Fool Me Once
Chapter 1
The Bullpen was only starting to quieten down after another extremely busy late shift. It was just gone eleven and the constantly ringing phones had finally started to be more intermittent. It was Mike's much hated Halloween shift and the usual prank calls and wasted time call outs had been as prolific as ever. Mike was in his usual foul humor as a result and all the guys in the bullpen knew only too well to avoid him as best they could. The group of weary looking detectives arrived and left the coffee table at regular intervals refueling on strongly brewed caffeine and then sunk into their desk chairs to savor the reviving liquid as they wrote up the reports from their busy shift.. Steve was still writing furiously at his desk, a file open in front of him and his left hand massaging his left temple as he wrote, when Mike exited his office and stood refilling his coffee cup, muttering in annoyance under his breath which brought a brief smile to Steve's face, behind Mike's back.
"Boy, I HATE this holiday most of all. Nothing but crackpots and lunatics dressing up and wasting our time. Do you know what I think Buddy boy?" Mike started to ask as he turned to find Steve smiling and staring at him in amusement.
" ... They have nothing better to do with their time and energy and they should use that energy doing something more constructive for their community. Why if you had your way that would be the forfeit for all those found wasting police time at Halloween, community service, right?" Steve answered without taking a breath as he repeated what Mike had told him every Halloween he had worked with the man, so much so that he could now recite it off by heart.
Mike's face fell as he realized how many times he had probably recited his views to his young partner and blushed slightly as he noted Steve's amusement. Chuckling as he finished his first sip of coffee, he headed towards Steve's desk and sat on the edge.
"Hmmmm ... I guess I've told you before how I feel about this holiday, huh?"
Steve laughed out loud before turning to write some more and as he tilted his head still highly amused, he continued lightheartedly.
"Yeah, you've told me once or twice alright Mike ..." Steve cajoled, not telling the real truth of exactly how many times he had told him his viewpoint on Halloween.
Mike flushed redder and looked up to peruse the stilted atmosphere in the bullpen and saw a few detectives catch his eye before quickly turning away again. Jerking his coffee cup pointedly in their direction he asked next.
"What's up with those guys?"
Again Steve laughed, feeling more comfortable than the others about conversing with his partner on this occasion that Mike abhorred.
"Well they know how you feel about this evening and they're avoiding you as best they can." Steve uttered honestly.
Mike gave a wry smile at the effect he was having on his men and nudged Steve's shoulder playfully.
"Well it serves them right after that stunt they pulled last year, fooling me into going to that Halloween party of theirs. I HOPE that's not going to be an issue this year Buddy boy because if they try that again I'M gonna ..."
"Relax Mike ..." Steve intervened with a calming hand on the older man's arm. "I think it's safe to say that after the grief you gave them about it last year that you don't have to worry about it this year, ok?"
"So no-ones planning any surprises for me this year? Are you SURE about that Buddy boy?"
"Yes, I'm sure ... So relax! The shift's almost over anyway ..."
Mike studied Steve's down turned face, as he continued writing and studying the case file open on the desk in front of him, to try and glean were Steve's comforting words genuine or not but as curiosity got the better over his paranoia, he dropped his cup onto the desk and retrieving his glasses from his inside shirt pocket, he placed them on and looked sideways down at Steve's file.
"What's that you're working on?"
Steve dropped his pen down and leaned back in his chair weary eyed, rubbing them as he did, stifling a yawn before his answer left his lips nervously.
"It's the serial attacker case. I was just having another look at it that's all ..."
Mike looked at Steve unnervingly and Steve flustered under the insistent stare.
"What?"
"Boy that's still really bugging you isn't it? The guy we picked up fits the description we have Steve and his alibi is weak at best. He still can't prove he was where he said he was. He has previous convictions of sexual assault and harassment AND ... he lived in the vicinity of two of the victims. He sure looks like our man to me, Buddy boy. What makes you doubt this case?"
Steve shifted uncomfortably in his chair and then piped up, frustration practically dripping from his voice.
"I don't KNOW Mike ... Look maybe he is our man but there's something about these cases that just isn't gelling for me. The description our eye witnesses gave us is of a thin, weedy man yet he manages to over power several women and assault them and strangle them with little or no signs of a struggle. And speaking of that, Hartman didn't have any signs of defensive wounds when we picked him up, no scratches, no bruising ... nothing!"
"Well he could have drugged them, chloroform or the like. That would explain that part Steve."
"Then why didn't the coroner pick up traces of that on the victims, huh? You heard Bernie, Mike, cause of death was a vicious choke hold. Straightforward strangulation and yet the description of the guy we have wouldn't have the strength for that."
Mike rocked back against the desk and sighed heavily, still studying his partner and noticing the faint twinkle in his young partner's eyes and knowing what that meant, he asked openly.
"Ok hotshot ... I'll bite. What's YOUR theory?" Mike uttered, before wagging a finger in Steve's direction. " Come on, I can see you have one. Out with it."
Steve seemed to hesitate, knowing that he was working off pure gut instinct and practically no evidence but seeing as the older man had asked, he decided to get the idea off his chest where it had been festering for long enough.
"Alright ... Maybe Hartman is our man but I believe that there are two perps involved in this one. One strong guy who grabs their victim and subdues them and then Hartman takes over and well ... you know ... assaults them."
As his theory was delivered, Steve saw Mike stare at him incredulously and suddenly he didn't feel so convinced that he should have tipped his hand so soon anymore. He watched as Mike leaned back and shook his head from side to side before removing his glasses and replying.
"Well ... what can I say? That's some theory Buddy boy. But have you got anything other than gut instinct backing that up? Anything at all?"
Steve flustered and shook his head.
"No ... Not yet. But I'm working on it ... " Steve uttered determinedly as he then leaned forward to reiterate his point further and more purposefully. " Look Mike, think about it. The last victim, Marci Taylor. She was five foot six and of stocky build. There's no way a guy like Hartman could overpower her so easily. There has to be an accomplice. Someone they didn't stand a chance against."
Mike tilted his head and rubbed his chin.
"I guess it's possible and your theory stands up in part but Steve ... how come no-one's ever seen this ... monster of a man that you talk about then huh? Surely if they did, they'd remember him!"
"Well ... my theory on that is that Hartman meets the girls and coerces them somehow to go with him someplace else and then that's where the second guy is waiting ... Once they enter well ... they don't come back out alive ..."
Steve rubbed a tired hand across his face as the last chilling words left his lips and Mike could see in that instant how much of a toll this case was taking on the young man. He looked down at the array of victim's photos that Steve had strewn across his desk and seeing Steve staring at them helplessly, he sighed heavily. Reaching out he grasped Steve's shoulder and with his other hand he bundled the file back hastily together and closed it as Steve looked up at him curiously.
" Steve ... Staring at those pictures is only going to torment you, you know that right? "
Steve nodded and sighed himself.
"Yeah ... Yeah, I know that. It's just ... four women Mike. All in their twenties with their whole lives ahead of them ... We need to catch these guys and right now, I really believe one of them, the most dangerous one is still out there. More women are in danger Mike. I can feel it ..."
"Steve, your theory is plausible, I'll give you that but right now that's all it is ... A theory. We have no proof whatsoever of a second person being involved and Hartman is a known drug user. Now you know how strong drugs can make even the most unlikely looking person, don't you? Right now we have to work on building our case against Hartman. Look ... it's been a long day. Let's call it for tonight and work on getting some of those eye witnesses in tomorrow morning to see if we can get a positive ID on Hartman and try to blow some more holes in that alibi of his, ok?"
Steve sighed again and nodded reluctantly, his fingers still fiddling with the closed file as his conscience wrestled with him about leaving it for now. A firm grip on his shoulder drew his attention.
"Come on Buddy boy. After a good night's sleep, things will seem a lot clearer, mark my words."
Mike then rose and entered his Office to collect up his belongings as Steve stood up wearily and started putting on his jacket.
"Hey Steve?" Haseejian called from his desk as he beckoned Steve over.
Steve donned his jacket and walked to Norm's desk leaning over with his hands on the Armenian detective's desk as they lowered their voices in conversation. Mike spotted the exchange from his stance at his coat rack and alarm bells went off in his head as he remembered last year's events and the events that led up to his enforced surprise Halloween party. Mike had been on the lookout all day for signs of anything suspicious but so far had seen none that would concern him but this looked remarkably suspicious to him and so he grabbed his coat and stood further into the doorway to his office, as he tried to listen to the two men whose backs were to him now as they spoke in whispers. Only certain parts of the conversation filtered through to him.
"You coming later? ... Yeah, I'll head over later ... Stuff I need to do first ... Mike ... I don't know ... Not after last year ... You ask him then ... Look I'll see what I can do ... but I'm not making any promises, alright? ..."
Those words twisted in Mike's gut and he glared at the back of his partner's head in annoyance.
"Oh no. It's not happening again this year. ... You're not going to fool me that handy again, Buddy boy " Mike thought to himself as he fetched his fedora and cleared his throat purposefully behind the two men.
Both men jumped at the sound and Steve flustered and spoke sheepishly back to his colleague.
"Ok, see you Norm. Bye guys ..." he flustered as he started towards the bullpen door with Mike following and watching him closely.
As they reached the outer corridor and Steve showed no signs of slowing, Mike reached out and grabbed his elbow, halting his movement and spoke in an accusing and annoyed tone.
"What was that little conversation about between you and Norm, huh?"
"What?"
"Don't WHAT me."
"It was nothing Mike really. Just something the guys are doing later and they asked if I wanted to go along, that's all ... It doesn't involve you, don't worry."
"Doesn't involve me huh? Well now it didn't involve me last year either, did it? And look what happened? Now you're sure they're not planning another little surprise party for me this year because ... well if they are and you are found to be complicit then you do know I will have no other choice but to stuff your head in your pocket, now don't you?" Mike added playfully but with just the right amount of threatening tone added for best effect.
Steve chuckled nervously and patted Mike's shoulder affectionately.
"Yes, I KNOW that, ok? Look you have my word, alright? No surprises this year ... You have nothing whatsoever to worry about. Now ... are we going home or not, huh?"
Mike studied Steve a little more but could see that there was something Steve was holding back. Not totally convinced by Steve's little act, he played along and nodded halfheartedly.
"I have your word, huh?"
"Absolutely ... No surprises ..."
"Ok then. That's good. Let's go ..."
The two walked wearily in companionable silence to the car and Steve insisted on driving which only made Mike even more suspicious about his actions. As he pulled the car out of the underground car park and drove towards De Haro Street, the radio crackled to life and drew both men's attention.
"All cars in the vicinity of Hyde Street and O'Farrell Street we have a reported code 918 ... Please respond ..."
The radio fell silent as Steve screeched the car to a sudden halt causing Mike to slide unceremoniously forward on the passenger seat and grip the dashboard.
"STEVE! What in God's name are you doing?" he admonished, as he saw Steve turn to him wide eyed.
"Hyde and O'Farrell Street. Isn't that close to where we found the last victim of the serial attacker?"
Mike nodded but still eyed up his partner with a worried expression.
"Yes, I think so. It's close anyway. Why?"
"918 is a reported cry for help, Mike ... It could be victim number five ..."
Before Mike could say another word, Steve grabbed the radio and spoke animatedly into the receiver as he gunned the engine at the same time and did a dramatic U-turn heading back in the direction from which they had come, causing Mike to once again cling to the upper roof handle for dear life at the dramatic maneuver.
"This is Inspectors 81 responding to that 918. We're a couple of blocks away. Send back up. Over."
"Steve, will you slow down. Let the others handle it. Our shift is over. Besides ... Hartman is in the Holding cells back at Bryant Street so it can't be his next victim."
But Steve wasn't listening as he drove like a man possessed, his need to capture those perps and stop them hurting any more innocent women too great to ignore a cry for help such as the one they had received. He had an ache in his gut that was telling him he was right to pursue his instincts. As they approached the reported crime scene, Steve grabbed the receiver again as he studied the deserted neighborhood and sidewalks along the route for anything remotely suspicious as he cruised the car along the street.
"Dispatch, do we have a full address on that 918 please?"
"Yes Inspector 81... 666 O'Farrell Street ..."
"Thank you. Going into investigate. Where's our back up? Over."
"Nearest car to you is ten blocks away en route ..."
"Ten four"
Steve pulled up outside the multistory house and leaned forward to get a good look at it. It looked quite dilapidated and neglected ... The front porch was adorned with graffiti and filth. It gave Steve the chills as he looked out at it but his gut was persistent none the less. Steve got out of the car and crossed to the sidewalk, unclipping his holster and drawing his weapon as he did, but then he noticed Mike hadn't followed him. Stepping back towards Mike's window, he spoke back to his partner while still keeping the property under observation.
"Mike ... Come on ..."
Mike smiled to himself as he watched Steve's nervous actions and shook his head.
"666 huh? That's a nice touch Buddy boy but not very original."
Mike was now fully convinced that Steve was setting him up for another surprise Halloween party and was determined to spoil the young man's plans come what may.
Steve risked a brief glance sideways at his partner.
"What? What are you talking about?"
Oh you don't know what I'm talking about, huh? A spooky house. 666, the number of the devil and Halloween night all put together and you expect me to go into that house with you. You know you're still very convincing Steve, I'll give you that but I think this time I'll let you handle it on your own, ok?"
Steve was growing more confused by the minute.
"What? You're not coming in with me?"
"Well everything looks quiet to me. It was probably just another Halloween party scream that someone heard. Another false alarm. I'm sure you can handle it ok. If you really need my help just shout, ok? Besides I think I'll just call Bryant Street and check that Hartman is still safely under lock and key ... Go ahead ... You go and check out this little charade ..."
Not fully understanding what had gotten into Mike all of a sudden, Steve shrugged his shoulders and headed towards the house stealthily. Arriving at the front door and stepping over God knows what that squelched and rustled under his feet he tried the front door gingerly. It was locked up tight. Casting a nervous look back at Mike and seeing him on the radio, he headed around the corner to the side entrance which to his further dismay was open just a crack. He took a deep steadying breath as he pushed the door slowly in, almost holding his breath as he saw how dark and foreboding the inside of the property was. There was a sickening stench of urine and decay and other vile smells that lingered in the air. A mix of neglect and mildew and other undecipherable aromas. Ignoring the way his stomach lurched, Steve stepped in further into the darkness, keeping a tight grip on his 38" as he moved and feeling the wall with his other hand to guide his steps. He suddenly wished Mike had come with him for back up. He had never let him go into unknown danger like this before and he wondered again what had caused the older man's reluctance now.
Shaking the thought from his head, he heard a definite sound of movement off to his right and swallowing hard he headed as silently as he could in that direction, given the fact that the ancient marble floor that lay beneath his feet made his footsteps incredibly hard to silence. He stood on one side of a huge arched doorway where the door was flung open and with one final deep breath to gather his nerves about him he turned into the room to see to his horror a male form crouched over a limp, motionless female who lay on the floor, their forms lit only by the streetlights and moonlight outside that were dispersing their glow into the room, hitting that spot eerily.
Steve pointed his 38" at the man who was fumbling with his belt buckle at the time and yelled.
"FREEZE! Police! Get off her. Put your hands in the air and stand up slowly ..." he instructed.
Steve couldn't make out the man's features that still lay distorted in shadow but his movements definitely mirrored those of Gregory Hartman! But it couldn't be. He was in a holding cell back in Bryant Street ... Wasn't he?
The man slowly got up as requested, his belt swinging open and his trousers visibly undone and an evil laugh echoed from the perp's lips.
"Typical cops. Always arrive in time to spoil all the fun, eh?"
Steve squinted his eyes as he heard Hartman's distinctive gravelly voice and yelled at him again as he continued closer, his finger never loosening from the trigger
"Hartman! How the hell did you ...?"
"Haven't you ever heard of bail, copper? You pigs had no real evidence to hold me, now had you?"
Steve's blood boiled with anger as he walked closer and saw the motionless body of a young girl at his feet, her skirt hitched up but her underwear still in place. She looked no more than nineteen and he shouted at Hartman to back away while he bent down, his gun still aimed at the perp's chest, to tentatively check the young girl's pulse. He couldn't risk taking his eyes off Hartman so he reached his fingers aimlessly down and cringed as he felt her cold skin. Placing his fingers along her neck gently he prayed inwardly that he would find a pulse and was heartened when he found one albeit a very faint one. He had arrived in time.
Heartened momentarily by that fact, he let his guard down as he briefly looked down to study the young girl's condition just as Hartman turned and bolted for the door on the other side of the room. Steve jumped to his feet and pointed his gun at the bolting man and shouted.
"STOP HARTMAN OR I'LL SHOOT!"
As the man never listened, Steve raised his weapon and fired at the departing man's leg in the darkened room. His bullet hit its mark as the perp yelled and stumbled forward but he still managed to disappear through the open doorway. Steve went to run after him just as a muscled arm suddenly closed around his neck from behind catching him off guard, while the other muscled hand grabbed his right wrist and tightened, threatening to crush the bone as the excruciating pain made him drop his weapon involuntarily. He struggled against the hold as best he could but the man who gripped him had extraordinary strength. He felt the choke hold tighten further restricting his airway and felt panic grip his heart. He couldn't yell or make a sound and prayed that Mike would arrive soon. Remembering his training he tried everything he could think of to get the perp to release his hold, using every last bit of strength he had to stamp as hard as he could on the perp's foot. He swung his elbow behind him as viciously as he could into the perp's ribs then reached up and gripped a handful of the perp's hair but nothing even made the man flinch. Feeling the darkness start to close in as his air ran out, he dug his fingernails into the arm that held him but again just a disgruntled groan escaped from the man's lips and he tightened his hold in revenge.
Feeling himself being dragged to the floor unceremoniously and now gasping for oxygen, Steve made one last attempt to search the floor with his fingers for anything that could help save his life. Feeling the darkness start to close around him, he felt something sharp beneath his fingertips that felt like broken glass and grabbing it, he picked up the piece and plunged it into the perp's forearm desperately. The perp roared in pain and finally released him as he sunk the short distance to land on the cold marble floor. Coughing and gasping for air, Steve felt the darkness gradually subside and clarity return but he also knew that his actions would not distract the heavily built man for long. Scouring the floor for his gun, he spotted it on the moonlit floor and clambered forward, wheezing and coughing hoarsely as he flailed his hand to reach it just as the perp's heavy weight landed on top of him crushing him to the floor.