Death behind every door, p.24
Death Behind Every Door, page 24
“Aye, I did wonder,” Brian admitted.
“And you’d seen the news. You knew what had happened in other places. So, what did you think?” Luke asked softly.
The man looked as if he was going to cry. “I guess...I don’t think that it was real to me. I mean, I wanted someone to slap my enemies around, humiliate them...but you’re right. I should have known. And...maybe in a sick way I did, but when I saw Joan now...she was so sorry, and because of me, she might have died, and she’s covered in bandages and they’re afraid that her wounds could turn septic and...I deserve whatever happens to me.”
“Brian, you have cooperated,” Carly reminded him. “We—we’re not judge and jury and we are Americans learning about the law in different countries. But you have a chance—”
“I’m better most of the time. They’ve given me a good psychiatrist!” he told them.
“That’s great. Don’t mess with your medication, okay? It’s important that you take it consistently as it’s prescribed. Check with the doctor if it needs to be adjusted and never screw with it yourself!” Luke said.
Brian Blackstone nodded. “I will not!” he swore. He frowned suddenly. “I don’t know this...but I think that the creator has... Well, I don’t think that he started with the H. H. Holmes Society. He is like the wind. He can come and go. I believe I might have seen him if I hadn’t been arrested. I think he would have been where I would have been told to go...a dress shop, I understand from Joan. A dress shop that led straight to hell.”
“We do believe he is still in Scotland,” Luke said.
“That’s not what I’m trying to tell you...what I think. Someone on the chat one day was talking about fake IDs and passports, and the creator chimed right in,” Brian said.
“We know he has a fake passport, an ironic one,” Luke said.
“No, no, I mean, I think he has a lot of passports. And he had to have money to have started this thing—I think that he must have spent some time in jail or prison and made a lot of connections to lead him to stashes of money or those who can create passports and all, though I have no idea what country that might have been in. English speaking, though. That does seem to be his language,” Brian said. “Thing is, in a chat room, you don’t hear accents, so...”
“Did he use words that suggest a country?” Carly asked.
Brian was thoughtful for several minutes. Then a light came to his eyes and he looked at them excitedly. “Once, he wrote that he was going to go and watch ‘footy on the telly.’ I mean, I guess that could be Britain—but it sounds like Australia. Maybe even New Zealand. But...”
“Not American,” Luke murmured, looking at Carly.
She shrugged. “Unless he purposely uses different regionalisms.”
“Well, we need to see Duncan,” Luke said. “Brian, we wish you well. And of course—”
“Thank you,” Brian said. “I will make sure to reach you if anything else comes to mind, I promise!”
They left his room. Campbell was in the hall; he’d been speaking with one of the officers but excused himself when he saw them.
“Get to headquarters—I think Duncan can set you up. How is Mr. Blackstone? Anything else from him?” Campbell asked.
“I believe he’s trying,” Carly said. “He might have been someone who should have been on the right medications years ago.”
Campbell nodded. “That’s the assessment of the psychiatrist we have seeing him.”
“And still,” Luke warned. “He could be a hell of an actor, trying to weasel his way out of some major charges. But, in my gut, I am pulled toward believing he regrets the way that his lack of self-esteem took him.”
“Well, I’m going to say that it’s different with Mildred—our fake Margaret Crowley. That woman goes beyond the bounds of insanity.”
“And yet she managed to run that shop,” Carly said.
“I didn’t say that she wasn’t smart. Believe it or not, in my experience, many smart people wind up becoming members of cults or falling for the lies of politicians and others, sometimes because the lies benefit them, and sometimes because the human mind is a maze itself. But Duncan believes that he’s cracked a way into the website as an adherent. Best get to him.”
“On our way,” Luke told him. “Oh, by the way, if our poor, madly deluded Miss Mildred comes up with anything else—”
“You will know immediately,” Campbell promised them.
They headed out. As they did so, Luke turned to Carly and said, “Let’s get in touch with Jackson. They’ll be working in both places to keep the website down. We need it up until I can get on it.”
“You’re going to re-create your past?” she asked him.
He grimaced. “I’ll do a good job—I promise you.”
“I can be the sickie, if you prefer.”
He was thoughtful. “I think he kills men for money, more than for the need to torture. He prefers his associates to be male.”
“What about our psycho, Mildred?”
“He had to have a woman to take on the identity of another woman, but I wonder if even he didn’t have a few concerns about her mental state. She provided what he needed, and I have a feeling that if we hadn’t come through when we did—and he’d had a chance—she might have been a true victim rather than an accomplice,” Luke said.
“Maybe. But—”
“He kills without compunction or regret, but he does take on the Holmes role very seriously. He also kills for money. Anyway, let’s get a hold of Jackson.”
Carly nodded and pulled out her phone, putting through the call and announcing again that she had the phone on speaker.
“I know you’re working on getting the site down again,” Luke said.
“Angela believes we’re almost there,” Jackson said.
“Hold off about thirty minutes?” Luke asked.
“Luke, there are already a few—”
“I know, I know, and we’ll hurry. But we have to get to the real thing before it continues to get worse and worse. I believe that I can set up a meet,” Luke told him.
“Oh?”
Luke explained that he wanted to go in as an “assistant,” with Carly showing up right after to become an intended victim.
“You’ll be playing with fire,” Jackson said.
“Aren’t we doing that already?” Carly asked him.
“Point taken. Be careful,” Jackson warned. “And updates—”
“Every step of the way,” Luke promised. “Angela is on the site?”
“She is.”
“She’ll see what I’m doing. I’m going to be John Smith—already have a false ID in that name.” He frowned, glancing at Carly.
“I didn’t come supplied with fake IDs—it wasn’t in the job description. But he doesn’t know me, so my own passport should suffice.”
“He’s seen you, Carly,” Jackson reminded her. “If you saw him in the museum at Graystone Castle, then he’s seen you.”
“And I don’t see that as a problem. That’s something I’d talk to him about right away, if I got to meet him,” Carly said. “Jackson, we’ll both be there. If he befriends Luke, Luke will be there. That’s why we’re partners, right?”
“I wish I could send in a squad,” Jackson muttered.
“You need warrants, Jackson. We don’t know where we’re going yet, and if we did, we still couldn’t just demand that the local authorities go in and search a place. This is our best option,” Luke told him.
“Buy a new burner phone, now,” Jackson advised.
“That’s right,” Carly murmured. “If you can catch his attention, he’ll play the same game he did with Brian Blackstone—get you on the line, then somewhere alone, and he’ll call.”
“Got it,” Luke said.
“Fine. We’ll watch your chat,” Jackson said. “Go for it.”
They ended the call.
Luke glanced at Carly. “I’m more worried about you.”
“What? No lack of faith in your own abilities?”
“Hey, that’s putting me between a rock and a hard place!”
She smiled. “I have infinite faith. And I’m just dying to see your chat.”
“Not dying is the whole point,” he reminded her.
She smiled. “Hey. Aren’t you supposed to have infinite faith in me, too?”
“I do. I just...”
“Hey!” she said, turning to him. “This is what we do, remember? And me failing you, losing you, is something that scares me, too. So, we trust in our training, in our abilities—and our guts!”
Luke nodded, grimaced and changed the subject. “Place up ahead. We’ll get new phones and report back.”
“Yep.”
They quickly acquired the phones they needed and returned to the car. Carly sent their numbers to headquarters and Campbell as Luke drove.
They reached the offices where the computer crew was waiting.
“All right,” Luke said. “Showtime!”
Duncan was waiting for them with the rest of his team. His computer was up—on the H. H. Holmes Society site.
“Can’t he trace the computers back here?” Luke asked.
“Not with the tangle around the world we’ve managed and all our firewalls... Trust me. Come on—we’re computer geeks,” Duncan told them.
“Sadly, nerds,” Liz said. “That made life a little hard in secondary school, but now...now it feels like we’re on top of the world.”
“And you are,” Carly assured her. “Today’s world, hell yes! You are on top of it!”
“Let me get to it,” Luke said.
“Set you up right over there,” Duncan said, pointing to a pair of chairs and a computer. “Just hit the key—join chat. I’ve already set up a fake profile.”
Luke glanced at Carly. She smiled grimly and took the seat next to him.
She watched as he hesitated a second and then typed, starting with his admiration.
Tough world we’re in, and we need people like you! he wrote, using the handle Slashsmith. He glanced at her. She shrugged and nodded and he wrote again. And you have mastered it. I humbly offer up my greatest praise!
Means to an end, eh? someone wrote—handle Creepy Crawler.
Wish I could have used this as a means to an end, Luke put in.
What was your beef? Someone else, Death-Toll.
Wish I could have taken my old man to a ‘castle.’ The bastard continually beat the shit out of me, alcoholic son of a bitch. Then there was Gordie from the soccer team. Thought he was God. I didn’t get big until my early twenties. Time in a gym helped with that.
Another person entered the chat. Homeboy. So, where is your old man? Don’t feel regret—go for the kill before it’s too late.
It is too late. The old bastard died from a rotten liver. But Gordie is still out there. I wish...well, hell, I want to get him one day. I could use some practice. Man, if I can ever get to that creep, I want to... I want to make him suffer. Real pain. For hours. All the while him knowing that it’s all over, that when the agony ends at last, it’s lights out.
Silverware. Test out some silverware. You got a number? Homeboy wrote.
Yeah, yeah! Luke wrote in the number of his new burner.
Eleven. Tomorrow, opening. Alone. Moo, Homeboy wrote.
Homeboy left the session. Luke did, too.
“What the hell did any of that mean?” Ian asked, shaking his head.
“We know where and when,” Carly said, looking at Luke.
“Come on, you guys. This is Scotland!” Luke said lightly. “Silverware, often sterling silver, so...”
“Stirling,” Duncan said. “Stirling, Scotland. That’s where he’ll meet you. At 11:00 a.m. tomorrow.”
Luke nodded.
“But...‘moo’?” Liz asked.
Duncan was already tapping away at keys. “Yeah, there’s a place there called The Spotted Cow. I’m assuming that’s the meetup spot.”
“Thanks for all your help!” Luke said.
He looked at Carly. “Plan in action,” he told her. “So...”
“Let’s go, eat, get some sleep,” she said.
“Take her down?” Duncan asked Luke, referring to the site on the dark web.
“Take her down,” Luke agreed, nodding his approval. “And thank you, the three of you—you are on top of the world,” he declared.
Liz laughed. “And sitting behind a computer is a lot less dangerous than what you do!”
“And may save more lives,” Carly assured her.
Carly waved. And they were out.
In the car, Luke looked her way and asked, “Room service?”
“Hell no, I want to eat.”
“Meaning...”
“We really need food. And I’m afraid that—”
“I’m that irresistible?” he teased.
“You’re that—”
“Irresistible!” he crowed.
“No, I was going to say pushy and forward.”
“Oh, that hurts! I may deny you the pleasures of the flesh,” he laughed.
“Like hell you will!” she said, grinning. “Seriously, I’ll bet the restaurant is still open. We order dinner, we eat... No interruptions.”
“Fine. Be that way.” He smirked. “Want to report in?”
“Jackson and Angela were watching the chat.”
“Still. Check in. Just so they know that—”
“They’ll know the site is down. But...”
Carly dialed again. Jackson answered immediately and informed them that Police Scotland and members of the National Crime Agency were already alerted.
“Stirling is another popular spot for visitors and they come from all over the world. Stirling Castle is one of the most important in the country. Stirling Bridge is where William Wallace defeated the English. It’s also just beautiful countryside and we’re talking Highlands.”
“So lots of earth beneath the earth,” Carly murmured.
“Exactly,” Jackson said. “To get to the point, visitors have been disappearing—and it hasn’t been because they headed back home. It’s one of the locations—Stirling and its outskirts—that’s been brought up as the destination for a teacher who went missing—unmarried, no children, parents deceased—who didn’t appear for a never-miss lunch meeting with a friend. Also, a young artist who was looking for locations to paint. Folios coming your way. There are a couple of other possibilities on people being in the area and then disappearing. Angela and Duncan have been conferring on where in the area our Mr. Holmes might have found a willing subject with the right property for a base, and they’re down to two possibilities, doing some research on the owners and operators as we speak.”
“Thanks, Jackson. We’ll be heading out in the morning,” Carly told him.
“Stop by to see Duncan again—he’ll get GPS tracking on those burners,” Jackson said.
“Will do,” Luke promised.
They ended the call just as they reached parking for the hotel. As Carly had hoped, the restaurant was still open, but was about to close. They ordered quickly.
Luke shook his head, looking at her. “I’m not so irresistible, huh?”
“Luke, we barely made it in here.”
“Ah, yes. I see which hunger is first in your book.”
She grinned. “Okay, pay attention. This place is only open a little bit longer. To the best of my knowledge—and from what I’ve experienced—you’re a 24/7 gig.”
He laughed softly. “Okay, but where’s the romance? One night left alone before we plunge into the fire. Now, a true romantic would have run up the stairs—”
“Why? They have an elevator.”
He groaned softly. “Run up the stairs, made mad, passionate love, called down for room service, which, like me, is available 24/7 here. Then—”
“Then they’d have had to have gotten dressed—”
“And then dined and gone into mad, passionate disrobing again!”
Carly laughed. “Eat your fish!”
“I guess. Pretty much all we’ve eaten is fish.”
“You don’t have to order what I order,” Carly reminded him. “You can get a steak.”
“All I can think of is the long-haired cows. Those damned things are cute.”
“Lamb,” she suggested.
“Babies. I don’t eat babies.”
She grinned. “Well, if you finish your fish, I’ll be waiting. Romantically, I promise!”
She hadn’t really finished her meal but she’d had just what she wanted and needed. Grinning as she left him, she opted for the elevator.
Much easier and faster than the stairs. In the room, she hurriedly set her Glock in the bedside drawer, stripped and flew into the shower. Her intent was to be so quick that she could be posed and awaiting him.
But she hadn’t counted on the speed with which Luke could sign a tab and she was so focused that she jumped—and might have pulled her Glock from the drawer when his shadow suddenly appeared on the other side of the shower door.
“Hey! That’s a great way to get shot!” she warned him.
“Oh? Not for me.”
“You shower with your Glock?” she asked him.
“I keep it closer than you do.”
“Ah, well, I wasn’t planning on shooting you and you were the only one I was expecting.”
“Well, that’s good to hear!”
As he spoke, he moved closer to her. His body was against hers before his arms came around her.
“Last night,” he whispered.
“Hmm.”
“Hmm?”
“Last night. How does a woman take romantic words like that?” she asked.
“Well, we’re supposed to be a pair who have just met one another and...”
“Right. And people who have just met never have sex? What are all those bar-pickup one-night-stand guys famous for?”
