Personality Plus
(Chapter 3)
© December 2009
Jim wearily sank down in the chair across from Sgt. MacDonalds' desk. Running his hand down his face, "Mac, I've checked out all of the Angela Greens on this list. I've come up empty so far. Not one of them fits the description; none of them drive a Volkswagen; and no one by that name works at Central Receiving, in any department. The closest thing they have is an Ann Greenfeld, and she's…."
"Who Jim? Did you say 'Greenfeld'?"
"Yeah; Ann Greenfeld. Does that ring a bell?" Jim perked up a bit in his chair.
"Ann Greenfeld doesn't, but there was a Robert Greenfeld that Pete shot and killed during a bank robbery about five years ago. If memory serves me correctly, it seems to me that he had a couple of daughters that would be about the age that you say this Angie girl is, if I'm not mistaken. Let me call up to records and have the report pulled. See if it lists next of kin or anything."
Mac picked up the phone and called the records department. A few minutes later he hung up, and said, "They're pulling the report for me. I'll run up there and get it. You'd better call Jean and let her know you might be a little late. If we can get next of kin names, we'll see if we can locate an address and check into it."
"Sure thing, Mac. Mind if I use your phone?" Jim asked, as Mac was heading out of the door.
"Help yourself. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Jim picked up the phone and dialed his home number. He quickly explained to Jean what was going on and that he would be late. He assured Jean that he would keep her abreast of what was going on and that he'd be home as soon as he could.
Just as he was hanging up the phone, Mac re-entered the office with the police report in hand. "Bingo on the next of kin! Greenfeld had two daughters, Ann and Vicki. Ann's the older of the two, by three years. According to this, she's about twenty-six now."
"I didn't realize that they put that kind of information in those reports, Mac; you know, the next of kin information."
"Only when it's a call that results in the officer assisted death of suspect. The 'dicks' gather all of the info they can on each and every person they talked to. In this case, they talked with both of the daughters, trying to find out if either one knew why their dad would want to rob a bank."
"And?" Jim inquired.
"And, the older daughter, Ann, told them that her dad had called her earlier that morning and was going to meet her for lunch…but before he could meet her, he was going to go to the bank and get some money. Apparently he was taking her out for a birthday lunch…her 21st birthday."
"Wow; imagine the emotional trauma she must've endured; knowing that her dad was going to rob a bank in order to take her to lunch." Jim pondered.
"More like, imagine the implications of knowing that her dad was killed on her 21st birthday…and Pete was the shooter. Jim, Pete could be in some very big trouble right now if we're barking up the right tree."
"Mac, if this Angie, Angela, Ann, or whatever her name is, is this guys' daughter, then we gotta find Pete…and fast!"
Mac nodded his head as he picked up the phone and called up to the detective bureau. He spoke briefly with Detective Jerry Miller about his speculations. Detective Miller took down the information and told Mac that he would do some checking and call him back shortly. In the meantime, Jim set about trying to find an address and phone listing for Ann or Vicki Greenfeld.
Afternoon had faded to evening before Ann returned to the house. Pete heard her come in and put her purse and a paper bag down before coming into the living room. He was torn between playing possum and pretending to be asleep, or trying to talk with her again and risking the possibility of infuriating her further.
She made the decision for him. "Get up!" She demanded.
It took some effort, but Pete managed to roll onto his back and struggled to get into a sitting position. He was taking too long for Ann's liking so she reached out and grabbed him by the arm, yanking him into a sitting position.
"I would have made it on my own, you know." Pete spat out without thinking.
"Yeah, well I don't have all night." She bent and untied Pete's feet. "Now, get up and walk."
"Where are we going?"
"To the bathroom…even people in prison are afforded basic amenities, after all."
Pete was surprised that she had actually taken his obvious discomfort into consideration, but at the same time, he was thankful. With his feet untied, he thought maybe he had a chance of getting away. Okay, I can run from her and dive through the window…maybe there will be someone passing by.
"If you're thinking of doing something stupid…don't. I'll shoot you where you stand." Ann pulled Pete's off duty weapon out of her waistband and pointed it at Pete as she motioned for him to start walking towards the bathroom.
"I wasn't intending on trying anything…I was just wondering how I am suppose to take care of business with my hands bound behind my back."
They had reached the bathroom and before he had a chance to elaborate on his question, Ann quickly unzipped his pants and stripped them and his briefs down to his ankles,
"You should be able to figure it out from here." She stated as she backed out of the bathroom, not leaving Pete much privacy. She was reveling in his obvious discomfort.
Business taken care of and clothes back in place, Pete was once again escorted to the sofa and ordered to sit down. Ann then re-tied his ankles together and went to the kitchen and brought back a plate with a hamburger and some fries on it, as well as a cup of soda with a straw. She proceeded to feed Pete as she had done the night before. This time, though, few words were exchanged and Pete was careful not to say or do anything to anger her.
Ding-dong…Ding-dong Someone was ringing the doorbell non-stop.
"Shit!" Quickly setting the plate on the coffee table, Ann got up and reached toward the end table where the duct tape was hanging off of the edge.
"OPEN THE DOOR, ANN, I KNOW THAT YOU'RE IN THERE!" Came the voice of Ann's younger sister, Vicki.
Pete perked up a bit, Yes! He thought. This is my chance. He was just about to yell when Ann grabbed the duct tape and slapped it, unceremoniously, against his mouth, stifling anything that was about to come out. Damn it! What do I do now?
"I'm coming, I'm coming. Just shut up and quit making a scene, will you?" Ann griped as she opened the door, carefully positioning her body so that her sister couldn't see inside.
"Ann, you have no business here, now move out of the way and let me in. I'll wait while you get your stuff and then you need to get out. I still can't believe you stole my passkey to this place. What exactly were you thinking, anyway?"
"Listen little sister, I needed a place to crash. Nobody's interested in buying this place anyway. You said yourself that it's way overpriced. What does it hurt for me to crash here for a few nights?"
"What does it hurt? What does it HURT? You're asking me…how can you EVEN ask that! Do you know that I could lose my job if my boss were to find out that you stole my key and decided to set up housekeeping here? I swear, Ann, sometimes you can be so damned immature! You never take the time to think about what consequences your actions might have on anyone else; you only think of yourself!"
"Oh for God's sake, quit bitchin' at me like you are some sort of high and mighty goody two shoes. Like you've never done anything like this before! Give me a break!"
Pete leaned his head against the back of the sofa, leaning as far as he could in order to try and get a glimpse of whoever was at he door. It was no use, Ann was blocking the door with her body, but Pete could hear the voice of another female. Great! Isn't this just my luck, two psychotic women…just what I really need in my life right now!
"Move over and let me in!" Vicki pushed her way passed Ann and walked into the living room, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw Pete, sitting bound and gagged, on the sofa. He was watching her with guarded eyes and he could tell, just by the look on her face, that she had no idea that her sister had pulled this stunt.
Vicki swung around toward Ann, who now had Pete's gun trained on her, throwing her off guard. She swallowed hard, choosing her words carefully so that she wouldn't anger her sister any further. "Ann? What's going on here? Who is that man over on the sofa, and why is he bound and gagged?"
"Dear little sister, you shouldn't have come here. But, since you did, now I have to tie you up too! After all, I can't have you running off and fetching the police, now can I?" Using the gun as a pointer, she motioned for Vicki to take a seat on the sofa next to Pete.
"Ann, you didn't answer my question." Vicki reminded her as she sat down next to Pete.
"This, my dear little sister, is Officer Peter J. Malloy. Ring a bell?"
"Officer Malloy…" Vicki's voice trailed off. She knew the name. She was eighteen, a senior in high school, when her dad was shot and killed during a bank robbery. Shot and killed by the man sitting next to her on the sofa. She nodded her head, "Yeah, I know the name, Ann; I also know that what you are doing is wrong…just plain wrong. You can't seriously be thinking what I think that you are thinking."
"Well…if you think that I think that I'm going to kill him, then you're right. That's exactly what I'm going to do…kill him; just like he killed Daddy five years ago."
At one time, Vicki wouldn't have cared if the man on the sofa was dead or not, but the facts couldn't be ignored, no matter how painful it had been to learn of them. After hearing actual accounts of what took place on that fateful day five years ago, Vicki's eyes had been opened to the truth; their dad had committed a crime that resulted in death for an innocent person, and serious injury for several others. Her sister had never embraced that revelation and had spent the last five years bitterly hating the man that had killed their dad.
Vicki was shaking her head back and forth, "No Ann, you can't. You can't do that. Officer Malloy was only acting in his job profession when he shot Daddy, and you know it. You have no right to do this, Ann."
"Shut up! You're just as bad a he is!" She pointed the gun at Pete. "He keeps spouting off about it being Daddy's fault that he had to shoot him. Well I am NOT going to listen to it! It wasn't Daddy's fault, damn it! It was HIS fault." Bringing the gun up, and barely taking time to aim, Ann discharged a round into Pete's shoulder. The closeness of proximity caused Pete's body to slam back against the sofa.
Vicki paled as she watched Pete's body rock backwards. She saw the look of shock on his face and the spray of blood as the bullet made impact and he momentarily blacked out from the pain. Ann still had the gun trained on Pete, as if ready to make a second assault.
"NO ANN! Don't do it. Just put the gun down…please Ann, put it down…please." Vicki was pleading with her sister, and at the same time, fearing for the policeman's life. She knew of the hatred that her sister had been harboring for five years; not just hatred toward anyone that stood for law and order, but a particular hatred for the man sitting next to her.
Letting out a long held breath, Vicki watched as Ann slowly lowered the gun and looked at her, "Move one inch while I'm out of the room, little sister, and I'll waste the pig. Got it?"
Vicki nodded her head slowly and watched as Ann retreated to the other room, only to return moments later with a nearly full roll of duct tape. She taped Vicki's ankles together and then she taped her wrists together. "There, that ought to do it."
Pete moaned and both women looked at him. "Ann, he needs a doctor. Call an ambulance, please Ann."
"Nope; can't do that. He's gotta suffer, just like Daddy did." Ann was looking at her fingernails, as if contemplating what color to paint them.
"Ann, don't be stupid. He's still alive and if you get him some medical attention, while it'll still do some good, the courts may have a bit of leniency on you." Vicki pleaded.
"Courts? What courts? Do you really think that I am going to stand trial for any of this; especially when it's not even my fault!" Ann's voice took on a chilling manner that sent shivers up and down Vicki's spine.
Trying to remain calm, Vicki was pretty sure that she wasn't dealing with her sister, and that she was dealing with one of her sister's alter egos; only she wasn't sure which one, so Vicki switched tactics and decided not to argue any more just yet. She had to know which angle to argue, and she knew that her sisters' alter ego would identify herself shortly if she just remained quiet. She sat, studying Ann's face carefully, not saying anything for a moment.
"What, little Sis? Out of wisdom and advice for your big sister? That's a first!" The sarcasm dripping from her words let Vicki know that she indeed was not dealing with her sister, Ann, she was dealing with Angie, the meanest and most hateful of Ann's alter egos.
"No, it's just that I know I'm not talking to Ann…I know that I am talking to Angie or Angela, I just don't know which one. Which one was it that orchestrated this little fiasco?" Vicki's question was very matter of fact as she continued to hold her sister's glare.
Pete, who had fully opened his eyes, was regarding the two women with reserve; he still wasn't too sure that they weren't both a little on the crazy side.
"So…who is it that I'm talking to? Angie, or with Angela?" Vicki was shaking like a leaf in a windstorm, but somehow managed to keep her voice calm and quiver free as she spoke.
Pete tried to sit up a little straighter and elicited another small moan, briefly turning the women's' attention toward him.
"Well, well, well…nice of you to come back to us Officer Malloy. Care to join our little discussion? By the way, how does your shoulder feel?" Ann reached out and ripped the duct tape off of his mouth as she trained the gun on Pete once again. Even though he was bound and injured, she figured him as a threat.
"Angie…or is it Angela? You can stop this whole thing right now. Just put that gun down and let your sister leave. She doesn't have anything to do with this. I can see to it that you get the help that you need, if you'll just let me." Pete was trying a bit of psychology on Ann.
"You dumb ass, haven't you been tuned in…my name is Ann, not Angie and certainly not Angela! I'm acting on my own; I don't need any multiple personalities to tell me what I need to do!" She was quickly becoming agitated at Pete.
It was Vicki's turn to try and defuse the situation. "Ann? You're not acting on your own…are you?" Is it possible that it's really Ann and NOT one of the alter egos that's doing this? She briefly pondered, and then once again she switched tactics based on that possibility.
"Ann, how long have you been off of your medication?" Vicki's voice was low toned and compassion filled. She'd used that tone of voice in the past when Ann had neglected her medications for too long. It usually calmed her sister down to a semi-rational level.
Bingo…the switch in tactics had the desired effect and Ann had lowered the gun and sat down on the edge of the coffee table, fiddling with Pete's gun as she spoke. "Two months; but it's okay, 'cause I don't really need those pills, you know. They don't really help much."
"Yeah, Ann; I know. You've told me that before. Why did you stop taking them? Were they making you feel sick, again?" Vicki's words were soothing Ann's agitation a little at a time.
"Uhm-huh; I just feel tired and groggy when I take them. I don't like feeling like that. It's kind of a bummer, you know?"
"Yeah, I know. Ann, can you take the tape off of my hands and let me help this man? His shoulder is bleeding pretty badly."
"I don't really think I should…he might try and get away…Angela wouldn't like that at all. She really likes him, you know." The last part was whispered, in a conspiring way.
"But Angela isn't in this conversation, Ann; you and I are, and we don't have to tell Angela…or Angie. It can be one of 'sisterly secrets'…you know, the kind we used to share when we were kids. Besides, you are clearly in charge of your own actions right now…I'm sure Angela wouldn't mind if you let me help him; especially if she's fond of him." Vicki could see that her words were giving Ann something to think about and continued, "Besides, he's not in any condition to try and escape…and, he's tied up." Vicki cast a hopeful glance at her sister and then took a quick look at Pete. He looked very pale and she could see that he was in a fair amount of pain.
Ann laid the gun down on the coffee table next to her and reached out to unbind Vicki's hands.
"Thank you, Ann. Can you get me something to use for a bandage, now? Please?" Vicki remained calm and continued to speak quietly to her sister. So far, things were going okay, though Vicki had no idea where this was all leading, or how long Ann's cooperation would hold out.
Picking up the gun, Ann got up and went into the other room, returning shortly with a washcloth and towel, which she handed to Vicki. It wasn't ideal, but it would do, Vicki figured. She turned towards Pete and used the washcloth as a bandage and then tied the towel around his shoulder as best as she could, in order to keep pressure on the wound and help slow the bleeding. Pete gave her a brief, yet thankful smile, careful not to verbalize any thoughts and break the spell of the moment, between the two sisters.
With Pete bandaged, Vicki decided to go out on a very thin limb, "Ann, you look tired, why don't you go in a lay down for a little bit. I'll keep an eye on him and make sure that he doesn't go anywhere. You can even tie my hands up again…if you think that you need to, that is."
"I am kind of tired…I probably should bind your wrists again, though. Angie wouldn't like if I left you untied. She can be sort of bitchy…but don't let her know that I said that." She picked up the duct tape and bound Vicki's wrists together again and then walked out of the room, leaving Vicki and Pete behind.
They sat quietly for several minutes, waiting to see if Ann would return. When she didn't, Pete whispered, "How'd you manage that?"
"Turn around and I'll try to untie you." Pete slowly twisted his upper torso so that Vicki could get to the ropes that held his wrists together. With her own wrists bound, it was difficult, but she was able to manipulate her fingers enough to unbind the ropes that held Pete's wrists. "In answer to your question, I've lived with her all of my life; I've gotten used to her…shall we say, 'non-medicated' habits. In case it escaped you, she suffers from having multiple personalities. There are three that we know of; Ann, who's sweet and nice, most of the time; Angie, who is downright mean and vengeful; and Angela, who is basically a nymphomaniac and uses her body to get what she wants. Which one did you fall for, Officer Malloy?"
Pete was caught off guard by her blatant question, as well as her accurate description of the three personalities that he had witnessed in the short time that he'd known Ann.
"Well?" She questioned. She had worked the ropes loose and Pete gingerly brought his arms back in front of him. He then undid the ropes around his ankles, and then unbound Vicki's wrists.
Choosing to avoid the personal part of the question, Pete said, "In answer to your question, I've witnessed all three of those personalities…I don't know why I didn't put the signs together and figure it out ahead of time. I guess for one thing, she uses the name Angie Green…not Greenfeld. I would have recognized that last name."
"Yeah, well, I'm sure that she, meaning Angie, didn't show her hand until she was good and ready. It'd be my guess that she's been planning this for some time and finally decided to execute her plan…as well as you, in the process. She's the dominant of the three, and as you saw for yourself, she's downright lethal."
Pete paused, regarding Vicki's words for a split second and realizing that she was right on the money with her assessment of the situation; he was probably lucky to be alive right now. "C'mon, let's get out of here." Pete stood up, a bit unsteady on his feet from the blood loss. Vicki reached out to steady him as they quietly made their way to the front door.
Just as Vicki reached out to unlock the door, they heard the cold, hard voice, "Don't even think about it, little sister." The hackles on Vicki's neck rose as she recognized the tone of voice coming from her sister's mouth; it was the voice of the meanest and most vengeful of her sister's alter egos; Angie.