American Devil th&dl-1

by Oliver Stark

  She had seen that Mo kept his keys round his neck but she would need him to be out cold or disorientated for a moment. She stood up unsteadily, took her armful of shiny red gifts and took them into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. The room had no window so Mo knew it was safe. He retreated to the kitchen. He was going to make pasta for her — something more than tinned mince for his special princess.

  Lucy searched the bathroom. She needed a knife or a club of some sort. She found a pair of nail scissors, but they were tiny. The blades were only an inch and a half. She found Maurice’s razor next. She unscrewed the cap and pulled out a razor blade. Her armory was placed on the white toilet lid. Then she found a can of deodorant. She wasn’t sure if that would do anything or not, but she put it with the scissors and blade. Then she got in the bath.

  Lying in the deep bath, even in these circumstances, was a real pleasure. She felt as if she’d been lying in her own filth for a week, sweating unconscious all night and day. She lay in the bath thinking about what she needed to do. How to incapacitate him, take his keys and flee. She’d have to be braver than she’d ever been before.

  She heard music coming from the kitchen. He would be off guard. Perhaps he would give her a knife to eat with, but it would be a blunt old thing. She picked up the scissors, turning them in her hand. Looking at them, considering what damage they could do.

  When Lucy emerged from the bathroom, Mo let out a squeal of excitement. ‘Wow!’ he exclaimed. She looked fantastic. All in red with her hair done up and lipstick on. Like a real girlfriend.

  ‘Does it all fit?’

  ‘Just perfect, Mo. How do I look?’

  ‘Lovely, lovely, lovely,’ he said. He led her through to the kitchen/living room. There was a small Formica table set for two, two chairs and music playing in the background. Mo pulled her seat back and Lucy sat.

  All through dinner as they talked, Lucy was calculating, trying to identify the right time for her escape. When they’d eaten, Mo stood up and gestured to her with his hands.

  ‘What do you want, Maurice?’

  ‘Will you dance with me?’ he asked.

  Lucy stood up and joined him in the middle of the stark room in the dilapidated building, swaying to the music. It was beyond strange.

  Maurice leaned his head on Lucy’s shoulder and said, ‘You smell pretty.’

  Lucy took his head in her hands. ‘You look real nice too, Maurice. Close your eyes.’ Maurice closed his eyes and turned his face to hers. She stroked his cheek. ‘You’ve been real good to me, Mo. I want to reward you. Would you like that?’

  Mo nodded as her finger moved across his lip. Her right hand moved inside her top and found the nail scissors. She withdrew them. Her plan was to plant them firmly in one eye. The shock might be enough to topple him. She was holding them in her fist when a violent knocking broke into the room. Someone was hammering on the door. Lucy quickly hid the scissors. Mo stopped, paralysed. He knew who it was. It was the police, come to get him and take him away. He quickly took Lucy and pushed her into the bedroom. ‘It’s the police, Lucy. They’ve been following me and now they’ve come to get me.’ He was shaking all over as the knocking continued. ‘I won’t ever answer.’

  ‘You’ve got to answer,’ Lucy pleaded from the bedroom door. ‘I’ll tell them that you were looking after me. They just want to help.’

  Mo looked at Lucy. ‘Would you?’

  She nodded and stepped back into the bedroom. The knocking continued. Mo moved to the door. His hands were shaking as he opened each lock.

  The door opened. Lucy was confused. It wasn’t a cop.

  A tall, wild-eyed figure stood in the doorway covered in dirt and shit. Mo stared at him, his hands shaking.

  ‘What the fuck kept you?’ Sebastian shouted, staring at Mo in disgust.

  ‘Sorry, Nick,’ said Mo and lowered his eyes to the floor.

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  East 126th Street

  November 29, 8.15 p.m.

  Sebastian looked at the girl in the red dress standing in the doorway to the bedroom, staring out with hope in her eyes. ‘I see you took another girl, Mo. What did I tell you? What the hell did I tell you?’

  ‘Don’t take no more girls,’ said Mo.

  ‘That’s right, and what the hell did you do?’

  ‘I couldn’t help it.’

  ‘I should kick your ass for this, Mo. You’re a fucking liability.’

  ‘I kept her all nice,’ said Maurice. ‘Better than Lottie. I gave this one water too. Kept her alive.’

  ‘Good, Mo, real good.’

  Sebastian walked in, walked over to Lucy and hit her hard across the jaw. She fell backwards and Sebastian shut the bedroom door. ‘Speak to me, Maurice. What the fuck is going on?’ Sebastian looked around the dilapidated apartment. ‘What are you doing in here? What’s with the music?’

  ‘Nothing, Nick. Ain’t nothing.’

  Sebastian shoved past Maurice and took a drink of water from the tap. ‘What’s been going on?’

  ‘The police have been following me, Nick. I had to stay away for two days.’

  Sebastian stopped dead. ‘Cops have been here?’

  ‘They were waiting up and down the street, but then today they left and I got in again. Lucy’s medicine had worn off and she was okay. She looks better now, Nick.’

  ‘How did the police find you?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Sebastian sat at the kitchen table. He thought for a moment. ‘Listen, Mo, this is what you need to do. We got to get the girl out of here right now. I want you to go back to Benny and borrow his van again. We’ve got to take her upstate. You remember the farm. We can use the farm, can’t we? Bring the van back here soon as you can. You understand?’

  ‘You not going to hurt her, are you, Nicky?’

  ‘Course I’m not, Mo.’

  Mo nodded gratefully and headed for the door. ‘Soon as I can, Nick, I promise.’ Then he was gone.

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  7-Eleven

  November 29, 8.45 p.m.

  Harper arrived back at Benny Marconi’s store with Denise Levene, having stopped only to take a quick shower at the station. They made quite the investigating couple — a demoted ex-Homicide cop with a suspension hanging over his record and a psychotherapist with a family background in crime and a yearning to be a profiler.

  ‘I’m going in,’ said Harper. ‘I want to see if I can get anything from Mr Marconi. We can hang around East 126th Street all night, but this guy knows something.’

  ‘He didn’t give you much before, did he?’ said Denise.

  ‘I brought a couple of crime scene pictures to see if I can’t jog his memory.’ Harper got out of the car, walked across the street and pulled open the door. Benny Marconi appeared immediately from an aisle, holding a price gun. ‘What a great surprise. I kinda knew you wouldn’t leave this fucking guy alone.’

  ‘Has he been back?’ said Harper.

  ‘I don’t keep a close enough eye on his movements.’

  ‘He hasn’t shown up for work, has he?’

  ‘No. Not with you clowns on his tail.’

  ‘Just let me know — does he ever alter his routine? That’s all I want. You’d notice, right, if he did something different?’

  ‘I ain’t got nothing to say.’

  ‘I know that, but just nod or something. Does he ever change the routine?’

  Benny stood dead still. ‘You going to get that warrant you promised or just waste your time? I’m not in this conversation. You’re ruining my fucking reputation sitting on the door like that.’

  ‘Hey, I’m just hoping you care about people getting killed. They’re getting fucking cut to pieces.’ Harper threw three photographs across the counter. ‘Look at what he’s done!’

  ‘I keep myself to myself.’

  ‘Damn you! Look at these women. Look at the pain they went through. You not interested even if this guy is murdering local girls? What if
he goes for one of your family, someone you know?’

  ‘Hey, this killer takes rich girls, no skin off me. And Redtop, well, he’s no murderer, trust me, he’s gentle as a puppy.’

  ‘Tell me about his movements. Where is he now? I know that you know.’

  ‘Get out of here. I’m not no piece-of-shit informant.’

  ‘He rapes them, you know that?’ Harper watched Benny’s expression change. ‘He tortures them real slowly — you want that on your conscience?’

  ‘Not Redtop. You’re chasing the wrong guy. You need an arrest, he’ll do. Just cos he’s slow. It ain’t justice.’

  ‘Mr Marconi, the killer pushed a knife into a young girl sixty-four times. Small, slow, shallow cuts so she wouldn’t die. Sixty-four times, Mr Marconi. Is that not worth your attention?’ Harper looked, but Benny Marconi wasn’t going to talk. Harper turned to leave. As he stood in the open doorway, he noticed the van was missing from the kerb. A thought ticked like a second hand in his mind.

  ‘Your van got towed?’

  ‘No, it got fixed.’

  ‘Where is it?’

  Benny Marconi turned away from Harper. ‘I don’t know.’

  Harper moved across the store quick and grabbed Benny before he had a chance to pull the Beretta from his waistband. He threw him hard against the wall and jammed his forearm into his neck. ‘I’m gonna kill you, that’s all I’m gonna say,’ whispered Harper.

  ‘Redtop takes it, sometimes,’ gasped Benny. ‘He goes to the Bronx. Yeah, he drives it to get stuff from the food market.’

  ‘How long is he gone?’

  ‘I’m not saying anything. You understand? This is not happening.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘I let him take the van. Kind of a favour. He works for peanuts. Least I can do.’

  Harper froze like someone had hit him. ‘You gave him the van? He’s got it now?’

  ‘Yeah. Took it twenty minutes ago.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Marconi, you’ve been a great help. Shit.’ Harper ran out of the door and straight across the street at speed. He reached Denise Levene’s small car and yanked open the door. ‘Drive. Get going. We need to get to East 126th Street.’

  She looked across at him.

  ‘No questions, just drive! I’ve got to get on to Eddie and the department. We should’ve checked this out. We missed it. We fucking missed the van. He’s going to try to take Lucy somewhere tonight.’

  Chapter Eighty

  East 126th Street

  November 29, 8.50 p.m.

  After Maurice left, Sebastian went through to the bathroom and ran the water in the bath. He started taking off his clothes. Lucy was still out cold from the blow he’d given her. He was furious with Mo.

  ‘You’re going to get yourself fucking caught, Sebastian. The cops are going to find you easy, if Mo keeps taking girls. Why can’t he get himself a fucking dog? What’s wrong with a dog? He should get a dog if he wants something to stroke. For fuck’s sake. Get a dog and leave these girls alone.’

  His hands took the bar of soap and tried to get a lather under the running tap. ‘What a fucking place this is! It’s a shithole. It’s a shithole and it stinks.’

  Mud and shit ran brown and black around the porcelain and into the drain. Sebastian looked at himself in the mirror. He looked pale. He hadn’t eaten much in days.

  He came back into the bedroom, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. He looked again at the girl. She was a problem.

  He wandered over to where she lay on the floor, pulled her up and threw her body on to the bed. Lucy’s eyes were open now. He sat on the edge and stared into her terrified eyes. The small, innocent face of Lucy James looked back at him.

  ‘You’re not a hooker, are you, sweetheart?’ Sebastian said. ‘I made him promise only hookers, cos that way the cops couldn’t care less, but you’re worth more than that, aren’t you?’ Lucy stared in fear. ‘Only hookers. Only hookers. What a fucking mess!’

  Mo reappeared at the door holding a set of keys. ‘I got the van for you, Nick.’

  ‘That’s a good boy, Mo. Well done.’

  The two men looked at each other. Sebastian saw Mo looking down at Lucy. ‘You like this one, don’t you?’

  Mo nodded, his eyes heavy with pain.

  ‘She’s not a hooker, Mo. That’s why the cops are chasing you.’

  Tears welled in Redtop’s eyes, and he started to cry like a baby, big fat tears rolling down his face. ‘Please can I keep her, Nicky? Just for one more night?’ Behind Sebastian, Lucy looked on in horror.

  Sebastian moved across to Mo. ‘Hey, big feller, maybe we’ll get you another soon. This one’s had her stroking. They go bad if you keep them long. She’ll be mean to you just like Lottie, and the cops will be hunting this one. You got to let me take her away, just like I did with Lottie.’ He led Mo to the door. ‘Now quit crying, go and get me an outfit and I’ll take care of this. We’re going to have to move her right now. Get some clothes for me and I’ll tell you what we’re going to do.’

  Mo opened the door and left. As the door shut, Sebastian shivered. Alone with a girl. He walked across to her and pulled up her dress. Lucy didn’t move. She was just like a princess. It was uncanny how they all looked like one of his princesses. Uncanny. He touched the girl’s face, softly. Stroked her long hair.

  ‘You’re pretty,’ he said and her eyes, dark and intense, stared at him. Sebastian found his trousers on the floor and pulled out a plastic bag from his pocket. His appetite seemed to be growing. He moved on top of her.

  Lucy stared up at the man moving above her. He had a handsome face, but his eyes were dead. She was dreaming, perhaps. She tried to move, but like in a dream found she couldn’t move her limbs. He had her pinned down. She was utterly helpless.

  The man calmly lifted her head and pulled the bag down over her face. Breathing became more difficult as the bag kept being drawn into her mouth, but if she breathed slowly she could still get some air.

  She was keen to wake up from her nightmare now. Very keen. This was wrong. This was all wrong. Wake up, she was shouting, wake up. But she didn’t. She didn’t wake up at all. She tried to remember how she woke herself up in her dreams, but none of it worked.

  Through the crumpled bag she watched him looking down at her body, then at her eyes. He was looking deep into her eyes and seemed to be transfixed.

  His hand came forward and closed the bag around her neck. She gulped for air. Her body was young and not ready to die. It didn’t want to. Every fibre kicked out against it. Every atom and every molecule wanted to carry on. To live. She bolted and tugged and kicked, but she was held tight and the man rested his body on top of hers, pushing the last breath from her lungs.

  Chapter Eighty-One

  East 126th Street

  November 29, 9.40 p.m.

  Harper and Denise arrived at East 126th Street and parked up. They saw Marconi’s truck sitting on the side of the street. High up in the building, one of the boarded windows glimmered with light.

  ‘He’s in. We’ll wait for the other guys.’

  On the way over, Harper had called up Eddie. Kasper had, in turn, called in the Feds working the task force. They might need to have people with Federal jurisdiction. They were all heading over. This had to end tonight. There was no time for convincing Lafayette, no time for the deputy DA and no time for any warrant. They had to take Redtop out and try to save Lucy James.

  In the apartment building, Sebastian was dressed in one of Mo’s shirts. He’d rolled the dead girl in a sheet and already put her in the back of Marconi’s truck along with two canisters of gasoline. Mo knew what to do. Mo should’ve left already but he couldn’t stop crying. He’d loved Lucy and now Nick had taken her away. He was crying so much that Sebastian was afraid he’d draw attention to himself. It took him nearly half an hour to calm Mo down. In the end, Sebastian promised him another girl. Promised him a keeper if he did a good job getting rid of Lucy. Mo packed a small bag and left t
he apartment, for the farm he knew from a long time ago.

  Across the street, three unmarked cars sat waiting for Redtop to make a move. Eddie Kasper had turned up with another couple of detectives, Garcia and Mason. Harper got in with Eddie and Denise left for home. The third car contained Special Agents Asa Shelton and Isaac Spencer.

  The pack didn’t have to wait long before Redtop appeared at the fence to the disused schoolhouse. He pushed the fence aside and got into the van.

  Harper looked up at the building. ‘You think someone else is in there?’

  ‘I think the body’s in the van,’ said Eddie. ‘If he’s going out of the city, then he’s already killed her.’

  Harper looked again at the light. Something wasn’t right.

  ‘Let’s go, man,’ Eddie urged. ‘We’ve got to find his dumping ground.’

  Maurice didn’t give Harper any more time to think. He pulled away from the kerb and drove off. After a few seconds, the three cars followed.

  The journey upstate was slow. Maurice was driving carefully. Kasper hadn’t told Lafayette until they were on their way. He would’ve stopped them, no doubt, but now it was too late.

  Lafayette was covering his back lately and always went straight up the chain of command. The top brass wanted to know every development in this case. He had to tell them that Tom Harper was with Kasper in the chase. He had to reinstate Tom Harper in his absence. Then he had to run for cover — if this fucked up, Lafayette was staring down a serious barrel of shit. They’d got the wrong man once; it didn’t bear thinking about what would happen if they got the wrong man twice.

  They followed Maurice upstate, the three cars taking turns to lead and fall back. They were heading north on Interstate 87, travelling up past the Catskill State Park. After forty minutes they turned off and within an hour were driving through the dark in some slow, narrow rural roads.

  The woods and trees of New York state loomed in the shadows and darkness at the side of the road. They might be driving half the night. Eddie focused on the road ahead. On the winding rural roads, keeping a distance was hard and keeping hidden was harder. If Maurice had a body in the car and he got a sense that he was being followed, then he could easily disappear into the hillside, switch off his lights and they’d be none the wiser.