Vice Cop Ch. 11

But after all the celebration in the NYPD, Mason and Lexa were now both committed to the case of the murder of Reverend Victor Marshall. It was personal for Mason Holmes. He wanted to get to the bottom of things and get closure for Claire. Lexa had retrieved phone records from the Reverend's home in Park Avenue and was going over them with Mason in his office.

A careful search of phone records revealed that Victor had been calling a Swedish doctor a month prior to his murder. Mason spoke to the doctor, calling him from his office. His name was Dr. Bjorn Ekland, and Mason informed him that Victor had been killed and that the hunt for his murderer was currently active. The doctor, who spoke perfect English, albeit with a British accent, explained that Victor feared he had been poisoned somehow.

"Yes, I thought it was psychosomatic at first," Dr. Bjorn said, "perhaps he had seen so many cases of this first-hand and was under the paranoid delusion that he had been poisoned. He called me to make sure that it was not so. We went over every physical symptom and medical aspect but it turns out it was all in his head."

"So he really thought that someone had poisoned him? What exactly did he say?"

"He said he had the feeling someone was out to get him. He did not mention any name. He just said he was almost positive that he was being stalked and harassed. He would receive strange, anonymous phone calls in which the person did not say a word and hung up. He said he felt someone was trying to kill him."

Lexa, who had been listening on speaker phone, was taking notes.

"Thank you, Dr. Ekland," Mason said and hung up, "well, Lexa, we're making real progress. Victor was being stalked, and targeted. He had been sensing death."

"Do you think he had any idea who it was?"

"I get the feeling he did know."

"So who else should we call that you think we ought to talk to?" Lexa said.

"This number right here -- a Miss Madeline Cavanaugh. I recognize the area code."

"Yeah, me too. That's Manhattan."

"He called it a lot at one time. Look, and also he received calls from this same number several times at one time. But right around the time he was murdered, the calls seemed to have ended."

"Let me make the call," Lexa said, somewhat excitedly.

Mason smiled at her, got up and allowed her to sit down on his desk where the phone was.

"You're really getting the hang of this," he said to her, "you're doing damn good work."

"Thanks."

She dialed the number. There phone rang for some time but she held on to the receiver and waited for a response.

"Hello?" said a female voice on the other line, finally picking up.

"Evening, Miss, my name's Lexa O'Neil, I'm a detective with New York City Police. Is this Miss Madeline Cavanaugh?"

A familiar bell rang in Lexa's mind. The name sounded awfully familiar.

"Yes, this is she," she said, sounding somewhat nervous," what is this about?"

"Miss Cavanaugh, we are conducting a thorough investigation. Manhattan's Rev. Victor Marshall was murdered. His killer has not been found."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"We searched his phone records and your number came up a lot. Can you tell us what your business was with the Reverend?"

She was silent for some time, and only her breathing could be heard. Because Lexa had her on speaker phone for Mason to hear, her breathing seemed larger than normal. She sounded disturbed by the news.

"You don't know who I am?" she said, with pride.

"I intend to find out who you are and what your involvement with Reverend Marshall was all about," Lexa said matter-of-factly.

"You don't know who I am?" she said again, emphatically.

"All I know is that you're name is Madeline Cavanaugh and you live at --"

"I'm the prima ballerina of the American Ballet Theater. You must have some mistake."

So that's who she was. Lexa remembered how she had visited the ABT dance studio where she had first met this bitchy ballerina. Lexa took a deep breath and continued.

"It's not a mistake, and I wouldn't care if you were President Ronald Reagan. You are linked to Victor Marshall somehow. I have you on speaker phone, Miss Cavanaugh. I'm with my partner, Detective Mason Holmes, in his office at headquarters. You have to tell me everything."

"There is nothing to tell. I phoned him lots of times because we went to college together. We were very much in love and then he married and he broke it off. He didn't want my friendship, either, so he completely cut me off. He would attend some of my performances though, he and that wife of his."

"But the calls we found indicate you two were in touch even after he got married."

She was silent.

"Were you having an affair with him?"

She hung up forcefully.

"Well what do you think, Mason? Pretty suspicious reaction, don't you think?"

"She didn't react to the news of his murder. Everyone else I called said they were sorry to hear that, those who hadn't already heard that is. But not this girl. She was angry and defensive."

"A suspect in every sense."

"We need to get to her place pronto.".........

THIRTEEN

Night fell in Manhattan.

Inside her apartment, Madeline was swiftly packing her worldly belongings in various valises. She had called for a cab to take her to The Poconos. She was furious, she was scared, and she was determined to make an escape. No on would think to find her in the Poconos. Those detectives had not yet spoken to her, so they didn't know the whole story. She was breathing hard, almost like an asthma victim, and she had broken some vases and pictures in her anger.

Damn cops, god-damned nosy cops. What did they know of love, of the passion she had felt for him, for that pastor who loved her and only her. How could he not have loved her? The moment he saw her dance, he had fallen in love. And if only that bitch Claire hadn't gotten into the picture, he would have been all hers.

Even in the storm of her despair, she found comfort in the fact that a piece of Victor Marshall was inside her, literally. She touched her pregnant belly and caressed it, closing her eyes and imagining that Victor was alive and stroking her stomach with pleasure. Soon she would have his baby. She was only a week pregnant and it did not show. She had danced Swan Lake, Victor's favorite ballet, while carrying his child.

She closed her eyes and thought of Victor.

"Soon, my love, soon we'll be away from New York forever so that no one can ever find us or come between us again."

She looked over to something which lay over the fireplace where two candelabras stood on either end. It was a round plate of gleaming silver and on it was the head of Victor Marshall.

She took the plate into her hands and kissed Victor's dead lips.

* * * *

Mason and Lexa knocked the door to Madeline's apartment. All the lights were out and it was deathly quiet.

"Looks like she's not home," Lexa said.

"Or maybe she wants us to think that she's not home when in fact she is," Mason said.

"Always thinking like the pro you are, Holmes. But you're right. Let's check the place out."

Mason got a potted plant that stood at the steps of the walk-up apartment and threw it on the window, breaking it.

"See that, I could only get away with it with a search warrant for a possible murder suspect," he said, grinning.

He reached into the window and opened the door that had been locked from the inside. Mason and Lexa entered the house, wielding their guns.

"Miss Cavanaugh, come out with your hands up," Mason said, "we need to take you to the station for questioning."

No answer.

They searched the apartment, turning on the lights. The place was in total disarray. There were cracks on the mirrors, broken vases, and broken photographs -- even those of Madeline in tutu and en pointe; posing for production photographs of Swan Lake and her performances in Russia's Bolshoi Ballet, considered the finest moments in her career. The phone was disconnected and turned upside down, and chairs were on the floor as if someone had thrown and overturned them.

Jesus, will you look at this place?" Mason said, "Looks like twinkle-toes threw a huge tantrum in her own home."

"A fit of rage more like it," Lexa said, "Our prima ballerina probably did this after we called her. Looks more like she took some stuff and ran away as fast as she could."

Lexa had good eyes and she caught something at the end of a hallway. A mirror, one that was not cracked, hung on the wall and blood-red lipstick was smeared on it, forming distinct words.

"Look over there; she's left us a message."

They headed down the hallway and stood before the mirror. The lipstick writing read:

"The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death".

For a while, Mason and Lexa were silent and pondered on the significance of the words.

"She's insane," Mason said, "she killed Victor alright. She removed his head to keep it with her. It was a way to keep the man she loves forever."

"That sounds like the story to Salome," Lexa said, "I was able to read the Oscar Wilde play back at Claire's home in The Hamptons. It's a short one-act play. Salome falls for Saint John the Baptist and is consumed by lust for him. Being a Holy Man, he shuns her and rejects her love. In her revenge, she dances before King Herod and demands the head of John the Baptist as her reward. That line on the mirror "the mystery of Love is greater than the mystery of Death" is a line from the play."

"You're right. The book she gave to Victor. Victor probably loved the story too; as proven by that opera album of Salome he had back in The Hamptons, the one you told me about. And the painting. Madeline was letting him know that she intended to commit a similar act of decapitation. I can see it all now."

"Me too. She was enraged and hurt when he rejected her love when he found Claire and fell for her instead."

"And when he married Claire that pushed her over the edge. She then intimidated him."

"She could no longer have him. He rejected her advances and there was no way she can have him --"

"Except by killing him. Through murder, she overpowered him and claimed him for her own. No one would have him, except for her. She cut off his head somehow, with a large butcher knife and took the head with her. Oddly enough, it's like having the sense of power and ownership over the victim, like Professor Messing had over his decapitated victims."

"And now that murderous ballerina has fled. And how we are to know where she's gone?"............

THIRTEEN

The media had a field day, and that was to be expected. Madeline Cavanaugh, the famous American ballerina, star of the American Ballet Theater, a beloved and very public figure in New York City's cultural scene, a fugitive, a murderer. The story was all over the papers. In a crime of passion, she beheaded Victor Marshall and took the severed head with her to keep. Everyone who knew her, conductors who worked with her, her ballerina peers, including the Russian veteran dancer Mila Ivanov, were all shocked by the sensational news. The news spread to television as well. Soon, she was being called the modern day Salome, and her image was that of a sick, psychotic, vengeful and lusty dancer. The rights to a television movie were sold (approved by the American Ballet Theater), with a popular young daytime soap actress to star in the role of Madeline Cavanaugh. While the rest of the world ate up the juicy story, Mason and Lexa did not feel particularly excited by the whole affair.

For Mason, it was personal. This woman had killed his best friend, leaving Claire a widow, and upon hearing the news, Claire herself was anxious for justice. She walked into the Homicide Department, seeking Mason Holmes and Lexa O'Neil, saying she would like to help in the search for Madeline. She was wearing black, in fact a mourning dress, and her face was livid red. Her eyes were blood-shot from lack of sleep.

Everyone in the offices of Homicide was surprised to see her. She looked like she was capable of killing her husband's murderer herself out of justice. Inside Mason's office, the red-haired Russian ballerina, Mila Ivanov, was being interrogated again as was the Vice Squad's own Vince McClintock, who upon hearing the news, had to reveal that he had slept with Madeline for one night. He had not wanted to do so but he had to out of a moral obligation.

"Off with her head, I really ought to say" Claire said," that crazy bitch. I won't rest until I know she's behind bars. I don't think any woman in this state has gotten the chair, but if anyone deserves electrocution it's her! She cut off my husband's head for God's sake!"

"Calm down, Miss Marshall," Lexa said, "we are doing our best. It's just that Miss Cavanaugh didn't a trail of clues so we don't know where she's gone. We have been interrogating Miss Ivanov here, who knew Miss Cavanaugh more personally, where she might have gone, old haunts of hers or former addresses."

She has an elderly widowed mother in Maine," Mila said, "but I heard that she totally lost it and got a sort of heart attack or nervous breakdown when she heard the news. They say she slipped into a coma."

"Well that won't help us now that Madeline's mother won't be able to talk to us," Mason said, "and waiting for her to get out of a coma will take too long. We gotta move fast to catch this girl."

"I was aware of the affair she was having with your husband, Miss Marshall," Mila said to Claire, "I just couldn't bring myself to tell anyone. I didn't think it was serious. I had no idea she felt so passionately about him. Madeline was difficult to work with and she had her fits, but I had no idea her personality included some insanity. She always maintained coolness and control, like an ice princess, at least professionally. I figured that she would soon fall out of love with this married doctor and move on to another guy."

"I swear I didn't know the girl had killed someone," Vince said, "we had a one-night stand but I had hoped to continue seeing her. She was so charming and sweet. I had no idea she was a killer."

"A lot of killers have charm, believe it or not, "Mason said, "she won you over like she won Victor. But thank God she didn't get to harm you, McClintock. It would have been so tragic to lose one of our own guys. It was bad enough I lost a good friend."

"What are we going to do now?" Lexa said.

"Miss Ivanov, "Mason said turning his attention to the Russian woman, "despite the fact that Miss Marshall is present, could you tell us some of the details that Miss Cavanaugh shared with you about the affair? I'm sorry you have to hear this, Claire."

"I don't care anymore," Claire said, "all I want is for that monstrous, evil woman to get her comeuppance."

"Think, Miss Ivanov, think. Where could Madeline have gone? Did she meet with Victor in a private location, a condo in Florida, perhaps? A villa in Italy? Some place in Maine? Some other hideaway?"

"Well...now that I think I remember Madeline mentioning something about The Poconos."

Mason and Lexa looked at each other.

"What about the Poconos?" Lexa said.

"I was told that the Marshallsl had a cabin there."

"That is correct," Claire said, "dear God. Don't tell me that he and that ballerina used that cabin for their trysts."

"They most certainly did. They went on two non-consecutive occasions that I know of."

"Thank you, Miss Ivanov," Mason said, "that information was very significant."

"You don't think she went back to The Poconos?" Claire asked.

"She could have a key to the place. There's a possibility that is one of the places where she would have escaped to."

"Are you going to find her? I'd like to come."

"This is a highly dangerous case. She killed in a man in cold blood. She hates you for having taken him away from her when you married. She could kill you too."

"I understand."

Chief Barry Hiller was standing by the open door of Mason's office, and had overheard everything.

"Mason, you and Lexa have to be extra careful. She's a psychopath. I think it's best you go there with a group of some of our guys."

"You can count me in," Vince said.

"I think that's a good idea, Chief," said Lexa, "We'll need all the help we can get."............

The Poconos, 6am,

The dawn was grey and bleak, the sun rising eerily and dimly from the horizon. It was a cloudy, miserable looking day. In Victor Marshall's cabin, all the lights were on, and getting strangely brighter and brighter. The police squad accompanying Mason and Lexa were visible in the clarity of the morning, driving swiftly through the road that was now cleared of snow from the recent storm that had passed through the mountains.

Mason and Lexa were in Mason's Bentley. They had a communication device to keep in touch with the team of cops covering them. They were now approaching the winding road that lead up to Victor's cabin. It had always been a precarious crossing, and the road was slippery due to a light shower that had fallen the previous night.

"We're approaching the cabin," Mason spoke into the mic, device in hand," stay close and we'll call for help if necessary."

"Roger," said a cop's voice on the other end.

"It sure is bright in there," Lexa said, "why would she have on all the lights this early?"

"Beats me."

Mason strained his eyes, looking closer.

"Something tells me those aren't lights," he remarked, "those are flames".........

Lexa opened her eyes wide in astonishment.

"O my God, the cabin is catching fire!"

Mason grabbed the microphone device again.

"We're going to have to call the nearest Fire Department. Dr. Marshall's cabin is on fire."

"But what about Madeline?" Lexa said, "do you think --"

"Of course she set fire to the cabin, who else? Now the crazy girl's going to prison for arson as well as first-degree murder," Mason said.

They got out of the car and ran across the driveway that led to the front porch of the cabin. The cabin was on fire, but it had not spread to the upper floor of the cabin. Thick clouds of smoke swirled about, polluting the air.

They were still wielding their guns, anticipating an attack from Madeline. If she was in there, moving about, it was highly probable that she was in a state of insanity and in this state, she could harm anyone who crossed her path.

Mason and Lexa burst through the door, kicking it open to get inside. Inside, the fire was raging, burning drapes and curtains, and small rugs. It was especially difficult for Mason to watch. This was his friend's cabin, the same cabin where he and Lexa had first made love. It was a place he had always remembered fondly. And now it was going up in flames. They walked about, careful not to get burnt; dodging burning pieces of the ceiling that fell down over them.

They pointed their guns straight ahead of them as they searched for Madeline, who was nowhere to be seen. When they ventured upstairs, the part of the cabin where the fire had not yet touched, Madeline leapt out of the top of the stairs, where she was hiding against the open door to a bedroom.

She managed to scratch and bite Mason, on whose broad shoulders she landed, wrapping her legs around his neck, squeezing his neck with her legs. Mason was caught off-guard, and was surprised by her leap, which, owing to her experience as a ballerina, was quite a high jump. She got herself off of him and kicked him forcefully. Mason, pushed back so suddenly, fell down the stairs and hit the floor. He moaned in pain on the ground, unable to move.

"Bitch," Lexa said to her, aiming her gun, "I will shoot if you resist arrest."

As Madeline prepared to attack her, Lexa fired her gun. The bullet went through Madeline's arm and she fell down the stairs as well, crying in terrible pain. She fell down next to Mason, moaning.