"Seven Nooses In Seven Weeks"
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dochermes"Seven Nooses In Seven Weeks"
A Trom Girl/Unicorn Team-Up
5/11/2009
I.
Sunday morning at ten to seven, Archie McAllister was bent over the huge stack of the NEW YORK TIMES, the one newspaper he read each week. Sitting at the little round breakfast table by the kitchen window, he nibbled on the last piece of wheat toast with honey and tried to decide whether making fresh coffee was worth it. Archie was a big friendly bear of a man, comfortable in baggy T-shirt, dark blue jockey shorts and white cotton socks. He had skipped shaving the day before and had no intention of making up for it on his day off. The warm June sunlight slanting in through the window made him smile at the contrast as he struggled through an article about cod fishing in the frigid North Atlantic, a subject that he was not even vaguely interested in.
Through the open curtains to his right, Archie spotted a silver Accord skid to a halt not three inches behind the rear bumper of Megan's beloved cherry-red Jeep Cherokee. From behind the wheel, a petite blonde with shiny platinum-white hair leaped out and stood talking on her phone in the driveway. She was wearing all white as usual... ankle boots, jeans and long-sleeved crewneck pullover, and in the bright May sunlight she almost glowed.
"Megan? Here comes trouble!" he called out.
From the adjoining room, the normally controlled, subdued voice of Megan Salenger grumbled, "Not Unicorn!"
"You got it," he answered with a grin. A second later, Megan entered the kitchen in her gold-colored terrycloth robe and fuzzy slippers. Her mop of thick black hair was still damp from the shower. The Trom Girl was just over thirty years old, alert and energetic even caught unawares at this hour. She had been a Human orphan raised by the Trom to be a liaison between the two Races. Her romance with Archie had strengthened into a solid relationship that had surprised both her Trom superiors and her friends with the KDF. No one had expected her to fall in love, least of all herself.
Leaning over the breakfast table to peer out the window, despite her grumpinesss Megan still could not repress a smile as she watched the little blonde gallop up to their front door. She had never shared Ashley's enthusiasm for excitement and she sometimes wistfully envied it. Even as the doorbell rang, the Trom Girl had her hand on the inner handle and was opening the door.
"Hi, Megan, Megan!" blurted Ashley. "Something's UP!"
"Good morning, Unicorn. What did we agree about phoning first, especially early in the morning?"
"Oh. Right. Sorry," Ashley Whitaker said, even though she barged past Megan as if she had been invited in. "But I'm onto something important here. Three murders already and I am sure there are four more planned. Hey there, Archie!" she called with a cheerful wave.
"Hi, Ashley," replied the big man, going back to his newspaper placidly.
"Listen," said the blonde, seizing Megan by both arms. "Sable has the team in Signarm for something dumb, some conference between the barons there. It's up to us. The thief will be killed next."
The Trom Girl gave up on understanding or resisting. "Well, I am on reserve duty but I do remain on call. Give me some little scrap of data so I know what you are talking about."
"This is one of those serial killers who act out a set pattern. You know, like how Samhain murdered some astronomers using weapons based on the names of planets? Or how Sepulchre killed five women named after months? I just figured it out. The thief is next!"
Giving Archie a shrug which he returned, Megan said, "Let me change, okay?" She hurried out of the kitchen.
Left behind, Ashley plopped down into the chair next to Archie and used a voice that could have been poured on French Toast. "You don't mind if I borrow your girlfriend for the day, DOOO you Archibald?"
"You're wasting the charm on me, honey," he said. "We didn't have any plans for today other than cleaning up around the house. If Megan decides to go on a mystery with you, I'd be okay with napping on the couch and watching TV."
"Eating nachos and drinking beer, maybe?" she asked.
"Somebody's got to do it," Archie said. "Whatever happened to you and that boy, Cory whatever?"
"Cory Adams," she said. "We're getting serious. We decided to try and do some babymaking. My mom always craved grandchildren, and me and Cory both like the idea. I'm an only child. Mom always said one of me was more than enough."
"Maybe it'll be a little girl to take over as the third Unicorn when you get old," Megan offered from the doorway. She had changed into sneakers, blue jeans and a black T-shirt with an open denim vest. In one hand, she clutched a travel bag containing her field suit and equipment.
"Worth a try," Ashley grinned. "Come on, come on, we have to get up to Lake George today. Let's use your Jeep, I'm sure it's already stocked up, with a full gas tank and the tires all checked and like that. Let's go."
Megan Salenger gave in. She went over and kissed Archie. "Sorry, my love, you see what I'm dealing with? How can I refuse this fireball?"
Archie rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. "It's fine with me. You haven't been on a case in quite a while, come to think of it. And you may not admit it, but I think you love the suspense and danger as much as Unicorn does."
As the two women headed out the front door and Archie got up to brew more coffee, he heard Ashley chirping excitedly, "There's this absolute nut calling himself Mr Gallows..."
II.
The driving time nonstop from White Plains to Lake George should have been about three and a half hours, but the two teammates stopped at the halfway point for a forty minute lunch at a Mexican roadside eatery. They had been catching up on their personal lives and gossip about the Teachers at Tel Shai, rumors of a new member or two for the Kenneth Dred Foundation, and what Jeremy Bane had been up to at the Dire Wolf Agency. Now, as Megan Salenger toyed with the last of her Chicken Tostadas, she gazed over at Ashley and said, "Now might be a good time to start talking about the case you have asked me to help with."
Unicorn wiped her lips with a napkin and looked up. "Eh? Oh sure. You know, I really don't like fish tacos, Baja style or not. Last time I'm gonna try them. Okay. Have you ever heard of Mr Gallows?"
"Never. Is he in our KDF files?"
"I could only find one little reference. Maybe you might find something in the filing cabinets with all the newspaper clippings, but he's not in our computer records. We never actually crossed paths with him. He's a certified lunatic. His real name seems to be Simon Lee Kithcart, age sixty-two. He's been put away a few times, escaped twice. Six months ago, he was transferred to a medium security facility in Georgia and sure enough somehow he got away again. They think he bribed a guard to smuggle him out and then killed the guard."
The Trom Girl frowned in her barely perceptible way. "What exactly are his crimes?"
"Bad ones. Twenty-three murders that we know of since 1998, with maybe a few more that haven't been discovered. Kitchcart showed classic signs of mental illness as a child, but his parents refused to face it and covered up for him until he was well into his teens. Somewhere he developed an obsession with hangmen and executions by hanging. Most of his killings involve getting a noose around someone's neck and dropping them a few feet. He's crazy as a sack full of weasels but he's not so far gone that he can't cover his tracks. It's just been luck that he's been caught even a few times."
Megan watched her friend with a sort of apalled fascination. It always amazed her that such a pretty young blonde, who looked as if she would be interested in nothing more stressful than shopping for handbags, should be so comfortable with crimes of violence. But then, Ashley had been raised from birth by her mother, the original Unicorn, for a career as an adventuress in the Midnight War. "I see. What initially put you on his trail, Ashley?"
Unicorn inspected her plate as if hoping she had missed a scrap somehow. "Hmm. Yeah, you know Jeremy has been forwarding a lot of the tips he gets on Midnight War stuff to us. Sable has me sorting it out sometimes into different categories to consider acting on."
"Go on."
"Okay then. Almost a month ago, a man was found hanged in his suite at an Atlantic City casino. He had a hemp rope in a proper hangman's noose around his neck. A chair had been kicked out from under him, and it was thought to be suicide but I got one of my amazing hunches that no one takes seriously until they're proven absolutely right. The victim was Chief Joseph Williams, full-blooded Mohawk from upstate. Around here, in fact." The blonde got the last drop from her cup of chai and paused.
"We should proceed on our way," Megan said, pushing her chair back. "You know, Ashley, maybe I don't always show it but I appreciate you asking me to assist with cases like this. Archie tells me I still need to work on social graces."
"I know ya love me." Getting the bill from the waitress, Unicorn folded money onto it and stood up. "Seeing you were raised by the Trom, it's a wonder you don't talk like a robot. I think your Human side has really come out since you started seeing Archie." She started heading for the door. "Where was I? Oh, yeah. The Indian chief who was hanged in a casino. I thought it was a bit bizarre but not really signicant until the NEXT hanging death a week later."
They headed outside to the Jeep. "Let me drive for a while, Megan? I want you to do some research on your Link as we go."
"All right," the Trom Girl replied without notable enthusiasm. As she swung up into the passenger seat, she asked, "What were you saying about the second death?"
"That was an attorney in Pennsylvania. Guy named Irwin Canby, headed his own law firm. He was found in a motel room outside Allentown, with a rope around his neck the same way. That made the news all right. Even CNN covered the two deaths with their similarities. But we knew something the media didn't. Canby had a connection with Mr Gallows from ten years ago, a secret deal that tried for a plea bargain. The deal didn't go through and Gallows went to the house of the slamming metal doors."
They were heading north again on the Thruway. Megan began to relax a little as she found Ashley was a more careful driver than she remembered. "Was there a connection between Chief Joseph and this Mr Gallows, then?"
"You bet your IQ," Unicorn said. "Listen. This was not public record, I only found out by digging through police records." She cleared her throat dramatically. "Kinda bending a few rules doing that. But anyway, Chief Joseph was approached by Mr Gallows to use the Utopia Casino to launder some hot money. The chief turned Gallows down flat and they never spoke again as far as anyone knows."
After a few seconds of reflection, Megan said, "I just do not understand why these murderers stick to such inflexible methods. If he had use any other weapon than a noose, there would be no link to be found. It's not intelligent to be so predictable."
"Exactly!" shouted Unicorn with a zeal that made Megan give a start. "These whackos are acting under compulsion, Trom Girl. In some ways, they don't have a choice. Using anything other than a rope would not work for Mr Gallows. It's his thing, it's what drives him."
"I suppose," Megan conceded. "It seems much of Human behavior will never be clear to me. You said we have to intervene before a fourth murder. Who was the third, then?"
"Right, that was Gallows' acquaintaince through the underworld, Dr Bradley Farrell. Two Rs, two Ls. He was a reconstructive facial surgeon. Mr Gallows offered him a huge sum for a new face. Not that I blame him for asking, Gallows has a puss like a vulture, wait'll you see him. Farrell absolutely refused and threw the maniac out of his office despite some bloodcurdling threats. Five days ago, you guessed it, Farrell's wife discovered him dangling in their garage from a noose."
Leaning back in the passenger seat, the Trom Girl watched her teammate with an appreciative smile. "What seems obvious is that the three victims were men who had rejected overtures from Mr Gallows. One conjecture might be that he blames his captures and time lost in prison against these men because they would not help him." She tapped her chin with one slim index finger and continued, "Is there another element to a pattern?"
"Really?" asked Unicorn. "You don't see it? Sometimes I wonder about you, Megan. Listen, I only got so far in my research. I'm not good with computers and hacking into locked files, let's face it. Heck, half the time I forget how to log into Facebook. But you're the genuine super-genius. You can get into anything from the Chinese secret police payroll to what the guys guarding the nuclear silos in Kansas eat for breakfast."
Megan Salenger was not sure how to respond to these unlikely compliments. "If... you say so." She unclipped a flat electronic device from her belt under the denim vest. "I have my Link ready."
"We need the current address of a guy known as Silent Pete," Unicorn said, cutting off a Ford Explorer as she unexpectedly changed lanes and missed him by inches at seventy-five miles per hour.
"What was that driver honking his horn at?" asked Trom Girl, glancing up from the screen on her device.
"Who knows? Maybe he thinks we're pretty. Our candidate's real name is Peter John Buboltz. Established burglar and pickpocket. He's the thief in the pattern." Ashley abruptly swung hard right to zip into the parking lot of a rest stop with a gas station, Roy Rogers restaurant and gift shop. "Whoa, hang a roger, I don't want to miss the next exit."
Holding onto the dashboard with her free hand at the sudden swerve, Megan lowered the Link and gave Unicorn a sour expression. "I think I should take over the driving again, my friend."
"Why? Anyway, how's the search going?"
"This will take a few minutes," Megan answered. "We'll start with FBI records and New York State Trooper files. There, those searches are running. Nothing yet.. their firewalls have improved but I can still enter between the strata." Her dark eyes were even more serious than usual. Trom Girl had an inquisitive, foxlike face with a pointed nose and her hair was tousled from riding with the windows down in the Jeep as they had bombed along. Her eyebrows lowered down as she became lost in data.
"I love watching you concentrate," Ashley said. "I can almost hear the little wheels spinning in your head."
"A dubious compliment, at best. There we go, I have an address for a man of that name. Aged forty-six. Three convictions for petty larceny, driver's license suspended for DUIs. Known associate of Simon Lee Kithcart AKA Mr Gallows. According to rental records of private companies, he is now staying at the Ko-Zee RV Park twelve miles ahead of us in a Dodge pick-up truck, plates UMM-9953. Is that enough information to begin?" she asked seriously.
"Are you kidding? I tried for three days to find any of that dirt and you dig it up sitting in a parking lot within two minutes." Unicorn opened her door. "I need a bathroom break before my kidneys burst."
"I'll wait here," the Trom Girl told her. "My search is still obtaining results. Kithcart has been known to carry a 9mm pistol concealed on his person..."
"Be right back," said Unicorn, hopping out and hurrying across the hot asphalt.
III.
Left alone in her Jeep Cherokee, the Trom Girl got out and crossed around in front to climb up into the driver's seat. Even distracted by working on the Link search, she could not avoid noticing how Unicorn's driving had been getting less responsible as the little blonde grew excited. She sighed and patched into conventional phone networks to call Archie.
"Hi? Hey, love. Unicorn and I are up near Lake George after all this driving. We're trying to reach a potential murder victim in time to warn him. She is certainly enjoying herself. What's going on at home?"
"Nothing nearly as exciting," Archie's voice answered. "I'm back at the kitchen table with the SUNDAY TIMES crossword puzzle. I don't expect to ever finish one of these but at least I put up a struggle. Who's Rutherford and what kind of life would he be satisfied with?"
Megan allowed a smile on her face. "That would be Ernest Rutherford, a New Zealand physicist. He discovered the concept of radioactive half-life."
"Hmmm. Yeah. That makes 87 Down 'eucalyptus.' It fits. Thanks, hon. You know, usually when you two gals have a team-up, there's no telling what might happen. Be careful, Unicorn is not exactly level-headed."
"True words, indeed. Enjoy your day off, my dear. You have been working overtime lately."
"I've also got two baskets of laundry going down in the basement," he said. "They'll be dried and folded before you and your wild little pal get back home."
"Oh, thank you. It was my turn. I love you, Archie, I will see you soon."
"Right back at you, Trom Girl. What's a seven-letter word for indeterminate?"
"The point of a crossword puzzle is to exercize your own brain, Archie. Here she comes, I'll call you later." Megan broke the connection as Ashley Whitaker dove into the passenger seat with a flimsy yellow plastic bag.
"I snagged a few treats to reward us for being so brave and dedicated," she explained. "Giant-size KitKat bars, Tobasco Slim Jims, big bag of Sea Salt air-popped popcorn, unsalted cashews..."
Megan tried to keep her voice stern but faltered. "I do not normally allow eating within my vehicle to keep it neat," she said. "However, I do enjoy those KitKat bars and will take one."
Digging into a spicy stick of dried meat packed with salt and preservatives, the Unicorn said, "It looks like we'll get off Exit 20 a mile or two ahead and go for this RV park. So far, Mr Gallows has struck on either the seventh or the eighth day after the previous murder, so we might have up to forty-eight hours to stop him."
Cleaning her fingers with a little alcohol swab from the car door pocket, Trom Girl said, "Following the pattern, I assume that our suspect feels that this thief let him down and deserves to be killed."
"That's about it," Unicorn said. "Let's roll, Megs. Mr Gallows has got an ticking time bomb inside his brain, emotionally anyway, and every now and then he simply has to explode and take a few people with him. After he killed the doctor, of course the thief is next."
"I'm puzzled by that remark."
After they waited for an 18-wheeler to roar by, Megan pulled out on I-87 and Unicorn gleefully teased her, "All will be made clear. It's so rare I know something you don't." Leaning over to fuss with the gear stowed on the back seat, she said, "I brought my Unicorn horn of course, but honestly I don't know if it will be any use. Mr Gallows doesn't have any gralic powers to disrupt. This might be where the dart guns are our best bet."
Getting off at Exit 20, they made a loop and soon found the Ko-Zee RV Park by the side of the road. "Not bad really," Unicorn observed as they drove slowly along the gravel between rows of RVs and motor homes hooked up to metal poles which provided electrical outlets, as well as vertical pipes connecting to a septic tank system. "Look, there's a laundromat and convenient mart. That sign says, 'Free Wi-Fi.' This place beats just sleeping by the side of the road."
"Over there," Megan pointed out, "that seems to be a small corner lot for trucks and vans. My conjecture is that we will find either Mr Gallows or Silent Pete there."
"Or both. Come on, Megs, pull over and let's go take a peek."
As she rolled into an open space just outside the truck section, the Trom Girl unclipped her beam projector from her belt. "I'm adjusting for medium intensity neural shock. Ashley, are you wearing the Trom armor under your clothes?"
"Oh, fer shure. What about you? Your arms are bare. You've got that T-shirt on."
Megan Salenger reached up into the armpits of her black T-shirt and tugged down two sleeves of what looked like wet grey silk which reached to her wrists. "I'm ready." She climbed out of the Jeep as Ashley was tying her long white hair back in a thick ponytail. The two KDF teammates strolled past scattered pick-up trucks and old vans and one panel truck that said NORTH COUNTRY PLUMBING AND HEATING on the side. In the farthest corner, hitched up to the final electrical outlet, was the red Dodge.
"Plates match," Unicorn said. "UMM-9953. See, I was paying attention."
The Trom Girl walked around the pick-up truck, seeing the open bed contained a sleeping bag and some general debris such as tools and loose beer cans. In the passenger side of the front seat was a shopping bag filled with groceries. The doors were looked. "This merits investigation," she began. "Let me get the door open and we'll search."
"Psst, Megan, someone is moving over in the trees over there."
Forty feet away, where white birch trees clustered before giving way to darker and thicker elms and oaks, a bulky figure did indeed stir. Both women automatically dropped their hands to their weapons as they went toward it.
"Something I can help you ladies with?" boomed a cordial voice from the shadows between the trees. A fat man well over six feet tall emerged and leered at them. He was wearing a glaringly bright Hawaiian shirt over cargo pants and hiking boots. The man himself had longish red hair and a short bristle of beard on a round face. Only the hooked beaky nose seemed out of place. He smiled in what he seemed to think was an ingratiating way.
"Boy, you've changed since your mug shots," Ashley chirped innocently. "You must have put on eighty pounds. The serial killer life agrees with you."
"What? Miss, have you been drinking?"
Megan noticed that they could not see the man's right hand, held slightly behind him. "Mr Gallows. Before we proceed any further, where is the man you call Silent Pete?"
"Heh, not nearly as silent as he will be in a few minutes," answered Simon Lee Kithcart. The next three seconds were a confused burst of deadly action. Gallows' arm swung up and the Browning in it blasted three times in close succession. All three shells smashed into Megan's chest and threw her backwards onto the dirt. In almost the same instant, before her friend actually hit the ground, Unicorn had drawn and fired her own weapon. The CO2 powered pistol spat a single long metal dart that jabbed deeply into Mr Gallow's chest through the thin material of his shirt. Reflexively, the serial killer slapped at the stinging pain, then sagged to his knees and fell on his face.
Scurrying to stand over the drugged man, Ashley kicked the automatic far away from his grip and satisfied herself with a glance he would be out of action for at least the next hour as the drug stayed in his system. She holstered her dart gun and knelt over the Trom Girl. "Megan! Hey, Megan, tell me you're all right!"
The Trom Girl coughed and groaned, tried to sit up and then stretched out again. "I'm... not seriously injured, Unicorn. The Trom armor disperses impact over its entire surface but some trace always gets through. My chest hurts but I am breathing normally." The second attempt found her sitting up with Ashley's hand supporting her behind the shoulders.
"You sure? He nailed you at point-blank range."
"I don't think there is any internal damage," Megan answered, rubbed the front of her torso gingerly. "My left breast is going to be bruised and sore."
Ashley snorted. "I'll tell Archie to take it easy when you get home. Hey, we seem to have captured Mr Gallows. Look, a crowd is gathering to cheer their heroes."
Sure enough, once it was clear there would be no further shooting, about a dozen campers were cautiously approaching. Megan had gotten to her feet with a little assistance and she held up her leather billfold to display her PI license.
"This man is a wanted fugitive!" she called out. "My partner and I are licensed investigators. We have placed him under arrest. One of you phone the State Police now."
"And listen, you guys," added Unicorn, "How about some of you start looking around for a man this perp was holding as a captive? Maybe in the woods over there?" Without waiting for anyone to join her, the little blonde headed into the trees from where Mr Gallows had emerged only a few minutes earlier.
With the man on the ground obviously incapacitated and the knowledge that Troopers were on the way, most of the crowd became bolder. Megan Salenger identified herself again as a Private Investigator from New York City and calmed everyone down with her easy command of the situation. Less than five minutes later, Ashley came out the woods, leading a dazed man by one hand.
"I've got 'im! Silent Pete, AKA Peter Buboltz. Seems like he was slipped a mickey of some kind to keep him easy to manage." She hauled the groggy man up to where Megan could identify him.
"Seven nooses in seven weeks," Buboltz mumbled. "He promised seven nooses in seven weeks..."
"You'll love this," Unicorn announced. "He was standing on a boulder with his hands tied around him and a noose around his neck. Mr Gallows was all set to send him to eternity where no one would witness it. Good thing we didn't leave Manhattan later than we did, Gallows would be on to killing the thief next."
With that, even Megan Salenger's life-long self-control frayed. The aching in her chest helped bring her to the point of snapping irritably, "Come on, Ashley. You're getting on my nerves. Why was a thief next? Where are you getting this idea?"
\
Smiling at the baffled crowd which had drawn closer, the Unicorn grinned as if completely satisfied. "See, the Trom never taught you nursery rhymes, Megan. You've never read Mother Goose at all, have you?"
"Of course not," said the Trom Girl. "Do you have a point?"
Ashley held up both hands in a placating gesture. "It's the pattern Mr Gallows needs to establish for his murders. Indian chief, lawyer, doctor, then thief. After that would be a beggar man, poor man and rich man. He was doing the nursery rhyme backwards, dear!"
10/19/2016
A Trom Girl/Unicorn Team-Up
5/11/2009
I.
Sunday morning at ten to seven, Archie McAllister was bent over the huge stack of the NEW YORK TIMES, the one newspaper he read each week. Sitting at the little round breakfast table by the kitchen window, he nibbled on the last piece of wheat toast with honey and tried to decide whether making fresh coffee was worth it. Archie was a big friendly bear of a man, comfortable in baggy T-shirt, dark blue jockey shorts and white cotton socks. He had skipped shaving the day before and had no intention of making up for it on his day off. The warm June sunlight slanting in through the window made him smile at the contrast as he struggled through an article about cod fishing in the frigid North Atlantic, a subject that he was not even vaguely interested in.
Through the open curtains to his right, Archie spotted a silver Accord skid to a halt not three inches behind the rear bumper of Megan's beloved cherry-red Jeep Cherokee. From behind the wheel, a petite blonde with shiny platinum-white hair leaped out and stood talking on her phone in the driveway. She was wearing all white as usual... ankle boots, jeans and long-sleeved crewneck pullover, and in the bright May sunlight she almost glowed.
"Megan? Here comes trouble!" he called out.
From the adjoining room, the normally controlled, subdued voice of Megan Salenger grumbled, "Not Unicorn!"
"You got it," he answered with a grin. A second later, Megan entered the kitchen in her gold-colored terrycloth robe and fuzzy slippers. Her mop of thick black hair was still damp from the shower. The Trom Girl was just over thirty years old, alert and energetic even caught unawares at this hour. She had been a Human orphan raised by the Trom to be a liaison between the two Races. Her romance with Archie had strengthened into a solid relationship that had surprised both her Trom superiors and her friends with the KDF. No one had expected her to fall in love, least of all herself.
Leaning over the breakfast table to peer out the window, despite her grumpinesss Megan still could not repress a smile as she watched the little blonde gallop up to their front door. She had never shared Ashley's enthusiasm for excitement and she sometimes wistfully envied it. Even as the doorbell rang, the Trom Girl had her hand on the inner handle and was opening the door.
"Hi, Megan, Megan!" blurted Ashley. "Something's UP!"
"Good morning, Unicorn. What did we agree about phoning first, especially early in the morning?"
"Oh. Right. Sorry," Ashley Whitaker said, even though she barged past Megan as if she had been invited in. "But I'm onto something important here. Three murders already and I am sure there are four more planned. Hey there, Archie!" she called with a cheerful wave.
"Hi, Ashley," replied the big man, going back to his newspaper placidly.
"Listen," said the blonde, seizing Megan by both arms. "Sable has the team in Signarm for something dumb, some conference between the barons there. It's up to us. The thief will be killed next."
The Trom Girl gave up on understanding or resisting. "Well, I am on reserve duty but I do remain on call. Give me some little scrap of data so I know what you are talking about."
"This is one of those serial killers who act out a set pattern. You know, like how Samhain murdered some astronomers using weapons based on the names of planets? Or how Sepulchre killed five women named after months? I just figured it out. The thief is next!"
Giving Archie a shrug which he returned, Megan said, "Let me change, okay?" She hurried out of the kitchen.
Left behind, Ashley plopped down into the chair next to Archie and used a voice that could have been poured on French Toast. "You don't mind if I borrow your girlfriend for the day, DOOO you Archibald?"
"You're wasting the charm on me, honey," he said. "We didn't have any plans for today other than cleaning up around the house. If Megan decides to go on a mystery with you, I'd be okay with napping on the couch and watching TV."
"Eating nachos and drinking beer, maybe?" she asked.
"Somebody's got to do it," Archie said. "Whatever happened to you and that boy, Cory whatever?"
"Cory Adams," she said. "We're getting serious. We decided to try and do some babymaking. My mom always craved grandchildren, and me and Cory both like the idea. I'm an only child. Mom always said one of me was more than enough."
"Maybe it'll be a little girl to take over as the third Unicorn when you get old," Megan offered from the doorway. She had changed into sneakers, blue jeans and a black T-shirt with an open denim vest. In one hand, she clutched a travel bag containing her field suit and equipment.
"Worth a try," Ashley grinned. "Come on, come on, we have to get up to Lake George today. Let's use your Jeep, I'm sure it's already stocked up, with a full gas tank and the tires all checked and like that. Let's go."
Megan Salenger gave in. She went over and kissed Archie. "Sorry, my love, you see what I'm dealing with? How can I refuse this fireball?"
Archie rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. "It's fine with me. You haven't been on a case in quite a while, come to think of it. And you may not admit it, but I think you love the suspense and danger as much as Unicorn does."
As the two women headed out the front door and Archie got up to brew more coffee, he heard Ashley chirping excitedly, "There's this absolute nut calling himself Mr Gallows..."
II.
The driving time nonstop from White Plains to Lake George should have been about three and a half hours, but the two teammates stopped at the halfway point for a forty minute lunch at a Mexican roadside eatery. They had been catching up on their personal lives and gossip about the Teachers at Tel Shai, rumors of a new member or two for the Kenneth Dred Foundation, and what Jeremy Bane had been up to at the Dire Wolf Agency. Now, as Megan Salenger toyed with the last of her Chicken Tostadas, she gazed over at Ashley and said, "Now might be a good time to start talking about the case you have asked me to help with."
Unicorn wiped her lips with a napkin and looked up. "Eh? Oh sure. You know, I really don't like fish tacos, Baja style or not. Last time I'm gonna try them. Okay. Have you ever heard of Mr Gallows?"
"Never. Is he in our KDF files?"
"I could only find one little reference. Maybe you might find something in the filing cabinets with all the newspaper clippings, but he's not in our computer records. We never actually crossed paths with him. He's a certified lunatic. His real name seems to be Simon Lee Kithcart, age sixty-two. He's been put away a few times, escaped twice. Six months ago, he was transferred to a medium security facility in Georgia and sure enough somehow he got away again. They think he bribed a guard to smuggle him out and then killed the guard."
The Trom Girl frowned in her barely perceptible way. "What exactly are his crimes?"
"Bad ones. Twenty-three murders that we know of since 1998, with maybe a few more that haven't been discovered. Kitchcart showed classic signs of mental illness as a child, but his parents refused to face it and covered up for him until he was well into his teens. Somewhere he developed an obsession with hangmen and executions by hanging. Most of his killings involve getting a noose around someone's neck and dropping them a few feet. He's crazy as a sack full of weasels but he's not so far gone that he can't cover his tracks. It's just been luck that he's been caught even a few times."
Megan watched her friend with a sort of apalled fascination. It always amazed her that such a pretty young blonde, who looked as if she would be interested in nothing more stressful than shopping for handbags, should be so comfortable with crimes of violence. But then, Ashley had been raised from birth by her mother, the original Unicorn, for a career as an adventuress in the Midnight War. "I see. What initially put you on his trail, Ashley?"
Unicorn inspected her plate as if hoping she had missed a scrap somehow. "Hmm. Yeah, you know Jeremy has been forwarding a lot of the tips he gets on Midnight War stuff to us. Sable has me sorting it out sometimes into different categories to consider acting on."
"Go on."
"Okay then. Almost a month ago, a man was found hanged in his suite at an Atlantic City casino. He had a hemp rope in a proper hangman's noose around his neck. A chair had been kicked out from under him, and it was thought to be suicide but I got one of my amazing hunches that no one takes seriously until they're proven absolutely right. The victim was Chief Joseph Williams, full-blooded Mohawk from upstate. Around here, in fact." The blonde got the last drop from her cup of chai and paused.
"We should proceed on our way," Megan said, pushing her chair back. "You know, Ashley, maybe I don't always show it but I appreciate you asking me to assist with cases like this. Archie tells me I still need to work on social graces."
"I know ya love me." Getting the bill from the waitress, Unicorn folded money onto it and stood up. "Seeing you were raised by the Trom, it's a wonder you don't talk like a robot. I think your Human side has really come out since you started seeing Archie." She started heading for the door. "Where was I? Oh, yeah. The Indian chief who was hanged in a casino. I thought it was a bit bizarre but not really signicant until the NEXT hanging death a week later."
They headed outside to the Jeep. "Let me drive for a while, Megan? I want you to do some research on your Link as we go."
"All right," the Trom Girl replied without notable enthusiasm. As she swung up into the passenger seat, she asked, "What were you saying about the second death?"
"That was an attorney in Pennsylvania. Guy named Irwin Canby, headed his own law firm. He was found in a motel room outside Allentown, with a rope around his neck the same way. That made the news all right. Even CNN covered the two deaths with their similarities. But we knew something the media didn't. Canby had a connection with Mr Gallows from ten years ago, a secret deal that tried for a plea bargain. The deal didn't go through and Gallows went to the house of the slamming metal doors."
They were heading north again on the Thruway. Megan began to relax a little as she found Ashley was a more careful driver than she remembered. "Was there a connection between Chief Joseph and this Mr Gallows, then?"
"You bet your IQ," Unicorn said. "Listen. This was not public record, I only found out by digging through police records." She cleared her throat dramatically. "Kinda bending a few rules doing that. But anyway, Chief Joseph was approached by Mr Gallows to use the Utopia Casino to launder some hot money. The chief turned Gallows down flat and they never spoke again as far as anyone knows."
After a few seconds of reflection, Megan said, "I just do not understand why these murderers stick to such inflexible methods. If he had use any other weapon than a noose, there would be no link to be found. It's not intelligent to be so predictable."
"Exactly!" shouted Unicorn with a zeal that made Megan give a start. "These whackos are acting under compulsion, Trom Girl. In some ways, they don't have a choice. Using anything other than a rope would not work for Mr Gallows. It's his thing, it's what drives him."
"I suppose," Megan conceded. "It seems much of Human behavior will never be clear to me. You said we have to intervene before a fourth murder. Who was the third, then?"
"Right, that was Gallows' acquaintaince through the underworld, Dr Bradley Farrell. Two Rs, two Ls. He was a reconstructive facial surgeon. Mr Gallows offered him a huge sum for a new face. Not that I blame him for asking, Gallows has a puss like a vulture, wait'll you see him. Farrell absolutely refused and threw the maniac out of his office despite some bloodcurdling threats. Five days ago, you guessed it, Farrell's wife discovered him dangling in their garage from a noose."
Leaning back in the passenger seat, the Trom Girl watched her teammate with an appreciative smile. "What seems obvious is that the three victims were men who had rejected overtures from Mr Gallows. One conjecture might be that he blames his captures and time lost in prison against these men because they would not help him." She tapped her chin with one slim index finger and continued, "Is there another element to a pattern?"
"Really?" asked Unicorn. "You don't see it? Sometimes I wonder about you, Megan. Listen, I only got so far in my research. I'm not good with computers and hacking into locked files, let's face it. Heck, half the time I forget how to log into Facebook. But you're the genuine super-genius. You can get into anything from the Chinese secret police payroll to what the guys guarding the nuclear silos in Kansas eat for breakfast."
Megan Salenger was not sure how to respond to these unlikely compliments. "If... you say so." She unclipped a flat electronic device from her belt under the denim vest. "I have my Link ready."
"We need the current address of a guy known as Silent Pete," Unicorn said, cutting off a Ford Explorer as she unexpectedly changed lanes and missed him by inches at seventy-five miles per hour.
"What was that driver honking his horn at?" asked Trom Girl, glancing up from the screen on her device.
"Who knows? Maybe he thinks we're pretty. Our candidate's real name is Peter John Buboltz. Established burglar and pickpocket. He's the thief in the pattern." Ashley abruptly swung hard right to zip into the parking lot of a rest stop with a gas station, Roy Rogers restaurant and gift shop. "Whoa, hang a roger, I don't want to miss the next exit."
Holding onto the dashboard with her free hand at the sudden swerve, Megan lowered the Link and gave Unicorn a sour expression. "I think I should take over the driving again, my friend."
"Why? Anyway, how's the search going?"
"This will take a few minutes," Megan answered. "We'll start with FBI records and New York State Trooper files. There, those searches are running. Nothing yet.. their firewalls have improved but I can still enter between the strata." Her dark eyes were even more serious than usual. Trom Girl had an inquisitive, foxlike face with a pointed nose and her hair was tousled from riding with the windows down in the Jeep as they had bombed along. Her eyebrows lowered down as she became lost in data.
"I love watching you concentrate," Ashley said. "I can almost hear the little wheels spinning in your head."
"A dubious compliment, at best. There we go, I have an address for a man of that name. Aged forty-six. Three convictions for petty larceny, driver's license suspended for DUIs. Known associate of Simon Lee Kithcart AKA Mr Gallows. According to rental records of private companies, he is now staying at the Ko-Zee RV Park twelve miles ahead of us in a Dodge pick-up truck, plates UMM-9953. Is that enough information to begin?" she asked seriously.
"Are you kidding? I tried for three days to find any of that dirt and you dig it up sitting in a parking lot within two minutes." Unicorn opened her door. "I need a bathroom break before my kidneys burst."
"I'll wait here," the Trom Girl told her. "My search is still obtaining results. Kithcart has been known to carry a 9mm pistol concealed on his person..."
"Be right back," said Unicorn, hopping out and hurrying across the hot asphalt.
III.
Left alone in her Jeep Cherokee, the Trom Girl got out and crossed around in front to climb up into the driver's seat. Even distracted by working on the Link search, she could not avoid noticing how Unicorn's driving had been getting less responsible as the little blonde grew excited. She sighed and patched into conventional phone networks to call Archie.
"Hi? Hey, love. Unicorn and I are up near Lake George after all this driving. We're trying to reach a potential murder victim in time to warn him. She is certainly enjoying herself. What's going on at home?"
"Nothing nearly as exciting," Archie's voice answered. "I'm back at the kitchen table with the SUNDAY TIMES crossword puzzle. I don't expect to ever finish one of these but at least I put up a struggle. Who's Rutherford and what kind of life would he be satisfied with?"
Megan allowed a smile on her face. "That would be Ernest Rutherford, a New Zealand physicist. He discovered the concept of radioactive half-life."
"Hmmm. Yeah. That makes 87 Down 'eucalyptus.' It fits. Thanks, hon. You know, usually when you two gals have a team-up, there's no telling what might happen. Be careful, Unicorn is not exactly level-headed."
"True words, indeed. Enjoy your day off, my dear. You have been working overtime lately."
"I've also got two baskets of laundry going down in the basement," he said. "They'll be dried and folded before you and your wild little pal get back home."
"Oh, thank you. It was my turn. I love you, Archie, I will see you soon."
"Right back at you, Trom Girl. What's a seven-letter word for indeterminate?"
"The point of a crossword puzzle is to exercize your own brain, Archie. Here she comes, I'll call you later." Megan broke the connection as Ashley Whitaker dove into the passenger seat with a flimsy yellow plastic bag.
"I snagged a few treats to reward us for being so brave and dedicated," she explained. "Giant-size KitKat bars, Tobasco Slim Jims, big bag of Sea Salt air-popped popcorn, unsalted cashews..."
Megan tried to keep her voice stern but faltered. "I do not normally allow eating within my vehicle to keep it neat," she said. "However, I do enjoy those KitKat bars and will take one."
Digging into a spicy stick of dried meat packed with salt and preservatives, the Unicorn said, "It looks like we'll get off Exit 20 a mile or two ahead and go for this RV park. So far, Mr Gallows has struck on either the seventh or the eighth day after the previous murder, so we might have up to forty-eight hours to stop him."
Cleaning her fingers with a little alcohol swab from the car door pocket, Trom Girl said, "Following the pattern, I assume that our suspect feels that this thief let him down and deserves to be killed."
"That's about it," Unicorn said. "Let's roll, Megs. Mr Gallows has got an ticking time bomb inside his brain, emotionally anyway, and every now and then he simply has to explode and take a few people with him. After he killed the doctor, of course the thief is next."
"I'm puzzled by that remark."
After they waited for an 18-wheeler to roar by, Megan pulled out on I-87 and Unicorn gleefully teased her, "All will be made clear. It's so rare I know something you don't." Leaning over to fuss with the gear stowed on the back seat, she said, "I brought my Unicorn horn of course, but honestly I don't know if it will be any use. Mr Gallows doesn't have any gralic powers to disrupt. This might be where the dart guns are our best bet."
Getting off at Exit 20, they made a loop and soon found the Ko-Zee RV Park by the side of the road. "Not bad really," Unicorn observed as they drove slowly along the gravel between rows of RVs and motor homes hooked up to metal poles which provided electrical outlets, as well as vertical pipes connecting to a septic tank system. "Look, there's a laundromat and convenient mart. That sign says, 'Free Wi-Fi.' This place beats just sleeping by the side of the road."
"Over there," Megan pointed out, "that seems to be a small corner lot for trucks and vans. My conjecture is that we will find either Mr Gallows or Silent Pete there."
"Or both. Come on, Megs, pull over and let's go take a peek."
As she rolled into an open space just outside the truck section, the Trom Girl unclipped her beam projector from her belt. "I'm adjusting for medium intensity neural shock. Ashley, are you wearing the Trom armor under your clothes?"
"Oh, fer shure. What about you? Your arms are bare. You've got that T-shirt on."
Megan Salenger reached up into the armpits of her black T-shirt and tugged down two sleeves of what looked like wet grey silk which reached to her wrists. "I'm ready." She climbed out of the Jeep as Ashley was tying her long white hair back in a thick ponytail. The two KDF teammates strolled past scattered pick-up trucks and old vans and one panel truck that said NORTH COUNTRY PLUMBING AND HEATING on the side. In the farthest corner, hitched up to the final electrical outlet, was the red Dodge.
"Plates match," Unicorn said. "UMM-9953. See, I was paying attention."
The Trom Girl walked around the pick-up truck, seeing the open bed contained a sleeping bag and some general debris such as tools and loose beer cans. In the passenger side of the front seat was a shopping bag filled with groceries. The doors were looked. "This merits investigation," she began. "Let me get the door open and we'll search."
"Psst, Megan, someone is moving over in the trees over there."
Forty feet away, where white birch trees clustered before giving way to darker and thicker elms and oaks, a bulky figure did indeed stir. Both women automatically dropped their hands to their weapons as they went toward it.
"Something I can help you ladies with?" boomed a cordial voice from the shadows between the trees. A fat man well over six feet tall emerged and leered at them. He was wearing a glaringly bright Hawaiian shirt over cargo pants and hiking boots. The man himself had longish red hair and a short bristle of beard on a round face. Only the hooked beaky nose seemed out of place. He smiled in what he seemed to think was an ingratiating way.
"Boy, you've changed since your mug shots," Ashley chirped innocently. "You must have put on eighty pounds. The serial killer life agrees with you."
"What? Miss, have you been drinking?"
Megan noticed that they could not see the man's right hand, held slightly behind him. "Mr Gallows. Before we proceed any further, where is the man you call Silent Pete?"
"Heh, not nearly as silent as he will be in a few minutes," answered Simon Lee Kithcart. The next three seconds were a confused burst of deadly action. Gallows' arm swung up and the Browning in it blasted three times in close succession. All three shells smashed into Megan's chest and threw her backwards onto the dirt. In almost the same instant, before her friend actually hit the ground, Unicorn had drawn and fired her own weapon. The CO2 powered pistol spat a single long metal dart that jabbed deeply into Mr Gallow's chest through the thin material of his shirt. Reflexively, the serial killer slapped at the stinging pain, then sagged to his knees and fell on his face.
Scurrying to stand over the drugged man, Ashley kicked the automatic far away from his grip and satisfied herself with a glance he would be out of action for at least the next hour as the drug stayed in his system. She holstered her dart gun and knelt over the Trom Girl. "Megan! Hey, Megan, tell me you're all right!"
The Trom Girl coughed and groaned, tried to sit up and then stretched out again. "I'm... not seriously injured, Unicorn. The Trom armor disperses impact over its entire surface but some trace always gets through. My chest hurts but I am breathing normally." The second attempt found her sitting up with Ashley's hand supporting her behind the shoulders.
"You sure? He nailed you at point-blank range."
"I don't think there is any internal damage," Megan answered, rubbed the front of her torso gingerly. "My left breast is going to be bruised and sore."
Ashley snorted. "I'll tell Archie to take it easy when you get home. Hey, we seem to have captured Mr Gallows. Look, a crowd is gathering to cheer their heroes."
Sure enough, once it was clear there would be no further shooting, about a dozen campers were cautiously approaching. Megan had gotten to her feet with a little assistance and she held up her leather billfold to display her PI license.
"This man is a wanted fugitive!" she called out. "My partner and I are licensed investigators. We have placed him under arrest. One of you phone the State Police now."
"And listen, you guys," added Unicorn, "How about some of you start looking around for a man this perp was holding as a captive? Maybe in the woods over there?" Without waiting for anyone to join her, the little blonde headed into the trees from where Mr Gallows had emerged only a few minutes earlier.
With the man on the ground obviously incapacitated and the knowledge that Troopers were on the way, most of the crowd became bolder. Megan Salenger identified herself again as a Private Investigator from New York City and calmed everyone down with her easy command of the situation. Less than five minutes later, Ashley came out the woods, leading a dazed man by one hand.
"I've got 'im! Silent Pete, AKA Peter Buboltz. Seems like he was slipped a mickey of some kind to keep him easy to manage." She hauled the groggy man up to where Megan could identify him.
"Seven nooses in seven weeks," Buboltz mumbled. "He promised seven nooses in seven weeks..."
"You'll love this," Unicorn announced. "He was standing on a boulder with his hands tied around him and a noose around his neck. Mr Gallows was all set to send him to eternity where no one would witness it. Good thing we didn't leave Manhattan later than we did, Gallows would be on to killing the thief next."
With that, even Megan Salenger's life-long self-control frayed. The aching in her chest helped bring her to the point of snapping irritably, "Come on, Ashley. You're getting on my nerves. Why was a thief next? Where are you getting this idea?"
\
Smiling at the baffled crowd which had drawn closer, the Unicorn grinned as if completely satisfied. "See, the Trom never taught you nursery rhymes, Megan. You've never read Mother Goose at all, have you?"
"Of course not," said the Trom Girl. "Do you have a point?"
Ashley held up both hands in a placating gesture. "It's the pattern Mr Gallows needs to establish for his murders. Indian chief, lawyer, doctor, then thief. After that would be a beggar man, poor man and rich man. He was doing the nursery rhyme backwards, dear!"
10/19/2016
