by Jon Mills
For the first time since he’d arrived in San Francisco the sky was a deep blue, with hardly any clouds in sight. Even the temperature had risen into the low seventies.
The property was located on Prospect Avenue in Bernal Heights. A prominent neighborhood in the southeastern part of the city, it overlooked the skyline and had a small-town feel to it. It sat in the city’s downtown and was bisected by Cortland Avenue. On the way over he’d passed numerous small markets, cafés, restaurants and hair and nail salons. With its sweeping view of the skyline, it looked like a good place to raise a family.
“Hello? Anyone home?” Jack had knocked several times on the turquoise-colored door but got no answer. Standing on the porch he cupped a hand over his eyes and peered through the dusty windows and noticed that it was fully furnished. The property was under his mother’s name, Jill Bernard. He stepped back and looked up the street.
Farther up the road, a microwave transmission tower loomed over the colorful homes. It was situated on a large rocky hill that was referred to as Bernal Heights Summit.
“Can I help you?”
Jack jerked his head to the left to find a neighbor had stepped outside. The man was roughly the same height and build as Jack, six-two, broad shouldered, except he had thinning hair that was swept back. He wore a plaid shirt, jeans and boots and was wiping what looked to be blood off his hands with a white towel. He noticed Jack staring, and he smiled. “Sorry, I was tenderizing a steak for dinner this evening. I like my meat rare.”
“Wondering if you know where the homeowner is?”
“You from the city?”
“No.” He looked off down the street of uniform houses.
“Ah, it’s just we’ve had some issues with the water lately. I thought you were here to check on the pipes.” He tossed the hand towel over his shoulder and leaned against one of the wooden porch pillars. All the homes were so tightly pressed together he could have reached over.
“You know the family?” Jack asked.
He sighed. “Yeah, I’ve been living beside them since the early nineties. Looking out for Jill after, well... They were good people. But you won’t find them here anymore. Jill passed away from cancer three years ago, and her husband died back in the eighties.”
“They lost their son, right?”
The man narrowed his eyes and hesitated a second before replying. “They did. How did you know that?” He frowned. “Who are you? I didn’t catch your name?”
“I didn’t give it. Jack Winchester.”
The man leaned across and shook his hand. He had a tight grip, and held it for what might have been deemed as an uncomfortable amount of time.
“Yeah, it was a tragic death. She was never the same after she lost him.”
“Ah, that’s too bad, I was hoping to speak to her.” Jack shifted from one foot to the next and glanced back in through the window. “So someone else bought the property?”
“No, before she passed she asked me to take it on. I’ve had it on the market a few times but it doesn’t seem people want to pay the asking price, so I took it off.”
“Really?”
“Well, I helped her in her final days and she didn’t have any other family.”
“That’s quite admirable.”
He shrugged but didn’t add anything to it.
“Do you mind me asking what this is in regard to?” the man asked.
“Her son had come forward a long while back claiming that the Zodiac was his father. Seemed the San Francisco Police Department dismissed him for falsifying evidence, wasting police time and basically clamoring for media attention.”
“Well that’s not true.”
“No? So you knew about that?”
“It’s hard to not notice when the media was at her door every day for several months.” He scrutinized Jack, and Jack got a sense that his demeanor had changed. He was no longer interested in why he was there and looked more annoyed.
“And who are you?” Jack asked.
“Leonard.”
“Leonard…”
“Tomlinson.”
Jack shifted down one step as though he was about to leave.
“Did Earl have any brothers, sisters?”
“None.”
Jack bit down on his lower lip. “So what happened?”
“What?”
“You said it wasn’t true what Earl did. I gather that means you believed his story?”
“I didn’t say that. Let’s not put words in my mouth, Mr. Winchester. That’s what the media does. Unless of course that’s who you’re from?”
“Actually I’m here because of a friend.”
“Oh?”
“Her son was killed by this coward who’s on the loose at the moment.”
His brow pinched. “Coward?”
“Well, that’s what you call someone who walks up to two unarmed kids without reason and kills them, is it not?” Jack asked.
Leonard didn’t reply initially, he just stared back blankly then spoke, “Yeah, I’d say so.” He then raised a finger. “Just out of curiosity, why were you hoping to speak to Jill?”
“Well seems to me that whoever is doing this, is either infatuated with the Zodiac, or they’re trying to prove a point, more specifically, send a message to the lead detective. I figure it’s a little of both. Now, being as a lot of people have come forward claiming the Zodiac was their father, perhaps one of them felt a little burned after being dismissed by the cops. Maybe, just maybe they wanted to punish the cops for dismissing them, or we could just have a lunatic on our hands. Again, I think it’s a little of both.”
Jack stepped down the small series of steps only turning back one final time before he left. “I hope you manage to sell the place.”
He nodded, but said nothing. Jack made his way back to his vehicle and slipped behind the wheel. He started the engine and watched the man linger on his porch as he pulled away.
* * *
Leonard felt his collar tighten as he closed the door behind him. No one had got this close. No one had shown up on his doorstep making these kinds of enquiries. Who was this man? And that whole line about being a friend of a victim — that was bullshit. He had to be a plainclothes cop. That bitch of a detective must have put him up to it? Maybe he had underestimated the department and finally they had deciphered the code. Perhaps… He clenched his jaw and smashed his fist against the door then peered out again checking to make sure he was gone before snagging the keys off the hook and going back out. He went around to the home where the stranger had knocked and let himself in.
It was dusty inside; it had been a while since he’d been in. It needed a clean.
The last thing he wanted was someone checking into the property, digging up Jill’s records. And if this guy had managed to find the death certificate, what else had he unearthed? The look on his face. That smug sense that he had discovered something.
He needed answers, and he knew where he’d find them.
Leonard shuffled along the hardwood, which was scuffed and dull. He unlocked a door that went down into the basement. There, he crossed over to a large white freezer in the corner of the room. It had a lock on it. He thumbed through the keys on the chain until he found the right one and then inserted and gave it a twist. As soon as the metal gave way, he lifted the heavy top and vapor poured out. The inside illuminated, and there, wrapped inside a clear plastic tarp, with a hole in the back of her head was Jill Bernard — his mother.
Chapter 23
The woman rolled around in the trunk of the Chevrolet Impala. She hadn’t stopped kicking against the side since Vinny and his crew had scooped her up in a grocery store parking lot. It had been like taking candy from a baby. They punctured a tire and when she returned, Marko drew her attention to it, while Vinny came up from behind and muffled her cries with a rag. They were gone within a matter of a minute. All that was left behind was a bag of groceries, and scattered cans of beans.
Now they were three blocks down
the road from Dana Grant’s residence. Angelo had made it clear that he wanted both of them because he couldn’t determine which one was connected to Jack. The car idled, and Marko smoked a cigarette while Vinny stared at the two police cruisers outside her home.
He got on the phone to Angelo to update him.
“Yeah, we got Nora Gilbert but the other woman has cops posted outside her house.”
“Cops? Were there any outside Gilbert’s house?”
“None.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Does Gilbert know who Winchester is?”
“I haven’t asked her, you want me to?”
“Of course.”
Vinny got out of the car and went around to the trunk. He remained on the phone and kept an eye on the homes nearby. The last thing they needed was someone seeing the woman in the back.
“Put her on the phone.”
He popped the trunk and the woman let out a muffled scream so he struck her across the face.
“Shut the hell up. Now I’m going to remove the tape from your mouth. You scream and I’ll kill you, do you understand?” She nodded, teary eyed and red in the face. “Someone wants to speak to you.”
He tore off the tape and she gasped for air. Vinny leaned into the trunk and placed the phone to the woman’s ear. He could just make out Angelo speaking with her. A few seconds later she shook her head. “I don’t know him. Never even heard of him.”
She then looked up.
“He wants to speak to you.”
Vinny placed the phone back to his ear, leaned in and covered the woman’s mouth even though she begged him not to. After, he slammed the trunk shut and leaned against the vehicle.
“So what do you want me to do, boss?”
“It has to be Grant. Listen, cut loose Gilbert.”
“But we just picked her up?”
Vinny could hear her muffled cries in the back. He was getting pissed off with hearing her kicking the crap out of his car, he was looking forward to putting a bullet in her head.
“And I’m telling you to let her go. Drop her off on the outskirts of the city and then focus all your attention on Grant. Where she goes, you go. That bastard is going to show up soon and when he does, deal with him. And Vinny, don’t kill the woman.”
“Grant?”
“No, Gilbert. Just let her go and threaten her.”
“Okay. Whatever you want.” Angelo hung up on him and for a few seconds he stood there looking at the cruisers in the distance. He brought a hand up to his ear, which was bandaged up. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on Winchester. His death was going to be long and drawn out.
Vinny slid in behind the wheel and pulled out into the street. The Impala crawled away, past the cruisers and on towards the outskirts of town.
* * *
“I told you, I’ve tried his number, but it’s not getting through. I don’t know where he is,” Dana replied.
Romero stared back at her. He’d spent the better part of the day sitting inside her home waiting for a phone call from Winchester. Dana knew full well that Jack would have tossed his phone by now. He wouldn’t be coming anywhere near this place. She was tired, hungry and just wanted them out of her house.
“I have rights, you know.”
“And we have a dead man, and a letter that is related to you.”
“I have a dead child. Shouldn’t you be out there looking for the individual who killed him instead of bothering me?”
She got up and walked into the kitchen and one of the officers followed her. It didn’t matter where she went in the house, they were watching her every move.
“You want to give me some space?”
The officer tossed up his hands. “Just doing my job, ma’am.”
“No, you are wasting time. He’s not going to show here. Now unless you have cause to arrest me, I want both of you out of my house. You want to linger, you can do that outside but I want my privacy.”
She folded her arms and leaned against the kitchen counter. Romero entered the kitchen and looked at the officer, he made a gesture with his head and they moved towards the front door. Before he left, he turned back. “Until we find out where he is, an officer is going to be outside at all times. Where you go, he goes. You understand?”
“I understand you are close to facing a civil lawsuit. You do not have the right to do this.”
He stared blankly then headed out the door. She closed it behind him and slumped down. It was a living nightmare. Not only was Jason gone, but she was reliving her past all over again. Wherever Jack was, trouble followed. Dana headed into the living room and closed the blinds. Outside it was already dark but she could see under the streetlights, Romero chatting to two officers before getting into his cruiser and pulling away. The officers slipped back into their cruiser and brought their windows down. She shook her head. They were going to be out there all night. She felt useless. Not only had she failed her son, she couldn’t even assist Jack.
Dana returned to the kitchen and took a seat at the table. She powered on her computer and accessed the internal San Francisco Chronicle intranet to find out if there were any updates to the case.
* * *
The receiver earpiece was small — no bigger than a grain of rice. It disappeared easily into Detective Hudson’s eardrum and would later be removed using a powerful magnetic extraction rod. It worked off electromagnetic induction technology. Anyone looking at her wouldn’t have been able to tell she had it in. Hudson would be able to hear everything the listening post was saying to her, just in case they had to sound the alarm if she was in danger.
Hudson was more concerned that it would fail and the lunatic would nab her without the task force getting to her in time. She would have been lying to say that she wasn’t nervous. Even though she’d been trained to deal with the worst of society, there was something about this individual that scared her. He’d already outwitted the police multiple times and bypassed what little security they had for her since his early threats.
She was even beginning to wonder why she’d listened to Winchester in the first place.
Even though the captain had given the all clear as the sun set she was starting to have second thoughts. It was her team that tried to reassure her. “I know it feels like you’re throwing yourself to the lions but this isn’t any different from a sting operation we have done in the past — remember that. Instead of entering a crack house undercover, we’re just waiting for him to show up. You’ll be surrounded by us at all times, even though you won’t be able to see us,” Westbrook said.
“Yeah, I know,” she told him, trying to remain composed. She wasn’t. It was a nerve-racking experience. She was carrying two handguns, a Glock 22 in a shoulder holster, and a small Colt Mustang XSP near her ankle. Her loose dark pants covered it.
“Remember, we will have snipers posted with a clear shot of your apartment from both sides. Keep those blinds open.”
Romero drove Hudson home to Jefferson Street, a waterfront neighborhood in the north end. None of the task force vehicles followed. It was important to give the lunatic the impression that it was just another ordinary day. When she entered her apartment, it would be just her alone.
She’d driven the twenty-minute stretch home countless times but now the streets seemed darker than before. Ominous dark clouds blocked out what little light came from the moon. The expectation of what lay ahead kept her from hearing what Romero was saying to her on the way back. She caught some of it — something about no luck with Winchester and leaving Officer Daniels and Sanchez to keep watch over her.
“You still hear me?” Westbrook asked.
“Loud and clear,” Hudson replied as the cruiser came around the last corner leading up to her apartment. As she went to get out of the vehicle, Romero leaned across. “You sure you don’t want me to come in? I’m good company.”
She smirked. “Does that line work on your dates?”
“No but I thought I would try it
with you,” he said before grinning.
She closed the car door and headed up the steps. It was dark inside and her mind was already beginning to play tricks on her. What if he was already in there? She felt her pulse begin to race as she took out her keys and inserted them into the lock. They can see and hear everything, she reminded herself. Relax. Entering her apartment was tougher than expected. She fumbled around in the dark for the light switch and felt a smidgen of relief when the lights came on. Milo, her cat, came padding over and greeted her in the usual fashion by brushing his head up against her ankles.
“Hudson—” Romero’s voice in her earpiece felt reassuring. It was like having him right there with her. “You know this is the first time I’ve seen your apartment since you moved in. You want to give us a tour?” He chuckled, and she tried to stifle a laugh. It felt odd having the task force watching and hearing her every move, especially since she was going to have to use the washroom soon.
She entered her living room and cast a glance around. Every corner held the potential of hiding someone. She flicked on as many lights as she could and opened the blinds to make sure the snipers could see.
“How we doing?” Romero muttered.
“All is good.”
The truth was, Hudson was anything but good. Her stomach was in knots, and she kept wanting to reach for her piece under her thin suit jacket. She’d only moved into the building four months ago. Before that she’d been living with her husband of four years. Once that collapsed she’d moved out and found a place in an upscale neighborhood that was located two blocks from the harbor, the Palace of Fine Arts and the Marina Green. She’d heard a lot of good things about the neighborhood even though it cost her a lot to live there. It had one bedroom, one bathroom, hardwood floors, a garage and modern appliances. If it wasn’t for her cat and long hours, she would have felt alone. Fortunately she had good friends in the department.
