The Cruelest Cut (7 page)

“So what are you after?” the police chief asked the man he knew to be legal counsel for Channel Six, David Wires. He was afraid he knew the answer to his question, but so far they had only hinted at what their information was. He wanted them to put it in their own words so there would be no misunderstanding. He'd found over the years that the best way to deal with the media was to be honest, even if it meant telling them nothing more than “Sorry, we're not releasing information yet.” He knew that if you tried to cut them out of the loop, they would report whatever they had no matter how wrong or harmful it was.

Maddy looked pleased. She was sure the police chief wouldn't have interrupted his day if she wasn't on to something big.

“We want in,” Maddy answered for Wires, and smiled. David Wires, the attorney, was smiling, too. He had said little, but he was the hammer poised to drive the point home if they didn't get what they wanted. Maddy knew it, the attorney knew it, and she was sure that Chief Pope knew it as well.

Before the chief could answer, his secretary peeked in to announce that Captain Franklin and the detectives were there. Pope let out an audible sigh and motioned for them to be shown in.

 

Eddie sat in the van watching the silly bitch flitting from one aisle to another in the roadside store. She had deviated from her normal route home, and it was pissing him off. They had driven all the way out of Evansville on Highway 57, where she then stopped in the little town of Daylight. He'd taken advantage of the stop to fill his gas tank, but now he cursed under his breath as he waited for her to head home.

It didn't help that Bobby was in one of his silent moods and hadn't said a word since they'd left the parking garage at the hospital.

Finally Eddie could stand the silence no longer. “Okay. So what's the fuckin' deal, Bobby?”

Bobby looked at him without answering, which only added to Eddie's anger. “We followed this nurse twice last week, and both times she went straight home. What the hell is she doin'?” Eddie demanded.

Bobby shook his head and smiled. “Eddie, you gotta relax, man. It don't matter where you do her. You just do her and leave the note,” he said with a smirk.

“Well, what if she's driving to fuckin' New York or somethin'? We gonna follow her to New York, Bobby?”

“Hell, if we whack her out of town, so much the better,” Bobby said calmly and leaned back and closed his eyes.

Eddie was starting to smile now. Bobby was right. If they whacked her somewhere out of town, it would show Murphy how far they would go to get at him.

“Like a long-distance wake-up call,” Eddie said happily, and Bobby winked at him.

“Now you're getting the picture, bro,” Bobby said.

 

Introductions were made and then Wires stood and shook hands with Captain Franklin, but didn't offer to shake hands with Jack or Liddell.

“Guess they don't teach etiquette in law school,” Liddell whispered loud enough for the attorney to hear.

Chief Pope gave him a cautioning look and continued, “And of course, you all know Maddy Brooks.”

Liddell grabbed Maddy's diminutive hand in his huge ones, shaking it so hard it rattled her. “Big fan! Very big fan, Miss Brooks,” he said. Jack could tell she wasn't sure of his sincerity, but had no doubt that she could take care of herself.

“Well, you
are
big,” she said, looking Liddell up and down, to which everyone laughed. “Can I have my arm back now?” she asked, and they all laughed some more.

We're having such a wonderful time
, Jack thought. He wondered when he and Liddell would have to bend over and take one up the rear for the team. He already had an idea what was going on here because the chief's secretary had filled them in on what she had “accidentally” overheard. Apparently Channel Six had some source inside their murder investigation and was strong-arming the chief to go public. But out of respect for the chief and captain, Jack kept his thoughts to himself.

Chief Pope offered beverages, which were declined by everyone except Liddell. After Jennifer had brought his coffee, they all looked at each other.

Jack broke the silence. “Well, this was nice, but I have a murder or two to investigate, so if you'll excuse me.” He stood to leave, and Chief Pope said, “Sit down, Murphy!”

Liddell rolled his eyes at Jack like he was an incorrigible child, but Jack was out of patience. He said, “Oh, come on, Chief. We all know what this is about. These two are blackmailing you.”

Captain Franklin put a hand on Jack's arm and said, “Shut up, Jack, and sit down.” Jack took a deep breath and sat back down. A line from a sci-fi movie ran through his mind:
Resistance is futile, earthling.

Chief Pope addressed Maddy, saying, “Okay, Miss Brooks. If you have what you say, and you continue closely cooperating with my men, I will give you limited access to our investigation.”

Dave Wires spoke for the first time. “We will have full and continual access, or we will air the notes on the five o'clock news.” Wires didn't have to say that Maddy would also report on air that the police would not comment on the notes, which was as good as saying, “and the police, in an attempt to cover up, et cetera, et cetera.”

Captain Franklin looked at the chief, trying to read his expression. “I don't know what's going on here, Chief,” Franklin said. “But maybe we should see what Maddy actually has before we compromise our position.”

Maddy looked at David Wires, Esq., and he nodded. She opened her purse and pulled out several clear, plastic document protectors, each containing an envelope. Franklin took them from her and handed them to the chief. Pope's face took on an ashen tinge. He passed the papers to Franklin. Jack and Liddell looked over his shoulder.

All the papers and envelopes appeared to be handwritten in red crayon. The envelopes were all made out to Maddy Brooks at Channel Six. Jack recognized the first note as similar, if not identical, to the one he had recently seen in the Lewis murder file. The note read:

 

Will you have any more

My eyes are too sore.

they pay for your sins

 

The second note was identical to the one that Dr. Carmodi had found stuffed in Timmy Ryan's throat. It read:

 

he caught fishes
in other mens ditches
they pay for your sins

 

But what caught Jack's attention was the last note:

 

so many children
there will be more
Jack

 

No note had been left at the murder scene of the Lamar children. But, except for the addition of his name, the killer had written these same words in blood on the wall of that room.

Franklin looked at Jack but addressed his question to Maddy, saying, “When did you get these, Miss Brooks?” Jack could feel his pulse rising, and then Maddy asked the question he had feared.

“We're talking about a serial killer who has something against Detective Murphy, aren't we?”

Liddell picked up the notes and was looking at them when he murmured, “Guy's leaving messages, but they don't mean anything.”

Chief Pope cast an angry look at Liddell and put his hands up. “Okay. Let's not get carried away here, folks. We don't know if these notes are involved. We've never said anything about notes being left at murder scenes. These notes are written in crayon. Anyone could be sending these notes to you, Maddy. Maybe someone at your job is playing a practical joke?” he suggested. “So, what makes you so sure of this?”

Jack thought the chief had a point. Nothing had been released to the public about notes being left behind at any of the murder scenes.

Maddy looked like the Cheshire Cat as she leaned forward in her chair. “I knew you would ask that, Chief. And the truth is that I didn't know the notes were definitely involved until I got this one.”

She reached in her handbag, and brought out another plastic bag with a note inside. But before she would show it to the men she said, “When I got the third note, the one about the children, I started thinking these must be about the murders. So I confirmed with a source that you found notes at two of the three murder scenes.” She held up three fingers and counted off, “Dr. Lewis and her husband were murder number one. Timmy Ryan, murder number two. And last, the Lamar kids, where, as you can see, he clearly refers to Detective Murphy. But you didn't get a note at that scene, Jack. The killer left another kind of message there, didn't he?”

Jack ignored her probing question and said, “Let's see the new note.”

Maddy tried to stare him down, but she could see he wasn't going to answer her question before he saw the latest note. “I received this at the station about an hour ago.” She handed the bag to Jack, who glanced at it and handed it to the chief.

As Chief Pope read it, his normally dark complexion turned to the waxy color of yellow coal. He handed the note to Franklin, who read it out loud:

 

Jack be nimble

Jack be quick

Jack jump over
the candlestick

 

Franklin traded a look with the chief, and then to Maddy he said, “Okay. Who's your source?”

“Oh, no you don't. You know I don't have to name my sources,” she said smugly. “Let's just say it's a reliable source that's close to the investigation.”

Chief Pope looked around the room. He knew that none of the men in this room would ever talk to the news media about an active murder investigation. But he also knew that policemen loved to brag about their importance, so it could have been any one of the dozens of officers that were at any of the three crime scenes. Or a crime scene tech. Or another detective. Then he remembered that the investigation of the death of Dr. Lewis and her husband had been the responsibility of Deputy Chief Dick. Any investigation Dick was involved in was sure to spring leaks big enough to sink the
Titanic
.

Jack, also, had an idea who had leaked to the news media, but it didn't really matter, because from the look of resignation on the chief's face, he was sure they had bigger problems.

Pope stood up and said, “I think I should call the city attorney.”

“We'll wait,” Maddy said, and Chief Pope left his own office to make the call in private.

Maddy looked around the walls of the chief's office. She noticed the diploma from the University of Louisville, awarded to Marlin L. Pope, master of science in criminology. In another frame next to it, was a master's degree in business administration, an MBA, from Indiana State University.

Liddell saw her checking out the diplomas and said, “He's a smart man. We all respect him.”

Maddy feigned a hurt look. “I respect him,” she said.

“I'm just sayin',” Liddell said in a cautioning tone. Wires looked as if he wanted to defend Maddy, but then, seeing the size of his opponent, he opted to keep quiet.

Chief Pope came back in the office and sat behind his desk. “Okay, this is what we are willing to do,” he said.

The Indiana State Parole Office was in a yellow-brick building with a full glass front that had been built around 3000
BC
, so it was pretty new as far as government buildings go. The heavy glass door in front sported the Great Seal of the State of Indiana, which looked like some guy with an axe chasing a buffalo through the woods. Jack had never seen a buffalo until he took a trip to Montana a couple of years ago, but in the great way-back there must have been buffalo in Indiana. Guys with axes probably chased them all out of the state.

Jack entered and walked down a narrow hallway to the receptionist window, making note of the fist-sized holes in the drywall on both sides where misunderstood criminals had vented their frustration at the attempts of the state to keep them from reoffending.

The receptionist, Ms. Johnson-Heddings, sat in her usual spot behind the thick glass window, with her lined and leathery hatchet face, and her hair pulled back in a severe bun so tight it seemed to give her a face-lift.

“You're looking especially lovely today,” Jack remarked with what he hoped was a disarming smile.

Her face cracked into a smile that could melt the heat shields off the space shuttle, but Jack had learned not to look directly into it.

“Do you have an appointment, sir?” she asked icily.

Thinking that her hair was pulled back so tight that it might have caused some brain damage, Jack said, “It's me. Jack!” He smiled and pinched his own cheek in a grandmotherly way. “You know—your favorite son. Little Jacky.”

“You're not my son,” she said severely.

“Can you tell Susan I'm here?” he asked.

“Jack. Come on back.” Susan's voice came from around a corner.

He did a short drumbeat on the counter. “It's been great seeing you again,” he said and walked down the hall, feeling the heat of her stare.

Susan's office always looked like an earthquake had hit. She sat behind a pile of books and folders that Jack knew had a desk under them somewhere. He'd been to her house a couple of times and always wondered how the clean freak that lived there could have an office like this.

“I'd give you a pure and chaste peck on the cheek, but Ms. You-Know-Who might forcefully evict me,” he said and was rewarded with a chuckle.

“She takes her work very seriously, Jack. Be nice,” Susan chastised him.

“Okay. I'll try.” Jack looked for a chair, and then remembered that there were three in the office the last time he was there. Now he couldn't see any lump that looked like it might have a chair under it, so he gave up and stood.

“I need you to do something for me, Susan,” he said.

“That's it?” Susan said, getting up and coming around her pile of papers. “No foreplay? No ‘My, you look stunning' or even a ‘Hello'?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a full-body kiss that made his knees sag. He was still standing there as she sat back in her chair, smiling. “Okay, now what else can I do for you?”

Jack cleared his throat and to his shame actually did look around to see if Ms. Heddings was lurking nearby with a Bible and a leather belt. “Wow! Okay,” he said, and then told her about the developments of the day—the murders, the notes, the imbedding of the news media, and his reason for being there, the personal nature of the notes.

Susan was a pro, but she seemed shocked by the revelation of the notes. “I heard about the children, Jack,” she said. “I started to call and see how you were doing, but I know how you hate to be fussed over.”

Jack looked at her with renewed respect. It was great to have a relationship with someone who could understand what you were doing and give you the support you really needed without reminding you how much you needed mental help. He would never have been able to talk to Katie, his ex-wife, about any of this. She was a sixth-grade teacher, and her worst day was a kid throwing up in the classroom. He envied Katie that innocence and had always believed that keeping his dark view of the world from her was a noble thing. But it was different with Susan. His world was almost the same as hers. He didn't have to sugarcoat.

“I need you to go through your records and see if anyone is out on parole that might be doing these things, sending these notes—someone who would have a personal grudge against me,” he said.

“Already on it,” she said and indicated a stack of files on the floor beside the doorway. “Ms. Heddings made copies for you.” Jack raised an eyebrow.

“She's been listening to the news, too, Jack. I think she has a soft spot for you. We didn't know about the notes, of course, so those are all the files we came up with as possible for the killer. On top is a list of all of our parolees, but there are hundreds of those.”

“Well, I had better get back,” Jack said and collected the folders from the floor.

“If you need anything…” Susan said.

“This will get me started. Thanks,” he said.

Ms. Johnson-Heddings was scowling as he stopped at her counter.

“Thanks, Mom,” Jack said, indicating the stack of folders.

“I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about,” she said.

After Jack left, her face softened.
That man can really be a smart-ass,
she thought, and allowed herself a smirk.