“Detective,” Krunk asked, “What can you tell me about the incident here?”
“I have no comment at this time.”
“Sources tell me a Randolph Farley was shot and killed this afternoon. Can you confirm that?”
Hank frowned. Lisa Krunk always seemed to have her sources. “Sorry, no comment at this time. We’ll be issuing a formal statement later,” he said.
She continued to follow him as he made his way to his vehicle. The camera still hummed as he pulled from the lot and drove away.
Saturday, August 13th, 6:00 PM
JEREMY enjoyed his little talks with Jenny. He’d forgiven her now, for what she’d done to him, but he still wasn’t sure whether he could trust her.
He was busy in the kitchen. He’d decided to make her a nice peanut butter and tomato sandwich, with a dill pickle on the side. That was one of his favorites, and he wanted to share the experience with her. So, he put together two meals on Mother’s best plates, and set them on a silver serving-tray along with two glasses of cold tomato juice.
He carried the tray carefully as he made his way out the door and across the yard. He balanced the tray on one hand, opened the barn door with the other, and slipped inside.
Jenny was sitting on her makeshift bed with a book in one hand. She looked up as he entered.
“I brought you something to eat,” he said.
She looked at him blankly, and watched as he walked over to her.
He set the tray on the blanket where she sat, and smiled at her. “I hope you like it. It’s my favorite. Peanut butter and tomato.”
She looked at the tray and frowned.
He handed her one of the plates. She took it and continued to watch him as he took the other plate and sat across from her, balancing it in his lap.
“Enjoy,” he said.
She took a tiny bite and curled up her nose. “It tastes funny,” she said.
He cocked his head, stared at her, and said, “It’ll grow on you.” He took a big bite and watched her while he chewed.
“I’m not hungry,” she said, as she set the sandwich down. “Maybe later.” She eyed the pickle. “I’ll just eat the pickle for now.” She picked it up and took a bite.
He swallowed and put his sandwich down. “I hope you had a good day, Jenny,” he said cheerfully.
She didn’t speak. She took a drink of the tomato juice and looked at him over the rim of the glass.
“Today has been a good day for me,” he said.
She showed no sign of interest.
He continued, “Today I eliminated another scumbag.”
She set the glass down. Her eyes narrowed, but she remained silent.
“Don’t you want to hear about it?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Don’t worry, Jenny, he was a bad guy.”
He took another bite of his sandwich, watching her while he chewed. She looked away a moment, and then looked down and sat silently.
“He deserved it,” he said.
She remained still.
“He was a thief,” he said, and then raised his voice, “Why don’t you want to hear about it?”
She looked intently at him, and said calmly, “Because I don’t think you should be the one who decides.”
“But they caught him, and then let him go. He was going to get away with it.” Angry now, he shouted, “Why can’t you understand that?”
She brought her hands to her mouth and cowered silently at his outburst.
He set his plate down and rose to his feet. He paced back and forth a couple of times, and then stopped and cupped his hands behind his back and stared down at her thoughtfully.
She leaned back against the barn wall and watched him.
“Jenny, if I let you go, what will you do?”
“I’ll just go home. I won’t tell them anything about you,” she said eagerly, and then thought a moment. “I’ll just say I was lost in the forest.”
“And what about your boyfriend?” he asked. “They found him, you know.”
Jenny looked confused.
“I buried him, but they found him yesterday.”
She dropped her head.
“No, I can’t let you go,” he said, and then pointed at the plate. “I have to take the plate back now. Are you going to eat that sandwich?”
She shook her head without looking up.
He crouched down and gathered up the dishes, setting them on the tray. He picked up the tray, stood to his feet and left without another word.
Saturday, August 13th, 8:30 PM
JAKE and Annie were sitting on the deck in the back yard, enjoying the evening and a cool drink. Matty was tossing a baseball up onto the roof of the house, and catching it as it rolled back down and slammed into his baseball glove.
The sky was beginning to glow red and orange on the horizon as the sun lowered. A light breeze cooled the air, and the neighborhood was quiet and peaceful.
“Hello?” a voice called.
Jake turned his head and looked over his shoulder. Hank was coming across the back yard toward them, carrying his briefcase.
Hank grinned. “I tried the doorbell. No answer, so I thought I would find you back here.”
Jake removed his feet from the lawn chair where they were resting comfortably, and kicked the chair back a couple of feet. “Have a seat.”
Hank sat and dropped his briefcase beside him, and leaned back. “Have you seen the news today?” he asked.
Jake shook his head.
Annie said, “No, not since this morning.”
“Another murder,” Hank announced, with a sigh.
Jake and Annie looked at each other, and then back at Hank.
“This one will interest you guys,” Hank said. “Remember that jewelry thief you caught at Cranstons?”
They nodded.
“Well,” Hank continued, “he’s the victim.”
Annie’s mouth dropped open and she leaned forward.
Jake whistled.
Hank continued, “He was released on bail this morning, and then shot to death in his apartment this afternoon, just before five o’clock.”
Hank picked up his briefcase and set it on his lap. He snapped it open and removed some papers.
“Now here’s the kicker,” Hank said. “I just got the M.E.’s report, as well as the ballistics report. It seems like we may have a connection.” He leafed through the papers.
Jake spoke. “A connection to . . .?”
“Maybe to all three murders.”
“Well, don’t keep us waiting.”
Hank grinned. “Your jewelry thief’s name was Randolph Farley. Farley was also cut across the face with a knife before he was shot. Now, according to the medical examiner, the knife used to cut Farley was the same one used on Mrs. Bellows.”
“Very interesting,” Jake said.
Hank continued, “Yeah, but here’s where it gets real interesting. Ballistics reports the gun used to shoot Farley . . . are you ready? . . .was the same gun used to shoot Chad Bronson.”
Jake’s mouth just hung open.
Annie was stunned and could only manage to say, “Wow!”
Jake stood and started pacing the deck, deep in thought.
Finally, Annie was able to speak. “It appears we have a serial killer,” she said slowly.
Hank rubbed his chin. “It sure does, but the odd thing is, serial killers don’t usually mix genders. Two men and a woman. Doesn’t make sense.”
Jake stopped pacing, and asked, “Then, what do these three have in common? It seems unlikely they knew each other. They’re all of different ages, as well. One’s a retired old woman, one’s a professional thief, and one is just a young guy.”
“That,” said Hank, “is what we need to figure out.”
Matty was bored, and he climbed up on the deck swinging his glove. He looked at them, and sighed, “I know. Adult talk. I’ll just go and watch some TV.” He headed for the door.
Jake laughed and tousled Matty’s hair as he went by. “We’ll be in in a few minutes, big guy.”
Annie watched Matty stroll inside the house, and then turned back to Hank and asked, “Did the investigators find any evidence at all to link them?”
“Other than the weapons, no. Nothing at this point. No unknown fingerprints at any scene, either.”
“And the blanket Chad was buried with?”
“Nothing. Some foreign fibers found on the blanket, and on Chad’s clothing, were from the trunk of a car, but they’re too common to tell the make of vehicle.”
“What about the footprint Annie photographed?” Jake asked.
Hank dug through his briefcase and retrieved a sheet of paper. “Forensics stated the shoe to be a size seven, but of unknown brand.”
“Size seven,” Annie repeated thoughtfully, frowning.
Jake sat quickly and leaned forward. He looked back and forth at Hank and Annie. “I know what they have in common,” he half shouted.
Hank and Annie waited.
“I didn’t tell you Hank, but last night at midnight, I went to King City Foods and spoke to one of Bronson’s co-workers. He couldn’t tell me too much, but he did have one interesting tidbit of information. He told me Bronson had been involved in a B&E a couple of years ago, but because he was a young offender, his record was sealed.”
“And?” Hank asked.
Annie cocked her head.
Jake continued, “This may be pushing it a bit, but all three of our victims were thieves. Bronson’s B&E. Mrs. Bellows and the pork chop, and the jewelry thief.”
Hank sat back and frowned. He looked at Annie, and then back at Jake. “It’s possible.”
“It’s possible, if it’s a serial killer,” Annie said.
Hank agreed, “Serial killers are psychopaths. The reasons they have, to justify their killing spree, are usually something an ordinary person can’t understand. But in their mind, it’s justified.”
“Assuming that’s the link, then, does that help us determine who the killer is?” Annie asked.
“I’m not a forensic psychologist by any means,” said Hank, “but if that’s the link, then, what we have here, is a psychopath who has a need to kill thieves. A psychologist would determine, at one point, some kind of harm was inflicted on him by a thief, and he feels a compulsion to hate, and obviously want to kill them.”
“Is that possible?” Jake asked.
“With a psychopath, anything is possible.”
Annie looked at Jake. “Jake, did you tell Hank about the tapes?” she asked.
Jake grinned. “I’ve been a busy guy, Hank. I also forgot to tell you. Today I went to Mortinos and was able to get their security tapes.”
Hank frowned. He should’ve thought of that. “Anything interesting?” he asked.
“Well, I’m pretty sure I saw Mrs. Bellows take the pork chop on one tape, and another tape showed her pay and leave the store. I had to dig out the old VCR to watch them.”
Hank nodded. “You know, I’m going to have to take those tapes, Jake. They’re evidence, so I can’t leave them here. I need to get them to the lab and let the technicians take a look as well.”
“Of course. I was going to turn them over to you anyway.”
“I may be able to get you a copy, if you want.”
“No, it’s ok. I showed the video to Annie as well, and neither one of us could see anything that would shed any light on this.”
“If you still have your VCR set up, I’d like to watch them before I turn them over to the lab.”
“Sure, come on in. It’s still set up.”
They went inside and into the living room. Matty was watching television. He frowned at them when they came in.
“Sorry Matty, we have to take the TV from you now,” Jake said.
“Boy, oh boy!”
Annie laughed, and said, “Matty, it’s bedtime anyway. Why don’t you go on up and I’ll be there in a few minutes?”
“Sheesh, Mom, there’s no school tomorrow.”
“I know, you don’t have to go to sleep right away. Find something to do for a while.” She looked at Jake and raised her brows. “Maybe Dad will read you a story later?”
“Yeah, I can do that,” Jake said.
Matty got up slowly. He looked back over his shoulder as he left the room, and said, “I’ll just be upstairs, if you need me.” Then, he was gone.
Jake chuckled, and then knelt down by the VCR and cued up the tape to the point where Mrs. Bellows appeared. He touched the television remote to “Video”, and pressed play on the VCR.
They viewed the tape silently.
Jake switched the tapes to show the “Cash” view, and they watched as Mrs. Bellows appeared, paid, and then left the store.
Jake stopped the machine. “That’s all,” he said, as he popped out the tape and put the three of them in the bag.
He handed the bag to Hank who dropped it in his briefcase.
“I assume she was either followed home,” Hank said, “or the killer was waiting for her when she got home.”
“No surveillance cameras on the building?” Annie asked.
“Nope.”
“What about on Farley’s building?”
“Nothing there either.”
No one spoke for a while. Finally, Hank said, “Well, I think I’ll go home and mull this over for a while and see what I can come up with.”
They said goodbye, and Annie let Hank out the front door.
She closed the door and turned back to Jake. “I feel so bad for Jenny and Amelia,” she said. “Another day gone and she’s still missing.”
Jake agreed, “Yeah, let’s hope something turns up tomorrow.”
Saturday, August 13th, 10:59 PM
JEREMY Spencer settled down in his comfortable easy chair in front of the television. Have to watch the news before bedtime.
He had a bowl of popcorn tucked in his arms, and a glass of tomato juice on the stand beside him.
He propped his feet up on the overstuffed footstool, picked up the remote, and flicked on the TV.
Channel 7 Action News was just coming on. He saw the familiar face of the news anchor. He munched his popcorn and listened intently.
“Today’s top story. Richmond Hill was shocked to see its third murder within two weeks. Here’s Lisa Krunk with the story.”
The screen flickered and Lisa Krunk could be seen standing on the street, outside of a building Jeremy recognized.
He smiled grimly and listened rapturously, as she spoke.