Hunt for a Phantom

by Stephen L Brooks

  They walked up the steps to the bedrooms. The gaze he directed at his wife as they ascended was full of love and longing. Her hair was short and curly, and her complexion had an outdoorsy ruddiness. Her figure was a bit fuller than when they had married, but giving birth to two children, only a year or so apart, had added a few pounds that had stubbornly decided to stay. But he was okay with that. He loved her both outside and in.

  They reached their bedroom and he sent Kate in. “I want to check on the kids first.”

  “Okay.” She partly closed the door and turned on the light on her night stand.

  He saw from the shadow cast on the wall that she was starting to undress for bed. He felt his body’s response to the image. He’d do something about that in a few moments. He looked first on Tommy. His son was nearly twelve, and was small for his age. He had bundled himself in under his covers, and was settled for the night. He had always been that way; once his head hit the pillow, he was gone. Satisfied, he went to the next room.

  Lucy had also inherited her mother’s ability to drop instantly into a sound sleep. Her covers were a bit awry, however, and he came in to straighten them. She changed position slightly under the covers, and murmured appreciatively without rising one iota from the depths of slumber. Ed knelt beside her bed.

  She had just turned thirteen a few weeks ago. Soon she would be bringing the boys around. He thought of the line from that song in Carousel: “You can have fun with a son but you have to be a father to a girl.” He hoped that, when Lucy began dating, he’d be able to stay on the proper side of that fine line between father and cop. A part of him wanted to be ready to fully investigate every guy that asked her out for a burger or a movie. He hoped he wasn’t going to become that kind of dad. And he hoped that he wasn’t going to have to be.

  But after what had happened to Grace Fleming, he might have no choice.

  He mouthed a kiss to her and quietly stood up. After one last long look at her he left her room and went to the main bedroom.

  She turned when he entered the room.

  Kate hadn’t yet put on one of the long T shirts she used for bed. She stood wearing nothing but her panties. She smiled to him, and started to reach for her shirt.

  “Don’t,” he said. He kicked off his loafers and started to unbutton his shirt.

  She came closer and gazed up at him, brushing his hands aside. “Let me do that.” She undid the buttons, one by one, as she had many times before; and this time, to him, was just as compellingly erotic to him as all the others. As he pulled off the shirt she unbuckled his belt, her touch again awakening responses in him. She slipped the belt from his waist and cast it aside, and it was to him like the unchaining of a prisoner. She slid his zipper down...

  And we shall leave Ed Taylor and his wife Kate, except to say that they did not immediately go to sleep.

  And one of the things that kept Ed awake for a while longer than he liked was the question of whether his desire for his wife tonight had anything to do with the flirtations of a certain female detective.

  * * *

  Banning slept in, having left Betsy a message on the office voice-mail to expect him when she saw him. Though he was bone tired, sleep was a long time coming. And it wasn’t the caffeine jolt so late at night. In fact, he owed Peggy for that, because he knew it was the only thing that had kept him awake enough to drive Ed home and get safely back to his apartment in Parkville himself.

  But the shock of what they had found in the hotel room was like another high test caffeine shot, mainlined to his brain. His mind was working on all cylinders, and he couldn’t shut it down. Just what had happened in that room? The license number Peggy got suggests the man who lured her was there. If so, where did he go? Was he wounded? No, there would have been a blood trail; even if it was a small one.

  He knew, or at least hoped, that any other information the city detectives found was going to be shared with Ed, as a professional courtesy. His relationship with Ed was somewhat better than that of the PI and his official counterpart in the movies and TV shows. Ed had become a cop to see that justice was served to crime victims, and he understood that was why Banning was a PI. As happened tonight, sometimes there are things a PI can do that a county cop can’t.

  And Ed, being a family man, had his own interest in the case. In Grace, Ed certainly saw his daughter Lucy a few years from now. In capturing the man who had given motion to the events that caused Grace’s death, he’d get one more predator off the streets.

  Somehow, his brain finally started to tire itself out and the uneasy tautness of his limbs gradually relaxed. He didn’t know when, but Banning finally fell asleep.

  * * *

  Betsy unlocked the street door of the former house that was Banning’s office and went to her desk. There was no light on in the inner office, which meant Banning had not come in yet. She locked away her purse and pressed the button to play the phone messages. The first was Banning, saying he wouldn’t be in until late. He had called her the previous evening from the hotel and told her about the murders, so she had known already it would be a late night. The second message was from a drowsy Ed Taylor, who had apparently been awakened from his own needed sleep by someone at the city police. They intended to call the Flemings just after noon to identify the bodies.

  There were other messages and Betsy made notes of each on memo forms she had long ago scanned and turned into fillable e-forms. She then attached all of them to an email which she sent to Banning. Chances were he would check his emails before coming in. She gave the message from Ed top priority.

  Banning, if he saw the message in time, might want to give the Flemings a heads-up and meet them.

  She had been working long enough for her boss to read his mind.

  Almost like a married couple.

  * * *

  Joe and Jenny Mitchell had pretty much taken over things at the Fleming house. Marge was grateful for the help. She had tried making breakfast and they were all lucky that Joe had found and used the fire extinguisher in time. Jenny cleaned up the mess and started from scratch. The French toast and scrapple smelled great, and Marge and Rick did their best with it. The Mitchells only did marginally better themselves.

  Joe had called in to school first thing to again excuse Rick and Mitch. The school secretary had given the formula grief speech, which Joe accepted on behalf of the family. He admonished the boys that they still had to study, at least a couple of hours, so after breakfast each took a textbook out on the deck and at least made a show of reading ahead to the next chapters. Joe heard their voices once in a while, and knew that not all of the conversation was about their lessons. But that was all right; they certainly needed to talk out their grief at least as much as they needed to study.

  The morning hours dragged. They tried to get interested in TV. None of them could share in the lucky housewives and students who won boats and dining room suites and new cars on The Price is Right. Joe tried TCM and brought up an old movie. But it was a Bette Davis tearjerker, and no one was in the mood for that either.

  Just before noon the phone rang and Joe answered it. “Fleming residence. Joe Mitchell here.”

  “Mr. Mitchell this is Mark Banning. I’m the PI that Al Fleming hired.”

  “Oh, yes Mr. Banning. What can I do for you?”

  “I received word that Mrs. Fleming can expect a call from the city police in a little while, asking her to come downtown this afternoon to identify the bodies. I wanted to give you a call first.”

  “I appreciate that, Mr. Banning.”

  “I never met Mrs. Fleming, only her husband. But I thought she might like me and maybe my assistant Betsy to come along, to provide some moral support. I’m sure she also has some questions, which the police may not be ready to answer.”

  “Thank you. Should we meet you there, or somewhere else?”

  “We can meet at police headquarters. I’ll be waiting at the entrance.”

  “There will be five of us,” Joe said. �
�My wife and son have been staying with Marge and Rick.”

  “I think I’ll know how to recognize you. Could you give me a call before you leave the house?” He gave his cell.

  Joe jotted it down and repeated it back to him for confirmation. “I’ll do that, Mr. Banning. And thank you again.”

  “I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

  It wasn’t long after Joe hung up that the phone rang again. It was the call that Banning had predicted.

  * * *

  Banning had gone to his office immediately after talking to Joe Mitchell. He asked Betsy if she wanted to come, and was not in the least surprised when she agreed. The call from Joe saying that they were about to leave came a few minutes later, and now they stood in front of BCPD HQ waiting.

  “Do you think the police came up with any more leads?” Betsy asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m counting on them sharing with Ed, but not enough to bet the house on it.”

  “You live in an apartment.”

  “Semantics.”

  “The city police are good. They’ll probably find this guy.”

  “With virtually no fingerprints, little viable DNA, a probably phony name on the register... need I go on?”

  “Then you don’t hold out much hope?”

  “The only thing we have is the license number of a car that may belong to the guy. But even that we don’t know for sure.”

  “That’s one of the clues you got last night?”

  Banning nodded. “Peggy, Ed’s partner, got that.”

  “Did she give it to the city cops?”

  “Not before we left last night. Whether she’s given it to them since, I don’t know.”

  A group of five people was waiting at the corner to cross. The light was against them but the traffic seemed clear until one of them, a teenage boy, started across. The man in the group caught his shoulder and held him back as a car came from nowhere, at a speed suited more for I-95, changing lanes as though aiming for the boy. It was a close call. When the walk light came on they started across. One and two at a time they noticed Banning and Betsy and came toward them.

  Joe gestured an inquisitive forefinger at Banning, who nodded.

  “Mr. Mitchell?” Banning asked, extending his hand.

  “Just call me Joe,” Mitchell said, shaking with him. He introduced the others and there were greetings and handshakes around.

  Banning placed a comforting hand on Marge’s arm. “I think they’re waiting for you in there, if you’re ready.”

  He could see the tears almost retreat as she fought them back. “Mr. Banning, I will never be ready for this. But it’s something I must do.” She sighed. “And now is when I have to do it.”

  Banning nodded and led them inside.

  Betsy and Jenny went in with her and Rick while Joe, his son, and Banning waited in the corridor outside of the viewing room.

  “Heluva thing, she’s holding up better than I thought,” Joe said.

  “I’ve been through it before with other clients. It’s never pleasant.”

  “I haven’t told Marge,” Joe said, “but I may know why Grace was meeting this man.”

  Mitch looked at his father. Banning could tell there was something going on between them. “Joe, if this is something private you don’t have to tell me now. In fact, you don’t have to tell me at all.”

  Joe was meeting his son’s gaze. “How about it, Mitch? It’s your secret, really. I’d rather that, if it’s going to come out, it should come from you.”

  Mitch studied his father’s steady gaze, and then searched Banning’s face. He found trust there, and began: “I didn’t say anything to Rick and definitely not to Mr. Fleming. I don’t want them to think anything bad about Grace; especially not now.”

  “And you don’t have to tell me,” Banning said. “At least, not until you want to.” He peered at Mitch intently. “But you’ll probably need to tell the police sooner or later; and sooner is usually better.”

  “But maybe I should tell you now,” Mitch said.

  Before he could go any further the women came from the viewing room. Marge was in near collapse, Jenny and Betsy doing their best to support her physically and emotionally. Banning could see tears even in Betsy’s eyes. He turned back to Mitch.

  “What you wanted to say can wait.”

  They rose and joined the women.

  The Flemings and Mitchells were on their way back to their car when Banning’s cell rang. It was Ed Taylor.

  “Mark, I know you’re going to like this.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Peggy never passed on that license number to the city cops. In the meantime, we’ve run it down on our computers and we’re on our way to the address. Wanna come with?”

  “You bet I do.” They chose a rendezvous where he could be picked up and Banning hung up.

  He told Betsy where they were going. “They’ll give the info to the city cops later, but for right now: we’re gonna be one step ahead of them.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Banning drove onto 95 and switched to 695, the Baltimore Beltway, and headed out to Reisterstown. There was a Giant grocery store that he knew, and that was where Ed was waiting. Banning parked his MG and they went up to the store. Ed was standing outside.

  “Took you long enough,” he said.

  “It’s a bit of a ride,” Banning replied. “So the guy lives in this part of town?”

  “Yeah. He doesn’t own the car; it’s a rental. But we’ll check that out later. We don’t need the car, we need the guy.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got your priorities straight,” Betsy said.

  Ed flashed her a wry sneer. She was his cousin, and they nearly grew up together. He was used to her baiting him. “Come on,” he said, pointing to their left. “I’m parked over here.”

  Banning rode shotgun and Betsy reluctantly took the back seat. Ed told them the rest as he drove. “The car belongs to a rental company that has an office not far from the hotel.”

  “The hotel where the killings happened?”

  “Ahuh. As I said I haven’t checked it out yet, but if we get our guy here, that’s all we need. I have the address he gave.”

  Banning frowned in thought. “You don’t think he was dumb enough to give his real address, do you?”

  “He was dumb enough to lure a minor to a hotel over the Internet. One of the things I’ve learned over the years is that criminals, whatever talent they have for committing their chosen crimes, are too dumb or too egotistical to think they’ll get caught.”

  “It’s their stupidity that keeps us employed,” Banning put in.

  “True. Somebody’s got to show them the error of their ways.”

  They had reached the neighborhood and all three kept watch on street signs for the address. “There it is, Betsy called from the back and Ed made a turn. They scanned house numbers, which were as always in short supply or obscured by overgrown azaleas. Banning observed that it’s as if some people just don’t want to be found.

  By process of elimination they found the number and Ed pulled into a vacant spot across the street. They walked up to the house and Ed rang the bell. There was a moment’s pause and he rang it again. A motion at a window revealed a curious male face, and after another moment the door was open.

  “We’re Methodists, and we’re perfectly happy with our church,” the man said right away.

  Banning smiled and tried not to chuckle. “We’re not representing a church or religion, sir.”

  “No. I’m from the county police,” Ed said, showing his badge. “We’re looking for a Mr. Bradley Cole.”

  “No one here by that name,” the man said.

  “He’s not here at the moment?” Ed pursued.

  “No, there’s no Bradley Cole living here and I don’t know of one. I’m afraid you folks have the wrong address.”

  “I see,” Ed replied. “Are you sure it’s not one of your neighbors? We may just have the house number wrong.�
�

  “Well, I can’t say I know everybody along here,” the man said, “but if you’re the police you have ways of checking these things out, don’t you?”

  “Yes; yes, we do,” Ed agreed, frowning at the rebuff. “And I’ll do just that. Sorry to have troubled you. Good day.”

  “Sure. Same to ya. No hard feelings.” He shut the door and the trio crossed back to the car.

  “Guess you should have double checked it like he said, Ed.”

  “Well, you never know. Sometimes people have friends or family members living with them.”

  “And sometimes criminals give false addresses,” added Betsy.

  “Sometimes they do.”

  She was grinning at him. He wanted to poke her one in the arm, and she knew he did; just like when she taunted him as kids. But he restrained himself. When she saw he wasn’t going to retaliate, she looked disappointed.

  “Either way,” he continued, “we had to check it out.”

  “Well, I guess the rental agency is next.”

  “Yeah. Fortunately they also have an office near here, so we don’t have to go all the way back downtown.” He unlocked the car. “All this stuff is on computer nowadays anyway.”

  “Isn’t everything?” Betsy asked as she got in the car. When all were back in their seats she added, “I get that it makes it easier for all involved to keep records and have them readily available. But it also makes them readily available to hackers.”

  “That’s a growing crime,” Banning said, “along with identity theft. Haven’t had a case of it yet, but I guess we’ll have one eventually.”

  Betsy thought for a moment. “Boss, we might be in for one now.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, we already know he gave a false address. And he had to have used a fake ID to rent the car.”

  “And the name he signed on the register was different, too,” Banning remembered. “Betsy, you may be on to something.”

  “Hey, I’m still trying to earn that Junior Assistant Detective badge.”