An Apple for Zoë ~ The Forsaken (16 page)

" Death To Pigs."
 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 
Death To Pigs

"So
this
is the guy who's put this city on its head for the last 24 hours?" asked Captain Debra Shelton as she stood between Inspector James and Agent Summers. The three of them looked through the two- way glass into Interrogation Room 1. Handcuffed to a steel chair was their attacker from the hospital. His face had been bandaged. It covered the space where his nose once was. A guard stood inside the stale colorless room watching him closely as the department's psych doctor tried to talk to him.
 

"I don't know Cap, doesn't feel right to me," said James.

"Me either," chimed in Summers.

"Well one thing is for sure. He killed that nurse. Did you see the word he carved into her stomach?" asked Captain Shelton. James and Summers shook their heads no in unison.

"There was so much blood. I thought he just cut her throat," responded James. Summers curiosity got the better of her as she couldn't help but pursue the answer. "What was the word?"

"He carved the word
'War'
into her stomach," the captain sighed.

Upon hearing that, Summers shook all over and the hairs on her arms stood at attention.

"Jesus, just like Leno LaBianca," she whispered.

"And you saw the words written in blood on my hospital door, not to mention what this asshole cut into his own chest," said James shaking his head.

"Awful lot of references to Charlie and The Family isn't it," said the captain.
 

"You think this guy is one of The Family, Captain Shelton?" asked Summers.

"Sure would explain a lot. But what do I know? I'm just a crazy okie girl with shoes on," Shelton replied.

"Have they been able to get any kind of identification from him?" asked James.

 
"Not so far, he used that straight razor on his fingers too, as if to spite us," said Shelton with a wearisome sigh. She then continued. "Tommy I know you're exhausted and got more on your plate than you can chew, but I'm thinking you and Miss Summers better get to talking to this guy fast before his public defender shows up and starts crying foul."

 
"You got it, Cap," answered James.

"I want you two and Rivera in my office right after," she said as she calmly headed up the stairs. She didn't wait for an answer and James didn't really need to give her one. They had a good, long-standing working relationship. James had always admired Captain Shelton. She was a large woman and every pound of her was compassionate and understanding. But she was not someone you questioned when things got serious. He knew she had a hard life growing up in Stockton, California. Or as she commonly liked to refer to it as "Hell's Half Acre." But you would never know it from talking with her. She never grumbled or complained about anything. She took each day as it came whether it was good or bad.
 

"She has a lot of respect for you, Inspector," commented Summers.

"Yeah, she's a good woman. She's someone I would take a bullet for any day," he replied.

"Wow, that's saying quite a lot about someone. I can't think of anyone I would do that for back at the bureau."

"Anyone who puts their life before kids is tops in my book," said James.

"Captain Shelton? What happened?"

*

James quietly started to tell Summers the Captain's story, "She would kick my ass for telling you this. But I tell it to anyone who ever doubts why we do what we do. Captain Shelton—or Deb as she was known back in 1988—was working for San Joaquin County Sheriff's Department. Like all the rest of us who choose law enforcement as a living, she was working her way up from the streets into the detective division. Well in October of that same year, a former security guard and drug addict who worked as a part-time janitor at a local school decided to just start shooting children."

Summers gave James a look of shock followed by a look of recognition. "Wait wasn't that the Cleveland School shooting, Stockton, California?"

James nodded yes. Summers remembered the story.
 

"Yeah we studied that case at Quantico. It made national headlines."

"Exactly, and Captain Shelton was first officer on the scene. When she arrived it was like a war zone. He had already killed several children and teachers and had gone back to his station wagon to reload. He had brought two machine guns, several handguns and grenades. Captain Shelton saw him reloading in his car and two wounded little girls lying in the center of the playground. She knew he was coming back for them. She had called for backup, but in that moment she was on her own. She had a lot of ground to cover between the girls and the shooter. Halfway there she saw he was coming back from the car, locked and loaded. She knew even if she ran as fast as she could, he would still get to the little girls before she could. As soon as he saw Captain Shelton he drew on her. She called to him and told him to let the two girls go. If he wanted a hostage he could take her. She would drop her gun. The gunman told her, he wasn't taking any prisoners and shot Captain Shelton twice in the chest. While she was lying on the ground he came up to her and put his gun into her face and asked her if she had any last words. You know what she said?"

Summers was now on the edge of her seat captivated by the way James was telling Shelton's story. "No what did she say to him?"

"She said to him, 'Son, don't shame your mama like this.' He looked at her and his expression changed. He turned and walked back to the car, put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger."

"Oh my god. He stopped, just like that."

"In a million years I would have never thought to say something like that to a guy with a gun. You know most cops are good at a basic level, but because of the nature of what we do it makes some of them real jerks a lot of the time. But it's an officer like Captain Shelton that makes me try harder every day. Try harder to be more like her. That's why whenever
that
woman asks anything of me I never hesitate to say yes, " said James proudly.
 

"Thank god she was wearing her Kevlar that day," said Summers. James smiled back at her and shook his head no. "It was the one day she didn't wear it. Both those bullets are still in her chest. They are lodged in such a way that her life depends on them. The doctor told her if they ever try to take them out she'd go into shock and be gone within seconds. She calls them her little hearts. Because of Cap, those two little girls got to grow up and become moms. "

Summers sat motionless and amazed by the story. She now understood why James had such a deep respect and admiration for his captain.
 

James smiled and reached out his hand to Summers. "By the way we haven't really been properly introduced, I'm Thomas James." Summers returned his smile and took his hand into hers.
 

"Ashton Summers."

"From what I understand I owe a debt of thanks to you for what happened at the hospital last night," he said returning her grip.

"I can't take all the credit. Your friend Miss Rivera, she was right by your side the entire time," responded Summers as she slowly released his hand. The two of them looked back at the suspect behind the glass and then at each other. James leaned his head in a motion towards the interrogation room. "Ready to go and deal with our monster?" asked James. Summers nodded, "He who fights monsters must be careful that he himself does not become one."
 

 
James quickly finished her quote.

"For if you gaze into the abyss long enough the abyss will gaze back into you."

"Very good, you know your Nietzche," said Summers confidently.

"Maybe it's because I already know the abyss all too well."

 
She then paused as she looked deep into his hazel eyes and remembered the reason why she was here in the first place was because of him. Once again Summers shivered and felt the chill of fear on her body as she questioned in her mind.
Just how well does he know The Abyss?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 
The Abyss

 
James and Summers were met at the door of the interrogation room by the department's psychiatrist, Dr. Scott Cherney.
 

"So what's the story doc? Can we interview him?" asked James. Cherney put the thick manila file folder under his arm and patted James on the shoulder and ushered him and Summers over to the department's break room.
 

"I need a cup of coffee, I think you guys are gonna need one too," he said, walking past them to enter the break room. James and Summers exchanged a look and then obediently followed Cherney.
 

You could always tell where Doc Cherney was in the building because of the perpetual smell of cigarettes, black coffee and the occasional trailing scent of Aqua Velva. There were times James wondered if Cherney ever ate. Could a man survive on only coffee and cigarettes? If it were possible then Doc Cherney would be that man. His salt and pepper hair gave a small indication to his years. But what really gave his age away was his profound knowledge of movies. Not just the recent ones either. His mind was a
 
boundless library that went all the way back to the silent era. To hear him talk, you would think the man was a film critic not a psychiatrist, James thought,
 
you have to love something other than your job
. Doc Cherney's first love was obviously cinema. In fact when he wasn't trying to get inside the head of every asshole who felt the world owed them a favor, you could find him at his favorite coffee house working on his latest novel. Oddly enough James found the doctor to actually be a damn good writer. James's favorite was
Red Asphalt,
he had read it at least five times and still had never worked up the courage to ask the doc to autograph it for him.
 

"Sit down Tom and, I'm sorry, I don't remember your name."

"Ashton Summers, we haven't actually met," she said. This caused Cherney to respond with a confused look that he turned towards James as if to say, "Then why is she here?" James immediately picked up on his expression.

"Miss Summers is here on behalf of the F.B.I."

Cherney nervously nodded and poured himself a large cup of black coffee. He then sat opposite of James and Summers and reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of Camel no filters. In a matter of three moves he had a single cigarette from the pack to his lips and lit. James noticed Summers was about to protest due to California's law on virtually no smoking anywhere, when James nudged her that law didn't apply when it came to working with Dr. Cherney. She quickly caught on and relaxed back into her chair.

Now that Cherney was in his element, he could proceed with an air of comfort. He flipped open the folder and took a long drag from his cigarette. "You're gonna want to take notes, because even I don't know if I believe the shit I'm gonna tell you," he said as blew the smoke out through his nose. Summers quickly pulled a yellow legal pad from her folder.
 

Cherney continued, "Billy-Bob-No-Nose in there isn't your typical Ned Beatty raping hillbilly." Summers gave Cherney an incredulous look that was not only chastising, but it bordered between shock and amusement. Cherney relished in her reaction for a moment, then moved on. "I know, I amaze myself sometimes. Anyway I know it's clichéd to say, but your axe wielding killer in there is the real McCoy," said Cherney. He caught Summers glancing over her glasses while at him while she scribbled notes.
 

Cherney smirked, "Yeah I know another redneck reference, it happens. What I mean is, this guy has some fame and bragging rights behind him. He claims he's one of the Manson Family," said Cherney with a deliberate tone. Summers dropped her pen. James and Summers looked back towards the two-way glass and from there they sat in the break room they could see the killer sitting quietly. He then turned as if he was aware they were watching him. He calmly waved to them, which sent chills through both James and Summers.

"Doc, how did you find that out? I mean we can't even get prints off the guy because he slashed them off."

"I asked him," Cherney said in a matter of fact response. James was caught a little off guard by Cherney's flippant reply. "So he just came right out and told you he was one of Charlie's Family?" asked James.

"Pretty much," said Cherney as he took another drag off his cigarette. Summers stopped taking notes. "Did he tell you which member he was?"

"He told me Charlie called him Clem."
 

The name struck a chord in James's memory. Was it possible after 40 years Charlie was still pulling strings from prison? Captain Shelton's words came back to him. She was right there were a great deal of references to The Family and not just at the hospital.
 

"Clem?" questioned Summers.

"Steve Grogan," James quickly answered.

"That's right," replied Cherney.

"Is there anyway we can confirm it's really him?" asked Summers.

Cherney began flipping pages from the large folder on his lap. "Well until his fingerprints grow back I think we're gonna have to take his word for it. Or at least his written statement anyway. As his language skills are pretty limited. He doesn't have a tongue."

"Christ, did he cut out his tongue too?" asked James.

"No the Aryan Brotherhood did that for him in prison. Perfect way to silence a snitch. Apparently Charlie really
does
have a long reach from behind bars."

"You're telling me, Manson ordered the Aryan Brotherhood to silence Clem by cutting out his tongue," said Summers.

"I am yes. But that's not the weird part."

"Oh you mean it actually gets weirder?" questioned James. Cherney nodded, crushed out his cigarette and lit another.

"According to the police files, Clem was arrested for the murder of Donald 'Shorty' Shea. Manson was also part of that murder. Only Clem wasn't arrested and imprisoned until after Manson had his own trial. Clem and Charlie were sent to separate prisons."