

  “Any idea what the hell it was all about?”

  “Not a clue really. He knew something that either he shouldn’t have or discovered something that someone else wanted.”

  “Think it is related to the Alice Harding case?”

  “I don’t see the tie in just yet but anything is possible. Maybe he saw something,” I suggested.

  “Then why not just kill him?”

  “A warning maybe? Keep your mouth shut or else we will be back?” I said.

  “That seems like a pretty big risk,” the captain replied.

  “None of it makes very much sense at this point,” I said.

  “Then go make some sense out of it. I want some answers. Get this case off the books Bartoni,” he said and went back to his office.

  “You heard the man. Let’s go get this off the books,” I said to Dan.

  “Yes sir boss. Right away boss. Please don’t beat this tired ole body, boss.”

  “I’m going to kick your butt if you don’t get
a move on.”

  Am I scary or what? Probably or what. Dan didn’t look too scared.

  We decided that before we went on our little treasure hunt we should drop by the hospital and see how Professor Hilton was doing. I honestly wasn’t expecting much.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “Ha. I missed my calling. I should have been one of those psychics that can see into the future. What we got at the hospital was exactly what I thought we would get. A big fat nothing.

  Okay, we got a little bit. The bullets came from a .22 cal. and were subsonic. The faint imprint from the powder residue on his pants right knee suggested a silencer was used.

  We gathered up the bullets to take to the lab when we headed back that way. The good professor had a long way to go for rehab.

  “So when can we talk to him?” I asked the doctor.

  “I honestly can’t say for sure. He lost quite a bit of blood. I will say I think I can give you a more accurate time frame tomorrow. He gets through the night with no setbacks; he should be able to talk to you sometime later in the day.”

  “Then we will check in with you tomorrow. Thanks for your time.”

  ~~

  Elaine Gregory was sorry she had decided to pass up a chance to ride with her roommate. Now she was stuck at the hospital at the end of her shift and would have to call a cab or walk back to the resident hall.

  Why in the heck didn’t she just take the ride? Staying to hear the lecture on Meiosis and Mendelian Genetics had been interesting but now she was standing outside trying to decide what to do. It would probably take the cab company a good thirty minutes to have someone pick her up.

  Finally she decided to just brave the elements and walk back. The temperature had been falling all day and she wished he had worn her heavier coat.

  “Is that you Elaine?” a guy yelled as she was standing at the crosswalk.

  “Hey, what are you doing out this late?” she asked, stooping down to look in the window.

  “Just headed back to the room to study for Burgman’s test tomorrow.”

  “Ugh. He asks the dumbest questions. I hated taking his class.”

  “Where are you headed?” he asked.

  “Hoofing it back to the apartment,” Elaine told him.

  “Heck, I’ll drop you off. Get in.”

  “It’s out of your way. I don’t mind walking.”

  “Oh heck, it’s no big deal. Hop in; it’s not that far out of the way.”

  “You sure?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he said and leaned over and opened the door for her.

  “This is really nice. It’s my own fault for not lining up a ride in the first place,” Elaine replied.

  “How are classes going?”

  “So-so. Advanced Bio is kicking my butt but everything else is pretty good. How about you?”

  “Good. Well, mostly good. I’ve been a little distracted these past few weeks. I’m working on a new invention for the medical industry,” he told her.

  “No kidding? Wow, that’s really cool. Something you want to share?”

  “Well, it’s not really ready yet. I still have a few bugs to work out but when I do, I think it could be really big.”

  “That is so cool,” Elaine told him.

  “I’m not getting my hopes up just yet,” he said.

  “Have you got a name for your invention yet?”

  “I’ve kicked a few around but haven’t really decided yet.”

  “Hey, did you see that?” he said looking out her side window.

  She turned and looked out intently.

  “What? I...” was all she got out before a million volts of electricity from a stun gun caused her to convulse.

  “Sorry about that Elaine but I need a subject to try my invention on,” he said and headed for his makeshift lab.

  ~~

  The hunt for our GMC was no more successful than for the Blazer. It was apparent that either the type of vehicle was wrong or the color was wrong. At this point it didn’t make a lot of difference. Once again we were spinning our wheels.

  No one was happy about it, least of all me. I can usually figure out some angle and head off in a reasonable manor but this time I was stumped. This is not how I wanted to indoctrinate my new rookie partner. I don’t know what he was thinking but I know I wouldn’t have been very impressed.

  “Well that was a wasted day,” I lamented.

  “I guess some days are just like that.”

  “Still. I don’t even know where to begin. I think I’m going to go home and take a long hot bath and open a good bottle of wine. Maybe things will look better tomorrow.”

  “Well one thing we have going for us is that it can’t get much worse tomorrow. About the only place we can go is up.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” was all I said as I headed out to my little TR6.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  There are times when I really like what I do and other times not so much. This was a not so much time. We had pretty much exhausted all of our leads. The only thing that would help at this point was for the perp to come in and confess. I wasn’t putting much stock into that happening.

  “Bartoni,” the captain yelled from his office.

  I rather hate it when he does that. Everyone in the room always looks to see what is going on.

  “Yeah,” I yelled back. I was irritated okay?

  “Hilton is able to talk now,” he yelled back.

  What a numbskull. It didn’t even faze him that we were shouting to each other. It takes all kinds I guess. I grabbed Dan, who was well aware of where we were going, along with everyone in the room, and we headed to the hospital.

  ~~

  “You're doctor Lambert?”

  “That would be me. You must be the detectives here to talk to Mr. Hilton.”

  “We are indeed. You’re not the same doctor we talked to the other day,” I replied.

  “Yes, that would have been his surgeon, Doctor Saddler.”

  “So, how is he doing?”

  “Not bad all things considered. His real problem will be when he starts therapy. He is going to have a long road, especially his shoulder. Even though it was a small bore gun, it hit bone and ricocheted, causing massive tissue and bone damage.”

  “Can we talk to him now?”

  “Certainly. Room 415. He may be a little groggy; we are keeping him lightly sedated.”

  “415. Thanks,” I said and we headed down the hall.

  “I swear, every hospital is almost exactly the same,” Dan said as we were walking along.

  I almost pointed out that almost and exactly by definition aren’t the same thing but I wasn’t in my wiseass mode so I let it go.

  “Pretty much,” I said instead, “Same tile floors, beige walls and a smell that only a nurse could love.”

  Room 415 was halfway down the hall on the left hand side. I opened the door and we stepped inside. The professor was holding the remote control for the television but his eyes were closed.

  Dan looked at me and shrugged.

  “Professor Hilton,” I said.

  He slowly opened his eyes.

  “I must have drifted off,” he mumbled.

  “Professor, I’m Detective Bartoni and this is my partner, Detective Roberts. We would like to ask you a few questions if you feel up to it.”

  “I’m not very sharp right now. The drugs seem to make me less focused.”

  “We understand. We will try to keep it brief. Professor, do you have any idea who shot you?”

  “No. I’ve never seen the man before.”

  “So it was a man?”

  “Yes. He had a suit on and was carrying a briefcase. He was well dressed.”

  “Can you describe him?”

  “Six foot, probably two hundred pounds or about, light brown hair, brown eyes, no facial hair.”

  “Very good. Most people don’t remember all that well.”

  “I would think you would when someone is pointing a gun at yo
u,” Hilton replied.

  “So you would recognize him if you saw him again?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Excellent. I’ll have a sketch artist come by and maybe you can work up a good likeness.”

  “I’ll be right here.”

  “Maybe a more important question is why? If you don’t know him, why did he target you?”

  “I haven’t a clue. He just appeared at my office door, asked if I was Professor Hilton. When I acknowledged I was, he pulled out a gun and shot me.”

  “And he never said anything about why he was shooting you? I mean, it’s kind of strange that he shot in non-lethal areas. If he wanted to kill you he certainly could have done it,” I said.

  The professor didn’t reply. We waited. Nothing.

  “Professor, something isn’t adding up. Did he say if you talked about anything he would be back to kill you?”

  “I’m sorry. I just can’t help you any further. All I know is that he shot me three times. Why is a mystery to me,” he said.

  “Well, the thing is, he placed the silenced gun on your knee cap. That means he was stooping down as you lay there. Now why would he do that unless he said something?” I asked.

  “If he said anything, I didn’t hear him. I was in too much pain.”

  “Huh. How unusual,” I said to Dan.

  “Very. When a guy gets that close it’s to deliver a message.”

  “You would think,” I replied.

  “Well, like I said,” Hilton said, “If he did I didn’t hear him.”

  “Professor, please. That just doesn’t add up. This guy was a professional. A hired gun. Now he could have started with your knee cap. Instead he wanted to show you he meant business and if you didn’t do whatever he told you, the message was your knees would be next. So, why don’t you give us a break and tell us what he was after.”

  “I don’t know. I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling very well right now, I would like you to leave,” he said, raising his voice slightly.

  “Dan, what do you think?” I asked.

  “I guess he wants the guy to come back and finish the job or else he got what he wanted. Either way, we’re not getting the entire story.”

  “You are absolutely right,” I agreed.