Authors: Rayven T. Hill
Web of Justice (12 page)
The sturdy vehicle had held together, but now lay on its side, the front severely damaged. Izzy crouched down and looked through the bulletproof windshield. One of the officers struggled to open the door. The other one lay still, blood trickling from a wound in his head.
It was time to get out of there before help arrived. He’d been given a second chance, and he was determined to make the best of it.
Wednesday, 6:00 p.m.
JAKE SAT ON THE couch in the living room, leaning forward, his mouth wide open. He stared at the TV screen, unable to believe what he was seeing and hearing.
He glanced over at Annie, curled up in her favorite chair, studying a book on crime prevention. She swung her feet to the floor and dropped the book into her lap, her wide-eyed attention now on the same unbelievable story.
According to the report, a custom-designed transport vehicle had been carrying a handful of prisoners to East Detention Center when an explosion occurred. It was determined to have been caused by a grenade or similar device tossed in front of the vehicle as it slowed for a curve. The TV screen showed the vehicle on its side surrounded by police cars, their red and blue lights flashing.
Officers and investigators milled about taking photos and examining the scene. A siren sounded in the background, its scream lessening until finally silenced.
The newscaster continued, his report stating two prisoners had escaped. One was identified as a long-sought-after drug lord, Victor Salaz. A deep undercover operation had resulted in his capture along with several of his underlings two days before. The second fugitive was a suspected murderer named Isaiah Wilde who had been apprehended earlier that day.
Two other prisoners had remained secure. The newscaster stated the police were unsure at this point whether or not the successful attack had been carried out for the express purpose of freeing one or both prisoners. He warned the public that whatever the case, two dangerous fugitives were on the loose.
“It’s obvious the intent was to free the drug lord,” Jake said, disgust in his voice. “No one would go out of their way to free Wilde. I doubt he has a friend in the world. He just got lucky.”
Annie didn’t appear to hear the comment, her eyes still glued to the television.
The report continued, stating the two officers transporting the prisoners had been taken to the hospital. One had suffered minor injuries, and it was expected he’d be released shortly. The other had sustained head injuries, and it was unclear at this point what the extent of those injuries was. Neither officer was available for comment.
Photos of both escapees appeared on the screen. The voiceover of a police spokesman announced that a manhunt for the prisoners was being organized. All available officers, along with tracking dogs, would be used. He urged members of the public to report sightings of either fugitive to the police at once.
Annie finally found her voice. “We’ve got to do something.”
“He could be anywhere. If he’s with the other escapee and his pals, they might shelter him. At least for the time being.”
Annie shook her head. “Why would they care about him? They might’ve given him a lift, but I suspect they would soon dump him. They’re professionals, and he’s too unstable.” She paused and sat back. “I’m sure he’s on his own again.”
“So we’re back to the same unanswerable question. With no friends that we know of, where’ll he go, and how’ll he get there?”
“And will he find another victim?” Annie said, her face masked with concern.
Jake wondered the same thing. With Wilde being unpredictable and somewhat vindictive, was his own family in danger? It was doubtful Wilde would do anything so obvious, especially now with the reality of prison life impressed on him, but Jake wasn’t going to take any chances.
And surely Hank had already contacted Lindy Metz and her parents, warning them to be cautious in case the killer decided to seek revenge.
When the office phone rang, Jake looked at Annie. She sat unmoving and seemed not to hear it. Jake went to the office and picked up the receiver.
“Lincoln Investigations. Jake speaking.”
“Too bad all your hard work ended up nothing.” It was the voice of Izzy Wilde, and he spoke slowly, a mocking tone to his words.
Jake’s body tensed. He took a sharp breath and held it a moment, uncertain what to say. “It’s not over yet,” he said at last.
“You’re right about that. It’s just beginning. But it’ll be over soon.”
Jake motioned frantically to Annie from the office door. She cocked her head, then stood and came toward him.
Jake covered the receiver with one hand, lowered it, and spoke in a loud whisper. “It’s Izzy Wilde.”
Annie stopped mid-stride and widened her eyes.
“Where are you?” Jake said into the phone, not expecting an answer.
Wilde replied with a burst of laughter.
“Are you at your brother’s?” Jake asked. Another useless question, but he was at a loss for words.
More laughter, then Wilde said in a flat voice, “Carter ain’t gonna help me. You know better than that. I was counting on him, and he didn’t even find me a lawyer.”
“You’re gonna need a lot more than a lawyer,” Jake said through gritted teeth.
“You’ll never even get close this time. My friends were good enough to release me, and believe me, I’ve got some powerful friends.”
“Why’re you calling me?” Jake asked.
“Just a warning is all.”
Jake frowned. “What kind of warning?”
“To leave me be. I’m doing what I have to, and I’ll do it as long as I need to.”
“To what end?”
“To stop them wicked women who surround me and taunt me.” Wilde’s voice rose in pitch, and he spoke rapidly, taking short quick breaths. “Traitorous unfaithful leeches. I gotta put a stop to their lies and deceit.” He was panting now. “I’ll make them leave me alone.”
Jake spoke in a calm, soothing voice. “Why now? Why after all these years?”
Wilde screamed. “Because she’s back.” Jake lowered the phone as the manic voice continued. “She’s back and I gotta stop her!”
When the screeching voice stopped, Jake raised the phone to his ear. “Who’s back?”
“Evil is.” Wilde clenched his teeth. “I gotta stop it.”
The line went dead.
Jake hung up the phone and turned to a speechless Annie. “He’s nuts.”
Annie nodded. “And volatile. There’s no telling what he might do next.”
“He mentioned his friends,” Jake said. “Some powerful friends he’s with.”
Annie shook her head adamantly. “He’s lying to throw you off. The intent of the hijacking wasn’t to release him.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“I’m right,” Annie said. “Like I mentioned before, they’d sooner shoot him than put up with him.”
Jake sat in the swivel chair behind the desk, leaned back, and sat still a moment, staring out the window. Finally, he said, “One thing I noticed during the phone call. When Izzy’s calm, he appears to think and talk rationally. At least to some degree. But when his emotions take over, whether it’s fear, or maybe anger, then he gets out of control.”
Some time ago, Jake had made sure all conversations on the business line were recorded. It had come in handy in prior cases, and now he hoped his conversation with Izzy Wilde would be helpful in tracking the maniac down again.
He spun the chair around, fiddled with a few buttons, and managed to transfer the brief dialogue onto a flash drive. The call had shown up as an unknown number, so it was likely a dead end, but he’d get the drive to Hank ASAP, and Callaway would extract anything useful from it. If there was anything useful.
He tucked the drive into his shirt pocket and stood. “I’m sure Hank’s aware of Wilde’s escape. I’ll see if I can get ahold of him.” He removed his cell phone from his belt and touched speed dial.
“Detective Hank Corning.”
Jake filled Hank in on the call with as few words as possible and hung up. “Hank said he’ll send an officer to pick up the recording right away.”
Annie sat in the guest chair, her hands in her lap. Her face showed signs of worry and apprehension. “What about his warning? Do you think it was a direct threat aimed at us?”
Jake’s brow wrinkled in thought, and he shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so. If he’s in a rational mood, he won’t come close to us. But nonetheless, I’d sooner err on the side of caution. There’s no telling what might set him off.”
Annie tugged at her bottom lip a moment. “I’ll have to give this a lot of thought. Sometimes I can put myself in their head and figure out what they might do, but in this case, I can’t even imagine what’s in his warped mind.”
“I know one thing that’s in his mind,” Jake said. “He plans to kill again, and we need to figure out who, how, and where.”
Wednesday, 7:11 p.m.
HANK SAT AT HIS DESK with his head back and his eyes closed, attempting to formulate an immediate plan. He was frustrated, now faced with redoing a task that had already been brought to a successful conclusion.
Four hours ago, he had contacted Lindy Metz and her parents with the good news of Izzy Wilde’s capture. When he’d received the disturbing report of Wilde’s escape, he had arranged for a security detail to safeguard the Metz family.
It seemed like the entire precinct had swung into action. All available officers had spent the last couple of hours combing the area of the escape in an attempt to track down both fugitives. The K-9 unit had been deployed, and a citywide search had commenced and would continue until the escapees were back in custody.
The madman was on foot, but for how long? Though Wilde didn’t seem to be especially cautious, he was resourceful, and he’d no doubt round up some form of transportation before long. There was a chance he might bring his last vehicle back into use. The hunt continued for the gray sedan, but unless it’d been abandoned in a public location, finding it seemed like a long shot.
An officer had picked up the recording from the Lincolns, and Hank had listened to it several times. It was now in the hands of Callaway, and the whiz would analyze it in detail. If there was anything to be found that might lead to the whereabouts of the fugitive, Callaway would find it.
A trace on the call had turned up negative; Wilde had used a burner phone. Exactly where the phone had been purchased, Hank didn’t know, but all retailers in the area would be alerted in case Wilde was in the market for another phone.
Hank feared Izzy Wilde might be true to his word and resume his unpredictable murder spree. His phone call pointed in that direction, and the killer seemed eager to get underway at once. The sad fact was, though the city had been exposed to the news of the fugitives on the run, there were always those who paid very little attention. For many, it didn’t affect their lives, and they would never consider themselves at risk.
But Izzy was crazy, and Hank faced the problem of anticipating the volatile killer’s next move.
He opened his eyes as Detective King wandered over and dropped into a chair opposite Hank. “We’ve had no luck on the search yet,” King said. “I talked to the drug unit, and they’re optimistic about finding their guy. They’re familiar with all his known associates.” He shook his head. “But Wilde has no associates.”
“Just his brother,” Hank said.
“You think he’s gonna contact his brother?”
Hank shrugged. “You got a better idea?”
“Nope,” King said with a yawn. “I got nothin’.”
Hank wasn’t surprised. Though King came up with something helpful on occasion, more often than not, he was content to follow Hank’s lead. “I think we should pay him a visit.”
“Carter Wilde?”
Hank nodded and stood. “I know he’s reluctant to turn his brother in, but I think we can get him to help us in case Izzy contacts him. We have to prepare for any and all possibilities.”
“What about a warrant? Force him to comply?”
“We don’t have the time, and even if we did, a warrant won’t guarantee his cooperation. It could just make him resistant.”
King removed his cap, finger-combed his hair back, and dropped his cap back on. He shrugged a shoulder, stood, and motioned toward the front doors. “I’m right behind you.”
Hank led the way from the building and they got into the Chevy. In a few minutes, they pulled into the parking lot of Carter Wilde’s apartment building on Red Ridge Street. According to Carter’s file, he drove a dark blue 2002 Subaru. Hank was pleased to see it was parked in its reserved spot not far from the front door.
He drove up and down the rows of vehicles, looking for a gray sedan. There were two. He called in the plate numbers, then, satisfied the owners lived in the apartment building, he parked in a visitors’ slot behind.
The two cops walked to the front of the building and entered the lobby, and Hank pressed 101 on the panel. Carter didn’t seem surprised to hear from them, and he buzzed open the security lock at once. He stood in the doorway of his apartment, watching as the cops crossed the main lobby.
Carter had a somber look on his face, and he tightened his lips and shook his head slowly. “I heard the news,” he said as they approached. He stepped aside and waved the cops into his apartment. “I was apprehensive at first, but I must say, I was surprisingly relieved when I heard Izzy had been caught.” He sighed. “I’ve had some time to do some soul-searching, and I need to face reality. He might be my brother, but I realize now how dangerous he is.”
The detectives went into the living room and took a seat on the couch. Carter worked his cane, making his way to his easy chair. He settled into it and exhaled a long breath. “I know why you’re here,” he said. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.” He paused and narrowed his eyes. “On one condition.”
“What’s the condition?” Hank asked.
Carter looked down a moment, massaged his game leg thoughtfully, then raised his head. “My brother has always been a little … odd. He needs help. I want you to promise he’ll get some help and you won’t lock him away somewhere.” He paused and looked at Hank earnestly. “He’s my brother. I care about him.”
