Rise of a Phoenix: Rise of a Phoenix (23 page)

“Jerry, take us to the place and I promise to buy you as many doughnuts as you like,” He promised.

The man nodded hard, just the thought of them making his mouth water. Tina decided that as no dramatic experiment was about to happen, she would head back to the desk full of paperwork she had got to attend to.

FORTY-FIVE

Today was a special day for Jenny Thompson. She had worked along the homicide detectives for many years hoping to join their ranks, and now her dream had come true—Her beaming smile said it all. As Jenny approached Tooms and Tony they just sat in their chairs as though nothing had changed.

“Well?” She stood next to their desks, hands clenched together and bouncing on her heels, just waiting for some recognition from them.

“Well what?” asked Tooms, trying hard not to laugh.

“I made Detective.” She showed off her badge like a six-year-old that just came in first at a school race.

“Cool,” replied Tooms, lifting his cup to her. “You can get the coffees then, rookie.”

She scowled at them as the two men burst out laughing. Then they got up and shook her hand and hugged her, offering congratulations. The Captain walked out of his office and headed for her.

“Thompson? Your desk is a mess—sort it out.”

She looked puzzled until she looked in the far corner and saw a desk with a name plaque on it that said ‘Detective J. Thompson.’ The words were etched in white with a shiny black background. She picked it up and felt the lump in her throat grow larger.

“Thanks, Captain.” She felt like she wanted to hug him.

“Oh, don’t thank me, you’re still working with The Doc.”

Her face fell.

“Is there a problem, Detective?”

She stiffened up and put down the plaque.

“No sir, no problem.” She faked a smile and walked off; the Captain grinned.

“Where are McCall and Steel?” Alan looked at the fresh scribbles on the white board and the pins on the map.

“They went up town to check out an old warehouse in the meatpacking district, but they had to pick up some doughnuts or something first,” replied Tony, shrugging. The Captain nodded in response, and Tony and Tooms got up and joined him at the boards.

“Steel had a theory that homeless people were used to move the bodies to locations in shopping carts,” continued Tony.

The Captain turned to them. “Makes sense, after all, who would notice a homeless person? Everyone would remember a van or car, but a homeless guy, nah.” Steel’s theory held ground, but to prove it was another matter.

There was a loud ringing sound coming from the Captain’s office and he headed off to answer the phone. Tony watched as the Captain answered it and proceeded to bawl someone out.

“I don’t get it, Tooms” Tony picked up the files and flicked through them as if he was looking for something.

“You don’t get what?” Tooms watched his partner getting agitated.

“These women. Apart from growing up together, they have nothing in common; hell, after they left to go to college I don’t think they even had contact with one another. I bet they didn’t even know they were all living in the same city.”

Tooms sat on the edge of his desk as he pondered the question. “So what’s on your mind, man?”  Tony slammed down the files and leant back, putting his hand over his face in frustration. “There has to be something that ties our three vics together other than sharing their early upbringing. I mean who waits thirty years to kill someone?”  Tooms had to agree, he had nothing else to offer.

FORTY-SIX

Normally there would have been witnesses, people of interest, someone stewing in the interrogation by now, but this was different and Tooms felt it. He looked at the board nearest where he was sitting and he felt sad for the victims, not so much because they had been murdered, but more because they all seemed to lack a personal life.

Tooms stared at the framed set of photos on his desk. The silver frame held snapshots of a group picture of him and his family. He picked it up and smiled, then he looked up at the pictures of the women victims, and his sadness returned. Tony saw the look on his partner’s face and walked up to him.

“What’s up, man?” Tony could see the obvious signs of Tooms’s displeasure on his face.

“What do you figure would make these very attractive women give up having a personal life and just live for work?”

Tony studied the photos on the boards. “Don’t know, man, but some people do and they are happy.”

Tooms’s computer made a DING noise to signal the arrival of an email, and Tony walked back to his desk, reminded that he needed to check his own inbox.

Detective Tooms sifted through the many items of junk mail waiting for him, noticing that one stood out. He looked around, making sure nobody saw him before he opened it. The address was from a friend of his in financials and it read:

HI JOSHUA.

GOT YOUR E-MAIL.

REF: JOHN STEEL.

NATIONAL BANK.....$56,457.99.

OFF SHORE ACCOUNT DIFFERENT NAME:

$443, 867, 897.95

WATCH YOUR BACK BUDDY.

Tooms’s jaw dropped. Who was this guy and how was it he had so much cash in an offshore account?

For him there were too many questions about Detective John Steel and not enough answers.

Quickly, he printed off the email and headed for the Captain’s office. He needed to know the truth regardless of the ticking off he would get for delving into another cop’s private affairs, but he had felt it to be necessary.

As he got to the closed door he stopped for a moment and looked at the piece of paper, wondering if he was he doing the right thing? Before he could turn round, the door opened and before him stood the Captain.

FORTY-SEVEN

After driving around for what was literally hours, McCall and Steel arrived at a large disused building. On first appearance it looked like an old delivery or storage place. Its red brick walls showed their years and the wooden framed windows held thick glass in place that appeared to be encrusted with the dust and dirt of forty years.

McCall pulled up and parked some distance from the building, just in case someone was watching: the last thing they needed was a welcoming committee.

“You’re sure this is the place, Jerry?” she asked, staring at the homeless man in the car’s back seat through the rear view mirror.

“Are you really sure, Jerry? Because this is the fifth place you have brought us to,” Steel added, turning round in his seat to look at him.

Jerry could feel Steel’s eyes burning into his own, even through the sunglasses.

“Yes, that’s the place. Can we go now?” Steel and McCall had now both turned around to face the nervous man.

“What’s your rush, Jerry? We only just got here.” Steel had a bad feeling, the
you’ve just been set up
feeling, and that was one experience he didn’t need. All three of them vacated the car and moved towards the building.

An eerie silence filled the air, and as they ventured closer Steel couldn’t help but notice Jerry was lagging behind.

“What’s the matter, Jerry? You’ve gone a little pale.” McCall suddenly had the same feeling as Steel and drew her weapon. Clutching the pistol grip tightly with both hands she let her arm hand downwards by her side, keeping alert and ready for whatever was to come.

“OK, Jerry, when we get inside I want you to show me where you got the parcels, OK?” Sam told him.

Jerry’s expression suddenly turned to one of fear, the sort of fear you would expect to see from someone facing a savage lion. Or someone who knew exactly what was inside the building.

“No!” Jerry yelled suddenly. “You can’t make me go in there! I won’t go in there. Fuck you, lady!” Jerry turned to make an escape, but McCall grabbed him by the arm.

“What about your free meal we promised you, Jerry?” Her appeal wasn’t working.

“Fuck your meal! Fuck them! Fuck you all!” he screamed.

Steel grabbed him and dragged him to the nearest dumpster. “You don’t want to go in, fine, but you are not leaving either,” and with that he picked the man up and threw him into the rubbish container. A large THUNG echoed through the empty steel box as Jerry hit the bottom, and, whipping out his handcuffs he secured the handles that closed the container, effectively locking him inside.

“Shall we?” Steel raised an open palm in a
ladies first
gesture. They both proceeded cautiously, keeping close to the walls, McCall in the lead. As they neared the doorway she turned and looked at Steel’s empty hands. Shooting him a disappointed look, she grabbed her back-up Glock pistol and passed it to him.

“I can’t believe you don’t carry a gun, Jesus.”

He shrugged and cocked the weapon.

As they entered a long corridor the musty smell of a decaying building filled their nostrils, and they quickly covering their nose and mouths until they adjusted to the stagnant air. Moving along they covered each other’s backs, weapons held firm in their outstretched arms, as they came to the first set of rooms which were on opposite sides of each other along the long wall. They stopped, backs against the brickwork and counted together.

“Three, Two, One, Now!”

Swinging round, weapons ready, they charged through the door, but they found nothing but an empty room. Edging down the corridor they did the same for the next four rooms until they arrived at the blue door at the end of the long hallway.

“How do you want to do this?” Steel asked. Sam was surprised he was consulting her.

“We go in on three, keep low, find cover and we check it out,”

He nodded. “Did you call for back up or something before we came in?”

She smiled at him with a cocky sort of grin. “Why? Don’t you think that we can handle it?”

He noticed the smirk and realised she was teasing him. He grasped the handle and turned it slowly. McCall was crouched in front of the door, ready to move in as soon as the door opened.

“Okay,” he said. “Three, Two, One!” He shoved the door open and she rolled in, while Steel just looked into the room, still holding the handle.

“Houston, we have a problem.” His words were more for himself than for McCall, but she stood up and turned towards her colleague.

“New plan?” she asked, shrugging.

The room was vast, and its high glass roof had been painted or boarded over, allowing only a few shards of light to creep in. Around the room there was a vast number of stacked large wooden container boxes around six-foot square, arranged so as to form some kind of maze.

The labyrinth was too high to be clambered over, meaning that the only way to investigate was to move in amongst them. Slowly they crept in, towards the first corner, that led straight for a couple of feet. Creeping along slowly, then they stopped. Before them a junction.

“Left or right?” Steel asked. She looked, finding that both directions looked exactly alike, and equally dangerous.

“Right, we go right,” She decided.

The maze of passageways they found themselves in were evenly spaced and the only light seemed to be from the chinks of daylight coming from the ceiling. As they approached one of the beams of light, Steel noticed that the illumination was large enough to cover the space between the two opposing walls. He raised a hand and stopped her.

“Do you like movies?” His question puzzled her: now was hardly the time to invite her for a date, plus she would never agree to one.

“Steel, this is not the time or place,” she snapped.

He turned to her, crouched as he was with his back against one of the containers. One side of his face was in a pool of light, and she could see he was smiling.

“One of my favourite films was Raiders of the Lost Ark,” he told her.

Now she was smiling: McCall understood where he was going with this.

“Stay out of the light,” he said, scraping up some dust from the floor and throwing it into the ray of light.

“Stay out of the light,” he repeated. As the dust fell they saw tiny red beams that crossed the gap before them.

Steel turned to McCall. His expression said it all.

“We have to leave, NOW!”

FORTY-EIGHT

Tooms walked into the Captain’s office. The decision to talk to his boss about John Steel had been made for him, but it didn’t make him feel any better. The Captain closed the door behind them and he manoeuvred himself round to his desk and sat, leaving Tooms standing in front of him.

“So what’s on your mind, Detective?” Brant sat back in his chair, causing it to lean back against the hinge mechanism.

“I got some information back from financials and came up with something disturbing,” Tooms admitted, passing the copy of the email to the Captain. Brant leant forwards, leaning on his desk. After reading it he looked up at Tooms, his face filled with disappointment and also a trace of anger, which didn’t however seem to be directed towards the junior officer.

“What’s this, Tooms? Are we are checking up on our own guys now?” His voice tried to mask his disappointment.

“Sir, something felt off about the guy, so I” Tooms didn’t know which way to look.

“Had him checked out,” completed the Captain. “Well the thing is I probably would have done the same in your position.”

Tooms’s face lit up for a second.

“However, you need to stop any more investigations on Steel, is that understood?”

Tooms’s stomach turned.

“OK, Tooms, if that’s all, I believe we still have a killer to find.” He ushered Tooms out of the room.

“Um, yes sir.” The detective was filled with confusion and dismay at the implications of what he’d just heard. Was the Captain in on something bad, he wondered? Tooms went back to his desk and sat down.

As he watched, the Captain he picked up his phone and dialled quickly, waited for a moment, then began to talk. As he spoke he saw Tooms looking at him and turned in his chair, as if to conceal the conversation.