The Crucifix Killer Part 40

Hunter kept his hand on Garcia's arm for a while longer before turning to face Anna. 'He's very strong, he's gonna come out of this easy. He's probably just sleeping it off.'

Anna had no reply. Tears rolled down her face. Hunter returned his attention to Garcia and bent over to draw level with him. He seemed to be searching for something.

'Is something wrong?' the captain asked.

Hunter shook his head and pressed down on Garcia's pillow around neck height being careful not to disturb his head. Very gently he ran his finger around the back of his partner's neck.

'C'mon, he needs the rest and so do you,' the captain said, moving towards the door. Hunter wanted to say something to Anna, but words simply evaded him. He merely followed the captain and no one said a word until they were back in Hunter's room.

'He had no mark,' Hunter spoke first.

'What?'

'On the back of Carlos's neck . . . no carving. The killer didn't mark him.'

'And what does that mean?'

'It means he wasn't supposed to die.'

'He wasn't supposed to die? But you could've pressed the wrong b.u.t.ton.'

Hunter had no answer. He tried to think but the thumping inside his head prevented him. He sat down on the bed as the room started spinning again.

'You're gonna have to brief Matt and Doyle on the case,' the captain said, breaking the silence.

'What? What are you talking about?'

'I have to pull you off the investigation, Robert, you know the protocol. Matt and Doyle will take over. I want you to share everything you know, everything you have with them.'

'f.u.c.k protocol, Captain! That's bulls.h.i.+t . . .'

'You know I can't let you carry on with this case. For some freaky reason this killer has gotten attached to you. Phone calls. Calling you by your first name. Killing games. Next thing you know you're gonna be having drinks with him. It's like he knows you too well now.'

'Exactly, and if you pull me from the case it might enrage him further. h.e.l.l knows what he'll do then.'

'h.e.l.l knows what he does now, Robert. We have nothing on him and you know it. Three years of investigation and we have jack-s.h.i.+t to show for it. Maybe two fresh brains is what this investigation needs.'

'What this investigation needs is for me to carry on from where I've left off. We are edging closer, Captain. Carlos and I were on the trail of something that we're sure is gonna lead us to him.'

'Good, so you can fill Matt and Doyle in on this trail of yours.'

'This is my investigation, mine and Carlos's.'

'Are you concussed? Has the explosion affected your brain? Let me give you a quick reality check,' the captain shot back aggressively. 'Carlos is lying in intensive care in a half coma. He was crucified alive, Robert. A barbed-wire crown shoved so hard into his head that the thorns were scratching his cranium. Two six-inch nails driven through the palms of his hands. It'll be some time before he's able to hold a pen, never mind a gun. You are a psychologist, so you can probably guess what sort of traumas he'll have to overcome to be able to get back to the job, if he gets back to the job. It was his first case.'

'You think I don't know that, Captain?'

'At the moment you have no partner. I don't have anyone else to a.s.sign to you and even if I did . . . I wouldn't, not now.'

Hunter pointed a finger at Captain Bolter. 'You said, just a few days ago that you wouldn't make the same mistake you made with John Spencer's case. You said you should've listened to me when I told everyone that he didn't kill his wife. You said that you should've allowed me to carry on with the investigation . . .'

'This isn't John Spencer's case, Robert,' the captain cut him short. 'We don't have an innocent man in custody. We have no one in custody and that's the problem. All we have are bodies. And they keep on f.u.c.king piling up.'

'You're making another mistake, Captain. Don't pull me from this case.'

Captain Bolter took a deep breath. His stare finding refuge on the floor.

'What the h.e.l.l's going on, Captain?'

'Look, Robert. You know I trust your instincts. And I wish I'd trusted them more in the past. You've got some sort of sixth sense when it comes to that, but it's out of my hands now.'

'What do you mean?'

'I'm having my a.s.s chewed by everyone above me, from the Mayor to the Chief of Police. They want answers and I don't have any. They are controlling this game now, I don't have much of a say anymore. It's gotten out of hand. They are talking about bringing the FBI into this. I'll be lucky if I manage to keep my job.'

Hunter rubbed his face with both hands. 'Taking me off the case is a mistake.'

'Well, it won't be the first mistake we made in this investigation, will it?'

The door opened and the pet.i.te, dark-haired nurse entered the room once again. 'Gentlemen, this is a hospital, not a Lakers' game. Maybe I should sedate you again,' she turned to Hunter.

'I don't think so,' Hunter said, jumping to his feet. 'Where the h.e.l.l are my clothes?'

'You're supposed to stay here for at least twenty-four hours under observation,' the nurse said, stepping closer to him.

'Well, that just ain't gonna happen, honey, so back off, and show me where my clothes are.'

She looked at Captain Bolter hoping for some support which wasn't forthcoming. Hesitantly she pointed to the small wardrobe to the right of the door. 'In there.'

'We'll keep it down,' the captain said, gesturing to the door. He waited until the irritated nurse had left.

'Take some time off, Robert.'

'What?'

'You need a break. I want you to take some time off after you've briefed Matt and Doyle.'

'Are you suspending me?'

'No, I'm just telling you to take some time off.'

'You need me on this investigation, Captain.'

'I need you to brief the two new detectives on the case and then for you to take a vacation. It's not a request, Robert. Take a break, get yourself fit and forget about this case. You did everything you could. When you get back we can talk about what to do next.' Captain Bolter paused at the door. 'If I were you I'd listen to the nurse. Maybe it is a good idea to stay here overnight.'

'Is that another order?' Hunter said, giving the captain a sarcastic military salute.

'No, just a suggestion, but I'm worried.'

'About what?'

'You. The killer came after Carlos, you could be next.'

'If the killer wanted me dead, I'd be dead already.'

'Maybe he wants you dead now, which could be the reason for the explosives in the room. The killer could be through with playing games and now he wants you.'

'Let him come then,' Hunter said defiantly.

'Oh yeah. You're the man, not scared of dying, real tough guy.'

Hunter eye's avoided the captain's.

'You're not a superhero, Robert. What would you do if the killer decided to come after you tonight? Pull something out of your super Hunter belt?'

'Why would he do that?'

'To finish the job he started.'

Hunter had no reply. He stared down at his bare, blistered feet.

'Look, Robert, I know you're fit. G.o.d knows my money would be on you on a hand to hand combat against just about anybody, but right now you're not one hundred percent . . . physically and mentally. If the killer comes after you in the next few days he'd have too much of an advantage.'

Hunter had to admit the captain had a point. An uncomfortable chill came over him.

'Think, Robert, don't be a fool, you're not superhuman. Spend the night in here where someone can keep an eye on you.'

'I don't need a babysitter, Captain,' he said, walking over to the window.

Captain Bolter knew how pointless it was to try and reason with Robert Hunter. He'd tried it many times before.

Hunter stared out at a busy hospital car park. 'My car, what happened to my car?'

'It's been towed back to the RHD. If you want, I can bring it over tomorrow,' he tried one last time.

Hunter turned and faced the captain. 'I ain't staying here overnight, Captain. I'll pick it up on my way home,' he said, his voice firm.

'Suit yourself, I'm through arguing with you. Take tomorrow and the day after off, then I need you to bring Matt and Doyle up to speed.' He let the door slam behind him as he left the room.

Sixty.

Hunter stepped out of the cab and looked up at the RHD building. His whole body ached. He needed a rest, but he knew there was no way he could've spent the night in that hospital room.

A guilty feeling started to torment him. He should've stayed with Garcia, he should've stayed with his partner, but what good would that have done? His wife was with him he was in good hands. He would be back there first thing in the morning.

The dizziness had subsided but not enough to allow him to drive home just yet. Maybe what he needed was a strong cup of coffee.

He allowed the door to close slowly behind him and stared at an empty office. His gaze fell on the photo-covered board. Nine victims staring back at him. Nine victims that he couldn't help and he'd been a b.u.t.ton push away from making it eleven.

Memories of the old laundry room came back and all of a sudden the room felt cold. The realization of how close to death he and Garcia had been made him s.h.i.+ver. A dry knot formed in his throat.

Slowly he prepared a pot of coffee just the way Garcia had taught him, triggering a new barrage of memories.

Why Carlos? Why go for a cop? Why go for his partner and not him? And no carving, no trademark double-crucifix on the back of the neck. Why? Maybe Garcia wasn't really supposed to die or maybe there was no point in marking the victim if the explosion would've disintegrated the room anyway. Hunter was sure this killer had an agenda set from the beginning and maybe the captain was right, the killer had achieved whatever he'd set out to achieve and Hunter was the last piece of the puzzle.

He poured himself a large coffee and sat back at his desk maybe for the last time. The new patients' list that he'd acquired from the hospital only that morning was still sitting on his desk. On any other day he'd fire up his computer and start looking for a match against the police database, but today wasn't any other day, he'd been defeated. The killer had won. No matter what happened from here on, even if the two new detectives managed to catch the killer, Robert Hunter had lost. The killer had been too good for him.

He touched his lower lip and felt it pulsating against the tips of his fingers. He leaned back and rested his head on the back of his chair closing his eyes. He needed some rest but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to sleep. Maybe tonight was the night to get hammered drunk, he thought, that would definitely help the pain.

He ma.s.saged his temples wondering what to do next. He needed some fresh air, he needed to get out of the office. Maybe going back into the RHD building hadn't been such a great idea after all not tonight.

His thoughts were disrupted by his mobile ringtone.

'Detective Hunter speaking,' he said unenthusiastically.

'Hunter, it's Steven.'

Hunter had forgotten about the tail they'd placed on D-King. Steven was one of the three-man team that had D-King under twenty-four-hour surveillance.

'Oh G.o.d, Steven!' Hunter said, closing his eyes. 'I forgot to call off the team. You can drop the surveillance. It was a cold lead.'

'Thanks for telling me now,' Steven replied a little irritated.

'Sorry, man, but it's been a fairly eventful day, haven't had a lot of time to do much.'

'So you don't wanna know about what's happening tonight?'

'What's happening tonight?' Hunter asked with renewed interest.

'I'm not sure, but whatever it is, is something big.'

Sixty-One.

Hunter followed Steven's directions and met him outside the disused factory in Gardena.

'Jesus! What the h.e.l.l happened to you?' Steven asked as he caught sight of Hunter's battered face.