Serial Separation (24 page)

Chapter 61

Mike Miller
arrived at the hospital, flashing his credentials to the Lowell police on guard
in the emergency room waiting area. He did not see Gil Pike, so he asked for
him. One of the guards said something to another patrolman, who left the area.
Mike waited at least five of the longest minutes of his life . . . well, other
than when his wife was giving birth.

Gil came running
into the waiting area. “We need a doctor now, help . . . help us, please.”

Mike saw the
frustrated look on Gil’s face, knowing it wasn’t good news.

“Can I help,
Gil?”

Gil took off
running through the doors again, followed by a big male nurse. Mike decided in
all the confusion to just join in. The PA system was announcing a Code Blue in
the ER.

They ran down a
small hall, turned, and tried to enter the small exam room. Mike could see a patient
with many wires attached. Several people in hospital scrubs surrounded him. There
was a flurry of activity. The guy, he could tell, was totally naked, covered in
blood from his neck to his groin.

He was
convulsing. A blue cart was wheeled in; the ‘all clear’ was sounded, followed
by a loud thump. The process was repeated several times. Soon, the only sound
in the room was the shrill of one of the monitors. The male nurse turned off
the machine on doctor’s orders. They pronounced him dead at 10:10 p.m.

Gil turned and
left the room with Mike following.

“What happened,
Gil?”

“Mike, we’re
sorry. They should never have brought these guys to the same hospital. When
Jason’s gang learned this guy was taken here, they found him and used a scalpel
to open him up. The guy didn’t have a chance.”

“We have all of
them in custody now, but in all of the confusion, treating them . . . well . .
. we know now what should have happened.”

“Gil, did he say
anything before he was murdered?”

“His words were
something like, ‘Jason was going to get what he deserved. He only wished he
could help cut him apart, but the women will do him just fine.”

Gil added, “You
know, this isn’t going to end. We’re going to have a gang war. There’s going to
be blood in the streets of both cities.”

“We may not have
anyone left to tell us where they took Jason. Right now, Mike, I’m more worried
about the war. I’m going to check on things here and then roll out the troops.
Happy fucking New Year!”

* * *

Mike waited for
Paddy to arrive. Mike had just returned to the waiting area when Paddy was
coming through the front entrance. One look at Mike and Paddy knew it wasn’t
good news. “From the look on your face, there’s no good news.”

“No, Paddy. They
took the wounded gang members from both gangs here. When some of Jason’s gang
learned where the other gang member was . . . well, they dissected him like
those frogs in high school. He’s gone, and he didn’t provide any information.
He did confirm that women are indeed doing these torso slayings.”

Paddy shook his
head. “I just hate to make this call, but I have to alert the AG about what
went down and what might happen next. He’ll bring in the State Police for sure
now. If we can’t locate where they took Jason, we’ll have the fourth torso
slaying. Not counting how many were killed in this shoot-out.”

He looked out
into the front of the hospital. “Mike, the press is already setting up outside,
so I have to make the AG call right away. What are your plans now?”

“There’s nothing
more Paul and I can do here. We’ll head to the task force office and put up
there for the night. I just thought about something—Mercedes and Scott are
still checking out places. I hope they don’t run into trouble.”

“Wouldn’t that
make great press if they wound up getting hurt or worse. I’ll see you when I
get to the office—if I still have a role to play,” Paddy said shaking his head.

Mike located
Paul, and they headed back to Cambridge. Paul slammed his hand on the dash.
“What a way to start the New Year.”

Chapter 62

Their cars were
hidden by the side gate to the building. None of the women showed any sign of
hesitation regarding what they were about to do—or regret for what was already
done.

They had
established their routine. All four women gathered in the display area on the
second floor, silent in their individual thoughts. They stared at their
trophies, reminding them of what they and their families had endured.

She liked the
process, maybe even more than the actual revenge. Carole had missed out on her
revenge, with the mistaken kidnapping of Jason’s cousin Jeremy. She named the
expected Jason delivery ‘Christmas Carole.’ With each passing minute, their
stimulation was building, like a pack of wolves anticipating the kill. After
three kills, was it revenge, or the kill itself?

She was glad
Carole reminded them that this was not a random killing—this was something
justified by what Jason and his gang had done to her younger sister.
If the
system doesn’t allow justice, they had to wield it,
She thought.

Carole also
indicated she was ready to convey his justice but sorry she could do it only
once, since her family’s life was hell.

The gang members
had taunted her sister, and even Carole. Jason knew exactly how the families
would react, how safe their gang was, and would be committing other rapes. Her
family didn’t want the publicity of the rape. The police couldn’t do anything,
since the families would not press charges.

Carole bellowed,
“This weekend, Jason will confess each rape and every rape, or suffer the
consequence.”

She thought of
the contrast Jason would provide. All the others were white. She wondered if
the Calumet gang would be successful, finding and taking Jason from his gang’s protection.
Earlier, she communicated that should they bring more than Jason, they would be
paid an additional amount for each delivered member. However, they had to be
alive.

She was
concerned about what condition Jason would be in. They were a scary bunch, but
they liked the money way too much to kill Jason before he was delivered.

Her thoughts
were interrupted by the now familiar sound of a body being dumped down the coal
chute. They immediately rushed into the freight elevator, taking the slow ride
to the basement.

It would be
mostly a sleepless weekend. Their bodies had, and would, tolerate the lack of
sleep, driven by the adrenaline rush provided by the new victim—or victims.

* * *

She recalled
their reflection in the display case just before the sound of the body
interrupted them.

She was taller
than the others, considering herself the most attractive. Her light complexion,
ample shape, and red hair made her stand out in a crowd. Bob had commented on
her beauty, and she would never forget it.

Jean was an
athletic blonde, Sandra a petite brunette, and Carole a black-beauty-pageant
queen. Carole’s sister was only fifteen when Jason’s gang raped her. She could
see Carole was like a panther ready to leap.

She hoped her ‘other
side’ would not interfere with the proceedings. She
was out now and
planned to stay out for the festivities. She owed her freedom to her good side,
but she was getting in the way too much, too often.

She remembered
her sister’s confusion, when her ‘other’ would appear. From the time she was
committed, her sister had been distant.
I don’t need no sister, and I sure
don’t need my other side . . . this is my time.
She could feel her body’s
excitement as the elevator reached the basement.

In the limited
light, they saw only one limp body. It was a large black man. She had only seen
the picture Carole had shown them. When they rolled him over—it was Jason.

Carole quickly
grabbed his hands to drag him, but she couldn’t even budge him. They all helped
drag him to the elevator. He was out cold. The elevator slowly rose, but Carole
quickly dropped on her knees.

She placed her
face right in his. “I’ve got you, you son of a bitch! You are going to regret
the day you were born. You’re going to regret ever raping Denise—and who knows
how many others.”

She watched
Carole punch him several times, smiling at her rage. She had felt the same
emotion when Bob was on the receiving end. The elevator hadn’t completed its
ascent yet, but Carole was already stripping his clothes.

They cheered her
on. He was filthy from the coal chute and coal bin. The black of the coal made
his body look much lighter. The elevator stopped, and Carole finished stripping
him.

He was starting
to come to, and she kicked him in the groin. He wasn’t conscious enough to feel
the pain. She offered, “Carole, he can’t feel the pain. Give it a few minutes.
Wait until he comes around—then you can let him have it.”

They helped drag
him across the rough wooden floor to the shower area. Carole put the rope
around his feet and tied his hands behind him. They watched as she tied the
blindfold around his eyes. She had the pleasure of cranking the winch to hoist
him up to the top of the rolling rack.

They all pushed
the rack into the shower area. She observed the others watching his body hang
upside down. Carole was breathing hard from the effort she had put in—or from
the excitement of finally having him.

She could see
where Carole was looking and what she was going to do before she actually did
it. Carole reached out and grabbed his manhood. “This is never going to
penetrate any defenseless girl again.”

She couldn’t see
his eyes, but the struggling movement of his body told her he had just come to.

Carole removed
her hand, knelt, and whispered in his ear. “Welcome, Jason. Do you remember
raping little Denise Daniels? This weekend is for her and all the others you
and your filthy gang raped.” She barely saw her hand strike out, but she heard
the force of it—and his painful response.

Carole was
almost ripping her own clothes off. They knew it was time to join her.

Carole yelled in
his ear. “That, Jason, is only the beginning!”

* * *

The cold spray
must have increased Jason’s awareness of his plight. He knew now there were
several women scrubbing his body with brushes, but it was only Carole’s voice.

They knew he was
trying not to utter any sound, but the pain must have been too much. She studied
Carole, who was like a wild animal, and wondered if Carole was going to remove
his skin in the process.

The cold water
must have blocked out some of the pain, numbing his body. The pressure of the
hose caused him to spin. They knew his head would be throbbing from hanging
upside down.

Carole turned
off the hose. The only noise then was the sound of his body turning. She
thought Carole would have received enough satisfaction from the punishment to
his body, but she whipped the hose against his bare body. She thought she was
going to stop, but soon she had to stop her. His screams were too much even for
her.

They rolled him
through the other large door into the freezer area. Their wet feet stuck to the
cold metal floor, making it hard to push him in further. They hopped out,
closing the door. She watched their smiles in the reflection on the glass.

Carole was the
only one not smiling—she was crying. Within a couple of minutes, his body
turned from black, then a shade of white, and finally a hint of blue. He would
be frozen to death in a matter of minutes if they didn’t remove him. It was
Carole’s call. They waited, then they waited some more. Jason’s body was
hanging motionless.

She was cold
from the shower. Looking at Jason made her colder.
Was Carole just going to
end it like this, or would she—

Carole broke the
silence. “Let’s show him the display area now.”

She was glad,
but she wondered if he was already frozen. They started to roll him out, each
realizing Jason had blacked out, or worse.

Carole spoke up.
“Let’s bring him back into the shower and see if he’s still alive.” They
changed direction, some pushing on the rack and some pushing on Jason’s nearly
frozen body. Carole turned the hose back on him and he slowly came to.

He spoke for the
first time. “I’m sooo cold. Jusst git it over with . . . kill meeeeee.”

“No, Jason. This
is Denise’s sister, Carole. We’re not going to kill you yet. That’s too good
for you. Your gang raped Denise all weekend; my gang is going to make you
regret you are a man . . . and it’s going to take us all weekend too.”

“Now that you’re
still alive, we’re going to show you your eventual fate. Ladies, let’s roll him
to the display area.”

She watched
Carole taunting him as they rode the elevator to the second floor. She didn’t
ever want to get on her bad side. They had carried their revenge for years. It
was obvious Carole was going to let it all out this weekend.

She had to
cringe as she watched what Carole was doing. This building was well suited for
their mission. No one could hear his screams in this building. She had done her
homework well.

They wheeled him
off the elevator over to the display cases. Carole winched him down to the
floor. The lights were off in the display case when they stood him up. She removed
his blindfold. He shook his head as he tried to focus. He would be able to see
their naked reflections in the glass, but for only a moment, before they
flipped the light switch.

He was shown the
first trophy and promptly threw up. They shuffled him to each trophy. Then they
showed him the empty area.

Carole whispered
to him, “This will be yours!”

Chapter 63

Earlier in the
evening, I had brought Mercedes home. She said she was having woman problems—cramps,
or something like that. I didn’t press the subject; I just brought her back to
her apartment. She looked distant and didn’t say much during the drive.

When we arrived,
she said she had my apartment phone number and the number for the task force
office. It wasn’t like her not to make a commitment for the balance of our
search, but I figured it was just something to do with her problem.

The listings
were still in the car, so I decided to head back out to check out some of the
remaining. We’d made progress earlier but still had many to do. I commented if
we would even know if the building was being used by the killers.

Mercedes said we
would know when we saw it.

I drove to the
next listing. It was near a popular seafood restaurant. I knew immediately it
couldn’t be used for the killings—the location was too busy.

I looked at the
listings again. There was a place near
Commercial
Wharf
. I decided to make that my next place to check out. It was about seven when I got
there.

The building was
an old, brick, two-story building set off by itself on a small pier. There were
no windows facing the parking area. I didn’t stop at the building but swung
around back from the direction I came.

The listing
indicated the building was a two-story, double-occupancy structure. Only one
side was available. The other had an active business. There were some things
about the listing that drew my attention: access to a pier, boat dock, and
storage areas including freezer capability.

I was not sure
what that meant.

I looked the
listing over, deciding to take a closer look on foot. I walked back to the
access drive, noticing a sign at the other end of the building. That meant the
side closest to me was the available portion. There were no windows on this
side of the building.

There was a high
double gate. I could see tire tracks in the snow leading under the gate. There
hadn’t been much traffic to speak of, maybe just a showing of the property.

I approached the
gate and looked through the opening between the wooden slats. The vehicle
tracks were not made by a truck, but maybe a car or small pickup. The area was
large enough to accommodate a few cars and protected from view by the fence.
There was a lock on the gate, so I decided this was close enough.

When I got back
to the car, I looked at the listing again. The listing details noted there were
two other similar available listings of the same construction. I didn’t want to
spend any more time in this area. I wanted to see if those listings were in our
pile.

I tried to start
the car, but it wouldn’t start. It must have been that dead spot in my starter.
It had been a problem on occasion but had been fine for days. Maybe there had
been too much stopping and starting today. Being Friday, I thought I should
check in with the task force. I tried to start the car again, but it just made a
clicking sound.

The building
gave me the creeps, but I didn’t think it was remote enough. My mind went to
the murdered men and recalled my naked dream. My heart was beating fast. I
looked back at the building but was far enough from it to be out of sight.

I felt the cold
for the first time. I closed my eyes, said a quick prayer, and tried turning
the key a couple of times. The engine must have heard my prayer because it roared
to life. I decided to check out the listings later and headed for the task
force office. This was enough for one day. I didn’t recall noticing multiple
similar listings like this one in the pile.

Could
Mercedes have pulled those listings out of the pile?
I thought.

* * *

The drive to the
task force provided adequate time to get my mind over activated. What if
Mercedes had purposely left those other listings out? Why did she crap out on
visiting the other properties tonight?
Maybe I should mention this to Mike
,
I thought. She never answered his question about what she really did weekends,
at least not in my presence.

I thought about
my stay at the cabin with her.
There’s no way she could have anything to do
with these murders. Or, is that why she made me uncomfortable from the start?
Should I really mention this to Mike? Maybe I should just see how the weekend
goes. Will Jason be kidnapped, or will it be prevented? If Jason is kidnapped,
I could call her. If she’s home, she couldn’t be involved.

I was still
dealing with the two missing property listings. Maybe Mercedes was never given
those listings in the first place. However, the general building description did
fit what we were looking for. A more remote location would be a perfect fit.

How can I find
those listings? I can’t just ask Mercedes for them. I need to mention this to
Mike. Maybe he, or Paddy, can pull some strings to find the property locations.

When I mention
this to Mike, he is going to reevaluate Mercedes. I’m closer to her than he is,
and I have questions about whether she concealed them. It’s also strange she
wanted to be excused from checking out properties tonight. Is there a
connection with Friday?

My assessment: she
was intelligent and capable of planning a way of kidnapping these men, having a
place to torture and kill them, and not be discovered. However, I saw her
sensitive side, and her honesty . . . I don’t believe she could kill anyone.

What if she
needed to get revenge?
I asked myself. She had said there was a rape in her
family. They had all had to deal with it, and it had been, in her words, ‘life
changing.’ She had even said she had nightmares about being tied up, naked,
molested, and tortured. However, she had not elaborated.

I still find it
hard to believe she could kill. She would have acted differently at the cabin. Could
Lisa have killed Jimmy if I hadn’t rescued her in time? I would bet my life she
could never kill anyone.

Am I betting
my life in Mercedes’ case?
I questioned myself.

I believe Mercedes
would have told me the details, if I had pressed her. I think she might have even
told me the details then if I had asked. And another thing—she had been spot on
with her profile of the killers.

If she was one
of the killers, she would know the facts. Instead of being a profiler, she
could have just listed facts.

I’d have to tell
Mike, I thought, and I knew he would pursue getting to the particulars. My
stomach was upset just thinking about what he would do, and how she would take
it. I felt like I was about to break a confidence.

What if it
saves a life?
I asked myself. Wasn’t that why I wanted to be connected with
the task force to begin with? To save the lives of people I knew. Was it? I had
played in that hockey league. What if my subconscious objective was to save my
own life? Is being a friend to Mercedes worth someone’s life?

No, it may be evidence,
and someone’s life could depend on it. I have to talk with Mike when I get to
the office.

* * *

It was after 11:00 p.m. when I arrived at the task force office. I expected bad news since every light
was on in the building. When I opened the door, I could hear loud voices coming
from the conference room. I headed back to see what was happening.

The room was
crowded; no one was smiling. Everyone was so busy, no one saw me arrive. Mike
was talking with Paul.

I walked over to
them. “Hi Mike, I’m here.”

He turned. “Oh,
Scott, I’m glad to see you.”

His response caught
me off guard. I just looked at both of them.

Mike elaborated.
“Jason was kidnapped by the Calumet gang. We were concerned you and Mercedes
were still looking at properties. Well, we didn’t want you two to be in the
wrong place at the wrong time. We speculate the gang is in the process of
delivering Jason to the women.”

I could feel my
stomach turning. “Mike, I need to discuss something with you—when you have a
chance.”

“Things are very
busy here. The Lowell police are about to raid Jason’s gang headquarters. One
of the kidnapping gang members was taken to the hospital, and Jason’s gang
learned he was there, and made a fillet out of him.”

He continued. “We
are anticipating a gang war between Jason’s gang and the Calumet gang. There
were some gang members killed, and some innocent bystanders wounded during the
shoot-out during Jason’s abduction.”

Mike added, “Oh,
we also have the Massachusetts and New Hampshire State Police trying to locate
Jeremy Johnston, who’s somewhere . . .I’m sorry, Scott . . . if what you have
is important?”

I could feel my
face flush. “You’ve got your hands full. When you get a chance, we can talk.
How do you want me to help?”

“Scott, we are
just glad you’re here safely. That’s a load off my mind.” He looked around the
conference room. “Where’s Mercedes?”

“Well . . . that
is what I need to talk with you about.”

* * *

The task force
members were all working feverishly. I just stayed out of their way. I just
hoped my making a new pot of coffee helped. I really needed a cup.
Maybe
even black, no sugar, I thought, the way Mercedes takes it.
Thinking of
her, I was wondering if I should try to call her before I talk with Mike. No, I
thought; if she was involved, there will be no answer. She might also avoid
answering at this hour.

I thought about
what Mike told me when I arrived. I might be able to find out where Jeremy went
by either talking with Lisa or Judy.

Oh, no. Lisa.
What had I planned to do this evening? Were we supposed to go out? I think not
getting much sleep, along with this activity, could be stressing me out. Maybe
I have to consider doing something else for a living?

Mike came over.
“Scott thanks for being patient. You can see it’s really hectic here. What did
you want to tell me?”

“I hope I can
remember all of it. First, I might be able to track down Jeremy by talking with
either Lisa or Dottie’s girlfriend, Judy. The State Police will most likely
find him, and even if I found out where he was going, he would still need to be
located.”

I took a deep
breath. “The second thing is more complicated.”

He looked like
he was not going to rush away any longer. “Really?”

“Mike, this is
just speculation, but I need to let you know. Please be patient with me while I
ramble.”

He nodded his
head, and I continued. “I think I found the type of building used for the
murders. Here’s the listing—I checked it out and it would fit the type of
facility we’re looking for. But this one is too close to other buildings, and
these women would draw too much attention.”

Mike had a
confused look.

I quickly
continued. “This listing mentions two other similarly designed buildings that
are available and not included in the package we received from Mercedes’
father. That’s the question. Why aren’t they in the listing package? Did
Mercedes eliminate them, or did someone in her father’s firm miss them, or
worse, eliminate them?”

“Where is
Mercedes?”

“She wasn’t
feeling well earlier tonight, so I returned her to her apartment. My mind’s
overactive, its Friday . . . could she be involved? Did she ever give you an
answer to what she did weekends?”

“Scott, I’m
surprised you’re mentioning all of this. You and Mercedes . . . well, you
seemed close.”

“My problem,
Mike, is, if she is involved and I don’t mention it, someone else might be
killed. One of the buildings referenced in this listing, but missing, might be
the listing where the men are being killed. If we found those listings, we
might be able to prevent Jason from being killed.”

“Well, Mercedes
did sidestep my question about what she really did weekends. She said she did
some private tutoring, but, to be honest, I’m with you—I can’t believe she
would be involved in these killings. Why would she get involved with the task
force?”

But, before I
could answer him, he answered it himself. “Well, she would know what we were
doing here.”

“Mike, she
related something to me . . . well, it was sort of confidential. There was a
rape in her family. She has nightmares regarding it. She said it involves being
tied up, naked, molested, and tortured. Could that ordeal give her the
motivation to seek revenge?”

Neither of us
said anything until I added, “I can’t tell you how awful I feel, just telling
you—but I had to. My involvement with the task force was to prevent people I
knew from being killed. Although I can’t say I liked Jason, I would never
forgive myself if I didn’t alert you.”

“Scott, I need
to follow up on this.” He got up. “Let me take it from here.”