The Cadillac Diaries: Episode 75

In the wake of the very public murder of Ruben Ross, Ray had slipped up to the front row, trying to get as close as he could to the stage while the crime lab worked the scene. Almost a week had passed since Captain Bonkers started his killing spree, and the newspapers were going nuts. The police, already frustrated by the slow progress on the case, had been forced to waste departmental resources to arrest two copycats dressed as Bonkers, committing everything from robbery to assault and battery.

Ray leaned back against the seat and watched as Crime Scene slowly removed Ross’s body. Once the theater was cleared out and witnesses had been questioned and released, Richard walked over to Ray and sat down.

“Ray,” he began.

“I know. I know,” Ray said. “I’ve been hoping, trying, to get ahead of Bonkers on this, but he’s always way ahead of me. It’s like playing off the cuff against someone who’s been making plans for years.”

“I understand that, Ray,” Richard explained, “but things are escalating. Deborah is frantic with worry about both of us. Can’t blame her. This Bonkers is clearly a maniac.”

Richard pinched the bridge of his nose then rubbed his forehead.

“You heard the chief’s body was just found, right?”

Ray nodded.

“The mayor has almost set up camp in my office. I can’t sit on this much longer. If I don’t start making some sort of headway, I’m going to get pulled from the case.”

Ray let out a long sigh as his shoulders slumped.

“The next victim will be Jackson Kane. I believe he runs drugs for King. He’s not going to work willingly with the police, but I’ll stay out of this one.”

Ray turned to face Richard.

“I know Bonkers won’t harm me. At least I don’t think he will. He seems to be focused on the people who work with or are associated with Bradford King, but I can’t be certain he’ll spare you. Just be careful, Richard.”

“Don’t worry about me, Ray. I’ll be careful,” Richard promised. “Last thing I want to do  is leave Deborah behind with my dad. He’d probably have her running drills, training her to go after Bonkers herself.”

They both smiled at the thought.

“Sir,” a crime scene technician called as he approached.

Richard looked in his direction.

“I can’t be certain, but I think I smell perfume on the body. Like a woman was at the murder scene,” the tech suggested.

“You think Bonkers may be a woman?” Richard asked in surprise then looked at Ray.

When Ray shook his head no, dismissing the idea, Richard told the tech,

“Find out everything you can.”

“Okay, Ray,” Richard said, rising to his feet, “I’ve got to get over to Kane’s place.”

As he headed for the exit and Jackson Kane’s estate in Coldwater, Ray heard him calling for backup.

 

 

*          *          *

 

 

 

Jackson Kane stood before an army of thirty well trained thugs and twenty heavily armed teenage hoodlums. The cops in Coldwater were useless, but they still had a job to do. Kane’s contact in the Coldwater Police Department had alerted him that Detective Richard Clay of the Whitelake PD, coordinating with local law enforcement, was headed his way with an appeal to take Kane into protective custody and keep the mad clown from killing him.

Kane was way ahead of Clay. He had a panic room waiting, stocked with enough food and supplies to last him a month. With its independent air and water system, he could hide out till this was all over. No one was getting through. But to keep the clown busy, he had hired the best private security money could buy and the craziest coked up gang members willing to work for him.

“There’s a mad clown coming here tonight, I’d wager to kill me,” Kane told his army. “I’ll make this simple. Your job is to kill him.  Survive the night and you get five hundred grand in addition to what I’m already paying you. Bring me the clown’s head and you’ve got yourself a cool million on top of that. But get this straight. I don’t want anybody bothering me tonight. Clear?”

As if on cue, the buzzer at the estate’s front gate sounded. Kane retrieved a remote and switched the television to the front gate. He saw Detective Richard Clay with more than a dozen cops behind him. Jackson reached down and lifted the phone from its cradle.

“Yes?” he answered.

“Jackson Kane, this is Detective Richard Clay of the Whitelake Police Department. We have reason to believe your life is in danger, and we want to move you to a secure location for your protection.”

“I don’t think so, Detective. Is there a mad clown out for my blood? Yes there is. Will he  get to me? No he won’t. And If you think I’m going to let the police onto my property so they can plant evidence and accuse me of crimes the good people of Coldwater know I’m innocent of, well then you’re very mistaken! Just sit back and enjoy the show, Detective,” Kane laughed, hanging up the phone.

“Remember,” Kane said, turning back to his army, “everybody uses silencers. I don’t want to give the cops any excuse to enter this property. Now get out there and get me a clown.”

As everyone filed out heading for the estate grounds, Kane sat back and watched. Once the room was cleared, he calmly entered the panic room, closing himself in, walked over to a shatterproof window then looked out over his estate and smugly smiled.

“Try and get me, clown. I know what they did to deserve your wrath, and personally I would not have made the mistake that brought you back. That’s what you get when you deal with amateurs.”

He took another deep breath and turned away from the window. Planning for every conceivable scenario, he had seen to it that the glass was even resistant to bullets. The clown would not get in here tonight or any other night.

“And when you kill the King,” Kane laughed, pouring a glass of 50 year old Scotch, “I’ll take his place. Rook to King.”

Tossing back a gulp, he added,

“Checkmate.”

When Kane set the empty glass down on the desk, he saw a black rook.

“How did you get here?”

 

*          *          *

 

Across the field just inside the wall, Captain Bonkers watched as armed men roamed the grounds looking for him. Cops were gathered just outside the gate waiting for an excuse to enter. He had easily tapped into everyone’s radio and listened as each side made plans.

Reaching into one of his pockets, he pulled out a small remote with two buttons. When he pressed the first button, lights all down the block went out, leaving only the moon’s illumination.

He raised his pistol and fired into the air, filling the still night air with a loud bang. As he pressed the second button on the remote, Benny Goodman’s “Sing, Sing, Sing” began to play with its pulsating tom-tom.

 

*          *          *

 

Angry at Jackson Kane’s refusal to let him through the gate, Richard was about to call for a warrant when the lights all along the block went out and a gunshot sounded.

“Gunfire. Repeat. Gunfire,” he said into his police radio. “We’re going in.”

Just then loud music blared out over loudspeakers set up somewhere on the grounds.

“What the heck?” Richard asked.

“Move out,” he ordered, shaking off the confusion.

As they charged through the gate, Richard felt his blood run cold. He thought of Deborah at home waiting for him. Surrounded by fellow police officers, he forged ahead with no idea of what he was going to find in the chaos.

Advertisements

The URI to TrackBack this entry is: https://themasthead.wordpress.com/2016/07/18/the-cadillac-diaries-episode-75/trackback/

RSS feed for comments on this post.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: