The Dark Theatre (Guess The Killer Book 4), page 1
THE DARK THEATRE
Guess the Killer, Book Three
CYRUS WINTERS
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THE DARK THEATRE
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
EPILOGUE
ONE LAST TRICK
KEEP IN TOUCH
PROLOGUE
One glance at the TV hanging behind the bar, and his night was ruined. Still images of the city precinct – live feed and artificial atmosphere – it sent all those awful memories coming right back. He shifted on the barstool, his shoulders coming together. His gaze centered safely on the glass in front of him – he reached out for it and put the whisky to his lips.
Nowhere to run…
Nowhere to –
“Can you turn that up please?” Ryan Dobbs asked, setting the glass down on the bar.
A TV remote slid across in front of him. He scooped it up and raised the volume.
“… that’s correct. We no longer have a hostage situation. The preparator is at large, somewhere in the local area.”
“Is he armed?”
“Yes, we believe so.”
“And has he been identified?”
“I can’t release that information at this time.”
Ryan recognized the spot where the woman was being interviewed. It was outside in the parking lot, to the side of the precinct. As to the woman herself, Ryan had never met her. She appeared to be tall, early forties, with a pale complexion, and short chestnut colored hair. Her fringe partially covered one eye.
According to the text below on her onscreen, this was Captain Rose McGuiness. She had taken over recently after the old Captain, with whom Ryan was acquainted, had been moved on.
“Can you tell us how many people have been injured as a result of the shooting?” the journalist was asking.
“I … I …”
A man in a gray suit leaned into the frame and whispered something in McGuinness’s ear.
“As many as three. We’ll have more details soon.”
“Is it true that the gunman was been questioned in relation to the Spider Jack killings?”
“Again, that is not information I can reveal at this time. All I can do is assure the public that we are doing everything we can to capture the suspected gunman. Our detectives are still working on the Spider Jack case, but it is our belief that significant progress has been made. I’m afraid that is all I have –”
“One last question, Captain.”
McGuiness’s lips curled inward.
“Is there any truth to the rumors that ex-detective and accused child killer Nadine Shields has escaped from custody?”
A look of anger crossed McGuiness’s face.
She quickly smiled. “Thank you.”
The reporters took over the feed.
Ryan shook his head, dismayed.
He held his glass up. “I’ll have another.”
♦ ♦ ♦
A short time later, Ryan was in his car. Not moving.
He had his phone out in front of him. Scrolling through images. His uniform. Him, out on the beat. Inside the precinct walls. Justin Hodge.
Ryan made a face. It held for a moment, before he continued the scroll.
Ryan and Justin. Ryan and Justin again. Justin and Kellie. Kellie and Amelia.
His neck craned forward. His grip of the phone, too tight.
There were hundreds of these photos. He’d saved them all. Scattered through were pictures of the precinct. Squad cars and interiors. Detective Shandling appeared a few times.
Taylor.
How long had it been since he’d spoken to her? Hard to say. They’d all stopped being friends after Justin got his promotion. Ryan hung around the precinct for a few months after that, entrenched in his lowly officer duties. He remembered walking by Justin and Taylor a few times in the underground garage. How they’d immediately shut up. After a while, it wasn’t even worth pretending they liked each other anymore.
Ryan’s dead housemate, Chip, took the fall for everything.
Kellie going over the balcony. Those crazy emails to Justin.
He was working with Amelia, apparently.
Amelia, who disappeared.
Ryan sighed. He was still angry. There were still so many unanswered questions. Justin was dead of course, and he couldn’t answer for what he’d done. But the same time the truth had come out about –
“Got you.”
Nadine Shields, in the middle of his phone.
Next to her was Ryan himself, his arm around her. This was after the shooting. And the death of Kellie, Justin’s fiancé. He’d asked Nadine to come out with him and they’d gone for a walk in the city together. Got some coffee. Walked through an art gallery. Ryan had taken the selfie. She had smiled for it. And of course, the meaning of that smile had changed for Ryan since he’d taken the picture.
He’d thought later, that she just hadn’t been into him. And that he wasn’t a Detective like Justin now was.
Of course there was that other thing.
How she liked killing kids.
Yeah.
And what a world this was, that right now this lunatic – who had manufactured all sorts of misery – could be free and clear walking the streets. No.
Just, no.
It wasn’t right.
Ryan wasn’t even a cop anymore.
But he had to do something.
♦ ♦ ♦
Hi Taylor. It’s been ages. I know you’re still at the Precinct. I hope you weren’t hurt tonight. Anyway, I just wanted to reach out to you. We never really caught up about Justin. Or Sal. Or that crazy cunt. Let me know if there’s anything I can do. I’d really like to sit down with you and clear the air.
Yeah. That pretty much said everything.
Ryan sent that little thought bubble out into the world, across the transmissions, hoping it would land somewhere. That maybe it would affect the direction of this vehicle. The night roads in front of him.
That it could change his own destiny –
Are you in the city? – T
Ryan picked up his phone.
No.
…
But I can be.
When he next picked up the phone, Taylor’s home address was printed on the screen. Ryan caught his own gaze in the review mirror. A last gasp of hesitation.
I’ll be there before 11.
He snapped the indicator and looked over his shoulder.
I’ll be waiting – T
♦ ♦ ♦
Her front door was wide open. The lights were all on, the blinds apart. From the side of the darkened road he could see her moving about the house, through one room to the next. He found himself looking down at the footpath, the effects of his last drink wearing thin. Why was he here again? What did he think was going to happen here?
Ryan shook his head to clear the doubt and then walked up speedily across the grass towards the veranda. He stood underneath the light of the open doorway, Taylor’s footsteps echoing from another part of the house. “Hello?” he called. “It’s me, Ryan.”
A few moments passed. Ryan bowed his head and stepped into the hallway.
Taylor emerged from around the corner and stopped, facing him from the other end.
“Thanks for coming,” Taylor declared. Her voice broke in the later part of the sentence.
“I’ll come in then, shall I?” Ryan muttered. He turned to the front door and closed it. Then back to Taylor. “How are you?”
“I’m fucked,” Taylor answered.
Ryan moved along the hall towards her.
Taylor’s hand, which had been resting on the corner of the wall, pushed away. Both hands hovered in front of her, unable to decide their position.
&nb sp; Ryan smelled the alcohol as he came closer.
“I guess that makes two of us,” he said in response.
Taylor tossed her hair back. “Want to sit down somewhere?”
Ryan shrugged.
“Alright.”
He followed her through the archway and then back around through another into a lounge area. Taylor sat down on one end of the cheap leather couch.
Ryan sat on the other.
“I never thought I’d make it back here, after what’s just happened,” Taylor said. “I’m so lost. I could have easily driven myself off the road. I guess that’s still a possibility.”
Ryan tried to smile. “These are some dark times.” A pause. “Ever since that night Kellie died. Nothing’s been the same.”
“Ever since she came,” Taylor added.
Ryan glanced at her. A knowing look.
“It’s true then,” Ryan tried. “She has escaped.”
Taylor looked to the ceiling. “You have no fucking idea what we’re up against.”
“That’s true. I don’t.”
“So why are you here?”
Ryan breathed in deeply. “I got pushed out of it. Away from you guys.”
“You did that to yourself.”
“No, I –” Ryan began. “Well, maybe.”
“Are you ready then?”
“For what?”
“The truth.” Taylor looked back to him. Sat up a bit. “We can’t run from it anymore.”
Ryan nodded. “I want to know everything.”
Silence.
Taylor stood up. “You want to drink something first?”
“Absolutely.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Two glasses. Ice. Vodka. Lemonade. Ryan stood at the kitchen’s entrance as Taylor moved about like a mouse on a wheel. Once the drinks were prepared, she left briefly to use the bathroom. Ryan moved to the counter opposite the drinks. Watching the soda fizz. The ice chunks sparkle. The fog on the glass. It was at that moment he realized no good was going to come of him being here tonight. He looked over his shoulder, sighting a path to leave the house. Maybe it wasn’t too late.
Taylor slunk back around the corner. “Were you waiting for me?”
Ryan shook his head. Shrugged.
Picked up his drink.
Taylor walked over, grabbed hers and clinked their glasses together.
They drank.
“What happened today?” Ryan finally asked.
“Lots of things,” Taylor murmured. “I helped Nadine get out of prison. There’s that.”
“You – you helped her?”
“I got caught up in her shit. I just … fell for her all over again…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Taylor lowered her eyes. “Officially, we were trying to reach out to Nadine’s contacts. The ‘Network’, as it’s been referred to. I spoke with one of them on the phone. They’re trying to give me the same deal as Justin.”
“What’s Justin have to do with this?”
Taylor raised her eyebrows. “They got to him at some point. The whole precinct has been targeted. They’re just turning everyone corrupt one by one. The shit they had him doing … I don’t want to go there, Ryan. I don’t want it to happen to me.”
“So don’t let it. What?”
Taylor sighed. She put her glass down. “I won’t. But I’m finished then. As in a life sentence. I should probably just shoot myself tonight and get it over with.”
“What do they have on you?”
“I’m afraid to say.”
“Why? What did you do?”
Taylor hesitated. “It’s a long story. I was in a … state. You know, Spider Jack’s had his eye on me for so many years. Almost all my life, growing up. I knew it too. And tonight, I found out who he was…”
“Yeah,” Ryan said. “They’re saying it’s that Marcus comedian guy –”
Taylor laughed. Her held one hand to his chest, while grabbing her glass again.
She led him back into the lounge.
Ryan noticed the hand didn’t want to let go of him.
“It was Sal, believe it or not.”
“Who was Sal?”
Taylor composed herself. “Detective Leoncelli. He was Spider Jack.”
“No. Taylor. Sal’s dead.”
“No – Ryan. He’s alive. Or at least he was before Nadine shot him. And before that we found out he was Spider Jack. And before that I shot my friend Megan.”
“Who?”
“Shot her right in the head. Cause she broke my alcohol. Don’t you do that, Ryan.”
“I won’t.”
Taylor moved away from him. Drank what was left in her glass and set it on the mantle.
Ryan had another sip of his.
“I don’t know that I’m detailing the importance of what I’ve seen and heard tonight,” Taylor said. “I mean, I was there and this blue limousine showed up to collect Nadine. This fucking evil is real. And they think they own me. I just – I can’t handle it! We’ve got to do something.”
Ryan considered. “I don’t know anything about a network. Or Leoncelli being alive or dead or Spider Jack or whatever. All I know is, Nadine fucked us over. If it weren’t for her, my friends would still be alive.”
“That’s true,” Taylor said. “They would be.”
“So, I’ll do whatever it takes to find her. I guess that’s all I really have to say anything about this. So –”
“Hold on one second.”
Taylor took her ringing phone from her pocket and put it to her ear.
“Hello…? Marcus! What –? Wait – That’s, what…”
Taylor’s eyes had widened with alarm.
Ryan moved towards her.
“You’re kidding. I don’t believe it… No, seriously, if you are, I mean – Marcus! Marcus!” She looked at the phone.
It fell to the floor.
“Marcus?” Ryan queried.
“He reckons McGuiness went nuts and killed a couple of cops and now the whole city are after him.”
“Huh?”
“Oh, now I don’t even know…” Taylor murmured.
“Where is he?” Ryan demanded.
“Going, gone.”
“Not coming here?”
She looked at him. “I don’t think so.”
“What did he say exactly?”
“He was trying to warn me. Captain McGuinness shot two people to set him free. But there’s something else going on… Oh man.”
Taylor crouched down to retrieve her phone.
“What are you doing?” Ryan asked.
“Calling Rose.”
“As in –”
“Hi!” Taylor said standing. “Are you okay…? Oh, I just thought – At home… Yes… Alright. See you soon.” She lowered the receiver. “She’s coming here.”
“I got that,” Ryan said.
Taylor inhaled. Looked around the room. “You better hide somewhere.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t want her to know you’re involved.”
“Involved in what?”
“Let’s just see how this goes,” Taylor said. “I’ll question her. Get a feel on whether what Marcus said is true.”
“What’s your gut telling you?”
“That it’s possible.” Taylor tossed her hair back. “I don’t know. She’s technically one of the only people left that I’m supposed to trust. But I guess that’s how it works, isn’t it?”
“Touché.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Another sip of vodka. Glass back to the bench. Ryan turned as Taylor moved to the back of the kitchen, opening up another door. “Are you sure you don’t want me with you? In case she tries to –”
“No, I can handle her,” Taylor said. “I’ve got a weapon somewhere.”
Ryan raised his eyebrows.
“I’ll go find it.”
Taylor moved away from the door and back down the hallway again. Ryan walked across the kitchen to the door she’d left open. There was a small step which led to the backdoor. There was another room opposite, with the light on. Presumably where he was supposed to hide. He stepped in surveying the interior. Desk. Laptop. T.V. on the wall. Single bed. Stuff on the bed.
Ryan approached further.
There was a black gown hanging off the edge of it. A long kitchen knife sitting on top.
At the head of the bed there was a white, porcelain face-mask.
Ryan moved towards it. Images moving across his mind like slider.
A match would soon be found.
Ryan turned swiftly to the door behind him. He grabbed the knife from the bed and stood at the corner of the door.
