Oliver Stark - American Devil

Anthony had got in somehow. Maybe he was planning something special. ‘Is that you?’ she called.

She walked towards the bedroom. The phone started ringing and she hesitated, but then she saw it. The bed had been turned down and a small box lay on the pillow. It looked like the kind of box you’d put a ring in. A dress was all laid out. Was this Anthony’s big secret? Was he going to propose?

From inside the wardrobe, the killer watched her. Beauty and wealth were so strange, so very strange. You could see them, but you couldn’t ever grasp them in your hand. They were in her, somewhere. He was going to find out where.

She opened the lid of the black velvet box, and her smile drained away. An eye stared back at her. He had decided to use one of Mary-Jane’s eyeballs. Elizabeth suddenly felt terribly vulnerable, a feeling she’d not experienced before. Her legs began to shake. She couldn’t move as the door of the wardrobe opened. She couldn’t move at all. He appeared and stood before her. Over six feet and holding something that shimmered and caught the light. She held up her hand, open-palmed in a gesture of conciliation, as if that tiny little protest would be enough to stop the American Devil.

He walked up to her and put his other hand out to touch her golden hair.

‘Remember me?’ he said.

Elizabeth recoiled from his touch, her body frozen in shock, her eyes staring at the blade he held by her cheek.

‘You’re just perfect,’ said the killer. ‘I watched you for a long, long time, Elizabeth. I need you to cooperate with me. We haven’t got much time.’

Oliver Stark

American Devil

The Laker Building

November 20, 11.16 p.m.

The crossroads outside the Laker Building were burning with flashing light, but there wasn’t a siren going. The dispatcher had called all patrol cars to go silent to the glitzy building overlooking Central Park. There were seventeen cars parked at angles within ten minutes of the call. Several squad cars, Dodges and Chevrolets were kerb-parked forming a semicircle around the entrance to the building. The Emergency Service Unit Hummers were just beyond. Uniforms were keeping the civilians away. This was the one. The big endgame.

As Harper and Kasper pulled up, the enormous SWAT trucks arrived. They’d got a team together in advance, just in case, and the squad was jumping out of the back of each truck in their black armour and helmets. They were about as well armed as a man could be.

Williamson was directing the operation from a TARU truck. The concierge was in the truck with him already and they had a list of the registered owners of the apartments within minutes. Williamson ran his finger down the list. ‘Here we go,’ he spat excitedly. ‘There’s only one Elizabeth in the building, thank God. We’ve found her.’ He took the map of the layout of each floor and circled the apartment, then called it through to the rest of the team over the shortwave.

The captain of the SWAT team moved close to the map and then looked up at the building. ‘We got to hit this quick,’ he said. ‘No telling what he’s done already.’

‘Then get going!’ shouted Williamson.

Outside, the patrol started cutting off the scene, several officers skirting the edge of the building from both sides, making sure no one left and no one got in. Harper looked round at the flashing lights and then up at the windows. He turned to Eddie. ‘Well, if he didn’t know we were coming he does now.’

‘What do you think? You don’t look convinced,’ said Eddie.

Harper was reading through the notes of the phone call. ‘He’s not stupid, is he?’

‘No, he’s smart.’

‘Does a smart guy let us know his location with a cell phone?’

‘No, he’d be mad to do that.’

‘Yeah, so what’s his game?’

‘I don’t know. You think this is just a red herring? He’s gone already?’

Harper took off his jacket and pulled on a Kevlar vest. Kasper started getting kitted up too. ‘No. I think he’s here. But if he’s up there with her, they need to go in now.’

Kasper looked across to the first SWAT team. They had assembled at the great marble entrance to the Laker Building. Six black-clad officers in body armour were heading in the door. Each one had a face mask, Kevlar helmet and either a Heckler and Koch sub-machine gun, a Benelli M3 shotgun or a semiautomatic rifle. They looked formidable. The SWAT teams worked as small units with a leader taking the team forward: two assaulters with the heavy weapons, a scout to go on ahead and a rearguard. The team entered the building.

Harper and Kasper ran across to Williamson at the TARU truck. ‘What you got? What’s the plan?’

‘We got one Elizabeth in the building,’ said Williamson, breathing heavily. ‘Elizabeth Constantine. We’re lucky this time. I’ve sent the SWAT team to storm the apartment. We’re going to get this bastard. I just hope he’s not got to the girl yet.’

‘What’s the layout look like?’ asked Harper.

‘The building’s got an elevator and two stairwells. They make their way to the apartment up the stairs, take the door off its hinges, then take him down.’

‘Simple as that,’ Harper said.

‘That’s how it’s going to be. What’s the problem?’

‘I don’t like it,’ said Harper.

‘What? That I’m going to take him down?’

‘No, Nate, I don’t like the situation. He’s too smart to give us such an easy lead.’

‘He’s not smart, he’s spooked — the press statement panicked him. He doesn’t know we can trace his cell phone. He thinks he’s indestructible.’

‘Maybe, but he didn’t sound like it. Give me a look at the residents’ list.’

‘Sure, look all you like, but there’s only one Elizabeth living in this building. I’m going into the lobby,’ said Williamson. ‘I need to be there when they bring the bastard out.’

Harper leaned over the list of residents. He called the concierge to his side. ‘Hey, what’s your name?’

‘Marvin,’ said the concierge.

‘Is this list up to date?’

‘Sure is,’ said Marvin. ‘I only just got the latest list yesterday.’

Harper stared down the list. He was working through the angles. The killer’s call had been triangulated and he’d given them a name, Elizabeth, but maybe the name was phoney. They couldn’t know for sure. The triangulation meant only one thing and that was that twenty minutes earlier the killer had been somewhere in the building. But that was all they knew.

He turned to Marvin. ‘Tell me about Elizabeth Constantine.’

Marvin sucked his teeth. ‘Like I told Detective Williamson, she’s pretty, all right. About twenty-four. Nice lady. Quite a small woman, but she’s very polite.’

‘What colour hair?’

‘She’s blonde.’

Harper nodded. Williamson’s instincts seemed to be right. ‘Well, I hope she’s all right.’

‘So do I,’ said Marvin. ‘She’s a real nice addition to the family.’

‘What did you say?’ said Harper.

‘We’re like one big family here.’

‘No,’ said Harper, ‘you said she was a nice addition.’

‘Yeah,’ said Marvin. ‘She’s only been here a couple of weeks.’

‘Where did she live before?’

‘I don’t know that kind of stuff, but it’d be on her registration documents. You’ll have to see the building manager.’

Harper ’s finger stopped halfway down the resident list. Elizabeth Constantine was new to the building. The question troubling Harper was whether she was also new to the city. ‘Get yourself back to the building and find me those documents,’ he said.

Marvin jogged back towards the Laker Building. Harper looked up at the building. Eddie sidled up. ‘You’ve got that look on your face, Harps.’