Читать книгу Unfinished Business - C. A. Walters Walters - Страница 11

9-1-1, what is your emergency?” the operator asked. “There’s a man… a man… woods, woods, in the woods near the Borderline Convalescent Home moaning, he’s still alive! Please send help!” the caller shouted.

“I have paramedics on the way,” said the dispatcher.

“There’s some kind of thing in his mouth, oh God!!!” The caller then hung up, for whatever reason. The call had come from a cell phone, and dispatch had the number of the caller, so they could get hold of her later to ask questions.

A few minutes later, the first officers to arrive on the scene found a woman and a man waiting in the parking lot for them, looking sick.

“He’s over that way” said the woman, as she pointed to a large oak. “Straight back about sixty yards from that tree. We were just walking in the woods, and smelled something burning, so we walked that way to see what it was. Then we saw him, oh my God…”

“Okay Ma’am”, said Officer O’Malley. As ranking officer on site, he took command. “Officer Johnson here will take your statement, while these other two and I go into the woods to see what we have.”

The woman just nodded her head, and clung to the man with her, who later turned out to be her boyfriend.

As the officers made their way carefully through the woods, they began to hear low moaning sounds. It sounded as if whoever it was had long ago lost the ability to make any real effort at noise, and could only make animal like groans.

As they neared the area they were told about, they could smell something funny, like something nasty burning. As they broke into a small clearing, the source of the smell became obvious, and the officers were shocked at what they saw.

There between the trees, a naked man was tied to stakes in the ground, on his back, with his legs pulled back to his shoulders, spread wide open. But that was not what made the officers want to retch. Inserted into the man’s rectum was a metal pole, about two and a half inches in diameter. The other end of the pole, which seemed to be around five feet long, was placed into a holder, and clamped into the same holder was a blowtorch, trained on the end of the pipe. It was obvious that the torch had run out of fuel, and that was why it had stopped. The copper of the pole had turned colors from the heat, and the stench of burned flesh permeated the air. Carefully, so as not to disturb the crime scene too much, O’Malley moved toward the victim, so the scene could be secured, and the paramedics brought in.

As he got within five feet of the victim, he felt something move under his feet. Even as he jumped back away from whatever was under the leaves, he heard a whooshing noise, and out of the corner of his eye saw a tree branch fly away. There was a strange thunk in front of him, and when he turned to look, he saw that the victim’s head had been cut off. In stepping in close to the victim, he had set off a trap.

Later that day, when everything at the scene had been secured, and the witnesses questioned and released, O’Malley sat in the Captain’s office.

“Apparently, whoever did this put the victim in that position around 11:15 or so, shortly after he got off shift. Aside from the metal pipe, which you saw, his genitals had been soaked with what the lab determined to be hydrochloric acid. They were pretty much melted off by the time you arrived.” said the Captain.

“The perpetrator also had rigged the booby trap all the way around the area, so anywhere you stepped within 5 feet of the victim, you set off a tied back tree branch, which was rigged to a piece of piano wire around the victim’s neck. No matter when he was found, the victim wasn’t going to give the police any information. I’m afraid this is beyond us, boys, so I’ve called in the State police mobile crime lab.”

Everyone knew how much the chief hated turning anything over to another police entity, but he was right, this was way beyond their small force.

Later that day, two men walked into the little station, and asked for the chief.

“Whom may I say is calling?” asked the secretary.

“Detectives Wilson and James, state police major crimes division” replied Wilson.

“Yes sir, one moment please.” The receptionist spoke into her microphone for a moment, then turned back to the two detectives. “Follow me, please” she said.

“With pleasure”, thought Wilson, watching the pleasant sway of the receptionist’s rear end as she walked in front of them. Soon they came to a door with a name plaque that read, “Wilbert Thompson, Chief of Police” in old English type script.

The chief rose as they entered the room, and shook hands with the two men. He had a firm grip, but did not try to intimidate with a “strong” handshake. Wilson took an instant liking to the man.

“I’m glad to see you gentlemen, this is way beyond my little force.” We’ve never had anything quite like this before, and I hope we never do again.” said the Chief.

“I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, chief, but sometimes life just isn’t fair.” “Now, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to hear what you have gathered from the scene.”

“Well, your people are over there right now, going over everything with a fine tooth comb. I must say, I appreciate their professionalism, no comments about our guys “messing up” their crime scene. It’s nice to work with folks like that after all you hear about inter-agency rivalries.”

“Thanks for the goodwill, Chief.” said Wilson.

“Sure, here’s what we have so far.” The Chief ran down the major points of the case as they knew them so far, the victim’s name, occupation, etc. The way he was found in the woods, the description of the crime scene. He showed them the crime scene photos he had on his computer, and gave them the files with all the information they had gathered so far.

“We’re waiting for your guys, we didn’t even let the M.E. remove the body, we figured you guys would want to check the scene first, and after he was decapitated, there was no rush to get him anywhere.”

While they were looking at the crime scene photos, and reading the reports the locals had put together, Wilson’s phone rang.

“Wilson here”, he said.

“Hey Detective Wilson, Roberts here in the mobile crime scene van. We found something interesting, I think you need to see it. We’ll be there in about five.”

“Okay, see you then.” said Wilson as he hung up and put away his phone. “My guys found something, they’re bringing it over now.”

When the crime scene van officers arrived, they were escorted into the chief’s office. There, officer Roberts produced a small evidence bag, and a clipboard. Asking Wilson to sign the chain of custody form, he handed the bag over. In it was a small thumb drive for a computer.

“We found this, believe it or not, in the strap used to hold the ball gag in the victim’s mouth. We haven’t accessed it, just bagged it and tagged it.” said Roberts.

“Good work guys, thanks.” said Wilson. “May I use your computer, chief?”

“Of course you may, here” said the chief, turning the monitor and sliding the keyboard around to the side of the desk where Wilson was sitting.

Plugging in the thumb drive, Wilson accessed it, and found only one file, an .avi file. “Some kind of movie on it, only a few minutes by the size of the file,” he said. Double clicking the mouse on the file, the screen soon opened a video viewer program, and the file began to run.

After a few seconds, the men could see that this was surveillance video from the room of an elderly woman. Then the orderly came in, and they witnessed the rape of the woman by the orderly. The same orderly they had found in the woods.

“Well, I guess we know now why the perp did what he did, but how did he get this video, and why leave it where we could find it?” asked the Chief.

“Because he wants everyone to know why he did what he did, he’s sending a message.” Replied Wilson. When the filed was finished running, a message came on the screen.

“Wait a minute, he appended a message onto the video. It says, “Tell the media why this man was killed, or I will release the video on the internet for all to see why. We need to see if this ties into the murder earlier this month, at the other nursing home. It seems like we have a weird kind of serial here.”

“Yeah, two orderlies, the first accused of mistreating his patients, now this one, who obviously was raping at least one of his.” said Ron. “I’ll order a rape kit on the woman, Ms. Lafontaine.”

As he reached for his phone, Wilson told him not to bother, they would just drive over there right away to talk to the manager.

As the detectives drove to the site of the latest murder, they talked a little about what was going on.

“The nurse who used to work in the first home said that Mr. McCutcheon, the orderly, was verbally abusive most of the time when he though nobody was around, and had pushed one old woman down onto her bed, shortly after she had abdominal surgery, causing a couple of her staples to open. This was the incident she had reported, now we have an orderly sexually assaulting a patient, and he gets this. Just like the first one.” said Ron.

“No such thing as a coincidence in this line of work pal, said Wilson.

For the next twenty minutes or so they rode in silence, each wrapped in his own thoughts, until they reached the crime scene.

Driving through the New England scenery always gave the detectives some time to think about the case they happened to be on at the time. Quiet forested areas, interspersed with smaller towns, all seemingly a century behind the rest of the world. Small town charm still existed in this part of the world, alongside the new age types. It presented an interesting dichotomy, one which seemed to create just such a situation as faced them now.

Pulling up in front of the nursing home, Wilson let his eyes roam all around the area, scanning in ten degree increments as he had been taught so long ago in the military. Nothing should escape the notice of a trained observer, and Detective Wilson was no exception to this rule. Any broken tree branches, any pieces of paper where they shouldn’t be, anything out of the ordinary. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be seen, so they entered the building.

Entering the lobby, Detective Wilson showed his badge to the receptionist, and told her that the manager was expecting him. The receptionist told the two detectives to follow her, and walked down a short hallway. Following her was a pleasure, though Wilson, as he watched her petite derriere sway down the hallway.

“Here is Mr. Montgomery’s office, gentlemen. If you need anything, he will call me”, she said as she opened the door to the manager’s office.

Stepping inside, Wilson noted that the décor was a mixture of modern and 1960’s Salvation Army chic. Apparently, there was not a lot of money in the budget for office furniture.

“Welcome, gentlemen, have a seat.” The manager, Mr. Montgomery, was a balding man in his early fifties, slightly overweight, and given to excessive displays of friendliness to overcome his nervousness at the situation he found himself in.

“Relax, Mr. Montgomery, we just need to ask you a few questions, and we may need to look at some of your records, then I’m sure we can be on our way”, said Wilson.

“That’s right sir”, said James. “There is nothing implicating you in anything, so you have nothing at this point to be nervous about.”

One hour and two aspirins later, the detectives left the nursing home with not much more than they had arrived with. The victim had been with the home around 9 months, and had no record of any infractions, though working basically alone at night, it was easier for him to fall through the cracks.

A standard background check had been done when he applied, but no felony record came to light, and he had the requisite certification from a community college as a Certified Nurse’s Aide, so the decision was made to hire him.

“So I guess it boils down to a couple of questions that need to be answered”, said Ron, thinking out loud. One, how did the perpetrator know that this guy was sexually assaulting the patients, and two, how did he get that video?”

“According to the administrators, there were no cameras, security or otherwise, to take that video. So our perp not only got hold of the video, but probably managed to install the cameras that took it, too”, replied Wilson. “Records show that the “Atlas” fire equipment company sent out a rep to inspect the sprinkler system a few days before the murder, however; the home has no contract with that company.” Also, the manager never ordered an inspection on his system, so it seems the killer must have hacked his way into the home’s computer system.”

“I guess we need to go see the fire equipment company then,” said Ron. “This is getting really weird; someone really did their homework.”

“The receptionist gave me a description of the guy who came to inspect the sprinklers, very generic. 6’ 2”, with wide shoulders and a slender waist. Dark hair, almost black. Brown “bedroom” eyes. Aside from the height, half the male population could fit that description.” said Wilson.

“Well, at least it’s a start. There’s no way the guy who set up the cameras isn’t the killer, unless there are two of them working together, and that’s just scary. One would be a psychopath; two would be a cult of some sort. Not the kind of thing we really want to be trying to pin down.” said James.

“Remember Jonestown,” chided Wilson.

“And it follows the pattern of what went on in the last scene, just a little more gruesome. I hope he doesn’t carry through with releasing that video footage, imagine the impact on the family, and the lawsuits. It would be enough to shut down that nursing home, and probably a few others.” said James.

“I agree. We’ll release information that the victim had been accused of abusing patients, and that one of the female patients, who will remain unnamed, was found to have his bodily secretions in her vagina.”

“Well, I guess our next stop will be the Atlas Fire Equipment Company. But I guarantee it will be a dead end, in my opinion, whoever did this just used their company name.” said Wilson.

The two men went to the offices of the Atlas Fire Equipment Company, and as predicted, found little of any use. The company had no contract with the nursing home, and had not sent anyone out to inspect their sprinkler system.

None of the employees matched the description of the person who went to the home, and on the day in question, all were accounted for. It being a fairly small company, there were only 12 employees to track, and they all checked out as being somewhere else on that day.

“So this is just another dead end for now, I guess. File the information; we’ll put it into the track we’re developing. This guy has to slip sometime.” said Wilson.

“Let’s hope there’s something here that can help us, I’ve got people checking out the cameras, where they can be bought, and canvassing all the companies in the area that sell them to see if anyone placed an order that is close to what we found.” said Ron.

“I doubt it will be that easy,” replied Wilson. “This guy managed to get information nobody else had on abuse here, fake his way in, and plant the cameras. I’m willing to bet they were bought from various sources using different names, probably from WEB sites on the internet.” said Wilson. “This guy’s too smart for something like that.”

“What about any footprints?” asked James.

“Funny thing, that. The only prints here, like the last place, were in shallow, sandy areas. And this time they are a size 11, not 13. But the “moccasin” style matches.”

“Homemade, more than likely, no prints. And no fingerprints anywhere that we could use, no hair, skin, no DNA. This guy really is careful. Almost as if he knew what we would be looking for.”

“Yeah, well, any kid who watches “CSI” or “Bones” could figure that stuff out. Television gives away more information on how to commit crimes than you would learn in the local prison.”

So don’t misunderstand, the average person may say that at this point I had lost control, on the contrary, I was fully in control.

I had reached the determination that there simply are some people in this world who are nothing more than a waste of space, no redeeming features, and that since society wouldn’t do anything to rid us of these parasites, I would do what I could do.

With my background in Special Forces, and my training in computers, it was not difficult to find targets, and hunt them down.

The Hunter reviewed what he knew about his latest quarry. Hunting in the grounds he had hunted before was becoming dangerous, too much chance of interference, of getting caught. The hunt could not be interrupted now, not when it was just beginning to bear fruit.

But keeping the pressure on in this area was just too big a risk, so he had to look a little farther afield. He was certain the search would not take too long, there was always some animal that needed to be removed from this life, it was just a matter of time …