Читать книгу Malicious - Jacob Stone - Страница 21

Chapter 14

The killer sat in front of the lighted makeup mirror admiring the job he had done earlier that morning. It had taken him more than two hours of painstaking work, as well as many hours of practicing over the last six months, but the transformation he had achieved was quite remarkable. While the disguise he had put together for Heather Brandley was adequate enough to do the job, this was at a whole different level. He proved this by seeing that Lopez had no clue who he was. The man had blubbered like a baby when the killer marched him into the bathroom, and even when he promised to let Lopez live if the doorman could only tell him his name (which was an inane lie—Lopez’s brains were going to be blown out no matter what he had said) Lopez in his panic still couldn’t give him an answer. The killer couldn’t be too unkind to him; after all, the face now staring back at him in the mirror would’ve fooled his own mother.

But enough of patting himself on the back. It was time to get to work.

The killer popped out the cosmetic contact lenses, changing his eye color back from blue to brown. Next, he removed the hairpiece. After that he poured solvent into a bowl, picked the right brush to use, and removed the red-colored eyebrows that he had glued on. With those taken care of, he lifted the edge of the latex foam prosthetic that he had attached to the bottom half of his face just enough so that he could work the brush in and dab the tiny bit of exposed adhesive with solvent. This was a slow, methodical process as he worked his way down the jawline, across the neck, and then up the other side of the jaw. After twenty minutes, he was able to peel away the prosthetic, and he went from having chubby chipmunk cheeks to a lean, angular-shaped face. He also lost the beard and mustache that had been glued onto the prosthetic.

He continued the same process with the latex foam prosthetic nose he’d been wearing, and less than eight minutes later he was able to peel it from his face, revealing a smaller, straighter nose. With the prosthetics removed, he got up from the table and headed to the washroom, and there he soaked a towel in hot water, which he used to loosen the dried epoxy sticking to his face. With that done he scrubbed his face clean, and then applied moisturizer to his skin. He studied himself in the mirror over the sink until he was satisfied that he couldn’t see a single sign that anything had been glued to his face.

Just like dominos falling. His mouth curved upward into an amused grin.

Even though he didn’t get a chance to meet Morris Brick in the flesh as he had expected, he was still quite pleased with how the events of the day were turning out, although he wouldn’t have been able to say that earlier. The truth was, he was furious when those two cops had entered the building’s lobby without Brick in tow. That had stunned him. How could Brick not understand the warning the killer had left him? It should’ve been obvious. Was the guy that thick (as a brick!) that he was going to force the killer to make his wife one of the victims before he’d play along? While that lady cop had questioned him, the killer was too numb at first to feel much of anything, but after she had left to go to Heather Brandley’s condo, he simmered in rage and imagined all the things he was going to do to Brick’s wife to teach the guy a lesson.

The killer was still smoldering in evil thoughts when that same tough lady cop stepped out of the elevator, stormed through the lobby and left the building, but curiously, she veered away from the walkway and disappeared from sight. Well, that left him no choice but to investigate, and he snuck up to the vestibule door and spotted her hiding behind shrubbery with a pair of field glasses. He wondered about that until he saw Brick sitting in the park across the street. The killer then realized what was happening. They were convinced he’d be there watching for Brick to make sure that Brick had taken the killer’s challenge. All the killer could do then was whisper to himself, wow. The dominos were falling exactly as he had planned. Exactly! The first domino being Heather Brandley, the second having Morris Brick come to Brandley’s condo complex to investigate.

But then the killer remembered something he had said to the lady cop in his irritability. This was when he had described Heather Brandley leaving the building yesterday looking as if she were dressed to kill. The lady cop might not have picked up on the killer’s snarkiness, but Brick just might if it was repeated to him. He also realized that if he waited around for Brick to come into the building, there was a chance one of the building’s residents could come by and ask about the doorman who was supposed to be on duty. The killer accepted that it was best to leave. And so he carried out the delivery box that he had brought and left through the back door, which led to the parking lot. He had Brandley’s car keys with him, and by clicking on the remote so that her car would beep, he found her Audi and drove off in it.

The killer dumped the Audi three blocks from the alley where he had left his car. In the box were the clothes he had worn to masquerade as a deliveryman, and before leaving the Audi he took off the glasses, blazer, and tie, and put on the shirt with the delivery company logo emblazoned on the front and matching cap to once again appear as a deliveryman. If he were honest about it, he felt exposed and had moments of nervousness as he walked those three blocks to his car, especially when two police cars with sirens blasting drove past him, but they didn’t seem to pay any attention to him. Once he was back in his car, it was clear sailing.

* * * *

The killer left the washroom and walked to the kitchen area. He chose the Capriccio flavor, and after the coffee finished brewing he brought it to the modeling area where he had miniaturized replicas of the carnage he had planned. Most of it was dark, but two of the models had been lit up—one that showed the Star Wax museum with the back and top removed so that a six-inch version of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dancing could be seen, and another that showed a detailed three-foot-high replica of Heather Brandley’s condo building.

The killer felt a sense of pride as he looked over the area. Soon more lights would be turned on. He checked his watch. Fifty-eight minutes and forty-one seconds before the next domino would be falling and he’d be turning on another light.

The killer suppressed a yawn. It was time to get going.

He had brought the clothing he needed for this next part of his plan and, as he dressed, he reflected on how busy he’d been over the last forty hours and how much more still needed to be done before he’d be able to get any sleep. Besides the yawn fighting to come loose, he was still feeling wide awake. Energetic even. Like he could do backflips. He was sure at some point exhaustion would hit him like a truck, but that wasn’t going to happen now, not with all the adrenaline pumping hard through his veins. All those months of planning, and he was finally seeing his vision unfolding as he had imagined it would. Of course, it was still very early, and there were so many more deaths to follow, but so far everything was working out perfectly.

The killer drank the rest of his coffee, chose an LA Dodgers baseball cap to wear over his shaved head, grabbed a laptop computer and a pair of headphones, and was about to head out when he remembered that he hadn’t glued on any fake eyebrows. Well, that would’ve been a mistake, maybe even a fatal one! He decided to glue on the blond ones. He also decided to wear the matching bushy mustache and the shaggy dirty blond hairpiece. That would save him time later. It only took him a minute to add the fake hair to his face and head, and then he was off to watch the next domino fall.