THE PSYCHS OF MANHATTAN

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THE PSYCHS OF MANHATTAN Page 14

by C. C. Harris


  He saw the neighbor’s back light flick on and heard a swing door slamming. He then heard footsteps approaching.

  ‘Shut up, you useless, good-for-nothing dog.’

  The neighbor stumbled back to the house, crashing into a trash can. ‘Fuckin’ can and fuckin’ dog.’ The old drunk didn’t have a clue he was a couple of feet away from a killer.

  Fuckin’ piss-head, the doctor thought. He remained crouched. The neighbor slammed his door, still cussing. The doctor stepped slowly to the back door. It should be an easy job. He jiggled a piece of wire in the back lock. The sound of a click was music to his ears.

  He made his way through the wooden home until he reached the client’s bedroom. The door was shut, and he could see a light peeping from under the door. He heard someone mumbling and pacing. Without wasting time, he made his way to the living room where he surreptitiously placed the bloodied knife under the client’s couch. How easy it is to fool them all, he thought.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Trigger-happy

  It was 9.00 am when James got his wakeup call.

  ‘Hi James, it’s Sarah. I know it’s early, but we have another dead body.’

  ‘Jesus! Who this time?’ James asked.

  ‘We have a dead psychiatrist. It’s the doctor’s colleague, Dr Lee Cameron. He was found on his office floor this morning. He’d been stabbed in the chest. From the look on his face, he wasn’t expecting it. The body is in full rigor mortis which means he could have been killed yesterday afternoon. I’m waiting on the time of death from the coroner’s office. There goes one of our suspects.’

  ‘Who found him?’ James asked.

  ‘His personal assistant found him this morning. I’m on my way there now to interview her.’

  James felt a shot of adrenalin. Retirement doesn’t give me this feeling, he thought.

  ‘What about Dr Ellison?’

  ‘He’s already been interviewed. Apparently, he was with clients all afternoon.’

  By 10.00 am, they were ready to interview Dr Cameron’s assistant. She was sitting at the front desk crying, with a handkerchief pressed against her mouth.

  ‘Hello Jennifer, I’m Sarah and this is James. We’re from the New York Police Department.’

  Jennifer nodded as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  ‘We know this is an extremely stressful time for you but unfortunately, we do have to ask you a few questions. Do you know anyone who might want to hurt the doctor?’

  ‘Absolutely not. He was the kindest man in the world. I don’t understand why anyone would hurt him.’

  ‘Did you notice anything unusual happening in the last couple of days? Did he seem a little different, or was there something you noticed with any of his clients?’

  ‘Not that I can think of. He was a little agitated yesterday afternoon, that’s all.’

  ‘What do you mean by agitated?’ James asked.

  ‘He just didn’t seem himself and he said I could leave early. I didn’t want to pry but now I wished I had.’

  ‘Can we see his appointments for the week?’

  Jennifer opened Lee’s calendar on the computer. ‘Here are all his appointments.’

  Sarah peered at the screen and saw he was fully booked. ‘Can we take his laptop to check his clients?’

  ‘Of course.’ Jennifer then scribbled a code on a piece of paper. ‘Here’s the doctor’s password if you want to access any of his files, emails, or his patient appointments. I wish I could help you more. I hope you get the monster who did this.’

  ‘Thanks for your help, Jennifer. We’ll call you if we need any further information.’

  James scanned Doctor Cameron’s office. He noticed a client’s mental health assessment form on the doctor’s desk labeled ‘Daniel Mackie’. He put on his gloves and carefully picked up the form. ‘Looks like we’ve got something here,’ he said quietly. ‘According to this assessment, a client called Daniel Mackie threatened his life. He’s been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. It may be worth checking him out.’

  He turned the form over and added, ‘Well, well, what have we here?’

  ‘What’s up?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘There’s no blood on the front of the form but blood marks on the back. It’s been placed on the desk after the doctor was stabbed.’

  ‘Someone wants us to read this,’ Sarah said.

  ‘That’s what I’m thinking.’ James looked at Doctor Cameron’s appointments. ‘And from what I can see here, the doctor saw Daniel Mackie at 2.00 pm. Looks pretty sus. Daniel’s assessment form sitting on the doctor’s desk screaming Read me! Read me! I’m a client with the means, the motive, and the opportunity. Sounds too convenient.’

  ‘Interesting,’ Sarah responded. ‘Something doesn’t fit. If this client is the murderer, how did he know when the Doctor had finished with clients and that his assistant had left early? Did he re-enter the building and take a chance, or did he stay hidden somewhere in the building until he knew the doctor was on his own? How about we pay this client, Daniel Mackie, a visit and in the meantime, I’ll get the boys to check the building’s CCTV footage.’

  ‘Good idea,’ James responded.

  It was still early when they hit the road to the suspect’s house. Sarah let her team drive ahead. She hadn’t had breakfast, so a quick drive-through meal would do.

  ‘Do me a favor James.’ Sarah pointed to a left turn. ‘There’s a Burger King drive-thru. Can you get me a burger?’

  ‘You live on takeaway Sarah.’

  ‘It’s quick and easy. I’m too busy to cook…anyway, one day when I get out of this job, I’ll make some changes.’

  It didn’t take long for Sarah to devour her vegan burger and skull a soy latte.

  ‘Where’s your favorite bacon burger?’

  ‘I’ve changed my eating habits. I became a cop. Meat reminds me of our victims. Our victims cry before they’re killed. Cows cry before they’re killed. I can’t eat an animal that’s suffered because of me. Besides, I had a case where a killer skinned his victim alive, just like skinning an animal for its hide when it’s still kicking. I can’t stomach the thought of…’

  Sarah was interrupted by the crackle of her radio. She received the worse possible news. Daniel Mackie was dead. He was gardening at the back of his property when he saw the cops and charged them with a garden tool. A rookie shot him on the spot. Not only that, it wasn’t one of her boys. He was a temporary fill-in. Her stomach sank. She couldn’t believe her ears.

  ‘Jesus, they probably scared the hell out of him. I told them he had schizophrenia. I didn’t want him dead. What were they thinking?’ Sarah was fuming. ‘Why the hell had they gone in like Robocops with guns blazing? I can’t believe a rookie, who knows stuff-all about mental illness, took out a possibly innocent man and why the hell didn’t I know about this temporary fill-in?’ Sarah closed her eyes as she processed the news.

  ‘It’s bad enough he had mental health issues but thank God he wasn’t black,’ James responded.

  Sarah looked at James and let out an exasperated sigh. ‘With everything going on in the media lately I don’t think it will matter who it is. The media will be after us like bloodhounds. Our credibility is shot as it is without this fuck-up and how the hell do I explain this to his family? I feel like I fired the bullet. I feel like absolute shit.’

  ‘You feel like shit because you care Sarah and you’re a good cop.’

  ‘Well, I’m not feeling like a good cop. I’m picturing him getting killed for minding his own business and enjoying his garden whilst I’m crapping on about myself. If only I’d got there sooner. If only I’d missed breakfast. Bloody drive-thru. I could have waited.’

  ‘Don’t go blaming yourself. You’ve been working around the clock and you’ve got to eat.’

  ‘Why there aren’t screening tests that weed out these bloody rogue rookies who think they are the judge, jury and executioner. Now, I can smell a rat and this one stinks. The doctor’s colleague ends u
p murdered and a client is now the dead suspect. A client with suspected paranoid schizophrenia is an easy target to frame. It’s just all too easy, don’t you think James?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘And speaking of rats, I’m betting Dr Cameron was going to rat on his colleague. Now I’m facing another dead end and I’ve got a massive headache. I need some pain killers and your inspiration James.’

  ‘With Dr Ellison as our prime suspect, I think it’s time to get a snapshot of his past and pay his mom a visit. What do you think?’ James asked.

  ‘Let’s do it,’ Sarah responded. ‘She lives in a retirement home on Long Island. From what I can remember the home is in Southampton.’

  ‘What about other family members?’

  ‘Dr Ellison is her only child. From our records, he lived with his mom, stepdad, and stepbrother on a farm during his childhood.’

  ‘Where does his stepbrother live now?’

  ‘Nowhere,’ Sarah replied. ‘He was accidentally killed on a camping trip. He fell off a ridge…and that’s not all, the doctor’s stepdad allegedly suicided.’

  James reached for his notebook. ‘Death surrounds this psychologist. His stepbrother falls off a ridge, his stepdad shoots himself, and now his colleague is found lying in a pool of blood. This guy either has a lot of bad luck, or he’s a habitual killer. When do we leave to speak to his mother?’

  ‘I’ll interview this gun happy rookie and break the sad news to Daniel’s family, then I’ll organize a chopper to take us to Long Island.’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ James responded.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Automatic Associations

  The chopper was on its way from the Floyd Bennett Field to the precinct rooftop where Sarah and James stood waiting. The commissioner had approved the use of his ‘baby’, a Bell 412EP helicopter costing over $9,000,000, carrying top-secret weapons worth more than $4,000,000. It was not only the fastest chopper in New York, but it was also a smooth ride. The chopper was equipped to fight local crime and designed for counter-terrorism.

  The chopper was a beauty and so was the pilot. Kate had been piloting for ten years and oversaw the NYPD’s navigation team. She was not only smart but also drop-dead gorgeous. There wasn’t a male member of the force who didn’t want her. Both her father and grandfather had been cops with bravery medals to their name, so the force was in her blood.

  Sarah had a fear of flying and heights, but she trusted Kate. If they had to land on a tin roof, Kate could do it. Sarah had to fly almost every week, but she still felt breathless as her heart beat pounded her chest. No matter how much she rationalized her fear, she always second guessed whether she was having a heart attack. She wondered whether it was a fear inherited from her ancestor’s experiences. If personality can be predisposed, why not a fear of heights? she thought. Then she realized she sounded like James.

  She and James strapped themselves in and Kate gave Sarah a reassuring nod. In seconds, Kate was flying the team to Southampton at a hundred and thirty miles per hour over. The Hudson River shimmered with reflections of the city’s skyscrapers and the city looked more like a toy town.

  Sarah focused on her mission and tightened her seat belt as they flew over Ellis Island and past the Statue of Liberty. As a child, she remembered climbing Liberty’s spiral metal stairway on a school excursion. It was a time to mess around and show off. Her class climbed to the top in single file to the crown. Happy memories, she thought. She fixed her gaze on the Lady, silently asking for her help.

  She dreamed of having a vacation without the presence of death and paperwork. She imagined herself in a Piazza, overlooking an ocean of endless blue and enjoying homemade pasta and red wine. She promised to take better care of herself. Her work had taken its toll and she needed time out. The last thing she wanted was to end up a basket case with post trauma.

  Sarah was the first to admit her job came first, but she was yet to find a man who understood that. It wasn’t the glass ceiling that made it difficult for her, it was more the lack of support once she was in a relationship. She noticed her male colleagues always acknowledged their families on award nights. ‘I’d like to thank my wife and children for being there for me. This award wouldn’t have been possible without them.’

  Was there was a man out there who would support her career? She envied her colleagues’ relationships but refused to dwell on them self-pityingly. In the end, she convinced herself she didn’t need a man, it was a waste of time and energy. Her rap sheet for relationships were full of heartache. Sarah wondered whether she lacked the ability to emotionally connect but for now, she didn’t care. She enjoyed her life and nothing else mattered, she convinced herself.

  Sarah adjusted her headpiece and took time to read her notes.

  ‘You have some more information on Doctor Ellison, James?’

  ‘Sure do.’ James flicked through his notebook. ‘The doctor has some very interesting hobbies.’

  ‘What do you mean by interesting?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Our Doctor Ellison is a collector of semi-automatics and a trophy hunter of the big cats. He spends his vacations in Africa and the rest of his spare time at a shooting range. I wonder what his taste for hunting is when he’s on home soil.’

  ‘Anyone who kills wildlife for kicks is sick,’ Sarah responded.

  ‘I have something else that’s interesting.’ James handed over an FBI report.

  ‘What is this?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Evidence to prove that the doctor is an avid watcher of porn. The type of porn that is found on the dark web. There’s nothing romantic or glamorous about the bondage he’s been watching. The main star ends up snuffed off the planet.’

  ‘I know they are still circulating but how did you manage to get your hands on this info?’ asked Sarah.

  ‘I have a friend in the FBI Cyber Division.’

  ‘Having this FBI report is valuable for getting producers and suppliers, but his dark hobbies may not be enough to get a conviction,’ Sarah said.

  ‘We want a jury to know about his porn habit, trophy hunting and his collection of guns. Trophy hunters are void of empathy. Watching a snuff movie is no different. We want the jury to associate his hobbies with a killer who is living out his sick perversions by killing his clients.’

  James gave a death stare beyond Sarah’s face as if he was looking directly in the eyes of a killer. ‘Our so-called squeaky-clean psychologist won’t know what’s hit him when I’m done. Capital punishment is too quick. I’m going to make sure that son of a bitch rots in a cell for the rest of his life. A prison for that bastard will be music to my ears. The first thing he’ll see when he wakes up, will be his cell walls. The last thing he’ll see when he goes to sleep will be those walls. He’ll have a constant dose of his own medicine. A daily reminder he’s in a cage, trapped forever.’

  Sarah was relieved to have James on her team. His anger was productive. She needed his insight and energy to get their killer before he kills again. She knew the longer the killer was on the streets the longer the killing trail.

  THIRTY-SIX

  Compassionate Listening

  Sarah and James had a smooth flight and their chopper landed on the grounds of the Kennedy Island Retirement Home in Southampton.

  They ducked under the helicopter blades and walked to the historical mansion. A nurse was waiting to greet them.

  ‘Welcome. I’m Lauren, Rose Ellison’s nurse.’

  ‘Hi Lauren. Nice to meet you. I’m Lieutenant Wilkins and this is Detective Christianson from the NYPD.’

  ‘I was told you were on your way. It’s not every day we get a helicopter landing on our lawn,’ Lauren said.

  Sarah looked up at the French chateau. ‘And it’s not every day I see a beautiful ocean mansion like this,’ she said.

  ‘It was built in 1915. The original owner made his fortune in the steel industry.’

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Sarah responded. ‘Especially the stone terrace and rose
garden.’

  ‘Many of the mansions along here were demolished but lucky for us, this one was restored. The owner left it in his will as a retirement home.’

  Sarah wondered what secrets were buried with the previous occupants and how the doctor could afford such a palatial retirement home for his mom.

  ‘Rose is waiting for you. Come this way.’

  Sarah and James followed Lauren along a pebbled pathway and to an oceanside gazebo. An elderly woman sat in a wheelchair with a crocheted rug neatly wrapped around her legs.

  Lauren touched Rose’s shoulder. ‘Excuse me, Rose. I have the police officers from the New York Police Department who would like to speak with you.’

  Rose looked up. ‘Welcome. At last, I will have some excitement in my life,’ she said with an infectious smile.

  ‘I’m Lieutenant Wilkins and this is Detective James Christianson.’

  ‘Glad to meet you, I’m Rose, and I’ve been on this earth too long,’ she quipped.

  ‘Let me know if you need anything, Rose,’ Lauren said. ‘I’ll be back in ten minutes.’

  ‘Thank you, Lauren, I will.’

  As Lauren walked away, Rose moved her wheelchair to face Sarah and James. ‘Please take a seat. There’s no point standing around. Tell me, what is so important about my life that you needed a helicopter to come and see me?’

  ‘We’re hoping to ask you a few questions,’ Sarah said.

  ‘My body is tired, and words are difficult to find so I don’t know whether I can be of much help.’

  ‘It’s about the death of your stepson Kevin.’

  Rose sat up and straightened her shoulders. ‘Why do you need to know anything about his death? It happened so long ago.’

  ‘We would like to hear your version of events on the day he died.’

 

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