Hard Case 12: Climate of Chaos (John Harding)

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  Then, even as the diners applauded loudly, the curse of the Dark Lord arrived in an almost pathetic aftermath of a wonderful scene. The form of an ogre a few inches taller than me and much heavier entered the bar. Just his appearance quieted the crowd. He smiled, looked around, and headed for us at the bar. The irreverent Nick and Joan entertained with a heartfelt rendition of Simon & Garfunkel’s The Boxer.

  The Ogre stopped in front of me, where I stood listening to one of my favorite tunes. “I am The Cannibal.”

  “I’m not on the menu.”

  The Monsters and Unholies appreciated my reply. Not so, the Ogre, I assumed was Bruno Dornan.

  “You need to show respect, Harding. I heard you did not know who I am. I come to introduce myself. We will fight in the cage soon.”

  “I have a fight on Sunday already. You will need to talk with the UFC hierarchy about future fights. If you become highly ranked fighting known contenders, you’ll get a shot at the title. You look like a fighter who can attract a large audience. The UFC loves that.”

  “It is settled then. We will fight.” Bruno held out his hand. I grasped it in a friendly gesture.

  Bruno decided to crush my hand. Instead, I squeezed more tightly with each passing second until Bruno’s next movement would be to his knees. I released him. He stumbled back, massaging his hand, dawning recognition seeping into the Ogre’s head.

  “No… we will not fight until the UFC sanctions it. Nice meeting you, Bruno. What are you doing in New York? Did you come to see the fight?”

  “Yes… I…I live in Philadelphia.”

  “Good to know. Have a nice day.” I turned around to grasp my Beam brother for a large sip. I wanted to try and hold onto my buzz for at least a few more minutes. Bruno left.

  Nick and Joan returned. Jian kissed his violinist, handing her a freshly made martini. Nick retrieved his beer. “I see you made a good first impression, Dark Lord.”

  “The Cannibal wanted to get romantic on the first date. I’m not that easy.”

  “He must have seen your fight and press conference today. After watching you nearly take Carl Logan’s head off, you’d think he would have been a bit more reflective in his introduction.”

  “You can bet he had someone recording the meeting,” Tommy said. “Wait and see. Later today, there will be stories claiming you and Bruno agreed to a UFC match with a picture of the handshake.”

  “I recorded the meeting and uploaded the video.” Lynn held up her iPhone. “We have proof you said no. Plus, as an added bonus, I have Bruno starting to buckle with a pained look on his face.”

  “Thanks, Lynn. I was thinking about taking a few months off after the Madaki fight. I don’t want the UFC thinking I’m usurping their authority either. They treat me pretty good.”

  Kade had insisted on wearing his Batman mask to dinner and Lora can’t say no to anything he wants to do. He now raced over with his sister trying to make sure he didn’t pitch over onto his face. At least he had pants on. Yeah… he was a comedy hit. He grabbed my leg.

  “Dad! That guy was big. Are you going to fight him too?”

  “He thought you were going to fight the guy right now,” Al explained. “I told him you don’t fight every day… but lately, it seems like you are.”

  I picked up dinner Batman and put him on my lap as I sat down. I used a napkin to clear away food around dinner Batman’s mouth and mask. “Al’s right. The big guy will need to wait his turn. Did you get enough to eat?”

  “Yep. I don’t think you should fight that big guy, Dad.”

  “With Captain Hook training me, I think I’ll be okay.”

  “That’s right! I forgot about Captain Hook. Maybe you should just feed that guy to Hook.”

  Oh my… did that suggestion cause comedy chaos amongst the listeners. Kade glanced around wondering why his suggestion was so funny. He climbed down, spread the cape attached to his mask, and flew off toward the table with Al in hot pursuit.

  Chapter Twelve

  Recognizing Horror

  The last book-signing took place in a Barnes and Noble Bookstore across town. Kade insisted he wanted to go but he needed to wear his Batman mask. I didn’t see any harm in it, so the Unholies, older kids, me, and book-signing Batman attended Nick’s final public appearance. Because it was a weekday, the signing started at 5 pm with what the manager claimed was a record showing. The fight with Logan made every broadcast, newspaper and sporting venue. Naturally, my appearance at the book-signing caused a stir. Like Nick said, it added to the entertainment. Earlier in the day, we all worked out together without a visit from anyone looking for trouble. I signed autographs, posed for pictures, and did plenty of mat work with Jess and Tommy.

  For the first hour, we talked fights, answered law enforcement questions, and Nick signed books. I posed with people, signed autographs, and generally had a great time. Jean tipped us off to a lean, studious looking man, wearing a dark gray suit, black rimmed glasses, and not carrying anything. Jean thought he was a Fury.

  The man started out in good fashion. “Hi. I’m Martin. I saw your fight with Carl Logan, Mr. Harding. That was an amazing performance.”

  “Thank you.”

  It went downhill after that.

  “Mr. McCarty. Why have you not taken on the threat of global warming in your novels? You could have your Diego character take sanctions on climate change deniers.”

  Nick tried to skirt the subject. “Thanks for the suggestion. Do you have something for me to sign?”

  “Uh… no, but would you be willing to take on the travesty of climate change doubters?”

  “Global warming and climate change are hoaxes, designed to rob the populace worldwide to fill the New World Order coffers.”

  “Oh my God! You’re one of those sick people denying the planet’s very existence is in danger!”

  “Yes, but I feel pretty good. Tell me something, what exactly has the New World Order and their global warming minions done to conquer this climate change hoax besides stealing money? They flit around in private jets, living in mansions, and all the while crying crocodile tears over a hot August day in Alabama.”

  The stifled laughter amongst the people waiting in line infuriated the man. He turned on them. “How dare you deniers even exist? Anyone denying climate change should be imprisoned or dead!”

  The boos cascaded down on Martin, even from the liberal New York crowd, until he polar vortexed out of the store a few seconds before being thrown out.

  Nick spent an inordinate amount of time with a thirtyish man with well groomed blonde hair, wearing a black, pin-stripped suit, learning his name in a casual way while signing his copy of Political Sanction. Kelly Rupert seemed like an affable guy. I saw Gus take a photo of the man without him knowing it.

  “I like your assassin, Diego. He’s a cold-blooded killer without conscience. I love that he doesn’t make stupid mistakes.”

  “Thank you, Kelly. I appreciate you stopping by.”

  Kelly left, satisfied with the conversation. We then endured a string of grammar Nazis. Fortunately, our grammar Nazi handclap amused rather than angered them. The kids put on their knife throwing exhibition into my repaired cardboard cutout likeness and Johnny played the Captain Hook training exhibition in a loop. The time flew by. The manager closed the store at 9 pm sharp; but allowed the remaining people in line to get their books signed.

  We packed our stuff while talking with the excited manager for a time. Outside, Nick turned to Johnny. “Anything?”

  “Yes… I have him. He has a house on Bergen Beach Place.”

  “We want in on this, Dad,” Jean said.

  “Fine by me,” Nick replied. “A nice evening in the suite sounds great to me. I’ll write and network with anyone who wants in on the hunt.”

  “I’ll help,” Al volunteered.

  “Me too,” dinner Batman added.

  I needed to get a clue here soon. “I’m confused. What are we hunting?”

  “The blond
e-haired guy is a serial killer,” Nick answered.

  I was carrying Kade to the limousine. I stopped dead in my tracks. “He’s a what?”

  “Serial killer,” Nick repeated.

  Gus patted my shoulder. “Don’t give it a thought, John. If Nick says the blonde guy is a serial killer, then we need to find him.”

  “Nick can spot them in a crowd or a convenience store or a supermarket,” Johnny added. “We will plot a plan once I get satellite imagery.”

  “Wow… I thought I was volunteering for some writing assignment or mystery,” Al said.

  Kade looked at me in confusion. “Dad… why does a guy kill cereal. Does he hate breakfast?”

  Kade even cracked up the kids. The adults all lost more than a few moments visualizing a killer who beats up Coco Puffs because he hates breakfast.

  “It has nothing to do with breakfast, son. The man is a bad guy who hurts other people.”

  “Oh… that’s not good. I know about bad guys.”

  I bet he did. “We’ll go over to Nick’s suite with Al and Lora. If you get too sleepy, let me know… okay?”

  “Okay.”

  * * *

  Lora got along great with Rachel. She loved the view, wine and conversation with other women. Clint and Lynn both came with Clint Jr. Clint wanted in on the hunt, curious as I was about how Nick spotted serial killers. Clint had hunted serial killers as a consultant for the FBI with a flawless record. It wasn’t all work. We planned to sip some good stuff and do the preliminaries on the network. The kids launched right into it the moment Johnny got the network online. Kade played blocks with Quinn and Clint Jr, using toy race cars to knock them down. I sat close to Nick, watching him write a novel while observing progress on the Kelly Rupert hunt.

  “How did you pick Rupert, Nick?”

  “They give themselves away in different manners. With Rupert, his smiling features and roving eyes glanced everywhere, but always returned to Sonny, Jay and Kade. When any young boy entered the bookstore, his attention instantly gauged who was with them and if they stayed together. My book signing was a perfect hunting ground for him. Kelly had to wait in a long line, could have left it at any time, and had a perfectly legitimate reason for being there. The final indicator was looking him full in the face. I can recognize the smiling features, combined with emptiness in the eyes instantly. I used to find it amusing. I don’t anymore.”

  “So, what’s your plan?”

  “For now, satellite recon on his house, while we check for missing male children younger than sixteen. I’m figuring Kelly to be an arrogant rapist/murderer, more intelligent and cunning than he thinks anyone else is, especially the police. He’s probably right, but he came to the wrong hunting ground today. The problem is we don’t have time on our side. Kelly picked my book signing because he’s on the hunt. I don’t want there to be another victim if we can help it.”

  “Absolutely. How many have you caught, Nick?”

  “Probably not as many as Clint. I only act when I stumble on one like today. I’d say probably a dozen. The best captures happen when I find them stalking their intended victim. The confirmation of what they are becomes obvious.”

  “Clint tried to get the FBI, namely Sam and Janie, to broaden their minds and get their noses out of the profiling bible,” Lynn said.

  “This is awesome!” Jean watched Clint’s screen for a moment before returning to her laptop. “Uncle Clint hacked into the guys’ car GPS log.”

  “In the last few days, Kelly has been making the rounds of elementary schools in Brooklyn,” Clint added. “He’s arrogant and he’s never been caught. His record is clean. Rupert works as an accountant and doesn’t even have a traffic ticket. Here’s the kicker. Kelly owns a cabin in Crystal Springs, New Jersey.”

  “Great work, Clint,” Nick said. “Kelly won’t be able to reach his cabin easily with the onset of winter. I would wager the hunt depends on the weather. Crystal Springs can probably be reached all year long, but I’ll bet a snowstorm would be a bear to drive through getting there.”

  “What’s your plan?”

  “Today was the last book signing. With our network, I can write and keep track of Rupert from here. I’ll watch Quinn while Rachel does whatever else she has in mind.”

  “I think I’ll take the day off from doing stuff tomorrow,” Rachel said. “I’ll sit, drink coffee, and take in the Central Park view.”

  “I’ll join you,” Lynn said. “I’m sick of sightseeing. Working out in the gym livened up our New York visit. Maybe Logan will want a rematch with Cheese.”

  “I doubt that, but I will need to train tomorrow as always.”

  “I’ve already texted Achmed and explained the situation with Rupert,” Clint said. “He will be tracking not only Rupert’s vehicle GPS but also his phone. This New York visit turned into nearly a 24/7 mission enabled roller coaster ride, especially our salt-the-earth hit near Islamberg.”

  I didn’t think Islamberg would come back to haunt us. “I haven’t read anything about Islamberg except when that reporter asked me about it. You can bet people heard the explosions outside Islamberg. The state patrol probably investigated by asking residents in the town of Islamberg what happened. They played dumb and the state patrol left it alone. Rumors must me reaching the media. They cover up anything the Sharia Law Mutants do anyway. The New Mexico incident where a Muslim terrorist training camp disappears from the news and the FBI tears the camp apart before anyone can investigate.”

  “That was under the old New World Order regime in the White House,” Gus replied. “The FBI is still a mess. I wonder if Paul has any leads on who leaked our attack on the bunker at the farmhouse.”

  “We would have been in worse trouble if not for Laredo and Cala flying air support,” Johnny added. “I don’t think we should do anymore large missions unless Paul and Denny are the only ones who know about it.”

  Amen to that. “I agree.”

  “On the lighter side, Kade finally put away his Batman mask.” Nick retold Kade’s cereal killing question to the loud amusement of everyone, including the ones who had been there in person.

  Kade walked over momentarily to Nick. “I like going with you and Dad.”

  “We like having you with us, Kade.”

  “Are you going to stop the cereal man?”

  “We sure are,” Nick answered.

  “Good.” Satisfied, Kade rejoined the race car demolition derby.

  * * *

  Kelly Rupert searched the internet bookstore sites nearby, hoping to find Nick McCarty doing another book signing. Ultimately disappointed, Rupert went to work on the company’s accounts. He felt blessed to work at home instead of some cubicle in the city with all the noise and distractions. Kelly completed his work by noon, sending the completed files into his manager, asking for anything else needing to be done. He was a conscientious worker, errorless in his work for the company.

  Rupert dressed casually, but with a winter coat because of the rapidly cooling November weather. He began feeling the delightful anxiousness when stalking his prey. Kelly hated winter. It limited his excursions to the cabin, although extreme weather also limited the number of people wandering around near his Crystal Springs getaway. The best part of the day loomed ahead. Both of his chosen stalking grounds were within minutes walking. He could appear to be out for a stroll; and if stopped, Kelly could prove he lived nearby. Kelly got a little careless one day, watching a particular boy with an inattentive parent at Hickman Playground. Some busybody called the police.

  Playing the horrified victim, Rupert showed the police officers his license, proving how close he lived. He explained he worked as an accountant from home and often journeyed out for a walk to clear his head. Rupert offered to take the officers through his house, but they declined, apologetic for having detained him after they checked his record. Knowing how spotless his record was, Kelly had no fear of the simpleminded police. His computers and phone were completely clear of any porn. He pref
erred real life sexual depravity, ending in the thrill of taking a young life.

  Kelly stopped first at Hickman Playground, near Roy H Mann Junior High School. He walked to the basketball court that had a couple of benches outside the fenced in court. A year ago, Kelly found a young boy playing basketball alone, shooting shots. Kelly offered to play some ball with him, asking about the boy’s parents as they played one on one. The boy, Thomas Jackson, only lived a few blocks from Kelly. His mom allowed him to play ball at the park by himself because usually there were other kids playing, with parents around watching.

  Rupert explained to Thomas he had many odd jobs around the yard he needed done and he could pay Thomas twenty dollars to help get them done. Thomas excitedly agreed. Rupert told him to keep practicing and he would be back in twenty minutes. Kelly jogged home, retrieved his go-bag for Crystal Springs and returned to the park. He waved at Thomas, who brought his basketball to Rupert’s car, and entered the front seat, only to be immediately injected with a syringe. In seconds, with Rupert forcing Thomas down between the seat and dashboard, Rupert drove home and inside his garage. He duct-taped the boy, restraining him in an unmovable form. After gagging Thomas, Rupert transferred him to the trunk. Thomas was never seen again.

  Seeing no one playing on the court, Kelly sat down on the bench. This, he knew, would be perfect. Many times, a first arriving boy would practice shooting while waiting for others. During the week, parents worked. Kids played on the courts from the nearby junior high school. A car drove to the curb and parked. Four pre-teen kids, two girls and two boys, rushed past him to the court entry door. They began playing basketball as a blonde-haired woman sat down beside him. Kelly recognized them from the book-signing. The syringe injected into his neck incapacitated Rupert within seconds.

  * * *

  Lucidity flowed slowly into Rupert’s mind. He recognized being in the trunk of a car, gagged and restrained. Horror overwhelmed him. Kelly could think of nothing he had done to warrant this abduction. Within half an hour, Rupert realized the vehicle was being parked, after hearing a familiar sounding door opening. The trunk lid popped, revealing the familiar inside surroundings of Kelly’s Crystal Springs cabin garage. The blonde-haired woman from the park waved at him with a smile. Next, to his shock, Nick McCarty reached in and yanked him out of the trunk and over his shoulder.