JUSTICE REBORN (A Charlie Taylor Novel Book 1) (17 page)

A solitary figure slouched in a webbed
lounge chair next to the pool.

The sun, high and bright, created a glaring
shimmer on the pool surface and heated the concrete surroundings. The remnants
of breakfast lingered on the table. He was a heavy-set man, between 50 and 60
years old, dark stubble on his face, his hair disheveled; he was under the
shade of the large beach type umbrella, oblivious to his surroundings.

Weeks ago, his CFO announced the bad news.
Dr. Vince Grovernor reviewed the numbers, again and again; nothing changed and
no matter how he tried to twist and turn, the conclusion survived, the
financial picture grim. A competitor drastically reduced production costs and
flooded the market with comparable products at almost half the price.
Grovernor’s sales volume plunged, and only loyal customers continued with his
company, the results reflected in a disastrously small revenue stream.

A few years ago when the trade journals
first reported his chief competitor hired two top flight chemical engineers, he
guessed they would tackle the production costs. At that time, Max was no longer
with the company, but Grovernor turned to him. A four-year absence from the
production process didn’t trump ego, and Max dove in with a multitude of suggestions. 
But, he refused to leave the University; he said, he was on to something new
which Grovernor translated as: on to someone new.

However, Max did spend time with the
company’s scientists and technicians. Never shy to demonstrate his superior
intelligence and obvious talent, he presented many ideas and alternative
solutions. He provided his best arm’s length analysis.

For a time Grovernor’s staff made progress,
small but steady cost reductions. Unfortunately, his senior chemist died from a
heart attack, and the rest of the crew floundered without strong technical
leadership. The cost reduction program stumbled and flat lined.

Again, Grovernor turned to Max, pleading
for him to leave the University for two years so they could solve the problem
and get into a revised production cycle. Max refused; his new research was too
exciting, and he feared losing his advantage.  It was at the University where
Max’s career had skyrocketed and where he knew future glory resided. Grovernor
literally begged.

An unyielding Max couldn’t understand:
Grovernor was a multimillionaire. Why not just walk away and sail around the
world?  Grovernor didn’t try and explain. Money was not the issue; he didn’t
like to lose; damn it he was a competitor, and Max should have known.

 After the financial situation had become
desperate, he told Max not to come around, the scientist no longer welcome at
the house or any of their functions. All open invitations were canceled. Max,
living in his own world, found this hard to believe and showed up at some
parties where a brusque escort showed him the door. For some reason he still
wanted to be part of the family and didn’t seem to be offended if a security
guard lead him out through the front door.

Grovernor’s daughter compounded his stress.
He was not naïve and was not fooled by his daughter; in fact they were very
close.  Building a company from the ground level, organizing a group of
sensitive academic young scientists, which had included Max, meant his time had
always been a precious resource. But, Grovernor ensured he made time for his
daughter and enjoyed her transition from toddler to beautiful teenager.

Her academic record became a source of
pride, and he was pleased to hear the drama club chose her to play the lead in
the wind-up production later in the spring. She surprised everyone with this
acting gift; the drama director labeled her a ‘natural’. Grovernor thought this
would not be a wise career choice and already planned how he could curtail any
moves in that direction.

Today, he was second guessing himself. He
had known about her attraction to Max. Damn it, the infatuation started early,
at times embarrassing. If she knew he was coming, you could sense her
excitement, and within minutes she would be up the stairs to find a better outfit
to wear. She always attempted to sit next to him or at least be close.
Grovernor knew Max understood the attraction; her interest was evident to all
and Max didn’t need much to pick up the scent; the bastard was the master.

Although Grovernor and his wife discussed
the issue, he refused to intervene and decided to treat it as a school girl
infatuation which would dissipate with time.  The unspoken reason was: in those
start-up years he needed Dr. Max and didn’t want to irritate him. Surprisingly,
Max had developed a sensitive about his relationships with teenage girls, too
much innuendo spilling onto his workbench.

Grovernor spoke to his daughter many times
and even told her about Max’s reputation. Hell, the revelation seemed to
intensify her interest and make him more desirable. His wife tried to reason
with Sally, but that was even a bigger failure.

The situation, as his wife liked to call
it, presented itself when they were forced to return early from a European
trip. Within minutes of walking into the backyard he knew something had
happened.

The birthday party concluded a few days
ago; everything should have been smiles and laughs. Instead, he found his
daughter alone, no friends at the pool, furniture strewn around or broken.
Sally upset. Damn it where did she get that swimsuit, might as well be naked.
After he spied the empty bottle of Champagne and recognized the quality, he
guessed the source. They started to talk, a brutally frank discussion. He would
not let this slide. Grovernor resolved to put an end to the situation.

That son of a bitch would not stop; once he
focused on a girl, it appeared only a bullet would stop him.

                                           #
# #

Back at the Judge’s office, Ann and the
Judge had a rare coffee break together.

 “Stephen, sometimes I can’t believe where
we’ve arrived and how fast we got here. Do you think the pendulum will ever
swing back?”

Ann and the Judge had evolved into an
indomitable team, each crisis another challenge to be resolved.   She knew more
about the nuances of his moods than he realized and understood the pending mass
executions and the body counts would cost him many a sleepless night. He was
guarded in his reply but did not adopt the didactic style he often used with
the legal staff.

“Abrogation may occur in the future, but I
fear that the sun will roast the entire planet before that happens.”

“It appears as if there is no mercy left in
the system.”

“We do provide for a first-time offense: a
generous opportunity for the individual to prove this was one mistake which
will not be repeated. But, as you know, the penalties escalate, and any
incident which involves a serious injury or death is covered under the repeat
offenders’ legislation. This law gives you three chances but on the fourth event
it is unlikely you will avoid death by lethal injection. No excuse is accepted.
Whether it is a motor vehicle accident or a bar fight, it is immaterial. You
have exhibited a violent pattern of behavior.”

While the Judge gathered his thoughts, Ann
remembered the first time a woman was sentenced to death because her drunken
driving killed a pedestrian. At first the public reacted, but after her record
was published, sympathy disappeared and the prevailing mindset quickly accepted
the sentence.

“This extreme approach is balanced with the
emphasis on rehabilitation, and we have invested a great deal of money into
Farms and appropriate staff. The Farms have been a success, to the surprise of
many of us.

 The Farms, at first glance, appear to be
summer resort camps, but they operate like a six week Marine camp, emphasizing
physical conditioning, proper diet, and an extensive outdoor work program.
Also, they identify social skills which requiring upgrading: for example,
someone who is illiterate is put into a reading program. The Farms can’t deal
with all the issues in six weeks but do identify the major problems, and they
provide the outside contacts for follow up.

 This emphasis on rehabilitation continues
even for the second and third-time offender. The motivation to succeed is
driven by the knowledge that the penalty for a rehabilitation failure is
severe. When restoration fails, we basically have concluded it is best to
remove the individual from society. What makes our situation unique is: there
is no longer any doubt about guilt or innocence. Once established the rules are
firm and clear.”

“Does this make your job easier?”

“In some ways but there is still an element
of judgment and discretion.  For major crimes and repeat offenders, my job is
to review the offense, assess Legal’s recommendation and make a decision which
will reflect society’s demands. I’m the final authority for our Sector.

 But I’ll just be a spectator as the Prison
Decommissioning work unfolds. Since prisons are to be closed, the prisoners not
on death row will have to be released or moved to a Farm. If inmates are
subjected to S1 interrogations, officials will undoubtedly uncover different
crimes; each revelation leading to a possible lethal injection which was never
part of the prisoner’s original sentence.

 And, the repeaters will be a more
convoluted issue; as they are uncovered, it’s a certainty the body count will
mount.”

She could sense his concern and watched him
retreat into his office. Earlier that morning Stephen had explained: he wanted
her to approach Charlie. It was now Ann’s turn to prepare for a lunch with
Charlie, a person she liked but wondered about the Judge’s confidence in the
man. To her, this assignment demanded an investigator who had a record of
discretion and was able to operate with restricted resources under a top secret
security clearance.

 Today, Charlie was an unknown; his earlier
history included a string of spectacular successes but in the process he gained
a reputation of an iconoclast, an unpredictable force. She understood why the
Chief had to be by-passed, but Charlie’s flamboyant style didn’t appear to be a
fit for this assignment. Since she rarely challenged Stephen, tomorrow she
would lunch with Charlie and give him the job and possibly some advice.

                                                 ###

Monk walked the paths at the Abbey. He was
pleased with Charlie and Wes, the detectives’ participation in the recent
hospital visits; the kids loved all the attention, and the men seemed to be
buoyed up by the energy and optimism of the children. A small bald, very young,
boy took to Charlie and hung around his neck the entire visit at St. Michaels’
cancer ward. The homicide detective smiled for the whole tour, a dramatic
change from an average day.

But it was difficult to think about that
success. The planned attack on the S3 interrogation continued to worry him, a
pressing issue.  He rehearsed his next debriefing of Charlie; Ron Bowen, the
convict on death row, provided Monk an in-depth review of the entire week prior
to the incident. The accused killer tried to remember all the details from the
daily weather to the clothing his grandmother was wearing. Then Monk and
Charlie would walk through each day of that week. They wanted this detail
firmly implanted in Charlie’s mind

The plan was: as soon as one of these early
scenes surfaced, Charlie would be able to recognize them and order a jump
AHEAD.  They hoped the jump would be far enough to get past the drunk killing
in the park.

 Charlie appeared to be coping, but Monk
wasn’t convinced. He thought about all the issues: Horny Harry, the Five Star
Couple, Emma, the basketball game and the Chief. Was there more? How could
Charlie concentrate on Ron Bowen’s history? There was no room for error.

Maybe he should have Charlie pull out;
maybe just play it straight and hope the scene never surfaces. But this could
be Ron’s death sentence.

The last girl was still alive: an error,
not to be repeated.

 He was an ordinary looking guy, average
build, average appearance, and average in almost any way you cared to describe
him. The biggest surprise was his near genius, which surfaced when he repaired
sophisticated, specialized equipment, any computer controlled device or audio/visual
apparatus, his intelligence conspicuous at the work bench. Original design was
not his strength. But, he repaired and modified existing equipment to allow
utilization beyond anything incorporated in the first model.

His current employer understood his value
and deflected the criticisms and complaints, lost a few female staff because of
him but considered that the cost of doing business. Harry, not his real name
but paradoxically the nickname his coworkers gave him when the media created
the Horny Harry tag, was well aware of his value. He tried to control himself
at work because he wanted a low profile but on occasion the temptation became
too much, and he rationalized a little incidentally contact should not be an
issue.

Harry knew the value of an apology and
developed into an excellent confessor, and tears of sorrow came fast and easy.
This worked the first couple of times, then the lament and admissions sounded
rather hollow, and it was time for the girl or Harry to move on; most of the
time it was the girl.

Early in his life the fascination with
electronics consumed him, and his late physical maturity meant more hours at
the workbench in his parent’s garage.   By the time all the hormones started to
take over, he was nearly 20 years old, with the dating expertise of a
12-year-old. His first rape happened at a party organized by a couple of
like-minded university students. He didn’t know where they got the drugs,
didn’t ask, and just went for the ride which, other than the excitement of the
first time, he did not particularly enjoy. The drugs made his victim an
uncaring participant, this diminished partnership not to his liking.

His first solo unrolled during a routine
date. He and girl had been drinking most of the night. Although he did not
batter the girl, he still used his strength and fierce temper to achieve his
objective, which proved much better than his first experience. To his surprise
and relief, the police never showed up at his door.

His first violent rape, of an unknown
victim, occurred almost by accident,  certainly not because of a comprehensive
plan. The girl, after hours of heavy drinking, decided to wrestle with him, an
aggressive warm up. Things got out of hand with fists flying, and soon the
blows from both parties were landing with full force.  He beat her to
unconsciousness, raped her and left, hoping she was too drunk to remember him
or any of the details.

The police report detailed the crime with
one omission: the girl couldn’t remember his name or his appearance, an
alcoholic fog prevailed. The pattern was now set. He proceeded with great care,
meticulously selecting victims, many weeks between encounters, the incidents
often not reported. He never thought he would lose control, but each incident
seemed to demand a higher standard of brutality and blood. A few months after
receiving his degree, he developed a more elaborate plan.

Periodic employment as a cab driver
financed his early university years. Scholarship funds grew with each semester,
and by his third year he dropped this temporary work. But, the prior experience
made it easy for him to rig a disguise for his car and himself, monitor
dispatchers and identify the action streets.

When he communicated with the news media,
he used his technical skills to keep his identity hidden; the notoriety was
magnificent. The DNA and fingerprints he left didn’t matter because if they got
close enough to him, he would not get past an S1 interrogation without spilling
everything. They were wrong when they called him reckless and sloppy; he knew
exactly what he was doing and how he wanted to do it.

The surreptitious nickname he acquired at
work provided an unspoken satisfaction. This backstairs tag, only spoken when
he was not present, was meant to mock him, but he loved the recognition. It was
almost as good as the public acknowledgment and fear that Horny Harry
generated. His arrogance made it difficult not to strut around work each day
with a self-satisfied grin.

His injured left hand enforced patience.
His best guess: in another week it would be healed.

                                                          
# # #

The Five Star Couple started planning for
their last attack in this city.

 Remnants of their police training and
experience were evident: a city map taped to the wall, red pins marked their
strikes, blue pins for Harry’s attacks, and related spreadsheets documented
dates, days of the week, and times of each attack.

Initially, they only recorded their kills
but recently, as his activity escalated, started tracking Harry. The reason for
their interest: some his assaults were close to the upscale hotel district.,
Harry’s last attack within a few blocks of the Ritz hotel. They tried to
ascertain a pattern or frequency to his activity. He appeared to regularly
cruise, or dumped his victims, close to their preferred operating zone, which
meant drawing police surveillance to the region. The best hotels were located
adjacent to the large city parks, but Harry didn’t leave his victims in the
parks.

This afternoon they focused on the wardrobe
changes, everything to be new and different: dress, hat, gloves, wigs, and no
physical resemblance to previous attacks. The planning a painstaking process,
detail by detail. The male partner always the most vocal, paced the floor,
verbalizing new ideas and potential problems, his female partner a more
composed, cool, and deliberate participant. Neither drank or used drugs, sex
with each other or their victim not part of their world, unlike Harry, who was
driven by his lust. But the demand for violence grew, and they both knew their
demon would soon take control.

For this city, their goal became one more
girl. After, they would move to a different and larger city, farther north. The
target hotel was selected, but their analysis software flashed troubling
correlations: Harry kept showing as a possible visitor in their area. Also,
from their own assessment they concluded Harry would strike soon, too much time
had gone by since his last attack, and they understood uncontrollable urges.

The female partner urged caution and wanted
to leave the city immediately: any unanticipated or fluke event could be their
downfall; the presence of Harry could flood the region with police.  The
Housekeeper was adamant they could do this, and they could move prior to
Harry’s next attack. Worst case scenario: Harry attacks and causes chaos in the
area. The risk seemed to add to the excitement and pleasure; it was a challenge
to a disciplined mind and superior planning.

The housekeeper decided to make this a
special send off and settled on the ritziest hotel in the district. Then he
planned to engage the most expensive escort agency in the region, in total a
great going away present for both of them.

After reading the latest media summary
about the Five Star couple, his confidence soared, the erroneous reporting and
the floundering police a bonus. The most fundamental characteristic of their
operation still eluded the police. The housekeeper laughed and enjoyed the
duplicity, his partner more subdued. The plan detailed a brief, violent
encounter and then a rapid exit from the city.

The misanthropic couple never understood or
appreciated the limits of man-made plans; before they left the city, fate would
provide an unanticipated explosive challenge.