The Fed Man (20 page)

“I think this suspect is displaying some real sociopathic personality tendencies. I don’t profess to know a lot about this.” Turning to Nube, he continued, “Perhaps, Nube, you could enlighten us on this subject.”

Nube leaned forward in his chair. “I’ll try my best, Doug. First of all, we have to understand that no one knows for certain what exactly causes someone to become a sociopath, which, by the way, is now referred to as antisocial personality disorder. It is thought to be partly genetic, partly environmental, and partly mystery. The main characteristic of sociopaths, however, is that they have no conscience. Therefore, they have a total disregard for the rights of others. They don’t have the normal empathy the rest of us take for granted; they don’t feel affection and they don’t care about others. As a result, it is very difficult for them to sustain a relationship.”

Sweeping his arm around the room, he continued. “For most of us, our purposes are influenced by our relationships with others and our love for them. So if you take away love and relationships, what’s left for a sociopath? The answer, I’m afraid, is quite simple. Their sole purpose becomes the desire to win. They want to win the game, whatever the game may be, and they will do anything at all to win.”

Nube stood and began to pace as he went on, “These people usually have low self-esteem, but they have an abundance of charm and wit. And, because they are good observers, they have learned how to mimic feelings of affection and empathy to gain our trust so that they may stab you in the back.” Nube had moved behind Pete, and after this last statement he made the motion of stabbing Pete. Startled, Pete jumped from his seat. “Jeez, Nube! You nearly scared the living crap right out of me!”

“Just trying to make my point, my friend. If I may continue, and they can stab you in the back without anyone knowing what’s happening.” Raising his right index finger and pointing it around the room, he said, “There is one last point about sociopaths that I think is important. They often have narcissistic tendencies.”

Nube looked around the room before continuing. “I’ll want to think about this and perhaps even call Corrales, but I think we can begin to develop a profile of our subject. Mr. Briscoe, perhaps you can tell us about your visit with the juvie judge in Duluth.”

“I’m afraid we’ve hit a roadblock in our attempt to obtain the juvenile records of this Darius Levinson character. My longtime acquaintance, Judge Lineheart, retired two months ago. So I’ve petitioned the new judge for a hearing and I’m tentatively scheduled to appear before her Monday morning. Fortuitously, this will give me the weekend to better prepare myself for the hearing. The short of the long is that I will hopefully be able to add some information to our investigation by Monday afternoon.” Looking around the room, he said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t have the information for you today, but …”

C. J. turned to him and said, “Now Douglas, I’ve told you to quit beating yourself up about this. You can’t help it old man Lineheart decided to pull the plug on his career.” With his arm extended toward his partner, C. J. turned to the group. “Now don’t you all worry your pretty heads none. This man will get the information we need. Trust me.”

Nube couldn’t help but smile as he looked at the two gentlemen, friends and partners. He turned to Marie and asked, “Do you have any good news for us?”

Holding up the papers on her lap, she answered, “I did get the report back regarding the question of DNA inside the socks found in the throats of the victims.” Shuffling through the papers she said, “Let’s see … ah, here it is.” She held up a single sheet of paper as she continued. “There was no evidence of DNA inside any of the socks.”

C. J. began to chuckle. “Marie, it is only your God-given natural beauty that surpasses your superbly keen mind as your greatest asset.” Turning to Nube, he pointed his glasses at him as he added, “Perhaps this bit of information will also assist you in developing a profile of the Garbageman.”

“Profilers like as much information as they can get, but the good ones can develop a profile from seemingly nothing. That being said, I do have a theory, but as I said earlier, I’d like to run it by Special Agent Corrales before sharing it with you. I’ll give her a call at noon today. By the way, as I alluded to earlier, I do plan on paying Nancy Jameson a visit tonight. For purely professional reasons, Deputy Mohr. I think she has a right to know about the implied threat against her son.”

He heard Pete snicker as Nube turned to Naldie and continued, “Chief, I would appreciate it very much if you could have a squad car close to her house every night until this matter is concluded.”

“No problem, Nube.” Turning to Pete, the chief said, “Pete, make sure one of those young pups stations himself at the end of her block every night.”

“Got it, Chief.”

“How about if we meet back here late Monday afternoon?” Nube asked as he stood up. “Doug should have some information from the juvenile court by then.” Noting the look on Doug’s face, he added, “hopefully.” They all nodded their assent and left the room. As Nube exited, he looked over his shoulder just in time to see Chief Bushmiller stuff another bismarck into his mouth.

Exiting the chief’s office, Pete noticed that Byron was standing in front of the bulletin board next to Marie’s desk. Pete ambled toward him, thinking that the young deputy must be reviewing the duty roster.

“Morning, Pete. How’d the meeting go?”

Pete removed his cap and scratched the growing bald spot on top of his head. “I’m afraid we have some new developments, son. It seems that this perpetrator has taken his criminal efforts to a new level.”

Pete took a few minutes to update Byron on the events of the previous evening, including the threat to the Jameson boy. He finished by saying, “So the chief just told me that he wants a car at the end of the block where the Jamesons live from early evening until morning until we catch this piece of crap. Starting tonight.”

Pete scanned the duty schedule before turning back to the senior of his two deputies. “Bottom line is, son, we will need to start pulling some extra shifts to cover this. Don’t worry though,
we’ll get paid for it. According to this duty sheet you would have been scheduled to be off tonight, but I’m sure you know where I’m going with this. You get the duty tonight.”

Pete directed his attention from the bulletin board to Byron. The young man’s brow was furrowed and he squinted and seemed to stare straight through Pete. After a few moments of silence he said, “You always give me the shit jobs, Pete, and I’m sick of it. I’m scheduled to be off tonight and I have plans. So stick it where the sun don’t shine. You do the surveillance!”

Momentarily stunned by this junior deputy’s insubordination, Pete let a few seconds pass to regain his composure. Then he slowly raised his right index finger and pointed it between Byron’s eyes and stared down his finger as if aiming one of his many deer hunting rifles. He held that pose for a brief moment before responding.

“You listen to me, son. You’re throwing a helluva lot of attitude at me and I don’t like it. I don’t give a rat’s ass about your time away from here, but we have a job to do. Now you just remember two things.”

Continuing to sight down his index finger, Pete said, “One, at your age your dick is as big as it’s going to get, but you have a lot of time to grow into an even bigger prick than you are at this very moment. And two, you can either go a long ways in this field and this department or you can go to hell. It’s your choice and you have exactly ten seconds to reconsider what you just told me, starting right now.”

As Pete counted down the time out loud, he could see Byron’s demeanor change. By the time Pete got to eight, Byron held up his hands. “Sorry, Pete. I don’t know what came over me. I understand and I will be there to do the surveillance tonight. It’s just that it’s my little girl’s birthday, but my wife will understand. She knows what this job demands and she accepts it. Just tell me what time I should be there.”

Pete dropped his hand and allowed himself to retain the steeled look for just a few seconds longer before replacing it with a soft smile. “I didn’t know about your daughter’s birthday, Byron. Tell you what, I’ll have Arnie pull the duty tonight and you enjoy the time with your family.” Replacing the smile with a feigned stern look, he continued, “But, you’ve got it tomorrow night, okay?”

Extending his right hand to shake the proffered hand of the chief deputy, Byron replied, “Sure. Just let me know what time to be there.”

This was one of the longest days Nube had ever put in. The work wasn’t that arduous, but he kept thinking about the attack on his dog last evening, the meeting in Naldie’s office this morning, and the phone call he had with Corrales.

Corrales had listened intently and told Nube she would get back to him either tonight or tomorrow morning with her thoughts on the case. But she took a few extra minutes to assure him that he was doing a good job and, from her vantage point, he was doing it by the book. She thought he was correct in their assessment regarding the perpetrator’s personality disorder and took a few minutes to tell him about some of her harrowing experiences with criminals who possessed the same disorder. She concluded their visit by wishing him well and advising him to proceed with extreme caution. Nube remembered thinking that she seemed obviously concerned, more so than he would expect from someone who was just his boss or was being matronly. And he had spent more than a few minutes thinking about the visit he would make to the Jameson home this
evening. He tried to rehearse in his mind exactly what he would tell Nancy, but he just couldn’t seem to find the correct words.

The walk to the Jameson home seemed much longer tonight. Nube knew it was because he was dreading this visit, but he also knew it was something that he must do. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. How could this cold-hearted killer now threaten a little boy just because Nube knew him? And how do you tell the child’s mother that just because he had befriended the boy and then had dinner with them that the boy’s life was now in danger? As well as hers. His plan was twofold. He would tell Nancy everything about himself and then he would attempt to convince her that she and her son were safe and, most important, that he was going to catch this killer and bring him to justice. He wasn’t sure how he was going to accomplish this, but he was convinced that he was going to do it.

Approaching the small Jameson home, he noticed that Nancy had planted some Shasta daisies adjacent to the two steps leading up to the door. He paused for a few moments to look at her home. It really was quaint, and he could tell that it had a woman’s touch to it. He took a deep breath and continued to the door.

PJ answered the doorbell and without opening the screen door he turned and yelled, “Mom, it’s Nube Lawson. Come quick.” Turning back to Nube, he opened the screen door and, remembering the last visit, he quickly added, “Good evening, Nube. Please come in. I’ll get my mom.” Looking past Nube, he added, “Where’s Ms. Abby?”

Nube stepped into the house and, tousling PJ’s hair, he said, “I left her at home tonight, pal. She’s guarding our house. How’s your golf game?”

Before PJ could respond, Nancy came in.

“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise. What, no pie plate or anything?” Putting her arm around her son, she smiled and asked, “Does this mean you came just to see us?”

Nube could feel the blush begin and he wondered how he was going to pull this off. He took a deep breath, smiled, and answered.

“Yes, ah, sure. I’ve come just to visit.” The smile vanished and he tousled PJ’s hair again as he addressed him. “PJ, I wonder if I could talk just to your mom for a minute or two. Then maybe we can all go get some ice cream or something. What do you say?”

Sensing the change in Nube’s mood, Nancy quickly added, “PJ, how about if you finish cleaning your room while Mr. Lawson and I talk for a few minutes. Then maybe, just maybe, we’ll go get some ice cream.”

“Ah, Mom …” but seeing the look in her eyes, he added, “okay.” Looking at Nube, he said, “I sure wish you would have brought Ms. Abby with you.”

“Next time, pal.” After PJ had left the room, Nancy stepped back and looked puzzled and scared. “What’s going on, Nube?”

He gestured at the sofa and said, “I think we should sit down while we talk. There are some things I need to tell you, Nancy.” They sat on the black leather sofa and he reached to touch her hand, but she withdrew it and crossed her hands on her lap. Accepting
this rebuke, Nube took another deep breath and began. “As I said, Nancy, there are some things I really need to tell you.”

It took him about fifteen minutes to tell her about how he came to live in Oak Ridge and about the murder investigations. Finally, he told her about the note he had found and what it said about PJ. When he had finished this part, Nancy gasped and brought both hands to her mouth while tears and mascara streamed down her flushed cheeks. She began to sob while she fumbled for a tissue. Nube leaned over and handed her his handkerchief, thinking that he was glad he had grabbed a clean one before leaving home. Taking the clean white handkerchief, she began to dab at her tears. Without thinking, Nube leaned over and placed his hand on her knee. In the most reassuring voice he could conjure up, he half whispered, “It’s going to be okay, Nancy. I promise you that no harm will come to you or your son.”

Nancy stopped dabbing at her tears, brushed his hand away from her knee, and threw the handkerchief into his lap. “How can you be so sure? You said you have no clue who this person is, so how can you be so sure you can protect us and catch him?”

Nube stood, folded the handkerchief, and replaced it in his pocket before responding. “Because it is who I am and what I have been trained to do, Nancy. I give you my word.”

PJ reentered the room and, seeing the tears on his mother’s face, he ran to her. “What’s wrong, Mommy? Are you okay?”

He protectively stepped in front of his mother while looking at Nube. “What did you do to my mom? I thought you were a nice guy, Nube.”