Book One: Part II: Random Evil - Chapter Two
Baker’s Office – 1:45 p.m.
Baker received a call from the Lab. Only three sets of prints were found. Ed’s, the man who delivered the box, Nathan Quillary, and herself.
He’s back.
“Of all the damn times for him to surface. Thank goodness the Captain does have my back. But now, do I keep Stevie, or send him home where I know he’ll be safe. Dammit all!”
2:09 p.m.
A memo was put in each of her team members inbox that the ‘Saint Peter’s Church Killer’, a phrase turned out by the media, was back.
Baker wouldn’t tell Stevie, but the day after Christmas, she was going to send him back home. She tried to call his father, but he never returned any of the thirteen messages she left. Either he’s ignoring her, or holiday shopping for his lover? Other half? It was still difficult after all this time to wrap her head around the fact he’s gay. Significant other was how he put it.
Maybe he can get out of whatever mode he is in and return her calls. Our son’s life is in danger, again.
My job puts him in danger, she thought. If I delivered the morning paper door-to-door, who would want to kill a newspaper delivery person? Grimacing, she remembered last year; two delivery boys were injured during separate robberies.
Baker called Stevie at home.
Two rings.
“Baker residence. Stevie speaking.”
“Hi, Stevie. Look, I’m leaving in twenty, so be ready when I honk the horn.”
“Okay. Movie, pizza, and then we come home and unwrap our presents!”
“And guess what? You have some extra presents, too. The guys down here bought you some things.”
“That’s awesome, mom! See you soon. I love you!”
Me too, Stevie. Me too.
Radisson Inn – 20 Miles South of Buffalo
Monday Night – December 24th – 10:58 p.m.
“It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who gets lonely during the holidays. I mean it’s one thing if you’re on opposite side of the country and can’t be there with family, like my parents and sister. At least I did get to talk to them today and wish them a Merry Christmas, but it still isn’t the same as being there. You know?
“Then there are those times when you’re in and out of a relationship at this time of the year. It just brings you down when you’re alone. You know?
“But hey, we got lucky tonight, I guess. Maybe fortunate is a better word. But, well, Merry Christmas, Claire.”
She turned after reaching into her purse and held a Smith & Wesson .38.
Stan’s eyes became big as saucers.
“Is this a joke? Did you come to my room just to rob me? On Christmas Eve?”
“No and shut your mouth. I didn’t come here to rob you. I came here to kill you. Sit in that chair. NOW!”
Stan began to sweat. She said she was going to kill him. Day after tomorrow he had an audition at Summer’s Music Hall. He wasn’t going to get the part in the play.
He felt handcuffs around his wrists, then duct tape was wrapped around his face covering his mouth. Claire bent down in front of him and duct taped each ankle to the heavyset chair.
Then the real horror began.
She reached inside her purse again, and in her left hand, she extracted a barber’s straight razor.
“You won’t be very pretty after tonight, Stan. I’m going to fix that once and for all.
“Did you know I auditioned once and was told I wasn’t beautiful enough? They gave that role to Julia Roberts. Don’t you agree I am far more beautiful that she is?
“If I could have, I would have sliced her face off!”
She stepped closer with the straight razor.
Stan nodded his head up and down in agreement with her. It was all he could do.
Stan’s entire body was soaked in sweat, and his urine let go some time ago, making a small puddle before evaporating into the carpet.
“I knew you would agree. Let me show you something else, Stan.”
She put the straight razor down on a small table and then lifted her one-piece dress over her head. She was completely naked.
“There. Don’t you agree I have a beautiful body? You wanted to fuck this body, didn’t you?”
Again, all Stan could do was nod his head. His heart was trip-hammering. Every inch of his being was trembling.
“LIAR! You don’t want me! You never wanted me! You bastard! I will fix you for this!”
She reached over and grabbed the straight razor.
“This will hurt you more than it will me. Try to get used to it. I already am.”
That was when Stan screamed behind the duct tape as she started slicing layer upon layer of his face away. Each new upward cut caused more muffled cries of pain. Blood dripped down his shirt.
Claire continued until his face was left skinless. Then she tilted his head back and sliced deeply, left to right. Stan didn’t make any more noises.
Baker’s Townhouse
December 24th – 11:59 p.m.
“Merry Christmas, Stevie.”
“Merry Christmas, mom. This is probably the best Christmas yet. We got to be together for everything, and no phone calls, and no dead bodies. That’s neat. It’s just us.”
“I wish it could be this way all the time.”
“Oh, it’s cool mom. I understand, you know I do. Some days are better than other’s and this day was one of them.
“Thanks for all the presents. Tomorrow, maybe, we can play Spell Bounder and Raven Quest.”
She grinned.
“Maybe. Now close those eyes and get some sleep. See you in the morning.”
She walked out of his room, closed the door, and smiled on the way to her room.
Then her phone rang.
“Baker.”
“No need to try to get this call traced, sweet Janis. I won’t be there, but rest assured, neither will there be any bodies lying about.”
“Who are you? Why did you return the body parts? Why are you killing people?”
“Janis, Janis, sweet Janis. So many questions I will give no answers to. I only called to wish you a Merry Christmas and may the coming year be a much better one than this one. If we weren’t on opposite sides, I would certainly enjoy your company. As it stands, one day I’m afraid I will have to kill you. Then, your son. Then that waste for a human being who pretends to be a father. Oh, let me see; I believe his name is Mark. Isn’t that correct?”
Baker’s breathing deepened. How did he know about Mark?
“I can already smell your fear, Janis. But not too worry for now. I have no immediate plans. The future hasn’t played itself out just yet the way I want. All in good time, sweet Janis. Until then, I will pray for you. Pray that you won’t be killed until I have you in my grasp.
“Give my best to Stevie and Mark. Bye-bye sweet Janis.”
There was silence as Baker stared at her cell phone. She called her cell provider and requested to speak with a supervisor.
“My name is Lieutenant Janis Baker, Twenty-Second Precinct in Montie, New York. My transaction number is ACT-125-57-90-OKY. I want the last call I received traced and an exact location. I will hold.”
While waiting, on her landline, she called Ed.
“Merry Christmas, Ed. Did the Steelers win?”
“That they did, by fourteen. Merry Christmas to you, too. But this isn’t a social call, is it?”
“No. Our boy is back again. He just got off the line with me. I have the phone company putting a last call trace on it as we speak.”
“All right. I’m already half-dressed. I can be there in twenty. Pick you up and we can go from there.”
“I’d rather not leave Stevie alone tonight.”
“It’s okay, mom. I’ll just lock up and won’t let anyone in that doesn’t look like you.” Stevie smiled and yawned at the same time.
“You know, Baker; he’s a cop in the making.”
“Don’t I know it. See you shortly.”
Hanging the landline up; the supervisor spoke up.
“The location is 19th and Murrate in Montie. However, it is a payphone.”
“Thanks.” She closed her cell phone, looked at Stevie, blew him a kiss and waved him back to bed.
“Not until you’re out the door, mom.”
“I’m not going anywhere tonight.”
She then called the Forensic Lab.
“Hi, Gloria. This is Baker. Do me a favor and send a couple guys to 19th and Murrate to dust for prints on a payphone.”
She redialed Ed on the landline.
“I know. Doesn’t matter how many prints they find. I want the results on my desk by the twenty-sixth. Thanks.”
“Hello.”
Closing the cell down again, she said, “Ed? Do me a favor. Instead of coming here, just meet a couple guys from the lab at 19th and Murrate. It’s a payphone. Sorry about this, really.”
“No big deal, Baker. It’s won’t take long. I’ll be back in bed in no time. Hold the fort down there; try to get some rest. I’m pretty sure I can handle a big, bad payphone. See you Wednesday.”
“Thanks, Ed. See you then.”
Stevie was still standing in the living room rubbing his eyes.
“Go back to sleep. Mom is staying home tonight.”
He grinned sheepishly, turned around and went back to bed, and was under the covers and asleep within a minute.
Baker stood next to the bed looking down on her little man.
He was one blessing in her life she would never lose.
Crosstown – A Family Home
December 25th - Tuesday – 9:00 a.m.
Jarrod Hempler, for better or worse, was just your average sixteen-year old boy. He was going through those teenage years of growth and maturity. Almost six-foot, and still growing, acne splotched all over his face, he wasn’t likely to be seen with any high-school girls at any Friday night dance anytime soon.
Jarrod is considered an exceptional student: a Brainiac. Lately, he wasn’t feeling too much in the brains department. He was feeling sad. His own self-esteem level dropped. His parents were on him about not wanting to mingle with the other kids in school.
“Interaction is important,” his mother would say.
“How do you expect to maintain friendships when you don’t even try?” his father would say, but to Jarrod, those things sounded like demands, commands, and it was truly pissing him off.
The kids at school wouldn’t associate with him unless they needed his help for schoolwork, or tests. Jarrod wasn’t an athlete, he wasn’t good-looking, but he was the brunt of their behind-his-back jokes.
That would change.
This Christmas morning, he was the first one awake. He was fully dressed as he walked past the fake holiday tree with unopened presents lying about, and he headed out to the shed in the backyard where his father keeps all of his hunting supplies, as well as other “special memento’s” as he father would say from his days in Vietnam.
It was easy to get into. A tumbler lock. His father trusted him enough to let him have the combination and was often asked to come out here to bring something to his father.
Opening the door, he flipped on the switch and the inside was illuminated with three overhead fluorescent bars of light.
On one wall were three crossbows and one-hundred four-point tipped arrows.
Jarrod walked right past them. He had something much better in mind.
On another wall display were an AR-15, an M-14, and two pearl-handed, nickel-plated .45’s. Below each were four boxes of ammo for the handguns, and six clips for the rifles. Under the table there was a box filled with two dozen grenades. Then he spotted a Beretta .457 with a silencer attachment. There was only one clip for that one, but Jarrod knew he wouldn’t need the whole clip for what he was planning.
He decided to use that one first, just not today. He had a better day in mind.
He smiled, turned around, shut off the lights, relocked the shed and went inside the house in time to hear his mother say, “Jarrod, come into the living room. It’s time we opened our gifts to each other.”
“Yes, mother. I’m coming.”
There sat his mother, sitting sideways on the floor next to the gifts, and his father in his favorite recliner, smoking his silly little pipe.
His self-esteem kicked back into gear.
Baker’s Townhouse – 9:55 a.m.
“Thank you for returning my calls, Mark.”
“So what’s the problem this time?”
“Look, Stevie doesn’t know what I want to do just yet, but I think it’s best if he came back home to you for now; for the same reasons as before. Only this time could be worse.”
“How much worse, Jan? What’s going on?”
Although they have been divorced a while, hearing him use her first name, still tugged at her heartstrings.
“The one the press dubbed as the Saint Peter’s Church Killer, is back. To make this officially worse, Mark, he knows your name. I think he may also know where you live.”
“Maybe it would be safer if he stays with you. Then again, maybe not. Hell, go ahead and send him back. School isn’t back in session until the second. So when, tomorrow? Or sometime over the weekend?”
“Let’s shoot for day after tomorrow, Friday. I do have my house under surveillance. Remember the Beauty Killer? She might make her way back here as well.”
“Jesus, Jan. That insane witch nearly killed you. Please, be careful. Call me when you know when he’ll land at the airport. Can I talk with him for a little while? I promise not to mention any of this to him. He’d rather hear it from you.”
“True. Hold on, and thanks, Mark. Oh, and Merry Christmas.”
Holding the phone against her thigh, she yelled for Stevie, and he came bounding out of his bedroom saying, “Mom, you have to try these new games with me. They are just too awesome!”
“It’s your dad.” She handed him the phone and walked into his room, staring at the video game.
“Hey, dad! Merry Christmas. What? Oh yeah. Things are great here, never better. Mom’s learning how to play Mortal Kombat 6, and ….”
Lady D’s Nightclub
December 25th – 10:45 p.m.
Claire had been sitting on the same barstool over two hours, nursing three drinks during that time.
She hated holidays. It reeks of all that glad-tidings crap. She had had hopes of seeing someone tonight she could enjoy herself with, but the holidays kept most of the customers away.
“Hey sweets, I’m going to close early tonight. If you look around, you and I are the only ones here. So do me a flavor and drink up and drive home safely.”
Claire looked the woman over a little closer. She was a pretty girl, maybe around thirty, tops. A tad on the chubby side, but nothing really disgusting. Claire could do her easily enough.
“I think I can manage the drive home part, but home is over three-thousand miles from here. I don’t think I could get back there tonight.”
“Oh. Where from, then?”
“Seattle. I came out here to get out from under a bad relationship with a girl after six years.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” The bartender placed her hands over both of Claire’s. “Where are you staying for now?”
“I’m at the Ryan Inn, just up the street from here.”
“Mmmm. You know that’s an adult motel, right?”
Claire smiled and winked.
“Forgive my manners. My name is Cyndie.” She stuck out her hand and was pleasantly pleased when Claire traced her fingers over her hand.
“I’m Claire. I have a rental parked in the lot. I can wait there until you close. Then you can either follow me over, or just drive over with me. We could worry about your car in the morning.”
“I’ll just follow you.”
Claire stood, and leaned across the bar. Cyndie leaned forward as well. Both gave each other a lingering kiss that promised so much more.