Spare the Lambs (9 page)

              Looking back, I should’ve asked the kids if they knew anyone fitting the descriptions instead of their teachers; I would have closed this damn case on the first day.  However, talking to every child in the city would have taken a long time and the group would’ve been alerted that someone was asking about them.  They would’ve disappeared long before someone ID’d them out.  Also, we would have dealt with all the kids pointing fingers at their enemies or simply making stuff up to mess with us.

              Judith’s regular teacher had been out with hip surgery the day I’d visited the school and the sub hadn’t known his students very well, nor did it took like he cared enough to get to know them.  Just a paycheck to him; I could’ve shot him for his laziness and the life it had cost.  I’d looked into the substitute teacher because he gave me the same uneasy feeling I’d had when I spoke to Michael Dary, the serial rapist.  However, the sub came back clear and I don’
t
have enough to justify having him watched.

              Eric Moore’s confession has finally put us on the right path, but there are so many dead ends.  The nightmares are happening during the day now.  They barge in while I am at my desk or trying to eat.  I have lost twenty pounds over the last month.  If I catch those little monsters, the dreams will stop, I know they will.  But I can’
t
explain how I know this, not even to myself.  I must stop these teens somehow.  I must stop the dreams.  Every time I arrive at another dead end, I repeat Eric’s last words, his prayer, in my head.

Part Three

April 14, 2001 from personal computer

              Chief called me into his office to ask if I was working too hard again.  Damn him.  Why does he care about a 38
-year old
man?  It’s the kids that matter.  They’re all that matters.  Why am I the only one that sees that?  I have a year before they strike again, but I want to catch them before they can disappear.  I want their throats in my grasp.

              I had just finished my entry and shutdown my computer in the bullpen when, I saw them: Judith, Eric, Eva, Joe, Lauren, Michelle, and Jill.  All arrayed in front of my desk, staring at me with cold, dead eyes.  They silently accused me of their deaths.

              I started to chant the prayer and once I started whispering it, I couldn’
t
stop.  Even after the other detectives and
Agent
Johnston started to stare, I kept going.  At some point my whispers became spoken words.  But I just kept repeating it until the Chief called me into his office.  “God, please spare the lambs.”

April 15, 2001 from personal computer

              I voluntarily took a week of vacation.  Volunteered, or “voluntold” as my friends in the Army would say.  Officially, it will be noted as me requesting the week off.  However, the truth is the Chief ordered, “take a vacation or you’re off this case.”

              So I have to wait a week before I can get back to work.  However, the kids can’
t
wait, neither the dead one nor those monsters still breathing.  Justice must be served.  And I do have copies of all the evidence here at my apartment, so I can work on the case during this down time. 

There are some problems with not being officially on the case.  I visited Judith
Smith
’s home and asked her parents for any diaries or personal notes she might have kept.  They refused.  When I asked why, they pointed out that I let Eric’s confession go to the press and they felt that was a horrible thing to do.  I say they, but the mother never spoke, she resigned herself to nodding and making small, little sounds of agreement.  I tried to convince them to let me in, at least to look through anything she had without taking it.  While we argued, Judith’s older sister came into the living room with a black eye poorly patched up with too much makeup.  I doubt the father cared much about his daughter’s memory being preserved.  Judith probably wrote about being abused and he didn’t want to be arrested or have his remaining victim removed by Child
Services
.

              I wanted to run both parents in right then and there, but i couldn’t while off duty.  Besides, the damn chief would’ve told me it wasn’
t
my job to arrest every “piece of shit” in the city, only the murderers.  I can’
t
request a court order until I am back on the case and if I called
Agent
Johnston, he would tell the chief I was harassing people while off duty.  I’ll just have to wait and hope they don’
t
burn her stuff in the meantime.  I did call Child
Services
and give them an anonymous tip to check on the sister.

April 16, 2001 from personal computer

              I thought about what might happen if I did manage to catch the
Pack
last night.  If I tried to arrest them alone, they could probably outrun me or overpower me easily.  If I bought them down with back up, they would spend the rest of their long lives with
cable TV
in an eight-by-eight barred “hotel” room.  If they got the death penalty, they would get their own room and enjoy better food for thirty years while using up all possible appeals.  And all that was only
if
they didn’
t
get off for insanity.  I could hear the defense attorney, “Of course my clients are insane, Your
Honor
.  Just look at their crimes.”

If I delivered justice?  Yes, that would’ve been the best course for them.  However, I could only get one or two before they ran or overpowered me.  They can’
t
outrun or overpower a bullet, but I have barely qualified with my pistol the last few times.  I have also been carrying around an extra seventy pounds for years, now down to forty due to the kids always hanging around, which doesn’t help either.  And then, the biggest issue, could I pull the trigger on a child?  Paper targets are all I’d ever shot at.

It went to the gym today to work out some of these issues.  Lifting weights and running hurt more than I remembered.  I don’
t
know how long it has been that I’ve been working too much, but I know I haven’
t
been making time to do anything else and eating way too much fast food for a while now.  I probably would’ve quit the workout after a few minute if it wasn’
t
for the kids.  They watched me, and even though their faces were expressionless as always, I felt they were cheering me on.  They pushed me to try harder.  After the gym, I ate a full meal.  The salad was horrible and lost any health benefit after I doused it in
Ranch
dressing.  The steak, however, was glorious.  I’d forgotten how good real meat is.

April 17, 2001 from personal computer

              Every muscle in my body hurt this morning.  But Eric was there with me, watching me struggle out of bed.  He smiled a little when I finally stood up.  I ate another horrible salad and a pork chop that was so good that I was glad I forced myself out of bed.

I had set myself a goal of a three-miles run today.  I set it yesterday after the gym when I was tired, but still feeling ok.  By this morning, I was regretting my optimism.  However, goals are to be stuck to, unless you want to remain a failure.  It took me two hours to complete my three miles and I did vomit a few times along the way.  But in the end, I did it.

              I felt like the shower water was slowly bringing me back to life, I stood under the jets until the hot water ran out.  With all my tasks for the day completed before noon, I had no idea what to do with myself.  I felt restless and vaguely felt like I was forgetting to do something, something big.  I tried watching TV, but I ended up wandering around my apartment.  I tried reading a book, but I couldn’
t
focus enough to remember what had happened on the previous page.  Finally, I decided to go to one of the local ranges and shot my service pistol.  My shot group has always been too big, within department standards, but barely. 

              I had to search for a long time, but I eventually found some casual street clothing.  If I remember correctly, I got them over a year ago, but they still had the price tags on them.  Come to think of it, maybe I’d been working too much for too long.  I couldn’
t
remember the last time I went out with friends or on a date.  I don’
t
even know if I have friends anymore.  I am sure they aren’
t
enemies, but I am sure there are only so many “I am busy,” and “I can’
t
right now,” a person can take before you begin to fade from their thoughts.  I need to take a long vacation, somewhere I have never been, once this damnable case is finished.

Traffic was bad but I managed to get to the range just before noon.  I spent fifty dollars on bullets alone and stayed until they closed.  The investment paid off, I got my shot group down from a softball-sized area to that of a silver half dollar.

April 18, 2001 from personal computer

              I went to the bar down the street last night.  I sat at a little booth in the corner and thought about God while I slowly drank my stout beer.  I have never been much of a believer.  Hell, it's been years since I was in a church for a service, and I was a kid the last time a read the
Bible
.  My memory may be off, but I don’
t
remember God ever helping anyone.  In the Old Testament, God kicked people's asses anytime they messed up.  In the New Testament, God still didn’
t
help anyone, they simply quit kicking them. 

God hasn’
t
spared the lambs.  God hasn’
t
ever helped, but Eric Moore might have.  Some groups of people will think his suicide is worse in God’s eyes than killing a million people.  I can’
t
see the boy suffering for escaping his guilt and helping to stop those monsters.  Surely, God wouldn’
t
look more favorable upon killers of children than someone who look their own life?  Seems to me, humans help humans and God just watches or doesn’
t
exist.

I woke up this morning, with a horrible hangover.  I didn’
t
think I’d had that much to drink last night.  I still went to the gym to lift and run a mile, despite the pain.  It was easier than my first time, but I doubt I will be repeating a hungover workout any time soon.  Everyone stared at me suffering through it.  Partly due to the smell of booze oozing from my pores, but mostly I think they stared because of my weight.  Gyms might be to get in shape, but it appears that only very fit people use them.  After I showered and got, back to my place, I went to the range to shoot some more.  I tightened my group to the size of a quarter.  I haven’
t
seen any dead kids today.  I don’
t
know if it means that the break from work has helped my mental state or not.

April 19, 2001 from work computer

              I didn’
t
have any nightmares last night, but I had a dream that I wish was a nightmare.  For the first time in weeks, I was myself in the dream.  I was following one of the boys from the Pack, but his height, build, skin tone, hairline, the shape of his mouth, and his nose kept changing every second.  It was very disorienting to watch as he grew from five foot to six and back again.  Widow’s peak, straight, then a hairline so high that kids would’ve called him five-head.  Skinny, fat, and built.

              However, his hair was cropped and brown and his eyes were blue.  He wore a band
t
-shirt and faded
blue jeans
.  I followed him for three blocks down dark streets.  When he noticed me and he ran into an alley with a dead end.  I cornered and beat the boy, Lee or
James
, until he told me where the others were.  His bloody mouth moved and I felt excitement, but he made no sound.  I pulled out a gun and shot him.

              I woke up, and for the first time in years, I felt rested.  I was completely calm and refreshed.  It worried me for most of the day, but I think I know why the dream hadn’
t
bothered me.  After all, there was a reason I wanted to get in shape and improve my shooting.  God hasn’
t
done anything, so I will spare the lambs.  I just hope I can.

              I laid in bed and my thoughts turned towards children or to my lack of children.  Normally a man my age is married and has at least one child.  Even gay men are settled with their lovers by their forties.  My job, or at least the amount of time I have given to my job, has killed any chance for a long-term relationship.  I’m also the last one in my bloodline; my family has always had a low birthrate.  Illness, accidents, and old age killed off all the other men in my family.  I have a few cousins, but they are all female.  The name dies with me.

              I forced those depressing thoughts away and got out of bed.  The children never born aren’
t
my concern, saving the kids that I can and avenging the ones I can’
t
are all that matters.

I finished a five-mile jog today with some of the new detectives and uniformed officers trying to make connections.  They were all faster than me and they looked like they could run ten more miles at the end, but I finished.  Agent Johnston looked so shocked when I stumbled across the finish line that I laughed between gasps for air.

              I requested a court order for any and all personal notes or diaries belonging to Judith
Smith
.  It can take a few hours to a few days for the judge to decide.  I hope her parents haven’
t
destroyed all of Judith’s diaries in fear of having their remaining daughter taken to a better home.  I don’
t
like the wait, but sometimes that is the job.

Later

The judge signed the court order for Judith’s diaries around three p.m.  I’ll go serve the order and retrieve the diaries once I head home for the day.  I want at least one night to look through them before the rest of the force gets them.  I want, or need actually, to deal with those murdering bastards.  Living out their long lives in a barred palace would be too good for them.  Way too good.

April 20, 2001 from personal computer

              I stopped by the
Smith
’s household after work.  The Chief wanted me to go right after we got the order but I told him that I had some work I needed to finish up.  He still wanted me to head over right then, but I told him that if he waited I would clock out and head over to get the dairies without costing the city anything.  Grabbing anything Judith kept while I am off the clock and taking them home with me makes anything I find unusable in court if the defendant’s attorney finds out about it, however the Chief believes he will make director if he saves the city enough money, so he let me go.