Played: “Sometimes you never know who is playing who, until the damage is done." (13 page)

JFK says, “Yes, Captain Jackson, we have the tape of Trace’s call to the suicide hotline stating he knew Joshua killed Kimberly. But other than that, it doesn’t tie in anywhere to Joshua, except for the fact Trace was involved with his wife. So I got all her information and sent her home, boss, leaving my schedule open for any further assistance.”

Captain Jackson gestures his approval, saying, “I think I might have something in mind.” He then looks to Officer Smithe, who speaks up directly, stating, “I too have nothing so far on Trace Friesen, other than what we already know. But that being said,” he carries on with confidence, “I do believe it is vital that I continue further in this part of the investigation as I am getting the sense this may be political—that there’s much more to all this than simply Joshua or his dead wife.”

“You think maybe Kimberly found out something?” asks Cools.

Officer Smithe shakes his head, before answering, “Well, it’s too early to speculate, but I do believe it’s important for me to continue.”

“And I think you’re right, Smithe, and that’s exactly where I intend to keep you. You’re gonna stay on the big, big case all right.” Officer Smithe receives his words like a gift. And his obvious expression of gratefulness does not go unobserved by anyone. At once Captain Jackson realizes something of greater importance—the compassion extended to him from everyone in the room, a man they barely know. His team is coming together, which is the age-old key for any successful investigation. A quick smirk then crosses his face as he turns his attention to Officer Jakew. “All right, did you get anything from the Kitty Club?”

“Well, I did talk to some of the girls and—”

“Yeah, I bet you did,” Michelle pipes in. “I bet you did.”

Officer Jakew blushes a bit, then ignoring Michelle’s comment, reports, “I just got some of the same stuff Detective Robertson was talking about. It sounds like she was a very odd, maybe even violent woman. She would make sick and twisted remarks from time to time. Most of the other girls were terrified of her. And unlike the other girls, she didn’t have any real schedule. This seems to have caused some jealousies; from what I get, Kimberly received a lot of special treatment, although no one knows why.”

Next Captain Jackson turns to Milkowski. “What does this all add up to?”

“Maybe a novel by Steven King. But none of this will get you an arrest warrant. Although…”—he holds up a finger—“I do have some good news. I have talked with Judge Cooper, and I think I can get a warrant for Joshua and Kimberly’s records: phone, credit cards, financial statements, properties, and so on.”

“Well, that’s something,” Captain Jackson replies. “So, now here’s the deal, everyone. Joshua should be here shortly; Janice here is gonna interview him.” He pats her on the shoulder. “We’ll be watching and then go from there. Now, Detective Fredo?”

“Yes, Captain Jackson.”

“Get me a full report on the Ra religion. I want to get inside this guy’s head.”

“Yes, I can do that.”

“All right, then unless anyone else has more to add, we should get going.”

“Um…” Officer Jakew asks, “What do you want me to do now?”

“Go back to the Kitty Club. You’re gonna become a VIP there. Someone there knows something, and I need you to keep digging. Stop on your way out and talk to Sheila, in finance; she has a credit card waiting for you with a modest expense account. And try not have too much fun, all right?”

Officer Jakew responds with just a short and sweet okay. But everyone can see the excitement burning in his eyes.

The meeting is dispersed.

Captain Jackson and Janice are seen leaving together, heading back to his office, while Michelle and Cools disappear in the other direction. He, as usual, is in the lead. They move swiftly down a long corridor back to the main lobby. On a hunch, they plan to set a trap.

They find Officer Renny inside his cubicle eating a sub sandwich, the crumbs of which cover his belly. Michelle asks a couple of known questions concerning his earlier interview. Then Cools, appearing to make gossipy small talk, offers the latest of details.

“I want you to know that your help was crucial to our investigation. And we’re going to get him
this
time around.”

“What do you mean, ‘this time’?” Renny asks, taking the bait.

“Well, we’ve learned that years ago Joshua was one of the prime suspects in the disappearance of his high school sweetheart.”

“Really?”

Michelle takes a rushed glance at her watch then declares, “We better get going, Brad.”

The snare is set. Both Cools and Michelle believe the person leaking information to the media will soon be found out.

.

Chapter Seventeen

O
fficer Lonnell, crouching in the corner of his cubicle, opens his phone. Some more fortune has just landed his way.

Rainman: Joshua was prime suspect in murder of his high school sweetheart

Chuck: Are you sure?—where is your information coming from

Rainman: Detective Cools—is that good enough

Chuck: Works for me. Fucking love you man

Lonnell, wanting to swiftly leave the scene of the crime–his cubicle–heads for the break

room. Along the way sees a couple of his co-workers watching something of great interest inside

the booking seargents office. He lingers just outside and hears the announcer’s voice…“Breaking

news here on CNN concerning Joshua Siconolfi, the Seattle resident who allegedly murdered his

wife on a radio broadcast earlier this week. We go live to Andy Warn.”

Andy Warn, an energetic young journalist with spiky hair, reports, “Just minutes ago Joshua was seen leaving his home, driving a red Lotus Elise. He was followed to where we are now—the Seattle Police Department’s downtown precinct. And it appears he has just, seemingly of his own accord, walked inside. Maybe to turn himself in; we don’t know. But what we can report is that Joshua is, as we speak, inside the station, talking with investigators. And a press conference with Captain Jerome Jackson is scheduled for eight o’clock.”

.

Chapter Eighteen

I
nside the interrogation room, Janice waits, nervously fidgeting with her skirt. It’s bad enough she has to interview a psychopath, but she has to do it in front of a full audience—with all of her skeptical coworkers watching, judging from the opposite side of the two-way mirror.

“Relax, Janice; you’re going to do fine,” Cools announces over the speaker. “Just do what we’ve agreed to: let him control the interview; you just keep him talking.”

She adjusts herself, finding a more comfortable position in the plastic chair, replying, “I’m okay; is he here?”

“Yes, he’s coming in now; just stick to the plan,” Cools says again over the speaker, before turning it off and asking the captain, “Are you sure she can do this?”

“Somewhat late for that now, don’t you think?”

Then the door opens, and Joshua strolls in with a pleasant demeanor. Escorting him is an officer, who quickly vanishes, leaving the two all alone. Janice notices he’s dressed casually in designer shorts and a silk dress shirt, as she offers a handshake. It’s a greeting he arrogantly ignores.

Wearing a teasing smile, he takes a seat opposite the metal table from her, lays his keys and cell phone down, and flirtatiously asks, “Well?”

Although she was hoping it wasn’t going to come up again, she knows exactly what he wants. Reluctantly she answers, “Red.”

It’s as though her answer pleases him. He leans over the table, repulsively admiring her shape. Janice finds it incongruous that such a good-looking man could give her such a chill. Pretending it doesn’t faze her, she takes a quick breath and starts in. “You said, ‘I think I did it.’ You think you did what exactly?”

“What do you think I meant, Janice?” he replies impetuously.

“I don’t know. That is why I am asking you, Joshua.”

“You’re telling me that you gave no thought at all as to what
it
meant?” he asks, his voice getting louder.

“Well, some, but—”

“Because
it
could mean many things, Janice—good or bad.
It
could mean ‘I fathered a child,’ or
it
could mean ‘I got the job,’ or
it
could mean ‘I sliced my neighbors’ dog’s fucking throat because it barked all time’!” As he says this, he mimics the deed, fracturing any steadiness she may have had into shards of absolute panic. And her distress is not so much as to what he’s said, rather more from the speed of his transformation, the instantaneous altering from relatively polite and cordial to pure savagery, his eyes even changing color, from sea-green to pure evil.

She doesn’t respond, not sure of what is coming next. Neither of them moves a muscle. Their eyes remain locked as Janice secretly prays for the moment to end. Cools stands on alert behind the mirror. Then Joshua breaks the sharp silence and, in a more formal tone, states, “Or maybe
it
is how I wish for death.”

Janice, not even sure that makes any sense, clears her throat and asks, “Do you…do you have a death wish?”

He carelessly examines his fingernails. “I am concerned more with
how
I die, rather than
when
. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” she replies, now with a wish of her own—that she could answer no.

“Well, hypothetically speaking, what if your situation is that you have to die, but you can choose the manner in which you do. What would you choose?”

Janice considers his query for a second, then replies, “I would like to go peacefully in my sleep.”

He stares into her, his eyes once again evolving. They both know what is next; he will convey to her all his ill desires. He will enjoy the telling, and she will be sickened. Cools, Michelle, Captain Jackson, and the others stand behind the glass, powerless. Then it arrives. “I wish to slowly burn alive…somewhat painlessly though. I would love to watch the flames lick around my body, an orange blaze dancing and consuming me as I return as smoke to Ra, relieving my soul from the thing inside that hates me—being baptized in fire!”

“That’s real nice, Joshua,” she replies curtly, becoming increasingly impatient with his foolish madness. “Now what did you mean when you said, ‘I think I did it’?” He doesn’t answer, just gives her a long tainted smile, perversely searching her up and down. “Okay, if you cannot answer the question, maybe we can try another one. What was behind your motivation for calling the radio station last week?”

“Ha-ha. I was bored. And it was quite amusing, don’t you think?”

“No, no, it wasn’t, Joshua,” she says, trying to let him know just how unamusing she believed it to be. Her apparent disapproval doesn’t seem to affect him in the slightest.

Then teasingly he begins to school her on her interrogation tactics. “You are not supposed to oppose me Janice; remember what they taught you in cop class? The first part of any interrogation is to establish trust and form a bond between you and your interrogatee.” Again his mood begins to swing into hostility as if every word he utters enrages him more. “You are to be in control of the situation while giving a false sense to the subject that they are in command.”

“Maybe that is what I am doing.”

But he disagrees; he evenly and abruptly rises to his feet, leaning over the table, over her and cries out, “No, I do not think so! I am in control!”

Everything freezes; Janice is imprisoned in her chair while Joshua stands, hovering, showing what is within him, drifting closer. Cools, behind the glass, has his gun drawn, envisioning a 9 mm round piercing the mirror, shattering the glass, penetrating Joshua’s forehead, bringing an end to him. Touch her; I dare you! But no one moves. Cools’s trigger finger tenses rigidly. And a long frightening calm before an apparent storm holds steadfastly as Joshua fearlessly clenches in his stance, everything hinging on what he does next.

Control is his.

Janice fights the tight grip paralyzing her and springs into an attack. “Okay, that’s about it! Let’s quit playing games; I want to know where Kimberly is.”

Cools lowers his gun, saying, “It’s about fucking time.”

Joshua lets out a muffled laugh and sits back down, savoring his actions.

“Tell me where she is! What have you done with her?”

“Okay, Janice, we can play, but I can only enlighten you as to where she told me she was off to, which doesn’t mean much; she was a lying whore, you know. She told me she was going to take the trip we’ve been planning for months now, but that she was going it alone.”

“Trip to where?”

“To the mountains of Peru; the local priests there practice a ritual using an ancient brew, ayahuasca, that…well, when ingested, you can see and talk with Ra.”

“A hallucinogen?” she asks, finally steadying her nerves.

“Yes.”

“And who is Ra?”

“Ra is God!” he answers, without elaboration.

“So tell me, when was the last time you saw her then?”

“She left the day after I called the radio station.”

“Are you certain it was the day after?” she asks, taking notes.

“Yes, Janice, and now I am all alone.” He blatantly looks at her breasts.

Janice moves forward to hide herself behind the table. “Have you had any contact with her since she left?”

“No, I have not. And now I would like to ask you some questions. I only think it is fair, don’t you?”

Janice doesn’t want to begin playing his games again but hasn’t any real choice. Her face shows hesitant agreement, and Joshua wastes no time.

“Do you have something inside that hates you? Kimberly did.”

Michelle looks at Cools and says, “Here we freaking go again. Sick bastard!”

Janice feels her stomach acids begin to rise in her throat and suddenly decides she’s done fooling around. “Actually, now that I think it over, I believe that
I
will be the only one asking questions from here on out!”

“Yeah, that’s my girl,” Michelle says.

“Now, Joshua, will you provide some proof to corroborate your story, like showing us the purchase order of your plane tickets to Peru?” Defiant of her newfound authority, he simply glares at her, mouthing the words
fuck you
. Janice loses her sensibilities and attacks, “Okay, maybe you
are
a coward. And how long has your wife Kimberly been having sex with Trace Friesen?”