THE ALTER: A Psychological Crime Thriller (3 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

Ryan heard a voice call out to him from behind and he turned around only to find himself staring into the barrel of a gun. He trembled while Bret rested his finger on the trigger, looking back at him.

“You shouldn’t have shot that kid, Ryan. Now I have to kill you before you get us both killed,” he said. His finger braced against the trigger setting off a loud explosion that plunged Ryan into darkness.

Ryan jumped from his sleep, screaming and drowning in sweat.

“It’s ok. It was only a dream,” Alice comforted him.

An enormous relieve came over him and he began to calm. The nightmare was over, but left him with a reminder of the fearful reality that he faced.

The next morning Ryan sat at his desk with little awareness of his surroundings as he hung his head in concentrated thought. Bret watched him from several feet away as he chatted with fellow officers. He was less animated than usual and mostly listened while he looked back at his pensive partner. Ryan sighed and lifted his head making unexpected eye contact. Neither betrayed an expression, but both knew the strict code of silence that bound them.

Ryan turned and looked at Ava seated at her desk and making a deliberate attempt to avoid him. He recalled her suspicions about the Williams case and the details that no longer seemed as coherent as they once did. She was convinced that there were inconsistencies, but Ryan felt apprehensive about opening another can of worms.

The doors of the precinct opened and an enormous hush came over the room. Mateo Alverez stood at the doorway looking around. He wore an expensive suit and was accompanied by an assistant, his attorney, and the mayor himself. They walked calmly down the corridors and as they passed, everyone watched with a reverence worthy his reputation. Bret looked across at Ryan, but said nothing. The chief of police opened his office door and welcomed them in, then closed it behind them. As the door clicked shut, the outside erupted with intrigue.

After a few minutes, the door opened and the chief summoned Ryan and Bret inside. The two braced for the unexpected.

“Tell me again what you saw when you went to the young woman’s apartment?” the chief asked while the others listened in silence.

“The young woman was lying on the floor with gunshot wounds while the young man was sitting on the other side dead with a gun in his hand,” Bret quickly summarized. Ryan nodded, but remained silent.

“So you’re saying that the only shots fired were from the gun allegedly found in his possession?” the attorney questioned.

Ryan grew nervous at the question and maintained his downward gaze.

“We weren’t there to see it, but that’s what the evidence suggests,” Bret explained.

“The evidence. Right,” the attorney said with a smirk. “Like the gun found in his right hand?”

Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. Perhaps they had made a common but faulty assumption. He glanced up at Bret who skillfully maintained his icy composure. Then he glanced at Alverez who was already surveying him with a penetrating stare.

“Satisfied?” the mayor said, addressing the attorney who said nothing in return.

Alverez rose quietly from his chair, followed by his attorney and assistant.

“Good,” said the mayor. “We just want to make sure everyone’s satisfied, for the good of the city.”

  The infamous businessman looked at the mayor, then at the chief, both of whom had difficulty deciphering his expression. As he turned towards the door, he looked at Ryan. Ryan made a brave attempt not to appear suspicious and looked back at him for a few seconds until he stepped through the door.

As they marched towards the exit, Bret whispered into Ryan’s ear, “You might as well have told him you shot his boy.”

Ryan looked around at him in silence. He was already nervous about Alverez, but Bret’s words had a condemning twist. He shot Luis, but Bret was the one who killed him.

“Men’s room in two minutes,” Bret said then walking away.

Ryan entered the men’s room ahead of time and waited. He leaned against the basin counter and looked himself in the mirror, wondering how someone as careful as he was got himself into such a predicament.

The door soon opened and Bret entered. Ryan attempted to say a few words that he had rehearsed, but Bret raised his hand to silence him. He swung open the doors of the stalls for inspection then turned to Ryan.

“Am I gonna have to start worrying about you, Ryan?” he questioned.

Before Ryan could respond, the door opened and another officer stepped in. It was Albert Simpson, a chubby colleague who wore thick glasses and worked in the evidence room. He handed Bret a small, transparent plastic bag. Ryan looked at the blood stained bullet fragments and wondered.

“See Ryan, you have to be resourceful to survive in this city,” he said, patting Albert on the back and placing the evidence into his pocket.

“But what will happen when they release the body to the family?” Ryan asked.

Bret looked at Albert and they both chuckled. Turning to Ryan he said, “Oh ye of little faith. Just keep your mouth shut and let me work my magic.”

"You need to loosen up, man. You need to learn how to relax a little," Albert suggested.

"Come on. I'll show you what really makes this place tick," Bret invited him.

The two drove around town and into the most unlikely places. They toured underground clubs with strippers, deafening music, and flashing lights. They visited local hangout spots and mingled drug dealers. These were the places they would normally go to look for suspects, but this time it was an educational tour.

Ryan felt defiled and the next day he found himself sitting before the altar of an old, cathedral. Daylight struggled to illuminate its dark, vintage, and spacious interior.  The pews were as empty as the podium, except for Ryan and a few others who sought solace within its walls.

Ryan sat in meditation while admiring the antique structures before him. A magnificent organ rose above the stained glass windows and towards the ceiling. Something about the place reminded him of a childhood he could hardly remember. Though he had not visited church in several years, he had a special need to cleanse himself of the stains he bore.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor towards the front where he sat. He did not look behind him. This was a place for private redemption. Each one’s visit was between him and his God. The footsteps ended and a large figure entered the pew and sat beside him. Ryan kept his gaze fixed ahead.

"Come here often, detective?" the man said unexpectedly, addressing him with a calm, grizzly voice, and a slightly South American accent. Ryan looked at him as he removed his hat. It was Mateo Alverez. A chill raced through his body and he shuffled in his seat, looking around only to see two unlikely visitors guarding the entrance. He looked back at Alverez, recalled his question, and shook his head in response.

"Some men come here to clear their heads, some to unburden themselves of guilt. But if you come here I’m going to assume that you believe in God," he said.

Ryan nodded, but wondered where Alverez’s logic lead.

"Well if you believe in God then you have to believe in the devil also. You have to believe that evil exists around us, inside of us," he continued.

Ryan listened closely. He could feel the suspense building as he analyzed every word. Alverez’s calm intensity tormented him, but he tried to appear as composed as he possibly could.

"But I’m not afraid to say I believe in God, detective. In fact I admire him. I admire the fact that no matter how people ignore or blaspheme, he is patient and calm knowing he is in complete control, knowing he is Almighty.”

Alverez paused and nodded appreciatively as he contemplated the significance of his own words. Then he continued, “We have certain things in common, God and I. But do you know the big difference between Him and me?" he asked turning to Ryan.

Ryan looked back at him. The kingpin frowned as his eyes glistened with intensity in the shadows. He leaned forward ever so slightly. Then, responding to his own question he said, “God forgives.”

His words were as cold as his look and Ryan’s breath left him. After returning the hat to his head, Alverez stood then started towards the exit of the cathedral. Ryan watched as his large frame moved down the dimly lit corridor with his footsteps echoing to a slow, consistent beat. As he approached the door, the two men opened and he stepped out. Surely, Ryan would face him again.

CHAPTER SIX

Ryan waited in a dark, lightly traversed parking lot several miles out of town. A few days had passed since his encounter with Mateo Alverez, and he pondered the implications of his parting words. He was growing fearful and realized that he also needed to find out as much as he could about the people he worked with and needed to protect himself from.

His car door opened and Ava sat in the passenger seat beside him. She was the only one he trusted enough to discuss matters with. She seemed incorruptible and just as concerned as he was. She sat quietly for a second then looked across at him.

"What happened at that apartment, Ryan? There's more to it, isn't there? It must have taken something special to bring Mateo Alverez all the way to the precinct," she said.

Ryan sat there reluctantly and Ava sighed in frustration. Finally he spoke, "Something terrible is going to happen. Alverez is gonna retaliate. He doesn't care what happened at the apartment."

"Retaliate over what? Ryan, if you're protecting Bret Mitchell you need to tell me," she insisted. "Remember I told you about the mayor's wife? I found out that the mayor was pushing for the construction of a multibillion dollar complex, but permits were denied because of a school next to the property. The school closed after the janitor (Jason Williams) allegedly killed the principal (the mayor’s wife), and then jumped off the roof of the school building. Doesn’t that seem awfully convenient?" she speculated.

"Ava," Ryan said, slowly shaking his head in skepticism, “do you even have any proof of this?"

"I have people in the syndicate who owe me their lives. I know things,” she said defensively. "The mayor is clearing the way from the top, and Alverez is clearing from beneath. And guess who the middle man is in all of this?"

"Who?" Ryan asked, intrigued by her conspiracy theory.

"The same person who started the killing cops before Dr. Williams had any reason to. And guess what? He’s one of us. A few months ago, Dr. Williams joked to his country club buddies about a borderline cop..."

Before she could complete her explanation, Ava suddenly became frantic and shuffled in her seat as if seeking a place to hide. Desperate, she jumped into Ryan's lap with her back to the windshield and pressed her lips against his. Ryan was startled and made a gentle attempt to restrain her. He relented when his glance through the windshield revealed Bret standing several feet away.

A few tense moments passed, one of fearful anxiety and forced intimacy. A conflict boiled within him. He had not kissed another woman since marrying Alice, but this wasn’t really a kiss, he thought. Besides, with Bret’s apprehensions, this was preferred to being seen by him. He stole a glance through the windshield and realized that Bret had disappeared, but a strange fire within caused him to hold on to her a little longer. Then with all his strength he pulled her away.

“He’s gone now,” he said catching his breath.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, hanging her head in embarrassment as she returned to the passenger seat. She combed her hair with her fingers and composed herself while Ryan clutched the steering wheel with both hands.

After a tense, awkward moment Ava spoke. “Ryan, I’m not even sure if I can trust you, but I certainly hope to God. I don’t know if you’re covering up for Bret, but things are about to get really ugly. Jason Williams didn’t kill the mayor’s wife, and he didn’t jump from the roof of the school building. Mrs. Richards was working late in her office while Jason was cleaning the corridors. He saw her being strangled through the glass door and ran to the roof where the killer found him and threw him down. The killer then came back to the office and stabbed the dead woman with her own scissors.”

“That doesn’t even make sense. Why would he do that?” Ryan asked.

“Because Jason Williams could handle a mop, but no one was going to believe he could strangle someone. So he had to make it look like the kid stabbed her to death,” she argued.               Ryan exhaled as he stared through the windshield.

She grabbed his shoulder demanding his full attention then slowly enunciated, “Bret Mitchell is a murderer.” 

He looked back at her and remembered the words of Dr. Williams before he died. What he already knew about Bret was consistent and even more damning, but somehow this latest twist made him shiver.

“Bret killed Principal Richards and Jason Williams to remove all obstacles to the mayor’s development plan.” Ava summarized.

Ryan felt overwhelmed and rubbed his temples with both hands. He ached to tell her what he knew, but could not take the risk. She looked at him with hopeful yearning, but all she could see was doubt. Shaking her head in frustration, she grabbed her handbag to leave when her phone rang.

“What?” she said in alarm.

Ryan’s curiosity peaked and he waited in suspense as Ava hung up the phone. She shook her head and took a deep breath then looked at Ryan and said, “Albert Simpson was murdered. They just found his body.”

Ryan’s chest suddenly became heavier. He began to sweat and his thoughts ran wild. Albert was a major player in concealing the evidence and he wondered who would have a greater interest in seeing him dead, Bret or Alverez.

“See? This is what I was afraid of,” Ava said while getting out of the car. “And it’s only the beginning. I’m going to the crime scene, but we can’t go there together.” Ryan agreed.

Ava arrived at the scene. The night was aglow with the colors of flashing sirens that lit what would otherwise have been a very dark area of a decrepit part of the city. She weaved her way through the small crowd of police officers, eager to see what had happened to Albert. Her advance came to an abrupt halt when she reached the front and looked up at the body. There was something familiar about it that troubled her, something that she had seen just a few months before, but thought that she had seen the last of. “Oh God,” she said as she covered her mouth with her handkerchief.

A few deliberate minutes later Ryan arrived. He ached as he looked up at Albert’s desecrated body and the frightfully familiar way in which he had been killed. He mused in denial at a possibility he was unwilling to entertain. Poor Albert, he thought. He was corrupt like most others, but by no means deserving of such horrific death. Ryan looked at Ava and suddenly her theories seemed more plausible.

“Geez. Talk about overkill,” Bret said as he approached. He seemed disturbed, but less shocked than others who came upon the sight. Then again, this was Bret, always calm and above every situation. He went up even closer to examine his deceased colleague. Bret snickered and everyone stared at him in surprise.

“Is it just me, or is there something strangely familiar about this?” he said.

There was no ignoring his suggestion. The body hung inverted, suspended from a rope that came through the window of the abandoned building. His right hand was severed from the wrist and fingers protruded from his mouth. He had gunshot wounds to his chest and his glasses were twisted across his face.

“This is Conrad Williams’ MO,” Bret shouted as he turned to his colleagues.

“But Dr. Williams is dead,” Ava argued.

“Look,” Ryan spoke up. “No use turning on each other here. Either there’s a copycat or...” Ryan paused as he carefully weighted the implications of his next words.

“Wait. Are you suggesting that Williams didn’t kill those people?” Bret asked. “He almost killed you in the very same way.”

Bret pulled Ryan aside for a private word. “Do you know anything about this?” he interrogated.

“Like what?” Ryan asked.

“No one else knows the truth about what happened at that apartment except me, you, and Albert. Did you say anything to anyone? Because if any of this gets out...” he said ending with a hysterical laugh. “So please tell me that Conrad Williams rose from the dead and started killing cops again.”

Ryan sighed and Bret knew he had something to tell. “I was sitting before the altar in St. John’s Cathedral a few days ago when Mateo Alverez walked in and sat beside me,” he began to explain.

“What? What did he say? What did he want?” Bret demanded.

“He told me that he doesn’t forgive.”

Bret clutched his beard and grunted, then said, “He knows something. We made a mistake. We put the gun in the kid’s right hand, but it seems he was left-handed.”  

Bret turned and hurried away without saying another word. He jumped into his car and sped off with urgency. His reaction left Ryan in doubt regarding his possible involvement in Albert’s murder. He wondered how far he might go to protect their secret. Still, his main concern was Alverez and his infamous syndicate.

Ryan saw Ava looking at him. She had been watching them the whole time, wondering about their discussion, and whether she should have revealed her suspicions to him. Still, he remained apprehensive about his partner, wondering how far he might yet go to protect their secret.