Tracking Evil, a Podcast Pt. 14

Authors note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Tracking Evil, a Podcast - Part 14

Chapter One: "Nothing is easier than to denounce the evildoer; nothing is more difficult than to understand him. - Fyodor Dostoevsky"

There was a certain amount of trepidation in Erica as she pulled up into the main parking lot of the abandoned 'Storage4All' depot. A failed start up that had left a few score storage lock up's abandoned and in the control of a bank. Sondra had a 'friend' who had given her access to the site. Isolated but with the built-in security of twelve-foot-high chain link fences, lockable roller doors on the units and an antiquated closed circuit monitoring system that Victor had been able to bring back to life, it made an ideal place to regroup and to store a prisoner.

Her trepidation wasn't about coming face to face with the man who had organised Arlene's 'warning', a killer they had dubbed 'The Hockey Fan'. No, Erica was nervous about the two women who waited on her to get out of her vehicle, both tapping a foot in a mixture of impatience and annoyance.

"Hey guys," Erica said as she closed the door behind her.

"Fuck me, she's alive!" Sondra said in mock astonishment to Arlene.

"Be fair Sondra, we knew she was alive. Had to be alive in order to tell us she was too busy to help out," Arlene said by way of a rejoinder.

"Cut me a break, will you? I was working my own thing and I'm not exactly indispensable when it comes to taking down killers. You had your bounty hunter pal for that." Erica did feel guilty, but she knew if she showed any weakness then Sondra and Arlene would eat her alive. There wasn't time for recriminations. They were too close to bringing down Butterman, The Graffiti Killer, to get sidetracked now.

Arlene stepped close to Erica, pulling the younger woman into a tight squeeze.

"You ARE indispensable to me, don't forget that. I was worried," Arlene whispered the words, the message soft, the tone hard.

"Sorry," Erica said, simple and sufficient for the now.

"Let me in on this bitches," Sondra said, dragging the two women into her own arms to complete the hug.

Erica had her arm around Arlene's waist and she half cried, half laughed at the emotion that lay so thickly on their partnership. There two women were closer now to her than family, rock solid pillars in her life, anchors in the storm that had tossed her mind and emotions into a fragile state. She gave both Sondra and Arlene a tear dampened kiss on their cheeks.

"You did it guys, you got him."

"Slice of pie," Sondra said grinning, Erica quirking an eyebrow at that before reasoning it was probably some reference to Denisa.

"The next bit won't be," Arlene said, dampening the mood at once. She looked at Erica, a level no-nonsense gaze that the young reporter matched. "You ready for this Erica?"

"No, but when has that ever stopped us? Where are you keeping him?"

"Lucky number seven," Sondra answered. "Got it set up with a couple of chairs, he's cuffed and shackled to the floor."

Erica had already begun walking towards storage unit seven and the others had to jog a few yards to catch her up.

"What's the plan then?" This from Arlene.

"I go in alone, no arguments," Erica answered. She didn't get any but she did notice the looks exchanged by Arlene and Sondra.

Outside the unit, Victor and Trent were in quiet discussion beside a large SUV. Lying on the bonnet, fiddling with her phone was Denisa, a Romanian born bounty hunter who had been drawn into their orbit as Arlene and Sondra had used her father's connections to help track down Adin Hodzik, The Hockey Fan.

Erica gave Victor and Trent a hug apiece before turning to face the door into the storage unit. She left everything she owned outside, anything that he might use as a weapon or means of escape. That was alright, she didn't need her notes or a gun to deal with him. Everything she needed was in her head and there were plenty of guns just outside should the need arise. Arlene gave her one last hand squeeze before Erica opened the small door beside the loading entrance and stepped inside.

"I already said. She is too soft. You should let me interrogate him," Denisa said to no-one and everyone as she continued to be distracted by the social media on her phone.

"Soft? You've got no clue what that girl is capable of," Sondra whispered softly, adding in a louder voice that Denisa could hear clearly, "Shut your mouth Zoomer, go back to talking trash online." Sondra heard Denisa chuckle behind her, not in the least bit insulted by the black woman's curt reply. That was the last bit of chatter, even from Denisa, silence falling as they waited outside for Erica to meet with a killer.

<<0>>

A dim bulb glowed above the small lock up. The cement walls were bare now but the shadows of the shelving that had once lined three walls was still visible, screw holes, paint scrapings on the hard walls and floor. Her footsteps made a disquieting echo as Erica crossed from the door to the empty chair that had been left out for her. In the chair opposite was Adin Hodzik. He was wearing handcuffs, and these had in turn been attached to a simple steel chain that was secured to the floor via a staple plate fixed to the floor. Knowing Arlene to have been scrupulous in her preparation, Erica assumed the chair had been set just out of range of Hodzik should he lunge forward.

Erica shifted the chair a half foot towards him before sitting down on it. You don't show fear to a predator.

"Erica Anderson, a pleasure," Adin said. He looked dishevelled but unhurt. Arlene had kept her temper it seemed, refraining from beating on the man. Black hair flecked with grey, a square face, pug nose and a day's growth of beard. There was nothing remarkable about this man, in fact bland or forgettable would have been apt words to describe him. Erica had no doubt that he preferred it that way.

"Can I tell you something?" Erica spoke quickly, almost excitedly, like a child wanting to share some newly acquired knowledge or fact with a parent.

"Of course," Adin answered smoothly. He seemed calm although his fingers on his right hand twitched at times. The nicotine stains on his index and middle finger indicating the twitch was likely down to craving a cigarette rather than a display of nerves.

"There is a difference in reporters. Did you know that?" This time Erica didn't wait for his answer, continuing to talk as if it mattered nothing if he wanted to hear or not. The excited energy left her voice, marking it as a façade, instead her voice became more matter of fact, bored even.

"My father explained it to me. If I were one of those interviewers on TV, well I would have a different approach than if I were an investigative reporter for a newspaper. See the interviewer, no matter how well briefed, is still bound somewhat by the person he is interviewing. The interviewee, they hold a certain amount of leverage as to how well the story plays out. Are they engaged? Disengaged? Loquacious? Surly? Helpful? Friendly? All of that matters, all of those have a bearing on how the interview goes."

"And you want to know if I will be engaged or helpful, this de-", Adin was cut off by Erica leaning forward snapping her fingers in front of his face.

"I hadn't finished speaking," she said, no hint of anger just another fact to be expressed.

"My apologies," Adin tried to seem unfazed, but things weren't starting out as he'd imagined.

"Then you have an investigative reporter. For them, it doesn't matter about how charismatic an interviewee might be. They go in with facts, cold hard facts. They don't look to break down the person, they break down the situation instead, manage the scenario, chase the clues. Investigate."

Erica tailed off, patting down her pockets as if seeking something. Then without a word she left the room.

"Where are you going?" Adin called after her, receiving no answer. Erica returned a moment later, a single cigarette and a lighter in her hand. She tossed both into Adin's lap, returning to her seat and waiting until the killer had lit up before continuing.

"Let me tell you what an investigative reporter would make of all this," She began, "First, I break down the reason you'd want me here. You asked for me because Butterman told you something. Maybe he said I was soft? Weak? Malleable? You figured in a negotiation that you'd have a better chance against me than against my friends. Smart, yeah, makes sense." Erica tapped her fingers against the heel of her hand in a mocking, quiet applause.

"Next, an investigative reporter looks at the history, the facts, what things may color the current situation. This is what you do, what you've done for the people you work for. You take a situation, find the angles, fix the problems. I've seen your record. You make deals. You organise what needs to happen, use contacts, go-betweens. You set yourself up as the right hand for whatever boss you might have, unobtrusive, effective, anonymous. So right now, you are looking to make a deal, offer us some information, stall, drip feed us clues. Keep us talking long enough for your organisation to find you. To rescue you." Adin didn't react to Erica's appraisal, instead he just smoked, turning a head away to expel the fumes, drawing again so that his lungs filled up and his craving waned.

Erica sat patiently, waiting for him to finish his smoke, then she waited longer, till Adin finally spoke.

"All of that is very interesting, but you are telling me things I already know, there is no big 'reveal' here Ms. Anderson, no parlour trick that will make me believe you are omnipotent, more powerful than those I work for. Negotiation is in your best interest. There is always a middle ground, regardless of a situation, there is always an option that is mutually beneficial," he said. Erica nodded, accepting what he said to be true.

"You are basing your strategy on an assumption that everything Butterman told you about me is a fact. The reason you asked for me is because you have hope. Hope that you can get one over me in a deal, hope that by drawing things out this place will be discovered by your friends. That's a real possibility. But the problem is that you are thinking like a criminal, like a killer, assuming there's a way out. No, no, no, you've got that all wrong. Here. Now. You're a victim. Like all those innocents that you robbed, beat, killed, enslaved, tortured... they suffered at your hands knowing only hopelessness. So, take a minute, feel what they felt." Erica again paused, leaning back in the chair, closing her eyes as she relaxed in front of him. She didn't move again for a full minute.

"Am I supposed to cry now? Please, we are wasting both our time with this nonsense. Let's just be open and discuss what each of us hope to gain," Adin said finally, breaking the silence.

"No deal," Erica said simply.

"Excuse me? I think I misheard you," Adin blinked, caught by surprise for the first time.

"No deal," Erica enunciated slowly, "no need for one."

"So, you captured me, brought me all this way and now you'll kill me? That's a lot of wasted effort, why not kill me straight away. No, there is a deal to be struck and we both know it."

Erica yawned. She didn't have to force it. She was exhausted from her long drive and the physical activities that had proceeded it. The killer in front of her seemed less than pleased by her response though.

"Please, Mr Hodzik. You need to stop clinging to this false hope in your heart. It's not going to go that way for you. It'll be so much easier if you just accept the inevitable."

Adin looked baffled by Erica's approach. Where was the nervous untested would-be reporter he had expected? This woman looked completely at ease, totally in control. He obviously didn't like that reversal of roles.

"Maybe I should finish my lesson on doing a decent investigation. Last thing. There are always more players than just the interviewer and the interviewee. In your case there is the massive scary collection of serial killers that you work for."

"Girl, you wouldn't believe how powerful, how scary," Hodzik hissed, losing his composure at Erica's demeanour.

"Oh, I would. I read the files, fifty years' worth of them. I know enough that I can appreciate the horrors they are capable of."

"These men, they have no souls some of them. I might be a criminal, a murderer as you say, they, they are monsters," Adin said with real feeling.

"All the more reason for us to let you go then," Erica said brightly, standing up from where she sat opposite him.

"What? What do you mean?" Erica turned to face Adin who looked shocked at her casual attitude about setting him free.

"Well naturally you are, as you just admitted, a criminal. Anything you tell us will most likely be a lie. And by keeping you we invite your monster friends to attack us. So, we're going to let you go."

"That simple?" He looked unconvinced. Erica walked to stand inches from him, if he wished he could easily reach her, assault her. His chains jingled metallically but only because he shifted position, uncomfortable on his chair.

"Nothing is simple. You know that. No, we will let you go. In a very public place where I am sure more than one set of eyes from your group will be watching. It's all agreed, Arlene is even going to give you a hug goodbye. I am sure your friends will pick you up within minutes. I wonder what they will think as they watch a woman who is hunting them, who you supposedly had raped, give you a smile and a hug?"

"You bitch!" Adin snarled, tensing to attack. Erica didn't let the fear within her show on her face. Casually she backed away, contemptuously even.

"Now, now. No need for name calling," she chastised him with a wag of her finger.

"If you do that, they'll think I helped you. They'll kill me. They'll fucking kill me!" he snarled.

"Please, Adin. Be realistic. I'm quite sure they will torture and violate you for days or weeks first before ever they decide to kill you. These are monsters after all," Erica began walking to the exit. "Trust me, my friends wanted to kill you but I saved your life. Although I guess I really saved theirs, they shouldn't have your death, however well deserved, on their conscience. No, time for you to reap what you've sown, time for you to be on the receiving end of a lesson from monsters. Isn't that what you told Arlene before you had her raped? That this was a lesson? Well, this is your final lesson, you shouldn't have hurt my friend."

"Wait!" Adin barked, "you're bluffing, I know you are."

"Men, you are all the same. Can't believe a woman can be as ruthless as you... you don't get it do you? I'm not bluffing because I am not playing this fucked-up game of yours. There's no negotiation here Mr Fixer, no favours to be exchanged. You killed people, hurt my friend, helped people like Butterman kill hundreds more. You're going to die. Goodbye." Erica walked out the door, holding up a hand to still her friend's tongues, instead waiting near the door, counting off seconds to herself.

"COME BACK. MISS ANDERSON! MISS ANDERSON! COME BACK!" Adin shouted at the top of his voice, the walls and doors keeping most of it muffled.

"What did you say to him?" Denisa had sat up and was staring wide eyed at Erica. Erica winked at the Romanian teen, tapping the side of her nose. Then after a few more seconds she opened the door to the lock up, sticking her head inside but that was all. Through the open door her friends could hear the conversation.

"What do you want now?" Erica snapped irritably at Adin.

"Hope," he said quietly.

"What? Soap?" Erica cupped her ear as if to hear him better.

"HOPE! Give me hope and I'll give you Butterman," Adin pleaded. Erica walked back inside, letting the door close behind her.

Outside, Denisa looked at Arlene incredulously.

"Wondering how she did it are you?" Arlene asked.

"Yes. How? She is... she is not a fighter, not like you or Sondra. How?" Denisa slid off the bonnet of the SUV to stand beside Arlene.

"Simple. Hodzik knew everything about us, about Erica. He figured she was the one to strike a deal with. He's always made deals from a position of strength though, basically he's a bully. Then Erica shows him that the one he perceived as the weak link is anything but, she showed him nothing but contempt and most importantly she showed him that she doesn't need his help. He believed it because it's been Erica and that big brain of hers that's gotten us here. Hodzik knew that, he knew Erica's dedication to her friends and once she'd sold him on that, she'd sold him on everything else. Brains, not bullets." Arlene tapped her own head and then the butt of the gun in Denisa's waistband.

Denisa seemed to be considering that while they waited for Erica to come back outside.

<<0>>

"We've got a location," Erica explained after she finally left Adin to bring her companions up to speed. Arlene had pulled a map from the SUV's glove box and this was spread out now on the bonnet.

"Here," Erica said pointing on the map, "It's a safehouse operated by the Web, that's how they refer to their organisation. Basically, a shell company owns this warehouse complex, though if we had the time to dig into it, we might track it back to Henry Marks's company. He wouldn't confirm or deny that Marks is the head of the Web but that's a conversation for another time. He gave me enough information to stay alive a bit longer, I think he's hoping we die hitting the safehouse."

"Why do you think that?" Denisa asked this, craning forward to look at the map. Erica turned to face the young woman, looking at her from head to toe. She was dressed in army boots, figure hugging canvas pants and a black crop top with a heart shape missing in the front that showed a hint of cleavage. With her young face and dress sense, she looked anything but a bounty hunter.

"This isn't your fight," Erica said, still not a hundred percent sure as to Denisa's presence or loyalty.

"I owe Sondra... twice," Denisa said as the black woman raised two fingers towards her. Arlene grunted in affirmation and Erica let it drop, for the moment at least.

"He played down the numbers in the safe house, claimed just Butterman and maybe one other might be there. From other things he mentioned and the size of the building I think we could be looking at a lot more than that. Maybe not professional killers but experienced ones for sure."

"Isolated, a lot of the complex underground, at least going in guns blazing won't attract any attention," Trent murmured.

"True but you can't discount that there might be innocents in there, people taken by one or more of the killers using the safe house. They can't all be like Butterman or Elvin was, just killing people where they encountered them. I've done a lot of research on serial killers and there are as many shades and types to them as there are fish in the sea. You'll need to be careful, exercise restraint attacking there." This was from Victor, the young FBI agent and Erica's friend since they were young.

"Right," Arlene agreed.

"What do you mean 'you'll', don't you mean 'we'?" Sondra looked at Victor as she said this.

"I can't take part in this, I'm an FBI agent for Christs sake," Victor protested.

"It's okay Victor, we need someone to keep an eye on Adin anyway," Arlene said, "Someone who can take him in to custody if this does go badly."

Trent looked over the map, at the notes Erica had hastily written from Adin's information.