Cold Justice (28 page)

Four uniforms made a stern line in front of the stage,
keeping the reporters from crowding in too close. Two more stood back further,
as if acting as bodyguards for the Captain and his entourage.

As the chief, Diego, and the crown came down the steps, the
crowd hushed. As Diego stepped to the microphones, all eyes were on him.

He cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all
for coming. I will make a brief statement and then accept your questions.”

Recorders hummed, cameras clicked, red lights glowed, white
lights flashed, and pencils worked.

“As you are aware, there have been two shocking murders in
recent days. Yesterday, the body of Vera Blackley was found in a dumpster. She
had been strangled, and was there for three to four days before finally being
discovered.” He paused. “This morning, the body of a female was found in
Richmond Valley Park. Her throat had been slit, and apparently the murder had
taken place last night and her body discovered this morning.”

Someone shouted, “Are the two murders related?”

Diego frowned. “I will take questions later.” He looked over
the eager crowd before continuing. “The city can rest assured we are doing
everything to bring the killer, or killers to justice. It’s too early to know
if the same perpetrator killed both victims or not. We are assuming there are
two murderers out there, as the manner of death, and other circumstances, are
completely different.” He paused. “I will take your questions now.”

Hands shot up and mouths spit questions. Diego pointed to a
reporter near the back.

“Sir, do you have the name of the second victim?”

“All I can tell you is it was a woman. Her name won’t be
released to the public until her next of kin can be notified.” He pointed at
another raised hand.

“Do you have any suspects?”

“Not at this point, but we have several persons of interest.
We are expecting an arrest at any time, and this killer, or killers, will be
caught and face the full extent of our judicial system.”

“What about Blackley?”

Diego looked at the Crown Attorney. He stepped to the mike. “Charges
against Mr. Blackley have been withdrawn. There is no evidence he was involved
in the death of his wife.”

Diego pointed to Lisa Krunk.

Lisa said, “Captain Diego, informed sources have assured me
the death of Abigail Macy is directly related to these two new murders. What do
you have to say about that?”

Diego frowned. “Abigail Macy’s death was ruled as suicide by
the medical examiner. Her case is closed, and there’s no relation to the
others.”

Lisa was ready with a second question. “What are you doing
to ensure the citizens of this city are safe?”

“We have no reason to believe the people are in any danger,
but for any who are worried, I have this advice. Use your normal common sense.
If you need to be outside after dark, make sure you’re not alone, and stay away
from unlit areas. Keep your doors locked, both at home, and when in your
vehicles.”

Someone shouted, “Did the second victim know Vera Blackley?”

“I have already stated we don’t think the murders are
related, and to the best of my knowledge, the victims did not know each other.”
Diego pointed to the reporter beside Lisa.

“Captain, have you been able to ascertain a motive in either
murder?”

Diego thought a moment. “In the case of Vera Blackley, as
she was strangled, it appears to be a crime of passion. In the case of... the
second victim, it appears to have been a mugging gone wrong. The female victim
had no handbag or identification with her, which is unusual, and at this point
we are assuming she was robbed.”

“So, you are looking for a male in both cases?”

“The manner of death in both cases is consistent with a male
perpetrator, yes.” He leaned into the mike. “We have no more information at
this point, and there will be no more questions. Again, thank you all for
coming,” he said, as he turned away.

He nodded to the crown and the chief, and they went back up
the steps, ignoring the jumble of questions from the reporters below. As they
stepped into the precinct, the shouts died out and all that could be heard was
Diego’s uneasy sigh.

Chapter 49

Friday, August 19th, 2:14 PM

TOMMY SALAMANDER idled his motorcycle into an alleyway two
buildings away from his own. He dropped the kickstand and swung from the bike.

He was a little worried about that big guy who had come into
his apartment and accused him of killing the girl. How did he find out? He sure
didn’t want to see that clown again, and hoped he was gone, but he had to get
into his apartment and get that note. It was worth five grand to him. He
chuckled. Maybe more.

He hoped good old Uncle Boris was right and if the cops knew
something, they would have been here already. Well, they weren’t, but the big
guy was. So, what did he want?

He crept carefully back up the alley to the sidewalk,
keeping a close watch in every direction as he made his way slowly to his
building. He pushed the front door open and peeked inside. No one was around.
He went in and took the steps as quietly as possible to the second floor. The
floorboards squeaked a couple of times as he edged down the hall. He hesitated
when he reached the door of 201, and then gradually turned the knob and eased
the door open a few inches.

He peered inside. Rachel was sitting on the couch, watching
TV like always. The door squeaked faintly as he pushed it further. She looked
up.

“Is he gone?” he whispered.

She nodded and turned back to the TV.

He pushed the knob, opening the door enough to squeeze
through. The knob was suddenly ripped from his hand as the door slammed behind
him. He spun around.

The big guy was there. The clown had been waiting behind the
door, and his ugly girlfriend had betrayed him.

The mountain of a man looked at him and smiled. “Hi, I’m
Jake,” he said. “And I would like to talk to you.”

Tommy tried to run, but was caught by the shoulder.

“Sorry. Not this time,” Jake said, as he yanked on his arm
and spun him back around.

Tommy tried to shake free, but the grip was too tight. He
swung his other hand but it was soon pinned as well. He stood still and stared
up at the face of the guy that looked like he could tear him into strips.

He was spun around again, his arm wrenched behind his back.
It felt like a bone might snap as he was propelled forward. Rachel rolled out
of the way as he was swung around and thrust backward onto the couch.

He didn’t move. He watched as Jake shut the television off,
pushed the footstool over and sat down facing him. Rachel went to the front
door and sat in a straight-backed chair against the wall.

Tommy frowned at Jake. “What do you want?” he asked, fear
beginning to control his voice.

“You killed Samantha Riggs.”

“You’re crazy.”

“We have a witness that saw you, and I just want to know
why.”

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

Jake sighed. “You are going to make this difficult for me.
See Tommy, here’s my problem. I’m a nice guy, and I don’t like to hurt people.
I prefer not to make an exception in your case, but what can I do?” He
shrugged.

Tommy glared and said nothing.

“I want you to know I’m not happy about doing this,” Jake
said, as his hand shot forward and cuffed Tommy on the side of the head. It was
only a slap, but he was knocked sideways, landing on his side against the
couch.

Tommy rolled forward, stumbling to his feet in an attempt to
get away, but was sent spinning, and fell back down with a whoosh of the
cushion.

“Why did you kill her?” Jake asked.

“I didn’t.”

“Who hired you?”

“Nobody.”

Whack. Tommy’s head shot back. He brought his hand to his
nose. It felt like it was broken. There was a warm trickle, tasting like blood,
on his lip. He struggled to stand, but was held firmly by a big hand on his
chest.

“Sorry,” Jake said. “Sometimes I just can’t help myself. I
hope that didn’t hurt too much.” He removed his hand, slipped a tissue from a
box on the stand beside the couch and handed it to Tommy. “Here, clean yourself
up.”

Tommy took the tissue and dabbed at his nose, keeping his
eyes on his attacker.

“Is that better?” Jake asked. “Are we friends now?”

“We’ll never be friends.” His voice sounded nasal, the blood
gathering in his nose.

Jake sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Wham.

The blow caught Tommy on the other side of the head. He fell
sideways, but was quickly yanked to a sitting position by a pair of muscular hands.

“Who hired you to kill the girl?”

“Nobody.” His voice trembled.

“You killed her, didn’t you?”

Tommy was afraid now. He had had enough. He needed to think
of some way out of this. “Are you a cop?” he asked.

Jake shook his head. “No, I’m not a cop. Now, did you kill
her?”

Tommy nodded slightly. “Maybe.”

“Who hired you?”

Tommy shrugged. “Just some guy.”

“Who was it?” Jake asked. “I don’t care about you. I just
want to know who hired you.” He grabbed Tommy by the hands and bent them
backward at the wrists.

Tommy howled in pain and tried to break out of Jake’s hold. “I
don’t know. I don’t know.”

Jake relaxed his grip. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“It was just some guy.”

“What guy? Tell me who it was or I’ll break both of your
wrists.”

The big guy looked like he meant what he said, and Tommy had
a feeling it would be rather easy to snap his wrists. The guy didn’t look so
mean, but the strength in his arms was impressive. “I don’t know who it was.
Honest.” He shook his head and tried to make it look like he was telling the
truth. “I don’t know who it was. He paid me a hundred bucks. That’s all I know.”

Jake dropped Tommy’s hands and sat back. “A hundred dollars.
That’s all her life was worth? A hundred dollars?”

Tommy tucked his hands under his armpits, as if to protect
them from further pain. He glowered at Jake, shaking furiously in fear, but
determined not to say who it was that had hired him.

Jake drew back his fist. “What did this guy look like?”

Tommy stared at the massive fist and his voice quivered. “I
don’t know. I never saw him. He just called me, and we made a deal, and he
dropped the money in my mailbox. That’s all. I swear.”

The big guy looked like he didn’t believe him. He couldn’t
say who had hired him or he wouldn’t get his five grand. He had to hold out, no
matter what.

Jake unfurled his fist and reached for his iPhone. “Smile
for the camera,” he said, as he held it up.

Tommy looked sullen as the camera clicked.

Jake stood suddenly, knocking the footstool back. Tommy
watched him walk to the bedroom and return a moment later with a suitcase. It
was Rachel’s suitcase. His head swiveled as his eyes followed Jake back, past
the couch, to the front door, and out.

Rachel stood and took one last look at Tommy, stuck her nose
in the air, and followed the big guy out, slamming the door behind her.

Chapter 50

Friday, August 19th, 2:17 PM

ANNIE DROVE SLOWLY down Rambling Road, following her GPS.
She saw 133 on her left, kept going for another fifty feet or so, and pulled
over.

She threw her handbag over her shoulder, stepped from her
car, and crossed the road, surveying the property in front of her. A
whitewashed picket fence separated the property from the road. Twin stone
pillars guarded the driveway entrance that was secured by a massive wrought
iron gate designed to keep out intruding vehicles.

Set on perhaps five acres of land, ancient trees lined the
long driveway running to the house, making the dwelling barely visible from
where she stood. A well-kept lawn, peppered with more trees, took up a large
area in front. Bordered from the neighboring estates by a sea of trees and
vegetation on either side, it appeared the huge properties on both sides of
Rambling Road had once been carved out of an old forest, clearing only enough
space for the buildings and front lawns.

Annie walked down the side of the road until she was out of
sight of the house. She climbed the fence, swung her leg over and dropped down,
landing on a pile of dead leaves that had blown against the barricade.

She brushed herself off and continued on through the
forested area, keeping near enough to the tree line so she could see the house,
while staying back out of sight in the dimness of the trees in case someone
glanced her way.

After several minutes, she made it adjacent to the house.
She had a clearer view from here. She crept a little closer to the tree line,
keeping behind massive trunks and leafy bushes. Now she could see the full side
of the mansion. There was a three-car garage directly ahead of her. Above, and
behind the garage, were half a dozen windows, shining light into the house.

She studied the windows for some time. Finally, satisfied
there was no one in those rooms, as far as she could tell, she took a chance and
ran the short distance across the lawn to the garage.

She hugged the wall and eased along until she reached a
small window in the side. She poked her head around and peered into the dim
room.

She saw a red Mercedes convertible.

Her heart was pounding through her chest. She knew now,
Hoffman had been the visitor to Vera Blackley’s house, and unless he had
another car, he was at home, and prowling around his mansion somewhere.

But she had to get inside the garage. She had to know for
sure if he was a murderer. There was no point in calling the police with what
little circumstantial evidence she had.