Undead L.A. 1 (9 page)

He's got career cop written all over his smug face.

It was obvious he wanted more than to fetch coffee and canvass neighborhoods of murder scenes taking statements. It was also becoming increasingly clear that he wanted some glory for himself, wanted to step out of Gary's shadow and make some moves of his own. It didn't matter that Gary had put in almost a decade on the job, that he'd earned his place on the unit the old fashioned way, or that he could teach Arnold more in six months than Arnold could learn in a lifetime working for Team Blue on his own. Arnold was itching to be his own man, to see his name in the paper – even if it meant stepping on his own partner or their investigation to do it. He could sense a head-on collision coming at him now. It was just a matter of time.

When this is over you better put in a transfer request for him,
Gary told himself.
It's important to trust your partner. You can't have him second-guessing your every move. They should never have started him out in Homicide. A little time in Canoga Park chasing down vatos with bench warrants would clear his cocky attitude right up.

“
Don't you worry about it,” he barked back. “Just make sure the warrant is typed up and ready to go. Judge Reinhart will back me on this for sure, once we've got something on tape. I wanna be ready to roll the minute the warrant is in hand.”

“
Whatever you say,” Arnold replied, shaking his head as he walked away.

Gary closed his folder and took a deep breath. He exhaled and put his hand on the doorknob, turning it and walking back into the room. Randy hadn't moved an inch. He sat patiently waiting in the same position as when he'd first come in. Gary took a seat across from him and set the folder down on the table.

“Gee, Officer, you were gone a really long time. You know, I have someone waiting on me. Is this going to take much longer?”

“
Detective.”

“
Excuse me?”

“
You referred to me as an officer, but you are mistaken. I am a detective, third class.”

“
My mistake,” Randy said, looking up at last, “Detective.”

“
Let's get started then.” Gary didn't move a muscle. He just sat with his hands on the table, the folder between them. Randy smiled.

“
Where should we start?”

“
I wanted to get your statement again from the beginning,” Gary said. “Do you mind if I record this?”

He reached into his pocket and brought out a tape recorder, setting it on the table.

“Why do you need to record it?”

“
I'm not as young as I used to be,” Gary said, playing up his partners taunt. “My memory is starting to go as I get older and I'd hate to miss something important; something that could help us catch Bonnie's killer.”

“
I see,” Randy said, looking toward the two-way glass. There was perspiration beading on his brow. The room was really starting to heat up, but Randy showed no signs of discomfort. “What about the video and sound recording you are making out there? Wouldn't that help jog your memory?”

Gary shook his head and lightly chuckled, trying to play it off.

“Hard to teach an old dog new tricks I guess,” he said.

“
I'm not sure you need any more tricks Detective Wendell,” Randy said. “You seem to be pretty well covered in that department.”

“
Let's just stick to your interview,” Gary said, trying to regain control. “I need you to sign this form for me before we begin. It just lets us know that you are willing to help out and that you are aware of your rights.”

Gary flipped open the folder and took the form off the top, allowing Randy to see some of the file inside. He casually glanced down and then smirked again, as if he was pleased with himself. Gary slid the form to his side and then handed him a pen. Randy did not make a move to take it.

“You didn't really ask me down here to go over the details we discussed at my apartment, did you?”

“
As a matter of fact, I did. I think you can help me find out what happened to that young girl.”

“
You cops are all the same,” Randy said, sitting back and somehow relaxing even more. “You go digging into things that you shouldn't, things that are better left buried, and then you think you know all the answers.”

“
If I did go digging into your past, Randy, what might I discover?”

“
You know exactly what happened to me as a kid; don't you, Detective?”

Randy's expression was still calm, but a smoldering hatred began to burn in his dark eyes.

“If you mean the abuse you suffered at the hands of your foster parent, and how it might have played a role in how you've turned out, then I guess you're right. Why don't you tell me about it?”

“
You think you know what makes me tick. Well, you are wrong. You can't even see the real me. None of you can. All you see is this outer shell. Underneath is something you can't even begin to comprehend. You can sense it, but your primitive mind can't do more than poke at it with a stick. You're like a monkey trying to understand particle physics. You're a joke.”

“
I get it,” Gary said, mimicking his posture in a last ditch attempt to gain some rapport by mirroring his suspects posture and matching his cadence. He'd read about the technique in a book by Tony Robbins, then later studied NLP books that his buddy at the FBI recommended. Like the Air Conditioning Trick, it seldom worked; but Gary was convinced that the flaw was in him not in the science.

“
Nobody can see you like they see you. Is that it? It takes the eyes of a child to see what you are. Something like that. Is that why you pick them? Or does it have something to do with your foster sister, Beth?”

“
Leave Beth out of it,” Randy snapped. For a moment he lost all composure, his mood shifting to savage darkness like angry storm clouds suddenly forming in a clear summer sky. Just as quickly as it came the fury passed, and Randy put his mask back on. “She doesn't deserve to be talked about that way is all.”

Gary smiled. He'd struck a nerve, just as he’d intended, and made Randy drop his guard, showing his real self.

I knew it was there all along. That's the face the girls see before they die – the face of a killer.

“
Mitzi mentioned that you were very protective of her,” Gary said. “She said you spent a lot of time together. I think that's where this all started. Correct me if I am wrong.”

“
If you are suggesting that I had anything to do with the death of my student, Bonnie, then yes, you are wrong.”

“
I'm trying to help you,” Gary said as he calmly flipped the file open again and began taking out pictures of dead girls. He set them on the table in front of him, but Randy wouldn't look at them. Instead he continued to glare at Gary, as if he could kill him just by looking hard enough.

It's a dance
, Gary thought.
Or better yet, it's like a game of chess only in the end the stakes are much higher.

“
Six dead girls, all sharing very similar backgrounds and suffering terrible fates, all in some way traceable to you. We've got you. It's
game over
, Randall. I know you think you're very smart but look – you can't fight what we've got on you. A witness has come forward that saw you moving Bonnie's body in the early hours of the morning. One of the neighbors can put you at the scene of the crime with the dead girl. It's not time to play any more games; it's time to make a deal. Otherwise you're going to be looking at twenty-five years of appeals, and then the needle. You wanna show me how smart you are? You can start by playing along.”

“
I'd like to speak to my lawyer now,” Randy calmly replied.

“
You sure about that? Once you lawyer up, all bets are off. You'll be arrested and charged with the premeditated murder of six girls. The DA will definitely go for the death penalty in a high profile case like this. You know that, right? All he needs is to link you to one of the girls – to Bonnie – and he will get it. I'm offering you a chance at leniency. Cooperate with me now and you'll do life without parole. You'll be a celebrity killer with a movie of the week deal and a book. They'll send people to study you and write articles in every newspaper in the world. That's what you really want, isn't it? To be famous for your crimes?”

Randy laughed in Gary's face.

“What's so funny?”

“
Everything,” Randy said, relaxing now and grinning at Gary. “Your whole approach just reeks of desperation. First of all I didn't kill any of those girls, but even if I did I wouldn't just walk in here and admit it to you. Why would I go to all the work of covering up my crimes only to just spill the beans at the first sign of trouble? You obviously don't think much of my intelligence or of me. That's been clear from the moment we met. But you honestly can't think I'm dumb enough to fall for these cheap theatrics.”

“
You think it's funny now, but you won't be laughing when you're sitting on Death Row surrounded by animals even scarier than you,” Gary somberly replied. “This is your one last chance at spending the rest of your life in a cage instead of being put down like an animal. It's better than you deserve and it's got an expiration date so I suggest you take it seriously, kid.”

“
I know my rights,” Randy said, still smiling. “I'd like my lawyer now.”

Gary shook his head.

“Okay,” he said. “It's your call.”

“
You'll find him waiting for me out in the lobby, where the air conditioning still works. I told you someone was waiting for me.”

“
And I told you we have a witness,” Gary said. “So I hope your lawyer is damn good.”

“
Don't you worry,” Randy said. “He's the best. They call him ‘Mr. Rainy Day.’”

Gary wasn't done playing his hand just yet. He was still stalling. He stood up and moved toward the door, then turned back to Randy who was now pouring over the crime scene photos with an unabashed look of pride on his face.

“Why did you pose them like that?”

Randy looked up into Gary's eyes, but didn't answer.

“If all these girls are based on Beth, why did you feel the need to humiliate them even after they were dead? I'm serious. I just want to understand, is all.”

Randy laced his fingers together in front of him.

“Murder’s not art unless there is someone there to see it,” Randy replied at last. “I suppose that's what the killer was thinking when he put them on display, when he transformed them and made them whole again, and pure.”

Gary walked back over and sat down again.

This is it
, he thought.
This is what I've been waiting for. Any second now his arrogance will cause him to make an obvious mistake, and then I've got him!

“
So in the end it's all about having an audience? It's not enough that you strip away every last ounce of their humanity; you need to let the whole world see it as well?”

“
You're mistaken, Detective. It's not about degrading them from what I can see. It's about something far greater. These girls could only experience very limited lives. They would never have gotten married. They would never have families of their own. They would never be productive members of society. Just the opposite. They were a burden on everyone around them from the moment they were born until the moment they died. Their very bodies were a prison that kept them trapped just like their weak, fragile minds. Their only redeeming value was their pure innocence, but no one could see that past the glaring corruption of their genetically inferior form.”

Gary fought his urge to push him into saying more. He felt like he was sitting on a live wire as he held his breath, waiting for Randy to continue.

“They've had all the weakness drained from them, washed away. No one who witnesses them can deny they've been set free, immortalized in death like a timeless work of art. They are beyond us all now, safe and unable to experience pain ever again. They are a witness to the darkness of man's inhumanity, as well as the revelation of his ultimate salvation.”

Randy stared off into the distance, lost in memory, reliving his kills. When it was clear he'd finished explaining his motivation, Gary pressed him for more.

“So you see yourself as a kind of artist? Like Michelangelo? Only instead of paint and a brush you use torture and rape? Is that it?”

“
I told you, Detective,” Randy said, a look of smug satisfaction on his face again. “I didn't have anything to do with their deaths. You asked me my opinion and I offered it to you. Nothing more.”

“
How are you able to see so clearly into the mind of this killer when the rest of us can't? I really want to understand.”

“
I don't know,” Randy admitted. “Maybe it has something to do with my childhood after all, Detective. Maybe all that forced sex and all those beatings helped me see something the rest of you can't begin to fathom. I wasn't raised in a privileged manner like you, in a home by a mother and father who catered to my every desire and told me how special and loved I was. Instead, I was raised by monsters, thrown out like garbage, unwanted and unloved.”