Death By Degrees

by Harrison Drake

  “What do we do now?”

  “I don’t know, Link. We don’t know where he’s gone, where he lives, where he’s taken her. We can get out there and start looking for the car.”

  “Where’s Eddie?”

  “He’s still at headquarters.”

  I didn’t say anything, just walked away and took out my phone.

  “Eddie, it’s Lincoln.”

  “Lincoln, I’m so sorry.”

  “I know. I need you to help now, I need you to find him. I don’t care if it’s legal, I don’t care what you have to do, just find him.”

  “I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know where to start. Everything comes up empty.”

  “Just try, please.”

  “Okay, I’ll keep you posted.”

  I hung up the phone and walked back over to Chen and Kara. “Let’s go find that car.”

  We drove around the city and its environs for two hours or more looking everywhere for any sign of Crawford or the car. I couldn’t count the number of police vehicles we saw on the road; it was as if they had mobilized the entire force. When it came down to it, we banded together like no other. And family was family, whether they wore the blue or not.

  Finally my phone rang. It was Eddie.

  “Okay, I’ve got something. The phone he called you from today, he bought that last night. It was a pay-as-you-go phone that he picked up from a convenience store. We’ve got him on video there. Then this morning, he dropped the two packages containing the radio jammers off at a courier. The two businesses were about a block from each other.”

  “Where?”

  “The neuvième arrondissement… the ninth, it’s in the northwest.” Lyon was divided into several arrondissements - administrative districts - that acted somewhat as neighbourhoods. We weren’t far from the ninth.

  “Anything else?”

  “Yeah, but it wasn’t legal.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I managed to get into the airport’s web history and found everyone who had searched flights from Lyon to Sri Lanka in the last couple of days. There weren’t many. I figured he planned for you to be gone at the time he…”

  “Yeah, I know. What did you find?”

  “I ran the IP addresses from the searches, hoping he hadn’t bothered to use proxies. I couldn’t wait for warrants and the internet providers weren’t cooperating despite the exigent circumstances, so I hacked them. There were seventeen IPs in Lyon but only two in the ninth.”

  “Fuck, you found him?”

  “I’ve got two addresses, hopefully one of them is his.”

  “Which one is closer to the stores?”

  “Rue Chinard. I’ll text the address to you. Click it and it’ll open in your map.”

  “Thank you, Eddie.”

  “Go get her back, Lincoln.”

  My phone buzzed and chimed with the incoming text and I pulled up the address like Eddie had said. Chen had taken the driver’s seat again and I was in the front passenger side ready to navigate. Kara was in the back on the radio relaying the information.

  “Go west, across the Saône.” We were in the small portion of the city sandwiched between the two major rivers, the Saône and the Rhône. The rivers turned the land into a long peninsula consisting of the first, second and fourth arrondissements. We were in the fourth when Eddie called and it didn’t take us long to get to our destination, not once Chen flipped the lights and sirens on and went back to driving at double the speed limit.

  The apartment building was already surrounded by the time we arrived on Rue Chinard. Numerous cruisers were parked out front, lights flashing. I had made sure that Kara relayed the fact no one was to go in or attempt contact until I arrived. We were only a few minutes later than the first car and it had given them time to set up.

  The address was an apartment on the third floor of a small apartment building. The apartment in question, the one we believed Crawford lived in, had a balcony that looked out over the road. Within minutes of my arrival we had snipers on the roof of the building across the street; they kept a watchful eye on the windows through their high-powered scopes.

  “Munroe,” said a voice from behind me. I didn’t recognize the officer when I turned around, but apparently everyone now knew who I was. The angry black detective. “One of the snipers has infrared. There’s only one person in the apartment.”

  Once everyone was in position Kara, Chen and I made our way to the third floor along with a SWAT team, or whatever the French called it. They were our backup. I was going in first whether they agreed or not.

  I took position on one side of the door and Kara and Chen piled up behind me. Two of the SWAT officers took to the other side, the lead carrying a large steel battering ram. It was about two feet long and at least four inches in diameter with two handles on the top. The door was wooden, it wasn’t going to put up much of a fight.

  I raised my left fist in the air. The officer with the ram moved in front of the door. Three fingers went into the air then I lowered them one by one. By the time I had made a fist again, the door had been breached and splinters flew everywhere. My gun was already in my hands as I made my way into the apartment.

  Crawford was almost directly in front of me, sitting on the couch looking perfectly calm.

  “She’s not here, Lincoln.”

  “Where the fuck is she?”

  Crawford didn’t speak. He just looked at me, a smug look on his face.

  “I’m only going to ask you one more time, Crawford. Where is she?”

  He smiled and I took the shot. Feathers flew out of the throw pillow beside him.

  “You missed,” he said. The calm demeanor had cracked slightly and I thought I saw fear in his eyes, even if it was only a little.

  “I never miss. Where is she?”

  “She’s not here. And if you ever hope to find her, you won’t take the next shot.”

  I kept my gun on him as I walked closer. Kara and Chen flanked me on either side, their guns pointed right at his chest.

  “You’re going to tell me where she is, and you’re going to tell me now.”

  “The time isn’t right. You have to be-”

  I didn’t shoot him. I wanted to. I wanted to empty my gun into his smug fucking face.

  But I didn’t.

  I pistol-whipped him instead.

  Crawford slumped over on the couch as blood trickled from a gash on the left side of his head.

  “Put the cuffs on him. If I have to be near him much longer, I will kill him.”

  Chen and Kara didn’t say a word. There wasn’t much for them to say. They did as I asked and I walked out of the apartment then collapsed to my knees in the hallway.

  I lost it. Fully and completely.

  I had been running on pure hatred and adrenaline up to that point and when I realized she wasn’t there, the dump of emotions brought me to my knees.

  Literally.

  Chen came out of the apartment and knelt down beside me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

  “We’re going to find her, Lincoln. We’ll make him talk.”

  I dried my eyes on the sleeve of my suit jacket and holstered my pistol. Chen was right. There was no time for sorrow, not now. For all I knew, Kat was still alive and I had to believe that she was. The emotions would need to wait until I was reunited with her, one way or the other. With every ounce of willpower I had, I pushed the emotions back, buried the fear and pain and heartbreak, and stood up.

  “Let’s bring him in,” I said.

  We escorted him outside to a chorus of cheers from the police officers stationed outside and from the crowd that had gathered around. The people of Lyon had been living in fear since they made us do the press conference after Crawfor
d escaped from us in the park. INTERPOL and the local government wanted the citizens aware that Crawford was in their city, they wanted them to know why so many additional officers had been mobilized, and they wanted them to be cautious.

  Emotions overflowed as people who had spent the last two weeks in a state of fear and confusion realized that the worst of it was over. Crawford was in custody and would be for the rest of his life - there was no doubt about that. The people could rejoice, they could stop worrying. Even though we had made it clear that in general people were not in danger, there was always the worry. People stayed in more, watched their children closer, refused to go out alone.

  It was never them that were in danger. I should’ve listened to Kat when she worried about Crawford targeting me, maybe if I had I would’ve realized that we were all being targeted. He didn’t want me dead, he wanted me broken.

  The applause and cheers, even the people booing at him and calling for his death, only seemed to boost Crawford. He’d come to after his pistol-whipping and was now being brought through the crowd. Whether it was a cheer or a boo he perked up a little more each time; he smiled a little wider. Was he enjoying this? Did he want recognition? It hadn’t seemed that way talking to him, but he had said he expected to be dead following his grand finale.

  I’d left him alive and he seemed grateful for it. This wasn’t in keeping with what I knew of him. Maybe even serial killers could change, or he’d been playing us all along.

  Crawford was searched then secured in the back of a cruiser. Once he was locked up Chen, Kara and I got into our vehicle and prepared to follow behind. A SWAT vehicle took the lead and another brought up the rear. This was an international case of the utmost importance. We had to be certain that no one tried to interfere with bringing Crawford to justice. Serial killers tended to get fan clubs and we couldn’t risk someone trying to free him.

  The trip to the Lyon detachment of the National Police went without incident and in a little over an hour we had Crawford in a holding cell. The press was already aware of what was going on and had surrounded the precinct, taking pictures of Crawford in the back of the cruiser and the three of us in our car as we drove past them into the secure part of the detachment. I knew they were dying for interviews, but they were going to have to wait. The press didn’t know about Kat.

  He had made no complaints during book-in, didn’t even mention me firing a shot off right beside him. When asked about the injury to his head he stated it wasn’t a big deal and refused to talk. He surprised me further when he told me he didn’t want a lawyer.

  “Why would I want a lawyer? I’m guilty and I intend to plead that way,” were his exact words.

  I was glad he hadn’t brought up me shooting at him or the fact I’d knocked him unconscious. They could have tried to pull me off the case, but I don’t think Crawford would have allowed that. It may have been why he didn’t say a word. He wanted me to be the one investigating, to be the one interrogating him. He had me right where he wanted me, and I couldn’t care less. I was ready to play his game, although I had no intention of playing by his rules.

  The fact that he had declined a lawyer meant I could throw him in an interview room right away and we took advantage of that.

  First, we needed to address the press. I had no desire to be long.

  Kara, Chen and I stepped outside and met the mob. They had surrounded the front entrance of the detachment, pens and cameras instead of pitchforks and torches. Personally, this mob scared me more than the angry mobs of old.

  “There will be no questions. As you can imagine, we have a lot of work to do at this time. Duncan Crawford was taken into custody less than an hour ago at an apartment in the neuvième arrondissement. We will update you once further investigation has taken place.”

  “What is the connection between Crawford and the shooting at the school? Sources are saying two police officers were shot, one fatally, and that a woman was abducted.”

  I did my best to remain calm, to not let them see anything in my eyes.

  “That incident remains under investigation. Thank you for your time.”

  I turned and walked back inside before anyone else could get a question out. Kara and Chen weren’t far behind.

  “I know it has to come out, I want it to so people know to look for her. It just, it can’t be me that does it,” I said.

  Chen put his hand on my shoulder. “Let’s worry about Crawford first, hopefully he’ll tell us where she is. If not, I’ll take care of it, Link.”

  We made our way back downstairs to the cell block. Crawford was brought from his cell and secured in the interview room. Kara came in with me while Chen stayed in the monitoring room, watching on closed circuit cameras as everything that happened in the room was recorded. On a case like this, it helped to have two people in the interview room. We could play good cop/bad cop, but in reality, I wanted her in there to keep me from beating Crawford to death with my bare hands.

  Cellblocks in most places had rules regarding firearms: there were none allowed. There had been cases in the past of a prisoner overpowering an officer and taking their firearm. This was a situation that had to be avoided at all costs; and so our weapons were secured in lockers outside of the cellblock.

  It was probably best that way, my trigger finger wouldn’t stop flexing.

  “Alright, Crawford,” I said, sitting down on the opposite side of the table from him. “You’ve had your rights, been told you don’t have to say a word, and you don’t want a lawyer. So can we get on with this?”

  “Whenever you’re ready, Lincoln. But first, let me just say it’s an honour to finally meet you. I just wish it was under better circumstances.”

  “Shut the fuck up. You’re only still alive because I need to know where Kat is.”

  “And then you’ll kill me? Thank you, Lincoln. You truly are a gracious host.”

  “If you want to die so badly, just tell me where she is and I’ll arrange it for you.”

  “I don’t want to die, but I have to. You need to understand the difference. I have resigned myself to my death at your hands, I did so long ago. You need to resign yourself to the fact that you will take my life.”

  “Done.”

  Crawford smiled. “That was easy.”

  “Just tell me where she is. Tell me she’s still alive.”

  “I won’t tell you anything until I’m ready.”

  I stood up and walked around the table. He looked up at me and made eye contact just before I punched him in the right cheek. He almost fell out of his chair, but caught himself before he could. The handcuffs were still on him, but they’d been moved to the front.

  Kara was standing now, watching me.

  Crawford took another look at me, asking for it. I delivered.

  And all he did was laugh.

  “I don’t fear death anymore. Why would I fear a little pain? You have no power over me, Lincoln. You never have and you never will.”

  “Tell me where she is.”

  “Not yet.”

  I hit him a third time and now Kara was coming around to put a stop to it.

  “Tell me where the fuck she is!”

  I went to take another swing but Kara grabbed my arm.

  “Don’t do this, Lincoln. You’re better than this.”

  “No, I’m not. He made sure of that.”

  “It’s not going to work anyway. Sit down,” she said. Then she leaned over and whispered in my ear, “you have to give him what he wants.”

  Crawford was leaning back in his chair looking as relaxed as ever, his handcuffed hands resting on the table. Kara walked back around the table and once she was far enough away I grabbed Crawford’s left hand and pinned it to the table then opened my pocketknife with my right hand.

  “Lincoln, stop!” K
ara said, rushing back at me.

  “I don’t have to kill you, Crawford. I can leave you alive for a very long time, taking you apart piece by piece.”

  “Then you’ll never find her.”

  I closed the knife and put it back in my pocket then turned and walked back around the table.

  “Fine, we’ll play it your way. Talk.”

  “What do you want to know, besides the obvious?”

  “How did you know we’d end up here in Lyon?”

  “Simple deduction. I left bodies around the world. Police officers and agencies really aren’t that bright or good at cooperating. It was obvious that INTERPOL would need to get involved in some manner, even if it was just an oversight position. Of course, I intended for you to be here all along.”

  “Right, that’s why you chose me. But if you intended it, aren’t you deciding your own fate?”

  “Nice try, Lincoln. You know what I meant. They were my actions, yes, but they were guided.”

  “Whatever,” I said. I saw no point in arguing it with him. We were both set in our beliefs and nothing either of us said or did would change that. “Now, your grand finale, this is it – taking Kat. But you said you’d be dead, said I’d kill you. That’s not happening.”

  “This is far from the finale.”

  “Then why Kat, her birthday, the final verse? Revelations 22:21, The grace of the Lord Jesus be with God’s people. Amen.”

  “She was a late addition and it just happened that she fit the plan. But this is not the finale.”

  “And how do you plan on executing your finale from in here. Oh wait, let me guess, ‘it’s already in motion.’”

  “Precisely.”

  “Well, you screwed up anyway. Kat was born on the thirty-first, not the twenty-first. A typo on her birth certificate. She doesn’t fit your plan.”

  “An error on her documents? How interesting. Still, it changes nothing. That was merely a coincidence.”