Read The May Day Murders Online

Authors: Scott Wittenburg

Tags: #Mystery, #Detective, #Thrillers, #Thriller, #Novel, #thriller and suspense, #scott wittenburg, #see tom run, #thriller fiction mystery suspense

The May Day Murders (42 page)

BOOK: The May Day Murders
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That convinced me that they
were on the up-an-up. So, I mustered up all of my courage and
walked over to you. Then I asked you out.


The rest, as they say, is
history.”

Stanley stood up walked over to the
balcony door and examined the wound on his face in the reflection.
Ann was frozen where she lay, overwhelmed by what he had just told
her. She considered making a run for it but knew that it would be
futile. She wanted to lash out at him, tell him that what Marsha
had done over twenty years ago didn’t justify his murdering her.
But she remained silent. Stanley Jenkins was clearly off his
rocker, schizoid. There was no sense in trying to rationalize
anything with him. He was also a cold-blooded killer, and she
realized that it was just a matter of moments before he murdered
her as well.

She was not in any hurry to die,
though.

Stanley turned around and strode over
to her, dabbing at his wound with a towel. He had tears in his
eyes. He stood over her and forced a weak smile.


You might as well have
killed me that day, Ann. I was shattered by your refusal and really
angry that I’d fallen for your friends’ little scheme. Now, maybe
you can understand why I got great satisfaction killing them. They
fucked me up royally and deserved to die.”

His tone of voice sharpened, his
self-confidence returned. “I went into seclusion after that
incident at the basketball game. I still wanted you in spite of
what happened but I knew there was little I could do about it at
the time. After graduation, my parents all but forced me to go away
to college so I started taking courses that summer. In a way, I
didn’t care—I just wanted to get away from Smithtown. I did drugs,
a lot of drugs, and I didn’t give a flying fuck about my grades or
my parents. I had hit the skids and just wanted to try to have fun
for a change.


Then I laid eyes on Cindy
Fuller for the first time at a party one night. She reminded me so
much of you! I started following her around and spying on her, all
the time pretending that she was you. Then I made the same mistake
yet again—I asked her out and she refused me. I got really angry
and wanted to kill her. Sam has already told you all about the fire
and all of that, so I won’t bore you with it.”

Ann flinched at the mention of Sam. If
only she’d listened to him—


While I was in the
nut-house,” he continued, “I made a vow to myself. When I got out,
I was going to change myself, make myself a better person. Not long
after I finally got released, I received a rather tidy life
insurance settlement, thanks to my recently departed father. I went
to Vegas and studied the tables then figured out how to beat the
system. I got fucking rich, all in the matter of a few months. I
took all of my winnings to L.A. and began devising my master
plan.”

Stanley paused a moment and stared
thoughtfully at Ann. “You can get up, Ann. You’re uncomfortable.
Don’t worry, I’m not going to harm you.”

Ann knew this was a lie but stood up
nonetheless. He winked at her then strode over to a stool near the
window and gestured toward it.


Why don’t you sit here?” he
said. It was more of a command than a suggestion.

She nodded and went over to the stool,
sat down. The wood was cold and hard against her damp swimsuit as
she tried futilely to quit shivering. It was becoming increasingly
apparent that Stanley had a dual personality—a sort of Jeckyl and
Hyde persona. And at the moment, he was assuming a sort of
unsettling combination of both characters.

Jenkins sauntered over to the painting
of the nude women and studied it for a moment, then turned around
and faced Ann.


I kept totally to myself
while living in L.A. In fact, I was virtually incognito. I rented a
beach side villa under a fictitious name and spent the next year
there making dozens of overseas calls to Europe and fooling around
with personal computers, which were just beginning to appear in the
consumer market. I was absolutely fascinated by computers, so I
started writing my own programs and finding ways of patching into,
at that time, the relatively infantile internet as well as various
data bases.


My plan was simple, but
time-consuming to execute. I had three objectives: One was to
locate a plastic surgeon out of the country who was not only really
good, but who could also be bribed. Secrecy is the key, Ann. As
they say, ‘loose lips sink ships.’ It was my intention to have
reconstructive surgery performed on my entire face. In other words,
turn my ugly face into a handsome one. It was not my intention,
though, for anyone to find out about it. Thus, who ever performed
this transition was going to have to keep silent as
well.


My second objective was to
assume an entirely new identify. Ironically, that was probably the
easiest of all to execute—just a matter of checking out court
records and locating the right name of the right person, then
obtaining a birth certificate.


My third objective, having
gotten my new face and name, was to actually make myself
become
this new person. This was not easy, to say the least,
but I was quite determined. I stayed in Europe after the surgery
because I realized that the most effective way to dramatically
change my speech, mannerisms and personality was to get saturated
in a totally different environment other than the one I’d been
accustomed to. Europe is so wonderful, Ann—so different from the
States. The people there have a lot of class and impeccable manners
for the most part, unlike we Americans. I assumed a sort of
aristocratic demeanor, a rich American who knew how to live the
good life. I traveled extensively around the continent, carefully
observing the people and absorbing their more appealing qualities
and making them my own. I got pretty good at it, as you already
know.


By now, you’re probably
asking yourself why I did all of this. What was the purpose? The
answer is simple. Besides the fact that I hated being Stanley
Jenkins and wanted to eliminate him, I also wanted something else.
Or more precisely,
someone
else. I still wanted
you
,
Ann. I figured that if I change myself that you would accept me and
that I could finally realize my dreams.”

Jenkins stared at Ann expectantly,
studied her reaction. Ann squirmed on the stool and looked
away.


I had heard that you’d
married Sam not long after graduation and I almost hated you for
that. But I didn’t. I decided that I’d follow through with my plan
and let fate take its course. I am a fatalist, you see. I came back
to the States in January and did some surveillance, discovered that
you were still with Sam Middleton and had a daughter. So I decided
to buy this place and ride out the tide. Then fate entered the
picture this spring. You and Sam got divorced. I sat around and
waited to see what you were going to do, and to my surprise and
delight you moved to Columbus. My course was suddenly set: I would
eliminate everyone who had ever stood in my way of getting to you.
Then, I’d make my ultimate move.”

Ann started sobbing hysterically.
Jenkins walked over and gently placed his hand on her shoulder,
causing her to flinch.


Don’t cry, Ann. It’s only
going to make things worse.”

He stroked her hair, still damp from
the hot tub, and said,” I truly am sorry that it had to turn out
this way, Ann. But I half suspected it would and as a result am
going to have to resort to my backup plan. I should have known
better than to think you were any different than the others anyway,
and it only goes to show that I am not infallible. But all is not
lost, by any means. I’ll be able to say goodbye to Stanley Jenkins
for good after tonight. And believe me, that will be quite a weight
off my shoulders.”

He stepped back and looked her over,
then said, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you, Ann. I’ll
have a plane to catch in a few hours and I’ve already wasted enough
time telling you my life story. But I felt you had a right to know
what I’ve just told you, and besides that, I’ve not been
particularly looking forward to putting an end to your existence.
But life goes on, Ann. I have no choice in the matter.
Unfortunately, I can’t let you live and still walk out of here a
free man. I do hope you understand.”

His directness caught Ann off guard and
sobered her thoughts. Suddenly, her will for survival superseded
everything else.

She had to get away. At least stall him
somehow for now. At least give him a goddamn fight!


Please let me live,
Stanley. I promise that …”


The name is Jerry Rankin,
Ann, remember? We’re through with Stanley now.”


I beg you, Jerry,” Ann
pleaded. “Please don’t kill me. I promise that I won’t tell a soul
any of this. You can leave the country, or go wherever you’re
going, and I’ll pretend that this never happened!”

He laughed heartily and Ann knew that
she’d said the wrong thing. “It’s not going to work, Ann. You’re
going to have to give me a better offer than that.”

Ann knew what he was implying. “I’ll do
anything, Jerry! Please, just let me go—Amy needs me!”

He grinned, then replied, “You should
have thought of that before, Ann. You had your chance but you blew
it.”

He removed the bloodied towel and
looked at it, tossed it to the floor and stared directly into Ann’
s eyes. “And look at what you did to me! Cut my fucking face with
that wine glass! Yet here you are, standing there half naked and
all blurry eyed, begging me to spare your fucking life. After you
fucking cut me? Do you know how many goddamn stitches it’s going to
take to fix my face? Christ, Ann—sorry to say it but you’re not in
a very good negotiating position right now.”

Suddenly, Dr. Jeckyl turned into Mr.
Hyde.

He grabbed her by the arm, flung her
down on the floor and was on top of her in a flash. He started
yanking down her swimsuit bottoms as Ann pummeled his chest with
her fists, her legs thrashing wildly.


No more time to negotiate,
Ann. I’m going to fuck you, then I’m going to kill you.”

Ann fought back fiercely. She managed
to rake her fingernails over the fresh wound on his face, causing
him to let out a blood-curdling howl. He stopped dead for a second,
stared at her with eyes that wanted to kill, and ripped off her
bathing suit in one quick, effortless motion. Ann screamed in
terror and struck him in the face again. He gaped at her
maniacally, as though he couldn’t believe what had just happened,
then brought back his hand to strike her—

They both heard the voices at the same
time. They were coming from downstairs—muffled and unintelligible,
but getting louder. A look of absolute horror came over Stanley’s
face as he froze in his tracks and cocked his head, listening,
covering Ann’s mouth in his hand. Ann could hear her heart beating
wildly and watched as drops of blood ran down Stanley’s cheeks and
plopped onto one of her breasts.

The loft floor vibrated from where the
steel staircase was attached to it as someone climbed up and
apparently stopped on the second floor.

Ann tried to scream but all that came
out was a muffled whimper into Stanley Jenkin’s hand. His face was
chalk white as he glanced first at the hatch, then over to the
balcony door, apparently trying to decide what to do next. All of a
sudden, the floor started vibrating again and they heard footsteps
coming closer. Stanley flinched as his eyes darted all around the
room. Total panic.

The footsteps ceased and they heard
someone shove hard against the door. Stanley leered at Ann
threateningly, tightening his grip over her mouth, daring her to
utter a sound. Someone banged on the door a couple of times and
tried to force it open.

There was a moment of silence, then the
sound of more footsteps coming up the stairs.


This is the sheriff’s
department, Rankin. We know you’re in there—open this door
immediately!” a muffled voice commanded.

Ann felt a huge wave of relief sweep
over her. She tried to scream again but Stanley’s hand stifled her.
He glared at her defiantly. Jenkins eyes darted over toward the
balcony again and he made a gesture for Ann to stand up.


We’re on to you, Stanley,
so give yourself up,” another voice said. Ann immediately
recognized that distinctive voice—it was Roger Hagstrom!


We’ve got your entire house
surrounded, so I suggest you open this door and let us do our job.
We don’t want anyone to get hurt.” Roger said.

What little color Stanley’s face had
drained away. He was kneeling now with one hand over Ann’s mouth
and the other over his wound. His eyes frantically surveyed the
room in a desperate effort to figure out his next move.

They both heard the sound of more
footsteps scurrying up the staircase.


Ann, are you in
there?”

It was Sam!

On impulse, Ann grabbed Stanley’s wrist
and wrenched his hand away from her mouth. “Sam!” she
cried.

In a flash, Jenkins slapped her hard on
the cheek and Ann slumped to the floor, reeling from the
blow.

BOOK: The May Day Murders
5.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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