Sleepwalker (32 page)

Leonard wanted to tell him everything, starting with further details about the ever-increasing possibility of a third person being involved, but decided against it for the moment. That would take time, something neither of them had much of. As well, Leonard felt it was too remarkable a story, one that would seem totally unrealistic to the first-time listener, especially Reese, who appeared to be tossing the case his way as punishment and not as a commendation for a job well done. Instead, he simply said, “We have our theories, all of which we’re exploring right now.”

George Washburn stuck his head out from a doorway down the hall. He looked frazzled, eyes swollen, face smeared with blood. Without acknowledging Leonard and Kevin, he said, “Captain, can I see you?”

“George found small traces of blood at
Sparke’s
place,” Reese offered as they stepped down the hall. “He’s working in the bathroom right now. I suggest you hold your breath. It’s real nasty in there.”

Reese’s choice of words was an understatement.
Dunsworth
had it more right with
mincemeat
, but still could have added more flavor to it. Samantha
Sparke
lay on the bathroom tiles, fully unrecognizable from this afternoon when Leonard passed her coming out of the hospital. She was doused in her own blood, blotches of pale blue skin peeking out from beneath the blanket of glistening red like circles of mold on an over-ripened tomato. Her hands and feet had been severed, all four extremities tossed in the sink like bath toys in need of a cleaning. Her bald head hung to the side, her eyes stabbed out, her mouth bound and gagged. A small hunk of ulcerated flesh was placed upon her bald head. Leonard didn’t need George Washburn to tell him that it was her tongue.

“What’d you find so far, George?” Leonard asked through a knotted tongue, realizing that Kevin had stayed in the hall,
unwanting
or perhaps unable to gaze upon the grisly sight.

“Our friend wasn’t so careful this time. There are prints everywhere. Hair samples. Fibers galore.”

“She must’ve put up quite a battle.” He eyed the blond wig on the floor beside her, its glow tainted with horrible stains. It had looked much better on her head, he thought.

“On the contrary,” George said. “Whoever did this had no trouble subduing her. It was only after someone else arrived that things got messy.”

Leonard felt his heart skip a beat. He heard Kevin leaning into the room behind him. “George...did you say
someone else
?”

“Yeah, I did. Look behind you, on the floor.”

Kevin stepped back as Leonard stuck his head out and looked down the hall. Bloody footprints littered the carpet, all the way into the living room and beyond.
Two
distinct sets of footprints. One appeared to match those leading away from Delaney’s office. The other set were decidedly different. How he didn’t see this when he walked in was beyond explanation.
Fatigue, Len. Fatigue.

“Son of a bitch.”

“I’ve got tons of photos being developed right now. You can compare them to the ones taken at the doctor’s office, but I’ll go on record right now and say they’re the same prints, made by the same man. The unsteady gait is the same, the toes pointed outward. I’ve also got blood samples taken from all over the house, and I’ll venture a guess and say that some of the doctor’s blood will be here. That’ll connect the killer to both places.”

“So you think there’s someone else involved here?” Kevin asked.

“All I’m saying is that there was someone else here. They could have been an active participant, they could also be an unwitting witness, or perhaps a knowing interloper.”

“What about the doctor’s office? Was there anything there that exhibited the possibility of a third person?”

George hesitated, then shook his head. “Like I said this afternoon, he did a real efficient job in keeping that scene clean. I won’t go on the record and say no, but I only found one set of footprints there. The
bloodwork
could tell a different story, but I doubt it.”

The awful smell was getting to Leonard, nausea rising in his stomach. He stepped out of the room, then asked, “What about a murder weapon?”

“He took it with him. There’s some utensils spilled on the floor in the kitchen. The messy cutting at the wrists and ankles could only have been done by a strong man with a dull blade. Nothing we’ve found so far has any blood on it.”

Leonard thanked George and returned to the living room where Reese was giving orders to a young fireman. The fireman nodded an affirmative and went outside through the rear sliding doors where a couple of his counterparts awaited, presumably to search the woods.

“Well, what’d you come up with?”

“We’ve got a lot to go on. This is clearly the same murderer that got Delaney.”

“Right. His name is
Sparke
. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Captain. All evidence points in that direction, but there’re some interesting particulars that suggest otherwise.”

Reese grinned. “Go on...”

“To make a long story short, and George will back Kevin and me up, but there’s a strong possibility of another person besides
Sparke
being involved. And I say ‘besides’ instead of ‘in addition to’ because we’ve not been able to conclude exactly
who
it is that’s committing these crimes, or whether they’re acting together.”

“Are you kidding me, Len? It’s
Sparke
, without a doubt. A child could figure that one out. You’d need a real convincing testimony to make me think otherwise. And you said earlier that you thought his girlfriend might be involved. Frankly, I thought we came to that conclusion.”

“I’m not saying that
Sparke
isn’t involved, because he is. That much is certain. What I am saying is...is that he may be a pawn in someone else’s game. And yes, we’ve got our eyes on his girlfriend, Pamela Bergin. But there’s a strong possibility of another third party...someone who might be running the whole show.”

“You’ve really been doing your homework on this, huh?”

“More than you know, Captain. And it goes much further beyond the evidence gathered at Delaney’s.”

Reese walked over the couch in the living room, sat down then patted the seat next to him. “There’s room for two more. Leonard, Kevin, have a seat.”

The time had come to reveal all.

For the next half hour Reese sat in silence as Leonard and Kevin confessed the entire story, from their being called to
Sparke’s
place and finding him cleaning the blood on his floor, to them trailing him as he rode downtown for his appointment with Dr Delaney. Then, when they went to the hospital to see if Pamela Bergin had checked herself in, spotting Samantha
Sparke
there. Their talk with Pam, Kevin’s odd allergic reaction while in her apartment, and then finally receiving the dreadful call as they waited outside Delaney’s office. In addition to discussing their all-day whereabouts, they also went into great detail about their discoveries, the inconsistencies in Richard’s and Pam’s stories including the damage to Pam’s car, the tape of
Sparke’s
session with Delaney, the doctor’s notes, the fingerprints, and ultimately their theories of a third person and the possible connection to the incident concerning his wife two years ago.

After a moment of silence, Reese finally said, “That’s quite a tale.”

“It’s the truth,” Kevin said. “All of it.”

Leonard added, “Captain, there’s something big going down here, more than just meets the eye. I’m certain of it. I’m trying real hard to read between the lines. But right now the spaces are too thin.”

Reese pursed his lips, did his best to suppress a look of satisfaction. “You did a good job
fellas
, even if you did break the rules. That’s not a ticket to slide, though. I still want a report written on my desk, A-S-A-P. In the meantime, keep working on the evidence, see if there’s anything else you can find here that’ll help your cause. There’s a dispatch outside fielding calls from any
Sparke
sightings that come in. I’ve got a half dozen empty leads so far. Also, try to find out exactly why Samantha
Sparke
was at the hospital today. That could tell us a great deal.”

“Captain?”

Reese, Leonard, and Kevin all turned around to face a cherub-faced cop who didn’t look old enough to grow whiskers. He entered the house, breathing heavily, seemingly anxious to reveal whatever bit of information he’d unearthed. Perhaps
Sparke
had been spotted?

“Yes?”

“Remember you asked me to look into the phone off the hook in the bedroom?”

“Yes.”

“Well...a call was placed to 911 at 3:34 this afternoon...a distressed female caller said that someone was in her house, and was trying to ‘get her’. Then, after a few seconds, she said that it was all right, and cancelled the call. Strange thing is, before she hung up, the operator thought she heard a man’s voice, then a bit of a struggle...and then the line disconnected.”

Leonard said, “Tell them to send a copy of the tape to the Fairview Precinct.” He leaned toward Kevin, whispered, “We’ll have a listen to see if we can make out
Sparke’s
voice.”

Reese smiled. “Thanks, Gregory. Good job.”

“Wait...there’s more.”

Reese leaned over to Leonard. “Culver’s got some young guns, eh?” He redirected himself to Gregory. “Go ahead.”

“On a whim, I had the city emergency operator check to see if any calls had come in from
Mr
Sparke’s
residence today. I’d heard about the incident there this morning...”

“Good news travels fast,” Kevin said. Leonard grinned, embarrassed. It appeared there had been some talk going around about his visit with
Sparke
this morning. God only knows what kind of rumors were blossoming.

“A call
was
placed from
Mr
Sparke’s
residence to 911 at 10:30 AM, but was immediately disconnected. There was no conversation recorded.”

Leonard had to stop and think about what time he’d been there this morning. Reese and Kevin both stared at him, each clearly wondering the same thing, waiting for an answer. He looked at Kevin. “We got there when, about 10:45?”

Kevin nodded an uncertain agreement.

Reese grinned. “If you’d called in a report, we’d have it on record.”

“All right, cut me a break, will
ya
? Fact is
Sparke
probably made the call himself, then had reservations about reporting the incident because he feared revealing too much of whatever it was he needed to keep a secret. Regardless, it still doesn’t explain any more of the mystery.”

“Other than the injury was probably bad enough to need medical attention,” Kevin added.

“Thank you, Gregory,” Reese said, dismissing the young cop. He redirected himself toward Leonard. “Let me get this straight for a second.
Sparke
makes a 911 call, then hangs up. Then, this afternoon Samantha
Sparke
does
 
nearly the same thing. Perhaps they were both surprised by the same person? She’s killed, but
Sparke
somehow gets away with just a bit of blood on his floor. He must’ve done his attacker some damage.”

“Getting confusing again,” Kevin said.

“Damn,” Reese said. “We’ve got nothing but blind leads. No definite answers on anything going on. The only thing we can almost be certain about is that Delaney’s killer and Samantha
Sparke’s
killer are the same person, and that person is most likely Richard
Sparke
. The only way we’re gonna find out
why
is after we discover
where
he is.

The front door of the house bounded open and in came Harry
Dunsworth
. His face was drenched in sweat, hair mussed, eyes wet with excitement. He held a radio receiver in his left hand and held it out towards Captain Reese before nearly stumbling over his own feet.

“What is it?”

“Got a lead. Comes from the
Bledson
Hills Sheriff’s department. They received a call from a local cabin-renter in the park area who’d heard gunshots being fired. He went up into the hills and found a body by the river, male, mid-thirties...wearing all black clothing.”

Leonard peered at Reese. “Care to re-evaluate your theory?”

Reese stood quiet for a moment, then said, “Leonard, get your car.”

Leonard nodded to Kevin and the young cop raced outside with the keys. He said to Harry
Dunsworth
, “Tell them we’ll be there in less than ninety minutes.”

He’d spent the last few hours relying on natural moonlight for vision, making it nearly impossible to shut out the harsh light now targeting his eyes. It abruptly invaded his pupils, burned them. Sharp tears sprouted forth as he shuttered his lids, too late to combat the orange blotches now dancing in his sights like specters, impeding any chance he had to see the cop, or cops, standing before him. He raised his hands as he’d been commanded to do, feeling Pam’s gun bulging at his waist. It would be fully visible to those before him.

He heard footsteps approach on the gravel. Then the voice, this time closer. “Don’t move, or I’ll shoot.” He felt a hand yank the gun from his waist-band. The intrusive light fell away, but he still couldn’t see the man as he was shoved against the car and frisked. The cop pulled his arm behind his back, the same way the man in black had a half hour earlier during their battle. The pain was immediate and striking, and Richard cried out as the cuffs were slapped on.