Tom Dayton is Loose Again

Chapter 12

1

"Chief, we have to find Eve before Dayton harms her," Ed Brown said. Mark was standing next to Ed with the same concerned look on his face.

Ironside was just as worried as they were. It now appeared Frank Vincent could very well be the murderer of the women. The problem was with the evidence against Tom, there was the possibility of two murderers. The chief couldn't take the chance. Tom Dayton was dangerous. Even if he wasn't the murderer of any of the victims, the man was simply unstable. Damn it! Ironside blamed himself. He should have been keeping a closer eye on Dayton. He should never have taken him at face value that he was actually trying to prove himself to be cured. Then again, he really hadn't. Obviously, everything that he did to keep track of him had not worked.

It didn't matter to him that Mark had been completely fooled by Dayton. Of all people who should have showed more suspicion, it was Ed. Yet, he hadn't seemed all that concerned about Tom. Ironside should have followed his instincts. He didn't believe Dayton was cured when they released him. He let his guard down, and it wasn't often he did that. Now, because of his lack of tighter security around Dayton, Eve was in trouble; no trouble wasn't the right word. She was in danger. There was no telling what Dayton might do to her. The chief ordered Eve to be hard on him in order to see if he could take orders from a woman. It was the right decision on Ironside's part. He wasn't questioning his decision. What he was questioning was not acting on his own suspicions. Certainly, he issued orders that involved checking up on Dayton, but it was now obvious, those orders were not enough.

"Chief, are you listening?" Mark asked anxiously.

Drawn back into the conversation, Ironside answered, "Yes, Mark. I am listening."

"We just can't sit here and do nothing. We have to find out where Tom has taken Eve."

Although Ironside always allowed his staff to voice their opinion, he was a bit irritated with Mark. "It seems to me, Mr Sanger, that you were the one advocating that we give Tom a break. You were convinced he was cured and deserved a chance to prove it. You thought I was being too hard on him."

"Okay, I admit he fooled me. I really thought he was trying, but that is not the problem. We need to find Dayton and fast before he harms Eve."

"And we will. Ed, you and Carl, find Frank Vincent. Mark and I are going to pay a visit on Tom's sister."

"Okay, Chief," Carl said.

"Chief, I don't get it. Why was Vincent targeting women? He has an extreme hatred for cops. Why not go after cops; you and I in particular?"

"He's a killer, Ed. You know that. He probably wanted to blame the murders on a cop. He had no way of knowing Tom was not one. He was in a police uniform. The important thing is that we find him before he kills again. Everyone, get moving."

The tone of Ironside's voice sent them all on the run.

2

Eve Whitfield woke up. It took her a minute to realize what happened. She had been taken by gunpoint. The chief had been right. Tom Dayton was not cured. Damn those doctors for releasing him. He now had the blood of several women on his hands. Dayton snapped from the beginning. He killed Ed's girlfriend by accident years ago, but none of these latest killings were by accident. They were cold-blooded murders, and she was being held by the man who killed them.

The important thing was not to panic. The chief wouldn't panic in this situation. He would be using that brilliant mind of his to find a way out of this. Eve tried to focus. Tom used chloroform on her. Her hands were tied and she was gagged. That was the last thing she remembered. Had he been planning her abduction all along? Is that how he got the drop on the other women? She was in a room. It was too dark to tell where she was.

Eve got off the floor. She noted the floor was made of cement. Groping in the dark, she moved slowly over to the nearest wall. It too was cement. She could see a light coming from another room. As she headed for the lighted room, something was familiar about her surroundings. Eve couldn't shake the feeling she had been here before. As she arrived at the door, Eve opened it wide enough to enter. She found herself looking into a bathroom. That took one strategy off the list of possible escapes. She would not be leaving this room.

Eve check the drawers of the vanity. All of them were empty. There was nothing in the room that could be used as a weapon against Tom Dayton. Disappointed, she left the bathroom to see if she could find a light switch. There had to be one on the wall somewhere. The most logical place was near the door . . . where ever that was. It was too dark to even make out the walls. The first thing she would do is familiarize herself with her surroundings. Knowing the size of the room was important. She walked one way until she came upon the wall, then repeated the process until all four walls were checked. The room was not very big; around 12 feet by 12 feet with only the bathroom connected to it. The only door out of the room was locked.

Whitfield walked back over to the door. A flashlight would have come in handy, but since she didn't have one, she would have to make the best of what she did have. Right now, that was simply her detective instincts. She reached up to check the door knob. Naturally, she would find it locked. That was to be expected. People didn't abduct you and put you in an unlocked room. Without any light except what was coming from the bathroom, it made an escape more difficult.

Eve couldn't tell whether she was dealing with a deadbolt lock or one she would be able to open with a credit card. Even if it opened with a credit card, she didn't think Dayton would have locked her in here with her purse since her gun was inside. No doubt he looked into her purse and decided not to return it to her. She would have to find another way to get the door open.

Eve went back into the bathroom since it was the only source of light. The more she thought about it even the bathroom looked familiar. The feeling she had been here before was becoming even stronger. Now, she just had to figure out when she was here an where here was.

Whitfield turned quickly as a key was placed the lock and turned. The door opened. "Miss Whitfield, I want you to move over to the bathroom in front of the light where I can see you. I have your gun, so don't try anything."

Eve did as Dayton demanded. If there was one thing she learned from the chief, it was to pick your battles. This was not it. Dayton was a murderer. He was desperate and would not hesitate to kill her if provoked.

"That's a good girl. I brought you some food. I am going to set it on the table beside the door. It is just McDonalds, but it is better than nothing."

"Tom, you can't keep me locked up in here. You are only getting yourself in more trouble. Because of your mental condition, you are not responsible for the murders."

"What are you talking about? I didn't kill anyone," Dayton said.

"You don't think you did, Tom, because your mind is blocking it out."

"NO! I am not blocking out anything. I didn't kill anyone!"

Eve was on dangerous ground. Being careful how she handled Dayton could mean whether she lived or died. He was not going to keep her alive for long. He couldn't afford to. She was witness to his kidnapping her. If he left her alive, she would be able to tell the chief what he did. Tom Dayton didn't have any choice but to run. She was a loose end. He would kill her before he ran. So far, they couldn't prove he killed any of those women. Eve worried that he might very well get away with it.

"Listen to me, Tom. The chief can help you. You can go back to the institute where you will get the help you need and . . ."

"I not going back there!" Dayton roared. "Stop telling me what to do. You women are all alike. You just try to push me around. Well, look at where you are. Who's the boss now?"

"I am not trying to boss you, Tom. I am trying to help you."

"Just shut up! You hear me! I didn't kill anyone. You aren't going to hang that rap on me. You've been riding me ever since I came to Chief Ironside's office. I don't have to do what you say any longer. You have to do what I say."

"Tom, the chief is going to find out about the police uniform. The police sketch artist is going to drawn your likeness when the witness describes you."

"Police uniform, what are you talking about?" Dayton screamed.

"The uniform you are wearing," Eve said, keeping her voice calm and steady to avoid any further agitation.

Tom looked down at his clothes. He felt stinging pain in the back of his head and it went away immediately. What was he doing in a police uniform? Looking around the room, he wondered where he was. What was he doing with Eve Whitfield?

Eve watched him closely. Something was wrong. He seemed to be experiencing some kind of pain. Yet, it didn't last very long. "Are you all right, Tom?"

The pain hit him again. This time it didn't go away. It wasn't as intense, but it was still there. He looked over at Whitfield. "Don't even pretend that you care anything about me. You have been riding me constantly since I came to Ironside's office. Women bosses are all alike. They think they are better than we are. I got news for you; you're not. I'm not taking any more from you. Like a streak of lightning, Dayton went over to Eve Whitfield, and using the back of his hand hit her across her cheek. Eve went flying backwards. She hit the wall, slid down and landed on the floor.

Dayton turned around, left the room, and slammed the door. Eve heard the key turn. She was once again locked in the room by herself. She got up off the floor and walked over to the table. Eve picked up the McDonald's bag, reached in and pulled out a quarter pounder with cheese, fries, and a Coke. Like Dayton said, it wasn't much, but it was food. Eve walked back over to the wall she just left. She sat down and began eating the food she was provided. She knew she had to find a way out of the room she was in, but right now hunger was taking precedent.

3

Mark Sanger pulled the van to a stop in front of Mary Dayton's home. He got out of the van and went around. Ironside was already lowering himself in the lift. He wheeled off; Mark step behind his wheelchair and began pushing him toward the front door of the house. Ironside had been to the house before with Ed Brown when he was a uniform cop. Sitting there reminded him of the time he and Ed came to the home to pick up Tom Dayton. Dayton had been responsible for the death of Ed's fiance. Tom became an obsession of Ed Brown's. Ironside understood, but didn't want to see the obsession ruin the young police officers career. So, he got him involved. Ed handled himself professionally, and again when Dayton was released from the mental institution the first time. Ed was instrumental in getting Dayton to admit he attacked the librarian.

The board of the mental institution was wrong in releasing Dayton. Despite not believing that Tom was responsible for the murders of those women, he certainly wasn't cured. The chief was determined to find him before he harmed Eve. Mary Dayton might be the key to locating him.

Mark rang the doorbell, and the two of them waited. Soon enough, the door opened. The look on Mary Dayton's face was that a recognition as well as disapproval.

"Your Chief Ironside. I remember you. In fact, the last time I saw you, you came here to get Tom. What's the problem now? I understand he was released. Will you ever stop hassling him?"

"Miss Dayton, I would like to talk to you. May we come in?" Ironside said softly.

Hesitating a moment, Mary Dayton finally opened the door and stepped back. Ironside grabbed both sides of the door frame and pulled his wheelchair over the threshold. Mark followed him in.

Mary led them to the living room. Ironside settled his wheelchair next to the couch as Mark sat down.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" she asked him.

"Are you aware that Tom was released and was instated as my aid at police headquarters?" Ironside asked.

"I read it in the paper. Obviously, they really didn't want to give him a chance. Otherwise, they wouldn't have put him in your office. From the beginning, you have done everything you could to put him away."

"Miss Dayton, I only want to see the Tom gets the help that he needs. I'm not here to argue with you. Your brother has been putting on a police uniform and leaving Police Headquarters at night. He has been seen in the company of several women who have been murdered."

"Oh, I see. You weren't satisfied with locking him up as crazy. Now, you want to hang a murder ramp on him. Unbelievable!"

"You didn't let me finish. I don't believe that Tom is guilty of those murders. I do believe that the board at the mental institution never should have released him. I have reason to believe that he is not cured, and is very dangerous. There is evidence that he has taken my police woman and is holding her. I want to find Tom before he harms her."

Mary Dayton stared at Ironside in shock. "I don't believe it. I don't believe he would harm anyone."

The detective wasn't going to debate her regarding her brother's condition. He wanted answers. Finding Eve before Dayton harmed her was top priority. "Miss Dayton, I need to find Tom. Has he been here to see you?"

"How could he? You obviously have been holding him prisoner in your office. I thought about coming over to see him, but I didn't figure I would be allowed in."

"You could have come to see Tom any time you wanted to. Tom was not a prisoner. In fact, I encouraged him to get out of the office. He chose not to, or rather he chose to lead us to believe he didn't want to. As I said, he was leaving the office in the evening in a policeman's uniform."

Mary turned her back on him and walked over to the fireplace. She placed her hand on the mantle. "This never would have happened if you had just left him alone."

"He was responsible for the death of a woman at the hospital. We had no choice but to have him committed at that time. It was better than charging him with murder or negligent homicide. Mary, the only way you can help Tom is to tell us if you've had any contact with him since he was released from the mental institution."

When she turned around to face Ironside again, she had tears in her eyes. "I tried to help him when he lived here; I really did."

"I know you did. Miss Dayton, have you heard from Tom?" the chief asked again.

She shook her head. "He never came by here and he hasn't called me. I don't know where he is, Chief Ironside. There is nothing that I can tell you." The tears now flowed freely. "Please leave."

Ironside nodded at Mark indicating they were leaving. Sanger stood up and followed Ironside to the front door. He opened it and the detective wheeled out of the house.

4

Frank Vincent open the door just a crack to look into the restaurant. His wife was now running it. It had been a long time since Frank had been at the business. He spent several years of his life in prison, and all because of Ed Brown and Robert Ironside. He couldn't think of two people in this world that he hated more. It wasn't surprising since Frank Vincent had a hatred for cops that went back a long ways.

Brown had tricked him into leading him to the gun he used to kill police officers with. As a result, they were able to hang that murder on him. Vincent felt no remorse whatsoever in killing the two cops that had arrested him, and the judge as well. They all deserved it. Cops were always harassing him.

He found he hated prison guards just as much. If he thought the police hassled him, the prison guards were even worse. Frank Vincent wasn't exactly a model prisoner while in prison. He got into fights with other prisoners, and attacked guards who attempted to make him do things he didn't want to do. Vincent had a volatile temper and he was extremely quick to lose it. About the only thing he did regret was that he didn't kill Ed Brown. Of all the cops he came in contact with come he hated Brown the most. He was the major reason Frank had spent time in prison.

That changed when they decided he needed to be in a more secure prison since he had made so many enemies in the local one. Frank was aboard a bus when it blew a tire and overturned. Luck was with him that the bus driver had taken a rural route. Despite the fact that he was in handcuffs, he was able to overpower the one guard as other prisoners took out the other one. Neither guard survived. What was two more murders charged against him? He already had been sentenced to spend the rest of his life in prison. Two dead prison guards were not going to add to it. How could you add to a life in prison sentence? Frank removed the key to the handcuffs, unlock them, and left the scene as fast as he could. He couldn't have cared less about the other prisoners; the only one Frank Vincent cared about was himself.

Vincent had known intention of sticking around San Francisco. He only needed to come to the restaurant to get as much money from his wife as he could. She's stupidly had visited him on a regular basis in prison. Vincent really didn't care anything about her. The woman he really cared about was the one he was having an affair with when Ed Brown interfered in his life. Unfortunately, that woman wanted nothing further to do with him when he was convicted of killing those cops. He hadn't seen her since and she refused any calls that he made to her when he was allowed to.

His stupid wife still loved him despite knowing that he was spending his time with another woman. She was waiting on customers since the restaurant was extremely busy at the moment. All Frank could do was wait until she could come back and talk to him. He made his presence known to her. He thought there was no fear of her turning him in, and she would give him whatever money was available. The last thing he wanted to do before he left San Francisco was kill Brown and Ironside, if that was possible. He was pretty sure he could get to Brown, but Ironside would definitely be more difficult. He was always surrounded by cops. That aid of his was always checking the van that the crippled detective drove around in. Even if he could get into the police garage unnoticed, any bomb he would hook to the van would likely be discovered.

Shooting Ironside from a distance would not necessarily guarantee his escape. Maybe killing Brown was all he needed to do. That would be a severe blow to the cripple both professionally and personally. Unfortunately, he would likely have to settle for that scenario.

Vincent was becoming impatient. His wife was still cooking and waiting on tables. Why didn't she hire somebody to help? She only seemed to have one employee. It was more than an hour before the crowd thinned out enough for her to come into the back room.

His wife flew into his arms. Vincent faked affection and passion. She was stupid enough to believe it, so it was easy for him to do.

"Frank! I can't believe it! Have you been released?"

He held her face between both hands and smiled down at her. The smile was phony, but he didn't care. As soon as he got whatever money he could get, he was going to take care of Brown and then get out of San Francisco. His escape had to have hit the papers. Did the woman ever pick up a newspaper? Was she really stupid enough to believe that they would release him from prison after being convicted of murder? Newspapers were delivered to the restaurant daily. He didn't take into consideration that since he was convicted and sent to prison, that the running of the restaurant became her responsibility. It didn't occur to him that she didn't have time to read a newspaper. She had a living to make, and she didn't have him to help her.

"Didn't you hear? I was being transferred to another prison, and there was an accident. I was able to get off the bus and disappear." He didn't mention that he killed one of the guards in doing so.

There was a look of shock on her face. That meant that her husband was a fugitive. "Frank, you have to turn yourself in. The police will be looking for you."

"They've been looking for me. They aren't going to find me. I'm leaving San Francisco for good. I'll head down to Mexico. They won't be able to find me down there."

With a bewildered look, she said, "I don't understand. What about us? What about the restaurant? How can you just leave?"

"Didn't you hear anything I said to you? They will be looking for me. I don't have any choice but to leave the country. Going back to prison is not an option. You have the restaurant and a way to make a living. Beyond that, you need to forget about me. Make your own way through life. I'm getting out of here. Right now, all I want from you is money so that I can leave."

"But Frank, I barely make enough to get by. I can't give you any money."

Vincent grabbed her by the hair. "Half of this restaurant is mine. What I should do is make you sell it and give me my half. All I want right now is enough money to get out of this God forsaken City. So, I would suggest you get the money for me if you know what's good for you."

"Are you threatening me?"

He pulled a gun from his waistband and pointed it at her temple. "Does this answer your question?"

She couldn't believe it. This wasn't the man she married and lived with for so many years. He was actually threatening her with a gun.

"You will go across the street and withdraw all the money in the savings account and the business account. Whatever you make after I leave is yours. It's a small price for you to pay. If the business was sold, it would bring a lot more than that."

"What's to stop me from calling the police when I get inside the bank?" she asked him.

Placing the barrel of the gun under her chin, he snarled, "I'll tell you what stopping you. If I see any cops around here, I'll start shooting everybody in this restaurant. What do you think would happen then? No one would want to come in here and eat. You would have the blood of these people on your conscience. Is that what you want?"

She looked up at the man that she had loved for years. She couldn't believe he turned into this animal. There wasn't any doubt that he would do exactly what he said he would. Frank Vincent was not the same man. "All right, I'll get you the money. After that, I never want to see you again. But, before I do, you are going to sign off the deed of the restaurant, our house and the car."

Vincent almost smiled. So the little bitch did have a little fight in her. The house and the restaurant meant nothing to him. He certainly didn't want to live with her, and it wasn't possible for him to stay in San Francisco and run the restaurant. He had to get out of town before the police caught up with him. The car, on the other hand, was something he wouldn't agree to. "I'll sign off the house and the restaurant, but not the car. I have to have a way to get down to Mexico. I'm taking the car. Considering what the house and the restaurant are worth, you are getting the better end of the deal. Go get the deed to the house and the restaurant, I'll sign off of them just as soon as you bring the money back. Oh, and if you have any inkling to call the police, just remember if I see them, I'm going to start shooting people in this restaurant."

"I'm not going to call the police. Now, let me go so I can go get the money."

Vincent removed the gun from underneath her chin. "Remember what I told you. If I see any police, I'll start shooting."

She turned and left the back room. After telling her employee that she would be back in a few minutes, she left the restaurant and crossed the street to the bank.

Just as she was about to open the door to the bank, she was approached by two men. She recognized Sergeant Ed Brown immediately. The other man she didn't know.

"Mrs Vincent," Brown said, "I am sure you remember me. I'm Sergeant Ed Brown and this is Lieutenant Carl Reese. You probably already know that your husband escaped from prison. We would like to talk to you."

Ed and Carl immediately noticed that she was extremely nervous. Something was wrong. "Can we cross the street and speak with you in your restaurant?" Carl asked.

"No, you can't go near the restaurant! People will die if you do. Please, let's go inside the bank before you are seen."

Neither man hesitated. Sergeant Brown opened the door, and the two of them followed Mrs Vincent into the bank. "What is wrong? Have you seen Frank?" Brown asked her.

"He's in the restaurant. There's a back room. He's waiting for me there. Frank is forcing me to withdraw all of the money out of the business account and our savings account. He plans to head for Mexico. He promised to sign off the deed to the restaurant in the house. He's keeping the car in order to drive it down to Mexico. Sergeant, he told me if I called the police, he would start shooting people in the restaurant. I don't want to be responsible for that. I'm going to withdraw the money, give it to him, and when he signs off the house and the restaurant, he will leave me alone."

"Ed, call in backup," Carl said. Brown pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Police Headquarters. Carl, being the higher ranked officer would decide how the situation would be handled.

"Is there a back door into the restaurant?" Ed asked her.

"Yes, of course."

"Is that door locked?" Carl inquired.

"It is, but I have the keys with me." She pulled them out of her pocket and showed them to the detectives.

Carl took the keys from her. He handed them to Ed. "I'm going through the front door. I'll give you time to get around back. When he sees me come in the front, he'll try to go up the back. You take him. And Ed, he's a killer. Don't take any chances. If he points a gun at you, shoot without hesitation."

"Aren't we going to wait for backup?" Brown asked.

"I don't think we can. I requested it, but if we wait too long, he's going to become suspicious when his wife doesn't return. Let's get moving."

Brown looked at Mrs Vincent. The tears were rolling down her face. Despite everything, Ed could tell she still loved her husband. She also knew the chances of Frank Vincent coming out alive we're not good. He would shoot his way out. The man would never surrender. He'd proven that in the past.

"You stay here and don't come out of the bank," Brown told her and then left with Reese.

When outside, both men went in the opposite direction to get out of the way of the view of the front door of the restaurant. Ed headed around the back as Carl stayed to the side of the restaurant where he couldn't be seen. Reese gave him plenty of time to arrive at the back door. When he was sure that Ed was in position, he pulled his gun from the holster and held it low as he entered the front door. He walked over to the counter and ordered a cup of coffee. Although Vincent would undoubtedly recognize Ed, Carl was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to recognize him.

In the back room, Vincent watched as the man entered the restaurant and sat down at the counter. He looked familiar, but Frank couldn't place him. Glancing at his watch, he was beginning to wonder what was taking his wife so long to withdraw the money. Vincent couldn't afford to hang around the restaurant much longer. Ironside would naturally have Brown check out the restaurant to speak with his wife as to whether she had seen Frank since he escaped from prison.

The more he looked at him, Vincent was beginning to believe he was a cop. Occasionally, he looked around the restaurant like a cop. He was holding his right hand so that it was concealed, like a cop. Vincent was not into panicking. Even if his wife had turned him in, the cops could not have arrived this quickly. He figured that if the man was a cop, he had been sent by Ironside to question his wife. Vincent would just play it cool and waited out. His wife would be back shortly. If she didn't show up, then he would know that she actually did turn him in. She should know that he would do as he said and start shooting the people in the restaurant. He had nothing to lose. If they caught him, he was going to spend the rest of his life in prison anyway. Vincent would make his wife live with the blood of those he killed on her conscience for the rest of her life.

Ed Brown approached the back door of the restaurant. Using the key Vincent's wife gave him, Brown inserted it into the lock. He made no attempt to be quiet about it. He stood to the side in case Vincent started shooting through the door. He stood there with his service revolver in his hand and waited for Vincent to make the next move.

Frank Vincent turned around quickly toward the back door when he heard the lot disengage. Now he was certain that the bitch contacted the police. If the man at the counter was a cop, and Frank believed he was, both doors were covered. He had no choice but to shoot his way out. It made more sense to go out the back door, but if the cops were waiting for him, he would be cut down before he got away. Therefore, he was going out the front, and he would take everybody with him that he could. Frank made up his mind he was not going to be taking alive. Going back to prison was not an option. His only regret was that he couldn't put a bullet in his wife's head for betraying him and contacting the police. He had no way of knowing they met her at the door of the bank.

Carl Reese kept glancing back at the door in the back of the restaurant. Ed would be in place by now. He needed to get the people out. Fortunately, it was now past the dinner hour, and the restaurant wasn't full of people. Nevertheless, Carl had to protect them. He quietly walked over to the nearest table and pulled back his suit coat to display the badge connected to his belt. He whispered for them to leave immediately. Without hesitation, the couple stood up and left the restaurant. Carl moved on to the next table. Keeping a close eye on the door in the back, he looked for any sign that Vincent would storm the restaurant.

Frank watched as the man who was sitting at the counter went from table to table, and watched the people get up and leave. He now had no doubt the man was a cop. It was now or never, or there wouldn't be anybody left to shoot. Vincent opened the door and entered the restaurant with his gun pointed directly at Carl Reese.

"Drop it, Vincent, you are surrounded," Carl shouted, his gun pointed right back at Vincent.

Furious with his wife for turning him in, Vincent pulled the trigger just as Reese dove behind one of the tables. Carl got off a shot hitting Vincent in the shoulder. Shots rang out behind Vincent hitting him in the back. He fell to the floor.

Carl hurried over to him and kicked the gun away from him. "Ed, call an ambulance." Looking down at Frank Vincent, he saw the straight glare of his eyes. Reaching down, he checked his pulse. He didn't have one. "Never mind, Ed, call the coroner."

The cook stood up from behind the bar where he had dropped when the shooting started. "Is it over?"

"It's over," Ed told him. At least this part of it was.

Mrs Vincent burst through the door. When she saw her husband lying on the floor covered in blood, she hurried over to him and began to sob.

"Do you want to call the chief or shall I?" Carl asked Ed.