Possession

by Linda Mooney

  “Smooth move, Romeo,” Sam muttered, backing the vehicle out of the driveway. He slid a glance sideways, but Kiel was wearing that pensive look he was too familiar with. The look that said he was in deep thought, and the outcome wouldn’t be to anyone’s satisfaction. “I’m going to stop at Burger Barn for a hamburger before heading back to the station.”

  Kiel’s reply was a slight shrug of his shoulder.

  Sighing loudly, Sam took the drive-through to get lunch. They were back at the station less than twenty minutes later.

  They both filed their reports stating the weapon of choice had been a length of number four, half-inch concrete reinforcing bar. A member of the Crime Scene Unit was dispatched back to the apartment building to take samples, which were then taken to the lab and morgue for testing. By six that evening they had their answer.

  “Good job on the murder weapon,” Captain Redd began as they entered his office.

  Kiel paused, knowing the other shoe would soon drop. Captain adhered to a strict good news/bad news form of reporting.

  “The rebar matches the wounds on a couple of our victims, right down to the marks on the bones. All we need is the piece he’s using.” The man flipped a page in the folder, read to himself for a few seconds, then closed the folder. “I see we’ve also gathered more evidence that this last murder was committed up on the fourth floor of that same building. Has Miss Laurent been instrumental in helping you on this case?”

  Kiel took the initiative. “Yeah.” He nodded. “She led us to the rebar and the fourth floor apartment where the last murder occurred.”

  “What about a suspect?”

  It was time for the other shoe.

  “That’s going to be a bit trickier,” Kiel began, when Sam butted in.

  “We suspect the killer is doing most of his work in that apartment complex, then taking the bodies to the other locations to finish the job.”

  The captain narrowed his eyes. “You sure about this?”

  “More than sure,” Kiel said.

  “How’s he transporting the bodies? Can we get a handle on the vehicle?”

  Kiel turned to see Sam giving him the eye. “We haven’t gotten a handle on that yet.”

  “What about the dump sites? Are they connected to the victims? Have we gotten any connection between the victims?”

  “We’re still working on it,” Sam muttered.

  “Fuck the ‘still working on it’! What’s it gonna take before you can give me another solid piece of this puzzle? Another victim?” The man was yelling now. He was a bullhorn in a suit and tie. Running a hand over his thinning hair, the captain took a deep breath. “Do I need to put a couple of men at that apartment? Watch for anyone coming or going?”

  Again Sam and Kiel exchanged glances. This time, however, the captain caught their silent signals.

  “What? Speak up!”

  Kiel licked his lips. It didn’t help; there was no longer any moisture in his mouth. A spirit couldn’t even cry. “There’s no telling when or if the killer will kill again,” he commented. “How are you going to justify the use of manpower?”

  “That’s my problem, not yours.” Captain Redd leaned back in his chair. His arms rested on the arms of the enormous chair, fingers tap-tapping nervously on the vinyl. “Well, I gotta admit that Laurent woman has given us more in a couple of days than we’ve been able to gather in three weeks. By the way, how’s she doing?”

  “She’s fine,” Kiel admitted. “We dropped her off at her place on the way back.”

  “What happened at the scene? I was told she fainted and banged her head on the sidewalk.”

  “Too many people.” Sam was quick to intervene. “I think she got jostled by the crowd and it spooked her.”

  “And where were you two nimrods? Weren’t you were supposed to be keeping an eye on her?” Throwing the two men another accusing glare, the captain finally threw his hands into the air. “All right! Enough of the back patting. What’s your next plan of action?”

  Sam hurried to answer. “The connection.”

  “I thought you said you couldn’t find any connection between the victims.”

  “Not between the victims. Between the drop sites. I think we’ve been going about this bass-ackwards.” Kiel turned to his brother. “I don’t think those drop sites are random. I think there’s a reason why the Shredder picked those places to finish what he started.”

  “Think so?” Sam asked.

  “Has to be,” Kiel insisted. “Otherwise, why not just do it all in one place and be done with it?”

  A tiny grin creased one corner of Sam’s mouth. “You gettin’ a hunch?”

  “Yeah. A big one.”

  “Do we need to go back and get J?”

  “No. Not now. Let’s check something out first.”

  “Okay. I’m game. Where to?”

  Giving himself a moment to compose himself, Kiel answered, “The park. Where that big-ass ugly statue of that clown is sitting.”

  It is a big-ass ugly statue. They were sitting on the grass not far from the monstrosity. The park was lightly populated this time of the day. Mostly by dog owners walking their pets, and the occasional teenager on a skateboard or blades. They were all heading for home, and the sun was lowering the curtain on another weekday. Peach-colored rays hit the multicolored representation until it resembled an Andy Warhol reject.

  This was where Kiel said he had awakened to find himself dead. They had been back to this place at least four other times, searching for any clue that would let them know who had murdered him. And why. More so, to hopefully find some scrap of evidence that would give them a place to start searching for Kiel’s body. By this time it would be no more than a skeleton, unless it had been maintained in a freezer or given another form of embalming.

  He watched his brother as the man paced back and forth over the overgrown strip of grass, over the exact spot. Kiel had said nothing since they left the police station and drove here. But Sam could see the emotions waging war on the man’s face, and his heart went out to him. Life had handed his little brother an impossibility, and then continued to heap another and still yet another on top of it. No two ways about it. Being dead sucked.

  “Let’s get on with it,” Sam finally called over to him. “What have you been mulling over?”

  Kiel walked over and sat down on the grass. “Sam, those first two bodies discovered a month ago?”

  “Yeah?”

  “They were found behind that chop shop over on Delano, right?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “Delano’s been tagged as Drug Avenue for the past six years or more, correct?”

  Sam nodded. He would rather follow Kiel’s thought process than interrupt, the same way Kiel would follow his. It was how they worked together. Yin and yang fitting tightly together to form a coherent picture.

  “The second set of victims were up in that apartment, murdered there and torn apart. We know for a fact that complex has been condemned for the past six months, which means it’s highly likely those people had broken in and set up housekeeping on their own.”

  “Granted. Go on.”

  “Victim number six, staged drop number three, was in the alley over in the West Bend subdivision. That’s a highly affluent neighborhood.” He lifted his eyes to catch Sam’s gaze. “We also know for a fact that there’s been a couple of drug busts there.”

  “Sooo, you’re thinking these are all drug hits?”

  Kiel looked off into the distance, but the sight of his fingers nervously plucking the grass at his feet betrayed his inner turmoil. “Gotta be. But, Sam, there’s been at least one other victim of the Shredder. And that death doesn’t fit the pattern.”

  Sam gave his brother a disbelieving look. “Where? When?”

  Slowly Kiel managed to face his sibling.

  “Me.”

  In the first few seconds the blood drained from Sam’s face. A few seconds later an expression of pure disbelief came over him. “I’m list
ening,” he said tautly.

  If it had been anyone else, Kiel knew he would have been lambasted by a hundred questions. Sam knew better than to harangue him, but to wait it out and see if he got all the answers he needed.

  “When I first woke up, I couldn’t remember much. Hell, I couldn’t remember anything. Like you, I didn’t know I was dead until I reached your place. I vaguely remembered pain a-and this voice in my head that kept telling me I wasn’t supposed to be there.”

  Holding a blade of grass in his fingers, Kiel began to peel it apart lengthwise. “Over at the apartment complex, when that blackness came after us, and I told you to get out, it came right up over me and stopped, and I heard that voice again. The same voice, Sam. Only this time it asked me why I was back.”

  The eyes he lifted to his brother were filled with emotional pain. “He told me I had been a mistake. He said he had…he had to fix me.” Kiel huffed with the memory, fighting the fear that always accompanied the revelation. That, and the tightness growing in his chest. Tightness that normally signaled the welling of tears. Except now the tears were no longer a possibility.

  “So the Shredder killed you before he realized you weren’t supposed to be one of his victims? Is that what you’re telling me?” Sam interpreted. “The other two were meant to be his targets, but you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

  Nodding, Kiel reached for another blade of grass. “That’s why I’m here. He fixed me, whatever that entailed, because he’d been in the wrong, and I guess he felt he needed to make amends. But in the process, I guess he made me like him.”

  Sam chewed over this new information. “Why didn’t you say something about this before?”

  “Because I didn’t find it relevant. Not until that thing spoke to me. And then I just…I knew.”

  “You know what you’re telling me, Kiel? You’re telling me there could be other bodies out there that we haven’t discovered. More victims of the Shredder.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you think that if we go back to where we found the first two victims, who we know now are those guys who dragged you off, that we’ll find your body, too?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. But there’s one thing I haven’t told you, Sam. I also know who the Shredder is, or was when he was alive.”

  This time Sam caught his breath in anticipation. Without Kiel mentioning the name, he already knew. “Jack Conader?”

  “Cracker Jack Conader,” Kiel stated. “Dead and bent on getting his revenge.”

  From there the pieces to the puzzle began dropping into place neater than tab A fitting into slot B. Knowing they couldn’t present their findings from Kiel’s point of view, the brothers had to find the evidence to support their theory. Or enough of the circumstantial variety, at least, to convince their captain they were right.

  A little more than a year ago Cracker Jack Conader had been the DEA’s number one target to get off the street. Conader hadn’t been involved with any of the drugs being shipped in from other countries. The man had been a pharmacist before being busted in a child pornography ring and shipped off to the state house for sixteen years. He’d gotten his moniker because he had used candy and other delectables to entice minors into posing for him. Good behavior and the governor’s early parole program had him back outside in five. But in that time the man had managed to concoct a pretty potent drug he called “Possession”, and the stuff was soon touted to be the next Ecstasy.

  It was also a hell of a lot more deadly.

  In less than a month after his release, Conader had gone from child porn advocate to drug dealer. Once again his target audience was the younger generation, from ages as young as twelve. Possession was pale brown in color, resembling raw sugar and almost identical in appearance. In fact, the drug was packaged in tiny brown packets just like raw sugar, and sold for ten bucks a shot. Cheap and easy. Conveniently portable.

  Not only that, but the stuff could be added to any food or drink without a discernable aftertaste. In short, no one could tell they were being fed the drug until it was too late, and the victim went on a wild psychotic ride that had the heart racing like a million dollar, stable-bred Derby winner.

  Death occurred when the heart gave out, unable to keep up the pace.

  For the longest time the coroners and M.E.s were unable to detect the stuff in the victims’ bodies until an accident gave them a clue. During the autopsy of a sixteen-year-old girl who had dropped onto the floor of a local teen hotspot, the examiner’s assistant had knocked over a nearby UV lamp. Normally UV rays weren’t used extensively as an autopsy tool, but the lamp had been on for the coroner to check the girl for any signs of strangulation. The light had been inadvertently left on, and when the assistant had rounded the table to help with examining the body cavity, he had gotten his foot tangled in the cord. The lamp had rotated around and fallen over enough to where it shone directly into the victim’s open chest.

  The cavity had sparkled like a salted gold mine. Once ingested, they found the drug solidified inside the veins and arteries, creating the glittering effect—which could only be detected under ultraviolet light.

  Good police work traced the drug back to Conader, but finding him proved to be a completely different can of worms. That was, until they got word off the street that Conader’s league of dealers had turned on him and neatly Hoffaed the guy. Once they had managed to get the formula from its maker, the man’s life had become a pointless issue. No one knew where Conader’s body was, or who his dealers had been. But Sam and Kiel were quickly getting a handle on the man’s operations, and the hours flew by.

  Their first stop was back at the now-deserted chop shop over on the eastern edge of town where the first two bodies had been discovered lying inside the remains of a Honda Accord. They knew the place had already been thoroughly scoured, but they gave it another shot.

  At one point Kiel announced, “I remember a big open area like this. No windows. At first I thought I was in an abandoned warehouse.” His voice echoed slightly in the cavernous building. Their flashlights rove over the area like curious fireflies.

  Sam glanced around from where he had been going through piles of tires left near the rear of the shop. “You think you were killed here?”

  Kiel’s shrug showed his confusion. “I don’t know.”

  “Any idea why you were dropped off at the park?” That question alone was worth being a Final Jeopardy answer. His brother’s answer, however, stunned him.

  “Because I was an innocent.”

  Sam had to steady his nerves before asking, “An innocent bystander?”

  “Yeah. Here’s my guess. The first two guys, the ones who conked me over the head and dragged me away from the bust? They’re our first two victims.”

  “That we know of. We don’t know that for sure.”

  “I am,” Kiel insisted. “I just have to prove it. I’m willing to bet that the reason they brought me here is because they worked here. And that’s why they also died here.”

  “And the three guys over at the apartment?”

  “I’ll bet there’s a lot more over at that apartment building that we haven’t discovered,” Kiel whispered in a terse voice. “I’ll bet those three in some way were initially connected with Conader’s death. The place may even be where they either concocted Conader’s lethal drug, or distributed it.” He turned to stare at his brother. “That building could be the storehouse.”

  Sam latched onto what Kiel was thinking. “Conader is killing those responsible for his own death, then leaving the bodies in locations where the victims had a second connection, like a place of business. Come on, let’s get back to the station. We need to put this thing in better perspective, and in black and white.”

  Kiel turned to follow his brother outside. It was clear they wouldn’t find Kiel’s body here. Not when the place had already been picked apart by the experts. However an uneasiness persisted in his gut. Where in the hell is the body?

  �
�Don’t want to tackle the apartment building again?” Kiel asked as they climbed back into the car.

  Sam narrowed his eyes at him. “Why?”

  “Maybe my body is there. Maybe we’ll find some more answers, for once. Maybe I’m just killing time.” A confession right now would feel good. He had promised J he would come to her tonight, and that frightened him more than a return trip to the apartment building.

  “But what if Conader comes after you again? Think he’ll continue to be understanding and just let you slide by like you’ve done the last two times?”

  “He’s already murdered me,” Kiel reminded him tartly. “There’s little else he can do to hurt me.”

  “Unless he comes after me.”

  Sam’s remark was barely audible, but it had a sizeable impact on the spirit sitting in the passenger seat. A string of curse words passed the younger man’s lips before he was aware of them. It had gotten dark long ago. Going to the apartment was risky enough in the daytime, but at least there was light to see by. If they attempted to do any snooping at night, chances were more than good Sam could be injured, or worse.

  “You know, there’s something I haven’t been able to figure out.”

  Sam glanced up from where he had been wiping his hands on a halfway-clean towel he’d found. “Whassat?”

  “There’ve been other detectives over at the apartments. Not to mention the Crime Scene Unit. But there was nothing in the reports about suspicious activity. No…” His voice trailed off in thought.

  “Encounter with the Shredder?”

  Kiel nodded. “Yeah. I wonder why.”

  “Maybe they did encounter him but didn’t mention it in their reports.”

  He made a little face. “Guess we’ll have to ask on the QT to find out if that’s true,” Kiel commented.

  “Or maybe the Shredder left them alone,” Sam ventured.

  Hazel eyes bore into him. “Why? Why us and not them?”