PALINDROME (17 page)

I didn’t know what to say; he had me dead to
rights. He just didn’t know that it was Ax in the video and not me.
“Why didn’t you have me arrested?”

“Have you arrested? What an utter waste of
talent. I need someone to replace the two lummoxes I shot last
night. Who’s more capable than you? I have a big job, and you’re
going to handle it for me.”

“Why did you kill them?”

“One was a junkie and the other one was a
moron; you need more of an explanation than that?”

“That’s not a reason for killing
someone.”

“Who are you, the Dalai Lama? One of those
guys dropped GHB in your cocktail so that his friend could bang you
like an eight-ball corner shot. You mean to tell me you have
compassion for those two?”

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m crazy? No, Sweetheart, you’re crazy, and
you’re dangerous. Just last week you were admitted to the emergency
room for self-administering an injection of lidocaine to your head.
Does that sound like something a normal person would do?”

“That was an accident.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re a murderer. Now
for reasons only you and I know, I can’t turn you over to the
police, but I can put a bullet in your head just like I did with
the two dummies last night. So, I hope you’ll be smart enough to
cooperate.”

“That was self-defense. You know that I was
about to be raped.”

“Too bad you didn’t tell the authorities when
you had the chance. Oh, that’s right, you split the guy’s head open
and left his body to rot. You turned the air conditioner down to
zero so that the body wouldn’t smell.” Sparks brought his face to
within an inch of mine. He spoke in a slow, controlled, and
menacing whisper. “I’m a dangerous sonofabitch. So make up your
mind and make it up now, or your next bedroom will be the cold
earth.”

“I don’t know what you want.” Maybe it was
the Valium, but I didn’t cry. I can’t say that I didn’t want to,
but the tears just wouldn’t come forward.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sparks said. “You’re
mine, understand? You’ll do anything I want.”

A moment or two passed in silence. Sparks had
me up against the wall, and he knew it. My only thought was to
protect Ax so that he didn’t fall prey to this monster as well. My
mind began to race. Where was Ax? Had the hospital administrator
called him? Did he know I was here? I couldn’t imagine the thoughts
that entered his head when he came home last night and saw the two
bodies on the floor. I hoped he had taken off and run. I hoped he
was looking out for himself.

It was too late for me.

Sparks finally spoke, interrupting the
panicked thoughts that were running through my head. “I’ll take
your silence for a yes.”

Thirty-one: Feeling Groovy

Gabi
was buzzing down Motor Parkway in
her smart car with a grin so wide it filled the entire windshield.
Enough is enough,
she thought
.
She was on her way to
Lexa’s place to patch things up and let bygones be bygones as it
were.

The separation had been a bitter pill for
Gabi to swallow, so bitter in fact that Gabi had lost nine pounds.
Like her BFF, her appetite had been conspicuously absent. The rift
with Lexa was driving Gabi crazy. She tugged at the waistband of
her jeans and decided that her pants were definitely the loosest
they had ever been. Her smile grew still wider.

She had come to terms with her anger.
Although she was not happy with Lexa’s actions, she understood that
hers was only one opinion. She had made Lexa all too aware of her
point of view and had driven a wedge between them.
The fightin’s
over, girl,
she mused.

She was singing “Just Dance” as she turned
onto Lexa’s block.

She pulled up in front of Lexa’s condo and
turned off the engine. One more tug on her waistband followed by a
sip of diet soda, and she was ready for action. She had purchased a
greeting card at Target. A hound dog with a sad face was pictured
on the front cover. It read, “I miss you so much that I made you a
present.” The inner fold read, “It’s in the yard.” Gabi chuckled
and then uncapped her pen. She inscribed it with teal-colored ink,
“Miss ya, Girl.” She signed it,
“Gab!,”
inverting the
i
as the singer Pink does, so that the
i
became an
exclamation point. A big smiley heart completed the salutation.

She exhaled a deep breath and then got out of
the car. She marched up to the front door and slipped the card
underneath it. As she did, the door latch released, and the door
swung open. She seemed surprised that the door was unlocked. “Lexa?
Are you home, girl?” She peeked through the opening and saw that
the immediate room was empty. She called more loudly, “Lexa, it’s
me, Gabi. Can I come in?” She waited a moment hoping that Lexa
would answer. “You home, girl? Can I come in?” Another moment of
silence passed before she got up the nerve to open the door. “I’m
coming in, okay?” She opened the door and was immediately hit with
the stench of foul air. “What the hell?” The smell was so strong it
forced her to retreat briefly.
Ah crap, what’s going on
here?

“Oh hell, I’m coming in.” Gabi took a deep
breath, held it, and charged into the condo. She had a full head of
steam going that took her all the way to the living room. “Oh dear
God!” The shock hit her nervous system before she had time to
process the heinous scene in front of her. She began to shake
uncontrollably, and then she retched. She covered her eyes to blot
the ghastly scene out of her mind. Gabi began to pant. “I can’t
breathe,” she said in a panic. “I can’t breathe.” She turned and
ran to the door without looking back. She was still shielding her
eyes when she heard a man’s voice.

“What’s going on in here?”

She was too petrified to meet his gaze. She
continued to shield her eyes from him with her hand and was too
frightened to speak. The man standing in front of her looked
imposing.

“I said what’s going on here? Are you a
friend of Lexa’s?”

The stranger’s voice was insistent but not
intimidating. She noticed that he was holding a grocery store
bouquet of flowers in his hand. She finally looked up at him. “Who,
who are you?” she asked. She slowly wiped the vomit off her
lips.

“My name is Randolph, but Lexa calls me
Batman.”

“Oh, thank God. Lexa talks about you.” She
filled her lungs with fresh air. “I thought you were here to kill
me too. Call the police. Please, please, call the police.”

“Slow down. What’s going on here? What is
that awful stink?”

Gabi was on the verge of a meltdown. She
pointed behind her into the condo. The stranger capped his nose and
mouth and moved past her.

“Oh Lord, dear Lord!” He was only inside for
a moment before he ran out. “Damn, I’ve seen some messed up shit,
but Jesus.”

Gabi started to cry. “Where’s Lexa? Where’s
my Lexa?”

Batman put his arm around her. “She could be
all right; there’s only them two boys in there. We’ve got to hope
for the best.”

Gabi buried her face against his shoulder.
“I’m so scared. I’m so scared for her.”

“I’m scared for her too.” Batman sighed. “You
got a phone? Like you said, we’d better call the police.”

Thirty-two: Gossip

The
Hauppauge Homestead was a
relatively quiet community. Most of the homeowners had moved in
about a dozen years ago when the community was first built. Most of
them were retirees who were downsizing and hoping to cut back on
their expenses. The community had a quiet and easy flow to it. The
streets were lined with pear trees and the traffic was light. It
was rare that you would ever see more than three or four neighbors
congregating at any one time.

Today was different.

The street was filled with onlookers. The
members of the community were out in force. The arrival of several
police vehicles had sparked their curiosity.

“Whose house is that?” one of the neighbors
asked.

A second neighbor standing close by
responded. “Do you remember, Sue?”

“Sue?”

“Yeah, Sue, remember? She was on the social
committee.”

“Oh, that Sue? She passed away, didn’t
she?”

“Yeah, last year. I think her family
inherited the place.”

“So many police, it looks like big trouble. I
wonder what happened.”

A police officer was cordoning off the
property. He was unrolling yellow police barrier tape around the
pear trees.

“Look, look what’s going on.”

The number of onlookers was growing quickly.
They were lined up along the perimeter, trying to get a better view
of the police activity.

Gabi and Batman were back in the same place
they had first bumped into each other. They were huddled just
outside the condo entranceway, where they were answering questions
for a Suffolk County police detective.

Detective Peter Sampson pulled out his
notepad. Batman was tall. Sampson had to look up so that he could
make eye contact with him. “Your full name, please.”

“Randolph Johnson,” Batman replied.

“And your address?”

Batman paused momentarily and then pointed at
his limousine.

“What are you pointing at?” Sampson
asked.

“My car, Detective.”

“That’s where you live? You’re homeless?”

“That’s it, Detective, and that’s all she
wrote.”

“You sleep in your car?”

Batman chuckled. “Only when I have to. I have
plenty of friends and family who put me up, but I’ve got no address
if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“So what were you doing here today, Mr.
Johnson?”

Batman was still holding onto the inexpensive
grocery store bouquet. He lifted his hand and showed it to Sampson.
“I was bringing these to my friend, Lexa.”

Sampson checked his pad. “Lexa’s the
homeowner?”

Batman and Gabi both nodded at the same time.
“It’s short for Alexandra,” Gabi said.

“Do you have a relationship with her, Mr.
Johnson?”

“We’re just friends. Lexa and I aren’t
romantic, nothing like that. She’s got a kind heart. She makes
dinner for her friend sometimes and puts gas in my car too. I was
just stopping by to say thanks.”

“I see,” Sampson said. He turned to Gabi.
“And your name, Ma’am?”

Gabi was still as white as a ghost.
“Gabrielle Andersen.”

“And why were you here, Gabrielle?”

“I was coming by to make up with Lexa.”

“Make up for what?” Sampson asked.

“We had a fight.” Gabi’s eyes dropped to the
floor. The greeting card she had slipped under the door was still
lying just within the entranceway. It had been stepped on by the
police entering the condo and was now filthy with footprints. She
picked up the card and stared at it. Tears began to drizzle down
her cheek.

“Are you all right, Ma’am?”

Gabi’s mouth opened, but she had difficulty
speaking. “I never had a fight with her before.”

“What was the fight about?” Sampson
asked.

Gabi stared at Sampson while she searched for
the answer. “Lexa was almost raped. I got mad when she dropped the
charges.”

Sampson’s eyebrows rose. “She was involved in
an attempted rape?”

Gabi frowned, and then she began to cry. She
nodded and then wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Are you familiar with her alleged rapist?”
Sampson said.

Gabi’s chin began to quiver. “Oh my God.” Her
hand went to her mouth. It sounded as if she was going to throw up
again.

“Could one of the two victims inside be the
man who was accused of the attempted rape?” Sampson inched closer
to Gabi, despite the fact that she looked like she was about to be
sick.

“I don’t know,” Gabi said as she wept.

“What was the guy’s name?” Sampson said,
pressing for vital information.

Gabi was crying hysterically.

Batman put his arm around her. “Detective,
could you give her a minute?”

Sampson silenced him by raising his opened
hand. “Gabrielle, I don’t like pushing you like this, but please
try to remember; what was the man’s name? It could be very
important.”

Gabi pried her face off Batman’s shoulder.
Her eyes were bloodshot, and her nose was running. “Keith,” she
said. “He’s a bartender at the Sud’s Shack. His name is Keith.”

“Wait right here,” Sampson said. He turned
and marched determinedly into the condo.

“It will be all right. Take a deep breath,
child. Try to calm down.” Batman still had his arm around Gabi. He
looked up. He was fighting back tears just like her.

“I’m so worried about her,” Gabi said. “My
God, what’s going on?”

Sampson returned. Batman and Gabi turned to
him.

“Was it? Gabi asked. “Was it him?”

Sampson was holding a drivers license in his
hand. He studied it for a minute and then nodded. “Lexa’s alleged
rapist is dead.”

Thirty-three: The Crime Scene

Sampson
allowed Gabi and Batman to go
home; Batman under his own power and Gabi in the backseat of a
police cruiser.

He dragged a bar stool to the corner of the
living room near the open patio doors and perched himself there
while the crime scene unit worked its magic. The smell of
decomposing flesh was hard to tolerate, despite the fact that all
of the windows and doors were open, and a continuous breeze was
blowing through the condo. He watched as the crime scene was
photographed and as the forensic evidence was bagged and
catalogued.

He listened to the findings that Denby, the
blood-spatter expert had to offer. “The shooter approached the
first victim and fired a single round at extremely close range that
entered the right temple.” Denby dramatized, using his hand in
place of a gun and producing a vocal gunshot sound.

“You’re very entertaining,” Sampson quipped.
“Did you minor in pantomime at John Jay?”