The Christmas Killer (7 page)

Johnny Cooper needed help. The department had a database of psychiatrists they could call upon. Some were used to counsel cops who had discharged a weapon in the line of duty, or after fatal incidents. Some were called in if guys started drinking or their gambling got out of control. And a few were there for when the cops or the DA needed a quick take on whether a suspect was a nut job, or faking to slide out from under a charge. Jake didn’t know any of the names, and he was too pissed off at Mills to ask him.

Jake went back to the front desk computer. He picked a name at random – Dr Greene – and called the number.

‘Hello, Gail Greene speaking.’

‘Hi, I’m Detective Jake Austin, calling from Littleton PD,’ he began.

‘Hi. How can I help you, Detective Austin?’ Jake liked the music in her voice.

‘We have a man in the station who has confessed to a crime he couldn’t have committed, and I don’t want to just send him back on the streets.’

There was a pause.

‘It’s not uncommon,’ she said. ‘I presume it’s the interstate killing?’

‘How did you know?’ asked Jake.

‘The big ones normally draw them out.’

‘Is there anything we can do? I’d like someone to at least see him,’ said Jake.

‘I’ll be there in …’ Her voice tailed off. Jake could imagine her checking a tastefully expensive watch on a slender wrist. ‘… an hour.’

He went back to the interview room. Cooper sat on the chair where they had left him. He wasn’t crying any more but was subdued.

Jake made a point of not looking at his partner. ‘Can you go out and wait for the psychiatrist?’

Mills took his coffee and walked out without a word.

Jake sat down opposite Cooper again. ‘We can get you help, Johnny. A doctor is coming in to talk to you.’

Cooper blinked and looked up.

‘I need to be stopped. I’m not right in the head.’

‘Don’t worry about it. None of this is your fault; you didn’t do any of those things.’

‘I need to be punished. I fuck dogs.’ He said this in a low voice, and he stared at the table as he spoke. He wouldn’t meet Jake’s eye. ‘I—’

‘It’s all right.’ Jake put a hand on Cooper’s shoulder, who flinched under his touch. Jake wasn’t sure why he felt so much pity for this man. But he did.

It was ten past two when Sara came into Jake’s cubicle waving a fax. ‘Just in,’ she said.

Jake laid the paper on his desk. It was from the phone company, and confirmed that Sonny Malone had got a call at 12.34 a.m. from Marcia Lamb’s mobile and that the call had lasted nine minutes.

Jake nodded at Sara. ‘Thanks,’ he said.

‘There’s a rather cute lady doctor here to see you too.’ She smiled.

Just then Mills looked around the door. ‘Shrink’s here,’ he announced.

‘I heard,’ said Jake.

He was relieved. He’d get Johnny off his hands and then he could get his mind back to the case. He joined Mills and walked towards the front desk. As they approached, a tall woman turned and smiled at them.

‘Wow!’ whispered Mills. ‘Time to slip off the wedding ring.’

Mills had a point. Gail Greene was stunning. About five nine, with long red hair that fell over her shoulders. She could have passed for mid-twenties, though Jake
knew she had to be a decade older at least, based on the length of time she would have spent on her degree, her postgraduate studies and later professional practice until she reached her current status. She walked towards him, although ‘swayed’ would have been more accurate. She moved with the grace of a ballerina – maybe she had studied as a child? Maybe her mom had had her heart set on her daughter going on stage, a wish that had eventually been torpedoed by a move into the medical profession. Her green eyes twinkled with every small movement she made. There was a tiny stud piercing the right side of her nose. He could also see the top of a tattoo peeping out from the neckline of her shirt. Sign of a disreputable past? Maybe part of the rebellion against the demanding mom?

‘Detective Austin?’ she said, extending a hand.

‘Call me Jake.’

‘Gail.’

‘I’m Detective Mills,’ said Mills, pushing himself forward and shaking her hand.

‘Pleased to meet you.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘Where is he?’

Mills led the way back to the interview room. When they got to the door Gail laid a restraining arm on Mills. Instead of going in, she opened the grille and looked in at Cooper. Jake watched her watch him for a few seconds. He was reminded of the cowboys-and-Indians movies of his childhood, where patient Indian scouts waited in the hills, unmoving. Cooper didn’t appear to
notice that he was being observed. Finally Gail closed the grille.

‘Well?’ asked Jake.

‘I’m a psychiatrist, not a psychic.’ She smiled.

‘But you’ve seen it before? This compulsion to confess, it seems to indicate a need to punish himself.’

‘What college did you get your degree from?’ she asked. Jake felt the rebuke and blushed slightly, but her smile softened it. She went on: ‘You guys can go back to work. I’ll look after him,’ she said.

‘Do you want me to come in with you?’ Jake asked.

‘I take my coffee with cream, two sugars. And a chocolate doughnut, if you have it,’ she said.

Mills grinned as she entered the interview room and shut the door firmly behind her. ‘She’s a piece of work,’ he said.

‘Agreed,’ said Jake.

‘The most beautiful woman I have seen outside of a movie,’ said Mills. He grinned again. ‘And I think she likes you.’

‘Then she needs a shrink more than Johnny does.’

He went back to his desk and checked his emails. He had a reply from the ME.

To: Detective J. Austin.

From: Dr V. Zatkin.

Re: Initial report on suspected homicide victim Marcia Lamb.

Detective Austin, got your messages. Initial examination suggests a time of death somewhere between 1 and 3 a.m.
Monday morning. Cause of death is trauma to the head. Initial examination suggests victim had not engaged in sexual activity in the day prior to her death. More in report to follow.

They knew most of this already. Sonny had got the call from Marcia half an hour after midnight, and the hang-up had come well before 1 a.m. Assuming Marcia had been disturbed by her killer, that meant he had killed her fairly quickly, but maybe not immediately. He could have had up to two hours.

The only real news from the ME was that Marcia had not been raped. Jake wasn’t surprised. Sadistic killers were more often motivated by power than sexual lust.

He typed another email to the forensics lab:

From: Detective J. Austin

To: Greater Indianapolis Forensics Unit

Re: Marcia Lamb

Guys, I hate to ask but I need anything on this one quickly. Did she scratch his face? Did you find any DNA? Anything we can use, can you keep me in the loop as you find out, rather than keeping it for the final report?

Thanks

Detective Austin

He didn’t hold out much hope. Forensics hated to be rushed, and Jake anticipated that the killer had
been too organized, too careful, to leave any clues. He probably knew as much about forensics as most cops.

He became aware of a gentle floral scent that he vaguely remembered. Pure Turquoise by Ralph Lauren? He had bought that for Leigh on her last birthday. He turned to see Gail Greene standing behind him, a gentle smile on her face.

‘You forgot my doughnut,’ she said.

‘Sorry. I can get you a coffee,’ he replied.

‘That stuff?’ she said with a smile. ‘No, thank you. You’ll have to owe me one.’ She propped herself against one of the desks. ‘Let me tell you a little about your suspect. I don’t think he killed anybody.’

‘We guessed that.’

‘He has Aquinas syndrome, a compulsion to claim crimes he had nothing to do with. It’s named after—’

‘Thomas Aquinas,’ said Jake.

‘You’re Catholic?’ she asked.

‘My mother is.’ He motioned towards the door of the interview room. ‘Is he going to be OK?’

‘I don’t think he’ll ever be OK.’ She smiled sadly. ‘He’s a deeply damaged individual. Borderline retarded in terms of intelligence. His mother abandoned him, and he drifted in and out of care. I’m having trouble tracking down exact records. But now he’s living in a project, among drug dealers and prostitutes. He’s fallen through the cracks, and he could be very dangerous.’

‘Dangerous enough to murder?’ Johnny had got all
of the details wrong so far, but Jake would still have to look into it.

‘Hmm.’ Gail twisted a lock of her hair in her fingers when she spoke. ‘Typically, people like Johnny are prone to violence and to abnormal expressions of sexuality,’ she went on. ‘For instance, during the interview he exposed himself to me.’

‘You should have called me.’

‘I’m a big girl.’

Jake put his hands up in surrender.

‘He shows some signs of sexual deviance,’ she went on.

‘Paedophile?’

She shook her head and her red hair changed colour in the light from the window. ‘Sufferers from Aquinas syndrome sometimes have predilections towards juveniles, but I don’t think so in Johnny’s case. Necrophilia seems more likely, given his obsession with death and dead people – he showed visible signs of arousal when discussing what he claims he saw.’

Jake groaned. Now they had another suspect, even if a blind man could see he didn’t do it. Procedure was procedure.

‘So, is he capable of having killed Marcia Lamb?’

‘Capable, sure,’ she said, clearly picking up on his tone. ‘But it isn’t exactly an easy pathology to anticipate.’

Jake nodded, unsuccessfully biting back a frustrated sigh. Johnny might not be a murderer, but he could still be a problem.

He would have to be watched.

Colonel Asher’s face was redder than usual. And his shirtsleeves were rolled up – never a good sign. He nodded briefly at Dr Greene, then turned to Jake.

‘Austin, when you have a moment can you come into my office, please? And bring your partner with you.’

‘Duty calls,’ Jake said to Gail. ‘So, what do we do about Johnny?’

‘Our resources are limited. I would love to get him into a residential programme and prescribe him the right meds. But it’s not going to happen. And as you have nothing to hold him on, he falls between the cracks again.’

Jake stood. ‘I’ll get one of the uniforms to process and release him. We’ll give him some money so he gets a good meal tonight.’ He offered his hand. ‘Thanks for coming in.’

She took it. ‘See you around, Detective.’ Her hand held his for a moment longer than he expected. Then she smiled. ‘Remember, you still owe me that coffee.’

She turned and glided out.

Jake turned to Mills. ‘Colonel wants to see us.’

‘I heard,’ said Mills. ‘I’ll follow you in a few minutes. I need a coffee.’

Mills walked a thin enough line without antagonizing the boss, but it wasn’t Jake’s place to say anything. He went into Asher’s office, asking Sara to find someone to release Cooper as he passed.

‘Sit down, Detective,’ said Asher, making a show of speaking in a level voice. ‘Where’s Mills?’

‘He’ll be here in a minute.’

Asher rolled his eyes. ‘Forget him for the moment; it’s you I really need to talk to.’

‘Sir?’

‘I’m running a department here, Detective. We may think of it as a civic service, but we both know this is a business. City Hall budget us, and we produce results for them. We get the stats, the budget grows, and we can use the extra cash to do some real policing.’

It was sad but true.

‘But it works the other way if we don’t come up with the goods.’

Jake nodded.

‘Austin, you’re not giving me results. Why haven’t we charged Sonny Malone?’

‘Because he didn’t kill Marcia Lamb.’

‘Maybe,’ said Asher. ‘Or maybe you’re thinking around corners when this is a straight-line case.’

‘Sir, with all due respect –’ Jake saw Asher bristle at the phony phrase ‘– no DA would ever pursue a case against Sonny Malone. Not without solid forensic
evidence. The most clueless public defender would rip it to shreds. It would be a waste of time and departmental money.’

‘So improve the case – find the evidence to make it stand up.’

Jake offered a single nod of his head:
I hear you, sir
. ‘We’ll keep him in the frame as we investigate, but we need to keep open minds. We can’t exhaust the department’s time and resources on just one lead.’ Jake watched Asher’s eyes, wondering how the punch of the ‘open minds’ insult and the we’re-all-in-this-together nod to ‘the department’ would play.

Mills walked in and placed a coffee mug on the desk, sitting down beside Jake.

‘You wanted to see me, Colonel?’

‘Ten minutes ago.’

‘I’m here now.’

Asher grunted. ‘Do you agree with Detective Austin about Sonny Malone?’ he asked.

‘’Fraid so. He didn’t do it.’

‘Let me get the facts straight,’ said Asher, directing his words at Mills – the apathetic man in the room, more likely to agree with him simply to get out of there quicker. ‘Sonny Malone is a violent criminal on early release. For an aggravated assault charge. He deals drugs. His girlfriend finds out he’s screwing around, and she’s furious. With me so far?’

Mills nodded. Jake didn’t bother. Asher still wasn’t looking at him.

‘So he has motive.’ He counted the points on his fingers. ‘Did he have opportunity? Of course he did. He knew where she would be late last night. He could get there easily enough. I know he has an
alibi
–’ Asher said the word with such disdain, Jake was surprised he didn’t make air-quotes ‘– but the alibi of your girlfriend is hardly cast iron, right?’ Now he turned to Jake. ‘You interviewed this girlfriend?’

‘It’s on our list of priorities,’ said Jake.

Asher gave a grim smile. ‘How high?’

Jake didn’t answer. He could tell Asher wasn’t really looking for one. This little sit-down was more about asserting himself than getting the best out of his men. A trait he probably picked up from the mother who had had him at a very young age, and spent the rest of her life reminding any- and everyone that she had given up a lot for her kids.

Asher leaned forward over his desk. ‘When you talk to the girlfriend, you make sure you hammer at this alibi. Make sure you’ve made the right call.’

Jake bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Asher didn’t say ‘
we’ve
made the right call’; it was ‘
you’ve
’. This went wrong, Asher was going to protect himself before his men.