Molly Brown (10 page)

Connell cocked his head, tried to second guess him, but couldn’t.
He found he was increasingly reluctant to mention anything relating to Molly, so he decided to keep Molly’s apartment out of the conversation.  “I was checking out your guys, earning my pay, Gerry, you’ll be pleased to hear, and this weirdo obviously took exception to my sniffing around. I confronted him. He zapped me. End of story. What’s the big deal?”

“What did he look like?” asked Hamilton

Connell wasn’t likely to forget, “Tall, thin, dark eyes, a bit creepy, to be honest. Like he maybe should have had a forked tongue.”

“When did it happen?” asked Gerry.

“I dunno - last night, about six-ish.”

“Was that before or after your run in with Gibbons and Scott?”

“After. Why?”

Hamilton looked at
each of the men in turn and returned his gaze to Connell. “It appears that you’re a very lucky man, Connell.”

“I am?” he didn’t feel very lucky. He’d been beaten up, knocked out cold, dragged in o
n some bullshit charge, and had his back shredded by a psychotic cop.

“I saw you taking an interest in the incident board,” said Hamilton.

“Doesn’t mean I’m your killer.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

“So?”

“So, did you notice anything about the bodies, other than the fact they’d all been disemboweled?”

Connell shrugged and felt the adhesives strips on his back pulling. “I don’t know. They were all cops …”

“Yeah, funny guy, they were all cops. If you’d looked a little closer
, though, you would have seen that they all carried a fresh burn similar to yours, Connell. You see, all of our victims were zapped with some kind of taser or stun gun prior to being killed.”

“You think it’s the
same guy?” asked Connell slowly, recalling the unease he’d felt in the guy’s presence.

“How many freaks do you think we have running around town with a zapper?”

“It was more than a simple taser,” said Connell. “I was out cold for half an hour.”

“He’d need that time to get busy with the knife,” said Wilson. Connell glared at him. Oh, so now he had something to say.

“So, how come I’m not carrying my innards round in a carrier bag?”

“Maybe he was disturbed.”

Connell thought about it, recalled the strange look on the guy’s face, amusement maybe. If he had been disturbed, there was only one person who could have done the disturbing. He turned his gaze back in the direction of the wall. The layout on the map, the locations of the murders, he had seen it someplace else. Suddenly Connell wanted out of there.

“You got a spare shirt?” he asked Wilson.

“I’ll find you something,” he replied, rising from the table and leaving the room.

“Cool,” he called after him. “Just make sure tha
t it hasn’t got ‘Property of Rikers Island’ written all over the back.”

Wilson smiled shrewdly.
Connell decided he’d come back with an orange jumpsuit.

“There’s a flaw in your thinking,” he said as he reached around for his jacket, hooked over the back of the chair. “All those guys, those victims, were on the take.”

“And you’re not?” asked Hamilton. Connell sent him a withering glance. “Maybe our guy thinks the same as most others, that you walk a little close to the line, that there’s rarely smoke without fire,” continued Hamilton.

“What are you saying here?” said Connell
, leaning forward in his seat. He could feel his hackles rising and was glad they’d decided to join in. They were a counterbalance to the churning in his gut.

“He’s not saying anything
that hasn’t already been said before, Tommy,” interceded Gerry. “We both know its crap but maybe our perp doesn’t.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“Well, you’re still alive, aren’t you? What more do you want?”

Connell shook his head
. “You always were a funny guy, Gerry.” He turned back to Hamilton. “So suddenly I’m not a suspect, I’m your number one witness.”

“Looks that way.”

“I take it that I’m free to go then …”

Hamilton exchanged a look with Gesting
. “You need to tell us everything you know first.”

Connell raised a brow at Gerry. “Oh yeah, I think we need to have a similar conversation, Gerry. I’m getting that feeling again.”

Smiling, Gerry leaned back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest. “What feeling is that, Tommy?”

“The feeling that I’ve been staked
out with a rope around my ankle so you guys can sit back with a big net.”

“Would I do that?”

“Sure you would, Gerry.”

They stared at each other and Connell considered his options. If he had just had a lucky escape, then he was probably the only person
who could identify the killer, which made him a little too valuable for his own good. The good cops would surely want to keep him close, keep their hands tight on the end of that leash; the killer, well, if he had any sense at all, he would be looking for a way to get back and finish the job. Good old Frankie and the bad boys wouldn’t need to worry about him screwing up their plans anymore. They could just sit back and enjoy the fun.  That would have been bad enough, but Connell had a growing suspicion that little Molly Brown was more involved in this than anyone could guess. That suspicion was beginning to set those bells a tinkling and it wasn’t a melodic sound. Something was very wrong and that little girl held all the answers.

Wilson returned, breaking the awkwar
d silence by throwing a plastic-wrapped shirt at Connell who caught it one-handed. He ripped open the package and shook the plain white shirt free of pins and creases before slipping it on and doing up the buttons. “It’s a little roomy,” smirked Wilson. “You need to work out some, Tommy.”

Connell ignored him. It was far too late to act like they were good buddies now. “I’m outa here,” he said as he grabbed his ja
cket from the back of the chair. “I see any freaks with sharp knives, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“You can’t just walk away. Y
ou have information we need.” Hamilton rose, Wilson stepped to block the door and Connell eyeballed him, giving him the look that said quite clearly he was done playing games.

“You want bait, use Gi
bbons. I do things my way or not at all.” He turned to Gerry. “You coming?”

Gerry shrugged at Hamilton. “Leave it to me. We’ll get back to you.”

“You damn well better. This isn’t a game, Connell. We got eleven dead guys already and it looks like you’re marked as number twelve. You may not like authority, you may have a chip on your shoulder about the way you were treated before, but we need to help each other here, or someone else is going to end up gutted. And, Connell, keep in mind, that it might not necessarily be you. Could you live with that?”

Chapter Eleven

Connell found Marty waiting outside, leaning on the hood of his car. Shoulders slumped, eyes half closed, he’d been hanging around like he’d nothing better to do for some time. He had a worn out look, like a parent who’d just about had it with the kid who wouldn’t learn how to behave.

“Where’s my car?” asked Connell, ignoring the look. He didn’t need to be reminded.

Marty shot him a weary glance, took in his disheveled appearance, damp finger-combed hair and rightly concluded Connell hadn’t waited for Gerry to show up before opening his smart mouth. “In the pound, waiting for you to pay the towing fee.”

“Oh yeah, pay it with what
exactly?” Connell pulled out the linings of his pockets with frustration. He knew he was behaving like a spoilt child but he was pretty much worn out too. Defending his honor to those who preferred to think badly of him was hard work. It gnawed at him but none of it was Marty’s fault.

He cocked his head and
tagged on a crooked smile that would have worked with Lizzie, no matter what he’d done or said, but obviously wasn’t going to do the business with Marty who merely gave a world weary sigh and looked away.

Gerry shifted his gaze from one to the other “Give him a break, Marty. Tommy’s had a rough afternoon.”

“So what’s new?” shrugged Marty, his expression betraying the fact that he’d lost count of the number of rough afternoons Connell had and the number of times he’d been dragged along for the ride.

“A
h, but this was a doozie, Marty,” Gerry grinned and turned back to Connell. “Catch,” he called, throwing Connell’s wallet across the roof of the car. Connell caught it one-handed. He raised a brow, surprised. Gerry always could pull it out the bag. He sent an apologetic look to Marty, before returning his attention to Gerry.

“Hey, how did you manage that? I thought this was evidence.
”

“I have influence
...” replied Gerry.

Oh sure, thought Connell, he had influence when he chose to use it. “Shame you couldn’t have used your inf
luence a little sooner, Gerry. You might have saved me some grief.”

“Hey, if it wasn’t for your best buddy here, I wouldn’t even h
ave turned up. Be nice, Tommy. Say thank you to Marty, and let’s move on.”

Connell smiled.
“Hey, thanks, Marty. What would I do without you?”

Marty nodded his acceptance. “So guys, what’s the story?” he asked and Connell turned and shrugged.

“Ask the big man here. He seems to have all the answers, don’t you, Gerry.” As usual Gerry seemed to know more than he was letting on, and despite Gerry’s attempt at his ‘we’re all in this together’ team talk, his habit of keeping Connell in the dark was starting to grate.

Gerry cocked his head
. “What are you not telling me, Tommy? I realize you weren’t going to say jack shit to Hamilton and his merry crew, but don’t think for one moment you’re going to hold back on me.”

Connell rolled his eyes, shot a
‘who the hell does he think he is’ kind of look at Marty, and opened the car door. “Geez, Gerry, I think you’ve cornered the market on holding back. Just when were you going to tell me I was being tied to a hook and dangled?”

“Hey, guys, I’m still here. Y
ou going to let me in on this?” Marty tried again.

Connell looked at him and
realized of course he hadn’t been privy to the ridiculous accusations or the gory details, and updated him.

Marty visibly paled, running his fingers distractedly through his hair.
“Tommy, I’m being serious here. Honestly, pal, you need to get a real job. If Lizzie knew what went on today, the shit you’re mixed up in, she’d be on the next plane back to Merry Olde England. You can’t be doing this, not to her or yourself.”

“Tell that to him.
I’m just following orders.”

“Since when did you follow orders?”

“It wasn’t exactly like that,” said Gerry.

“Oh yeah, so you didn’t just wind me up and set me off
like some mechanical Robocop?”

“Hard
ly, Tommy. You don’t need me to wind you up. You seem to manage pretty well all by yourself.”

Okay, Connell conceded, so maybe he was right
on that score. He glared at him. He didn’t much like conceding anything, particularly today.

“So, guys,” continued Marty as he pulled himself off the hood
, “you going to tell me what’s going on, what the plan is now?”

“Did you find the kid?” asked Gerry, ignoring Marty and getting straight to the point, as Connell knew he would.

Connell leaned on the roof of the car, rested his chin on his folded arms and studied Gerry over the top of it. He considered his reply carefully. He trusted Gerry, there was no doubt about that, even if at times they pissed each other off some, and Marty, well, he was like a brother. He couldn’t have two better guys on his side, despite the fact they both currently thought he was a liability. But until he had all the pieces in the right order in his head, he wasn’t sure whether he’d be doing them any favors by revealing what he knew, or what he thought he knew.

“Maybe
.” he replied slowly.

“And she’s got something to do with this?”

“Possibly.” He had no real idea, just a feeling. He might have handed in his badge but he’d kept hold of the instincts that went with it.

“What makes you say that?”

Connell shrugged. “To be honest, Gerry, I’m not sure.” He tapped at his head and gave a half-smile. “I’ve got maybe ninety percent of a jigsaw puzzle in here, but until I can find all four corners, I can’t begin to put it all together.”

“I always start with the sky,” offered Marty with a grin.

“Straight edges for me,” said Gerry.

Connell smiled and
relaxed for the first time since he’d come out of the building. “Okay, you want to help? Let’s go get something to eat first or, to hell with the damn serial killer, my innards are going to jump right out of their own accord.”

*  *  *

“Marty, did you get anywhere with the missing parents?” asked Connell when he’d calmed his gut with a pizza. He’d a feeling he’d pay for it later, pepperoni and revenge didn’t mix well, and he was stoking up a decent belly full of the latter. He just needed to take the time to work out the rightful recipient.

Shaking his head, Marty swirled the remnants of his coffee in the bottom of the cup and glanced up.
“Not much. The husband was released from jail six months ago.”

“What for?” Connell caught the eye of the waitress, go
t refills for them all and leaned back in his seat.

“Huh?”

“What was he sent down for?” He glanced across at Gerry who was finishing off some rabbit food. What was the guy doing eating healthy at his age? Maybe he was trying to lose a little weight, attract a lady? Connell smiled to himself and stowed that one away for later.

“Some drunken brawl in a truck stop, fight got outa hand, place got smashed up.”

Connell nodded absently, still stuck on Gerry, wondering what kind of a woman would put up with his predilection for subterfuge. He swung his attention back to Marty. “How long was he inside?”

“He served six months of a twelve month stretch.”

“Okay, so twelve months ago Mr. Brown was kicking off in a truck stop, he serves six months, comes home for four, and then he disappears. What else has been going on in the last twelve months?”

Marty pondered. “Hey, I got a vasectomy
...”

Connell and Gerry both looked at him. “Geez, Marty, you did what?”

“What? Don’t look so shocked. I got six kids already. You think I’m a millionaire? You think my heart can take another round of diapers and two o’clock feedings?”

“Yeah, but, Marty
...” Connell winced. “That’s gotta hurt …” He thought of Spidey and felt even less inclined now to let the vet do the dirty deed on him.

“Well, they don’t exactly use two bricks, Tommy. You know we live in a modern world.”

“What did Charlene say?” Connell was intrigued. Charlene loved kids, lots of kids. He couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been either pregnant or nursing. But yeah, six kids, he could see where Marty was coming from.

“Boys,” interrupted Gerry, “we’re getting sidetracked.”

“Sure thing, Gerry.” Connell resisted the urge to reassure his own parts that they were quite safe from the knife for now, and turned his attention back to the matter in hand. “So, just out of interest, Gerry, and with you being the man in the know, when did our zapper guy first make an appearance?”

“The first murder took place just under three months ago. There’s been one every week since then.”

Connell was shocked. Despite seeing the board, seeing the photos of the mutilated corpses, he hadn’t quite bought into the horror of it or the audacity of this guy who’d managed, by whatever means, to continue to evade identification and capture. Maybe he’d been a little too busy fighting off accusations of his own, but the fact was, this had been going on for three months, been reported widely in the press and on TV and he really knew shit about it.

“This is one clever guy, Gerry. You know that
, don’t you?”

“Or maybe the lid’s just finally blown off him. He could be a normal guy in the street, going about his business, who’s just snapped for whatever reason.”

Connell swept his palms across his jaw line, recognized the need for a shave when he finally found the barber shop, and shook his head slowly. “No, Gerry, I don’t think this guy is your run-of-the-mill nutcase, pissed because he got fired or his girlfriend cheated on him. I think he’s maybe had too many bad days with cops, too many times of being pulled over and hassled, and he’s decided to clean up the police force all by himself, a one man internal affairs division.” He winked broadly at Marty. “Hey, Gerry where were you at eight-thirty last night?”

“Funny guy.
”

“Well
, hey, admit it, he’s saving you some paperwork. You can close the case on Leon Scott for a start.”

“Did you investigate all the dead guys, Gerry?” asked Marty.

Gerry shook his head dismissively.

“Nah, I’d have to check, but there are names on the list I don’t recognize. I’ll check though to see if there’s any
connection between them, but I expect that’s already been covered pretty hard by Hamilton and his team.”

Connell reached across the table, helped himself to a handful of fries from Marty’s abandoned plate and got a pained look from Gerry. Conn
ell grinned. “How come Musgrave was out and about getting gutted. I thought he was serving time,” said Connell when he’d finished chewing.

“He was at an appeal hea
ring, he went to the bathroom and didn’t come out.”

“No kidding.” Connell was impressed. “The guy takes him out in the bathroom at the courthouse? How come I don’t know all about this?”

“Because you live in a godforsaken middle of nowhere place, with no cable, and your car radio is probably tuned to some hokey country music station,” said Marty.

“’You saying
I don’t keep up with current affairs?”

“I’m saying
you keep your head in the sand, and Lizzie and Joe wrapped in cotton wool. But you know, Tommy, bad stuff still happens all around, especially here, and just because you don’t choose to hear about it, doesn’t stop it from happening.”

Connell didn’t
really have a response to that. Marty was right: if he could have kept his family locked safely in a bubble, he would, and whether that was the right thing to do was anybody’s guess. He shrugged and let it pass; now wasn’t the time. “Hey, TV’s bad for kids anyway. Joe’s got better things to do than grow up with square eyes.”

“God help him if he grows up anything like you,” joked, Marty under his breath
. “Two Connells in the same state ...”

“So, Gerry, you’re
going to check out the victims?” asked Connell, choosing to ignore Marty. “While you’re doing that, see if any of them knew our missing Mr. Brown.”

“You don’t think there could be a
connection with our missing ex-con, do you, Tommy?” asked Marty, and Connell shrugged.

“Why would you think Brown was invol
ved?” Gerry shot Connell a look. “What’s the connection.”

“Probably none, but the zapper guy attacked me in Molly’s apartment. He had to be there for a reason.”

“You didn’t mention that before.” Marty shook his head.

“It wasn’t important.”

“It wasn’t important?” Marty’s frustration was evident as he slammed a hand down on the table and the coffee cups jumped. The diners in the next booth tried hard not to look and Marty lowered his voice. “Tommy, I’m not going to tell you again, you gotta settle down and get a normal job, before Lizzie ...”

Connell shot out a hand
, grabbed Marty by the collar and just held him. He was just about done with having his own irresponsibility shoved at him. He leaned across, pressed his face close and when he answered, his voice was little more than a hiss. “Marty, for once in your life, will you just shut the fuck up. I don’t need you or anybody else to tell me that I don’t deserve Lizzie. I already know I don’t, okay? I don’t need you sitting on my shoulder like some fuckin’ Jiminy Cricket telling me what I’m doing wrong, telling me what I already know.”