The Crucifix Killer Part 15

'No, never have.'

's.h.i.+t!' Hunter scratched his forehead in thought for a moment. 'We've gotta go downstairs.' Hunter raced to the door, not a second to spare. Garcia followed him. They made it down the six flights of stairs that took them to the main detective floor in record time. The floor was almost empty, only Detective Lucas and Detective Maurice were at their desks.

'Do you guys know anything about greyhound racing?' Hunter shouted as soon as he was through the door. The puzzled look on the detectives' faces was uniform.

No response.

'Dog racing, does anyone in here bet on it?' The desperation in Hunter's voice was alarming.

'Dog racing is illegal in California,' Detective Lucas said calmly.

'I don't give a d.a.m.n, I just wanna know if any of you two know anything about it. Do any of you two bet?'

'What the h.e.l.l is going on in here, Hunter?' Captain Bolter had come out of his office to check what the yelling was all about.

'No time to explain it now, Captain. I need to know if anyone bets on the dogs in here.' Hunter noticed a slight uneasiness about Detective Lucas. 'Lucas c'mon, talk to me,' Hunter pressed.

'I bet every now and then,' Lucas said shyly.

All eyes were now on him. Hunter checked his watch. 'In two and a half minutes there's a dog race starting at the Jefferson County Kennel Club. I need you to pick me the winner.'

The puzzled look that had graced the detectives' faces turned into laughter. 'Well, if it was that simple I wouldn't be working here, would I?' Lucas replied.

'You'd better do your best or else someone is gonna get murdered.' Hunter's urgency sent a cold s.h.i.+ver around the room.

Captain Bolter immediately realized what Hunter's impatience was all about. 'How do you get the race card?' he shot the question at Lucas.

'Over the internet.'

'Do it, now,' the captain ordered, moving towards the detective's desk.

Lucas turned to his PC and fired up his browser. He enjoyed gambling, mainly dog and horse racing and he had several racing links saved into his favorites. Hunter, Garcia and Captain Bolter were already by Lucas's side. Detective Maurice was the last one to join them.

'Let's see, you said Jefferson County Kennel Club right?'

'Yes.'

'That's in Florida.'

'Do I look like I give a s.h.i.+t where the h.e.l.l it is? Just get the race card will you?' Captain Bolter's irritation was exploding.

'OK, here we go.' With a few more clicks he had the race card in front of him.

'What does all that mean?' Garcia had never seen a dog-racing card before.

'Well, these are the dog-trap numbers, these here are the dog names and these are the betting odds,' Lucas replied pointing to different sections of the card on his screen.

'How about all these other numbers?' Hunter this time.

'Sectionals and number of wins, but that's too complicated to explain now.'

'Fine, how do you usually make your selection?'

'I a.n.a.lyze the form but in this case I just don't have the time.'

'So what's the second option?'

'I don't know, maybe go with the market.'

'And that means what?' Captain Bolter asked annoyed.

'In short, wait for the odds on the dogs to start moving and bet on the favorite. The market is usually a very good indication of the probable outcome of the race.'

'It wouldn't be that easy,' Hunter said, knowing the killer would never set him off on an easy task.

'That's the thing, it's not easy at all, look at these odds.' Lucas pointed to his computer screen. 'We have co-favorites of four, traps 1, 2, 4 and 5 all with the exact same odds, three-to-one, and the other dogs aren't that far behind. This is a very hard race to predict. If I had the choice I would never place a bet on a race like this.'

'You don't have the choice,' Garcia said.

'Your guess is as good as mine then.'

'You're supposed to be the gambler here.' The conversation was starting to turn into yelling. By now everyone realized the gravity of the situation and nerves were starting to get the better of everyone.

'OK, everyone calm the f.u.c.k down,' Hunter ordered. 'Lucas, just do your best.'

He turned his attention back to his computer screen. 'At first glance, the sectionals of the dog in trap five look better, but by no means is that a confident guess.'

'I like the name of the dog in trap seven,' Detective Maurice offered.

Captain Bolter's look was enough to shut him up.

'What do we do?' Garcia asked nervously.

'Maybe we should go with the five dog then,' Hunter said, quickly a.n.a.lyzing the numbers on the race card.

'The sectionals from the dog in trap two look pretty good too.'

'I don't understand what you are talking about . . . sectionals? Just pick a G.o.dd.a.m.n dog,' Captain Bolter demanded.

'Captain, this is gambling, if it were that easy we'd all be making a living out of it.'

'We are running out of time here,' Hunter snapped.

'Just pick the one you think has got the best chance of winning.' Garcia this time.

Hunter's cell phone rang, making everyone in the room jump. He looked at the caller display withheld withheld. 'It's him.'

'Him who?' Lucas asked curiously.

Garcia placed his index finger over his lips telling everyone to keep quiet.

'Detective Hunter speaking.'

'What's your selection?'

Hunter locked eyes with Lucas's, raising his eyebrows as if asking 'Which one?'

Lucas thought about it for a quick second and then raised his right hand, all five fingers spread apart. Hunter could see no conviction in his eyes.

'Three seconds, Robert. Robert.'

'Five, the dog in trap five.' The line went dead.

Silence took over the room. Hunter knew nothing about greyhound racing and he was sure the killer was aware of that.

'The result, how do we know which dog won? Can we watch the race?' Garcia's voice broke the silence.

'It depends if the track has its own website and if they do live broadcasting.'

'Can we find out?'

Lucas turned to his computer to search for the Jefferson County Kennel Club website. He found it within seconds and just a moment later he had it up on his screen. He checked the links on the home page and clicked on the Program & Results Program & Results one. 's.h.i.+t.' one. 's.h.i.+t.'

'What?' Captain Bolter asked.

'We can't watch it. They don't have live broadcasting. But they will display the result about a minute after the race has ended.'

'How long does the race take?'

'Only about thirty or forty seconds.'

'So that's it? We just wait here like idiots?'

'There's nothing else we can do,' Hunter said, taking a deep breath.

Twenty-Two.

Lucas refreshed the web page on his screen. 'That's it, they are racing.'

'How do you know?' Garcia asked.

Lucas pointed to the top of the page 'Race status: racing'.

Everyone stood motionless; all eyes fixed on Lucas's computer screen as if they could all see the race track. For an instant it felt like no one was breathing. Garcia s.h.i.+fted his weight to his left leg, but no position was a comfortable one. The tension inside the office was palpable.

Hunter was starting to get restless. He didn't like this. Why was the killer playing games now? Did the killer know that one of the detectives was a gambler?

The silence in the room was broken by Detective Maurice's voice. 'Refresh it,' he said excitedly.

'It's only been about ten seconds since they started racing.'

'Refresh it anyway.'

'OK, OK.' Lucas clicked the b.u.t.ton on his browser. The webpage refreshed in less than a second. Race status: racing Race status: racing. 'See? No result yet.'

The anxiety was making everyone uncomfortable. People were starting to get fidgety, but all eyes were still on Lucas's computer screen. The seconds went by like hours. Garcia started ma.s.saging his forehead and temples. Maurice was done biting his nail on one thumb and had now moved to the other one. Hunter hadn't said a word since the race started.

'Can't we call the track and explain that someone is gonna die if dog five doesn't win,' Detective Maurice offered.

Garcia laughed. 'Yeah, of course we can, they won't just think you're some crazy gambler who has bet all your life savings on that race. Think about it.'

Maurice realized how stupid his suggestion sounded.

Lucas refreshed the webpage once again. Still no result.

'This is taking quite a long time, isn't it? It's been about two minutes since the race started,' Garcia said with a worried look.

'I know, and I don't like that,' Lucas replied.

'Why not, why not?' Maurice asked, unable to contain his concern.

'Usually when it takes too long it means the result went to the judges, two or more dogs crossed the finish line together so they have to look at a photograph to decide who the winner is. If they can't tell the dogs apart, they might call a dead heat.'

'What the h.e.l.l is a dead heat?'

'You know nothing about races do you, Garcia? It's like a draw, two or more dogs are declared winners.'

'What happens then?' Garcia's question was directed at Hunter who had no answer.

The room fell silent again and everyone turned back to the computer screen. Maurice had stopped biting his nails and had placed both of his hands in his pockets in an attempt to stop them from shaking.

'Let me try one more time.' Lucas clicked his mouse and waited. The page reappeared on the screen and this time they finally had a result.

Twenty-Three.

Darkness that was all that surrounded George Slater as he regained consciousness. An unbearable pain shot up from his groin. His head was throbbing, making him dizzy. Everything was unsteady. His legs. His body. His memory. He tried to remember what had happened, but his brain wasn't cooperating.