Shadows May Fall

by Corcoran, Mell

  “That’s not very short!” Lou scoffed, making Sara and Caroline chuckle.

  Dillon returned from the front of the house. “Apparently it was a secondary locking mechanism.” He lifted an evidence bag that appeared to hold an old iron key, like the one you would use to turn on a fireplace and adjust the gas. “The lock is on the inside, behind a bogus light switch.”

  “That’s an odd security feature.” Lou noted.

  “Not if you’re the Marquis de Sade.” A robust looking tech stood outside the back doorway. “We got the room over the carport open. You gotta see this for yourselves.”

  There was no way they were going to wait to see what the tech was talking about until they were done with the primary crime scene. His statement was far too provocative to set aside.

  “We can go through the breezeway from the master bedroom.” Sara suggested the alternate route rather than them trying to tip-toe through the blood and brain matter.

  By the time they made their way, the young tech was waiting with another deputy outside the door. “It was a tricky two key system. Very Leonardo da Vinci.” The man was undoubtedly pleased with himself as he showed them the mechanism. “If you don’t tumble both locks simultaneously, that bolt up there drops and you’ll have to plasma cut that sucker to get it open.”

  “Or hack the wooden door down.” The uniformed deputy suggested.

  “No!” The tech pointed to a plate in the center edge of the door. “Steel reinforced. You’d need the plasma cutter for that too!” He was all too pleased with himself.

  “Okay, so what’s he got in this vault...” Lou stepped in first.

  “I wish I didn’t know.” The uniform grumbled. “We’ve been instructed not to go in or touch anything for forensic reasons.”

  “Right!” The young tech perked up again. “With that much rubber, latex and leather, we are going to have a cornucopia of DNA to work from!”

  “Thank you, Tim.” Sara stopped the man there. “I’ll yell when we’re done.” The dejected tech stepped aside, and the rest of them followed Lou in.

  “Can you say fifty shades of eww?” Lou walked into the center of what appeared to be Mr. Rawlings’ naughty play room, or dungeon, whichever one preferred.

  “I do not need to be here for this. I’ll be working on the body.” Caroline spun right back around and left the way she came in.

  “I will never get this stuff.” Dillon shook his head as he looked around the room.

  Josh Rawlings had spent a small fortune on his super secret play room. The coffered ceiling was inset with mirror, and the beam work was in keeping with the dark Spanish wood of the house’s architecture. That was where the appropriate decor ended. The walls were padded and covered in what appeared to be thick, shiny black rubber with a rail, not unlike a ballet bar that ran along three of the four walls. The far left corner housed a plush Victorian fainting couch done up in black lacquer and red velvet while the other corner housed some swing or sling apparatus that Lou did not even want to know about. There was a four poster bed standing in the center of the room, neatly made with hooks and eyes fixed all over the place as well as a handy dandy winch system. The entry wall was flanked with racks and racks of whips, chains, collars, cuffs, straps, slings and all sorts of paraphernalia that any self-respecting sadist would need. Lou didn’t even want to think about what was in the drawers and steamer trunk that was in another corner. It was no wonder Rawlings forbade his cleaning lady from the room; she would have run away screaming.

  “So all three of our victims were seriously off.” Dillon concluded.

  “I’m beginning to get an idea of who we are looking for, and why.” Lou was convinced more than ever that they were looking for a woman, who had a major issue with these men. Los Angeles was known as a liberal city, so their killer had plenty to choose from. If choosing her victims was indeed random.

  “If your girl played in here, this is our best bet for getting DNA so let’s back out and we’ll start from the door jamb and work inward.” Sara swallowed hard, not looking forward to the mountain of work they had cut out for them.

  “Good luck.” Lou snorted. “You’re gonna need it!” Lou and Dillon headed back to the primary crime scene where Caroline and two of her team were carefully collecting the scattered tissue. She had left the bulk of Mr. Rawlings on the couch, presumably to go over the details with them before she had him bagged up.

  “Weapon here.” Caroline pointed to the side of the sofa. “Looks like the mortar and pestle system again.” She stood up and demonstrated. “Bare in mind I think our girl is about five feet, six inches maybe a smidge less but no more. She is either really fit or very patient and spent a lot of time here, which doesn’t seem likely by the vic’s body temp, and lividity is fixed so, I’m gonna give you a ballpark estimate that time of death is between one-thirty and two this morning.”

  “That fits with the cleaning lady walking in right about eight.” Dillon said as he made notes.

  “Rigor isn’t totally set so no earlier than that.” Caroline sighed. “This is some serious rage.”

  “And some serious crazy.” Lou added as she wandered into the kitchen and noted the bar was polished clean. “This is definitely our girl. Empty wine bottle, a nice Malbec too. I doubt she brought it though, too easy to trace. She cleaned up again.”

  “I got a laptop!” Dillon shouted from somewhere. “Hardcore lock on this sucker.”

  Lou followed the sound of his voice and found him in a lovely office set up. It looked like something Angela Landsbury would have used on the set of Murder She Wrote as opposed to an office belonging to a torturous freak.

  “Hang on.” She told him as she dug something out of her pocket. “Pop this in and call Finn.”

  Dillon took the innocuous looking thumb drive from Lou and did as instructed. Niko had given Lou a dozen or so of the devices and told her to use them when she needed to use Aegis as a tech consultant. It would allow them to connect remotely to whatever system they needed access to without having to physically be there. Having Dillon on the inside of things made life a lot simpler. Vinny would have raised an eyebrow and insisted on going through proper channels first. This was far more expedient, efficient, and involved a lot less guilt since Lou didn’t have to lie to Vinny about it.

  The bookshelves were filled with lots of French literature and poetry, all the requisite classics from Brontë, Austen, Dickens, Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky and the full works of Tolkien for a little diversity. Quite impressive to someone who had no clue about the man’s proclivities. The facade painted was one of a sophisticated, sensitive gentleman while the real interior was anything but. That had to be the key to their victims. All three were the epitome of scumbags, and those types tended to run in the same circles no matter how large the city was. Lou needed to dig and dig deep into these mens lives, and it all had to have started after Medina moved to Los Angeles. That gave them a point of reference, but she was going to have to get the BHPD’s investigating officers on board with her looking into their case. Lou remembered Dillon mentioning she surely had messages since the file was emailed that morning. She checked her voicemail while she looked through Rawlings’ office drawers. There were several messages from a few different Beverly Hills Police Department personnel, two detectives, one captain and a commander. Lou called the commander back immediately.

  After introducing herself, apologizing for not returning his call sooner and trying to navigate blindly her way as Principate, Commander Sharp was an exceedingly kind and accommodating man. He assured her that he would pave the way for her to intervene, and that she could count on him for anything she needed. He gave her his home telephone number, his personal mobile number and invited her to lunch. Lou was starting to think she could get used to this whole Principate thing. After making tentative plans for lunch in a week or so, Sharp informed her that the investigating detectives would be in touch with her shortly. It was the e
asiest call Lou could remember making, and she hung up just as Caroline stepped in.

  “My guys are helping with the forensic collection, but I’m heading back to the shop with the body.” Caroline paused and took note of the office decor. “This guy live here alone?”

  “Go figure, right?” Dillon said with a shake of his head.

  “Give me a call if you find anything probative.” Lou requested. “You get the tox report back on Griffen?”

  “I expect the results are on my desk right now.” Caroline said as she peeled off her gloves. “I’ll check before I shower and I’ll text you.”

  “Thanks, girlie.” Lou waved as Caroline headed out the front door. “So Commander Sharp over at BHPD is a real team player.” Lou began relaying her telephone conversation to her partner.

  Dillon looked up from the laptop and raised an eyebrow. “No problems?”

  “None.” She confirmed. “He said he’d have the investigating...” Her phone rang as she spoke. “If only everything in life was this easy.” She rolled her eyes and answered the call.

  Detective Hass of the Beverly Hills Police Department was just as kind and helpful as his Commander and simply over the moon to be of service to his new Principate. Lou couldn’t believe she was this lucky having a Sanguinostri detective on the case. After a brief conversation, he and his partner had no reservations helping Lou in any way they could. They arranged to meet Lou and Dillon for a late lunch then take them to the crime scene for a walk-through. She was psyched that they were going to catch their killer soon with all this cooperation. They had plenty of time to finish up there, head to Homicide to file their paperwork, then meet their new friends. Lou filled Dillon in on the plan and they got down to business without delay.

  Peter Radisson was an elegantly rugged man with close-cropped hair and a surprisingly deep tan for a guy who spent his time hopping from province to province in Canada. He had arrived at the seaside estate precisely at eight with two assistants carrying trunks of documents, per Max’s direct request. The two men started the meeting with coffee in a secured room where Max could fill him in on the recent events that lead to the discovery of a blood smuggling operation within their midst. Peter was appalled and livid at the revelation and pledged his unyielding devotion to the hunt for any and all perpetrators. It was just as Max had suspected the meeting would go.

  By noon, the two had whittled down a list of six Canadian subjects that might have some involvement in the nefarious pipeline. The trick was showing up and finding out for sure without tipping them off or giving any indication that Max and Peter knew what was going on. There were kinks to work out and plans to be hashed out, but they had a pretty good grip on what direction they were headed when Malcolm buzzed in and announced lunch was ready. This wasn’t two colleagues meeting over lunch, this was more like the corporate CEO checking in on the franchise manager, and that was not lost on Peter Radisson.

  “This is such an unexpected honor, my Dom.” Peter took a seat at the table Malcolm had set for them in the solarium.

  “Let’s dispense with the formalities, Peter.” Max smiled and poured the wine. “Let’s just be two old friends having lunch, shall we?”

  “You honor me even more to count me as a friend, if but for lunch.” Peter chuckled.

  Max paused and looked at the man very carefully before he spoke. “Peter, make no mistake, you wouldn’t be here if I didn’t count you as a friend.”

  Radisson bowed his head and placed his fist on his chest in salute. “You more than honor me, my old friend.”

  “Oh hell, Peter!” Max lifted his glass. “I would have frozen to death when I crossed over if not for you!” The two men laughed and drank to that.

  When Max was given the ascension to Dominor for North America, he had come across to one of the most blistering cold winters in history. Totally unprepared for the journey ahead of him, Peter had been more than eager to outfit Max with all the fur he would need to survive the winter. He escorted Max down the Hudson River and saw to it that he got settled in without a need or want for anything. At first Peter thought his new Dominor had forgotten all of that when Max ordered him to New Celadonia, now British Columbia. Regardless, Peter followed orders and made his way, knowing his time in the east had been stretched a bit longer than it should have. It was shortly after his beloved fur trade had been ‘reorganized’ by the British that Max sent word that Peter would be his Principate for all the northern territories. Peter never forgot the feeling of elation and honor nor the twinge of shame at not having faith in his Dominor’s wisdom. He would never feel that shame again.

  As the men enjoyed their meal, they talked of days long passed and laughed deep uproarious laughter. It was a rare and joyful moment.

  “So the talk around the campfire is that your new Principate is a true novitiate.” Peter said then drank the last of his wine. “Should I be worried about my job security?”

  Max smirked. “I had to make some painful choices, my friend. Let’s have our coffee on the deck, and I brought a present for you, from Niko.”

  “Ah! I miss my drinking buddy!” Peter grinned, and they headed outside.

  The rain stopped during the night, and though it was still quite cloudy, the temperature was unusually warm for April in Juneau. They sat in oversized chairs looking out over the cove while the fire pit staved off any chill. Malcolm sat the coffee service on the table between the men and placed the wrapped box for Peter, at Max’s request.

  “Ah!” Peter eyed the box “Don’t tell me?”

  “I had nothing to do with it.” Max assured him. “I am just the messenger.”

  Peter ripped through the plain paper wrapping to reveal the beautiful black lacquered box with it’s white checks and gold embossed lettering. “Ah! I could kiss that man!” He quickly opened the box of Cohiba Behika cigars and breathed in their aroma. “Please tell me you’ll enjoy one with me?”

  “Are you sure you want to waste one on me?” Max jested.

  “I insist!” Peter was a huge cigar aficionado and had been the one to get Niko hooked on nicotine in the first place. “How I miss those days with Niko, Hemingway and warm Havana nights!”

  “The stuff of ballads and poetry.” Max remembered them well and felt a deeper peace as he and Peter indulged in the Cuban contraband.

  “Now you were saying about your new Principate? I look forward to meeting her this weekend!” Peter sat back in his chair and put his feet up on the hearth of the fire pit.

  “You will like her.” Max blew out a thick stream of smoke. “She reminds me of us back in the day. Raw and uncensored.”

  “Before we learned patience and diplomacy!” Peter said with a laugh. “It was a brilliant stroke, cleaning house swiftly and bringing in new blood. No pun intended.” They laughed.

  “I am glad you approve. I fear there will be much more cleaning to come.” Max wanted to pick Peter’s brain about possible suspects but out in the open, he didn’t risk it. Instead they spoke of the Senatus, reminisced further on the old days and spent the afternoon enjoying Niko’s gift. It was a productive and long overdue visit, one Max was honestly sad to see come to an end. When Peter left long after the sun had set and a few glasses of cognac were consumed, his spirit was renewed and his focus much clearer. He made arrangements for the seaplane to pick him up Thursday morning but decided he was going to take tomorrow to enjoy a hike, meander around town, take in the majestic scenery and just breathe for a while on his own. He scanned the messages on his phone and only read the most recent from Niko.

  “All is well. Stay as long as you need.”

  Max turned the power off completely, changed for bed, wrapping himself in a fleece robe then heading back out onto the deck. It was freezing but another log on the fire, another cognac would do the trick. The clouds had parted, and the moon shone down on him with a crooked grin. Who was he kidding? Two more days of solitude would drive him insane.
There was no way in hell he could resign or retire. He loved his life, his people, his world and as much as this little escape was needed, it wasn’t the way he intended to live the rest of his days. He had far too much to do and someone he intended to love, whether she liked it or not.

  Every time Lou drove in Dillon’s SUV, she became more convinced she would never drive her car again. It was less than twenty miles from Homicide Bureau to the meeting spot with the Beverly Hills Detectives but traveling through Midtown at that time a day was always a nightmare. However, Dillon’s magic bus, as Lou had taken to calling it, gave him turn by turn directions for an alternate route that had them parked in under forty-five minutes. Detective Chris Hass and his partner, Arnie Levine sat in front of the eatery on the sidewalk patio. Hass was a solid build man standing about six feet, two inches with immaculate grooming skills. His slicked back blond hair and freshly exfoliated complexion instantly made Lou feel self-conscious. She needed to remember to exfoliate more. No man should have better skin than she did. He wore a slim suit in a slate gray that was surprisingly wrinkle-free and nicely manicured hands that she couldn’t help but notice when he placed it over his heart and bowed his head. Lou had seen people make a similar gesture to Max before, and it was a little unsettling.

  Hass’ partner, Arnie Levine, who greeted Lou in the same manner, was a sharp contrast to the golden boy with his shaved head and dark ebony skin that was a little worse for wear. Lou had looked both of the men up and was surprised that Arnold Levine was Haitian. His father was a Jewish Missionary, who met and married his mother in Haiti, where Arnie was born ten months later. Arnie’s father brought him and his mother back to California as soon as Arnie was old enough to travel and it had been happily ever after for his family since. A far cry from the poverty and corruption that his mother had grown up in.

  “Principate, it’s an honor.” Hass gave a genuine smile. “Your reputation in law enforcement circles precedes you.”