Crimson Pt. 07

The house appeared to be a furnished rental. Nothing in the way of personal items existed. The paintings on the wall were generic, mostly landscapes. There were no pictures of family or anything else that would lead me to believe someone lived here. I stepped through to the kitchen. Takeout containers littered the counter, and I recognized them from a local Italian restaurant. There were a few dishes in the sink, and the small table had some dirty glasses and empty beer bottles scattered around it.

The hallway led to the bedrooms and the bathroom. It was even darker than the living room, so I turned on my flashlight. I didn't want to turn on the lights just yet and contaminate any fingerprints on the switches. I noticed a few dark smudges on the walls, but couldn't make out yet what they were. It looked like the house had three bedrooms lining the hall, with one bathroom. What must be the master bedroom was at the end of the hall, with the door open.

As I passed each bedroom, I checked in each. They furnished the rooms almost identically, comprising a bed, nightstand, and dresser, with one reach in closet. Again, the decorations were generic, nothing pointing to any personal items.

After clearing both bedrooms and the bathroom, I proceeded to the main bedroom. As I stepped up to the door, I noticed a pool of vomit on the carpet. It appears what I witnessed on the porch was William getting sick for the second time this morning. I carefully stepped over it, and I saw what made William react the way he did. Splayed out on the bed was Allison, the same woman I saw two days prior with Angel, dead. The curtains in the bedroom were opened slightly, allowing a little light inside. What that didn't illuminate, my flashlight did.

I wouldn't need to check for a pulse; she was obviously deceased. Allison lay naked, her arms and legs spread wide. Her body was covered with marks, both small and large, appearing to be cuts. Some looked shallow, others deeper. I saw a few indications of the onset of bruising, but she was probably not alive long enough for them to set in. Her eyes were wide open, staring up at the ceiling. I always hated that. It was like they saw something I couldn't.

I took out my phone and called it in. Walking back through the house, I tried to stay close to where I had walked before. My presence, along with William's, contaminated the scene, and I tried to minimize it as much as I could. When I arrived back outside, Jordan had William sitting on the front steps.

"Is he feeling better?" I asked as I walked up next to Jordan.

"It seems." Jordan answered. "What did you find?"

"It's Allison." I replied. "She's deceased. Someone really did a number on her."

"Oh my God." Jordan remarked, glancing back at the front door as if attempting to peer inside. "Who would do that?"

"That is a great question." I remarked, walking down the stairs to stand in front of William. "You asked me when we arrived why he would do that? Who were you referring to?"

"I only met him last night when I dropped off Allison." William replied. "His name was Angel."

"Who told you to bring Allison here?" I asked, knowing the answer. I could barely keep my anger in check after I heard the name Angel.

"Reggie." William confirmed. "Reggie wanted me to drop Allison off, then pick her up this morning. When I arrived and knocked, I didn't receive an answer. I tried the front door, and it was unlocked, so I called out to anyone in the house, but heard nothing. That's when I walked in and found Allison. I ran back outside and called you, then thought that maybe Allison was still alive. In my panic, my head told me I just left her there and needed to save her. I went back inside, but no, I could tell she was dead. I don't know what I was thinking. My mind was racing. My God, why would someone do that? I saw all the cuts. What sick fucker does that?"

"Calm down, William. There have always been monsters in this world." I replied, calming myself down enough to continue questioning William. "Did you see anyone around when you arrived, or noticed anything that would stand out?"

"You mean besides Allison?" William responded, looking up and finally making eye contact. "When I drove up, the street was deserted. It's was still early, so no one was around yet. The house was dark, but when I tried to turn on a light, it didn't work. If the bedroom curtains weren't open a little, I may not have seen her. I will never get that sight out of my head. That was absolutely horrible."

I told William to sit there and relax. A few moments later, the first squad car pulled up, followed a few minutes later by the emergency rescue teams, and finally the crime scene van. I had the uniforms put crime tape around the front porch and stationed someone in the front and back of the house. I told the crime scene techs that the lights didn't work, so they had to provide their own lights, and under no circumstances try to turn on any breakers.

On a hunch, I called up the bomb disposal team and had them do a once over. It was a good thing I did. They came out with a box full of lightbulbs. It was as I expected. I recalled reading about a crime scene in Europe where someone booby-trapped the house with explosive bulbs. All the lights were turned on, and if someone flipped the breaker, all of those small bombs would go off at once, injuring anyone close by. Sure, they wouldn't be enough to kill someone, but it would cause some havoc. It might also start a fire, destroying any evidence in the house.

I didn't think that was the intention. Starting a fire before anyone showed up would have been a better way of going about it. No, Angel wanted to fuck with us. Why, I did not know. We would need to question William further. I would also need to talk with Reggie. Before I gave him a piece of my mind, I would need to get some information from him.

After the crime scene techs were done with the main room, and the coroner did his job, I walked back inside with Jordan to start our investigation. This time, there were enough lights in the house to see clearly. The crime scene team positioned stand lights around the house, powered by a generator in the front yard. The house was clear of explosives, but that meant there were no longer any lightbulbs in the fixtures. They focused two lights in the main bedroom on Allison, making her skin almost pale.

Some of that came from blood loss. Under her, covering most of the sheet and mattress, was a huge blood stain. Angel did not make these cuts post mortem; Allison was still alive when they occurred. I noticed ligature marks on her wrists and ankles, explaining how Angel could keep her in place during her torture. Her breasts held at least twenty wounds, all long slices, along the top and sides. Other cuts were horizontal and vertical on her stomach and legs. A few were up and down her arms, but not many. No, Angel concentrated on her torso.

Her vagina was not spared. I counted around ten wounds along her inner thighs, running to her labia. Her entire vaginal area was swollen, and I saw more evidence of the onset of bruising. I had a tech roll her onto her side, and her back was clear of any injuries or wounds. Angel did all of his work while she was tied on her back. Most of her wounds, at least three-quarters, centered on her breasts and vagina. Later, when I described the scene to Peter, he gave me the type of sadist Angel was: a lust murderer.

It wasn't enough for Angel to kill Allison. He had a compulsion to act out his fantasies with her, and with her body. Peter categorized Angel as an organized murder. He took the time to set up the kill, booby trap the house, and get away before anyone knew what he had done. There was a slight chance he was disorganized, but Peter doubted it. Everything was just too clean, and Peter informed me that this was probably not the first time Angel killed in this manner.

Either way, Angel had a genuine hatred of women. Peter's diagnosis was that somewhere in his past life, Angel must have been humiliated by a woman, or women, that set him on this path. This probably reached a point where he didn't see women as people, but as objects, to dominate and kill. This is a sport to him, and he probably doesn't feel remorse. In fact, he may feel that they don't deserve to live, or he's killing the object of his hatred over and over to rid himself of that humiliation. Most times, it's the murder's mother, but it may also be another important female figure in their lives.

Jordan and I finished collecting evidence and taking notes. Murder wasn't anything new to either of us, but this was just gruesome. I could tell it shook Jordan, both by how brutal it was, and also how Crimson has put her in the sights of abusive men in the past. As we started our drive to Reggie's office, my next stop, I assured Jordan I would never allow her to be put in a similar position again. I would kill anyone who tried. She looked at me, smiled, but spent the rest of the drive in silence.

As we drove to Reggie's office, Allison's murder was just hitting the news. Her parents were interviewed, and I hoped the police notified the parents before the press got to them. It was a comment made by her mother that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. She told the reporter that Allison had been working at the casino, and she suspected Allison was a call girl. Oh boy, that would open a can of worms that would be hard to close.

We arrived in Reggie's office less than an hour later. As we walked in, Reggie had a group of other lawyers and security he was finishing with. They all looked nervous, Reggie included. When he saw me walk in, Reggie motioned for the group to give us the room. After waiting for them to leave, I closed the door behind us. I took a seat, but out of habit, Jordan stood next to me in the waiting position. I told her there was no need for that, to sit down. Today, she was a police lieutenant and nothing more. She looked a little uncomfortable, glanced at Reggie, then sat down.

"How bad is it?" Reggie asked.

"Awful." I answered. "She wasn't just killed, but tortured. It must have been horrible for Allison, and I can't imagine what she must have gone through. I'm sure you've heard that Allison's mother pointed a finger at the casino. That's why I need to get some straight answers from you regarding Angel. I know you like to keep most things guarded, but I need to know who I'm dealing with."

"Sure, what do you need to know?" Reggie replied, lowering his head.

"What exactly did you and Angel discuss when you met with him?" I inquired. Both Jordan and I took out our notepads and started writing.

"Like I told you previously, Angel wanted to find investments here in the city and Crystal Lakes." Reggie explained. "He thought the businesses that would be drawn to town when Burkhart Shipping opens their new regional hub would be a good place to start. We talked about that and his desire to join Crimson"

"Reggie, come on." I chastised him. "I know better than that. You talked about far more than just his business and Crimson. You always question people, and I know you know most people have ulterior motives. What did Angel want to know? What was he most interested in?"

"He had a great deal of questions regarding Rich Burkhart." Reggie admitted, after pausing for a few moments. After finally looking up and making eye contact, he continued. "He seemed very interested in every detail I could give him about Burkhart. It wasn't just business. Angel asked about Rich's wives, his house, and my contracts with him."

"You didn't give him any information, did you?" I inquired, breaking in and cutting Reggie off.

"Look, Angel appeared legitimate." Reggie remarked, attempting to justify his actions. "He said all the right things, and didn't give me the impression he was anything other than who he claimed to be."

"Bullshit." I shot back. "Reggie, you are probably the best judge of character of anyone I know. You saw exactly who Angel was, but getting his money overruled it. I told you my opinion of Angel, yet you still sent Allison to him. You delivered that girl on a silver platter to that psycho, and for what, $50 thousand dollars?"

"Fuck you, James." Reggie shot back, his anger building. "I have to run a business. You sit there and pass judgement on me, but don't understand what it takes to keep everything afloat. Who do you think pays your salary, and that of your new family? I told you we were cash poor, but I bet you still expected your pay? Where do you think that comes from?"

"So, sacrificing a few women like Allison is justified so long as the money continues to come in?" I retorted. "That's where we diverge. I told you, I'm good with someone dying, so long as there is a benefit. Allison's dying held no benefit. There is zero chance you ever see any money from him. Did you even get the $50 thousand?"

"No, the transfer didn't go through." Reggie admitted, his anger ebbing, and looking down at his desk again.

"No benefit." I repeated. "Dammit, Reggie! This is a mess. I can't sweep this under the rug. The press has this. Her mother mentioned the casino and call girl in the same breath, and the public will eat this up. This will become soon become untenable."

"What the hell do you expect me to do?" Reggie asked, sounding flustered, his anger up again. "I'm sorry Allison died like that, but let's not pretend this is the worst thing I've done. I've had plenty of people killed, men and women. Allison was just one woman. Let's not make her into something bigger than she was. We'll get past this and move on. I'll handle anything that comes my way."

"You remember asking me to protect you from any danger that I perceive?" I replied. "Well, I see plenty of danger."

"No shit." Reggie shot back, cutting me off. "A blind man can see that."

"No, dammit." I exclaimed, leaning forward. "The danger is you. Your actions are putting the rest of us in the line of fire. In your desperation for money, you probably fucked us all."

"James, I'm losing my patience." Reggie angrily fired back. "Watch your tone. I've killed people for less than that. I benefit from your service, but that doesn't mean I can't get someone else to do it. I've survived years before you, and I'll survive after you."

"I doubt that." I answered. "You can't seem to keep yourself out of trouble. They raided our chapter, members disappear or were killed, money was stolen, and now one of your women is dead and all over the news. The press has the story that an escort service is linked to the casino, and you're acting like it's no big deal. You're in denial, or have lost your damn mind!"

"Get the hell out of my office." Reggie yelled, standing up from his chair. "I don't give a shit about what you think. I brought you into Crimson, and dammit, I'll fucking take you out."

I stood up, followed by Jordan. She looked horrified. Reggie reached forward toward his desk drawer, which I knew contained a small revolver. I flipped my suit coat to the side, exposing my holster, and unclipped my weapon. Reggie saw me do that and stopped.

"So, will you kill me like you did Liam?" He remarked, looking angry.

"That's not my plan." I answered. "I'll say this, however. I will protect my family. I will not take the fall for Crimson, and if I sense anyone is making a move on us, I will act. At the onset of our agreement, I said that I will not hesitate to burn this entire thing to the ground if I need to. Now, do nothing idiotic until we get a handle on this. If you're smart, you'll take a vacation somewhere the press won't easily find you."

Reggie stood there, looking less angry, but more disgusted than anything else. "Just get out of here before I have my security kick you out."

I motioned to Jordan to leave, and she turned toward the door and started walking. I turned sideways, just enough to walk out the door and keep my eye on Reggie as I did. There was no chance I was turning my back on him.

I was harder on Reggie than I needed to be, but damn, he pissed me off. He ignored my warnings and did what he wanted. Reggie didn't value my opinion. Hell, he probably didn't even want it. Sure, he liked the fact I kept Crimson out of trouble twice, but I realized I was nothing more than a cop on his payroll. As I drove my car out of the city toward Crystal Lakes, I knew my outburst had put a bullseye on me and my family.

I called Brenda and told her to get Peter and meet us at the house. I knew Reggie. He had no intention of taking a vacation. I was certain he was on the phone, planning to cover his ass. Fifteen minutes later, I received confirmation. Captain Evans called and told me to report to him at the precinct later that afternoon, and to bring Jordan. The Captain never had us report to the precinct. In fact, he told me I worked for Reggie, and my entire focus was the casino and Crimson. Reggie was probably trying to pin this shit on me.

I called Brenda immediately and asked if she had left yet. She had just driven away and told me the back of the casino was a beehive of activity. Security was busy running around, and Brenda noticed the women from the farm were brought up and taken back to the loading bay. They were moving them. At least I hoped they were just moving them. The next thing they would do is to seal the farm. From the control room, they would disable the elevator from going below the first floor. Since the only way down were the elevators, no one would know the farm existed.

I told Brenda and Peter to not go to the house, but meet us in a nearby town. We met an hour later at a car dealership. It was one of those that sold older cars at high prices, and do all of their finances in the house. I had everyone send money to an account I set up the previous month for just this purpose. Once we all sent most of what we had, the balance totaled almost $400 thousand dollars. That was enough to get new identities and a fresh start somewhere new.

The first order of business was to buy two new cars that no one else could link to us. I paid in cash, a little too much, but we were in a hurry. I had the cars put under Jordan's maiden name. That wouldn't stop them from finding us, but may slow them down enough until we could make our next move.

"How the hell would Reggie pin Allison's death on you?" Brenda asked as we were moving out things from our old cars into the new ones.

"Easy." I answered, throwing my police gear into the back of one car. "My name is all over the files. I'm in charge of the budget for the farm. Everyone that's associated with Crimson answers to me. Remember, I'm second, right behind Reggie. All he has to do is take his name off of everything and claim he knew nothing. He has Captain Evans to back him up, and it's not like I made friends with the other VIP members. Hell, I threatened to kill them if they crossed me. Looking back, he probably wanted me as his second, so I could take the fall one day."

"He doesn't have to pin the murder on me." I continued explained. "That will be pushed to the second page of the news when it's revealed that I ran an escort service out of the casino, blackmailing women along the way. They'll put up a few other men as scapegoats, whom the police will kill when those men resist arrest. I'll be the last one standing, and the person holding the bag. The trial will be a national sensation, and I'll be convicted, probably sentenced to life in prison. From there, they will have me institutionalized for a mental breakdown, then chemically lobotomized. After years in that state, they will kill me in my sleep."

"How do you know all of this?" Peter asked. "That sounds very specific."

"That's how Reggie gets rid of people that get in his way." I replied. "He gave me a glimpse behind the curtain, and believe me when I say it wasn't pretty. He told me he's done this to more people than he cares to count. This awaits you and I, Peter, if they don't kill you outright."