The St. Paul Conspiracy (27 page)

“See you boys later?” Mac said to Rock and Riles.

“Yeah, party tonight over at the Pub,” Riley replied, “And you all will be there.” It wasn’t a question. “Anyone who doesn’t show will be summarily shot. We deserve a little celebration.”

* * * * *

Bouchard slid the card into the reader, saw the light turn green and pushed his way into the tenth-floor hotel room. Hennessey, Hagen, and Skogman were with him and carried in their equipment.

Skogman opened the shades, and Bouchard looked out the window.

Hennessey came up behind and looked out as well. “This should work.”

“Agreed,” Bouchard replied. “Let’s get set up.”

* * * * *

Mac had driven by Knapp’s driveway many times over the last ten days. It felt odd to finally turn in and go up to the house. The Hudson cops were already there, with the crime scene tape up and lights flashing everywhere. A few curious onlookers were hanging out down on the county road, gawking.

Knapp’s farmhouse was maintained to military cleanliness on the main level and upstairs. The furniture was plain, vintage seventies in color and style, but well kept. The personal effects were sparse, except for a few family photos. There was nothing unusual, at least until they went down to the basement.

As they went down the stairs to the basement, it looked and smelled just like a farmhouse cellar. Dark, dusty, filled with crates, boxes, assorted junk with a musty smell, like old potatoes. However, under the steps was an old oak plank door that opened into the back foundation wall. Behind the door was a room underneath the four-season porch. Mac estimated it at fifteen by fifteen. Knapp had kept the room sealed with a combination lock, which now sat on the floor in two pieces, victimized by a bolt cutter.

The room was partially furnished with a television, desk, and computer. Above the desk was a shelf, which contained half a used box of Trojan condoms, the kind used in each killing. There was also a box with the balloons. Knapp had one of each in the van the night before. However, that wasn’t what really caught his attention.

On the left wall was a bulletin board, a monument to Knapp’s work. The bulletin board was filled with news clippings, pictures, maps, and diagrams. It wasn’t too different from the bulletin board they had in the detail conference room. In a disjointed way, it told the story of what Knapp had been doing for the last couple of months. It was altogether creepy and fascinating at the same time.

Mac started from the left, was a third of the way down, passively looking at the clippings, when Lich came up to him. “Weird, huh?”

“Yeah. Creepy. It’s as if in his own warped mind, he was creating his masterpiece or something.”

“FBI profile said the guy might keep some sort of journal,” Patrick added. “This qualifies.”

“I’d say so,” Lich replied.

They stood in silence for a few moments, gazing at the wall.

“There’s a piece missing here,” Patrick said.

“Missing?” Mac asked.

“Yeah, nothing about Jamie Jones.”

Mac checked his memory, that was one of the victim’s names wasn’t it? “Jones... yeah... which... one was she?”

Patrick gave Mac a stern look.

“Hey, Dan, the day Dick and I got on the case, we had the seventh one. I didn’t even have a chance to go through all the files. Never really did because we got on Knapp so quick.”

Patrick nodded, remembering the sequence of events.

“Tell me about Jones,” Mac asked.

“She was the fifth victim. Killed on Halloween.”

“Oh, I remember,” Mac replied. “That was the day we picked up the Daniels case. So, what was her story?”

“She was the CFO at some local company.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We found her by the Capitol. Just like all the others, though. Vacant lot behind O’Neill’s Bar. Balloon tied to her. Sexually assaulted. There was Trojan rubber residue. The whole nine yards.”

“Copycat?” Mac asked.

“We kind of wondered about that, but the killing was identical. You can look at the file on it. It had all the characteristics of Knapp’s work. It’s the same in all the details.”

“Everything?” Lich asked.

“Everything,” Patrick replied.

“Then why nothing on Jones?” Mac asked.

“I guess we’ll have to ask Knapp.” Patrick replied.

* * * * *

Riles pushed Knapp’s head down and eased him into the back of a Crown Victoria and then joined him in back. Rock was in the front passenger seat, sitting next to Frank Franklin, another member of the detail along for a little limelight. It would be a short five-minute drive over to the courthouse.

Rock, never one to allow for a quiet ride, asked Knapp, “Get yourself a lawyer yet?”

“Yeah. Legal aid.”

“Thought you weren’t going to put up with one of those?”

“Don’t expect I’ll have to for long. But you all are trying to get plenty of publicity on this, so I don’t have much of a choice right now.”

* * * * *

Bouchard’s radio crackled with Hansen’s voice. “They just pulled out. Right on time. They’re going south on St. Peter.”

“Copy that,” Bouchard replied, then to Hagen, “Do it.”

Hagen was sitting at the desk with two laptops. The laptops had the security cameras of the second and third levels of the Vincent Ramp. A key stroke caused an almost imperceptive blip on the cameras on the left laptop, while the right remained constant. A minute later, Viper appeared on the right laptop, making his way to the southwest corner of the third level of the ramp. The left laptop, which the ramp security cameras were currently seeing and recording, showed the same location without Viper.

* * * * *

Viper moved into position and kneeled down between two mini-vans. The vans, parked in the last two spots on the southeast corner of the parking ramp, provided him cover from anyone driving through the ramp. His position was kitty corner from the front of the courthouse. He had a good field of fire, with an excellent view of the sidewalk area and the forty-foot walk to the front doors of the courthouse.

He took one last look out over the street and to the sidewalk in front of the courthouse. A crowd was gathering, waiting for the arrival of the University Avenue Strangler and his arraignment. All of the local television stations were there, reporters making a last check of their hair, and cameramen doing the same with their equipment. All were kept away by a police barricade, creating a fifteen-foot wide walkway into the courthouse.

He kneeled down and opened his case, which was designed to look like one for a laptop. Inside was his sniper rifle, which he quickly assembled, the last pieces being the silencer and the scope. Three bullets were slid in, two in the magazine and one in the chamber. He locked it in. He slipped a black mask down over his face, which matched his black coat, pants, and thin black gloves. His earpiece came to life.

“They’re two blocks out.”

“Copy that,” he replied. He peered just over the edge, and a minute later saw the parade approach in the form of two unmarked Crown Victoria’s.

* * * * *

“Cripes, what a crowd,” Rock stated, noticing all of the media and people in front of the courthouse.

“Lots of hair spray and makeup,” Riles replied. “Make sure to smile for the camera as we walk in. Let the media see that big gap in your teeth.” An evil grin spread across Riles’s face.

“Keep it up, and I’ll give you one to match,” Rock retorted.

Laughing, Riles got out of the back left of the car, and Rock exited the front passenger side, opening the rear door. Riles leaned into the car and helped lift Knapp up out of the car and onto his feet. “We’re just going to head right on in,” he said to Knapp, who simply nodded.

“Let’s go.” Rock lightly grabbed the back of Knapp’s left arm and Riles had the right.

* * * * *

Lich called down to them. “Hey, guys, come on up. They got it on TV. Riles and Rock are about to walk Knapp into court.”

Mac, Patrick, and several others gathered around the TV in Knapp’s living room.

“Lot’s of media,” Lich remarked.

“Just in time for the noon news,” Mac replied. “The whole town’ll be able to see this.”

* * * * *

Viper had them in the scope as they lifted Knapp out of the backseat. He wanted them a little more to his left for a slightly better firing angle.

He looked through the scope with his right eye, his finger on the trigger. “Don’t hit the black cop,” he said to himself, training the crosshairs on Knapp. They were moving now, away from the car, the black cop on his left arm, Riley on the right. Forty-feet to the courthouse. As they moved towards the courthouse, the firing angle improved, Knapp’s head was no longer obscured. The assassin exhaled and squeezed the trigger.

* * * * *

Riles felt something hit the back of his head, moist, he reached with his right hand and felt it. Bringing it around to his eyes it was red, and Knapp was suddenly heavy in his left arm. He looked at Knapp, slumped over now, a large red hole where the back of his head used to be. Riley realized his left side was covered in blood.

People saw it now, the blood, Knapp down. Panic set in as bystanders started screaming, running or hitting the ground.

“Where did it come from?” Riley heard Rock yell, looking back and to the east.

People were pointing in all different directions, at the various buildings and parking ramps in the area. Chaos broke out as uniforms ran up to Riley checking on him. Others had weapons drawn, scanning the area for the shooter. Riles heard another uniform yelling into a radio for backup.

“Pat, you hit?”

Riles was unresponsive.

“Are you hit?” Rock asked again, grabbing Riles on the left arm.

Riles, getting his head together, “N... n... no. I think it’s just Knapp’s blood.” He was coated in it.

* * * * *

“Direct hit,” Bouchard said matter of factly, looking down on the area with a high-powered set of binoculars.

“His head’s turned to mush,” Hennessey confirmed.

“Viper move. Subject’s down,” Bouchard ordered into the radio. “Switch it when he gets to the skyway,” he said to Hagen.

* * * * *

Bouchard needn’t have bothered with the order. Viper saw the hole in the back of Knapp’s head. Quickly down on a knee, out of sight from the outside, he pulled the rifle apart and put it into the case. He was on the move in ten seconds, a black blur, moving between the vans, across the parking lot, towards the stairway.

Through the stairway door, he was quickly down one flight of steps to the skyway level. He pulled at the Velcro collar on his coat and it opened into a sport coat, with an open-collared white button-down-collar shirt. The stocking cap was off, replaced by a hounds-tooth driving cap. A fake beard concealed his face, along with a pair of stylish tinted glasses. While walking towards the skyway, he flipped his case over, so the outside looked like canvas. An empty Starbucks cup fished out of the case finished off the ensemble. As he walked out to the skyway, and into surveillance camera view, he blended in and looked like any one of a thousand people walking downtown over the noon hour.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“We got ourselves another Lee Harvey Oswald?”

The van pulled up to the curb in front of the Vincent Ramp, and Mac, Lich, and Patrick piled out. It had taken them fifteen minutes to get back downtown from Knapp’s place in Hudson. Their fears had been put to rest on the way in, when it was confirmed that other than Knapp, nobody else had been hit. Rock and Riles were okay, which was what they were most concerned about. Riles had gone back to the station to get cleaned up from Knapp’s blood.

The three of them moved up the steps to the third level where they found Rock and two other detectives in the southeast corner of the ramp, looking back towards the courthouse. Rock saw them coming and walked over.

“Christ, what a mess.”

“What the hell happened?” Lich asked.

“We think a sniper hit Knapp from the corner area over there.”

“Why here?” Mac said, not seeing anything indicating otherwise.

“Somebody claims they saw a muzzle flash from up here.”

“Anybody hear the shot?” Lich asked.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Rock replied. “Probably had some sort of silencer.” Rock wiped his shaved head with his hand. “I gotta tell ya, we’re out of the car, walking Knapp in, and next thing I know he’s slumped down and Riles is coated in blood.”

Mac walked over to the corner between two mini-vans and looked out over the street towards the courthouse. It was a shot of maybe a hundred yards. The spot provided a good field of fire towards the front of the courthouse. If a person were going to take a shot, this was a pretty good place. Nonetheless, it took pretty good aim and a steady hand to make the shot, Mac thought.

Lich walked up behind him. “We got ourselves another Lee Harvey Oswald?”

“We got someone who was a pretty good shot,” Mac replied.

“Don’t look that far to me,” Lich said.

“Rock, how many shots?” Mac asked.

“Only one I think.” Rock replied.

“One shot from here, not bad,” Mac said. “Probably a scope, with a silencer, a pro job?”

“Who knows? Hell, you can get a scope and silencer for a hunting rifle,” Rock replied.

“Any of the victims of this guy... they got family members maybe who hunt or are good with a rifle?” Mac asked.

Rock shrugged, “Don’t know.”

“How long before you guys were up here?”

Rock grimaced. “Probably three or four minutes at best. It was pretty chaotic. The person who saw the muzzle flash didn’t get to us for a minute or two. Then we ran over, but whoever did it was long gone by then.”

“Where to? Where do you go from here?” Lich asked.

“There’s a stairway to the skyway, there’s another stairway down to the street. They might have jumped into a car in the ramp and left. Hell, they could have taken the elevator down, although I doubt it. We’re pulling the surveillance cameras. We’ll see what we find,” Rock replied.

“No rest for the weary,” Lich replied. “I thought we were going to get some days off.”

“We are,” Rock answered. “Chief’s already got a whole group down here looking at it. He says we’re off it. We’ve done enough. If they need to know anything about the families, they’ll ask us, but otherwise we’re done. We finish up some loose ends tomorrow, then we all get the rest of the week off.”