From the Devil's Cradle Ch. 01

From the Devil's Cradle Ch 1

All characters are at least eighteen years of age.

*

Caleb Sparks sat with his hands folded on the table, casually he rolling his right wrist forward away an inch or so from him glancing at his CASIO Rangeman wristwatch, 21:17 hours that evening. Caleb let out a small sigh, he'd been sitting here for almost eight full hours. His back was starting to feel the discomfort of the steel chair for so long, his legs restless from the metal pushing against them stifling the blood flow.

He stood sliding the chair back, the steel legs of the heavy chair, groaned across the poorly done brown ceramic tile on the floor. As always Caleb pushed the chair back under the table where it belong, turned and started stretching his arms toward the white generic tile ceiling, raising up and down on his toes forcing blood to flow to his extremities and rolling his shoulders.

He smiled to himself, cops had no idea how to get information from someone who was not simple of mind. He had none to give, but they couldn't get it if he did. Caleb had his back to the door bending over touching his toes when the door came flying open.

"Sit down. I said sit down!"

Caleb leisurely turned, slid the chair out as it groaned it's resistance on the ceramic tile once again. Once seated he scooted the chair back under the steel table, same as he had during meals as a child. Sitting properly at the table had been something his mother asked of her children.

In front of Caleb once again sat, Richard Carnes, lead homicide detective for the police department in Austin, Texas for this case. Richard was pushing fifty a survivor of two failed marriages. He had sharp steel gray eyes, to Caleb they looked more like the eyes of a predator than a cop.

Despite being close to fifty, Richard was not the stereotypical looking cop, round in the middle. Richard though a bachelor who worked long hours tried to eat right when he could and managed to jog most days.

"Mr. Sparks, where were you at between 15:00 and 22:00 hours Wednesday night the 7^th, Detective Carnes asked angrily?

"I've already answered that question, prior to you bringing me into the station," Caleb said.

"Answer it again!"

"No, I've answered your question."

"How did you know the victim, Johnathan White?"

"I answered that question when you first brought me into this room at 11:24 hours this morning," Caleb said.

Detective Carnes face was blood red, he'd been playing this game with the man in front of him most of the day. Once asked a question Sparks would answer it, but once and only once no matter how many times he asked or how many ways he phrased the question.

Carnes slammed his fist on the steel table, "you will answer questions as many times as I ask. Do you understand?"

"I've answered that question previously also."

Carnes wanted so bad to jump up and slap Caleb across the face. Two things kept him from it. Internal affairs had installed cameras in all the interrogation rooms only weeks ago. He also was not sure if help could get to him in time if he tried.

He knew little about Caleb Sparks. While he looked calm, docile as a lamb, he also looked like he could have torn the table in half. This in itself made Carnes suspicious of him, someone who could blend in, a man who would never look out of place anywhere and yet looked more dangerous than hardened killers Carnes had locked away.

To Detective Carnes, Caleb looked like a cheetah, quick and deadly yet also strong as an ox. He wore a long sleeve shirt with tan slacks, but the muscle underneath was evident. His eyes, calming yet sharp as any tack, with a warm carefree smile.

Carnes wondered about a few tiny scars he could see on Caleb's hands; they were old, but they could be scars from someone's fingernails. Maybe they had defended themselves from Caleb he thought.

Carnes had studied men for a long time, he could read them well, this helped make him the top detective for his department. His arrest record was impeccable. The F.B.I. had tried to recruit him many times due to his abilities. Caleb however was not readable; he was a blank slate and nothing Carnes had done seemed to alter that slate.

He could tell that within a few minutes of sitting down, Caleb had studied every inch of the room. His eyes moved slowly and casually as they had talked but had traveled the whole room floor to ceiling. Those not as trained as Richard was, would have never known Caleb had just surveilled the entire room.

Once he noticed how Caleb checked the room, Carnes had no doubt that he had studied the building as they passed through and entered the interrogation room. This could make him a high-end break and enter man; they were very detail oriented, though they usually avoided killing. The kind of men who stole expensive jewels, paintings and such. Those men almost always saw themselves as a Robin Hood.

What little he really knew about Caleb was in the thin folder he had in his hand, more accurately what anyone knew about Caleb was in that thin folder, a total of one printed out page. Caleb Sparks, thirty-six years old, single, six foot two, two hundred twenty-seven pounds according to the Department of Motor Vehicles. Brown hair, close cropped along with almost hypnotic brown eyes. Even Richard felt himself put off guard by Caleb's eyes.

Carnes' partner Jessica Mendez had looked at his photo and made the comment, 'women have to be standing in line to fall all over him.' Jessica had set out to canvas his neighborhood and his job to see if anyone had dated Caleb or knew who may have. 'Any man that sexy had to be dating,'" she'd told Carnes.

Sparks never had a problem with authorities not even a parking ticket. It was almost like Caleb Sparks was born just two years ago, to have made thirty-four years old and never had any type of record. He was a high school graduate, never appeared to have had a job, that was until two years ago he went to work for a local publishing company.

Only two known relatives, Mother Maria Ramos and sister Lupe. He did not look Hispanic to Carnes, he looked white as could be, yet his Birth certificate listed Maria Ramos and mother, no father listed.

His high school was three states over in Dalvin, Richard had detectives from Dalvin checking the school to see if anyone there still remembered him and if he had been any trouble. Jacobs, a junior detective under Carnes and former Air Force pilot, had already reported he'd been a football and baseball star, valedictorian, student council president, National Honor Society according to news articles for the school and that was it he vanished.

Caleb had a social security card, voters registration card, drivers license which he only appeared to have got the last two items, two years ago also. No military records, no other employment history, no tax records before two years ago, nothing. Seven hundred eighty-seven thousand, four hundred seven dollars and twelve cents in the bank. No cell phone bill yet he had a cell phone, Carnes had seen him pocket it at home. Only utility bills, although Carnes had noticed a laptop sitting on a desk in the living room, no internet bill.

It's like Caleb Sparks was born thirty-four years old officially. That was suspicious itself, much less his lack of a life period after that. If by chance Caleb was not who they were looking for, Richard made up his mind to find out just who Caleb Sparks was.

Carnes had noticed when he'd spoke with Caleb at his home, that everything was overly neat and in order, nothing out of place, not a speck of dust on any of the furniture. A bachelor's home that neat and tidy was odd at best. Maybe there was a housekeeper, if so, he paid cash. No bills in his name for that either. No car payment, apparently the Ford Raptor sitting in his driveway was paid for.

Carnes was hoping from this interview to gain something, anything that would convince a judge to sign a warrant to let them search Caleb's home and truck. So far nothing, Caleb had simply refused the request made at first meeting. Repeated requests got Caleb's standard answer, "I've already answered that question."

What struck Carnes oddest out of all of this, was from the time he walked up to him cutting his grass till this moment right now there had been no surprise registered from Caleb. There was no fear, no anger, no anxiety, no stuttering, no hesitation, no worry, no doubt, nothing. It was like the man had no emotions except one, of being pleasant and open. So pleasant that it was infuriating.

Carnes finally searching an opening again. "It says here that you work for Cooks Randomized Books Publishing."

Caleb sat for a second. "Is that a question or a statement Detective?"

The urge again to smack Caleb arose, he knew damn well it was a question.

"It's a fucking question!"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"One year, ten months and four days."

"You know exactly to the day, how long you have worked there," Carnes chuckled sarcastically?

"Yes and so do you. It's in the file in your hand."

"What did you do prior to taking the job with Randomized?"

"What does your file say," Caleb asked.

"It doesn't say a goddam...," Carnes felt he'd been trapped as soon as he went to answering questions. "What did you do," Carnes demanded!

"Detective Carnes, you pulled my life history, yes? No need to answer I know you did. You are the detective; you tell me what is missing from that file."

"I will tell you what's missing dammit. From eighteen to thirty-four you don't exist."

Caleb with that still friendly smile, "Yet here we are."

Caleb's cell phone vibrated, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket, tapped around on it.

"Give me that phone!"

Caleb handed the phone to Carnes.

"What's the damn pass code?"

Caleb just sat looking at Carnes.

What is the code, Carnes demanded again? Touching a button on the back the detective realized there was a fingerprint scanner on it. Without debating the outcome and against better judgement, he grabbed Caleb's right hand that was on the table. Carnes wasn't even sure how it all began to go bad, till he watched the playback of the video footage from the interrogation room the next day.

Caleb had moved like a cat, even appeared to be almost a blur on the video. Carnes had yanked Caleb's right hand toward him. In the process Caleb had came out of his seat, grabbing Carnes tie by the knot. In the blink of an eye, Carnes' head was against the table and he was being pulled across it by his tie.

Once across, Caleb had kicked the heavy steel table pushing it against the door. The table alone usually took two to three men to move. It was large and heavy to keep suspects from using it as a weapon, yet Caleb just kicked it across the floor and against the door like nothing.

It was about at that point Carnes' had an accurate account of what happened. Caleb had held his right hand out. My phone Detective if you please as calm and gentle as he had been all day. Carnes had placed it in his hand causing Caleb to release him sitting his feet on the floor. Caleb's expression had never changed during the event, just that warm pleasant smile.

Officers rushed from the viewing room as Caleb sat the steel chair upright and set himself down tapping on his phone and returning it to his pocket. They pushed the door open, the steel legs of the table screaming across the tile.

A detective making through the door first held a taser. "Get the fuck down now he screamed."

Carnes held up his hand. "Son you just assaulted a police officer," he said rubbing his neck.

"No, I just stopped a thief wearing a badge, which is exactly what that camera and audio will show the judge," Caleb said nodding toward the I.A. camera mounted in the ceiling. "One trying to search property without a warrant or permission."

"You handed me the phone Mr. Sparks."

"I did, yet you grabbed my person trying to make me unlock it. Same as if you had taken keys out of my pocket and opened my car without a warrant, entered my home and started searching without my approval or warrant."

Detective Mendez came in as a few officers straightened the table back in front of Caleb. "Why don't you get some coffee Rich," she asked Detective Carnes coming in the room?

Jessica sat down across the table from Caleb. His damn eyes she thought forcing herself to pull away from them.

"I'm sorry Detective Mendez," Caleb spoke first.

"Oh. Why is that?"

"That we met this way, I'd have asked you out had we bumped into one another in the gym or supermarket."

She could tell by his tone and speech pattern he was not just trying to get her off balance, his voice and damn eyes indicated he was sincere. "What gym do you go to Caleb?"

"I must confess I do not, I work out at home. It was more just a statement of admiration," he smiled.

"How do you know that camera records audio Caleb?"

"The spot under the red light is a mic receiver. The way it seems to be forgotten by Detective Carnes, I assume it's there either from your Internal Affairs or maybe a federal agency and installed recently."

Jessica nodded, the man in front of her was not your typical suspect.

"I've spent most of the day canvasing your neighborhood you know what I found?"

"That I keep to myself, help others when I see they need it without being asked and I am quite?"

Jessica laughed, "almost word for word."

She opened the file Carnes had left. "It says here your mother's name is Ramos."

"It was Detective."

"Was?"

"She is deceased."

"Oh, I'm..."

It's ok Detective Mendez.

"May I ask what happened."

"Police killed her."

"Oh... I'm sorry to hear that... I..."

"Not your fault Detective it was a long time ago, chances are you were in high school when it happened."

"Can I ask what happened? You don't have to answer that of course. I'm... Well sorry and just wondered."

"She was sitting at a diner with my sister, Lupe, two gang bangers ran in tweaked up and started firing. Lupe and my mother where hit along with five other patrons."

"It thought you said police killed your mother?"

"They did. The Detective in charge of negotiations refused to trade a car for medical treatment of those inside. My mother bled to death on the floor in that diner, corner said it probably took twenty minutes for her to bleed out as she held my sister to her. My sister died they said immediately from a gunshot to the head, Lupe was in the arms of my dying mother the whole time. They could have easily picked the bangers up a couple streets over had they given them the car. Lupe was eighteen."

Detective Mendez suppressed the tears welling up in her eyes and the lump in her throat. "I am sorry Caleb. You really do not look like your mother was Hispanic if I may say."

"I was adopted Detective."

"Oh... I'm sorry Caleb."

"No need to be. She was the best woman this world had known. Angels cried the day she was taken from this world."

Fighting the lump in her throat again "Do you own a handgun?"

"Yes."

"Yet none come back registered to you."

"This state does not require a citizen of the union to register firearms Detective."

"Would you mind if we test you for gunshot residue."

You'd find residue Detective.

Why?

"This morning at 07:13 hours I walked into Red's Range on highway 9 with my pistol and fired seven, nineteen round magazines, plus the one in the chamber for a total of 134 rounds, at targets. I reloaded the magazines and weapon then departed. I departed at 08:22 hours and headed home. Why would you want to test for GSR? The man in question, his cause of death is unknown according to Dick, there are no signs of any trauma, much less a gunshot wound."

Jessica laughed at his usage of Dick for Richard. "So if I go to Red's they will say you were there?"

"Unless they lie."

"Let me guess you paid cash."

"I did."

"So no physical record you were there."

"Other than the two security cameras in the parking lot that will show you, I arrived and departed. The one over the counter where I paid and the four on the range itself to monitor any misuse and handling of firearms..." "Or if you wish to tie your forensics team up, pulling all 9mm brass and check prints on them all you will surely find mine."

Jessica laughed. "You always notice cameras where you go?

"Don't you Detective?"

"So were you a cop or something at one time," Jessica tried that angle?

"No just and observant person. I did do a ride along with Dalvin P.D. when I was sixteen," he said smiling.

"What would you say is your best quality Caleb?"

"I'm patient."

She nodded, "So I stopped by your job today."

"I know detective my boss has sent several threatening text about my livelihood in the almost nine hours I've been here."

"Funny nobody I talked to today around your home or work seem to know of you dating anyone."

"I don't date just anyone Detective."

Jessica leaned back, "Yet you would have asked me out you said?"

Caleb nodded.

"So why me then? Or was it a ploy because I am a woman?"

"It' was no ploy detective, just an honest thought when I saw you today. You're attractive, fit, strong willed, independent, passionate about your work. I bet that bleeds over into your personal life, the passionate part. I would wager you date cops mainly and wonder why it's not returned in the way you give."

Jessica tried to hide the surprise she felt. He seemed to know almost as much about her as she did him. "I don't date men accused of murder Mr. Sparks."

"Oh I'm accused now of murder? Yet the cause of death is unknown. I've neither been arrested or read any rights. I remember voluntarily coming down here without cuffs."

"Touché Mr. Sparks, Touché. Poor choice of words on my part."

"Can I ask you something Detective Mendez since we are on official names again?"

Richard may have wanted to jump over the desk and smack him, she wanted to jump over the desk and kiss him. "Sure why not?"

"So can I see a picture of the alleged victim? I mean if that is what he is, a victim, since there were signs of trauma or foul play," as Dick said.

Jessica laughed that time. "He hates people using Dick for Richard."

"I wasn't," Caleb smiled which made Jessica laugh harder.

"Detective Carnes told you all of this?"

"He said it to another detective on the phone, while I was changing shoes to come here. My hometown detectives, sending them to my school. So why don't you tell me what you know about the alleged victim, I've told you what I know Detective? Which is nothing."

"Mr. White was found dead in his home reading your book. Not just one from the company you work at, but your book, the one you wrote. He also had posted several critical reviews or more like rants on your company website of your book."

"Yet how many times does Stephen King get brought down to a police station Detective Mendez? Dean Koonts? I'd wager never. So you find a dead man, no apparent cause. He owns my book so that is my motive because he wrote some random messages. Tell me Detective, did he own any other books? If so, did he post any other negative reviews? Did he order delivery and post any rantings about restaurants on their website? If so, are those authors or restaurant owners sitting in an interrogation room having their rights violated? Did he stop a McDonald's, the ice cream machine not work as usual? Is the clown being interrogated? Sounds like he may just have been a miserable man."

Jessica cleared her throat, this man in front of her was smart. "Nobody is violating your rights."

"Your partner tried."

"How do you know he's my partner?"

"You dismissed him too easily. Grant you this is an equal country, unlike many, but police departments are historically male dominated. He's old enough to be old school, which men like him, would normally prefer a male partner. That means he's comfortable with you and trusts you to handle me in his absence. Trust developed by a partner."