Serial Date: A Leine Basso Thriller (22 page)

Chapter 36

The searing pain
in her foot confused her. Leine struggled against brain fog and nausea, working to make sense of what was causing her so much agony. She opened her eyes and squinted, trying to bring the scene at her feet into focus.

She could only see the top of his head as Azazel bent over her leg, working diligently.
What is he doing to my foot?
She was on the bed, her hands crossed at the wrists and bound with zip ties to the headboard above her. The laptop sat next to them on a side table. April's face filled the screen. She's still alive, she thought. A feeling of relief mingled with the growing awareness of pain. A high-pitched whine had taken the place of Azazel's classical music selection. She tried to yank her foot away, but he'd tied her legs apart and had an iron grip on her ankle.

He stopped what he was doing when she moved and glanced up. His eyes had a glassy cast to them. Blood covered his hands and face. A folded towel had been placed under her ankle, but it was soaked with her blood. In his hand he held a bloodstained rotary tool with the sanding wheel attached. A smile spread across his spattered face.

“Oh, good. You're awake. I didn't want you to miss this part.” He nodded toward the camera. “I'm filming this, so don't worry. You'll be able to see the first part in High Definition.”

Leine took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to calm her mind and at the same time transcend the pain. When she felt she had her emotions under control, she opened her eyes to stare at Azazel and said nothing.

A look of disappointment crossed his face, but it passed and he resumed his task with the tool. Leine bit her tongue to keep from screaming and tasted blood.

A moment later he stopped and selected a dry towel next to him on the bed to sop up the blood, then inspected his handiwork from all sides.

“For this occasion I thought I'd try out my new, handy-dandy power tool. You wouldn't believe what's available at your local home improvement store.” He smiled. “So much to choose from.”

The pain narrowed her focus the way nothing else could. Her mind became a pinpoint of awareness as she concentrated on April's face on the laptop. Everything she was experiencing, all the pain, her fear for April's life, the rage that this monster had gotten the upper hand, she directed outward. Breathing deeply, Leine shifted conscious thought until the pain became an abstract concept.

Azazel shut the sander off and set it down. He then picked up a pair of needle-nosed pliers that were lying next to his knee, which he showed to Leine.

“I've cut the first toenail to the quick. Now I'm going to remove it.” He grasped the nail and gave it a vicious jerk. It tore free and Leine screamed. He held it up to look at it, then dropped it into a dish beside him.

“Just think—you have nine more. Then we move on to your fingers.”

This is going to be a long fucking night, Leine thought. She shook her head to clear the pain, fighting the nausea threatening to derail her self-control.

Azazel smiled as he laid the pliers on the damask cover.

“You're going to like what's coming next.” He slid off the bed and scanned the room. “Now where did I put them? Oh, yes. I remember.” Azazel started across the floor but stopped and turned to look at her. “You understand why I have to do this, right?”

Leine glared at him. “No, I don't.”

“Well, you need to know. Otherwise this makes no sense, I'm sure.” He walked back to the bed.

“You see, Madeleine, you committed a heinous act several years ago and now it's time for payback.” He wiped his face with his forearm before continuing.

“You killed my father. You may remember him. He was nicknamed 'The Frenchman' and was well known in arms circles the world over.” He watched Leine for a reaction. “No? Well that just pisses me off, Madeleine.” He stepped closer. Leine prepared herself for more pain, but Azazel simply stood there, his hands shaking.

“I don't know what you're talking about. I never killed your father.” Confirming his assumption would ramp up the pain factor he was going to deliver by ten. Leine ignored her throbbing foot and concentrated on him.

“You can say whatever you'd like, but I know the truth.” The expression on his face had changed. His eyes appeared to snap with intensity. “I'm weary of your lies. And I'm weary of you. We could have had everything, Madeleine. Just remember, you chose this path.” He turned and walked out of the room.

What did he mean, that I chose this path
? Well, she reminded herself, he's bat-shit crazy. It wasn't like she'd be able to make sense out of much of anything he said.

As soon as he was gone, Leine used her arms to pull herself as close to the head of the bed as her bound ankles would allow, giving her some slack in the plastic zip ties. She still wore the bobby pins she'd put in that morning to keep her hair back. Her hands and arms had gone numb from being tied above her head and it took several tries before she was able to grasp one of them with her fingers and pull it free.

It slipped through her fingers onto the bed behind her. Frustrated, she searched and found the other one, this time taking more care so it wouldn't drop. The seconds ticked by. After what seemed like hours Leine managed to insert a prong of the bobby pin into the underside of the zip tie and slide it free. Then she folded forward and untied the ties binding her ankles to the foot of the bed.

Once free, she hugged the headboard and climbed to her feet, careful to keep the weight off her bloody toe. A knife lay on the bed next to the sander and pliers. She tossed the few pillows remaining on the bed to the floor and threw the damask cover back, revealing the top sheet. Using the knife, she cut a strip and tied it around her toe to slow the bleeding.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a light flash. Silently, she slipped behind the curtain by the bed to wait for Azazel.

Chapter 37

Jensen and Putnam
pulled in half a block down from the parking lot belonging to the dilapidated warehouse. The red Honda Civic stood out against the faded concrete walls.

“That the one?” Putnam asked.

“Same plate as what the kid wrote down.”

They got out as a patrol car rolled in and parked beside them. They waited for the other two officers to exit their vehicle.

“The guy we're looking for is considered armed and extremely dangerous,” Jensen said. “He's already killed three women we know of, probably a hell of a lot more. We think he kidnapped this woman,” he held up a photograph of April, “and is holding her here.” Next, Jensen showed them a photograph of Leine. “This is her mother. We believe she came here looking for the killer. She has extensive knowledge of firearms and is probably armed.” Jensen walked to the trunk and opened it. “Garcia, you come with us. Divecchio, stay here and direct the other unit to the entry and exit points.”

Jensen had radioed his lieutenant on the way to advise him there was no time to wait for S.W.A.T. and that they were going in. The team's ETA was twenty minutes—too long for them to wait. April and Leine could be dead by then. Jensen and Putnam each strapped on a Kevlar vest and closed the trunk.

They tried the first door they found, but it was locked. They got lucky on the second one. Guns drawn, they quietly crept inside. The three of them stopped to listen, but heard nothing.

The side they entered originally housed the offices for that section of the building. Destroyed by relentless sun and vandalism, the interior carpeting was ripped and faded and most of the doors were busted or off their hinges. Light fixtures hung at unnatural angles and obscene graffiti covered the walls.

Jensen went in high with Putnam covering low as they moved from room to room, finding nothing but garbage left by squatters with a couple of rats rooting through it. Garcia followed at a discreet distance. The three of them continued through the building, methodically clearing the rooms, but didn't find anything noteworthy.

Further in, they came to another suite of offices, most with their doors either missing or destroyed. Larger than the others, these rooms were more than likely where the CEO and upper management would've been located.

Putnam walked over to the only office with a closed, intact door. A large, interior window extended a few feet to the left with its blinds drawn. He tried the handle, but it was locked. Jensen nodded and they each took a side. On the count of three, Jensen kicked the door open.

April screamed in surprise. She was bound to a chair in front of a video camera and microphone. Jensen crossed the room and killed the mic, then bent to untie her. Putnam radioed they'd found her.

“He's got my mother. Please, you have to find them.”

“Do you know where they are?”

April shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “I think in this building. After he showed me the area where he planned to kill her, he blindfolded me and we walked here. It wasn't far. He counted the steps.”

“Can you remember which direction? Did you turn left? Right?”

“Wait.” April closed her eyes to think. “We walked sixty-four steps and turned right, then I think it was fifteen and we turned left. I-I can't remember how many it was to this room. Not many. I'm sorry.”

“Was he working alone? Did he have more than one weapon?”

April shook her head. “As far as I know, it's just him and he only has the one gun. He had two helpers, women, but he shot them. I heard a gun go off upstairs before he came down to the basement. He killed the dark haired woman, Gwen, right in front of me. When we got here, he hid the gun in a drawer next to the bed, but he didn't think he'd have to use it.”

“There's a bed?”

“Yeah. He's got this whole weird thing set up for my mom, with cameras and stuff. Like a movie set. He thinks she's his soul mate.”

“But he's still going to kill her?”

Fresh tears spilled onto her cheeks as she nodded. “He says he has to because of something she did. I-I don't know what, he didn't tell me.”

Garcia walked in, Divecchio behind him.

“The other unit's in place,” Divecchio said.

“I checked a little further along the hall,” Garcia added. “There's a couple of bathrooms a few yards down. After that, the hall leads into what I assume is the actual warehouse. It's pitch black as far as I could see.”

“Got it.” Jensen pulled him aside. “I need you to babysit her. The guy has her mother and we need to go in now.” Garcia nodded.

“No problem. Divecchio can go with you.”

Jensen relayed the directions April gave him to Putnam and Divecchio. Jensen turned to April. “Go with Officer Garcia. He'll take good care of you.”

“Can't all four of you go? I'll be fine. My mother needs your help.”

“Don't worry. We'll find her.” With that, Jensen, Putnam and Divecchio disappeared into the dark warehouse.

***

Azazel walked into the room carrying a pair of pipe cutters and froze when he saw the empty bed. Leine watched him through the slit in the curtain, silently urging him to come closer. He rotated slowly in place, searching the room. Then he lifted his head and sniffed, as though trying to locate her scent in the air.

He lowered his head and stared at the curtain. He took a step toward her, but stopped. Detouring around the bed in the other direction, he opened a drawer on the far nightstand and pulled something out. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw the outline of a handgun.

This way, Azazel
. Just a little bit closer, Leine thought as she fingered the knife. Although larger than she preferred, it would work for her purposes.

Azazel skirted the bed and advanced toward her hiding place. As he drew nearer, Leine dropped to a crouch. He came forward a few steps, stopped and sniffed again. Incense still hung in the air. He wavered for a second as though uncertain, then moved closer.

Leine snaked the knife from behind the curtain through the space between his legs and then jerked it back with a vicious twist, slicing through his hamstring. Azazel screamed as he crumpled to the floor, clutching the back of his leg. The gun clattered to the floor. Leine emerged from behind the curtain and kicked it across the room, far out of his reach. She circled around behind him and seized him by the neck in a chokehold, running the blade of the knife up the side of his face so that he could feel the cold steel against his skin.

“Tell me where she is, Azazel. Now.”

Azazel's breathing came in shallow bursts as he shook his head.

“Kill me and you'll never find her.”

“Kill you and the world will be a far better place. I will find her. You can bet on that.” Leaning into his ear, she whispered, “I found your house and I found you.” She lifted the knife to his throat. Azazel struggled, but Leine tightened her grip.

Motion to her left brought Leine's focus away from Azazel and onto the laptop screen. April's mouth moved as though she was speaking, but it wasn't directed at the camera. Why couldn't she hear anything?
Had he turned off the sound?
Azazel's head was turned away from the screen and couldn't see what was going on. April's face grew larger as she moved toward the camera and then disappeared. For a brief instant, Jensen's face appeared on screen and then he was gone.

They found her. She's safe
. Relief flooded through her.
I can kill him now.
She raised the knife but hesitated. The revenge and rage were gone, leaving her drained and numb. Leine searched her feelings and found nothing but revulsion for the monster whose life she now held.

But revulsion wasn't enough to move the knife across his throat.
Why should I take his life when surviving would be far worse for him?
Did she really want to kill again? Did she want Azazel's ghost chasing her through her dreams, where she'd never be able to escape him? There'd been far too much blood shed.

She relaxed her grip on the knife, but kept Azazel in a headlock.

“April's free.” The words helped make things real. Azazel stiffened in her arms, barely breathing.

“You're lying.”

Keeping the knife to his throat, Leine shifted him so he could see the empty laptop screen. A guttural cry sounded from deep within him as he realized she spoke the truth. Azazel lunged forward. Leine shifted the knife a split second before the blade would have sliced through his carotid artery.

“Kill me,” he demanded.

“Never,” Leine whispered.

***

April paced the room as Garcia watched. “Ready to go?” he asked.

“I need to use the bathroom really bad.”

“Oh, sure. There's one right around the corner here. It's not gonna be close to clean, though. This place is pretty messed up.”

“Believe me, when you've been tied to a chair as long as I have, it doesn’t matter what it looks like.”

“Here, take a flashlight.” Garcia handed her the one from his utility belt.

“Thanks. I'll be right back.”

He showed her where it was and told her he'd be nearby if she needed him. She thanked him, walked down the hall and stopped at the door that said Women. She turned to see if Garcia was still there. His outline was barely visible from the light shining into the corridor from the office. He waved. She waved back and stepped into the bathroom.

She let a few seconds pass and turned off the flashlight. Then she cracked the door open. Garcia was still there, but she didn't think he could see her without the flashlight on. Silently, she slipped down the hallway, counting to fifteen.

***

Jensen, Putnam and Garcia found the break room first. Jensen walked over to the thick brocade curtain hanging from the ceiling at one end of the room while the other two did a quick search. The sweet smell of incense reminded him of college. Muted voices filtered through from the other side of the curtain. Tracking the sound, he worked his way along the fabric, looking for an opening while Putnam searched the opposite direction. Divecchio stayed back, prepared to move when needed.

Jensen discovered where the two curtains overlapped and peered through. His eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the low light level before he saw two people on the floor by a large, four-poster bed. One of them was Leine. She held a man in a chokehold, a knife to his throat.

***

“Drop the knife, Leine, and back away.”

Leine turned her head. Relief washed through her when she recognized Jensen standing next to the curtain. She threw the knife to the other side of the bed and climbed to her feet. “I cut through his hamstring. He's not going anywhere.” She raised her hands and backed away.

At that instant, a loud shot echoed through the room. Azazel jerked and slumped sideways to the floor. Leine dropped to her knees and scanned the area. Where the hell did that come from? Jensen and Putnam had both taken cover behind the bed, their guns drawn and pointed at the other side of the room.

“Drop it, now,” Putnam yelled.

Near the video equipment, a lone figure stood next to one of the cameras, the outline of a gun visible in her hands. The gun clattered to the floor.

It was April.