by Oliver Stark
‘I got something to say,’ said Nick. He didn’t know what it was, he just felt there was something. Something he needed to do. ‘I love you all, you know that? But I gotta go somewhere. I gotta do something. I love you.’
The headache came as usual with the suddenness of a shaft of sunlight from behind a cloud. It shot through his mind and his head screamed with pain.
They all looked at him closely.
‘I think Sebastian’s here. You got to go. You all got to get out of here.’
When they stayed frozen, he struggled to stand, but the pain knocked him sideways. He stumbled, pulling the table and dinner plates to the floor.
Dee’s eyes widened. ‘Nick, what’s wrong?’ She rushed over. Nick was prostrate, his hands pressing against his temples. The children came close. Susan was looking terrified, but William hugged his father.
‘Speak, Nick. Is it a stroke? Should I call an ambulance?’
Nick’s eyes closed and his head shifted suddenly. The pain had gone. Clarity again. Beautiful clarity. Bethany Hummel had been put back in the glass cage. He couldn’t hear her screaming any more, or Chloe. There was just beautiful silence.
‘Nick? Nick? Should I call an ambulance? What’s wrong?’
But it was Sebastian’s eyes that turned to hers. ‘Frontal lobe atrophy, Dee. That’s what the neurologists say. Brain is not quite what it should be. It’s kind of broken. Been broken a long time.’
‘Nick.’
‘Thing is,’ his eyes rose to the three of them, ‘Daddy’s going away now.’
‘What?’ asked Dee. ‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s got something to finish. He’s got to go and sort this thing out.’
Sebastian stood and picked up William, who was still hugging his neck.
‘What do you mean, Nick?’
‘Come here, darling,’ he said to Susan. She approached him and he picked her up, too.
‘Nick, I’m not sure what to do…’
He held the two children and smiled at Dee. For an instant he looked like her husband again. ‘The thing is… I’m here to protect you. I want to know you’re all looked after, you know. I said I’d look after you all, didn’t I? Made you all that promise. He’s just got to go away.’
‘Who has?’
‘Got to just disappear for a while,’ said Sebastian. ‘You won’t even miss him.’
Dee took a step towards him. She didn’t like this at all. ‘I think the children should go upstairs. Let them go. Daddy and Mummy need to talk.’
Sebastian smiled and hugged the two children closer. ‘I’m going to give these two a bath, then we can talk. We need to talk, Dee. A long, long talk. I got a lot to say.’
‘They don’t need a bath. It’s morning, Nick. Listen to me, you’re not thinking right.’
‘I need to put my hands in some clean water, Dee.’
‘Leave the children down here.’
‘Do you two want a bath?’
They both nodded furiously. Anything different was fun, right!
‘Maybe you should sit down. I can take them up. Please, Nick. I’ll look after them. You rest.’
‘Hey, you two beauties, should we have a water fight or do you want Mummy to bath you?’
‘Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!’ the children cawed.
‘You have a rest, Dee. We can talk all day. I’m not going in to work.’
She knew from the look in his eyes that there was nothing to be done. She watched them go. Susan and William looked over their father’s shoulder and waved, their faces excited.
She listened to him tramp up the stairs. She heard the water rushing into the bath. She stood there panicking. What should she do? The image of William held down by the neck kept recurring. She needed help, advice, support… something. She dialed 911 as she listened to the sound of the water running.
‘Come on, come on, come on,’ she whispered. Her hand went into the drawer for a knife. Her hand trembled, the blade flickering in the light.
‘911, what’s your emergency?’
‘It’s my husband… He’s acting real strange.’
‘Are you in danger?’
‘I don’t know. We might be.’
‘Has he attacked you or threatened you?’
‘I don’t think so. I don’t know.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Dee Dresden.’
Just then, she heard a splash from the bathroom, followed by laughter. She breathed in. Perhaps she was going mad. Perhaps she was the one with frontal lobe atrophy, whatever that was.
‘I think… maybe… maybe I’m just paranoid.’
‘Has he hurt you before, miss?’
‘No. Yes. He’s frightened us before. He gets these moods.’ She paused. Did she say or didn’t she? What should she do? Suddenly she broke. ‘He held William down. Yes! He nearly broke his arm. He’s seven years old.’
‘Does he have the children with him now, Mrs Dresden?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where are they?’
‘What?’
‘Where are your children?’
‘In the bath…’
‘Can you ascertain that your children are safe?’
‘I don’t know. God! I don’t know. I think he’s the man you’re all looking for. I think he’s the killer. The American Devil. Help us!’
Just then, there was another big splash. This time the splashing continued, but without any laughter. More splashing. Then it stopped and there was silence. No screams or shrieks. Nothing. She held her breath. Her hand gripped the carving knife and she dropped the phone.
She darted up the stairs. The bathroom door was ajar. Still no noise. No noise at all. Her lips were trembling with fear. My children, my little babies. What’s happened to my children?
She pushed open the door and entered the bathroom. She saw him. His sleeves were rolled up and he was leaning over the bath, his hands under the water. The water was quite still. She saw her children’s faces under the surface. They were staring out, motionless, their eyes wide open.
All at once, both children burst from the water and gulped air. ‘How many seconds, Dad?’
‘Nearly forty. A house record!’ Nick turned to Dee. ‘What’s up, Dee? You look scared half to death.’ He smiled at her.
‘Nothing,’ she said, hiding the knife behind her back. ‘Just wonder if you want me to take over, is all.’
Chapter One Hundred and Nine
Blue Team
December 4, 8.30 a.m.
It took four hours for Harper to piece the story together. He had been searching for names in directories and databases throughout the night. It was unlikely that Sebastian still called himself Hummel. At some point, the brothers must have decided to change their names again. Mo had changed his to Macy. But what had Sebastian changed his to? Harper’s list held over four hundred names already. He was looking for all the Fosters, Hummels, Dresdens, Dobermans, Quillers, Ashes and Macys across New York. All he had to do now was to go through the list one by one and check it out. It would take time. Maybe too much time. There had to be a quicker way. He drummed his thumb on the keyboard. Time was running out.
Harper now understood why the killer was after him, though. He had killed Sebastian’s brother.
Now, Harper could see how it had happened those first times. The murders of the Hummel girl and Chloe Mestella were even more horrific than the cops realized; too horrific for anyone to suspect. They were killed by a child. By Sebastian Hummel, a thirteen-year-old boy.
Harper looked again at the cold case details. The brothers were younger than anyone had thought. That’s why Eddie hadn’t found anyone in the yearbooks. Eddie’s maths had been two years out — the killer had been younger than Chloe Mestella, not older. They’d made a poor assumption and it cost them.
He had found the key to Sebastian — his raped and murdered sister. Tom knew what he had to do. He needed to find out what happened to the Hummels. He had called Eddie and asked him
to sit on the door of the social security office in Pendleton County. He needed to know who fostered Sebastian after the Hummel family fell to pieces. He picked up his cell and was about to put in another call to Eddie, but Lafayette rang first.
‘What’s up?’ said Harper. ‘I hope it’s good news.’
‘Sure is, Harper. The woman from your basement? It’s not Denise. She could still be alive, Tom.’
Silence.
‘Tom, you there? It’s not her, man, you hear me?’
‘Yeah,’ Tom said weakly. ‘I hear you. Thank you.’
He put the phone down and sat still for about ten seconds, trying to stop the tide of relief from overwhelming him. Sebastian was true to his word. He wanted Tom to feel pain. More pain than he could imagine. He had to find Sebastian. He had to get Denise back. He called Eddie.
‘What’s up?’
‘It’s not Denise,’ said Harper. ‘It’s someone else he used to try to make us think she was dead.’
‘Sick fuck,’ said Eddie. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘It’s good it’s not her, Eddie, but we’ve got to nail this and find her. Are you in yet?’
The line started to crackle. Harper didn’t know it, but Eddie was following a young woman through a low door. ‘What you say, Harper?’
‘I want a name. Where are you?’
‘We’re in the stacks now. The lovely Julia is giving me a guided tour of their records. Nearly there, Harps.’
‘Call me,’ said Harper. ‘The moment you get a name.’
‘Sure thing. Julia and I are on it.’
Harper couldn’t count on Eddie’s news being good, so continued with his own checking. Twenty minutes in, when he was only a fraction of the way down the list, it occurred to him that he hadn’t even run these names through Blue Team’s database. Something might click. He took his list over to Garcia. ‘Stop the phoning for a moment. I want these entered on the database, see if anything comes up.’
‘Sure thing,’ said Garcia.
Twenty minutes later, he called over to Harper. ‘Listen up, we got a hit.’
Harper rushed across. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing definite, but one of the names cross-referenced with a call we got from a lady in Queens.’
‘Which name?’
‘Dresden. Woman called in a potential domestic situation and blurted out that she thought her husband was the American Devil.’
‘When?’
‘Call came in under an hour ago. Patrol have been and gone. She was fine. She panicked. Look, Harper, don’t get your hopes up. We get fifty of these a day.’
‘Sure we do,’ said Harper, ‘but I got seven names that Mo Macy used when he was being fostered around and I’m thinking Sebastian lived there with him. This woman has one of those names. What’s the address?’
‘Just off the Triborough road, I think. Hang on while I check.’ A couple of minutes later he looked up from the database. ‘Got it. And guess what? Your botanical guys came up with five locations for winter-flowering cherry and this address is a couple of minutes from one of them.’
‘That’s good,’ said Harper. He looked at the address. Was this really him? He couldn’t believe that he’d just kept his name. He’d probably just been happy that he wasn’t a Hummel any more. He called Eddie.
‘What is it, Harps? We’re in the files,’ said Eddie.
‘Look up Dresden.’
Eddie was silent for a moment. Harper heard files moving and papers rustling. Then a woman’s voice in the background called out. ‘John and Jamie Dresden took two boys in August 1982. Sebastian and Maurice.’
‘You hear that, Harper? What you got?’
‘I heard it,’ said Harper. ‘I think we got him.’ He paused. ‘Remember this, Eddie. I want you to remember what it feels like just before we take down this bastard.’
They had Hostage Rescue Team running the show, led by Special Agent Baines and his fierce-looking colleagues in black uniform with a vast array of weaponry. He took control of the operation, keeping the vehicles quiet at both ends of Nick Dresden’s street. Then the teams moved slowly down the suburban road. Four armed men walking in the centre of the road from each direction, flanked by supporting officers running into each house as they passed, keeping the neighbours safe and quiet.
The rest of the team watched from the end of the street. Nick’s house was an ordinary working home. A couple of kids’ bicycles had been abandoned on the lawn. Nothing but plain everyday signs of normality.
The Hostage Rescue Team fell into position at the front and back of the house and suddenly rushed the doors. The front door splintered in two.
From afar, the detectives of Blue Team could hear almost nothing. The whole operation was over in under two minutes. Then the team appeared on the lawn and radioed to Baines.
‘House secured. Suspect is not present. I repeat. The suspect is not present. Wife and kids are unharmed but he’s gone.’
Chapter One Hundred and Ten
The Lair
December 4, 9.45 a.m.
Time drifted in different ways in the dark. It wasn’t linear, it moved in waves and pulses. She was sure it hadn’t been long. Certainly not a whole night and day, but the outer door was opening. It wasn’t easy. It was stuck, but the killer barged through. Denise was still lying on her side. She sat up. This was the end.
Sebastian was lugging a huge pair of bolt cutters under his arm. He got to the barred door and placed them on the ground. ‘How you feeling, Doctor?’
She looked at him and stared. There was nothing for her to say, nothing to do. The killer was going to cut through the door. He was going to be able to put his hands on her. She’d been trying to avoid the thoughts about her future that were chasing her breath away.
Be strong, she kept on saying inside her head. Be strong.
‘A little preoccupied, Denise?’ said Sebastian. He picked up the bolt cutters and started to unwind the wire safety grips. ‘It’s a beautiful day outside, you know. It’s one of those days when you really want to take a long walk across a field or by the ocean. Not so cold. You like to walk?’
Denise stared ahead. Be strong. She turned away from him. She imagined her father. She closed her eyes. ‘What do I do?’ she whispered. ‘Come on, old man, you always said you’d be there for me. What do I do?’
There was no answer. Her mind was frozen with fear. The sound of Sebastian working away behind her. She saw her father sitting as he always had, his two hands clasped on the prison table, leaning back in his chair, his face pale and still. Light a fantastic sparkler. That was what he said. Light a fantastic sparkler. She heard it again and again. She didn’t know what it meant.
Her eyes darted about the room. Back to Sebastian.
‘You’re going to taste sweet,’ he said. ‘I’ve been thinking about nothing else. Just you and me. I’ve not slept all night. Nick’s gone now, you know that? I think he’s gone for good.’
Denise stared past him. She wasn’t listening. She was concentrating hard. A fantastic sparkler was what she needed. She looked up at the single light bulb. There was nothing she could do.
Sebastian finally released the cutters, opened the small thick jaws and snapped shut its compound hinges.
‘We’re ready to roll, Denise. I want to get you ready. I want to get Harper here. I bet you want that too.’
He saw Denise pull the stool to the centre of the room. She stepped on to it. ‘What you planning to do, Denise? Jump on me?’
Suddenly, the light went out and the room was pitch dark.
‘So that’s your plan,’ came Sebastian’s disembodied voice. ‘You think you can stop me by turning out the light. I lived half my life in the dark, Denise. I’m not afraid. The dark is where I’m happiest.’
She heard the bolt cutter chink against the first bar. Sebastian took a moment to check the jaw with his fingers. ‘First one, Denise, first cut.’
He squeezed the long metal handles of the bolt cutters and
felt the jaws push through the steel. The resistance increased and Sebastian used all his strength to push until the jaws bit right through. He repeated the operation at the top of the bar and the steel jangled to the floor.
‘First one down, Denise. I reckon I could slip through with just two missing, what do you think?’
The metallic chink started up again. Sebastian’s breathing emanated from the dark, like the sound of a beast. A low thumping in her ears was the sound of her own pulse. She was focused but terrified. She just kept on hearing her daddy’s voice. ‘Light a fantastic sparkler, like I always used to do. Then you can see for miles and miles and miles.’
Chapter One Hundred and Eleven
Dresden Home
December 4, 10.20 a.m.
At Nick Dresden’s suburban home, Dee was taken into one of the small back bedrooms and interviewed. There was no time for taking people down to the precinct; they needed information now. The two children were taken by social services and the house was pulled to pieces by a team of forty officers from the CSU, Blue Team and the Bureau.
The Feds had their control truck out on the lawn and had everything on Nick Dresden in an instant. He was a nobody from nowhere. His record was clean.
Harper worked on the lair. He knew a thing or two about a man’s lair. It had to be close enough to dispose of the trophies and return to the wife. He looked at the blue Merc in the driveway. ‘A blue car,’ said Harper. Denise’s profile had brought them to this address. It was her profile that Dee had read and recognized. Denise’s profile had worked.
‘If he’s been anywhere recently, then this car is going to tell the story,’ said Harper. He called in the CSU. ‘Give us anything you can on the car.’ There would be forensic evidence, but Harper knew it would take time. Too much time.
The Crime Scene detective looked at the car. ‘We’ll need to do a chemical spectroscopy analysis on the material. We need the lab.’
‘Fuck the lab,’ said Harper. ‘What can you tell me in the next ten minutes?’
‘Okay, but it won’t be much.’
