Read American Devil Online

Authors: Oliver Stark

Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Police Procedural, #Crime, #Police, #Serial Murder Investigation, #Criminal Profilers

American Devil (44 page)

‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s not that kind of case. You can put pressure on investigations when there’s loose ends and shoddy work, but this one is tight. They’ve just got nothing to go on. They’re all out of leads.’
‘Except Redtop,’ she said.
‘No one believes Redtop has anything to do with Sebastian. Not since I saw Sebastian and it wasn’t the same guy.’
‘But you still think they are linked?’
‘I do, but what do I know?’
Denise went over to the door and opened it. Tom was still sitting on the seat, looking unwilling to move. ‘I think you underestimate yourself. Come on, let’s go out,’ she suggested.
Harper stood and followed Denise out of the door. At noon, the President would mention Senator Stanhope at a press conference. He would offer his sincere condolences and fiercely condemn the killings. He would promise every resource available for the brave professionals searching for this killer. Then he would stamp his fist on the lectern and look hard and serious into the camera.
Out on the street, Harper was expecting a cup of coffee and a doughnut, but Denise Levene had other plans. She took him to her car and stood with the door open. ‘I know that everyone thinks you’re off-beam about the kidnappings and Redtop but I believe you, Tom. And it’s the only possible link that hasn’t been exhausted, so we’ve got to find out as much as we can about Redtop.’
‘Can’t I sleep first?’ said Harper. ‘Deal with this tomorrow?’
‘You could try,’ said Denise. ‘But you’d just lie there and see dead bodies running around your head. What’s the attraction? Come on. We’ve got to get you back to the only link you’ve got with the killer and that’s East 126th Street.’
Chapter Seventy-Seven
East 126th Street
November 29, 7.15 p.m.
 
o patted Lucy’s hand. ‘The bath is ready. You take a bath and put on your dress, and I’ll cook us something nice.’
Lucy nodded. The hallucinations had faded and she felt almost normal after the water and the prospect of a bath, but she was trying hard to still appear weak. She had learned quickly that you had to humour Mo. It was the only way with him - he was like a great big kid. But she was excited about the bathroom, about being able to wash at leisure. Mo looked at her as she sat on the side of the bed. ‘You gotta be a good girl, okay?’
‘I’ll be good for you, Mo. I will be ever so good.’ It was no good just enjoying the freedom, she’d also been thinking through her escape plan. This was a real chance. She would be much quicker than Mo, she would have the element of surprise and her returning strength and balance would give her the advantage. He wouldn’t be expecting it.
She had seen that Mo kept his keys round his neck but she would need him to be out cold or disorientated for a moment. She stood up unsteadily, took her armful of shiny red gifts and took them into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. The room had no window so Mo knew it was safe. He retreated to the kitchen. He was going to make pasta for her - something more than tinned mince for his special princess.
Lucy searched the bathroom. She needed a knife or a club of some sort. She found a pair of nail scissors, but they were tiny. The blades were only an inch and a half. She found Maurice’s razor next. She unscrewed the cap and pulled out a razor blade. Her armory was placed on the white toilet lid. Then she found a can of deodorant. She wasn’t sure if that would do anything or not, but she put it with the scissors and blade. Then she got in the bath.
Lying in the deep bath, even in these circumstances, was a real pleasure. She felt as if she’d been lying in her own filth for a week, sweating unconscious all night and day. She lay in the bath thinking about what she needed to do. How to incapacitate him, take his keys and flee. She’d have to be braver than she’d ever been before.
She heard music coming from the kitchen. He would be off guard. Perhaps he would give her a knife to eat with, but it would be a blunt old thing. She picked up the scissors, turning them in her hand. Looking at them, considering what damage they could do.
When Lucy emerged from the bathroom, Mo let out a squeal of excitement. ‘Wow!’ he exclaimed. She looked fantastic. All in red with her hair done up and lipstick on. Like a real girlfriend.
‘Does it all fit?’
‘Just perfect, Mo. How do I look?’
‘Lovely, lovely, lovely,’ he said. He led her through to the kitchen/living room. There was a small Formica table set for two, two chairs and music playing in the background. Mo pulled her seat back and Lucy sat.
All through dinner as they talked, Lucy was calculating, trying to identify the right time for her escape. When they’d eaten, Mo stood up and gestured to her with his hands.
‘What do you want, Maurice?’
‘Will you dance with me?’ he asked.
Lucy stood up and joined him in the middle of the stark room in the dilapidated building, swaying to the music. It was beyond strange.
Maurice leaned his head on Lucy’s shoulder and said, ‘You smell pretty.’
Lucy took his head in her hands. ‘You look real nice too, Maurice. Close your eyes.’ Maurice closed his eyes and turned his face to hers. She stroked his cheek. ‘You’ve been real good to me, Mo. I want to reward you. Would you like that?’
Mo nodded as her finger moved across his lip. Her right hand moved inside her top and found the nail scissors. She withdrew them. Her plan was to plant them firmly in one eye. The shock might be enough to topple him. She was holding them in her fist when a violent knocking broke into the room. Someone was hammering on the door. Lucy quickly hid the scissors. Mo stopped, paralysed. He knew who it was. It was the police, come to get him and take him away. He quickly took Lucy and pushed her into the bedroom. ‘It’s the police, Lucy. They’ve been following me and now they’ve come to get me.’ He was shaking all over as the knocking continued. ‘I won’t ever answer.’
‘You’ve got to answer,’ Lucy pleaded from the bedroom door. ‘I’ll tell them that you were looking after me. They just want to help.’
Mo looked at Lucy. ‘Would you?’
She nodded and stepped back into the bedroom. The knocking continued. Mo moved to the door. His hands were shaking as he opened each lock.
The door opened. Lucy was confused. It wasn’t a cop.
A tall, wild-eyed figure stood in the doorway covered in dirt and shit. Mo stared at him, his hands shaking.
‘What the fuck kept you?’ Sebastian shouted, staring at Mo in disgust.
‘Sorry, Nick,’ said Mo and lowered his eyes to the floor.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
East 126th Street
November 29, 8.15 p.m.
 
S
ebastian looked at the girl in the red dress standing in the doorway to the bedroom, staring out with hope in her eyes. ‘I see you took another girl, Mo. What did I tell you? What the hell did I tell you?’
‘Don’t take no more girls,’ said Mo.
‘That’s right, and what the hell did you do?’
‘I couldn’t help it.’
‘I should kick your ass for this, Mo. You’re a fucking liability.’
‘I kept her all nice,’ said Maurice. ‘Better than Lottie. I gave this one water too. Kept her alive.’
‘Good, Mo, real good.’
Sebastian walked in, walked over to Lucy and hit her hard across the jaw. She fell backwards and Sebastian shut the bedroom door. ‘Speak to me, Maurice. What the fuck is going on?’ Sebastian looked around the dilapidated apartment. ‘What are you doing in here? What’s with the music?’
‘Nothing, Nick. Ain’t nothing.’
Sebastian shoved past Maurice and took a drink of water from the tap. ‘What’s been going on?’
‘The police have been following me, Nick. I had to stay away for two days.’
Sebastian stopped dead. ‘Cops have been here?’
‘They were waiting up and down the street, but then today they left and I got in again. Lucy’s medicine had worn off and she was okay. She looks better now, Nick.’
‘How did the police find you?’
‘I don’t know.’
Sebastian sat at the kitchen table. He thought for a moment. ‘Listen, Mo, this is what you need to do. We got to get the girl out of here right now. I want you to go back to Benny and borrow his van again. We’ve got to take her upstate. You remember the farm. We can use the farm, can’t we? Bring the van back here soon as you can. You understand?’
‘You not going to hurt her, are you, Nicky?’
‘Course I’m not, Mo.’
Mo nodded gratefully and headed for the door. ‘Soon as I can, Nick, I promise.’ Then he was gone.
Chapter Seventy-Nine
7-Eleven
November 29, 8.45 p.m.
 
H
arper arrived back at Benny Marconi’s store with Denise Levene, having stopped only to take a quick shower at the station. They made quite the investigating couple - a demoted ex-Homicide cop with a suspension hanging over his record and a psychotherapist with a family background in crime and a yearning to be a profiler.
‘I’m going in,’ said Harper. ‘I want to see if I can get anything from Mr Marconi. We can hang around East 126th Street all night, but this guy knows something.’
‘He didn’t give you much before, did he?’ said Denise.
‘I brought a couple of crime scene pictures to see if I can’t jog his memory.’ Harper got out of the car, walked across the street and pulled open the door. Benny Marconi appeared immediately from an aisle, holding a price gun. ‘What a great surprise. I kinda knew you wouldn’t leave this fucking guy alone.’
‘Has he been back?’ said Harper.
‘I don’t keep a close enough eye on his movements.’
‘He hasn’t shown up for work, has he?’
‘No. Not with you clowns on his tail.’
‘Just let me know - does he ever alter his routine? That’s all I want. You’d notice, right, if he did something different?’
‘I ain’t got nothing to say.’
‘I know that, but just nod or something. Does he ever change the routine?’
Benny stood dead still. ‘You going to get that warrant you promised or just waste your time? I’m not in this conversation. You’re ruining my fucking reputation sitting on the door like that.’
‘Hey, I’m just hoping you care about people getting killed. They’re getting fucking cut to pieces.’ Harper threw three photographs across the counter. ‘Look at what he’s done!’
‘I keep myself to myself.’
‘Damn you! Look at these women. Look at the pain they went through. You not interested even if this guy is murdering local girls? What if he goes for one of your family, someone you know?’
‘Hey, this killer takes rich girls, no skin off me. And Redtop, well, he’s no murderer, trust me, he’s gentle as a puppy.’
‘Tell me about his movements. Where is he now? I know that you know.’
‘Get out of here. I’m not no piece-of-shit informant.’
‘He rapes them, you know that?’ Harper watched Benny’s expression change. ‘He tortures them real slowly - you want that on your conscience?’
‘Not Redtop. You’re chasing the wrong guy. You need an arrest, he’ll do. Just cos he’s slow. It ain’t justice.’
‘Mr Marconi, the killer pushed a knife into a young girl sixty-four times. Small, slow, shallow cuts so she wouldn’t die. Sixty-four times, Mr Marconi. Is that not worth your attention?’ Harper looked, but Benny Marconi wasn’t going to talk. Harper turned to leave. As he stood in the open doorway, he noticed the van was missing from the kerb. A thought ticked like a second hand in his mind.
‘Your van got towed?’
‘No, it got fixed.’
‘Where is it?’
Benny Marconi turned away from Harper. ‘I don’t know.’
Harper moved across the store quick and grabbed Benny before he had a chance to pull the Beretta from his waistband. He threw him hard against the wall and jammed his forearm into his neck. ‘I’m gonna kill you, that’s all I’m gonna say,’ whispered Harper.
‘Redtop takes it, sometimes,’ gasped Benny. ‘He goes to the Bronx. Yeah, he drives it to get stuff from the food market.’
‘How long is he gone?’
‘I’m not saying anything. You understand? This is not happening.’
‘I understand.’
‘I let him take the van. Kind of a favour. He works for peanuts. Least I can do.’
Harper froze like someone had hit him. ‘You gave him the van? He’s got it now?’
‘Yeah. Took it twenty minutes ago.’
‘Thank you, Mr Marconi, you’ve been a great help. Shit.’ Harper ran out of the door and straight across the street at speed. He reached Denise Levene’s small car and yanked open the door. ‘Drive. Get going. We need to get to East 126th Street.’
She looked across at him.
‘No questions, just drive! I’ve got to get on to Eddie and the department. We should’ve checked this out. We missed it. We fucking missed the van. He’s going to try to take Lucy somewhere tonight.’
Chapter Eighty
East 126th Street
November 29, 8.50 p.m.
 
A
fter Maurice left, Sebastian went through to the bathroom and ran the water in the bath. He started taking off his clothes. Lucy was still out cold from the blow he’d given her. He was furious with Mo.
‘You’re going to get yourself fucking caught, Sebastian. The cops are going to find you easy, if Mo keeps taking girls. Why can’t he get himself a fucking dog? What’s wrong with a dog? He should get a dog if he wants something to stroke. For fuck’s sake. Get a dog and leave these girls alone.’
His hands took the bar of soap and tried to get a lather under the running tap. ‘What a fucking place this is! It’s a shithole. It’s a shithole and it stinks.’
Mud and shit ran brown and black around the porcelain and into the drain. Sebastian looked at himself in the mirror. He looked pale. He hadn’t eaten much in days.
He came back into the bedroom, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. He looked again at the girl. She was a problem.

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