Authors: Rayven T. Hill
Hank flipped his pad closed and tucked it in his pocket. He hadn’t gotten anything helpful, but the description was pretty much the same as Coleman had given earlier.
“Any security cameras here?” Hank asked, glancing around.
“Sure. Lots inside, but nothing out there.” He pointed toward opposite corners of the room. “Camera there, and there, but neither of them has a view of the outside. I already checked for that.”
Hank pulled out his pad again and consulted a page. “There was another witness,” he said. “Can you tell me where I might find—?”
Hank twisted around and looked over his shoulder as Chalker pointed to an office on the far side of the bank. “Right there. Mrs. Kato. She saw the robbery through her office window.”
“Ok, thanks, Mr. Chalker.”
“Zeke. Just call me Zeke.”
“Thanks, Zeke,” Hank said, and turned away. He walked across the bank and tapped on the office door below a sign that said, ‘Marie Kato, Loan Officer’.
A pleasant voice said, “Come in.”
Hank pushed the door open. Mrs. Kato sat forward in a straight-backed chair, papers in front of her, a pen poised in one hand, her eyes on Hank as he entered. She was mid-thirties perhaps. Asian, maybe Japanese, Hank couldn’t tell. Thin and great looking, her long dark hair framing a face painted to perfection. Filled out her charcoal-gray business suit really nicely.
Hank showed his badge. “Mrs. Kato, I’m Detective Corning.”
She motioned toward the guest chair.
Hank sat and leaned forward. “I understand you saw the mugging this morning?”
Mrs. Kato set her pen carefully on the desk. “Yes, I saw it.” Her voice was precise. Not much of an accent. “However, it happened so quickly I didn’t have much chance to respond.”
She gave the description of the mugger and it pretty much fit with what Zeke had said—the main thing being the big bushy beard.
“I didn’t get a good look at the weapon,” she explained. “I alerted the security guard as soon as I saw what was happening.” She sat back and crossed her legs, her hands clasped together in her lap. “I believe that’s all I can tell you, Detective. It was over in a few seconds.”
“You’ve been a big help,” Hank said, as he stood. He dug a card from his pocket and handed it to her. “If you think of anything else, please contact me.”
She took the card and stood. “I will, Detective.”
Hank left the office. Zeke was back in his position by the door, arms crossed and vigilant, guarding the security of the bank’s patrons. Hank nodded at Zeke and went out to the sidewalk through the swinging door.
He climbed in his vehicle and sat awhile, thinking. The information he’d gotten from Zeke, Mrs. Kato, and Walter Coleman, was basically the same, but was enough to form a good picture of what had happened here this morning.
The kidnapper was proactive and had struck unexpectedly. He’d gotten his money, avoided a possible showdown with police and gotten away with barely a whimper. A smart move and unforeseen.
He was contemplating his next move when his cell rang. Hank looked at the caller ID. It was Jake.
“I’ve got good news,” Jake said, when Hank answered. “Mrs. Coleman is free.”
“He let her go?”
“No, she escaped. She’s at the hospital right now. She had a nasty bump on her head, but after she called 9-1-1, she called her husband and he called me.”
“Escaped? How?”
“We don’t know anything yet,” Jake said. “It just happened a couple of minutes ago. Annie and I are about to go and see her at the request of Walter Coleman. Of course, I realize you’ll want to interview her in depth, but we’d like to be there.”
“I can meet you there,” Hank said. “I’m just a few minutes away.”
Friday, September 2nd, 1:00 PM
JAKE PULLED into the parking lot by the emergency entrance of Richmond Hill General Hospital. He hadn’t been here for a while and was amazed at the price of parking. But he knew hospitals were vastly underfunded and he didn’t begrudge the extra cost. Jake chuckled at a sign that read, “Emergency Department Valet Service”. Just like a hotel.
Hank was already there, leaning against the front fender of his vehicle, pulled off to the side of the circular emergency driveway. The police sticker displayed on his dashboard ensured he wouldn’t be tagged or towed.
Jake and Annie stepped from the Firebird and joined Hank.
“I called dispatch,” Hank said. “Apparently Rosemary Coleman was being held in an abandoned store downtown. First responders have already shown up there and forensics is on their way now. That’s all I know at the moment.”
“This might be the break we need,” Annie said.
“I hope so,” Hank said, motioning toward the double doors leading into the hospital. “We’d better go in.”
An ambulance siren blared far away, getting closer, while another was just pulling from the ambulance bay.
The waiting room inside the massive building was busy. People of all ages, in various stages of pain and suffering, sat, slouched, and stood, patiently waiting their turn for treatment. The room smelled lightly of disinfectant mixed with the scent of disease and healing. A sign boasted the emergency department was open 24 hours a day, offering walk-in services for patients with emergencies. Jake wondered how much of an emergency it was if the patient could walk in.
Hank showed his badge to the receptionist, who squinted at it and then frowned at Jake and motioned toward a pair of double doors. Jake nodded, smiled at the receptionist and followed Hank through the doors.
The large main room of the hospital’s emergency department seemed well equipped to treat patients with serious medical conditions and injuries. Hank approached a nurse in a starched white uniform, who seemed to be in charge, and showed his badge.
“I’m looking for Rosemary Coleman?”
The nurse motioned toward one of many private treatment rooms that lined the far wall. A uniformed officer was keeping watch outside one of the curtained off rooms.
“We’re keeping her for observation for a few hours,” the nurse said. “The doctor has already examined her, so you can see her now.” The nurse frowned. “But just two of you at a time.”
Jake looked at Annie, and Annie looked back. “I’ll wait out here. You can fill me in later,” Annie said, as she turned and took a seat in a small waiting area.
Hank approached the room and nodded to the officer. He pulled back the curtain and he and Jake entered the small, dimly lit room. A woman was propped up in the hospital bed, her head to one side, her eyes closed.
“Rosemary Coleman?” Hank said softly.
The woman’s eyes shot open. “Yes,” she said.
“I’m Detective Corning.” Hank motioned toward Jake. “And this is Jake Lincoln. Are you able to talk?”
She nodded.
Hank explained to Rosemary who Jake was and how he was involved. She seemed to be in a calm, composed mood despite her recent predicament.
“The place where you were held is being thoroughly examined now, but I have a few other questions.”
She nodded again.
“Did you see the face of your captor?” Hank asked. “Would you be able to identify him?”
“There were two of them in the woods, but they wore masks and they took me to a cellar. I . . . I almost escaped once and there was only one man there at the time and I saw his face, but he caught me again. He didn’t hide his face after that, so I knew they were never going to let me out alive.”
“Would you recognize him again?”
“Yes,” she said. “I would know his face anywhere.”
“As soon as you’re able, we’ll get a forensic artist to conduct an interview with you, then get you to look at some mug shots later,” Hank said, and made a note in his pad.
She nodded.
Hank looked up. “How did you escape?”
She smiled slightly. “I pulled the building down.”
Hank tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
She explained how she’d freed herself, resulting in half the ceiling coming down, and how she’d beaten down her abductor with a piece of wood.
Jake grinned as he pictured the scene. She had a lot of spunk.
“It was the only choice I had,” she added.
“You didn’t kill him, did you?” Hank asked.
She laughed. “He was still breathing when I left.”
“You did the right thing, Mrs. Coleman. Your husband paid the ransom demand, but we have reason to believe they had no intention of letting you go.”
She nodded slowly and said quietly, “I was afraid of that.”
Hank got more details from her as to when, where, and how she was abducted, and what had happened during the period she was held. She stopped and frowned. “I think there was a blue van parked behind the building.” She closed her eyes a moment. “Yes, I’m sure there was.”
Jake exchanged a look with Hank. They’d been looking for a white van all this time. Perhaps they’d been on the wrong track, or maybe there were two vans involved.
The curtains to the room slid aside and Walter Coleman stepped in. “Darling,” he said. “I came as fast as I could.”
The small hospital room was getting crowded as Jake stepped back to allow Coleman past. Coleman squeezed through, leaned over and kissed his wife on the forehead. “Are you all right?”
“I’m ok,” she said.
The nurse appeared in the doorway. “Gentlemen, I’m going to have to ask one of you to leave.”
“It’s ok. I believe we’re done here,” Hank told her, and then looked at Coleman. “I’ll arrange for an officer to stay at your home once your wife is released. We have to take every precaution until these guys are captured.”
“Thank you, Detective. Thanks, Jake,” Coleman said, as they turned to go. “I appreciate it.”
Jake and Hank joined Annie in the waiting area. “Let’s go to the abandoned store where Mrs. Coleman was held,” Hank said. “Jake can fill you in on the way.”
Friday, September 2nd, 1:44 PM
ANNIE WAS VAGUELY familiar with the part of the city where the abandoned store was located. As they drew closer, she saw many of the buildings in this area were run-down, vacant and probably earmarked for demolition at some time in the near future.
Jake pulled the Firebird in behind Hank’s Chevy where half a dozen police cars, along with the forensics van, sat in front of a boarded up storefront. Onlookers had gathered across the street in groups of two or three. Officers hung about in front, keeping back the curious, with a pair of cops at the door of the building, barring access to the unauthorized.
The Lincolns climbed from the car and joined Hank, already striding toward the front of the store. The officer nodded at them and let them inside.
Annie wrinkled her nose as she was hit with a musty odor, the staleness of rotting wood and perhaps the faint smell of human waste. Garbage littered the floor, old newspapers and trash spread about, piled in corners and along the peeling walls. A pair of dusty showcases sat near the front. A fold-up chair and a cardboard box to serve as a table, strewn with empty coffee cups, were the only signs anyone was here recently.
An investigator stood beside a gaping hole in the floor, staring into the basement below, his arms folded. Annie recognized him as the lead crime scene investigator, Rod Jameson.
Other investigators were at work. The entire content of the store was being carted away to be studied, scrutinized, and examined thoroughly. The job would soon be done.
Annie stayed out of the way as she went to the back of the store. The door was open and she stepped outside. An officer leaned against the doorframe and Annie smiled at him.
“Hello, Yappy,” she said.
Officer Spiegle was called Yappy by almost everyone. No one knew how he got the name, but he didn’t mind it. He considered himself lucky to have this job and normally would’ve been passed over during the hiring phase, but his daddy had been a well-respected sergeant who’d been killed in the line of duty. Nobody disliked Yappy. He was pleasant enough, but his assignments never much more than menial.
“Hi, Annie. I heard you guys were on this one,” Yappy said.
“Not by choice this time. It seems like we’ve been chosen.”
“Yeah, I heard about that,” Yappy said with a wide grin.
Annie looked up and down the alley. The blue van Mrs. Coleman had seen was gone and likely the abductor was gone with it.
She wandered down the access road. A big orange dumpster a few stores away, a rusty vehicle which looked abandoned, trash and litter everywhere, but no signs of life in this nearly forgotten street.
She nodded to Yappy and went back inside. Hank was talking to Jameson and Jake stood beside him. The bulk of the job was done, with most of the contents removed.
She wanted to see what was downstairs where Mrs. Coleman had been held. She caught Jake’s eye and he came over to her.
“Let’s go downstairs,” she said.
“I think they’re finished down there,” Jake said, as he headed for the steps. “It should be ok.”
Annie followed Jake down the stairs. They stood at the bottom and looked around. The floor was a disarray of broken boards, wood chips, splinters and . . . blood?
Annie stepped over to the wall. This must be where Mrs. Coleman had beaten back her abductor. She knelt and examined the floor. The porous concrete had soaked up most of a small pool of drying blood, and blood was sprayed across the broken boards. The kidnapper had survived and somehow picked his way up the stairs. He was likely the one who’d taken the van and would be long gone.
She stood and scanned the room. This was undoubtedly the same place the doctor’s wife was held and perhaps where she’d been murdered. She shuddered when she saw a broken chair and recognized it as the same chair both victims had been tied to when photographed.
Jake was examining the ceiling. “It’s no wonder this all came down. The ceiling joists are almost completely deteriorated by dry rot. I’m surprised it lasted this long and when Mrs. Coleman knocked out the support pole, the whole thing came tumbling down.”