Serial Separation (23 page)

Chapter 61

Mike Miller arrived at the hospital, flashing his credentials to the Lowell police on guard in the emergency room waiting area. He did not see Gil Pike, so he asked for him. One of the guards said something to another patrolman, who left the area. Mike waited at least five of the longest minutes of his life . . . well, other than when his wife was giving birth.

Gil came running into the waiting area. “We need a doctor now, help . . . help us, please.”

Mike saw the frustrated look on Gil’s face, knowing it wasn’t good news.

“Can I help, Gil?”

Gil took off running through the doors again, followed by a big male nurse. Mike decided in all the confusion to just join in. The PA system was announcing a Code Blue in the ER.

They ran down a small hall, turned, and tried to enter the small exam room. Mike could see a patient with many wires attached. Several people in hospital scrubs surrounded him. There was a flurry of activity. The guy, he could tell, was totally naked, covered in blood from his neck to his groin.

He was convulsing. A blue cart was wheeled in; the ‘all clear’ was sounded, followed by a loud thump. The process was repeated several times. Soon, the only sound in the room was the shrill of one of the monitors. The male nurse turned off the machine on doctor’s orders. They pronounced him dead at 10:10 p.m.

Gil turned and left the room with Mike following.

“What happened, Gil?”

“Mike, we’re sorry. They should never have brought these guys to the same hospital. When Jason’s gang learned this guy was taken here, they found him and used a scalpel to open him up. The guy didn’t have a chance.”

“We have all of them in custody now, but in all of the confusion, treating them . . . well . . . we know now what should have happened.”

“Gil, did he say anything before he was murdered?”

“His words were something like, ‘Jason was going to get what he deserved. He only wished he could help cut him apart, but the women will do him just fine.”

Gil added, “You know, this isn’t going to end. We’re going to have a gang war. There’s going to be blood in the streets of both cities.”

“We may not have anyone left to tell us where they took Jason. Right now, Mike, I’m more worried about the war. I’m going to check on things here and then roll out the troops. Happy fucking New Year!”

* * *

Mike waited for Paddy to arrive. Mike had just returned to the waiting area when Paddy was coming through the front entrance. One look at Mike and Paddy knew it wasn’t good news. “From the look on your face, there’s no good news.”

“No, Paddy. They took the wounded gang members from both gangs here. When some of Jason’s gang learned where the other gang member was . . . well, they dissected him like those frogs in high school. He’s gone, and he didn’t provide any information. He did confirm that women are indeed doing these torso slayings.”

Paddy shook his head. “I just hate to make this call, but I have to alert the AG about what went down and what might happen next. He’ll bring in the State Police for sure now. If we can’t locate where they took Jason, we’ll have the fourth torso slaying. Not counting how many were killed in this shoot-out.”

He looked out into the front of the hospital. “Mike, the press is already setting up outside, so I have to make the AG call right away. What are your plans now?”

“There’s nothing more Paul and I can do here. We’ll head to the task force office and put up there for the night. I just thought about something—Mercedes and Scott are still checking out places. I hope they don’t run into trouble.”

“Wouldn’t that make great press if they wound up getting hurt or worse. I’ll see you when I get to the office—if I still have a role to play,” Paddy said shaking his head.

Mike located Paul, and they headed back to Cambridge. Paul slammed his hand on the dash. “What a way to start the New Year.”

Chapter 62

Their cars were hidden by the side gate to the building. None of the women showed any sign of hesitation regarding what they were about to do—or regret for what was already done.

They had established their routine. All four women gathered in the display area on the second floor, silent in their individual thoughts. They stared at their trophies, reminding them of what they and their families had endured.

She liked the process, maybe even more than the actual revenge. Carole had missed out on her revenge, with the mistaken kidnapping of Jason’s cousin Jeremy. She named the expected Jason delivery ‘Christmas Carole.’ With each passing minute, their stimulation was building, like a pack of wolves anticipating the kill. After three kills, was it revenge, or the kill itself?

She was glad Carole reminded them that this was not a random killing—this was something justified by what Jason and his gang had done to her younger sister.
If the system doesn’t allow justice, they had to wield it,
She thought.

Carole also indicated she was ready to convey his justice but sorry she could do it only once, since her family’s life was hell.

The gang members had taunted her sister, and even Carole. Jason knew exactly how the families would react, how safe their gang was, and would be committing other rapes. Her family didn’t want the publicity of the rape. The police couldn’t do anything, since the families would not press charges.

Carole bellowed, “This weekend, Jason will confess each rape and every rape, or suffer the consequence.”

She thought of the contrast Jason would provide. All the others were white. She wondered if the Calumet gang would be successful, finding and taking Jason from his gang’s protection. Earlier, she communicated that should they bring more than Jason, they would be paid an additional amount for each delivered member. However, they had to be alive.

She was concerned about what condition Jason would be in. They were a scary bunch, but they liked the money way too much to kill Jason before he was delivered.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the now familiar sound of a body being dumped down the coal chute. They immediately rushed into the freight elevator, taking the slow ride to the basement.

It would be mostly a sleepless weekend. Their bodies had, and would, tolerate the lack of sleep, driven by the adrenaline rush provided by the new victim—or victims.

* * *

She recalled their reflection in the display case just before the sound of the body interrupted them.

She was taller than the others, considering herself the most attractive. Her light complexion, ample shape, and red hair made her stand out in a crowd. Bob had commented on her beauty, and she would never forget it.

Jean was an athletic blonde, Sandra a petite brunette, and Carole a black-beauty-pageant queen. Carole’s sister was only fifteen when Jason’s gang raped her. She could see Carole was like a panther ready to leap.

She hoped her ‘other side’ would not interfere with the proceedings. She was out now and planned to stay out for the festivities. She owed her freedom to her good side, but she was getting in the way too much, too often.

She remembered her sister’s confusion, when her ‘other’ would appear. From the time she was committed, her sister had been distant.
I don’t need no sister, and I sure don’t need my other side . . . this is my time.
She could feel her body’s excitement as the elevator reached the basement.

In the limited light, they saw only one limp body. It was a large black man. She had only seen the picture Carole had shown them. When they rolled him over—it was Jason.

Carole quickly grabbed his hands to drag him, but she couldn’t even budge him. They all helped drag him to the elevator. He was out cold. The elevator slowly rose, but Carole quickly dropped on her knees.

She placed her face right in his. “I’ve got you, you son of a bitch! You are going to regret the day you were born. You’re going to regret ever raping Denise—and who knows how many others.”

She watched Carole punch him several times, smiling at her rage. She had felt the same emotion when Bob was on the receiving end. The elevator hadn’t completed its ascent yet, but Carole was already stripping his clothes.

They cheered her on. He was filthy from the coal chute and coal bin. The black of the coal made his body look much lighter. The elevator stopped, and Carole finished stripping him.

He was starting to come to, and she kicked him in the groin. He wasn’t conscious enough to feel the pain. She offered, “Carole, he can’t feel the pain. Give it a few minutes. Wait until he comes around—then you can let him have it.”

They helped drag him across the rough wooden floor to the shower area. Carole put the rope around his feet and tied his hands behind him. They watched as she tied the blindfold around his eyes. She had the pleasure of cranking the winch to hoist him up to the top of the rolling rack.

They all pushed the rack into the shower area. She observed the others watching his body hang upside down. Carole was breathing hard from the effort she had put in—or from the excitement of finally having him.

She could see where Carole was looking and what she was going to do before she actually did it. Carole reached out and grabbed his manhood. “This is never going to penetrate any defenseless girl again.”

She couldn’t see his eyes, but the struggling movement of his body told her he had just come to.

Carole removed her hand, knelt, and whispered in his ear. “Welcome, Jason. Do you remember raping little Denise Daniels? This weekend is for her and all the others you and your filthy gang raped.” She barely saw her hand strike out, but she heard the force of it—and his painful response.

Carole was almost ripping her own clothes off. They knew it was time to join her.

Carole yelled in his ear. “That, Jason, is only the beginning!”

* * *

The cold spray must have increased Jason’s awareness of his plight. He knew now there were several women scrubbing his body with brushes, but it was only Carole’s voice.

They knew he was trying not to utter any sound, but the pain must have been too much. She studied Carole, who was like a wild animal, and wondered if Carole was going to remove his skin in the process.

The cold water must have blocked out some of the pain, numbing his body. The pressure of the hose caused him to spin. They knew his head would be throbbing from hanging upside down.

Carole turned off the hose. The only noise then was the sound of his body turning. She thought Carole would have received enough satisfaction from the punishment to his body, but she whipped the hose against his bare body. She thought she was going to stop, but soon she had to stop her. His screams were too much even for her.

They rolled him through the other large door into the freezer area. Their wet feet stuck to the cold metal floor, making it hard to push him in further. They hopped out, closing the door. She watched their smiles in the reflection on the glass.

Carole was the only one not smiling—she was crying. Within a couple of minutes, his body turned from black, then a shade of white, and finally a hint of blue. He would be frozen to death in a matter of minutes if they didn’t remove him. It was Carole’s call. They waited, then they waited some more. Jason’s body was hanging motionless.

She was cold from the shower. Looking at Jason made her colder.
Was Carole just going to end it like this, or would she—

Carole broke the silence. “Let’s show him the display area now.”

She was glad, but she wondered if he was already frozen. They started to roll him out, each realizing Jason had blacked out, or worse.

Carole spoke up. “Let’s bring him back into the shower and see if he’s still alive.” They changed direction, some pushing on the rack and some pushing on Jason’s nearly frozen body. Carole turned the hose back on him and he slowly came to.

He spoke for the first time. “I’m sooo cold. Jusst git it over with . . . kill meeeeee.”

“No, Jason. This is Denise’s sister, Carole. We’re not going to kill you yet. That’s too good for you. Your gang raped Denise all weekend; my gang is going to make you regret you are a man . . . and it’s going to take us all weekend too.”

“Now that you’re still alive, we’re going to show you your eventual fate. Ladies, let’s roll him to the display area.”

She watched Carole taunting him as they rode the elevator to the second floor. She didn’t ever want to get on her bad side. They had carried their revenge for years. It was obvious Carole was going to let it all out this weekend.

She had to cringe as she watched what Carole was doing. This building was well suited for their mission. No one could hear his screams in this building. She had done her homework well.

They wheeled him off the elevator over to the display cases. Carole winched him down to the floor. The lights were off in the display case when they stood him up. She removed his blindfold. He shook his head as he tried to focus. He would be able to see their naked reflections in the glass, but for only a moment, before they flipped the light switch.

He was shown the first trophy and promptly threw up. They shuffled him to each trophy. Then they showed him the empty area.

Carole whispered to him, “This will be yours!”

Chapter 63

Earlier in the evening, I had brought Mercedes home. She said she was having woman problems—cramps, or something like that. I didn’t press the subject; I just brought her back to her apartment. She looked distant and didn’t say much during the drive.

When we arrived, she said she had my apartment phone number and the number for the task force office. It wasn’t like her not to make a commitment for the balance of our search, but I figured it was just something to do with her problem.

The listings were still in the car, so I decided to head back out to check out some of the remaining. We’d made progress earlier but still had many to do. I commented if we would even know if the building was being used by the killers.

Mercedes said we would know when we saw it.

I drove to the next listing. It was near a popular seafood restaurant. I knew immediately it couldn’t be used for the killings—the location was too busy.

I looked at the listings again. There was a place near
Commercial
Wharf
. I decided to make that my next place to check out. It was about seven when I got there.

The building was an old, brick, two-story building set off by itself on a small pier. There were no windows facing the parking area. I didn’t stop at the building but swung around back from the direction I came.

The listing indicated the building was a two-story, double-occupancy structure. Only one side was available. The other had an active business. There were some things about the listing that drew my attention: access to a pier, boat dock, and storage areas including freezer capability.

I was not sure what that meant.

I looked the listing over, deciding to take a closer look on foot. I walked back to the access drive, noticing a sign at the other end of the building. That meant the side closest to me was the available portion. There were no windows on this side of the building.

There was a high double gate. I could see tire tracks in the snow leading under the gate. There hadn’t been much traffic to speak of, maybe just a showing of the property.

I approached the gate and looked through the opening between the wooden slats. The vehicle tracks were not made by a truck, but maybe a car or small pickup. The area was large enough to accommodate a few cars and protected from view by the fence. There was a lock on the gate, so I decided this was close enough.

When I got back to the car, I looked at the listing again. The listing details noted there were two other similar available listings of the same construction. I didn’t want to spend any more time in this area. I wanted to see if those listings were in our pile.

I tried to start the car, but it wouldn’t start. It must have been that dead spot in my starter. It had been a problem on occasion but had been fine for days. Maybe there had been too much stopping and starting today. Being Friday, I thought I should check in with the task force. I tried to start the car again, but it just made a clicking sound.

The building gave me the creeps, but I didn’t think it was remote enough. My mind went to the murdered men and recalled my naked dream. My heart was beating fast. I looked back at the building but was far enough from it to be out of sight.

I felt the cold for the first time. I closed my eyes, said a quick prayer, and tried turning the key a couple of times. The engine must have heard my prayer because it roared to life. I decided to check out the listings later and headed for the task force office. This was enough for one day. I didn’t recall noticing multiple similar listings like this one in the pile.

Could Mercedes have pulled those listings out of the pile?
I thought.

* * *

The drive to the task force provided adequate time to get my mind over activated. What if Mercedes had purposely left those other listings out? Why did she crap out on visiting the other properties tonight?
Maybe I should mention this to Mike
, I thought. She never answered his question about what she really did weekends, at least not in my presence.

I thought about my stay at the cabin with her.
There’s no way she could have anything to do with these murders. Or, is that why she made me uncomfortable from the start? Should I really mention this to Mike? Maybe I should just see how the weekend goes. Will Jason be kidnapped, or will it be prevented? If Jason is kidnapped, I could call her. If she’s home, she couldn’t be involved.

I was still dealing with the two missing property listings. Maybe Mercedes was never given those listings in the first place. However, the general building description did fit what we were looking for. A more remote location would be a perfect fit.

How can I find those listings? I can’t just ask Mercedes for them. I need to mention this to Mike. Maybe he, or Paddy, can pull some strings to find the property locations.

When I mention this to Mike, he is going to reevaluate Mercedes. I’m closer to her than he is, and I have questions about whether she concealed them. It’s also strange she wanted to be excused from checking out properties tonight. Is there a connection with Friday?

My assessment: she was intelligent and capable of planning a way of kidnapping these men, having a place to torture and kill them, and not be discovered. However, I saw her sensitive side, and her honesty . . . I don’t believe she could kill anyone.

What if she needed to get revenge?
I asked myself. She had said there was a rape in her family. They had all had to deal with it, and it had been, in her words, ‘life changing.’ She had even said she had nightmares about being tied up, naked, molested, and tortured. However, she had not elaborated.

I still find it hard to believe she could kill. She would have acted differently at the cabin. Could Lisa have killed Jimmy if I hadn’t rescued her in time? I would bet my life she could never kill anyone.

Am I betting my life in Mercedes’ case?
I questioned myself.

I believe Mercedes would have told me the details, if I had pressed her. I think she might have even told me the details then if I had asked. And another thing—she had been spot on with her profile of the killers.

If she was one of the killers, she would know the facts. Instead of being a profiler, she could have just listed facts.

I’d have to tell Mike, I thought, and I knew he would pursue getting to the particulars. My stomach was upset just thinking about what he would do, and how she would take it. I felt like I was about to break a confidence.

What if it saves a life?
I asked myself. Wasn’t that why I wanted to be connected with the task force to begin with? To save the lives of people I knew. Was it? I had played in that hockey league. What if my subconscious objective was to save my own life? Is being a friend to Mercedes worth someone’s life?

No, it may be evidence, and someone’s life could depend on it. I have to talk with Mike when I get to the office.

* * *

It was after 11:00 p.m. when I arrived at the task force office. I expected bad news since every light was on in the building. When I opened the door, I could hear loud voices coming from the conference room. I headed back to see what was happening.

The room was crowded; no one was smiling. Everyone was so busy, no one saw me arrive. Mike was talking with Paul.

I walked over to them. “Hi Mike, I’m here.”

He turned. “Oh, Scott, I’m glad to see you.”

His response caught me off guard. I just looked at both of them.

Mike elaborated. “Jason was kidnapped by the Calumet gang. We were concerned you and Mercedes were still looking at properties. Well, we didn’t want you two to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. We speculate the gang is in the process of delivering Jason to the women.”

I could feel my stomach turning. “Mike, I need to discuss something with you—when you have a chance.”

“Things are very busy here. The Lowell police are about to raid Jason’s gang headquarters. One of the kidnapping gang members was taken to the hospital, and Jason’s gang learned he was there, and made a fillet out of him.”

He continued. “We are anticipating a gang war between Jason’s gang and the Calumet gang. There were some gang members killed, and some innocent bystanders wounded during the shoot-out during Jason’s abduction.”

Mike added, “Oh, we also have the Massachusetts and New Hampshire State Police trying to locate Jeremy Johnston, who’s somewhere . . .I’m sorry, Scott . . . if what you have is important?”

I could feel my face flush. “You’ve got your hands full. When you get a chance, we can talk. How do you want me to help?”

“Scott, we are just glad you’re here safely. That’s a load off my mind.” He looked around the conference room. “Where’s Mercedes?”

“Well . . . that is what I need to talk with you about.”

* * *

The task force members were all working feverishly. I just stayed out of their way. I just hoped my making a new pot of coffee helped. I really needed a cup.
Maybe even black, no sugar, I thought, the way Mercedes takes it.
Thinking of her, I was wondering if I should try to call her before I talk with Mike. No, I thought; if she was involved, there will be no answer. She might also avoid answering at this hour.

I thought about what Mike told me when I arrived. I might be able to find out where Jeremy went by either talking with Lisa or Judy.

Oh, no. Lisa. What had I planned to do this evening? Were we supposed to go out? I think not getting much sleep, along with this activity, could be stressing me out. Maybe I have to consider doing something else for a living?

Mike came over. “Scott thanks for being patient. You can see it’s really hectic here. What did you want to tell me?”

“I hope I can remember all of it. First, I might be able to track down Jeremy by talking with either Lisa or Dottie’s girlfriend, Judy. The State Police will most likely find him, and even if I found out where he was going, he would still need to be located.”

I took a deep breath. “The second thing is more complicated.”

He looked like he was not going to rush away any longer. “Really?”

“Mike, this is just speculation, but I need to let you know. Please be patient with me while I ramble.”

He nodded his head, and I continued. “I think I found the type of building used for the murders. Here’s the listing—I checked it out and it would fit the type of facility we’re looking for. But this one is too close to other buildings, and these women would draw too much attention.”

Mike had a confused look.

I quickly continued. “This listing mentions two other similarly designed buildings that are available and not included in the package we received from Mercedes’ father. That’s the question. Why aren’t they in the listing package? Did Mercedes eliminate them, or did someone in her father’s firm miss them, or worse, eliminate them?”

“Where is Mercedes?”

“She wasn’t feeling well earlier tonight, so I returned her to her apartment. My mind’s overactive, its Friday . . . could she be involved? Did she ever give you an answer to what she did weekends?”

“Scott, I’m surprised you’re mentioning all of this. You and Mercedes . . . well, you seemed close.”

“My problem, Mike, is, if she is involved and I don’t mention it, someone else might be killed. One of the buildings referenced in this listing, but missing, might be the listing where the men are being killed. If we found those listings, we might be able to prevent Jason from being killed.”

“Well, Mercedes did sidestep my question about what she really did weekends. She said she did some private tutoring, but, to be honest, I’m with you—I can’t believe she would be involved in these killings. Why would she get involved with the task force?”

But, before I could answer him, he answered it himself. “Well, she would know what we were doing here.”

“Mike, she related something to me . . . well, it was sort of confidential. There was a rape in her family. She has nightmares regarding it. She said it involves being tied up, naked, molested, and tortured. Could that ordeal give her the motivation to seek revenge?”

Neither of us said anything until I added, “I can’t tell you how awful I feel, just telling you—but I had to. My involvement with the task force was to prevent people I knew from being killed. Although I can’t say I liked Jason, I would never forgive myself if I didn’t alert you.”

“Scott, I need to follow up on this.” He got up. “Let me take it from here.”