Sixth Sense (A Psychic Crystal Mystery) (7 page)

Katherine stood up and shook hands with the artist. Then Jack put his hands on her shoulders and guided her back into her seat.

She covered her eyes with her hands and began talking. She described in detail the exact shade of blond and the texture of the man’s hair, his magnetic blue eyes, his deceptively sweet dimples, his broad build, and his hands. His large, strong, bone-crushing hands.

“Was his nose about like this?” the artist queried.

Katherine opened her eyes and nodded.

“What about the room where he kept her?” the commander prompted. Can you describe it?”

After about half an hour, the sketch artist held out his sketch pad.

“That’s him,” Katherine said, pointing to the drawing, agitated.

Commander Jones walked around the table, took one look and exclaimed, “Miss Crystal, you’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“That’s the man in my vision,” Katherine insisted.

“I know that’s the man you
think
you saw, Miss Crystal, but Lucas Taylor is not the strangler.”

“Who’s Lucas Taylor?” Katherine asked.

“He’s the son of the Lord Mayor of the City of Sydney,” said the commander.

“Kate seems certain,” said Jack. “How do you know it’s not Taylor?”

“Because I know the Lord Mayor personally, and I know Lucas, and he’s not—”

“Not what?” Jack demanded.

“Not smart enough for one thing, sad to say. Handsome bloke, for sure, has a way with the ladies, but he’s not quite right in the head. Ever since his motorcycle crash. He was driving without a helmet. Well, he couldn’t pull it off. Wouldn’t.”

“Are you saying he’s not capable of doing something like this?” Jack nearly shouted, his irritation evident. He’d been around all types of killers and he knew with certainty that anyone was capable of murder. “Do you really think that all serial killers are geniuses? That serial killers have to be smart to be sadistic?”

Commander Jones frowned at Jack, fidgeted, and rubbed his chin. “That’s not it at all. Certainly he’s capable, physically. He’s strong as an ox, like yourself, but he’s privileged. He wouldn’t get his hands dirty. He could have any woman in town, if he wanted. He’s Sydney’s most eligible bachelor.”

“Just because a person is rich doesn’t mean he can’t be a sick bastard,” Jack countered. “Maybe if we paid the Lord Mayor a visit, we could let Kate meet this Taylor person and see for herself if she gets any kind of vibe or strange feeling.”

“I’m afraid that would be quite out of the question,” Commander Jones objected, raising his voice. “We can’t just walk into the Lord Mayor’s home and arrest his son on a
feeling.
We need hard evidence.”

“How can we gather evidence if we can’t see where the suspect lives?” Jack said.

“He’s not the suspect,” the Commander repeated.

“Yet,” said Jack. “I’m not telling you how to do your job, but—”

“It certainly sounds that way.”

“Where does the Lord Mayor live?” Jack asked.

“The Lord Mayor and his son live in inner-city Redfern in a converted warehouse. Very upscale. In fact, they’re having a party there right now. My boss is one of the guests.”

“Then get him on the phone,” Jack pressed.

“That’s out of the question.”

“Just find out if the son’s at the party. Kate and I could go over there. He doesn’t know either of us.”

“On what pretense?”

“You could get us invited.”

“On a fishing expedition?”

Jack pulled on his beard. “We’d need a warrant to search the place.”

“That’s harassment. We don’t know that the boy is even involved.” Commander Jones pulled a handkerchief out of his pants pocket and wiped the beads of perspiration from his forehead. “It could cost me my job if we’re wrong.”

“And it could cost a girl her life if Kate’s right.”

“We’d be getting a search warrant based on a hunch,” the commander argued.

Jack pulled the commander aside, out of Katherine’s hearing range. “Look, I was the first one to think Crystal Ball Kate was a fake. But you saw her in there. What if she’s right? Are you willing to gamble on a young girl’s life? The papers will crucify you if we lose another one.”
Like they did to me
.

Commander Jones appeared to consider Jack’s position. “I suppose I could get a warrant to keep in my back pocket and drive to his house on an urgent matter I need to discuss with the boss. Then you and Miss Crystal can have a look around. If you find something, don’t be a hero. I’ll send some squad cars over for backup.”

“How far away is this warehouse?” Jack inquired.

“Not far from here. We’ll take my car,” Commander Jones said, barking orders as he flew into action, alerting his team, calling the judge about a warrant.

“Come on Kate,” Jack said, taking her hand and leading her out of the station as they followed the commander to his car. “Let’s go catch a killer.”

Chapter Six

Catch a killer?
The reality of what she was up against hit her like a sharp slap in the face. She had no experience with crime or criminals. Jack Hale was right. She was out of her league. She wished she were anywhere but in the back seat of an unmarked squad car, sitting next to the macho cop who had absolutely no confidence in her abilities, hurtling her way into the dead of night to hunt down a serial killer.

“No sirens,” instructed Commander Jones to his team over the radio, slowing the unmarked car as he approached the vicinity of the Lord Mayor’s home. He pulled into the driveway and ordered the valet to make sure his car was accessible.

Jack, Katherine, and the commander got out of the car and approached a woman holding a clipboard in front of an open door.

“Michael Jones to see Chief Commissioner Williams on urgent business,” said Commander Jones.

The woman glanced over her shoulder inside the living room to where the commissioner was standing with a drink in his hand, chatting with the Lord Mayor. She shook her head and clicked and unclicked her pen, clearly unhappy about the unscheduled intrusion of unexpected guests.

“May I have your names again, please?”

“Commander Michael Jones and these are my associates, Detective Jack Hale and Ms. Katherine Crystal.”

“That’s Katherine with a K and Crystal with a C,” Katherine noted, stepping into the porch light.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Who cares how you spell your name? We’re wasting precious time.” He slung the reprimand like he was dressing down an underling, not a colleague.

“You’re not on the list,” the woman persisted. “Do you have some identification?”

“Is this a party or an interrogation?” the commander hissed, jerking his badge from his pocket and flashing it in the gatekeeper’s face. He pulled back his jacket to give her a bird’s-eye-view of his .357 Smith & Wesson revolver. “Allow me to introduce my good friends Mr. Smith & Mr. Wesson. I don’t leave home without them. Why don’t you check again? I’m sure we’re on the list.”

Flustered, the woman stepped back. “I don’t like to interrupt The Lord Mayor, but I’ll get Chief Commissioner Williams.”

“I would appreciate that.” The commander turned back to them and whispered, “Katherine, you and Jack get busy. Have a look around. Be inconspicuous.”

Jack and Katherine followed the commander into the house and had started to disappear into the crowd when Jack placed his hand on Kate’s shoulder to stop her.

“I’d like to hear this conversation,” Jack whispered.

Commissioner Williams walked over to the commander. “What are you doing here, Jones?”

“We’re looking into the possibility that the, uh, Lord Mayor’s son, that is, Lucas Taylor, may somehow be involved in the Sydney Strangler case.”

The commissioner’s face flared in anger. “Involved? In what way?”

“The psychic we brought over from Atlanta had a vision. She identified Taylor as the Strangler.”

“She had a
vision
? Is this some kind of a joke? And you thought you’d come to the Lord Mayor’s house, interrupt his party, and question him about his son? That’s outrageous! You don’t have a suspect and you’re grasping at straws.”

Jack nudged Katherine, herded her in with a cluster of guests, and planted her squarely behind an indoor ornamental tree to hide them from the commander’s view.

“I have a woman, the psychic, here, and she’s trying to see if she gets any—”

“Vibes? Is that the word you’re looking for, Jones? I know I authorized this psychic thing as a last ditch resort because you and your people have absolutely nothing to go on, but I will not allow anyone from my staff to insult the Lord Mayor this way. I think you’d better find this psychic person and go.”

“Yes, sir,” Commander Jones said, looking perplexed as he glanced around the room. The commander cleared his throat. “I...uh...seem to have lost them, sir.”

“Well, you’d bloody well better find them, then, Commander, if you fancy your job.” Commissioner Williams scanned the room, then straightened his tie. “I’m going to smooth things over with the Lord Mayor, and when I look up, I don’t want to see you here.”

Commander Jones surveyed the room and spotted Jack and Katherine behind the potted plant. The crowd was restless. Apparently everyone in the room had heard the argument. The Lord Mayor confronted the commander.

“Problem?” the Lord Mayor said.

“Just a routine police matter,” Commissioner Williams assured his host.

“Do you sense anything yet?” Jack asked, grabbing Katherine’s hand and ushering her into the next room and out of sight of the Lord Mayor.

“I’m not a crime-sniffing dog, for heaven’s sake,” Katherine barked.

“I know, but are you getting a feeling or whatever it is you woo-woo types get?”

“Woo-woo types? Katherine bristled. “Really?” She cleared her head, ignored the
jack
ass next to her, the blare of the music, the smells wafting in the air, the jumble of conversations, and focused. That’s when she heard the scream.

She turned to Jack and grabbed his arm. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Katherine closed her eyes again and concentrated. He was so close. He was here. Right here. Her skin crawled as she watched the strangler touch his latest victim.

“Kate, what’s wrong,” Jack asked, rubbing her hand. “You’re as pale as a statue and you’re as cold as stone.”

“Don’t hurt me again. Are you going to cut me?”

“
Sssh. We’re just getting started. It’s going to be a long night, Kylee. Just relax and enjoy.” The strangler massaged Kylee’s neck. Kylee struggled against her bonds.

“Just practicing,” he said.

“I’m cold,” Kylee whimpered.

“Don’t fight me,” the strangler murmured as he stroked Kylee’s breasts and trailed his hand down to her thigh.

“Are you in a trance? Kate, Kate, wake up.”

Kate shivered and looked up into Jack’s face.

“What happened to you? Where did you just go?”

“I saw him. I felt his evil presence. He’s definitely here. We’ve got to find him before—”

Commander Jones was heading toward them.

Jack squeezed Kate’s hand.

“I’ve been looking all over for you two,” said the commander. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“We can’t leave,” Jack said. “Kate is onto something. She says he’s here.”

“I’ve looked everywhere, at all the guests, and there’s no sign of the Lord Mayor’s son.”

Jack faced the commander. “Did you ask the Lord Mayor about him?”

“That’s one thing I
can’t
do. Chief Commissioner Williams instructed me to get off the property. He’ll have my job if we stay here any longer.”

“Commander, I know he’s here.” Katherine groaned. “We’ve got to stop him.”

“Does this house have a basement?” Jack asked.

Commander Jones shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “Let me call the station and see if we can track down the schematics or blueprints for the house. Maybe there is a basement or a safe room of some kind. Meanwhile, I’ll alert my people to stand by at the back entrance.”

Commander Jones turned to look at Katherine. “Are you sure about this? Or is this just a hunch?”

“I bet against her once,” Jack interrupted. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

“All right. I’m going to call and see what’s holding up our search warrant.”

****

The backbeat of a band pulsed in Katherine’s ears, in contrast to a chorus of cicadas, singing in the Sydney spring night.

Commander Jones shone the flashlight onto the blueprints he had stretched out on his squad car in the darkness.

“Bastard’s soundproofed the basement, according to these plans, but there’s no extra security,” reported the Commander. “Bugger is confident no one will suspect him or find him in The Lord Mayor’s house.”

“
His
own house,” Jack asserted.

“You’d better be right, Kate,” Commander Jones muttered, casting a sideways glance at her before issuing the order to break down the basement door.

“I pray I am,” Katherine whispered. Her heart tripped as the door splintered and a small uniformed force blustered into the room, weapons drawn. She wanted the strangler to be there, but she was afraid of what else they’d find.

“Lucas Taylor,” the commander shouted. “This is The New South Wales Police Force. We have a warrant to search your basement.”

“Keep back, Kate,” ordered Jack, who had also drawn his weapon.

“I’m coming in,” Katherine argued, trailing Jack.

“Then stay behind me.” Jack moved her forcibly out of the line of fire.

Katherine stepped over the threshold into a scene out of a horror movie. This basement bachelor pad was definitely the killer’s playground. Bloodstained sheets, shackles on the wall, and a limp, naked Kylee sagging against a steel pole, tools of torture spread out on a nearby table. Women’s clothing and underthings—frilly, fragile, and bloody—were scattered on the floor.

Jack checked the young girl’s pulse. “She’s alive, but barely,” as he used a Swiss Army knife to tenderly cut the ties that bound Kylee’s hands and feet.

“Christ,” sputtered a sickened commander, breathing deep to keep from heaving. “Where’s the sick bastard who did this?”

The SWAT team spread out and checked each room in the basement.