Beyond the Mask Page 20

  “Frank.”

  Frank turned on Bentley. He could feel the heat in his face. “Answer my fucking question. You would have killed her. You would have cut her.”

  Hot tears were forming on Frank’s cheeks. He felt them and blinked them away. Bentley’s face remained calm, almost impassive.

  “I don’t know,” Bentley said. “I never chose a family that had a baby.”

  “Well I guess that qualifies you for fucking citizen of the year then doesn’t it?”

  Bentley blew out a sigh. “I answered your question, Frank. I don’t appreciate you continuing to attack me for my past. Especially for a crime I never actually committed.”

  “You never killed a baby?”

  “No,” Bentley said. “Karen was the youngest.”

  “But you didn’t care about killing her.”

  “Not at the time. Age didn’t seem to matter. It was simply what I had to do.”

  “You fucking people. You’re all monsters.”

  “Be angry if you want to be, Frank. Maybe you’re better when you’re angry, but be angry at the right person.”

  Frank said nothing. He turned back to the baby and looked into her eyes. She was coming to the tail end of the bottle. The formula had shrunk down to the nipple.

  “Sheriff.” Michaels called.

  Frank looked up.

  “She’s here. She’s here outside.”

  He stood up, still cradling the baby. “Tell her to come to the back door. I’m not going to try and walk through that mess holding the baby.”

  Michaels rolled his eyes. It was a quick thing, but Frank was sure that he saw it correctly. Then he disappeared outside the door again.

  Frank looked down at Bentley. “Stay here.”

  The back door opened out onto a large lawn. A few stunted trees were grabbing for purchase near the back fence line.

  The door opened and a blonde woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties walked in. She had round belly and large breasts which filled out the front of her pink blouse.

  Her hair was tied back in a bun revealing too much of her tiny face. All her features seemed to be just a half size too small. Her eyes were beady, her lips were tight and her nose was a tiny bump.

  “Hello, Sheriff,” she said. “I’m Emily Watson from social services. I’m here to take the child into custody.”

  She held her hands out for the baby, but Frank kept his grip on her.

  “She’s just eaten,” Frank said. “I don’t know how often they eat, but she just had a bottle.”

  “I can see,” Emily said.

  Frank looked down at the baby. The bottle was still in her mouth and her eyes had closed. The formula was gone, but she continued to suck air.

  “Right,” Frank said. He removed the bottle from the baby’s mouth and set it on the kitchen counter.

  “Can I have her?” Emily asked. Her hands were still outstretched.

  Frank looked down at the little girl, she was sleeping again and her warmth radiated out to him.

  His arms moved slowly out to Emily. He had only gotten halfway when she took a step towards him and snatched the baby from him. She laid her head over her shoulder and the baby uttered a loud belch.

  “Very good,” Emily said and patted the baby girl on the back.

  “You need to see if she has family,” Frank said.

  “Yes, of course,” Emily said. “Thank you for taking care of her Sheriff.”

  “Please keep in touch with me. You can call the office. I want to make sure that she’s taken care of.”

  Emily smiled. It was a professional smile. Frank recognized it.

  “I will do that.”

  Emily turned to the door.

  “Do you have a car seat?” Frank asked. He was talking to Emily, but he was looking at the baby.

  “I do. I need to take her now, please.”

  “Yes,” Frank said. “Of course, I know.”

  Emily walked out the door and he watched as she left. The baby’s face undulated softly against her shoulder as she walked.

  Then they were gone.

  III.

  Many of the officers had left to resume patrols. Frank was sure that Ellison wouldn’t strike again tonight, but he might still be out there, on his way to whatever lair he called a home.

  There were still several deputies left at the door when Frank walked back in from the kitchen. Bentley was still on the couch, separated from everyone.

  “Michaels,” Frank said. “Pick two of ‘em and send the rest of them on their way. Four of us are plenty to handle this.”

  Michaels pointed to Richards and a deputy named Tony Santiago. The rest of the deputies dispersed.

  Frank kneeled down next to the body nearest the stairs. Michaels joined him.

  Frank looked over at Bentley. The kid was standing now, at the edge of the carpeted area, but he came no farther. His eyes were focused on the body.

  Looking and not getting too close, Frank thought. For the best.

  To Michaels he said, “The stranger.”

  “Looks like it,” Michaels said. “Marked as a separate kill too.” He pointed to the index card on the man’s back.

  “Killed before he got here?” Frank asked.

  “Probably. Hard to tell in all this blood, but I don’t see any streaks. I don’t think he was dragged bleeding and he wasn’t alive when the other one was killed.”

  Frank nodded. He looked up at Roman who had his camera in his hands.

  “Get the pictures you need. Then get over here and bag that.”

  Frank pointed to the index card.

  Roman obliged, snapping shot after shot of the body. Different angles, made all the more difficult because he had to keep stepping into areas where blood hadn’t soaked the floor.

  When he was done, he deposited his camera back into his case and pulled out a baggie.

  Frank and Michaels shifted to the side to allow Roman to bend down and grab the index card. He placed his index finger on one side and his thumb on the other, careful not to touch the surface of the card even though he was wearing gloves.

  He put the card in the bag and sealed it. This he also deposited in his case.

  Frank turned to Michaels. “Let’s flip him over and see who we have here.”

  Michaels nodded and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. Frank hooked an arm around the dead man’s and they rolled him over. Michaels backed up a bit to avoid the body rolling onto him.

  “Oh dear Jesus,” Michaels said. His hand moved to his mouth.

  Frank looked at the face. There was a hunk of meat stuck in the man’s mouth. The end was raw with sinew. It had a plump and purplish look to it, almost bruised. Frank realized what it was. Not as quick as Michaels had, but he understood.

  “Better bag it,” Frank said.

  “First time for everything,” Roman said and leaned forward.

  He pulled the penis out of the man’s mouth and deposited it into a bag and sealed it.

  “What the hell,” Michaels said. “He’s getting sicker.”

  Frank ignored him. He was looking at the corpse’s face. It was one he had seen before and not too long ago.

  “Is him,” Roman said. “I remember.”

  “Who?” Michaels asked. He craned his neck to get a look at the face.

  Frank saw recognition dawn in Michaels’s eyes. “Well this is fucking great. I thought Ellison didn’t have anything to do with that.”

  “He didn’t do the killing,” Frank said. “But maybe he paid him. Or maybe it’s a message.”

  Frank looked back at the face. It was Albarn. The man who had murdered Warden Hatchet.

  IV.

  Frank stood outside as Roman and Michaels wrapped up the last sweep of the place. They had examined all the bodies and so far it was looking as if they had no more to go on than they did before.

  Bentley stood next to him, looking out at the street.

  “I know what we need to do next.”

 
“That so?” Frank asked.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “We’re done,” Michaels said.

  He walked out the front door with Roman in tow.

  “We get this all back to lab and then I be able to tell you something,” Roman said.

  “I hope you can,” Frank responded.

  The three of them watched Roman trot off towards his van, his case banging against his leg as he went.

  “I hope I never see anything like that again,” Michaels said.

  “You get used to it,” Frank said.

  He glanced over at Bentley who held a small smile-so unlike any expression he had seen from him before-as he looked out on the dark street.

  People had come from their homes. The lookers. People who wanted to see if there was blood and how much. They stood on their porches in their robes or their boxer shorts and watched the police talking. Some of them conversed with each other. Maybe throwing wild theories around.

  “I don’t know,” Michaels said. “I know you went through some shit when you were a detective and maybe you got used to it, but I don’t know if I ever will.”

  “I hope you don’t have to,” Frank said.

  Michaels’s eyes flicked to Bentley.

  “You want me to wait for the M.E.?”

  “No,” Frank said. “You need to go home and get some sleep. We’ll wait here.”

  Michaels started to walk off and then stopped. He turned back to Frank.

  “Albarn, what do you think that was about?”

  “I don’t know,” Frank said.

  “I believe the penis in the mouth is mafia slang for an informant,” Bentley said.

  Michaels stared at him for a long time. His tongue snaked out of his mouth and he licked his lips. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”

  Bentley smiled. “The most likely scenario, the way I see it, is that Ellison hired Albarn to kill Hatchet. Probably didn’t even cost much to do it. As I understand, Albarn was not a fan of the Warden’s.”

  “Then he threatened to talk,” Michaels said.

  “Maybe, or maybe Ellison just didn’t want to take the chance that he would talk.”

  “Or it could be something just to throw us off,” Michaels said.

  “No need to jump at shadows,” Frank said. “We’re trying to make sense of something that makes no sense at all.”

  Michaels smiled. “You seeing clowns to the left of you and jokers to the right?”

  “What?”

  “Never mind,” Michaels said. “I suppose we’ll have more answers in the morning. I’m going home.”

  He offered a half-wave and then got into his cruiser and drove off.

  Bentley leaned against the door frame. “We’re not going to get answers the way he’s thinking we’ll get them.”

  “What do you mean?” Frank didn’t look at him; he was still gazing at the looky-loo neighbors.

  “Driving around and trying to catch Ellison in the act. The man’s too sneaky. He knows how to evade you.”

  “How could he know that?”

  “I don’t know,” Bentley said. “I’m rather curious about that myself. It’s a neat trick. The point is that he came to this house, he dragged a body through the door, killed those two people and we didn’t discover it until he was in the wind. That’s all the proof I need.”

  Frank thought about this. Like most of what Bentley had said about this case it made sense. He had not just killed people, he’d smuggled a body and he’d done it with such ease right in the middle of their patrol.

  “Driving around and looking for him is just waiting for bodies to pile up. If you want five more bodies on your head, then we can continue to do that, but if you want to capture him then we need to try something else.”

  Frank now broke his gaze from the people and looked at Bentley. The kid was still leaned against the door frame. His arms were crossed over his chest and his smile had widened. He looked like the fox that had escaped the trap.

  “Five more bodies? Why five?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Bentley asked. His raised a fist in front of his face. “There are seven already.” He raised one finger. “Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.” With each number he raised another finger until all five of them were spayed in front of his face.

  “Twelve victims,” Frank said. Then it hit him. It felt as if all the air were rushing out of his body. “The crystals. Twelve numbers on a clock.”

  Bentley nodded. “Of course. Each crystal is a section from his watch. He must feel as if he’s got twelve kills in him. Or maybe, he plans on ending it all after the twelfth kill.”

  “No,” Frank said. His nails dug into the palms of his hand as he squeezed two hard fists. “We need to get him before that.”

  “Then we need to start looking at things in a different way. We need more information. We need to remember what we already know.”

  “You planning on going into the fortune cookie business, or are you going to tell me what you mean?”

  “All the kills have not been the same.”

  Frank thought about it. “That’s true. Sheila for one.”

  “Right. It could be a coincidence, but that just doesn’t seem correct to me. She was killed for a reason and it either had to do with me or you.”

  “You think Ellison has something against me?”

  “I don’t know. You did the background check on him.”

  “Nothing in his past to suggest that he knew either one of us.”

  “Maybe he was a fan of mine,” Bentley said. “I certainly learned from other serial killers. I studied them.”

  “So he wants you involved in this.”

  Bentley pushed off from the wall. “Maybe. There’s another murder that we’re forgetting though.”

  “Collins,” Frank said.

  “Bingo. A lone man, killed in an apartment, not a home. A man with index cards in his place. What the hell was that about?”

  Frank laced his hands behind his head and blew out a sigh. “I don’t know. We couldn’t find any family on him.”

  “He lived in an apartment, Frank. There’s one source we could go to that might know something.”

  “The super?”

  “That’s where we need to start. We need to talk to her tomorrow.”

  Frank thought back. Had he sent a deputy to speak with the super? He was sure that he had, but it was fast becoming a blur to him. He was too close to the forest, he couldn’t see any trees. More guilt waved over him. It was his job to stand back and delegate. His job to compile the evidence and see where it took him. He was acting like a detective again and it was hurting the case. The kid saw more than he did.

  “I think you’re right,” Frank said. “I mean, I think I may have sent someone over there already, but…”

  “We need to do this ourselves. There’s something there; I’m sure of it.”

  Too much was going on. Frank needed to think, needed to clear things out. And there was something that he needed to do.

  Lights cut through the darkness and an ambulance pulled into the driveway. Frank was surprised to someone he recognized get out of the passenger seat.

  “Lester,” Frank said. “You came yourself?”

  Lester Pearson indicated the brawny man getting out of the driver’s seat. “With my muscle.”

  Frank smiled. He approached Lester and embraced him. Frank could feel the man stiffen a little, but he returned the hug with a jovial pat on the back.

  “Good to see you too,” Lester said.

  Frank released him, but kept a hold of either shoulder and gave him a few pats before he finally let him go.

  “I didn’t expect to see you,” Frank said.

  “I know how important this is to you,” Lester said. “I wanted to supervise the transfer.”

  The beefy kid was moving to the door and stretched to look after him.

  “Go ahead,” Frank said. “I’ll let you get to it. We’re just leaving.”

  “I’ll cal
l you when I have my report,” Lester said.

  Frank smiled at the man. “Thank you, Lester.”

  “Anything for an old friend, Frank.”

  Twenty-Four

  I.

  “I’m just dropping you off,” Frank said, when he and Bentley were almost to the house. “I need to talk to her.”

  “Now you know how I felt,” Bentley said.

  Their eyes met and it was Bentley who looked away first.

  “Not trying to say anything bad,” Bentley said. “Go ahead and talk to her. Just remember that it’s important that we talk to the super in the morning.”

  “I’ll be here to pick you up,” Frank said.

  Unless she slams the door in my face, he thought.

  II.

  She didn’t. She didn’t even open the door at all.

  “Katie, would you please open up so that we can talk,” Frank said. His hand rested on the door. It was too sore from pounding to try and knock again. “I need to apologize to you.”

  “Go away,” Katie said. “Maybe I’ll be ready to forgive you later, but right now I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “There might not be any later,” Frank said.

  The door flung open. Frank wasn’t ready for his resting post to be pulled out so quickly and he stumbled into the room and fell on his face.

  “Why?” Katie said.

  She hadn’t seemed to notice that he was currently face down on the rug. Frank rolled over and he was looking up at her.

  Her hair had dried and she had replaced the towel with a black nightgown, frilled at the bottom, which offered a gorgeous amount of thigh.

  “Thanks for letting me in,” Frank said.

  Katie reached out a hand and Frank took it. He pushed off the floor with his other hand, but he still required quite a bit of her help.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” Frank said. “Takes me a little longer to get up at my age, that’s all. Not like I broke a hip or something.”

  Katie punched him in the arm. It actually stung a bit.

  “That’s not what I meant. What did you mean when you said there might not be a later?”

  She leaned towards him, her eyes were bugged in panic. Her bottom lip trembled.

  “Ellison’s still out there and I’m starting to think more and more that he wants me. Something to do with me.”