“According to her husband, it was strictly the one night, but I have my doubts. I’m beginning to question whether she was still involved. Jessie thinks our victim knew her killer, so if that’s the case, maybe this Morton guy killed her.” They continued the discussion comparing notes about their cases. Their conversation was interrupted by Guardino’s partner, Zeke Wells.
“There’s a body out in Riverside Park in one of the tunnels and the victim fits the description of Velma Vincent.”
“Oh no. Want to come,” he asked them. “You might pick up some clues about Morton.”
“Absolutely.”
Jessie twisted her long red hair and piled it atop her head, clipped it into place, and covered it with her NYPD baseball cap before exiting their vehicle. She’d learned long ago to cover her head when working a crime scene or she’d walk away smelling as bad as it did. She was familiar with this particular tunnel in the Riverside Park area because she’d ridden the Amtrak through the tunnel on several occasions when she and her mother would visit her aunt. Years later, she remembered having a conversation with one of her peers when a discussion of the tunnel came up. That's when he'd asked her if she'd seen the hordes of vagrants living in this little hideaway. She remembered him telling her his buddies were always trying to chase them out to no avail and referred to it as the hôtel sans-abri, ‘hotel of the homeless’. She wasn’t anxious to walk into the tunnel with its sickening stench, but that was part of the job.
Together, the four detectives climbed up a small hill between the off ramp and the train tracks where a uniformed cop stood at the entrance. Several vehicles were parked along the path leading to the tunnel.
“Boy, I’ll bet Amtrak is really ticked off they had to redirect their trains,” Wells said.
Guardino released a chuckle. “Yeah, I’ve had experience with Amtrak, and no sir, they are not happy at all.”
The officer guarding the scene was the first to approach the foursome. “I’m sorry, this is a crime scene. No one is allowed except those who have been approved.”
Mike was the first to speak up. “We’re Detectives Guardino and Wells of the three-four,” he said. As a course of habit, they automatically presented their shields.
“We were told this victim matched the description of a woman we’ve been trying to reach.”
The officer turned to Zach. “And you?”
“We’re Detectives Gerard and Kensington from the one-two. We came along because we believe the perpetrator of this murder is the same person we suspect is involved in another killing.”
Officer Martin lifted the yellow tape to allow them to enter, but stopped when two other detectives walked across the heavily stoned area.
“Who are these people?” the older of the two shouted. Dressed in heavy coats, they walked aggressively toward them. One man was young and handsome, nicely dressed, while the other, the older of the two, was a hugely overweight man with a limp and dressed rather shabbily. Jessie’s first thought was that he would have made a thousand- dollar suit look like he’d bought it off the rack at a thrift shop. Officer Martin turned his back on the foursome and spoke to the detectives who glanced at them while they waited.
“Wonderful,” the hefty guy said. “Looks like we can leave this scene and turn it over to you, Detective Guardino.” They gave a one-finger salute and walked back out of the area.
“That was easy,” he said. “I guess they have their quota of closed cases for the month,” Guardino said deadpanned voice, then stepped forward and spoke to the patrolman. “What is your name, officer?”
“I’m Officer John Martin.”
“Can you fill in the details for me? Who called this in?”
“I believe it was a vagrant, but once I got here, as is usually the case, no one was willing to admit to being the one to call or to know anything about what happened.”
“We understand completely.” Guardino motioned for Jessie and Zach to join him.
In the distance, CSIs searched the area for leads in the generator-lighted area. Rays of light streamed through the overhead grates like a beacon from the street above, and hovered over the victim’s body like a spotlight. A strange thought passed through Jessie’s mind wondering if the victim had ever been in the spotlight before and what she’d think about it now?
It seemed like seconds later that the terrible smell hit Jessie and made her eyes tear, but then she got a whiff of something stronger like an animal rotting as she walked deeper into the tunnel. A short distance inside, she looked down at the tracks and noticed what appeared to be two squirrels whose bodies had been severed in a clean cut from the train’s bladed wheels. It appeared they hadn’t been there very long. As they continued deeper into the well of the tunnel, the temperature dropped dramatically. Jessie shivered, but was more aware of the smell than anything else. “Argh, god, that smell is enough to make me want to puke my guts up.”
“Yeah, cover your nose for this one, Jessie,” Guardino warned. “The stench in here will have your eyes tearing.” Guardino half laughed. “See what you’ve been missing?”
“That’s for sure. It hardly smells like nectar of the gods.” She coughed and covered her nose with the scarf she had wrapped around her neck. Looking around the crowded crime scene, she noticed the place was littered with garbage, piles of clothing strewn about, and cardboard boxes shaped into teepee like homes which appeared to be the style of choice as a place to sleep. Most of the makeshift homes were empty, but the territorial markings were very evident. Some vagrants were still sleeping—most likely still drunk from spending the change they begged for from a few naïve passersby under the auspices of giving them money for food. Graffiti lined the walls from one end to the other. Some creatively done, others in a haphazard way.
Guardino and Wells moved closer to the victim. Mike compared the woman’s features against the photograph he held in his hand and confirmed the victim was in fact Velma Vincent. “This woman has no coat on. Did you notice that?” Wells asked and turned to the uniform. “Was the victim wearing a coat when you arrived on the scene?”
A surprised expression capped Martin’s face. “Come to think of it, Detective…no, she wasn’t.”
Zach and Jessie looked to one another and leaned toward Guardino. “Our victim’s coat was missing too. It looks like our killer has a coat fetish. This is starting to sound like we have a serial killer on our hands, only this time, we’re going to catch the bastard.”
“Remember the Reaper?” Guardino said. “I believe coat stealing was his trademark, wasn’t it?” Zach nodded. “He left something else too. What was it?” Guardino asked.
“His initials smeared in blood on something close by to make sure we gave him credit for the killing.”
“That’s it,” Guardino said wagging his finger in the air.
“Are you guys thinking what I am? That this Morton guy is trying to copy the Reaper?” He gave a half shrug. “Or maybe the Reaper is back.”
Guardino gave a scornful shake of his head. “He might be looking for the same kind of notoriety. The bad part about this is he’s probably certain he’ll pull this off just like the Reaper who never got caught.”
“Hmm,” Jessie said, “The fact that Morton knew both ladies, intimately or otherwise, makes him the prime suspect. He certainly had a motive to kill them.”
“Well, I’d better find out what the ME has to say so I can notify the victim’s family, but I’d appreciate you contacting Missing Persons to give them a heads up, Jessie, to let them know we’re pretty certain it’s the Vincent woman.”
“Okay,” Gerard said to Guardino, “you have your hands full here. Jessie and I will leave you to your task. Can you call me after you’ve investigated the victim’s residence?” He nodded. “Looking forward to working with you on this case.”
“You too, Gerard.” He gave a slight wave to Jessie as she turned and followed Gerard. Stepping outside the tunnel, she inhaled a deep cleansing breath. “Boy I really had an eer
ie feeling inside that tunnel.”
“Like what?”
“It felt like we were being watched.”
“I think you’ve been watching too much television.”
“Yeah, right. That’s just what I’ve been doing in my spare time.”
The pair made their way along the walkway. Seeing the Hudson River brought back many memories, but one in particular kept flashing through her mind. She didn’t say anything, because there was no point in dangling the past in front of his nose. But he brought it up.
“Hey, do you remember the night we had a picnic here?” Zach asked.
“So you do remember.”
“Of course, I remember.” He twisted his face to look at her. “How could I ever forget that night?”
She changed the subject. That was the night he’d asked her to marry him. She never did respond and he apparently got tired of asking so he stopped. “So what’s next?”
“You mean for us?” he asked.
“No. For the case.”
He shook his head. “My bad.” He cleared his throat and changed the topic. “Looks like we have multiple leads to investigate. And since they didn’t find the kid, I’m thinking Morton must have him. I suppose that would be better than not knowing where he was…”
“I’ll call Jonesey in a little later to see if he’s gotten any more information. I’m sure Vincent’s parents are all over this case.”
“Okay. Hey remember Krogen’s Deli in City Island?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“They closed it a while ago and it looked like it was going to remain vacant, but someone bought it and turned it into a Greek restaurant. They’re having the grand opening this weekend. Want to go?” He caught her making a face. “As friends of course,” he added. “But, I really want to go to see what they’ve done with the place. If you don’t want to, I’ll ask someone else. Hmm,” he said tapping his chin, “I wonder who I should invite? I think maybe Morgan would jump at the chance,” he teased. “What do you think?” His smug expression caused her to give him a raspberry. “Is that a ‘yes’ then?”
12
COMPARING THE PHOTOGRAPH of Ralph Morton against the surveillance footage obtained from two weeks prior to Carly Hawkins’ murder, Zach squinted his eyes to see if the two faces matched. “Okay, the time stamp says 5:45 AM,” he pointed. “This is her morning jog. There she is running down Eighth Avenue. Not too much traffic, but a few cars driving by at moderate speeds.” He leaned in closer. “There’s that white car again.”
“But that could be anyone’s white car,” Jessie said.
“True, but if the other surveillance videos show the same white car, I’m going to say he’s been harassing her on a regular basis, and wants her to know he’s watching every move she makes.”
Jessie shook her head. “I don’t agree with you completely. I don’t think she ever ended that affair with Morton. She wanted everyone to think she had. If Harlan didn’t know she was going for her nightly walks, then she was free to do her own thing. I suspect she was using that time to be with Morton.”
“Alright then. Using your premise, if Morton was harassing her, and if he’s the one who killed her, then she must have broken it off with him. From what we’ve heard about him, he’s one of those guys who gets even with anyone who hurts him.”
“Maybe I’m all wrong, but if that was Morton following her, he wouldn’t have kept it up for two years.” Jessie concluded. “I would have thought he’d have given up on her.”
“Now that’s a loaded statement if I ever heard one. I haven’t given up on you.” Jessie tipped her head to the side and gave him a cautioning glance, bringing a smile to Zach’s face. “I’m just sayin’.” He stretched his hand out and squeezed hers, then continued. “I imagine the drama was pretty thick in the Hawkins household between Harlan’s controlling power over her—his dislike for her family members, and his need to watch her every move. Sneaking out at night was something she could do without him knowing, and I’ll bet it felt damn good to her.”
Zach clicked start for the next surveillance footage and lowered his head while pointing to the screen, “Hey wait a minute. I think this is that same white car. It looks like it’s slowing down.” They both squinted and moved in closer to the screen.
“I think you’re right.”
“Okay,” he said rewinding the tape. “Let’s look at the evening footage again.” He flipped the switch back on and pressed the play button. “Thank God, this footage is much clearer. Okay,” he pointed, “there’s Carly, and what do you know, there’s that white car again. I think we just found the answer to my question.”
“Look at the sudden change in Carly’s demeanor,” Jessie said. “Looks like she’s trying to mingle in with the crowd. The guy’s got his window down. He’s saying something to her.” Jessie’s eyes were glued to the screen. “She doesn’t like what he’s saying because she’s taking off like a shot around the corner into the alley. Look at that, he stepped on it.” Jessie whistled and unfolded the printout from the database. “Stop the film for a minute. I need to check to see what kind of car this creep drives.” Scanning the list on the monitor, she shook her head. “Nope” she exclaimed, “no car listed.” She tapped the screen with the tip of her pen. “I wish we could see the license plate to confirm whose car it is.”
“Let’s back up the footage to where she’s walking at a normal pace again. I’m hoping we can get a better look at this guy’s face,” Zach said.
“Take it from where she’s walking slowly,” Jessie pointed. “Yeah, there’s that scared expression. It looks like a Sebring and it has slowed down considerably. There he is lowering the window and his mouth is moving, but that’s all I can see with his cap pulled down so low, it’s covering his face.” She held up her hand. “Okay, stop it here.” Their eyes glanced from the screen to the picture. “It’s no use. I thought we might be able to match something up with the photo, but that’s not happening.” She stopped talking when she heard Zach’s cell phone ring.
“Gerard here.” He mouthed Guardino’s name. “Let me put you on speaker.” He pressed the key. “Okay, shoot.”
“We’ve just learned Morton apparently moved in with a guy by the name of Greg Keenan about three months ago. They’re living in a beat up old mobile home in the trailer park on King Street.”
“That figures. If he’s our guy, the address matches him perfectly. It’s the dregs of the city. Are you going over there?”
“Yes, we’re on our way. You’re welcome to join us?”
“One question before you hang up. Any idea what kind of car this Greg Keenan drives?”
“It looks like he owns a white Sebring.”
“Bingo!” Zach said snapping his fingers. “If this Keenan guy let Morton drive his car, then we’ve got him!” he gave Jessie the thumbs up sign. “Do we need more backup in case the questioning doesn’t go well?” he asked Guardino.
“We’re bringing two guys with us and there’s you two. I don’t think it’ll be necessary.”
“So then it sounds like you’re pretty certain he’s the killer of these two women. Do you have more information to share?”
“It’s just my gut that tells me he’s the killer. I’m concerned for the kid though, but we haven’t heard about any ransom calls. We’re heading out right now. Meet you there,” Guardino said and disconnected.
“Jessie, get your vest on.” His concern brought a smile to her face.
“It’s beginning to sound like we might just be able to solve both cases.” He made a face, “Yeah, like anything ever happens this quickly.”
“I’m wondering about the missing kid, and where he is,” she said, wiggling in place trying to adjust the weight of the vest so it felt comfortable on her shoulders. Reaching for the straps, she wrapped it around her waist, sealing the Velcro in place, then slipped on her jacket and zipped it up.
Passing their captain meandering down the hall toward his office, Zach gave him
a brief update. “We think Detective Guardino found our guy. Jessie and I are on our way over to King Street.”
“Stay safe.”
Walking out to the car, Zach reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I love you.”
She was warmed by his concern to make sure she knew how he felt before they headed out to the mobile park. “Me too, you.” She winked at him. Removing her gun, she checked the magazine and reloaded it.
13
GUARDINO AND HIS MEN were already at the site when the detectives arrived. Seeing them, he motioned for them to come closer. “No one is responding,” he said standing close to the door of the mobile home. “The owner of the mobile park said Keenan, who’s the grounds keeper, asked for a few days off. He said it was surprising, because Keenan never takes any time off.”
Jessie noticed Detective Wells, Guardino’s partner, exiting a mobile home across the street. He nodded an acknowledgement to Jess and Zach. “I’ve been canvassing the neighbors. The guy I just spoke to said both men left on Thursday . . . that was the same day as Vincent’s death. He wasn’t sure where they were going, but said they’d left early in the morning and he hasn’t seen either of them since. This guy next door,” he nodded, “said he thought they left yesterday.” He shrugged. “You know what they say about eye witnesses?”
“Yeah, we’ve experienced that a few times ourselves,” Jessie sighed.
“Both neighbors agree they saw a small child with them, especially since kids aren’t allowed in this park. Seeing the kid’s arm in a sling, witness number one said he thought he heard them say something about taking the boy to Disney on Ice or something like that. I guess a little eavesdropping never hurt anyone.” He looked at the two detectives. “And, something else came up while we were talking. Was anyone from your department sent out to question these neighbors?”
“No,” Zach said, shaking his head realizing Guardino must have forgotten to tell him about their mystery detective. “It seems someone has been impersonating a detective and has managed to interview our witnesses before we’ve been able to get to them.”
Deadly Obsessions (Kensington-Gerard Detective series Book 3) Page 11
