Beneath the Mask of Sanity Read online

Page 22


  “Bentley? That’s his name?”

  Agent Conrad nodded. “Please sit down.”

  Sheila and Katie took their seats. Frank and Dunham sat next to them. Conrad took his seat between Dunham and Snyder.

  “First, I’d like to tell you a little about Bentley Grimes. He has done this before. He killed two other families, one in Philly and the other in Chicago.”

  “He’s a serial killer?” Katie asked.

  “Yes. And based on his previous behavior we can say with near certainty that he’s going to come after the two of you.”

  “But you’re going to catch him,” Sheila said.

  “Yes, but we need your help. Bentley won’t be able to help coming after you. He is a diseased mind. What we’d like to do, with your permission, is have one of you stay at the house and one of you stay at the hotel.”

  “I’ll stay at the house,” Sheila said.

  Conrad paused for a moment. He opened his mouth to continue but Sheila spoke over him.

  “I don’t want Katie anywhere near him. I’ll stay there.”

  Dunham put a hand on her arm. “That’s fine,” he said. “Are you saying that you’ll agree to stay at your house?”

  “I told you that I wanted to go back there yesterday.”

  “We’ll have plenty of police protection around both places of course,” Wilson said. “We want you to know that you’ll be safe. We only want to draw him out of hiding.”

  “Fine,” Sheila said. “It’s a good idea. But you don’t need to keep too many people around my house. Put most of them where Katie is.”

  The officers looked at each other. Unspoken language passed between them.

  “Mrs. Braddock,” Conrad began. “Your house is the much more likely target. It’s a place that Bentley is familiar with. That’s where he’ll go. If anything, we’d like to keep more people there.”

  “If you have a bunch of people around my house, he’ll know. He’ll know and he won’t risk it.”

  “He’s not going to have a choice,” Wilson said. “Like Agent Conrad here says, he needs to get to you.”

  “But if we’re separated he won’t be able to get to both of us. He’ll choose one and he’ll choose the easiest target.”

  “Mrs. Braddock, he won’t know where Katie is.”

  “He’ll know,” Sheila said. “He’ll know. All I need is Detective Miles and Chief Dunham. That’s it.”

  Conrad fixed his eyes on Sheila. “Mrs. Braddock, we can’t leave you in that house alone with only two officers. No offense to either of you.”

  “No, I agree,” Dunham said. “If we want to catch this guy, then we need to know where he is and when he’s coming in. Through what door. I want all that.”

  Frank shook his head, he was pointing down at his paper. Dunham looked over and read it.

  “Frank says, she’s right.”

  Frank wrote and Dunham repeated what he saw as it was written.

  “We’ve tried normal police techniques on this guy before.” Dunham tapped Frank on the shoulder. “You misspelled techniques.” Frank waved him off and continued.

  “He will know if we’re canvassing the place. If he’s as patient as you say then he’ll wait. He’ll wait until they’re out at a store, or a movie, or whatever. He’ll wait until our guard is down and then he’ll strike. In this situation, we can almost assure ourselves that he’ll come, the only difference between now and later, is now we’ll be ready for him.”

  Conrad lowered his head and rubbed his hand on his chin. The others looked at him; even Wilson who, it seemed, had decided to abdicate control over to the fed.

  “Mrs. Braddock, I think this is crazy, I’m sure everyone here but Detective Miles agrees with me.” Heads nodded around the table. “But you and the detective have had face to face contact with Bentley, I haven’t. So I’m going to agree to this on one condition.”

  “What?” Sheila asked.

  “That you wear a flack jacket and you agree to call me every hour with an update on the situation.”

  “Agreed,” Sheila said.

  “Okay, then I guess we’d better get things set up.”

  “Wait,” Katie said.

  “What?” Conrad asked.

  “No one has asked me what I think of this. You know it was my dad and sister that were killed. Not to mention my best friend.”

  “We still haven’t found Brenda’s body,” Conrad said. “From what Detective Wilson said the dogs are still searching the area.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. I mean, no one asked me what I think of my mom being put in this situation.”

  “It’s not your decision,” Sheila said.

  “Why not?” Katie’s voice rose in anger. “Do you think I want you to die too? I couldn’t…” Katie’s voice broke down in tears. She held her head in her hands and wept.

  “Katie,” Dunham said. “All of us here only want two things, to keep you two alive and to get Bentley. I assure you that nothing is going to happen to either of you.”

  Katie looked up. Her face was red and her eyes burned with hate. “What did you do to help my Dad? What did you do to help my sister? You don’t give a shit about us, you just want to close your case and you’re going to use my Mom, who’s too drunk to know what’s going on, to help you!”

  Sheila jerked back as if she’d just suffered a small electrical shock. “Katie!”

  “I don’t want to hear it. Throughout everything that’s happened, you haven’t once asked me what I think we should do.”

  “What do you think we should do, Katie?” Conrad asked.

  She turned to him and her eyes cooled. “I think that my Mom and I need to leave. Leave the state if we have to. You guys can protect us, right?”

  “Not forever,” Conrad said. “Yes the FBI might offer you protection from this man, but when would it end? If we never catch him, we’d have to protect you forever. I don’t think the FBI would agree to that, and I’m fairly certain the local police force wouldn’t either. It takes money and men to protect people, Katie.”

  “We could move, change our names, he wouldn’t find us.”

  “What if he did?” Dunham said. “What if he did find you and we weren’t there?”

  Katie looked flustered. Her head spun from Conrad to her mother to Frank to Dunham. She looked like a kid on the tea cups, trying to get her bearings.

  “I don’t know,” Katie said.

  “Do you want to leave your life?” Conrad asked.

  “What life,” Katie replied. “My friend is dead.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  “She’s dead! So are Dad and Karen. The only thing I see here is them, everywhere I look. I don’t want that anymore.”

  “Perhaps when this is over the FBI can assist in a move. Someplace different.”

  Katie looked into his eyes and searched for a lie, she didn’t find one.

  “Why does it have to be like this?”

  “We’re not in control here, Katie,” Dunham said. “He is.”

  110.

  Bentley had been sitting on the bench for nearly two hours when the cars pulled out. There were two of them. Bentley was surprised to find two faces that he recognized heading towards the first car. The mother, he dismissed almost immediately. The second face though.

  You are a tough one, aren’t you? Bentley thought. I knew I should have finished you off. I’ll bet you’re the reason my party was cut short at the playhouse.

  The three of them, the two he knew and the one he didn’t, got into the car and pulled out of the lot. Bentley tensed himself. The girl hadn’t gone out to the car and that meant she was still inside. There was no back door; Bentley had checked it out that morning. The front entrance was the only way in or out.

  The car’s left blinker light came on and Bentley relaxed. Unless they somehow knew he was there and were trying to be tricky, he knew where they were going.

  A minute later three men came out with his Prize. One of
them was a uniform, but the other two were dressed in suits. The one in the lead wore a blue blazer and a fat black tie.

  FBI? Bentley thought. You’re FBI aren’t you? You’re certainly not from this part of the world?

  It was apparent in the way the man glanced around. He didn’t do it with the knowing look of a native. He did it with the wide, searching eyes of someone that was taking in his surroundings for the first time. And if this man was not from the area there were only two possibilities, he was either some uncle of Katie’s that flew in or he was FBI.

  Bentley studied the way he opened the back door of the Toyota and let Katie in. There was no look of love, no gentle hand to help. It was impersonal.

  No, you don’t know Katie. You’re an outsider. A fed. The only question is, are you the only one?

  Bentley thought the answer to that question was yes. Cops, no matter what their title, liked to travel in packs. If there had been other agents they would be around.

  He stood up from the bench, as the quartet got into the car, and walked to the alley next to the bench. The bike was leaning against a wall. Bentley had found it that morning, in front of the middle school. It hadn’t been chained and he’d simply taken it. His instincts had told him that he might need it and, as always, they turned out to be correct.

  The car pulled out of the parking lot and headed right. Bentley jumped on the bike and followed.

  111.

  Dunham pulled the car in front of the house. “You’re sure that you’re okay with this?” He asked. Dunham craned his head around to look at Sheila who sat in the back.

  “Yes. Let’s just get in there so we can get this over with.”

  The house was pretty much as she left it. The carpet had a trampled look to it. The shadow of so many police that had combed the living room.

  Sheila looked at the kitchen. She looked at the window where she watched Karen for those weeks after George had died. She felt the sting in her nose and knew the tears were going to start flowing. Sheila cut them off and walked away towards the stairs.

  “Where are you going?” Dunham asked.

  “I want to take a shower,” Sheila said. “And I really don’t want male company in there.”

  Dunham paused. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

  Sheila smiled. “Do you have children, Chief Dunham?”

  “One girl and one boy.”

  “If one of them was killed, do you think you might want to get clean? You know, just to do it.”

  Dunham stared at her. On one level he could somewhat understand what she was saying, but in general he had no clue what her point was.

  “I guess,” he said.

  “There’s no way to get in there anyway,” Sheila said. “Unless he’s going to scale the side of the house and climb into the tiny window in the bathroom.”

  “Don’t discount anything,” Dunham said. But he didn’t stop her when she walked up the stairs and into the bathroom.

  112.

  Katie sat in the tiny hotel room. It was the same television, the same little bathroom, the same bed. But it was different too. The bed was too big for one person. The television offered nothing but movies to be watched alone.

  Katie sat on the bed and felt the loneliness creep in. Then, she remembered the bathroom. The bottles were still in the tub. One of them was empty and the second bottle looked about half-full.

  It felt real in her hand. More real than any of the past twenty-four hours. Katie walked back to the bed and ordered The Avengers. She took tiny sips, still not liking the burning feeling that it gave her in her throat and stomach, but getting used to it.

  113.

  The motel was a shitty little building. It was two stories with doors facing the outside. Bentley didn’t like motels. They looked like giant beehives. Just rooms cut into rock really.

  He parked his bike across the street, in front of a McDonalds and walked in. There wasn’t much money in his pocket, but it would be enough to fulfill his needs.

  There was a booth right by the window and Bentley sat down. The three men had led the girl up to the motel room and then waited outside the door.

  Bentley watched from the booth as one by one, cars decided to just pull into the motel. Their occupants got out and walked towards the main office. Then it seemed as if they had a change of heart and would venture off somewhere else. Two of them headed towards the wooded area to the east of the motel. Another two decided that they wanted to go window shopping down the street. Yet, they always stayed close enough to see anyone that might walk up to the motel.

  The three men that were waiting by the door dispersed. The fed went down to the next room over and opened the door. The other two went downstairs to the Toyota and got in. They didn’t drive away, but simply sat there. The lights on the back of the car, told Bentley that the battery had been activated, the lack of exhaust told him that they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  A whiff of smoke drifted out of the passenger side.

  “Not a good idea to smoke in a rental car,” Bentley muttered. “They don’t like it. I wonder if that fed knows you’re doing it.”

  Bentley stood up and walked to the counter. It was time to order some shitty piece of meat that he wasn’t going to eat, but one had to keep up appearances.

  114.

  Dunham and Frank sat in Katie’s bedroom. The light was off and the darkness of the outside penetrated into the room. Neither of them had liked this option but Sheila had insisted. She had told them that Bentley wouldn’t come if they were out in the open. Besides, she would just be in the next room over. If anything happened they would hear it. Plus, there were her calls to Agent Conrad. If he didn’t get a call every hour, they would all be getting calls.

  Frank pointed to his paper.

  “Yeah,” Dunham said. “It does seem like she wants to get killed. That’s what bothers me. This woman has nothing left to lose.”

  Frank pointed at his paper again. There was only one word on it: Katie.

  “Yeah.” Dunham ran a hand through his hair. “But I don’t know. Maybe this whole thing is just too much for her. I don’t think she’s thinking very rationally. She might not even be thinking about Katie. I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose someone so close.”

  Dunham’s face flashed with emotion. He looked like a man that’s just revealed a secret in the natural course of conversation. He looked over at Frank. “Sorry.”

  Frank waved it away. His paper read: “Sometimes you just have to let things go.”

  Frank nodded and mouthed the word, now.

  “Well good, because…”

  Dunham stopped. There was a rattle from downstairs.

  “Did you hear that?”

  Frank nodded.

  “Let’s be ready.”

  115.

  Wilson and Snyder sat in the Toyota. The walkie sat between them, but it had been silent all night.

  “This fuck coming out or what?” Snyder asked.

  “If you ask me, no,” Wilson said. “I don’t think even the most insane killer would come attack now. If you ask me, Bentley Grimes is far away from here. He’s probably already sizing up his next family and this federal prick can take his federal ass somewhere else.”

  “Tell me how you really feel,” Snyder said and smiled.

  “No one asked him to come babysit us. I don’t give a shit if a bunch of other cops that I’ve never met couldn’t catch this bastard. I’ve worked hard at my job and I don’t need someone else coming over here and telling me how to do it.”

  “He’s just tryin’ to help,” Snyder said. “You can’t get mad at him.”

  “The hell I can’t.”

  Snyder sighed and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his pack of Camels and lit one.

  “You’ve smoked enough of those things today to give both of us lung cancer.”

  Snyder pulled in a lungful of smoke and puffed it out the window. “Sorry mother, I know it’s a filthy habit, but to
day is not the day to quit.”

  “Never is,” Wilson said.

  Snyder smiled. “You’re right about that. How ‘bout we just concentrate on getting this guy, not on my bad habits.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  The walkie talkie cracked with static. “Wilson, Snyder.”

  Wilson picked up the thing and depressed the button. “We’re here.”

  “I haven’t gotten my nine o’clock call from Sheila. I tried to call over there and there’s no answer. Get over there now.”

  “Copy.”

  Wilson started the car and roared off.

  “Guess you were wrong,” Snyder said as they pulled out onto the street. He is that crazy.”

  “God fucking help us.”

  116.

  Dunham stood at the door, it was opened a crack. Frank stood behind him. From the sliver, Dunham could see the front door. It was closed and the rattling had stopped.

  “What…” Dunham started to whisper and then realized that Frank couldn’t answer him, not with words anyway. He’d have to look down at his pad of paper and that meant taking his eyes off of the living room, which he wasn’t about to do.

  There was more noise. This time louder, more of a pound than a rattle. Dunham stared at the living room and his stomach jumped. He was there, the bald kid, walking across the floor and headed for the stairs.

  “Holy shit,” Dunham whispered. “He really came.”

  Frank tapped him on the shoulder. Dunham brushed it off and burst through the door. His gun was out before he knew it and it was aimed at the bald kid on the stairs.

  “Bentley Grimes!” The kid looked up. His face looked confused.

  “This isn’t what The Master said.”

  “Put up your hands or I’ll…”

  That was when the other door burst open. Sheila ran for the stairs, there was a knife in her hand. She uttered a primordial scream as she ran down the staircase.