This story is definitely fun to write, since I have no idea when I sit down
to a new chapter where the characters are going to take me. I wrote the
first part over 2 months ago and it sat, staring at me from my documents
folder. Then I published it here last Monday, and that night chapter 2
just slipped out my fingers. I am glad you are liking it, and thanks to
you 3 who have reviewed so far. Especially Divamercury, since I have
really enjoyed your stuff. And now to see where Ian and Sara take me
tonight…
Sara walked into the precinct the next morning with a plan of action in mind. Having decided to take Nottingham's suggestion at face value, she finished off her morning java, rounded up Jake, and they headed out to the address Jake had dug up on Jason Kingsman the day before. It was an ordinary looking house, in need of a new coat of gray paint, in a pleasant middle-income neighborhood. The grass needed mowing and weeding, dandelions beginning to take over, reminding Sara why she had never cared for yards, but the roses planted in front of the first floor windows were beautiful.
"His file said he was single," Jake said. "No mention of wife or kids."
"There could still be a roommate," Sara reminded him.
"Maybe we should have gotten a warrant," Jake suggested wryly.
"Way ahead of you, Rookie," Sara told him, pulling a tri-fold sheaf of papers out of her back pocket and handing it to him. "I made the calls last night, and had it waiting for me this morning."
"Cool," he said absently, looking the papers over to see everything was in order.
"Shall we," she asked, smugly amused.
"Let's do it," was his reply as they walked up onto the porch. He knocked. A dog started barking from inside, but no other sound was heard. They waited about a minute, then Sara rang the bell, eliciting a renewed frenzy of barking from the dog. Still no one came to the door. Sara tried the knob and found it locked.
"Sara," Jake said quietly, nudging her. She turned and followed his gaze to the elderly lady walking her toy poodle out on the sidewalk. The lady had stopped and was watching them with undisguised curiosity. Sara muttered a quick "stay here" to Jake and stepped off the porch to approach the lady. She pulled out her badge and showed the lady, who leaned close to look at it.
"I'm Detective Pezzini," Sara said a little louder than normal. "Mind if I ask you a few questions?"
"Gracious no, dear," the lady said, smiling. "Go right ahead."
"Thank you, ma'am." Sara nodded. "Do you live around here?"
"Oh my, yes. And call me Grace. I've lived on this block for fifty-two years."
"Do you know the gentleman who lives there," she asked, pointing to the gray house where Jake waited on the porch.
"Not well. He doesn't come out of his house much, except to walk Angel, his golden retriever. And sometimes to get the mail or admire his roses."
"Do you know if he lived alone?"
"He does have quite a bit of company from time to time but no one permanent. Young girls," Grace said with disapproval in her tone. Sara nodded. That tallied with what the bartender had told them. Then Grace tilted her head questioningly. "You said 'lived alone' Detective," Grace pointed out. "Has something happened to him?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am," Sara said politely. "I'm not at liberty to say." Inwardly she cursed herself for her slip-up, glad Jake was out of earshot.
"It must be bad then," Grace said philosophically. "He's passed, then, hasn't he?"
"I really can't say," Sara said, a bit regretfully. Grace was such a nice lady, and Sara disliked having to take that stance with her. "Thank you for your help, ma'am."
"You're welcome, Detective. Come along, Trixie," she said to her poodle, and continued her walk, glancing back at Sara over her shoulder a few times. Sara waited until she had rounded the corner at the end of the block, then went back up to where Jake was waiting a bit impatiently.
"So, what'd she say," he asked as she rejoined him on the porch.
"Kingsman lived alone, had many female visitors, and only came out with Angel," Sara recapped.
"Angel?" Jake looked confused.
"His golden retriever."
"Oh," Jake said, his expression softening for a moment. "How do we get in?"
"I don't want to kick in the door unless I have to," Sara said. "Lets check for keys, open windows. You know the drill."
"Right." He began poking around the porch, lifting the doormat, while Sara began circling the house, checking the windows as she went. Jake finished with the porch and circled around back the opposite direction. He stopped at the entrance to the back yard, a chain-link fence enclosing the whole back lawn and a dog house. Sara was on the other side, watching Angel standing on the back porch, growling.
"No luck," she asked across the yard.
"Nope," he responded.
"Hang on, I'm coming around," she told him, then headed back to the front yard. She joined him a minute later where the dog was now watching him, but not growling. "We have to do something about the dog before we can get in, no matter how we get in," she said, noting the dog flap in the back door.
"Let me try something," Jake said, and before she could stop him he opened the gate and walked in confidently. "Angel," he called. "Here girl. Let's be friends." He held his hand down low, and Angel's tail started wagging. The dog trotted down the steps and up to Jake as if they were old pals, snuffling his hand then licking his face. Jake laughed and scratched her ears vigorously. "C'mon in, Pez," he said. "She won't bother you, will you, girl," he said, finishing with her ears and working on her belly when Angel rolled over on the grass.
"How'd you do that," Sara demanded, impressed, as she came up to him.
"I've raised retrievers most of my life," Jake said. "They just want to be loved and fussed over. If you do that, they'll be your friend for life." He had a dopey grin on his face as he patted Angel's belly and rose. The dog trailed him as he went up on the porch and tried the back door. It wasn't locked. Angel pushed it wide open with her nose, and went in. Jake and Sara drew their guns and followed cautiously. The place was nicely furnished, but not too extravagantly. They searched the main floor in only a few minutes.
"You go up, I'll go down," Sara said at the foot of the stairs. He nodded and went up, Angel following at his heels. Sara grinned and headed back to the kitchen where the basement stairs were. She flipped on the light and headed cautiously down, listening for any indication there was someone down here. The room she was in was small, and cluttered with boxes. She glanced over them, finding only the usual junk, and moved to the door at the other end of the room. It had a deadbolt lock and a doorknob lock. Sara was willing to lay good money that what they had come to find was behind that door. She went back up to the main level and called for Jake, who came rattling down the stairs with the dog in tow.
"Find something," he asked.
"Yup," she replied.
"Good, 'cause there isn't anything upstairs." He followed her down, but the dog stayed at the top of the basement stairs, sitting quietly. She pointed to the double-locked door and he whistled. "That's a lot of security."
"Wanna bet he wasn't hoarding the family silver in there," Sara asked.
"How do we get in," he asked.
"Power tools," she told him after studying the door a few more moments. "Grab that drill kit and a power cord from over there," she pointed to a pile of boxes in front of a workbench. He retrieved them and plugged in the extension while she fit a bit into the drill. It took a few minutes, and a few extra holes, but she managed to drill out the screws from the other side and pop off the bolt lock housing and the knob. It was Jake's turn to be impressed.
"How did you know how to do that," he asked, watching closely over her shoulder as she worked the locks open.
"Danny lost his keys one night and he had to call a locksmith out. Since he wanted a new set of locks anyway, the locksmith didn't waste any time trying to pick the bolt and just drilled it out. I watched him and asked questions."
"It wasn't my fault, you know," Danny said from behind Jake. Sara managed not to jump. "You insisted we go to that bar, and you let that guy pick a fight. I lost them watching your back." She ignored him, but her lips twitched as she tried not to smile, remembering.
Pushing the door open, she felt around for a switch, flipping the lights on. What the harsh, clinical light revealed looked like a laboratory of some sort. Tubes and beakers with powders and liquids were all neatly labeled and lined up, and there were vials in a rack. Sara located the file cabinet and started rifling through folders while Jake read labels and poked into cupboard doors.
"Jake," Sara said. "Listen to this. 'Subject experienced increased heartbeat and body temperature. She reported feeling dizzy, and described seeing tracers across her vision not unlike PCP. Heart rate and body temperature raised beyond control, and subject went into cardiac arrest. Too strong a dose.' Sounds like he was experimenting on those girls he was bringing home."
"Yeah. Sick bastard. What's our move?"
"We call in a forensics and drug team and go back upstairs to wait for them," she replied. "This is out of our league."
"I'll buy that," he replied. They went back to the kitchen and made the call. An hour later the house was crawling with investigators.
"Well, Detectives," the head of the forensics team told them, "Your initial guess was right. He was working on recreational drugs in his lab. Stuff so new it isn't illegal yet, but would have been in short order."
"Could you identify traces of the drugs in the blood of a corpse," Sara asked. "We have several bodies in the morgue who could be this guy's victims."
"Chances are good. Want me to cross-check with Vicki and get back to you?"
"That would be great," Sara said. "We have several cases we may be able to close if there's some matches."
"I'll fill Vic in and have her get back to you."
"Thanks," Sara said. "Let's get out of here, Jake."
"What about Angel, Pez," Jake asked, looking down at the dog, who was leaning against his leg.
"Animal Control will come get her," she said.
"Animal Control!" He was dismayed. "Can't I take her?"
"I guess," Sara ventured. "As long as you let them know you have her, so if any family shows up and wants her they know where she is."
"Sure thing, Pez. C'mon Angel," he called the dog, and they headed out to the car together. Sara followed with a bemused look on her face. Who would have thought Detective McCarty had a soft spot for dogs? Then again, there was that picture of him she had seen at his place with that other golden retriever…
"Lunch," he asked as she slid into the passenger seat, Angel already laying down on the back seat.
"Something quick," she replied. "I have a few more things I want to look into on this case."
"Like what," he asked as they pulled away.
"Like Kingsman's employment history, and schooling. Where did he learn to do lab work? And why was he doing illegal research and killing people when he could have been working for a legitimate company?"
"I can answer that one," Jake said. "He used to work for Vorschlag, developing drugs for the military, and got fired last year."
"You've been busy," Sara said, wondering yet again just what connections Jake had that he could get files and information she couldn't access.
"I woke up early, so I came in and did some research," he said, shrugging it off.
"Military, huh?" Sara mused. "Black Dragons?"
"Probably. Vorschlag has had several military contracts over the years."
"Looks like it's time to pay Kenneth Irons another visit." Sara grimaced. She was really starting to find the billionaire's overly-smooth attitude annoying. Then again, she might catch Nottingham smiling again. Shaking her head, unsure where that thought had come from, she turned to pet Angel as Jake navigated traffic back into the city.
Sara walked into the precinct the next morning with a plan of action in mind. Having decided to take Nottingham's suggestion at face value, she finished off her morning java, rounded up Jake, and they headed out to the address Jake had dug up on Jason Kingsman the day before. It was an ordinary looking house, in need of a new coat of gray paint, in a pleasant middle-income neighborhood. The grass needed mowing and weeding, dandelions beginning to take over, reminding Sara why she had never cared for yards, but the roses planted in front of the first floor windows were beautiful.
"His file said he was single," Jake said. "No mention of wife or kids."
"There could still be a roommate," Sara reminded him.
"Maybe we should have gotten a warrant," Jake suggested wryly.
"Way ahead of you, Rookie," Sara told him, pulling a tri-fold sheaf of papers out of her back pocket and handing it to him. "I made the calls last night, and had it waiting for me this morning."
"Cool," he said absently, looking the papers over to see everything was in order.
"Shall we," she asked, smugly amused.
"Let's do it," was his reply as they walked up onto the porch. He knocked. A dog started barking from inside, but no other sound was heard. They waited about a minute, then Sara rang the bell, eliciting a renewed frenzy of barking from the dog. Still no one came to the door. Sara tried the knob and found it locked.
"Sara," Jake said quietly, nudging her. She turned and followed his gaze to the elderly lady walking her toy poodle out on the sidewalk. The lady had stopped and was watching them with undisguised curiosity. Sara muttered a quick "stay here" to Jake and stepped off the porch to approach the lady. She pulled out her badge and showed the lady, who leaned close to look at it.
"I'm Detective Pezzini," Sara said a little louder than normal. "Mind if I ask you a few questions?"
"Gracious no, dear," the lady said, smiling. "Go right ahead."
"Thank you, ma'am." Sara nodded. "Do you live around here?"
"Oh my, yes. And call me Grace. I've lived on this block for fifty-two years."
"Do you know the gentleman who lives there," she asked, pointing to the gray house where Jake waited on the porch.
"Not well. He doesn't come out of his house much, except to walk Angel, his golden retriever. And sometimes to get the mail or admire his roses."
"Do you know if he lived alone?"
"He does have quite a bit of company from time to time but no one permanent. Young girls," Grace said with disapproval in her tone. Sara nodded. That tallied with what the bartender had told them. Then Grace tilted her head questioningly. "You said 'lived alone' Detective," Grace pointed out. "Has something happened to him?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am," Sara said politely. "I'm not at liberty to say." Inwardly she cursed herself for her slip-up, glad Jake was out of earshot.
"It must be bad then," Grace said philosophically. "He's passed, then, hasn't he?"
"I really can't say," Sara said, a bit regretfully. Grace was such a nice lady, and Sara disliked having to take that stance with her. "Thank you for your help, ma'am."
"You're welcome, Detective. Come along, Trixie," she said to her poodle, and continued her walk, glancing back at Sara over her shoulder a few times. Sara waited until she had rounded the corner at the end of the block, then went back up to where Jake was waiting a bit impatiently.
"So, what'd she say," he asked as she rejoined him on the porch.
"Kingsman lived alone, had many female visitors, and only came out with Angel," Sara recapped.
"Angel?" Jake looked confused.
"His golden retriever."
"Oh," Jake said, his expression softening for a moment. "How do we get in?"
"I don't want to kick in the door unless I have to," Sara said. "Lets check for keys, open windows. You know the drill."
"Right." He began poking around the porch, lifting the doormat, while Sara began circling the house, checking the windows as she went. Jake finished with the porch and circled around back the opposite direction. He stopped at the entrance to the back yard, a chain-link fence enclosing the whole back lawn and a dog house. Sara was on the other side, watching Angel standing on the back porch, growling.
"No luck," she asked across the yard.
"Nope," he responded.
"Hang on, I'm coming around," she told him, then headed back to the front yard. She joined him a minute later where the dog was now watching him, but not growling. "We have to do something about the dog before we can get in, no matter how we get in," she said, noting the dog flap in the back door.
"Let me try something," Jake said, and before she could stop him he opened the gate and walked in confidently. "Angel," he called. "Here girl. Let's be friends." He held his hand down low, and Angel's tail started wagging. The dog trotted down the steps and up to Jake as if they were old pals, snuffling his hand then licking his face. Jake laughed and scratched her ears vigorously. "C'mon in, Pez," he said. "She won't bother you, will you, girl," he said, finishing with her ears and working on her belly when Angel rolled over on the grass.
"How'd you do that," Sara demanded, impressed, as she came up to him.
"I've raised retrievers most of my life," Jake said. "They just want to be loved and fussed over. If you do that, they'll be your friend for life." He had a dopey grin on his face as he patted Angel's belly and rose. The dog trailed him as he went up on the porch and tried the back door. It wasn't locked. Angel pushed it wide open with her nose, and went in. Jake and Sara drew their guns and followed cautiously. The place was nicely furnished, but not too extravagantly. They searched the main floor in only a few minutes.
"You go up, I'll go down," Sara said at the foot of the stairs. He nodded and went up, Angel following at his heels. Sara grinned and headed back to the kitchen where the basement stairs were. She flipped on the light and headed cautiously down, listening for any indication there was someone down here. The room she was in was small, and cluttered with boxes. She glanced over them, finding only the usual junk, and moved to the door at the other end of the room. It had a deadbolt lock and a doorknob lock. Sara was willing to lay good money that what they had come to find was behind that door. She went back up to the main level and called for Jake, who came rattling down the stairs with the dog in tow.
"Find something," he asked.
"Yup," she replied.
"Good, 'cause there isn't anything upstairs." He followed her down, but the dog stayed at the top of the basement stairs, sitting quietly. She pointed to the double-locked door and he whistled. "That's a lot of security."
"Wanna bet he wasn't hoarding the family silver in there," Sara asked.
"How do we get in," he asked.
"Power tools," she told him after studying the door a few more moments. "Grab that drill kit and a power cord from over there," she pointed to a pile of boxes in front of a workbench. He retrieved them and plugged in the extension while she fit a bit into the drill. It took a few minutes, and a few extra holes, but she managed to drill out the screws from the other side and pop off the bolt lock housing and the knob. It was Jake's turn to be impressed.
"How did you know how to do that," he asked, watching closely over her shoulder as she worked the locks open.
"Danny lost his keys one night and he had to call a locksmith out. Since he wanted a new set of locks anyway, the locksmith didn't waste any time trying to pick the bolt and just drilled it out. I watched him and asked questions."
"It wasn't my fault, you know," Danny said from behind Jake. Sara managed not to jump. "You insisted we go to that bar, and you let that guy pick a fight. I lost them watching your back." She ignored him, but her lips twitched as she tried not to smile, remembering.
Pushing the door open, she felt around for a switch, flipping the lights on. What the harsh, clinical light revealed looked like a laboratory of some sort. Tubes and beakers with powders and liquids were all neatly labeled and lined up, and there were vials in a rack. Sara located the file cabinet and started rifling through folders while Jake read labels and poked into cupboard doors.
"Jake," Sara said. "Listen to this. 'Subject experienced increased heartbeat and body temperature. She reported feeling dizzy, and described seeing tracers across her vision not unlike PCP. Heart rate and body temperature raised beyond control, and subject went into cardiac arrest. Too strong a dose.' Sounds like he was experimenting on those girls he was bringing home."
"Yeah. Sick bastard. What's our move?"
"We call in a forensics and drug team and go back upstairs to wait for them," she replied. "This is out of our league."
"I'll buy that," he replied. They went back to the kitchen and made the call. An hour later the house was crawling with investigators.
"Well, Detectives," the head of the forensics team told them, "Your initial guess was right. He was working on recreational drugs in his lab. Stuff so new it isn't illegal yet, but would have been in short order."
"Could you identify traces of the drugs in the blood of a corpse," Sara asked. "We have several bodies in the morgue who could be this guy's victims."
"Chances are good. Want me to cross-check with Vicki and get back to you?"
"That would be great," Sara said. "We have several cases we may be able to close if there's some matches."
"I'll fill Vic in and have her get back to you."
"Thanks," Sara said. "Let's get out of here, Jake."
"What about Angel, Pez," Jake asked, looking down at the dog, who was leaning against his leg.
"Animal Control will come get her," she said.
"Animal Control!" He was dismayed. "Can't I take her?"
"I guess," Sara ventured. "As long as you let them know you have her, so if any family shows up and wants her they know where she is."
"Sure thing, Pez. C'mon Angel," he called the dog, and they headed out to the car together. Sara followed with a bemused look on her face. Who would have thought Detective McCarty had a soft spot for dogs? Then again, there was that picture of him she had seen at his place with that other golden retriever…
"Lunch," he asked as she slid into the passenger seat, Angel already laying down on the back seat.
"Something quick," she replied. "I have a few more things I want to look into on this case."
"Like what," he asked as they pulled away.
"Like Kingsman's employment history, and schooling. Where did he learn to do lab work? And why was he doing illegal research and killing people when he could have been working for a legitimate company?"
"I can answer that one," Jake said. "He used to work for Vorschlag, developing drugs for the military, and got fired last year."
"You've been busy," Sara said, wondering yet again just what connections Jake had that he could get files and information she couldn't access.
"I woke up early, so I came in and did some research," he said, shrugging it off.
"Military, huh?" Sara mused. "Black Dragons?"
"Probably. Vorschlag has had several military contracts over the years."
"Looks like it's time to pay Kenneth Irons another visit." Sara grimaced. She was really starting to find the billionaire's overly-smooth attitude annoying. Then again, she might catch Nottingham smiling again. Shaking her head, unsure where that thought had come from, she turned to pet Angel as Jake navigated traffic back into the city.