Merciless deaths, p.15
Merciless Deaths, page 15
We were passing Geena’s orange house. A quick glance showed that the lights were on, but there was no sign of her.
“Grayson’s in bigger trouble than he knows,” I said, picking up my pace. “First thing tomorrow morning, I’m going to see where I can rent a sidearm.”
“Do you think—”
A door banged open, silencing her.
Yellow light flooded through the open doorway of Grayson’s house. The silhouette of a man in a wheelchair was at the top of the ramp that had been custom built for his chair. He was looking our way.
I ran up to Grayson.
“Didn’t I tell you to keep your door locked until we got here?”
He gave me a dazed look. The lines on his forehead had deepened like he had aged years in the hour since we left him. Mumbling under his breath, he gestured for us to follow him inside.
Katy and I leaped up the stairs, got in, and locked the door behind us.
I scanned the living room. It looked exactly as we had left it only an hour or so ago.
“Did someone try to break in?” I said.
“What?” said Grayson, rubbing his temple. “No, no. Nothing like that,” he mumbled as he rolled across the living room. “I heard a knock a few minutes ago, and I found this.”
Katy and I followed him across the living room and into the open kitchen. He pointed at a mid-sized cardboard box sitting on the counter.
“Someone left this on my doorstep.”
I got closer to scrutinize the box. There were no markings or shipping labels on the outside. I noticed a pair of scissors lying on the counter next to it.
The box had already been opened.
Grayson reached toward it, but his hands were shaking. He pulled his hands back and wiped his face. He was sweating, profusely.
“What’s in there?” said Katy.
“Wait,” I said, pulling my friend away from the counter. “It’s not a bomb, is it?”
Grayson gave me a shocked look, but didn’t answer.
I tried again. “Did you see any wires, anything electric, a detonator?”
“No, no, nothing like that…” But his lips were quivering. He looked like he was at the verge of a collapse. “It’s er… er… you really need to see it.”
“Step aside,” I said, and turned to Katy.
With a nod, she took Grayson’s wheelchair by the handles and pushed him to the other end of the kitchen. He wrung his hands, mumbling darkly to himself.
Whatever was in this box had disturbed him greatly.
Using a dishcloth that had been hanging from the oven door, I gently pushed the box toward me. Even through the cloth, I could feel the cold emanating from inside.
Katy watched me, her eyes on the box.
I wondered if Grayson had ordered takeout but had forgotten he did. He had been a nervous man when I first met him, but he didn’t seem like he had his faculties intact anymore.
Creating makeshift gloves with the dishcloth, I flipped the top flaps open and peeked inside. All four sides of the box were lined with blue freezer bags, the kind you’d used to create an icebox for a picnic.
I turned the flaps all the way back. Katy came over and leaned in just as I reached into the box.
She sprang back with a cry.
I pulled my hand away and stared at the thing lying snuggled in between the four freezer bags.
It was a severed hand. The dried blood was still visible at the disjointed end.
Chapter Thirty-five
Katy looked away, a hand on her throat, making gagging noises.
Grayson clasped and unclasped his hands obsessively, and continued to mumble to himself like he was repeating a prayer.
“Mr. Grayson,” I said. “We need to take this to the police.”
He gave a cursory nod, but didn’t look up.
“I know who this belongs to,” I said.
Grayson looked up and sat up straight, suddenly paying attention.
“There’s someone in the hospital right now with a missing hand. The young man who was thrown out of the same van that followed us to the bank heist.”
He stared at me mutely. My gut was warning me again. Grayson hadn’t told us the complete story.
“Is there anything you haven’t shared with us about this case?”
Silence.
He wasn’t helping us or himself, I thought. With a resigned sigh, I turned back to the box to close it. That was when I spotted it.
My heart jumped to my mouth.
Using the dishcloth to hold both top flaps, I flipped the box to the side on the granite counter.
“Don’t!” cried Katy, stepping back in horror, a hand over her mouth.
The severed limb tumbled out and fell onto the counter.
All the air got sucked out of the room. Grayson stopped muttering and his face turned white. Katy stared at the hand, her mouth open.
I pointed at the grotesque limb. “See this?”
There was a tattoo of half an angel between the thumb and the index finger.
I turned to Grayson. “Can you guess who this is from?”
He shook his head. Then, he looked away.
“Did Lily’s boyfriend have any tattoos?”
“No….” He swallowed hard. “I thought… Jane… Jane thought he would be tattooed all over, but he was clean.”
“What about Lily?”
His eyes widened.
“What are you…?” He spluttered. “Of course not. Jane would have been very upset if she had got a tattoo. What are you saying?”
“Mr. Grayson, I believe this hand belongs to Lily’s boyfriend. He’s alive. I’m going to ask you again. Is there anything else we need to know this case? ”
Instead of replying, he doubled over. Soon, we heard him retching.
We got little sleep that night.
Katy tossed and turned in bed while I tried to make myself comfortable on the couch at the guest house.
Suddenly, a silhouette sprang up on the bed and my friend’s frustrated voice cut through the darkness.
“Why do we have to have it in here?”
I turned toward her with a tired sigh.
“Because it’s safe here.”
“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have left it at his house. It was sent to him, not us.”
“A detached hand in a freezer bag isn’t going to bite us.”
I could feel her eyes on me like angry laser beams from across the room.
“Yes, but you stuck it in our fridge. That’s where we have the pizza, for heaven’s sake. Beyond gross.”
“We can’t leave it outside,” I said, now wishing I’d brought my sleeping tablets with me. The low-level headache that had been plaguing me all day was transforming into a full-blown migraine.
“We can’t leave it at Grayson’s house, either. Didn’t you see the way he was? So out of it. He could throw it away or destroy it, and after all that has happened, I don’t blame the man.”
Grayson had looked relieved when I’d told him I’d take the limb to the guest house for safeguarding till we talked to the police the next morning.
He had agreed to my plan, nodding mutely, and had wheeled himself into the elevator without a word. Katy and I had seen ourselves out, after checking all the windows and entrances, and making sure his door locked from the inside.
“Why would anyone do such a thing?” came Katy’s voice from the bed.
I sat up on the couch and pulled my blanket around my shoulders. I wouldn’t get any rest until she fell asleep.
“Whoever they are, they’re after Grayson,” I said. “This has something to do with his missing wife and our stint in the bank vault. It’s all connected.”
“This is so out of the world. But why?”
I rubbed my temple.
“It’s the usual culprits. Money, sex, or greed. We just have to ask the right questions to the right people to get to the bottom of it.”
I paused as another thought came to me.
“We need to start with the officers who had Jane Grayson’s file.”
“Oh, boy. Davies will be super happy to see us, I’m sure,” came Katy’s plaintive voice. “They’re going to tell us to stop interfering and go home, again.”
“Grayson hired me for a job, and I plan on finishing it.”
“We.”
“No, just me. As soon as the hospital releases Win, you and she will get on the first flight back to New York.”
“Don’t tell me you’re doing this because you’re having fun. We almost died in the bank.”
I silently cursed myself for not leaving Katy and Win behind in New York. “That’s exactly why I need you two out of here ASAP.”
“And you?” came my friend’s high-pitched voice.
“I made a promise. I’m going to stay and finish this job.”
“Who’s going to tell David?”
“I will,” I said in a quiet voice. “I’m not doing this just for the money, you know. I’m also not doing this just because of Grayson.”
“Then, why?”
The disfigured face of the young woman in the body bag flittered across my mind. “To figure out who killed that girl.”
I turned my head her way. “Please go to sleep. We can chat in the morning.”
I listened to her ruffling the sheets as she tried to settle back in bed, my mind fully alert now. Soon, I heard gentle snores from her corner as my friend succumbed to her exhaustion.
There was something else I wanted to speak to the police about, but I needed to be certain before I shared that key piece of information with Grayson or Katy.
I leaned back on my couch and stared out of the large bay windows.
Outside, the moon was almost full. Its pale beams fell on the lake water, reflecting an unearthly green glow.
The loon called again, as if it knew I was awake, listening. That sound should have been comforting, but it felt like a warning.
A warning of things worse to come.
Chapter Thirty-six
“They’re not permitted in here, sir,” said a familiar male voice.
“I’m not coming in without them,” said Grayson through the open doorway.
Katy and I were at the police station after a long, troubled, and sleepless night. But a cold shower and a quick pizza breakfast had been enough for me to wake up and clear my head. I had a job to do.
Katy and I stood behind Grayson’s wheelchair while uniformed officers and civilians bustled around us, coffee cups, thick files, and phones in hand. I had the cardboard box in mine, which Katy had refused to carry, let alone touch.
Grayson had sat slumped in my backseat on our way here, his folded wheelchair in the seat next to him. I had checked on him several times through the rearview mirror, but he hadn’t spoken or looked up during the entire ride. It had seemed like the only thing that held him upright was the seat belt.
There was something about Chris Grayson I didn’t get.
He didn’t act like the typical wealthy businessperson I met in my line of work. They were usually extremely confident, strong-minded, results-oriented people who rarely showed weakness, even during the most grueling of circumstances that would break a normal person.
In contrast, Grayson was feeble, frightened, and alone. A part of me wondered if this was an act.
Something also told me he hadn’t shared everything about his wife. It would have been because of shame, because he thought it irrelevant, or because he was hiding something from us. I wish I knew which it was.
“Sir, if you’d like to invite your attorney—” Davies began.
Grayson banged a fist on the arm of his wheelchair. “I don’t need a lawyer!”
Katy and I reeled back in surprise.
“What a change of attitude,” whispered Katy.
“More like it,” I whispered back and nodded.
“I just want to find my wife!” Grayson shook his fist in the air. “You lot have done nothing. I don’t think you even tried.”
Davies’ face crumpled for a second, but he recovered quickly. Jane Grayson’s file was his kryptonite.
With a resigned sigh, he opened the door wide. Grayson pushed his wheelchair past him without even a glance back. Davies stood in his spot by the doorway, glaring at us.
“Didn’t Thomas tell you to leave town?” he hissed as we stepped in to follow Grayson.
“Grayson hired me to do a job, and I mean to finish it,” I snapped back.
“Are you aware that I can charge you with interfering with police business?”
I suppressed a sudden and juvenile urge to open the box and throw the severed limb in his face.
“Seems like you’re in the mood for wasting public funds. Go right ahead. Good luck finding anything that will stick.”
With an incensed snarl, Davies spun on his heels and marched through the corridor to where Thomas was standing with Grayson.
The five of us entered the office silently.
It was disheartening to be back in the same interrogation room where Katy and I had spent hours, only the day before.
This time, the space felt claustrophobic. On top of Grayson, Thomas, Davies, Katy, and me, Officer Lee stood by the door, watching us with a sharp eye.
I wondered why they thought to have an armed guard in here. Did they expect us to get violent?
I placed the cardboard box in the middle of the table.
“A present for you, gentlemen.”
Davies and Thomas raised their eyebrows.
“This was left at my doorstep last night,” said Grayson.
“What’s that smell?” said Thomas, sniffing the air suspiciously.
The severed hand had been sitting in the boot of my car long enough to emanate a slight rotting odor. Either Katy, Grayson, and I had got used to it or it hadn’t affected us as much since we knew what it was.
Davies leaned toward it, frowning. “What’s in it?”
I pushed the box toward him. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”
With an impatient sneer, Davies flipped the top open. He staggered back with a surprised yell, turning his chair over. He careened toward the officer by the door, his face pale with fright.
Thomas stood up and peered into the opened box. He froze as his eyes fell on the gruesome object.
“My good lord,” he said finally.
Davies was spinning in place by the door, keeping a safe distance.
“Take that away,” he shouted at Lee. “To the morgue!”
Officer Lee’s eyebrows shot up.
“Do I call the bomb squad, sir?”
“If it was a bomb, would I ask you to take it to the morgue?”
She didn’t move.
“Now!” shouted Davies, covering his nose.
Lee stepped up to the table and, without even looking inside, snapped the flaps shut. Without a word, she whirled around and marched toward the open door, box in hand.
“Put it in the freezer!” Thomas shouted at her disappearing back. “Tell Dr. Melnyk he needs to examine it right away.”
I sat in my chair, observing them, waiting quietly for the panicking and hollering to die down.
Thomas and Davies walked back to the table and stood behind their chairs, staring at us, accusing expressions on their faces.
“What the hell were you thinking?” said Davies.
“You could have warned us,” said Thomas.
“Someone left that box at Mr. Grayson’s doorstep,” I said. “That means it was someone inside the gates. If I were you, I’d be questioning all the residents along the pier.”
“We’re not looking for advice on how to do our jobs,” growled Davies.
Thomas frowned at me. “We’ll be doing that and much more, Ms. Kade. You need to leave this work for the professionals.”
“We saw a man get thrown off the back of a van at the emergency ward entrance,” I said, ignoring his snide comment. “His right hand was a stump, covered in blood and patched up with a dirty cloth. I’m sure your people at the hospital already told you about it.”
“Your point being?” said Thomas.
“I got the license plate number down and gave it to the hospital security officer. It was the same vehicle that followed us in the limo. That van was their getaway car.”
Thomas and Davies didn’t say a word, but their eyes darted back-and-forth. Grayson said nothing, his hands limp on his lap.
“There’s a connection between what happened to us, the dead woman in the vault, the young man with his hand cut off, and Jane Grayson’s disappearance. Figure out what the common thread is and you’ll find Chris's wife.”
“I love a conspiracy theory just the same as you,” said Davies, shaking his head.
“Chris is a well-known businessman in this town,” said Thomas with a heavy sigh. “This isn’t the first time we’ve seen such threats sent to wealthy business owners. This hand might have nothing to do with Jane’s disappearance.”
“Are you saying people cut off each other’s hands regularly in this city?” said Katy, giving him an innocent look.
Thomas turned a stern face to her, one a headmaster would give a naughty student.
“We have an entire team of officers on these files. We don’t jump to conclusions. We examine facts and make evidenced-based decisions.”
“In your haste to get that box away from this room, it seems you may have missed a valuable piece of evidence,” I said.
“That box will be examined inch by inch,” said Davies. “Don’t teach us to suck egg—”
“So, you didn’t see the tattoo between the thumb and index finger?”
Thomas jerked his head back slightly. Davies gave me a surprised look.
“Of course I did,” snapped Davies, but he wasn’t making eye contact anymore.
“I’ve seen that tattoo before,” I said. “I think it’s your most important clue.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
“Remember the body inside the vault?” I said.
Thomas and Davies exchanged a nervous glance.
“Dr. Melnyk started his procedure this morning and didn’t mention any missing limbs,” said Davies quietly.
I sat up in my chair.
