The Longest Winter

by Harrison Drake

  “That’s why you never lived in the same city twice. Every time it was a new place.”

  “Exactly. But it started getting worse and worse. I’d stay in a city for less time, because I’d find them sooner or I’d plan it faster. Eventually, I couldn’t hold back anymore.”

  “That’s when you abducted the boys in Belgium. You were doing renovations on a house nearby.”

  Kara had hoped Max would react to her already knowing why he had been there, but it didn’t faze him. He expected them to know.

  “Right. I didn’t plan that one as much. It was a rural area, not where I usually settled. Their schedules weren’t as easy to follow; life isn’t as regimented out there. Eventually I found them alone, it wasn’t hard from there.”

  “Propofol.”

  Max nodded. “That was part of it as well. I never had anything I could use that would knock them out. I would have had to drag them kicking and screaming to my car.”

  “But you got that when you were in Berlin, doing work on a medical clinic.” Max’s face in the news had led to a number of calls from his former employers.

  “I was there after hours. They weren’t worried. Everything important was kept locked up tighter than I ever expected. One night I noticed that one of the medical cupboards had been left unlocked. I took as much of the Propofol as I could and never went back. They would’ve known it was me.”

  “They did. But it’s hard to report a theft when you only have a description and a fake name.”

  Max smiled. “I don’t even remember which one I was using.”

  “James O’Brien.”

  “Right. You’d think a medical clinic would have wanted ID, but everyone wants to save money. Paid me under the table. They never expected one of their interns would leave the drugs unlocked. Once I had that, it just made things too easy.”

  “So you’re saying all of this happened because someone left a medical cabinet unlocked?”

  “That set it all in motion,” Max said. “It would have happened eventually.”

  “Why didn’t you tell someone? Maybe you could’ve gotten help.”

  Kara could see that the question had angered Max.

  “I spent years and years in and out of institutions. Nothing helped, nothing could help. And you know how it is. Even if I told them I was planning on killing someone, they wouldn’t be able to keep me forever. Eventually they’d think they had cured me and they’d let me go.”

  Kara nodded. The state of mental health care was bad everywhere. She had seen it too often in Canada and even though her initial impression was that things were better in Europe, nothing was perfect. There was only so much anyone could do. The really dangerous ones, the ones like Max, they knew how to convince their doctors that they were fine, that the treatments had worked.

  “So the only way to stop the urges was to give in?”

  “Yes,” Max said, surprised Kara understood. “I knew it wouldn’t last forever. I would be caught, and that would put an end to everything.”

  “Then why try to escape? I mean, you killed two pedestrians and a cop to get away.”

  “It was only after seeing my name and face in the news that I realized how much I wanted to be free. My desire for freedom outweighed my desire to put an end to my urges.”

  Kara shook her head. “Two boys, two young men and a rookie cop are dead because you lacked control. Are you really going to let two more boys die? This is your shot at redemption.”

  “I regret the other deaths, but the boys… I do not regret their deaths.”

  Kara was sickened. She wanted to grab him by the neck and choke the information out of him. “So you admit to being a monster?”

  “I’ve never said I was anything else. I am sorry that they had to die, but I have no regrets. They will be together forever now.”

  “You really believe that?”

  He nodded, a placid look on his face. “I have to.”

  “Why? Because they’ll live forever in Heaven? What about you? Do you really think you’ll be forgiven? The crimes you’ve committed, it doesn’t get much worse.”

  “I have seen darkness, Detective. I have lived in it and it consumed me. I believe that I will be forgiven. I am only human. I was given a cross to bear, but it was too great a burden. I believe that He will understand that.”

  “I don’t understand you. You believe in an all-forgiving God, but here you are, sitting in front of me refusing to save the lives of two boys. You think you’ll be redeemed in the next life? Redeem yourself now.”

  He was starting to get angry; Kara could see it building. Anger was good; she needed to break him. “I’ll never tell you where they are. They need to die to receive their gift.”

  “What gift? Being together forever in the afterlife? And if it doesn’t exist? Then I guess you’d be happy with them being buried beside each other.” It took Kara a moment to remember the kids they were talking about. “And anyway, you aren’t making any sense. Claude is gone. He escaped from you. David and Jacques? They won’t be together in death, they’ll either be in different plots or with their own families in the hereafter.”

  “No,” Max said. He forced himself forward, straining against the handcuffs. “I brought him back. There is no David.”

  “David Krier. You abducted him from his home in Pétange.”

  “I brought Claude back. I brought them back together.”

  “No, you didn’t. You can call him whatever you want, but he’s not Claude. You kidnapped another boy to take his place.”

  Max started to shake, his emotions climbing to a peak. He clenched his teeth as he spoke, words forced through the hatred.

  “There is no David! I brought Claude back. They can be together forever now.”

  Kara stood up and walked to the mirror. Sophie sat on the other side, watching the interview unfold. Kara mouthed a single word then returned to her seat.

  “You know this isn’t true. You’ve convinced yourself otherwise, but deep down you know that it isn’t Claude you took.”

  “I’ve had enough of your lies. I’m done.”

  Kara watched the vein in Max’s neck throb with every heartbeat. She couldn’t be certain, but it looked to be slowing down, the rhythmic pulse weakening as he sat in silence. She waited, watching him, until Sophie came in and handed her an envelope. Max looked on with curiosity as Kara unwound the string that held the envelope shut. She removed two photographs and laid them out in front of Max face down.

  “David Krier,” Kara said as she flipped the first photo over. “And Claude Lambert.” She revealed the second photo but Max refused to look. “Look at them, two boys who look nothing alike. You can try to convince yourself all you want, but Claude is at home right now with his family. Jacques is not with his brother. He will die and David will too, but they won’t be together. They’ll just be dead.”

  Max lunged at Kara; the cuffs dug into his wrists and pulled him back to his seat. He yelled in pain and anguish, his face red. “No! Fuck this, I’m not listening to your lies.”

  “Then look at your own,” Kara said. She was standing now, leaning over the table and pointing at the photos. She hadn’t reacted when he lunged at her, not a flinch or a speck of fear.

  I’m in control now, bitch.

  Max shook his head, his eyes cast to the empty table in front of him.

  “Look at them, look at those boys and tell me they’re the same. Claude escaped and it ruined everything. How could you fulfill your plan with only one brother? You needed someone else, but there was no way to get to Claude again, not with him under guard. Maybe you even tried. I bet if I checked the video surveillance from the hospital you’d be on there. You’d see the cops standing guard, the hospital security staff, the parents that never left his bedside, and realize the
re was no way you were getting Claude back.”

  Kara took a breath and continued. “So you went after a boy you knew would be alone, one you could get to easily. You went for someone you knew this time. That was a huge mistake. Hell, you even went for a boy who didn’t have a brother. Maybe you could give him what you wanted, an eternity where he never had to be alone.”

  Kara thought she saw a tear run down Max’s cheek. He was taking deep breaths, trying to compose himself.

  “Well?”

  “He is Claude. He told me his name was Claude.”

  “He told you what you wanted to hear. David was probably terrified, he would’ve said anything to keep you from hurting him.”

  “He wouldn’t lie to me.”

  “He would do whatever he needed to do in order to survive. He told you his name was Claude. Were you beating him at the time?”

  Max didn’t answer, but his expression gave Kara the response she had expected.

  “If I were to beat you right now, and I’m not talking a few punches, if I were to make you fear for your life with every strike, if I were to put my gun to your head, I could get you to confess to kidnapping the Lindbergh baby if that’s what I wanted.”

  “No, he told me the truth.”

  “He lied. Of course he lied to you. You’re a murderer and a pedophile and you’ve convinced yourself that what you’re doing is for their benefit. You’re delusional, and the worst part is that you know it.”

  Max wiped his hand across his face, taking away what little tears he had shed. He sat up as straight as he could and held his head high.

  “I’m done. I want to talk to a lawyer.”

  * * *

  Kara slammed her fist down on the table.

  “I had him. I had him. Fuck!”

  Yuri put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine. We will get it out of him. Do you want me to give it a shot?”

  Kara shrugged. “Think he’ll talk now? Any lawyer worth a cent would have told him to shut his goddamned mouth.”

  “He might. Try another approach, another interviewer. Maybe he will open up to me.”

  “I doubt it. Not now. Fuck, I was so close. I’m just… I’m missing something. There’s a piece of the puzzle we don’t have Yuri. If I had that…”

  “Then we have to find it.”

  “We don’t have time. Those boys, we’re coming up on three days.”

  “Then what? He confessed to everything, and we can nail him with the evidence. Do we go a little heavy-handed and risk having the rest of it thrown out in court?”

  “What? Beat him?”

  Yuri nodded.

  “The thought crossed my mind a few times.” Kara clenched and unclenched her fists as she paced the short distance between the door and the mirror. “I don’t think he’ll crack. Not until we figure out that piece.”

  “Then what do we do?”

  “Give it a shot, see if you can crack him. I just hope he doesn’t lawyer up again.”

  Two hours later Yuri and Kara found themselves alone in the interview room once again, Kara pacing more frantically then before.

  “Nothing! He didn’t say a fucking word for two hours. He just stared at you with that smug look on his face.”

  “Now what?” Yuri looked at her, hoping for an answer. He was out of ideas.

  “I need to make a phone call.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “It’s working!”

  David shuffled over to look at what Jacques was doing. It hadn’t been easy, but Jacques had pried up a piece of the wooden floor beneath the metal hoop that kept them bound to the floor. He had used David’s belt, working the belt buckle into the floorboards until he could get under the wood and lift it up. The broken piece stuck up above the floor, its jagged edges close to the rope.

  “Let’s try it,” Jacques said, taking hold of the rope on his end of the metal hoop. David followed suit, wrapping the rope around his hands. It took some time to find their rhythm, to work in unison with one pulling at a time. The rope snagged on the wood and tore as they pulled, each movement fraying the rope a little more. They stopped several times, exhaustion and thirst getting the better of them. It seemed like hours, though both had lost their concept of time beyond night and day. When the rope snapped their exhaustion turned to elation.

  They had overcome the first obstacle on the road to their freedom. No longer where they tied together, held to the floor by a rope between them. They remained tied, their wrists and ankles bound, then the bindings tied together.

  “Like a pig,” David had said. “That’s how he’s tied us.”

  Jacques rolled over to the piece of wood that stuck up from the floorboard, its jagged edges worn down heavily. He tried to position himself so that he could get to work on the rope that held his wrists to his ankles but it was too awkward.

  “I need to get this piece of wood up,” he said.

  David came over and looked at it, studying the way it rose from the floor.

  “Look out,” David said. Jacques moved and David did his best to kick at the wood, the ropes giving him only enough room to deliver weak strikes. It creaked and cracked as it bent back until it was touching the floor on the opposite side. David took hold of it in his hands and pulled, freeing their new tool.

  “Let me,” Jacques said. He took hold of the wood and began to saw at his ropes. The wood cut into his hand, leaving splinters in his skin, but he persevered through the pain.

  Darkness fell outside their window before Jacques had freed himself. He stretched out for the first time in days and felt his back crack with the effort. He shrugged his shoulders and moved his arms and legs, feeling pain in the joints and muscles he hadn’t used.

  “Quick, give it to me.”

  Jacques shook his head and walked over to David. “My hands are already cut from the wood, I’ll get you free.”

  “It’s okay, I can do it.”

  “No, there’s no point in you hurting yourself as well.”

  David nodded. “Thank you,” he said.

  Jacques could feel the burning in his muscles as he worked, but he pushed past it. The burning in his throat was worse though, a need for water he couldn’t keep denying. He knew it had been almost three days since they had been given any water. He was running on pure adrenaline, but the headaches and dizziness were worsening from the effort.

  When the final rope gave way, Jacques collapsed onto the floor.

  “Jacques?” David moved to his side and shook him to make sure he was okay.

  “I can’t,” he said.

  “I’ll figure out how to get us out.”

  David looked around but found nothing that could help them. He wanted to break the window and scream for help, but he knew he wasn’t strong enough to punch it and he couldn’t risk cutting himself. There had been a boy at his school that punched a window and almost died. When he came back to school he had a scar that ran down the inside of his arm from the wrist to the elbow.

  “There’s nothing,” he said, kneeling by Jacques’s side.

  “The wall,” Jacques said. He coughed then sat up. “We need to go through the wall.”

  “You’re too weak. I’ll do it.” David walked over to the wall beside the door. “But how?”

  “Right there, that outlet in the wall?” David nodded. “Knock on either side of it.”

  David did as instructed and heard the telltale hollow sound coming from the wall to the right of the outlet.

  “Okay, it’s hollow here.”

  “It’s just drywall. You can kick through it.”

  David stepped back and kicked hard, breaking the drywall but not penetrating the wall. He stepped back and kicked again, leaving a foot-sized hole in the wall.

 
“Pull those pieces out and just break it all off.”

  David worked frantically, grabbing onto the broken pieces of drywall and bending them back until they snapped. He tore them down; ripping the paper backing that had held them intact. Once the hole was large enough he kicked through to the other side and went back to pulling the pieces off.

  “Good job,” Jacques said. “Can you get through there?”

  “I… I think so. But what if he’s here?”

  “He won’t be. If he was he would’ve heard us and come in by now.”

  David put his head through the hole he had made and peered left and right. He breathed in the air, hoping for a reprieve from the smell of their makeshift bathrooms – it never came. What he smelled was different, but just as unpleasant. At least it wasn’t as strong.

  “Right, so he’s not here. Okay. I’m going through.”

  Jacques pulled himself to his feet. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chen and I waited by the vending machines while Kat spoke with her doctor. She was being released, but the battle was far from over. Her strength was coming back - the dehydration and malnutrition had been staved off - but it would still take some time before she was back to her old self physically.

  The doctor had been in contact with a colleague in Warsaw, a neuropsychiatrist, who was willing to see Kat. He was one of the best, we were told, and rarely saw patients anymore. His work had shifted toward research, but Kat’s case was such a rarity that he was willing to take her on. We knew what it meant, we knew that she was going to be the subject of a paper or a book down the road, but it was fine. Kat needed the best, and we were willing to pay his price.