The Tangerine Killer (25 page)

Squeaky, whose real name turned out to be Anna, sat huddled together with Libby on the white couch in the lobby. They both looked like they’d been summoned to the principal’s office. Since escorting them out to Olin they had been increasingly reluctant to talk, especially when they saw that he was deep in conversation with the head of the institute. The man, who had small round spectacles and a receding hairline, looked especially worried. When I told Olin that they had information involving an employee who had stolen from the workplace, the man flashed an angry look at the two women.

“Detective, I can assure you that we will fully co-operate in any way we can. Our institute is internationally renowned and fully funded by generous donations from many prominent people around the world. I cannot and will not have controversy and suspicion cast upon decades of groundbreaking work. It could ruin us.”

He looked like a toad, his tongue darting in and out as he spoke and eyes magnified eerily behind his glasses. He was so flustered that he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He kept crossing and uncrossing his arms nervously. You would have thought that he was the one under interrogation.

“Thank you Mr. Potts,” Olin patted the small man on the shoulder. “Perhaps you could locate this Toby for us.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.”

He shuffled off hurriedly and I glanced at Olin, afraid to see hope mirrored back at me but his face was set in a neutral stare. We had work to do and his emotions were battened down just as mine should have been. Only somehow they had broken loose from their tether and were bubbling precariously beneath the surface. If I’d ever needed a cigarette, it was now.

“I’d better talk to these two alone.” Olin pointed at the two women who were both texting on their phones. “I hope they’re not stupid enough to warn this freak we’re coming for him.” He pointed at them before shouting out. “Hey ladies, no phones, got it?”

They both turned red and stuffed their phones into their bags.

“Need me?” I asked.

“Not especially?” Olin raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll be outside then.”

“Okay,” he walked off.

That stung. I didn’t want it to but it did. I had to get my emotions back in check or they were going to be the death of me.

Outside it was hot. The air sticky with a hint of orange blossom that hung suspended in the air. A stone table with benches sat in the shade under several leafy palms. A small congregation of assorted people in lab coats had collected to smoke their little technical hearts out. I heard the chatter fall a decibel or two as I approached but I didn’t attempt to infiltrate their group, just stood off to the side where I leant against a particularly knobby palm and lit up. A couple of people stared my way and I gave a nod and a faint smile which seemed to satisfy them and they went back to their conversations. To be honest I didn’t really care. I wanted the cigarette more than I wanted to hear what they were talking about but bad news travels fast. Everyone was wondering why the police were there.

The gossip ringleader was a woman with white hair, followed a close second by a younger man who was bald. They seemed to be the ones who had the most seniority in the group and, as it turned out, actually worked in the same department as Toby. The others were a mixed bunch of young men and women who were all hovering around like anxious hens waiting for grain to be thrown down for them.

“He was creepy anyway,” one of the younger women commented.

That seemed to be the general consensus among all the employees. Toby was a creepy guy who had scared more than one of the women that worked with him by his inappropriate comments. He had even touched one of them on the breast only she had been too scared to report it.

“You should have told me,” the white haired woman scolded her. “I would have seen to it that he was fired immediately.”

“I was scared,” the young girl’s voice wobbled as she spoke. She couldn’t have been much older than twenty. She had a pretty round face which she had applied just a touch of makeup to. She looked like the sort of young, naïve girl that would appeal to any predator, let alone one who had so far chosen his victims for their pale, supple skin.

“I don’t care if you were terrified out of your mind,” she continued. “You should have followed protocol and filed a report. What do you think we have rules for?”

The young woman shook her head, clearly as terrified of the older woman as she had been of Toby. The young man who was standing next to her put his arm around her shoulders in a protective way that suggested they were more than friends. I wondered what he thought of Toby caressing his girlfriend’s breast in the workplace.

“We have rules so that we can nip this sort of thing in the bud, weed out the bad eggs if you know what I mean. Men like Toby Mathews are a liability waiting to happen. I knew we should have got rid of him after the last time.”

“What last time?” someone from the back piped up.

“Never you mind.”

The old woman was starting to look a little flustered. The look in her eye told me she had just put two and two together and come up with more than four. She looked over as I flicked my cigarette butt to the ground and squished it under my shoe. I stepped into the group.

“I’m sorry to intrude but I’d really like to ask you a few questions.”

I gently took the old woman by the arm. It was sharp and thin beneath my grasp and now that I was closer I saw just how old she really was. Her finely applied makeup couldn’t cover a multitude of wrinkles and sagging skin, at least not up close. She pursed her lips as I led her through the crowd and back to the reception area and Olin. The whispers that had only been a breath of air now rose to a crescendo as we left the gawking co-workers behind. I had the feeling that there wasn’t going to be much work done in the labs today.

Olin decided that it would be easier to take the two girls and the old woman back to the station for questioning. It turned out that the man who was fast becoming our prime suspect, Toby Mathews, had not shown up for work that day. In fact he hadn’t been in all week. Had not shown up for a single day’s work since our murders began and that was a giant red flag amongst his tally of perfect attendance.

While Olin called for squad cars to come pick up the ladies, I pored over the file that had been provided by Mr. Potts on employee number 1743 Toby Mathews. On the surface he appeared to be a model employee, if not perhaps a little over dedicated. Working overtime, requesting lab access on the weekends, placing extra orders for equipment and supplies for his department for some project he was working on. Even with the file right in front of me I had no idea what exactly it was that Toby or his department did.

“This isn’t really much help,” I told Olin as he came and stood beside me. “Other than a home address, I can’t fathom too much out about this Toby Mathews or what he was doing here.”

“Well according to Mr. Potts, Toby was heading up an experiment involving the maggots and their ability to not only clean necrotic tissue but also regenerate growth when stimulated by a special salve. Apparently that’s all he can tell us because he is under some sort of confidentiality clause. I guess this is supposed to be the latest and greatest scientific breakthrough and his financial backers are deathly afraid the technology will leak out before they have a chance to get it out on the market.”

“Well you can make him talk, can’t you?”

“If I get a warrant and that’s going to take time that I’m not sure we have.”

Parker. The bad feeling came flooding back.

“Mr. Potts checked their inventory and they have a discrepancy in the amount of maggots that have been assigned to experiments so it’s not much of a stretch to assume that this is where our maggots came from. Whether this Toby Mathews is actually our guy or just the supplier, I don’t know.”

“Well no one here liked him much that’s for sure but he passed his psych exam.”

I pulled a sheet of paper out of the file which declared employee number 1742 a mentally competent and level headed person.

“So what? He looked at an ink blot and said he saw a butterfly instead of a bazooka. That just means he’s smart not stupid.”

“I think that smart is a given working in a place like this, besides when was the last time you came across a stupid serial killer?”

“Never but that doesn’t mean that he could have become sloppy.”

“So now what?”

“We pay a visit to this guy’s house and see if he’s there.”

Patrol officers arrived and escorted the waiting women graciously out to their cars. Olin was on the phone again, referencing questions he wanted the answers to when the women arrived for questioning. I stood flipping through Toby’s file, hoping something would jump out at me but nothing did. It told me his high school, where he went to college, even his social security number and his salary, which was far more than I would ever see in my entire lifetime. I guess it paid to be a genius. But there was nothing that told me what I needed to know to catch this guy. It didn’t tell me his hobbies, who he hung out with, what food he liked and where he shopped for his groceries. It was worthless. I slammed it shut in frustration and slid it down the counter away from me, burying my head in my hands to try and get some relief from the blinding white light that was starting to give me a headache. I pushed the folder a lot harder than I meant to and it slid all the way to the end where it splattered onto the floor, spreading its contents over the tile.

“Shit!”

“It’s okay. Let me help you.”

It was the Barbie doll receptionist, stooping down to pick up the mess I had created.

“Thanks.”

I bent down to help, hearing my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

“Are you alright?” she asked. “You look pale.”

“Fine,” I said.

“I’ve got to go,” Olin yelled to me across the room. “Something’s come up.”

“Wait, I’m coming,” I scrambled to pick up papers and stand at the same time.

“No. I’ll send a car back for you,” he called as he ran out the door.

“Wait, what’s happened?”

But Olin had gone and I wasn’t in a fit enough state to run after him between the pounding head and the throbbing ribs.

“Shit,” I swore. What the hell was that about? How could he just leave me like that?

I bent down to pick up the rest of the fallen papers and felt the receptionist’s stare burning into the top of my head. I looked up, squinting through the light and saw her stuff a piece of paper behind her back.

I had to stop bending over so quickly, my equilibrium was still not back to normal after getting knocked out by the blast. I stood up slowly. The receptionist turned a guilty shade of crimson and took a step away from me with a frozen look of fear in her eyes. She faltered slightly on her high heels. If she took off running she wouldn’t stand a chance. Even in my less than stellar state, I’d still catch her.

“Give me the paper now,” I said. “I don’t have time for games.”

“You don’t understand,” she whispered. “He’ll kill me.”

“Who? Toby?”

She nodded, her red lips quivering.

“Look, the police can protect you. Just hand over the paper.”

“I can’t,” she took another step backwards.

“Oh for God’s sake.”

I didn’t have time for this. Olin had gone and I had no idea where. I needed to know what was on that paper and fast.

I lunged forward and as she turned to flee, I grabbed her wrist and snatched the paper that was crumpled in her hand.

“Ouch,” she cried. “Stop it, you’re hurting me.”

“Shut up. Sit down.”

I grabbed a metal chair and shoved her down on it. If I had handcuffs, she’d have been in them already. I wasn’t in the mood to play games.

“So what are you trying to hide?” I asked.

The paper she had slipped from the file as we picked up the fallen pages was the non-descript psych report that had declared Toby Mathews mentally stable. I scanned the page trying to see any discrepancies. As I did she began to cry.

“Look, you’re getting on my last nerve. Why don’t you just do yourself a favor and tell me what you know.” I squatted down next to her, trying to be nice. It took every ounce of strength just to keep my voice soft. “I’m not the police. If you help me it will just be our little secret. Okay?”

She shook her head and more tears fell.

“You don’t know him,” she said.

I stood up, the soft voice gone for good. I’d given her a chance to come clean the nice way. Apparently we were going to have to do it the hard way instead. That was fine by me.

“Know him? You think I don’t know him? He’s killed two women already and now he’s holding a four year old child hostage. Do you understand? He’s only four, he can’t protect himself and this man that you are so afraid of has him. You and I both know how that could end so tell me what you know.”

I grabbed her shoulders and shook her in frustration but she just started crying harder. I looked at the creased page, flattening out a piece that had folded over where it said that employee 1742 was mentally competent. Something wasn’t right.

This had to be it. The clue I’d been looking for all along. I opened the file and there it was staring me right in the face on the very first page. Toby Mathews was employee number 1743 not 1742. The report was a fake.

“What do you know about this?”

I jabbed at the paper with my finger.

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“You’re joking right?” I shouted.

She was wasting my time. I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled out my gun and pressed it against her temple. That did the trick. She let out a little shriek.

“You wouldn’t shoot me. Would you?” she stammered. “There are cameras all around us. You’d never get away with it.”

“You think I really give a fuck about getting away with anything? All I care about is saving the life of a four year old child. If that means killing you in the process well that’s a risk I’m willing to take. You see I don’t care what happens to me. But you do. You want to go back to your fancy home with your expensive shoes and Egyptian cotton sheets. You don’t want to end up in the morgue with a bullet hole in your head.”

Of course I didn’t really mean to shoot her in the head but a nice clean round through her leg would probably be sufficient enough to make her talk. Unless she passed out from the pain but I was prepared to take that risk.

“Okay then. Have it your way.”

I cocked my gun and pulled it from her temple, then shoved it hard into her upper thigh.

“No I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you,” she screamed.

“I don’t know, maybe you’ll focus better with a bullet as incentive.”

“No I’ll tell you I swear, please.”

“Okay then, talk.”

“I helped him. I helped him get his job here.”

“Why?”

“He was charming and sweet,” she said.

“Charming? Sweet? A moment ago you were afraid he was going to kill you, now you think he’s sweet? Because if you do then you’re in the minority. Everyone else around here seemed to think he was a creep.”

“At first he was sweet,” she said. “That’s why I helped him get this job but once he had it, well he wasn’t so sweet anymore.”

“What happened?”

“We went out on a date and he tried to rape me. I fought him off and swore I’d press charges but he said I’d be sorry if I did. I should have believed him but everyone says that don’t they? They never mean it,” she started to sob again.

“What happened?”

“I filed charges and the next morning I found my cat on the doorstep with a stake through her heart and a note that said if I didn’t drop the charges then I’d be next.”

“So you dropped it?’

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell the police?”

“Because I would have been dead long before they could have done anything about it. I’d have been the one skewered on my doorstep or I would have just vanished into thin air without a trace. I know what he’s capable of.”

“So tell me how to find him. Help me stop this before it goes too far.”

“He won’t be at the address on his papers, that’s his Aunt’s address. He’ll be at his mother’s. She has a place on Bridgeport Drive. He likes it there, it’s damp and disgusting.”

She scribbled the address on a little scrap of paper, hand trembling as she did. I knew she was scared and that she had good reason to be. Her only saving grace was that her disappearance would have aroused suspicion among the
Digiteck
employees. But she was right, in helping me she had placed herself in harm’s way and if for some reason he got away from us he would no doubt come after her.

“I want you to get yourself down to the station. Ask for Detective Olin or Captain Bright. Can you do that?”

She nodded.

“You can’t stop him,” she whispered. “No one can.”

“Well I have to try. Just get yourself down to the station,” I called out as I left the building. Sitting there limp and shell shocked, I wasn’t sure if she would.

Outside I paused for a moment in the shade and lit up a cigarette, then dialed Olin’s cell phone. It was hot and humid out, the mid afternoon heat wave that came before the daily storms. They were building in the distance by the coastline, deep purple swells rising up into the sky. The phone rang and rang then clicked over to voice mail. I hung up and dialed again.

“Damn it Olin, where are you?”

Sweat started to trickle down my back. It soaked through the thin cotton shirt I was wearing. The phone just kept ringing and then going through to voicemail no matter how many times I tried.

“What’s happening? I’m onto something. Call me back.”

In my annoyance I failed to leave any significant details and felt that it really served Olin right. He left me with no hint of where he had gone and as the blinding sun bounced off the concrete parking lot, I realized he also left me with no car.