JUSTICE REBORN (A Charlie Taylor Novel Book 1) (20 page)

Karen’s feelings reverberated: first
impatience, then frustration and finally anger.

Over a week ago they’d listened to an FBI
edited statement from the latest victim. The fragmented dialogue described the
victim’s wild encounter with a rapist, a self-declared lover. A great break but
since then nothing. Within a few minutes, they would tackle a brainstorming
session.

The senior detectives couldn’t be released
from the Five Star Couple case, but Charlie was able to bring in a detective
from Sector 13, Joe Kowchuck. While Charlie went over a few details with Joe,
she studied the big whiteboard. The organized collection of pictures, maps, and
text summaries covered the entire board. She understood Joe reviewed the
material last night, but he’d never participated in one of their brainstorming
sessions, not an encouraging development. Charlie started.

 “Karen why don’t you begin. Joe and I’ll
throw in comments or questions. If we don’t interrupt, keep going. You know the
routine.”

Karen knew all the relevant details without
any reference to the board. “First, the damn recording equipment turned out to
be rather ordinary or at least not specialized enough to warrant any special
attention from the vendors. With the right software package, you can do wonders
even with poor quality video.

We’ve returned to the crime scenes, but our
extra surveys haven’t uncovered a thing. To be more accurate, I should say: we
returned to the location where the girls were found and not where they were
assaulted.

I’m convinced the guy used to be a cab
driver. He must be disguising his car, even has a cap which looks like an old
fashion cabbie hat. And he knows the city, the quiet areas, the action streets,
and the locations of the high-end clubs. And last, he’s not picking up ladies
of the night, avoiding areas where most hookers work the street.”

 “Maybe the guy is just observant. We’ve
all been in a taxi. If he’s a frequent customer and observant, this would be
enough to put together a disguise.”

“Yes, I’ll concede that but it’s the way he
cruises and gets away without being noticed. In all the cases, we have no
witnesses who saw him coming or going.  He blends in and mixes with the regular
traffic.  He seems to know his way around this city better than some of patrol
people. Moving on, two women are still alive but can’t describe his face. The
old taxi cap hid his face until it was too late.

His voice? Well, one girl does remember.
So, if we get a suspect, this might be useful. But shit, the bugger doesn’t
care. We have his damn DNA.”

 “Is the bastard lucky? Never been caught?
Or has he just started this crap? And if he just started, does this mean he’s
very young and his hormones began to overwhelm him? No, I don’t think he’s
young. If he just started, what the hell triggered him to start this rape and
beating routine? If not a new game for him, how long has he been at it?”

“Charlie I reviewed our old cases and have
searches ongoing in other districts. Nothing surfaces which demonstrate a
pattern close enough to warrant chasing. I mean there are numerous unsolved rape
cases and battered women but nothing with this pick-up routine.”

Young Joe was not bashful.  “Let me try
some rambling. The guy’s start could have been on a rather slow gentle learning
curve. What if we’ve someone who became an occasional date rapist; you know he
might force a girl after a night of heavy drinking. Most of these are never
reported, our guy gets what he wants without any repercussions.

 One night the girl isn’t as drunk as he
thinks or is just a fighter, and they get into it. He beats her up and after
he’s finished with her, takes a few pictures, maybe she’s a prostitute and
nothing gets reported. Our friend discovers a couple of things: first, he
enjoyed the beating so much he knows he’ll do it again; last, he loves
reviewing the pictures. He can now get recharged at his own convenience.”

  What Charlie failed to reveal was Joe’s
background: a Master’s degree, majoring in abnormal behavior. His plan is to
work as a police officer for a couple more years and then return for his
psychology Ph.D. Psychologists were not among Karen’s favorite people.  A few
years ago, a couple of cases derailed because of some shoddy analytical
reports.

Charlie jumped in. “Once started, he can’t
get the genie back into the bottle. He tasted blood and doesn’t want to go
back. Maybe he does a couple more, still sticking to prostitutes and not
killing them. Even if a beating is reported, it may not get a serious response.
He may be brash with his public confessions, but I think the guy is
intelligent, and it’s easy to see how his photography could morph into
elaborate recordings.”

“Let me take it. He wanted more excitement
and ramped it up when he moved beyond prostitutes. I think he intended to beat
the girls to death, the two survivors were lucky; he thought they were dead. He
doesn’t want witnesses. I can see this development. Our guy has never clashed
with the law, maybe something minor with no formal arrest, well below any
radar.”

“Charlie, if you and Joe are right, I can
stop searching the arrest records. He started with the cases in front of us. 
Next issue his frequency. I looked at the full moon schedule, and there was no
tight correlation, but it does appear he strikes about every four weeks.”

 “Even though he pounded them with a pipe,
he also used his fists with no protection, scrapes of his skin embedded in the
faces of all the victims. I think his dormant periods are possibly related to
the healing time his hands require.”

 “I can accept parts of the conjecture. Let
me branch in a different direction. I’ve analyzed the locations of each
incident and again no geographic pattern. So we have the dump spots and are
guessing about the pick-up location. What we don’t know is where the crime
happened.” 

No response from the group. Everyone
appeared to need a break. Charlie left the room and Joe refilled his coffee
cup. Karen paced the hallway. In a few minutes, Charlie was back.

“Karen, try this,  draw a five-mile radius
circle around the last three incidents. Center point to be where we found the
girls.”

Karen worked on the computer for a few
minutes and then projected the incident maps onto the far wall. They all
studied the maps one incident at a time. Charlie spotted a potential pattern.
“If you look within each circle, you see one our parks: Bolton Park.

 At night, there is some lighting in most
areas of the park but this is the largest park in the city. It’s not as good as
our street lighting, and the large mature trees provide more shadows and create
dark regions. This is the main reason many residents avoid the place after
dark.

There are numerous entry-exit points and
some are a few minutes driving distance from our better nightclubs and
expensive hotels.”

“You think he cruises in the bright lights
because he wants the women to feel safe, and he wants the particular women who
patronize those spots. They feel safe in the bright light. Once in the cab he
subdues them, and within minutes he is into a dark region of the park which at
that time of night is deserted.”

Joe wanted in. “Sure and when finished he
moves fast to get out of the park but not too far because he can’t afford
getting picked up with a body in the car. He drives under control and within a
few minutes is out of the park, driving just far enough to find a quiet spot, a
spot with no one on the street and dumps the body. There is no pattern because
depending on the direction of his exit from the park and what else is going on
in the streets, he will encounter different quiet areas. We have a random
selection of dumping areas.”

“Gentlemen I won’t argue with any of the
conclusions, but this does not put me any closer to nailing the bastard.”

 Everyone was silent, took turns standing,
stretching and yawning. Karen started again. “Although I agree he’s probably
waiting for his hands to heal, I’m sure he’s anxious to attack again. We think
we know his hunting region and now Bolton Park with the lighting and trees of
the size to provide the shadow cover he needs. As well, we may know the color of
the cab, a dark green. The question is: can we get some extra patrol activity
in these vicinities during the evening hours?”

Charlie wasn’t sure but didn’t want to
disappoint her.  “Karen, you analyze the park and the various entry spots and
associated night spots; give me your best guess about the most likely
locations. Unfortunately, Bolton Park is vast and there are numerous exit
points but remember he’ll be coming from the elite hotel-club zone.

 I’ll go to the Chief and see if he’ll
release manpower for extra patrols. I know you’re hoping for more, but at least
we do have a better picture of the guy and his plan of attack. And thanks Joe.
Sorry, I have to run.”

He made an abrupt exit with Joe hurrying
after him. Charlie was right she had hoped for a better result. She knew the
extra patrol was a long shot. Harry was smart, and if he spotted a patrol car,
he would just keep cruising. Karen didn’t understand why she wanted to nail
this bastard to the point where it was almost an obsession. Sure his attacks
and beatings were mean and ugly but she had seen worse.

She knew this intense focus was not viewed
as a strength. At a previous performance review her supervisor noted: she was
too fast converging on one solution or suspect and not prepared to let go when
the time came to move on or change direction.

This evening she would cruise those regions
where the affluent young crowd regularly sought some action. Karen reviewed the
crime scene circles drawn on the whiteboard. As she stared at the maps,
something nagged at her; within minutes another coincidence emerged.

Harry’s last victim, circled on the board,
laid only a few blocks from the Ritz Hotel where the Five Star Couple last
registered. She dismissed the thought. It meant nothing; these two crimes were
not related.

Lust made logic easy to ignore.

That afternoon the bare young flesh had
dominated; the string bikini and thong revealed her entire back and buttocks, a
soft umber, almost black color. Her deep tan the result of many hours spent on
the hot sand.

Dr. Max Armstrong was not worried about the
session. The memories of that afternoon often replayed for his enjoyment: Sally
lying face down on the lounge and the hot sun warming her back. He understood
the danger but was confident he could control the interrogation.

In his saner moments, he thought it was
time to seek some professional help because his attraction to teenagers
represented a serious threat to his reputation. The man knew the line, but the
damn teenager was fantastic: the afternoon had been unbelievable. Again, it had
been one of those times when his attraction to young girls crushed his better
judgment.

 Numerous women willing volunteered to pair
up, in whatever terms he dictated; his good looks, media star status and casual
manner overwhelmed many in the female crowd. Generally his hectic research
schedule controlled his life, but at recess the urges prevailed. Months ago, he
made a connection with the teenage model group, and this proved an abundant garden
for him. His occasional weekends of debauchery were justified as diversions,
required to maintain his grueling research workload, a means to release
pressure and be reenergized.

Routine bored him. And, when he was in that
state, he occasionally did something imprudent and stupid. The birthday party
had not been a surprise. Dr. Max, a most respected man of science, made a
conscious decision to go to the house, hoping she would be alone. A reckless
decision. Now it was time to undergo the embarrassment of an interrogation;
this would take total concentration and great care to ensure he stayed on
course.

His debriefing with Jessie had been short
and abrupt. Max was not surprised they had introduced a blood test as part of
the interrogation, and soon he was ready for the main session. He opened the
door to the room marked ‘Interrogation S1’ and saw the two waiting ladies.

Janice had been introduced when he first
arrived. Dr. Kate he had known for years, her presence not unexpected.  The
Sector needed their most senior person in charge of the entire process, from
initial set up to final analysis; his denial of the charges demanded the best
interrogators. He flouted his confidence as he strutted around the
interrogation facility

 “Dr. Kate, I want to document these
sessions, before, during and after. I want to capture my feelings as the
medications take control, so I have my own recorder. I don’t believe my
comments will detract from the interrogation. Will this be allowed?”

Janice answered. “Dr. Max I don’t think it
will be an issue, as long as we have an understanding: I’m in control of the
process. This is a criminal investigation, and if there is any confusion, your
recordings stop.”

Max gave Janice his winning smile. The man
wanted to be in charge and couldn’t stop. Kate understood Janice’s irritation
with his behavior, so much for seductive charm.

A well-rehearsed process began. Sally
Grovernor’s interrogation provided the base for Legal’s recommended sequence of
questions; however, their interrogation scenario was only an option. An
experienced technician, like Janice, made the final decision. She controlled
the pace, altered the sequence and adjusted as the unanticipated occurred. It
was only if the case proceeded to S2, when Legal assumed full control of the
interrogation.

The physical preparation began: room
temperature lowered, the lights dimmed, and Max lounged on a large couch; after
the blood sample, Max swallowed the medication. Last, a warm blanket covered
the accused rapist. A short recess followed, waiting for the drug cocktail to
take control.

 Janice sat near the couch and reviewed
Legal’s questions. She considered ignoring the prepared set and instead start
with open-ended questions: let Max detail the incident and the relationships
with Grovernor and his daughter. A structured approach with a question and
answer set might give him too many opportunities to manage each response.

While they were waiting, Dr. Max began to
speak into his personal recorder.

 “The warm blanket is a splendid idea for
relaxing and even though the meds haven’t completely taken control, I feel very
calm and relaxed but not sleepy. My mouth is becoming dry but not
excessive..... eyesight is failing and I’m very sensitive to the light.  I’m
glad the room is dimly lit. I’ll keep my eyes closed because of the problems in
focusing…….result is a touch of nausea. Oh yes …..I can now feel the drugs
starting to work. I want to talk.

 I feel a need to explain and clarify. I
want to please the world and clear up any confusion. I’ve no concerns about my
personal safety and no concern for my reputation, image, and future, just
completely relaxed and confident that nothing can touch me. I’ll feel better if
I tell…… and not try to be devious….. I know I can’t lie…… just thinking about
a lie is upsetting. I want to be friends with all of you and make you
understand. I’m ready.”

Janice listened to his monolog, reviewed
the monitoring equipment and agreed. She was alone in the main room, Kate and
Legal in the adjoining room, the entire session being recorded for analysis.

Janice decided to let Max control the flow
of the story. The man was a genius and aware of all the implications and
concern. Rather than attacking questions, this soft approach may get a better
response; she would start this way and see how he responded, about himself and
his reputation. “Dr. Armstrong, why don’t you tell me your version of what
happened? And why you think this all happened?”

He began: his voice now much deeper and his
cadence much slower. At times, there were long delays between words, a typical
reaction and not a devious maneuver. The blunt confession blurted out,
fragments, phrases and sentences with surprising emotion.

 “There is no doubt Sally Grovernor is one
helluva a woman, not a girl……… she stopped being a girl when she was 13……at
times, I would have given away the Nobel Peace Prize to undress her and ……well
it would have been a helluva a night……. And God…..….. I was close a couple of
time to reaching out and stroking that magnificent ass. But Vince and I were
close and I, for once, kept my hands to myself. I probably inadvertently
signaled my real feelings.

You know I’m not known for self-control
when it comes to young females…….. Oh, I certainly wanted that woman and……… I
was very…………very close to going over the edge.”

 “Dr. Armstrong if all this is true, why
did Dr. Grovernor and Sally bring these charges?”’

“Yes, I know it’s strange. Let me go away
back. I started working on my science degree when I was 15 and had my Ph.D. at
20. At University, Vince and I first met at some evening seminars. Vince had
already graduated, but these sessions were open to anyone in industry who
wanted to attend.

 Vince’s company arranged to utilize an
extraordinarily expensive and complicated testing device………a recent acquisition
by the chemistry department. Even though I was busy with my Ph.D. thesis, the
department assigned me to help his staff. His team struggled with the device,
and I ended up doing most of the work for them. Vince appreciated my efforts
and insisted on a monetary bonus; the results of this testing became part of
Allied Scientific efforts to modify their products.  And a year later, after my
Ph.D. was granted, he asked me to join and help develop products for the
company.

He’s an excellent businessman and his
company really blossomed. My contribution started in the lab, and we patented a
number of processes and marketed a few highly profitable pharmaceutical
products. The best ones were the birth control meds and the erectile
dysfunction meds. I made a lot of money, but I want back to the academic life
and freedom with my research ideas……..I wasn’t happy. There were always
presentations to make……………….. to take me away from the lab………. mind you, the
wine and woman were excellent.

 That’s when the press started on me as the
wonder child who hadn’t learned to zipper up his pants…………..those bastards. One
fucking cartoonist published some ugly stuff …. clever and gross enough to get
worldwide coverage……….. almost cost my University appointment. Thank God I had
already signed up at the University before all the shit started flying.”

Max stopped and drank from the supported
water container. Janice was patient. “Dr. Max is this when Vince got upset,
when you quit his company and went back to academic to pursue the academic
career?”

“No, Vince was good about my returning to a
university life. I think he wanted to end the negative press and my association
with his products…………… you know a horny scientist who is developing birth
control pills …not a good  combination…….besides, he thought he had enough
brains in the lab to continue without me.

We remained friends for a long time, during
my departure and after……. the Nobel Peace Prize, my appointment as Dean of the
Science …….all my accolades not a problem for Vince. Shit…. I was at their home
on many weekends. Vince loved to BBQ and he’s an excellent cook; it didn’t hurt
his company for me to be trotted out as a one-time member of his
company…..Nobel Peace Prize winner etc.

Then the competition got lucky and developed
competitive products at a substantially lower costs.  Vince has tons of
money………. but wanted more and was not about to fold his company or sell out.

He insisted I return for an 18 to 24-month
stretch to tackle the cost problems. I tried to explain to him I enjoyed my new
role as Dean…… and interfacing with many different branches of the academic,
scientific community. He didn’t believe me……..accused me of being too busy
screwing anything available on campus ……..bottom line ….. he became furious and
accused me of trying to destroy his company. It never came to blows, but it did
get ugly, and I was told to stop coming around…..no more home visits or BBQs.”

 Max stopped and started to breathe a
little faster. “Are you alright Dr.? Your temperature is down, your heart rate
has decreased, and your breathing is rapid and rather shallow.’

“Janice just …give me a few minutes. I’m
reliving the central scene…it’s very stressful.”

Janice nodded and adjusted her earphones to
hear if Kate or Legal wanted changes. She heard Legal team wondering if Max was
trying to establish some type of meditative state, a yoga trick to control the
medication and his responses. Was he attempting to avoid something?  Kate told
Janice to proceed and not wait. Janice restarted.

“Dr. this is normal. Let’s proceed. You
have explained why Vince was angry and may have a motive to discredit or hurt
you but what about Sally? She was certainly not part of the business standoff.”

“You’re right and here comes………… some of
the nasty parts. As I said I at one time I was a regular house guest…… Sally
frequently present………. about 10 years old when I first meet her….. I was a
recent grad who’d just joined her dad’s company. I’ve to admit even at that
young age she was aware of me and ….and yes, an element of lust surfaced in my
mind …but didn’t take control ….and ..”

He stopped; Janice didn’t push this
confession; she would wait until S2, if it went that far. She continued with
her strategy to allow him to tell the story.

“As the years went by, it became more and
more evident she was becoming the proverbial 14-year-old going on 35. I won’t
go into details but you’ve seen her and you can’t deny she’s a package.
Something else which you may not uncover….. She’s as pigheaded as the old
man……. and if she wants something she will do anything to get it…….. a ruthless
woman.”

Again he stopped and slowed down his
breathing, now a more measured cadence.

“Weeks prior to this birthday, Vince had
stopped talking to me and had me thrown out of any functions he could
influence. A few days before Sally’s birthday I received a gift from one of my
grad students…… a bottle of champagne. Vince and I used to challenge each other
with questions about champagne, its production, its provenance, the works…..  I
knew this champagne to be one of Vince’s favorites…………. and I thought a gift of
this bottle might soften him up. I was also aware that Vince and his wife had
gone to Europe.

 I thought I would run it over at noon…….we
just live a few blocks apart. No, no…not true, I really hoped to be alone with
Sally. And lucky me.....when I got there, no one was home except Sally, who was
spread out on some large piece of lounge furniture …..by the swimming pool. She
invited me to sip some orange juice, and I admit I didn’t give a damn about the
juice…..I couldn’t take my eyes off her….. in this low cut bikini. Shit, she
was practically falling out of it…….there was not much left uncovered. I was
explaining the bottle was for Vince, she said………‘Fuck the bottle’.

It was getting too hot for me…….. she knew
I’d developed an excited state. I thought it best to sneak out……. make a fast
exit.

When I stood up to leave, she came right up
to me and said something like……….. ‘Max you have wanted to take my pants down
for a long time. Why don’t I help you?’…All at once her top is off and……. so is
the bottom. She reaches up and kisses my like an expert and I
responded…….unfucking unbelievable. What was I thinking?.............. no blood
left in my head…. my brain couldn’t function. Oh and by the way, I knew it
wasn’t her real birthday, and she was only 14. As a frequent house guest, I’d
been to a few of her real birthday parties.”