The unseen killer, p.1
The Unseen Killer, page 1
This Novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events or locations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 by Jack Parker
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this book may be used or reproduced, in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER ONE
It always started the same: a crash, followed by an expectant silence and his mother's voice, filled with surprise, anger, and fear.
Jasper shoved his blankets back; the early sun was already warm as it flooded through his open window. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and held his breath to listen. He had the feeling that he should know what was wrong, that he had experienced this all before, but the déjà vu never fully materialized. Silently, he slipped out of bed and tiptoed to his door. He stepped over the squeaky board in the doorway and, with his back pressed tightly against the wall, slid down the hall.
"…told you not to come back here!" Anne's voice wavered slightly with fear.
He stopped; his heart pounded in his chest, drowning out all other sounds for a moment. He took a slow breath and stood at the top of the stairs. A plate crashed in the kitchen, perhaps it was a glass; either way, there was the sharp sound of something shattering on the linoleum.
The harsh sound of a hand slapping against a cheek and his mother's surprised "oh!" sent Jasper running down the stairs. He forgot to be quiet. He forgot that he was eleven and skinny.
The man was tall, muscular, and broad-shouldered. He was nothing but hard lines and rage. He turned at the sight of the boy in the doorway. Jasper's blue eyes were wide with fear. The man smiled at the prospect of another victim. Anne stood at the counter, her hand pressed against the angry red mark on her cheek, her eyes damp with unshed tears. She met her son's eyes and feared for him like she had never feared for her own safety.
"So, this is your boy." The man glanced back at Anne.
Jasper backed against the wall as the man walked towards him. He swallowed and was too afraid to take his eyes off the man. Suddenly, he knew he should have stayed hidden upstairs. Jasper was pushed back against the wall, a thick hand at his throat.
Anne threw herself against the man and was swatted to the floor like an annoying fly. Her forehead hit the cupboard, and blood ran from under her fair hair. Jasper couldn't breathe. He fought and kicked, but the few blows that reached their target were easily ignored. He was too weak to break through the wall of muscle that pinned him.
Without a second thought, Anne reached up and pulled a knife from the sink. The man slammed Jasper against the wall. Stars blinked in the boy's vision, the colors slowly fading until they were gone. His world was now black and white, fuzzy around the edges. He was dizzy and would have collapsed to the floor if not for the hand still at his throat. As soon as the knife went into the man's side, he slammed Jasper against the wall and spun around. He grabbed Anne by the throat and lifted her off the ground.
Jasper crumpled to the floor. He felt blood running down his head, and darkness darkened his vision as he struggled to keep sight of his mother. All he could see was the man's back and quick glimpses of his mother as she struggled. There was a flash of silver, and Anne's yell sounded strangled and wet. She dropped to the floor like a marionette when its strings had been cut.
Jasper blinked, and the only colors he could see were the red blood spreading out from his mother's still body like a blasphemous halo, the green of her open dead eyes, and the blue of the beautiful summer sky through the kitchen window. Everything else remained in shades of gray. He blinked again, his eyelids suddenly much heavier. He was helpless as he watched a heavy boot connect with his head. There was a flash of light, and then he knew nothing else.
The shrill beeping of an alarm clock woke Jasper from the recurring nightmare. On those nights, he was grateful for his 5 a.m. wake-up call, grateful for the morning that arrived almost painfully early. His German Shepherd, Ace, looked up to make sure his master was all right. Jasper untangled himself from the blanket and sat with his elbows rested on his knees as the last few images of the dream faded from his memory. He let them go. Ace jumped off the bed and sat patiently by Jasper's feet.
Even though it had been fourteen years since that day, Jasper could still recall every detail perfectly, though he didn't try to. His therapist insisted that he should, in order to "properly cope with the demons of his past," but Jasper preferred the "ignore and avoid" method.
He ran a hand over his face and through his hair before standing and turning on the overhead light. The light wasn't for his sake; he had been blind since the day that haunted his dreams. The light was for Ace.
Jasper's life followed a pattern of routine so strong that it bordered on ritual. He pulled on basketball shorts and a hooded sweatshirt before heading into the living room. He traced his fingers along the wall as he moved from room to room. He didn't need to touch the walls to know where he was anymore; it was simply a lingering habit from when he first moved into the small apartment a year ago. Ace faithfully followed, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor, and the tags on his collar jingling in a rhythm that Jasper knew well.
He sank into a chair and put on the socks he had discarded the day before. "Ace, leash." He reached over and tied on a pair of broken-in running shoes.
Ace trotted over to the door. He jumped with his front paws against the wall and took a leather harness in his mouth. He tugged it from the hook and walked back to Jasper.
Jasper held his hand open, and the harness was placed in his waiting palm. The process of fitting Ace into the harness was second nature for both of them and took mere seconds. Jasper stood, the handle of the harness in his left hand as always. Together, the pair walked to the front door. Jasper hit the button on the coffee pot and grabbed a set of keys off the kitchen counter as he passed.
The halls of the apartment building were silent and cool in the early morning, as they were nearly every morning. The elevator dinged its way down to the foyer. The doors opened, and Ace led Jasper through them and down the front steps.
The dog paused and waited for the command. "Ace, park."
They walked four blocks to East Park, a favorite spot for new lovers, a draw for kids like hummingbirds to feeders of red sugar water, and early morning runners to the wide, looping trails. In a smooth transition, Jasper and Ace went from a leisurely walk to a run as their feet hit the paved trail. The steady cadence of Jasper's pace matched the soft jingle of Ace's tags as they followed the longer trail.
The loop took an hour before they ended up right where they started. Jasper slowed to a walk, feeling his heart beating quicker at his temples and in his chest. He took a slow breath before walking over to a drinking fountain. He turned on a faucet at the bottom for Ace as he leaned over the spigot at the top. The water always tasted a little more metallic than at the apartment, but it was cold and welcome. He straightened and turned off Ace's faucet.
"Ace, home," he said, following the pull of the harness in his hand.
Jasper didn't really need Ace's guidance to the park, around the loop of the trail, and back home, but Ace liked it, and Jasper didn't mind the company. Ace now had to guide Jasper around the few early morning public transportation commuters who had emerged from their houses. If anyone recognized Jasper from the intersection of their daily routines, they made no notice. It was too early to be social beyond the occasional smile and head nod, cues that Jasper usually missed.
They arrived home, and Ace waited patiently for the harness to be removed. Jasper hung the harness on the hook as Ace went over and sat by his food bowl.
"Give me a moment, Ace," Jasper said, smiling because he knew exactly where his guide was.
Jasper poured the coffee into a mug and then took the bag of dog food from the front closet. Ace nudged his bowl toward Jasper's hand, the action reflecting Ace's personality rather than assisting Jasper. He scooped the food from the bag into the bowl and set it down.
He replaced the bag in the closet and was about to take a drink of his waiting coffee when the phone rang. Jasper fumbled for it on the counter for a few seconds and silently cursed himself for not putting it back in the phone cradle.
"Hello?" He leaned against the counter.
The other end was slightly broken by static. "It's Tom. Are you free today?"
"Something new?"
"Yes," Tom sighed. "I've had my guys go over it already, and I'd feel like we were getting somewhere if you came down."
"Of course. Station or scene?"
Tom said something to someone nearby, the words muffled through the phone. "I'll have a car pick you up in an hour. They'll take you to the scene."
"I'll be ready and waiting." Jasper took a drink of the coffee.
"Thanks." Tom ended the call.
Jasper put the phone back on the counter and ignored the phone cradle again. He quickly drained the coffee and headed toward the bedroom.
After a quick shower and s have, he grabbed a pair of jeans from the floor. In his closet, shirts were carefully organized and hung according to color, with plastic dividers between the colors. The dividers were labeled with Braille. Jasper felt along until he came across the black, button-front shirt he wanted. From an equally organized shelf, he pulled on a gray sweater.
From the top of his dresser, he grabbed a police badge and cell phone and clipped them to his belt. He took a pair of expensive sunglasses and slipped them on; if he wasn't on a case, he didn't wear them. Police officers tended to get a little nervous when they realized they had a blind guy on their team. The sunglasses deflected some of the automatic realization of Jasper's blindness. He took a folded white cane from the dresser as well and headed to the living room. He heard Ace walk towards him, could almost hear the excited wag of his tail. He pulled on sturdy boots and walked towards the door. Ace brushed past him and stood under his harness on the hook. Jasper grabbed a messenger bag from the counter.
"Sorry, bud, I have to leave you here on this one." Jasper reached down and scratched Ace under the collar. "I'll be back later."
He slipped out the door and headed for the elevator. When the door dinged open at the bottom, he unfolded the cane and made his way to the front doors. He sat down on the front steps and felt the cool concrete through his jeans. He wasn't waiting long when his cell phone rang.
He flipped it open. "Jasper Sheridan."
"It's Tom. ETA is five minutes."
"I'm waiting outside." Jasper noticed the hesitance in Tom's voice. "What is it?"
"Something about this case unnerves me."
Jasper tensed; that was not something he heard Tom admit often. "That's never a good thing."
"That's why I'm calling you in. Just go through the information, the scene, and tell me that I'm being paranoid."
"I'll do what I can." The call ended.
He let go of the breath he had been holding. If Tom was worried, Jasper stopped the thought before it could fully form. Jasper never went into a case with any assumptions, or tried not to anyway. He never wanted evidence to be tainted by theory until the theory was justified.
Jasper caught the sound of a car slowing and stopping in front of him. He stood and heard the low motor of the automatic window.
"Detective Jasper Sheridan?" The voice was a little hesitant. Jasper smiled; Tom never really told the rookies that one of the best detectives on the force was blind. "Captain Berkhard sent me over."
He smiled. "That's me." He walked towards the car as he folded up the cane.
"Good to meet you, detective." The officer tried to sound reassured.
Jasper found the door handle and climbed in. He held out his hand. "Call me Jasper."
The officer took Jasper's hand and shook it. "Officer David Taylor."
The car was eased back onto the street. The first few minutes were thick with awkward silence. Jasper smirked to himself.
"How long have you been on the force?" Jasper broke the silence.
"Four months." He glanced over at Jasper and wondered what the hell Captain Berkhard was doing."
Jasper smiled. "Tom didn't tell you I was blind, did he?"
"No. No, he failed to mention that."
"Think of it as initiation. He's done it to all the rookies on their first case."
Officer Taylor nodded and then realized that Jasper couldn't see him. "Oh, um, yeah. Okay." He took a breath. "So how did you become a detective?"
If Jasper had kept a tally of the questions he was asked by rookies, 'how did you become a detective?' and 'how do you fire a gun?' would be tied, and 'how long were you blind?' would be a close second.
"Well, I took classes like all of you, had to take a test. I just got the oral version of the test rather than the written one." He smiled.
Officer Taylor glanced over and relaxed a little to see that Jasper was smiling.
"Don't worry, you're not the first to ask that." He paused. "Probably not the last if Tom has anything to say about it."
"How long have you known Captain Berkhard?"
"My first year of college. My professor was friends with Tom, and the blind kid taking law enforcement and criminal justice was interesting. They had beers one night, and next thing I know, he's meeting me for lunch."
The police scanner broke into the conversation. "…seven-fourteen, what's your ETA?" Captain Berkhard's voice crackled through the radio waves.
Officer Taylor hit a button on the scanner. "About twenty minutes."
"Detective Sheridan with you?"
Jasper leaned forward. "Yes, sir, I am."
"Taylor, get him caught up on what you know."
"Yes, sir." The scanner clicked off.
Officer Taylor glanced over at Jasper and then went into the preliminary details of the case.
A woman, Carrie Rydon, mid-thirties, was found in the parking lot behind a city public works building. The initial cause of death appears to be strangulation, though blunt force trauma isn't ruled out yet. Her car was close by, doors unlocked, nothing stolen. Wallet was open next to her, cash still inside. Her name has not been released to the public, next of kin was unable to be contacted. A note was left in the wallet, though the contents of the note were not released outside of Captain Berkhard.
Officer Taylor pulled the car up next to the coroner's van. They both climbed from the car.
"Officer Taylor." Another officer waved him over for a brief meeting.
Jasper flipped open his cane and walked towards the group of voices to his right. His outstretched hand came in contact with the yellow police tape.
"Sir, can I help you?" Officer Keith Daniels walked over. He was from the next district over and was not given the debriefing about Jasper. Broad-shouldered and muscular, he was brought on to keep any crowds back or any media that happened to get wind of this.
Jasper sighed. He'd really have to talk to Tom about warning people. "Captain Berkhard requested me."
Officer Daniels doubted that the Captain would have requested a blind man wielding a cane. "Can I see some identification?"
Jasper had put up with attitude like this throughout most of his life. Most people got a little defensive when the blind guy showed up asking to be let into official police business. Without hesitation, Jasper pulled out his badge and held it out. Daniels looked at it a few seconds longer than it would have taken if Jasper had a gun at his hip and a gaze that wasn't hidden behind sunglasses on a cloudy day.
"Daniels, is there a problem?" Tom walked over towards Jasper.
He was in his early forties, hair prematurely white, still as fit as the day he was given his badge. He claimed his hair was from stress, but just as long as he kept it, he had no problem with what color it was.
Officer Daniels looked up from the badge. "No, sir." He handed it back.
"That's what I thought." Tom held up the tape and guided Jasper under.
The two walked towards the active crime scene. Jasper had his hand rested on Tom's shoulder as he was led through the organized chaos.
"Who's the coroner? Seth?" Jasper hoped that it was someone he had previously worked with; that always made things go smoother.
"Yeah, pulled a few strings and called him in."
If Tom was handpicking his team, then this one had him on edge. They stopped a few feet away from the body.
"Hey, Jasper." Seth looked up.
Seth Lev was just finishing up his training when Jasper was brought on to Tom's team. Ten years Jasper's senior, he would have questioned Tom's judgment, but when Tom picked a team, he only picked the best. Seth and Jasper were a good team; they built up a rapport in months that would have taken other pairings years.
"What do we have?" Jasper turned on a tape recorder in his pocket.
Seth stood, his eyes still on the victim. "You got the prelim?"
"Yeah."
"First guess, and until the pathologist gets in there, I'd say the strangulation did her in." Seth was known for being blunt, which suited Jasper just fine. "I'm not entirely ruling out that the severe bruising around her torso and skull didn't have a hand in there either."
"What did the killer leave behind?"
"A note."
Jasper sighed. "That was in the prelim."
"That's all there is."
Seth was thorough; that's why Tom picked him. Jasper trusted that he didn't miss anything because Seth was known to check anomalies twice. No fingerprints, no hair, and no shoe prints were a huge anomaly.
