The Night Stalker (42 page)

He went back to his comics, knowing that he had to be extra quiet now, but then he heard the door to his parents’ room being slammed shut with tremendous violence. His eye returned to the gap and his breath froze for several seconds. His father was standing by the shut door, but his face was almost unrecognizable, covered in so much rage it frightened Andrew down to his soul. His father’s hands, arms and shirt were soaked in blood. His mother was standing naked and paralyzed across the room from her husband.

‘Oh my God. What happened? Where’s Andrew?’ she asked, panic stalking her voice.

‘You don’t have to concern yourself with Andrew, you lying whore,’ Ray blasted in such an angry voice the room almost shook. ‘You should concern yourself more with your fucking lover.’

Emily hesitated.

‘I don’t think you’ll be fucking him any more.’ From his pocket he took something out. To Andrew it looked like a very bloody piece of meat.

Emily let out a strangled cry. ‘Oh my God, Ray. What have you done? What on God’s earth have you done?’ Her hands shot towards her open mouth in absolute terror.

‘I made sure that Nathan, that pathetic excuse for a man, will never wreck another home again.’ He smiled a satanic smile. ‘I also made sure that he won’t be able to say a word when he meets his maker. You could say that his lips are sealed.’ He took two steps in Emily’s direction.

She took one pace back and tried to cover her body with her hands.

‘Why did you have to do it, Emily? Why did you have to destroy our family? Why did you have to betray my love this way? Why did you have to make me do these things?’ Spit flew from Ray’s mouth. He returned the bloody piece of meat to his pocket. ‘Do you remember what we used to say to each other?’ He didn’t wait for a reply. ‘We used to say –
You are the one, honey. You are the one I’ve been looking for all my life. You are my soul mate. We’ll never be apart because you are the person I want to spend the rest of
my life with.
Do you remember that?’

Silence.

‘ANSWER ME.’

Ray’s yell was so loud and full of rage, Andrew immediately wet himself up in the attic.

‘Ye— yes.’ Emily had started crying and shivering so violently she was almost hyperventilating.

‘But I wasn’t the one, was I? You lied to me, you deceitful bitch. You made me believe that what we had was sacred . . . special . . . everlasting. But it wasn’t, was it? I wasn’t enough for you.’

Emily’s lips wouldn’t move.

‘Was he the one?’ Ray asked. ‘Was Nathan the one for you?’ He moved a step closer. Emily’s back was against the wall. She had nowhere else she could go. ‘Did you love him?’

No reply.

‘Did. You. Love. Him . . . ?’ Something changed in Ray’s entire demeanor, like someone else was taking over. Someone beyond evil.

Emily’s voice was completely gone. Her vocal cords frozen by sheer fear. In a reflexive and thoughtless action, she nodded ever so slightly.

That was all Ray’s rage needed to erupt.

‘If that’s what true love means to you, then you should have it. You should have it inside you forever. You and him, together as one – forever.’ He moved towards her with such speed and purpose that not even an army of soldiers could have stopped him. His closed fist hit the side of her head with so much power she collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Above them, Andrew was petrified, too scared to respond, his voice had disappeared and his eyes had almost lost the ability to blink. His mind too young and naïve to cope with all the images. But he never moved. He never took his eye off the gap.

For the next hour Andrew watched the monster inside his father surface.

Ray dragged Emily’s body to the bed and tied her down. He then grabbed a long piece of thick black thread and a needle, and proceeded to meticulously stitch her mouth shut. He retrieved whatever strange piece of bloody meat he had with him, spread Emily’s legs apart and forced it into her before stitching her shut. Ray then used her blood to write something on the wall. The letters were big enough for Andrew to be able to read them – HE’S INSIDE YOU.

Ray tipped the bed on one end so his wife was in a standing position and pushed it against the far wall.

Tears streamed out of Andrew’s eyes.

From the box on top of the wardrobe, Ray took his double-barreled shotgun, sat on the floor directly in front of Emily, crossed his legs, rested the shotgun on his knees and waited.

He didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later Emily opened her eyes. She tried to scream but the stitches on her lips kept most of the sound trapped inside her body. Her disbelieving eyes rested on her husband’s face.

He smiled at her.

‘Was this what you wanted, Emily?’ His tone had changed – serene, understanding, as if he’d suddenly found eternal peace within himself. ‘This is all your fault. And I hope you rot in hell for it.’ Ray tilted his head back and placed the barrels of the shotgun under his chin. His finger tightened its grip on the trigger.

Emily convulsed in anticipation of what was about to happen, and in realization of what Ray had done. He’d lost his mind completely. She was certain he’d killed their son, her lover. The contents of her stomach catapulted into her mouth and were blocked by Ray’s stitching. She panicked and started to choke. Oxygen couldn’t find its way into her lungs.

With his head tilted back, Ray took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. And on that last fraction of a second just before the shotgun hammers were released, he saw them. Hidden between the wooden ceiling boards. He saw them because the light reflected on them and they blinked.

He saw his son’s terrified eyes staring straight down at him.

She woke up but didn’t open her eyes. She knew she hadn’t been unconscious for too long – five, ten minutes maximum. As the damp cloth was pressed against her nose and mouth back at her front door, she recognized the characteristic smell straight away – ether. She also realized that in her crouched position, ambushed by a surprised attack coming from behind her, and against an opponent that was certainly stronger than she was, fighting would have been pointless.

Instinct immediately kicked into action. As soon as she realized that her attacker was using an anesthetic to subdue her, she knew exactly what kind of reaction he’d be expecting from her. She played along, holding her breath for as long as she could and faking a struggle. Her initial mouthful of ether would no doubt knock her out, but not for too long. If she could act convincingly enough that she was fighting her attacker and gasping for air, he would believe that she’d taken in enough breaths to render her unconscious for a long while.

It worked.

Her assailant didn’t hold the cloth to her nose for longer than twenty-five seconds, believing she was under.

Now, Captain Blake remained totally still and silent. She could hear the rattling of a car engine. She felt the hard floor under her vibrate and bump every so often. She opened her eyes very slightly to get a better idea of her environment. There was no doubt: she was lying down in the dark back cabin of a van, speeding somewhere. Her hands were tied behind her back, but her feet weren’t restrained. That could give her a chance. Her cell phone and handbag were gone – no surprise there.

For now she knew there was nothing she could do but wait.

She had always been very in tune with her mind’s clock. She figured they had driven for about an hour before they came to a complete stop. The van seemed to be moving at a reasonable speed for most of the journey, which meant that somehow they’d managed to avoid most of the stop-start traffic Los Angeles was so famous for. Wherever he’d taken her, she was pretty sure it was somewhere out of town.

She heard the driver’s door open and then slam shut. He was coming for her. It was show time.

She quickly slid down towards the back door, getting as close to it as she could. She would only have one chance at this. She brought her knees close to her chest and waited. This time the element of surprise was on her side. She heard the doors being unlocked and prepared herself.

As the doors opened, she kicked out as hard as she could. Her feet thundered against her captor’s chest. For the first time in her life she wished she had worn stiletto heels to work.

As she’d predicted, it caught her captor totally by surprise. It knocked the breath out of him and sent him tumbling backwards, straight to the ground.

She threw her body forward and pushed herself to the edge of the van’s back cabin. Her legs were shaking so hard from fear and adrenalin she was unsure if she’d be able to stand up. As she fought to steady them and jumped out of the van, her eyes quickly scanned her surroundings. The van was parked in front of a large old building, but there was nothing else around except wasteland, unkempt vegetation and the narrow road they’d obviously taken to get there.

Her gaze dropped to the floor and fear rose in her throat like a tsunami. Her captor was gone.

‘Fuck!’

Panic took over and she started running in the direction of the road, but she didn’t have the proper shoes for it and her hands were still tied behind her back. All she managed was an awkward, wobbly dance for a few strides before her legs were hooked from under her with amazing force and precision. She hadn’t even heard him come up behind her again.

She hit the ground hard with a thud, shoulder first, then head. Her vision blurred and all she could see was a figure towering over her.

‘So, clever bitch wants to play rough, huh?’ His voice was calm but very menacing. ‘Well, check this out.’

His fingers closed into a fist.

‘It’s pain time, whore.’

Whitney Myers checked her watch before answering her cell phone after the third ring.

‘Whitney, I’ve got some information for you,’ Leighton Morris said in his usual overexcited voice. Morris was another of Myers’ LAPD contacts, who she called upon every now and then when she needed inside information.

‘I’m listening.’

‘That detective you asked me to keep an eye out for, Robert Hunter . . . ?’

‘Yeah, what about him?’

‘He boarded a plane early this morning.’

‘A plane? Where to?’

‘Healdsburg in Sonoma County.’

‘Sonoma County? What the hell? Why?’

‘That I don’t know. But it’s certainly something to do with the case he’s investigating at the moment, which by the way, is very hush-hush.’

‘He left this morning, you said?’

‘That’s right, and he just booked a return ticket for this afternoon.’ There was a brief pause. ‘Actually, he should be boarding pretty soon.’

Myers checked her watch again. ‘Into LAX?’

‘You got it.’

‘Do you have the flight details?’

‘Right here.’

‘OK, text them to me.’

She disconnected and waited.

There were no delays, and Hunter landed at LAX right on schedule. With no luggage to collect, he walked through the gates just minutes after touching down. Garcia was already there, waiting for him with a folder under his arm.

‘Are you parked on a meter?’ Hunter asked.

Garcia pulled a face. ‘Are you crazy? This is official business. We’ve got perks.’

Hunter smiled. ‘OK, let’s grab a coffee and I’ll run you through everything I got. Anything from Operations or the research team yet?’

‘Not a scrap so far. I just checked with them.’

They found an isolated table towards the back of the Starbucks in Terminal One. Hunter proceeded to tell Garcia all he found out about the Harpers. He told him about Andrew’s secret place in the attic and the peepholes. He told him about the self-harming and that he was sure that Andrew had somehow survived and witnessed everything that happened that day, twenty years ago. After that, Andrew had vanished.

‘If his father was that brutal, how did Andrew survive?’

‘I don’t know exactly what happened that day. No one does except Andrew. But he’s alive. And the pressure cooker in his head finally blew.’

‘You mean something triggered it?’

Hunter nodded.

‘And there were no pictures of him whatsoever?’

‘I couldn’t find any. It’s a small town, small school. Back then the school’s yearbook only featured high-school students. Andrew was in fifth grade when it happened.’ He rubbed the scar on his nape. ‘I think we were right about the killer using projection and transference together with a deep love for the person the victims remind him of.’

‘His mother. The person he loved the most at that age. The person he’d never hurt, no matter what.’

‘No matter what.’

‘Oedipus complex?’

‘I don’t think he was in love with his mother in a romantic way, but he was a very shy kid with few friends. His parents were everything to him. In his mind, they could do no wrong.’