Garwood Village by Robert F. Clifton (romantic novels in english TXT) 📕

“Could be, but I doubt it. Let's wait and see what Tom brings us”, Wallace replied.

Twenty minutes later Detective Thomas McKenna entered Captain Wallace's office. He had a large smile on his face as he handed Wallace the Betamax tape. “They're bringing up the player Cap”.

“I assume you looked at it at the market:”, said Wallace.

“Yep. The only problem is that the tape is short. As a result the store security only operates the recorder if and when they suspect a shoplifter in the store. Fortunately for us Horton was wearing an old, out of style, overcoat with large pockets. This alerted management and they recorded him while he was in there”.

Uniformed patrolmen entered the office carrying the VCR player and television. They placed them on the desk, then left. Stiles ran an extension cord to the outlet across the room then attached the VCR cord to the televison, inserted the Beta tape, turn on the player and pushed the play button.

Wallace and the others watched as the image of Sterns Market interior came into view on the black and white, small television set. The store cameras picked up patrons entering and leaving the store. Another camera recorded the image of a Caucasian male pushing a shopping cart. The man appeared to be about thirty years old, had dark hair and wore a dark overcoat.

“Stop it right there Frank”, said Wallace.

Stiles pushed the STOP button.

Wallace leaned forward and studied the image of the man on the screen. “That coat he's wearing is called a Duffel Coat. Notice the hood. To my knowledge that's the only man's overcoat that has a hood attached to it. Notice the buttons. They're called toggle buttons, made of wood. Originally the coats were made out of coarse wool. The English company that made them originally made duffel bags, then they made a coat out of the same material and the name stuck.”.

Looking at McKenna Wallace asked. “Did you happen to ask about the color of the coat?”

“Yes sir. I was told it was navy blue”, Tom answered.

“Then it was made for the British Navy”, Wallace replied.

“How in the hell could Horton get hold of an English navy overcoat?”, asked Stiles.

“The style was copied here in the U.S. Back in the fifties, Usually they were dyed brown or camel”, said Wallace.

“Well evidently the style didn't last. I don't remember seeing them”, said Myers.

“They didn't go over to well, but I heard they were great for football games. They kept you warm and you could fill the pockets with snacks....Or booze and you had the hood to protect your head,” Wallace replied.

“Well if this is the guy that Fetterman came in contact with at Garwood Village then he was right. The overcoat is too large for Horton”, said Stiles.

“Did you notice anything else?”, asked Wallace.

“No,” answered Stiles.

“Rewind the tape and play it again.”

Stiles did what he was told then paid particular attention to the black and white tape playing in the Betamax player. “I don't see anything different”, he said.

“Do it again. Then watch his reaction to women he meets and passes in the aisles”, said Wallace.

“Son of a bitch. The bastard either turns his back to them or turns around and leaves the aisle when there's either a woman in the aisle or entering the aisle”, said Stiles.

“Now fast forward to where he's at the meat counter”, said Wallace.

Stiles pushed the fast forward button then stopped the tape when Horton came into view as he was about to select a cut of meat.

“I'll be damned”, said Stiles.

“Exactly. Notice, he's looking over what appears to be either steak or pork chops. Then, a woman walks up next to him, reaches around him to pick up a package and he jumps like he's shot out of a cannon. He grabs his cart and leaves in a hurry, only to come back later.”

“He is one weird bastard”. Said Mckenna.

“It only proves that my profiler is right. Horton becomes ill around women. He also suffers from gynophobia, or the fear of women. There's no mistaking it now. The guy you're looking at is the one the press calls, the Garwood Slasher”, said Wallace as he reached up and turned off the Betamax player.

“What do we do next Captain?”, asked Myers.

“We go after Harry Anders at the Sorento Motel”, Wallace answered.

“Do you want any special weapons? Tear gas? Extra manpower?”, asked Stiles.

“Call in the Street Sergeant and the radio car in that district, providing they're free. When they get here I'll brief them. As far as the patrol on the street we'll have to wait and see how it goes. But, have the swat team standing by just in case we need them”, said Wallace.

At three forty-six P.M. Uniformed patrol officer closed off the street stopping traffic from entering the thoroughfare where the Sorento motel was located. The desk clerk of the motel co-operating with the police called each room except one twelve. Those in their rooms were asked to come to the lobby on the pretense that their was a problem with their bill. Finally, when Wallace thought that the general public was safe and conditions were right, he along with Stiles and McKenna made their way to the doorway of unit one twelve. As they stood there they could hear the sound of the television playing in the room. Wallace gave the signal and Mckenna swung the APB battering ram. Striking the brass lock mechanism twice, the door swung open on the second hit. Stiles entered quickly holding the Remington model eight seventy shotgun. Wallace followed with is revolver drawn. The room was empty. No one was there.

Wallace placed his weapon back into his holster, then walked to the closet. It was empty. The only signs that someone had been there were the dirty paper plates, plastic eating utensils and soiled pots and pans which sat on the stove.

Wallace walked over to the small counter where he found two paper bags. He looked inside, then reached into one bag and removed the white paper register receipt from Sterns Market. “The son of a bitch is gone. Somehow he figured we were coming for him. He's either damn smart or damn lucky”, he said.

Detective Myers entered the room. “Nothing? You made me wait in the lobby because you didn't want me to get hurt and you guys came up with nothing? Captain, I'm a police officer. Either treat me as one or transfer me. I'm not hiding in motel lobbies like some little school girl”.

“Myers, shut up! I didn't put you in the lobby to protect you. You were there to keep order with the patrons assembled in the lobby and to protect them if necessary. Did you do that?”, asked Wallace.

“Yes sir, I did”.

“Good, now go back down there and tell everyone they can go back to doing what ever they want”.

The next morning Wallace sat red faced in front of Chief Monahan. “Did you read this mornings paper Captain?”

“No I didn't”.

“Well, the head line reads, “BIG BUST, A BIG BUST!”. Meaning you and the entire department looked like a horses ass out there yesterday. You empty a motel of its patrons, bust in a door, which incidentally the department has to pay for. You stop and prevented vehicle traffic from using Ocean Avenue resulting in the businesses on that street raising hell because they lost customers and you came up empty in front of the local press who is on my ass about these murders”.

“Yeah, but we found evidence that the son of a bitch was there”, Wallace responded.

“Was!, Was! The thing is, he wasn't there and that's what counts. Now, get out of here and catch this son of a bitch and do it with your own squad. I'm not pissing away more money for overtime while you chase windmills like Don Quixote”.

Angry, Wallace left the Chief's office then took the elevator up to his office floor. He passed by the detectives assigned to his squad and ignored their morning greetings. He sat down at his desk and was pleased to see that someone had left him a cup of coffee and a lemon dough-nut. As he sat and ate his mind constantly went over the latest evidence they had on Horton. “The bastards in town. We missed him at the Sorento. Where in the hell is he now?”

He looked at the large, black rimmed clock on the wall, saw that it was nine forty five A.M. And decided to go over all the evidence in the files, once again. As he started to get out of his chair the telephone on his desk rang. He answered it. “Major Crime Squad, Captain Wallace”.

“Captain, this is Harry Billings. I'm one of the managers of Garwood Village. I'm calling because something strange is going on here”.

“What do you mean by strange?”. Asked Wallace.

“One of the residents reported that they saw a man in a dark blue or black overcoat looking out of the front window of apartment one, four, twenty. That unit is vacant, I sent Jose Garza, my custodian to check. That was an hour ago and he has not returned.”

“Thank you very much Mr. Billings. I'm sending a uniformed patrol unit to you. Stay in your office until they arrive”.

Wallace disconnected his call with Billings then dialed the Patrol Captains office. When he heard. “Patrol division, Captain Russel”, Wallace said, “Don I just got word from the manager of Garwood Village that the guy we're looking for might be in unit one four two zero. Send what units you can. Have your street Sergeant place personnel in position to keep people inside their homes, meanwhile have another unit secure the rear of that apartment. I’m on the way with my squad”.

“T.C.O. Do you want SWAT?”

“Yeah notify them. Also have communication alert your cars that there are to be no sirens. This guy might be holding a hostage”.

“Got it. Be careful”.

“I will”.

Twenty minutes later, Wallace turned on the fifteen watt megaphone, pushed the play button and adjusted the volume. There was a slight screeching sound. Wallace waited then spoke into the bull horn.

“LIONEL HORTON. THIS IS CAPTAIN WALLACE OF THE NAUTILUS BEACH POLICE. YOU ARE NOW SURROUNDED. YOU CAN NOT ESCAPE.I WANT YOU TO SEND OUT MR. GARZA. DON'T HURT HIM. YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES TO THROW DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND COME OUTSIDE WITH YOUR HANDS UP WHERE WE CAN SEE YOU!”.

Five minutes later the custodian appeared at the picture window. Lionel Horton stood behind him holding a revolver to the man's head. Wallace watched Horton move to a smaller window and forced his hostage to open it. When it was open Horton yelled, “NO! LEAVE ME BE! IF YOU DON'T I'LL SHOOT THIS MAN!”

“DON'T DO ANYTHING FOOLISH LIONEL. LET THE MAN GO. PUT DOWN THE GUN AND COME OUTSIDE. IF YOU DO THAT WE CAN HELP YOU”!

“NO ONE CAN HELP ME. I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP. WHAT HAVE I DONE? JUST DESTROYED HARLOTS, CHEAP WHORES THAT SELL THEIR BODIES AND YOU WANT ME TO STOP. YOU WANT TO STOP ME FROM ELIMINATING THESE EVIL SLUTS THAT CONTAMINATE THE EARTH.”

“THESE ARE THE SAME TYPE OF WOMEN THAT WALK THE STREETS AT NIGHT . THE SAME WOMEN THAT YOU PICK UP AND ARREST TIME AFTER TIME. MY WAY PUTS AN END TO THEM. LEAVE ME BE!”

“YOUR TIME IS RUNNING OUT LIONEL. COME OUTSIDE!”

“WHY? SO YOU CAN LOCK ME AWAY? YOU AND THE OTHERS THINK THAT I”M SICK. MENTALLY ILL THEY TELL ME. YOU NEED HELP THEY SAY. YOU'LL PUT ME IN THE LOCKED WARD AGAIN. YOU WANT TO END MY MISSION HERE ON EARTH, SO YOU CAN LET THE WHORES WORK THE STREETS? NO! NEVER!”

“LIONEL, YOU NOW HAVE TWO MINUTES. COME OUT OR WE'LL FORCE YOU OUT”, said Wallace.

Stiles looked at Wallace and said, “Cap, be careful. He's got a hostage in there. If anything happens to him you'll be the one they blame”.

“I have to take that chance. Right now Horton's scared. He