An Unkindness of Ravens Page 16

  “This is so great,” Sarah said, “What’s the next step?”

  “They said they will give him a few days to build up some strength before they run any new testing on him, but they think it looks extremely positive.”

  “Extremely positive, what language they use,” Sarah mocked. Tara laughed.

  “I’m just so happy,” she said. “I know there’s still a way to go, but I can see him in there Sarah. I know in my heart he’s going to be fine.”

  “He’s a tough one,” Sarah said, a tear in her own eye at Tara’s happiness.

  “Now the real battle is going to begin for me,” Tara said then and her voice had lost some of the joy.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Making sure he never goes back to the FBI,” Tara said. Sarah was about to laugh and say ‘are you serious,’ but there was no doubting from Tara’s tone how serious she was.

  “That’s going to be a battle I think,” Sarah agreed, “But if anyone can win it, I'm sure it’s you.” It sounded corny, but it seemed to be what Tara wanted to hear.

  “Thanks. Sarah, can you do me a favour and not try to lure him back there?” There was a lighter lilt to her voice, but Sarah knew this was what Tara really wanted and she was fine giving in on that. For now.

  “Sure,” she said.

  When this call was over, Sarah couldn’t stop smiling. She’d told herself all along that Malick was going to be fine, but now that he was awake and on the mend, she knew for the first time how worried she’d been and how well she’d hidden it from herself. It was a scary talent to have.

  Talking to Tara had also made Sarah acutely aware of her own current singledom. Marcus had not tried to call her once since leaving. She hadn’t tried calling him either, but she was busy... There you go again, she scolded, always the job. She dialled Marcus’ number and waited. It rang for a long time but never went to voicemail. She ended the call. Probably best she didn’t have to leave a message as she had no idea what she would have said. It felt good to call him though, and now he would see that call and the ball would be in his court. She was sure he’d ring her back.

  Chapter 35

  Heavy rain was falling when Tyler got off the plane in California. This was not what he’d been expecting, even in February. He rented a car at the airport and drove to the shoddy inn that would be his home for a few days while he interviewed Stewart Spekler. The room was a little better than he expected and the bed would do fine. There was a bar attached to the inn, and Tyler went in and grabbed a couple of burgers and a beer before going back to his room.

  Taking out his laptop, he started looking over the questions he had in mind to ask Spekler when they met the next morning. There were a lot, and each question had a few followup questions which would depend on how - or if - the first had been answered. Tyler was worried that this would turn out to be a bust, that Spekler wouldn't answer anything and he just wanted to talk himself up, or worse still try to deny everything that had been proved against him. One thing was for sure, Spekler was doing this for his own sake.

  Family members of his victims had called the office of ‘The Baltimore Echo’ to decry anyone interviewing the man who had killed someone they loved. Tyler could understand their feelings, but he also knew that if he didn’t do it, somebody else would and the story would get away from him.

  Sarah came to mind and he wondered how or when he’d work in the questions she wanted asked. It would depend on how the interview was going, something like that could turn him cold and shut the whole thing down if Tyler wasn’t careful.

  While he had the laptop open, he decided to have a look at the blog to see if anything more had been updated. He was having trouble loading the page, but from what he could see it hadn’t changed yet. Tyler called Danny and asked him to keep an eye on it and call him if it changed - he didn’t want to be at the mercy of the crappy internet in this inn.

  In the morning Tyler ate breakfast at the inn and then left for the prison right away. It was an hour’s drive, and on the way he tried to recall as much of Spekler’s case as he could. He didn’t want to be wasting time checking through his notes once inside the prison.

  The prison was an imposing place, three high chain link fences with razor wire on top surrounded a main compound with a concrete wall and what looked like a sheet metal barrier before finally getting to the building itself.

  Inside, Tyler was greeted by a guard carrying a shotgun, and he had to endure a list of rules and sign six waivers so the prison couldn’t be held liable if a riot broke out or Spekler managed to get free and kill him or take him hostage. Tyler signed them all; he didn’t think anything bad was going to happen here. There was a reason people like Spekler were not in county jails. This place was tight and the guards had firm control at all times.

  Tyler was brought inside and frisked down and his file run through. The guard then passed him off to another who took him through a series of gates. Every single person he saw - all of them guards - were stiff lipped and unsmiling. The place was deathly silent.

  “He’s in there waiting for you,” the guard said, finally stopping at a door. “I’ll be right outside. If you need me, call. There are cameras in the room so we can see everything that is going on. The inmate is chained to the table, but he is able to stand up and move a foot to either side. You must stay on your side of the table and don’t lean over to give him anything at all. If you break any of the rules, the interview is over immediately and your guest status is revoked.” Tyler nodded.

  Stewart ‘The Spider’ Spekler stood up when the door opened and Tyler came inside. He was tall, six foot five, and thin framed. Based on the photographs Tyler had seen, it looked like the killer had bulked up somewhat since entering prison. He looked strong and healthy, and out on the street in this shape he would be a serious danger to anyone.

  “Tyler Ford,” he said, smiling, “I’d shake your hand, but they won’t let me!” he laughed at his little joke.

  “Thanks for granting me these interviews,” Tyler said, walking to the table and putting his files down. He took out his digital recorder and showed it to Spekler, “Is it ok to use this?”

  “Sure,” he said, “Take a seat.”

  They both sat down and regarded one another a moment. “What exercise do you do?” Spekler asked him.

  “Some running, cycling, weights now and then,” Tyler shrugged.

  “You look like you’re in good shape.”

  “Thanks, you look like you’ve been working out yourself.”

  “Just weights and crunches and that, not a lot you can do in here. I’d love to be able to go for a run in the forest or by a river or something.” Tyler nodded, knowing this could never be. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Spekler had also pretty much just described where Tyler lived. Did he know this information?

  “So, how about we start with you telling me why you wanted to do these interviews in the first place?” Tyler said.

  “Nah, I think we can come to that later,” Spekler smiled, “What else you got in your file there. Ask me a juicy one, I’ll answer anything.”

  “OK,” Tyler pursed his lips and decided he’d call Spekler’s bluff good and early, “How many people have you killed that you have not been sentenced for?” Spekler’s eyes grew wide and his grin even wider. He laughed and wagged a finger at Tyler,

  “Man, you’re getting into it right off the bat!” Tyler smiled and nodded. “Four or five,” Spekler said,

  “Which is it?”

  “Five,” Spekler’s grin was both evil and pleased at once. Tyler’s interview was already a huge success - this was a major coup already to get this information - assuming of course he was telling the truth. Tyler could feel that he was though.

  “How come you got away with those ones?” Tyler asked.

  “They were at the start and I did things differently when I started out, before I found a way that suited me.”

  “Who were they?”

  “Linda Martin,
Barry Scott, Alvin Butler, Rachel Quells and Ben Teeler. You can look up the papers to find out more about those, but I don’t want to talk about them anymore here.”

  “One more question on those,” Tyler pressed, “Did you know their names before you killed then?”

  “No,” Spekler gave him a knowing smile, a face that said you know what I’m talking about. Tyler scribbled down the names and said,

  “Fine, we move on from here.”

  “Right, throw something else at me.”

  “What’s your deepest regret?” The smile dropped from Spekler’s face at this question and he sat back like he’d been wounded. His face took on the expression of deep thought. Tyler studied his face, wondering if it was for real.

  “Killing the young girl, Sophie,” he said. “That wasn’t supposed to happen, but she came in at the wrong time and she saw me. I had no choice when that happened.”

  “Did you speak to her before she died?”

  “No,” now he looked genuinely upset, “I was going to say something to try calm her, to make her think it was going to be alright, but in the moment I just did it.”

  “Broke her neck,” Tyler said.

  “Yes, one twist and she was gone.”

  “Is there anything you’d like to say to her family?” Spekler shook his head.

  “OK, let’s move on again. What else you got?” he said.

  Tyler thought about this a moment, and seeing as how quick fire Spekler seemed to want things to run, he supposed now was the time to see if he wanted to say anything about ‘John the Baptist.’ If he didn’t want to, they could move right along onto something else and he could tell Sarah he’d tried.

  “What do you think about what’s going on in Virginia right now?” Tyler said.

  “You mean the serial killer there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you know what, that one is something of a rarity in itself,” Spekler smiled.

  “How so?”

  “Don’t you see it?” Spekler asked like Tyler was missing something very obvious.

  “No, what is it?”

  “This is a very rare example of a serial killer choosing victims outside of his own ethnicity.”

  “How do you make that leap?”

  “I’m not here to explain it all to you, but you can be rest assured that when this guy is caught, he’s going to be a black man!” Tyler didn’t think this was going to be the case, and had no idea why Spekler might.

  “Any idea why he cleans the bodies, or takes the fingers?”

  “Fingers are just his trophies; I bet he keeps them someplace safe,” Spekler said, smiling, making Tyler think he too had something of his victims put away somewhere that had never been found. “As for the cleaning, who the hell knows! Seems like a lot of work, so it must mean something to him I guess.”

  “I guess so,” Tyler agreed and then once more Spekler changed the conversation and he just had to go along with it.

  Chapter 36

  When Sarah got the message from Tyler about Spekler’s thoughts on ‘John the Baptist’, she was at first let down, thinking it couldn’t be the case, but then felt it would be best to make sure no one had slipped through the net based on the fact that all of the profiles created for the killer were white males. She pressed Tyler about his interview, but he was giving nothing away and said that the black man hint and the fact the fingers were kept as trophies was all Spekler was willing to say on the matter. It was annoying, but she supposed she hadn’t expected much in the first place; it had always been a long shot. Though, if this turned out to be true, it would be quite a story.

  Sarah felt uneasy looking through all the people interviewed about the murders so far. It felt odd to be looking specifically for a black man, like it was something she shouldn’t be doing and that would cause outrage if it was known to the public.

  There didn’t seem to be much at all. In fact the only people she could find on record who were black was a woman who saw Tyler in the coffee shop near Whitney State forest on the day Elizabeth Barker was found, and a seventy-eight-year-old man who was sure his young neighbour was the killer and had come to the police about it. The neighbor turned out to be a fourteen-year-old boy who played heavy metal music and was scared to death when the police came calling at his door.

  The killer wasn’t a black man. She hadn’t thought so before and she had no reason to change her mind now. Why would Spekler say it, though? She tapped her forehead to get this line of thought out. Why did these killers do anything? It was for his own entertainment, or on a whim, to who knew why else, but one thing was for sure, it wasn't based on any fact or evidence at all. What had she been doing even checking it out?

  “Because it's your job,” she said aloud. You have to rule things out, even if they don’t seem likely, and you don’t get to choose what those things are. This came up in the course of the case, and now she’d done her due diligence and she was back where she was a couple of hours ago. Spekler was full of shit.

  Her cell phone rang and she picked it up, thinking it was going to be Tyler again telling her something else, but the name on the screen was Marcus!

  “Hey,” she answered, it had been longer than she would have hoped since she called him.

  “Hi,” he said, she found it hard to read his tone with that one word. “I saw you called?” Still nothing.

  “Yeah, I did,” Sarah said, “I...” She what? What was she going to say to him when she called him? I miss you? I don’t like how we left it?

  “You still there?”

  “Yes, sorry,” she said, “I just wanted to talk. I didn’t like how we left things.”

  “I didn’t like it either,” he said - a ray of hope, “But it’s probably for the best.” The light erased. She nodded, though, and of course he couldn’t see this, with a tear running down her cheek.

  “You don’t miss me at all?” she asked and she regretted that weakness at once.

  “Let’s not do this again,” he sighed.

  “Why did you call me back?” she asked, her voice tinged with anger now, though she knew it was more at herself than him.

  “You called me; I was returning your call.” Sarah took in a deep breath before saying anything else. This is over, she thought, there’s no need to prolong it anymore.

  “So this is final,” she said, her throat betraying her once more as a lump filled it, more tears looking to fall.

  “I think so,” he said, and part of her wanted to tear into him for not being more conclusive, but she knew this was it so she held back one last time. “I gotta go,” he said, filling a long beat, “Take care of yourself.”

  “See ya,” she said when nothing magnanimous would come to mind. She hung up with the tone of finality in the air around her. That was the end of that.

  After leaving the office, Sarah headed for home, stopping off at the bar for a drink. Sitting at the bar nursing a beer she recalled this was where Tyler had first approached her. She looked around as though he might somehow be here despite knowing he was in California right now.

  What would she do if he was here? He was very attractive and as far as she knew he was single. Would they end up in bed together tonight, a one off perhaps? She wondered if he had thought of her in this way. The idea had crossed her own mind once or twice, but it wasn’t like she had a crush or anything silly like that. There was something about him, something different that she couldn't put her finger on. A mystery to be solved, was that it?

  Then a more sinister thought came to her - could it be that Tyler was ‘John the Baptist’? Who was to say after all that he hadn’t posted those letters to himself? His were the only fingerprints she’d found on the envelope. What about the phone call he said he’d received? Well, that might not have even happened. Because of the secrecy between them, she hadn’t been able to get anyone to go in and check his phone records, and she didn’t have the time for a job like that herself while all this was going on. Maybe it was time to get someone els
e in on what she was doing. But who?

  The sudden laugh that erupted from her was like a jolt, and the barman looked at her askance like she’d had too many despite this being her first drink. She held a hand up in apology and he went back to reading the sports pages.

  What are you thinking! She thought, Tyler Ford was a serial killer while also covering the case for his newspaper - that sounded like something out of a bad movie! I think it’s time you got some sleep, crazy lady. She put the bottle down with a small amount remaining and left.

  The apartment felt new again. The old feeling of Marcus living here was gone, but now too was the more recent feeling that Marcus could someday live here again. Now it was her place, and only her place. Sarah’s Solitude Salon. It was a sad feeling and she felt fresh tears dribble down her cheeks. Was she ever going to be able to do the relationship thing in the right way? Or was she going to be terminally alone because she couldn't let go of what had happened to her mother?

  Sarah took a shower, a place she always felt better no matter what was going on. There was something about the feeling of the hot water on her skin, and the freedom of being naked that took her mind away from the world and into thoughts she couldn’t ever quite assemble together. Oftentimes in the past she had spent a full half hour in there, but most often the hot water would run out before she was ready to get out. It was the closest thing she had to a happy place. There she was alone and being alone there didn’t matter like it did everywhere else in the world.

  Chapter 37

  When Tyler Ford finished listening to his first interview with Stewart ‘The Spider’ Spekler for the third time that day, making fresh notes on each listen, he called Danny Kircheck to see if there was anything going on he wasn't aware of yet. The internet in the inn was worse than he’d expected and there were frequent drops in service, meaning internet pages were taking forever to load or else only cached pages came up with old information.