No Grace, page 14
The glass on some of the photos shimmered momentarily, hinting at an oncoming hallucination.
Not here, please, Valerie thought.
She couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had gripped her since she woke up. She couldn't help but feel that the world was somehow different, like a dream or a foggy memory. She shook her head to try and clear her thoughts, focusing on the task at hand.
Valerie looked over at Charlie as they walked side-by-side. He was lost in his own thoughts, barely making a sound, and she could feel the sorrow radiating from him. "It's not easy being here," she said softly, "The air is thick with tragedy." Charlie nodded silently. She knew that he understood it all too well.
Will cleared his throat and stepped in. "But we must remember," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "That there are still lives out there that need saving. And perhaps George's death can teach us something that will save others." Valerie felt a sense of hope swell in her chest as she thought about the potential to make a difference.
"Let's focus on what we can do now," Will continued. "We need to identify any possible connections between the victims, and see if we can find patterns or clues to help us track down this killer before he takes another life." Valerie nodded, feeling determined and ready to face whatever was necessary.
The three of them continued walking through the house until they reached the back door. Valerie stepped outside, blinking in the bright sunlight. The backyard was overgrown and unkempt, with tall grasses and weeds snaking their way through the flowerbeds.
Valerie could see a forensics team taking samples from a swimming pool at the far side of the yard. George had been killed in that pool. Valerie observed two men in protective overalls moving a stretcher with a black body bag upon it.
"Wait," she said, holding out a hand to the men. "Can I see the body?"
The two men looked at each other for a moment before one of them stepped forward and slowly unzipped the bag. Valerie held her breath as he pulled back the zipper, revealing the charred, anguished face of George Darin. Will gasped beside her and she could hear him mumble something about the headphones on the man's head, just like James Asper.
Valerie made her observations and then said, "thank you" in a low voice. The two men zipped up the body bag and exited through a side gate.
Valerie patted Will on the arm, then glanced around and noticed a man in a long coat talking with an officer in uniform. She walked over to them and cleared her throat.
"Excuse me," she said. "I'm Agent Valerie Law with the FBI. This is Agent Carlson and Doctor Will Cooper, a consultant at the bureau."
The man turned to face her and smiled. He had crooked, coffee-stained teeth, but an enthusiastic smile. "Good morning. I'm Detective Finlay. Quite a scene we found here this morning."
"Tell me," Valerie said. "Was the victim found in the pool or out of it?"
"Out," the detective said.
"The killer must have done that to put the headphones on him," Valerie mused out loud. "Anything else unusual about the scene?"
"Not really," he said. "It seems pretty straightforward. Do you think this is the work of the Electrocutioner?"
"The Electrocutioner?" Charlie repeated.
"Yes," the detective replied. "That's what the press are calling him."
Valerie knew it was only a matter of time before the press linked the murders, but it was always unwelcome. Now that the public knew, there would be a panic, and that would make it more difficult.
"Where is the body being sent?" Valerie asked.
"Over to Jack Vesper, the coroner in Applegrove."
"If you don't mind," Valerie suggested. "We'd like the body taken to Todd Redding in Williamwood. He's been handling all of the autopsies for us."
"Jack Vesper is perfectly capable," the detective said, clearly knowing the man.
"So was Dennis Newbury over in Tulleyvalley," Charlie interjected." But now he's one of the victims. We've got a detail on Todd Redding for protection, so it's for the best if no one else is needlessly put in the firing line."
"You don't think he could kill another pathologist, do you?"
"We hope not," Valerie said. "But anyone attached to the investigation should take precautions in case the killer comes after them."
The detective went sheet white. "I should tell my wife to take the kids to her mother's in New York... Thank you, Agent Law. I'll do as you ask."
He nodded and rushed off towards the house.
"Detective?" Valerie said loudly.
He turned around just as he reached the rear gate.
"Who found the body?"
"A neighbor," he replied. "Marshall Kennedy. He lives across the street at number 17."
"Thank you," Valerie said. The detective rushed away.
"Let's speak with this Marshall Kennedy," Valerie said. "Maybe he'll know something."
They walked with purpose, out of the yard together and into the sun-drenched street. The bright rays cast a warmth over them as they crossed the road to number 17. In the street, police busied themselves, questioning a small crowd of neighbors who had gathered.
Valerie and the others walked up to the door of number 17. It was an old, two-story red-brick house with a large porch in front. There were ivy vine creepers stretching up along the walls, displaying their green foliage in the bright sunlight. A quaint, white picket fence ran around its perimeter and there were several blooming flower beds leading up to the entrance. The paintwork on the windowsills had started to flake off, but other than that, it looked like a solid old home. Valerie rapped her knuckles against the wooden door and waited for someone to answer.
Marshall Kennedy appeared at the doorway, his expression full of distress.
"Mr. Kennedy, I'm Special Agent Valerie Law with the FBI. These are my colleagues, Special Agent Charlie Carlson and our consultant, Doctor Will Cooper. I know today has been difficult, but may we come in?" Valerie said, showing her badge.
Marshall nodded and let them into his house. The interior was immaculate, furnished with ornate furniture and walls adorned with modern art. The clean lines of the decor created a stunning ambiance that emphasized the beauty of the house.
"Please, have a seat," Marshall said in a soft voice, pointing to the dining table.
"Can you tell us what you know about George Darin's death, Mr. Kennedy?" Valerie asked.
"Just what I told the detective. I found him this morning. I went over to check on him because I noticed the garden gate was open. He never leaves that open, not since his wife died. I thought something was wrong and when I checked... He was floating in the pool. I called 911 right away," Marshall replied, still visibly shaken.
"That must have been awful," offered Valerie.
"Do you know if Mr. Darin had any enemies or anyone who might have wanted to harm him?" Will asked.
"I didn't know of anyone who would want to hurt him. George was a good man. He helped a lot of people in the community," Marshall said. "He'll be missed."
"Did he ever mention anything suspicious happening around here?" Charlie asked.
"No, nothing out of the ordinary," Marshall said.
"What about anxieties or fears," Valerie pressed. "Was there anything that weighed on his mind?"
"Not really," he said. "Look... No one had any call to be angry with the man. He was a gentle type. The only time I ever saw George riled was when I asked about his dad."
"His dad?" asked Valerie.
"Yeah," Marshall replied. "George worked in a hospital. He loved helping people. His dad did, too, as far as I can tell. But when I asked him about it, he got a bit touchy with me, which was unusual."
Valerie's ears perked up at the mention of the hospital.
"Do you know which hospital his father worked at?" Valerie asked.
"No," Marshall said. "Sorry."
Valerie's mind was now kicking into fifth gear. She had an idea, and it was buzzing through her thoughts like a swarm of fireflies in the night.
"Thank you, Mr. Kennedy. You've been very helpful," she said, standing up and rushing out of the house.
"Val! Wait! Charlie said.
But she couldn't; the idea was pulling her into its embrace.
Valerie sprinted across the street and back into George Darin's house. She already knew what she was looking for, and if her theory panned out, it could be the break they needed in the case.
She waved her badge at the guarding police officer and burst into George Darin's house, her feet pounding on the hardwood floor. With a sense of purpose, Valerie barreled down the hall until she came to the hallway of photographs.
"Val!" Charlie said, coming in after her. "What's going on?"
Will soon appeared at his back, out of breath and red in the face.
"I saw something here..." Valerie said, scanning the photographs. "There!"
Valerie grabbed an old photograph from the wall. She held it up to Will and Charlie. It was black and white and featured a man in an orderly's outfit.
"That's him, That's George Darin's father," Valerie said, pointing at the man in the picture.
"What does this tell us?" Charlie asked.
"It tells us that we need to take a closer look at this photograph," Valerie said.
Carefully and delicately, Valerie pried the back off the photograph and saw two words printed in fading ink: Milton Hospital. She smiled softly and looked up at her friends with wide eyes.
"Will, how prevalent is ECT as a therapy these days?" Valerie asked.
"Not very," said Will. "Exceptionally rare, actually. I was surprised when we found out that John Fox had undergone such a treatment recently."
"Would you say that it was common in the past?" Valerie asked. "Say, in the ‘60s?"
"Yes, very," Will said.
Valerie held up the photograph. "I have a hunch, and if I'm right, it not only gives us a connection between the victims, but tells us why the killer is killing them in the first place!"
"What is your hunch, Valerie?" Will asked.
She pointed to the man in the photograph. "I know why George Darin got annoyed with Marshall across the street when he asked about his dad. George Darin's father worked at Milton Hospital."
Valerie grinned with excitement.
"Don't you see?" Valerie asked. "There's a reason why we couldn't find a connection between the victims. It's not the victims themselves that are connected to the killer, it's their families! And I'll bet my apartment that someone related to each victim worked at this hospital... Worked there and administered ECT!"
"I'll do a background check on the victims," Charlie said, taking out his phone and calling the FBI. He moved into another room.
Valerie took out her phone and logged into her FBI account and searched for information regarding Milton Hospital.
"What are you looking for, Valerie?" Will asked.
"Here we go," Valerie said, looking through the phone. "Milton Hospital seems to have been caught up in a scandal back in the early sixties. Negligent and harmful treatment of patients, even for back then."
"That's saying something considering how psychiatric patients were sometimes treated," Will agreed.
As Valerie continued reading, Charlie stepped back into the hallway.
"Outstanding!" he said. "I'm waiting for confirmation on the others but you were right. At least two of the other victims have connections to Milton Hospital."
Then Valerie read something that filled her heart with dread and hope in equal measure.
"What if we've got this wrong?" she said.
"Which aspect?" Will inquired, pushing his glass back up to the bridge of his nose.
Valerie explained: "We tend to assume the killers we're chasing are men."
"For good reason," Will said. "Most serial killers are men. Female serial killers are exceptionally rare in the population."
"But what if it's a woman, this time?" Valerie asked, looking up from her phone with wide, excited eyes.
"Hmmm," Will tapped the side of his forehead for a moment. "Actually, this would make sense. Part of the use of electrocution could be a substitute for a more hands-on kill. One that would require physically overcoming a victim."
"That's not bad," Charlie nodded. "Woman do tend to kill using other distant methods such as poison."
"But what makes you think our killer is a woman?" Will asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Because," Valerie answered with a smile. "I've just found a suspect."
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Will felt his stomach lurch as Charlie practically skidded the car around a corner. Valerie had opted for Charlie to drive all three of them, considering he was the best behind a steering wheel. Will wasn't so sure about that.
"Hold on!" Charlie shouted as the car careened around a corner and accelerated down the road. Will was gripping his seat for dear life, his stomach in knots thanks to Charlie's exuberance. Valerie seemed unfazed, her eyes glued to whatever she was reading from her phone in her lap.
"Where are we going?" Will asked, his voice feeling strained from being thrown back and forth in his seat.
Valerie finally looked up from her phone and blinked in thought for a moment. "We're heading to an address I just got off of my FBI account," she said, pointing forward with her thumb. "Demi Parkland is our suspect."
"So who is she?" Will asked, hoping that conversation would take his mind off Charlie's driving.
"Demi Parkland is the daughter of William and Gina Parkland," Valerie explained. "They were two activists who burned down Milton Hospital back in the 1960s. Demi was born shortly after that, and she seems to have been radicalized by her parents' activism."
Will felt a chill run down his spine as he processed Valerie's words. "You mean to say that if this lead proves correct, then Demi Parkland is not only a killer but also a revolutionary driven by justice?" He unhappily contemplated the idea, knowing full well that it complicated things.
Charlie interjected as he turned off a highway: "Well then that could mean that we're not just dealing with one person. If Demi Parkland is a radical, it's possible she has a community and support network behind her."
Will felt his heart sink at the realization. In an instant all their assumptions about the killer had been thrown out of the window. They were now potentially facing something much bigger than they had bargained for, if Valerie's lead panned out.
Will nervously asked, "Should we call for backup? We could be dealing with a whole group of killers here."
Valerie shook her head. "No, let's not do that yet. We don't know what we're up against so it's best to not start a gunfight before we know more."
With that, the car fell into a tense silence as Charlie navigated them through the streets. Will reached into his inside pocket and felt the envelope in there. He thought his ethical worries could easily melt away in the face of life-threatening situations. But he was still uncertain of what was to come, so he just sat back in his seat and watched the fields quickly turn to farmland.
The farmstead abruptly appeared before them and it was like entering a completely different world, one that seemed removed from the city. A ghostly aura blanketed the structures and plots, with the morning sunlight adding to its eerie presence. As they drove through, several people were walking along the winding mud track and stared at them without expression, their eyes inscrutable in the arching sun.
As they approached the property, a sense of unease washed over Will. The farmstead was reminiscent of the infamous Manson Family compound, with its rustic buildings and unkempt surroundings. He noticed a group of individuals milling around in front of an old red barn, some engaged in conversation, others tending to the livestock or preparing food.
"Why do I feel like I've just driven back in time?" Charlie said, parking the car by a field.
"I'm concerned about this," Will said. "It feels awfully isolated here, and if this group is involved in the killings then it stands to reason that they could try to make an example of us."
"Will might be right," Charlie agreed.
Will watched Valerie looking out of the driver's window.
"We go," she said. "We can't delay this."
Will was increasingly seeing rashness in her behavior and it was beginning to worry him, especially if it put them in harm's way unnecessarily.
Valerie stepped out of the car. Charlie turned to Will in the backseat and whispered: "Stay close, Will, okay?"
Will nodded. He and Charlie liked to make fun of each other, but he trusted him implicitly.
Charlie and Will stepped out of the vehicle, greeted by curious stares from the farmstead's residents. The farm buildings around them lay eerily quiet.
A tall, bearded man in a white shirt and jeans approached them, smiling.
"Hey, Strangers," he said with an accent steeped in the South. "My name is Alexander. How can I help you folks here today?"
Will thought the man's grin was a little too wide, a little too sincere.
Valerie stepped forward and introduced herself. "Hi, Alexander. I'm Agent Valerie Law, and these are my colleagues Doctor Will Cooper and Agent Charlie Carlson. We're making some routine inquiries and we were looking for someone named Demi Parkland?"
"Demi Parkland?" he said with a smile, squinting in the sun. "Now what could you be wanting with our dear Demi?"
Will watched Alexander intently as he waited for an answer. The man's expression had changed to one of guardedness now, and Will could sense that he was sizing them up. He felt the air around them radiating tension.
"Murder, Alexander," Valerie said. "If you want to know the truth. Several murders. And we'd like to know what Demi knows about them."
"I can assure you..."
"You can assure me all you want," Valerie said. "But I'd rather speak with Demi myself."
Another silence passed. Will felt unnerved as three other men began walking towards them from behind Alexander.
Alexander's smile faded as he looked at Valerie with a hint of concern. "I'm afraid that's not possible," he said. "Demi isn't here right now. She went out early this morning to run some errands, and we don't expect her back for some time."
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