Oliver Stark - 88 Killer

She reached into the car and pulled out the keys. Slowly, she moved around to the back of the car and lifted the trunk, her eyes on him as he walked down towards the first alleyway.

She reached in and felt around until she gripped the handle of the lug wrench. She pulled it out and felt the weight in her hand. ‘Become the predator,’ she whispered.

Denise needed to get across to the killer just as he turned into the alleyway. She would have to move silently, so she removed her shoes. Watching and waiting, she was the predator now, both eyes forward, body still, ready to pounce. He was moving to the corner of the alley: if she left it any longer, he would be able to catch up with Harper. She had to act now.

Denise sprinted across the open ground, her feet making a low slapping sound, nothing more. She hit the wall within a few seconds and moved quickly to the corner. She leaned in, held the wrench hard, raised it to her shoulder and then turned the corner. Think Predator. Act Predator. It’s life or death . She needed all her power, but it was working. She wasn’t scared. Not at all. She was angry. This killer had Abby, had the two kids. Denise moved lightning fast, reaching him in two large strides. He heard her and turned, but that didn’t help him. As he turned, Denise smashed the lug wrench across his temple. The killer’s head twisted. She saw the whites of his eyes, white teeth and that was all. He was falling in front of her.

His head twisted into the ground, he lost control of himself and his gun hit the ground and skidded into the dark.

‘Harper!’ shouted Denise. ‘I got him!’

The killer rose slowly. ‘What the fuck…’ he said, but the lug wrench came down again, hard on the head. No mercy. One specific target. She hit him again on the same spot. ‘On the floor!’ she screamed. ‘On the fucking floor.’ He didn’t obey. She hit him twice, as hard as she could. Blood splattered her hand, but she kept him there and screamed, ‘On the floor, flat on the floor!’

She could hear Harper running up the alleyway. The man stirred and tried to speak. She hit him again. ‘Do not move,’ she shouted.

The body at her feet lay still on its front, a large wound on his head, blood creeping across his skull and on to the ground.

Harper appeared, his gun trained on the body on the ground. ‘What the hell?’ he cried. ‘Who is it?’

‘It’s him, Tom. He doubled back on you. I saw him coming after you. I had to take him out.’

Harper just stared. Denise stood, her heart pounding, her body feeling strong and powerful, the lug wrench poised for another blow.

The killer lay prostrate, groaning in pain, his right hand clutching the wound. Harper flashed the light over him then pulled out his cuffs and jumped on the body, cuffing him.

‘Well done, Denise,’ said Harper. He rolled the body over. ‘Let’s see what we got.’ Harper’s flashlight illuminated the face staring up at them and he felt the shock jolt him.

‘It’s Jack Carney,’ said Harper. ‘You’ve attacked a cop.’

Carney groaned. ‘I tried to fucking tell her. She’s brutal. Just kept hitting me. Jesus Christ, my head.’

‘Save your strength, Jack,’ Harper said. ‘Where did you come from?’

‘Hate Crime Unit got the call from Dispatch. We got here a few minutes before you.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Denise. The lug wrench clattered to the ground. ‘I didn’t realize.’

‘You didn’t fucking check,’ said Carney. ‘Just lucky you didn’t have a gun.’

Harper knelt and uncuffed Carney. ‘Where are they, Jack? Did you see?’

Carney motioned to the building opposite. ‘There’s a garage. Second along. He parked in there, then I heard him lock the front, so I went around the back. He’s gone already. Are the children okay? I didn’t check if they were in the car.’

‘We don’t know. We hope so. Can you walk? We need to stick together.’

Jack was helped to his feet. Denise decided to say nothing and just looked at the ground. She picked up Jack’s gun and handed it back to him. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Listen, lady, this goes nowhere, right? Nowhere. No one finds out I got pummeled to the ground by one of our own, by a civilian. By a woman.’

‘All right, Jack, this stays here, but let’s get back to the garage,’ said Harper.

‘I got the whole thing on the radio, got here fast as I could. I should’ve identified myself. I didn’t fucking see her. She must’ve been hiding.’ Carney grimaced through the pain.

Behind them, the patrol cops arrived. ‘We’ve got a man down,’ said Denise. ‘Call for Emergency Medical Support.’

‘Scrub that,’ said Jack. ‘There’s no one down and no need for a medic yet.’

They moved across to the garage. Harper sent the patrolmen around the back entrance.

‘We’ve got to break this,’ said Harper.

Denise ran back for the lug wrench. She smashed down repeatedly on the lock until the old wood shattered.

Harper kicked the door and the lock finally gave. They dragged it open. Denise ran to the trunk of the car and lowered her head to speak. ‘Ruth, Jerry, can you hear me? It’s okay, this is Dr Levene. If you’re in there, let us know and we’ll get you out. You’re safe now.’ She heard a kick from the car. ‘It’s the children!’ she shouted. She ran over to the car and tried the trunk. Locked. She called, ‘It’s okay, you’re safe. We’re with the police.’

The kicking continued, frightened, irrational thumping of panic.

‘Stay still, you’ll hurt yourselves.’

Denise tried to force the lock with the wrench but it didn’t budge. She passed it to Harper. He tried but also failed.

‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Harper. He ran to the back of the car, a knife in his hand. He pushed the blade under the rim and tried unsuccessfully to pop the trunk latch.

He looked around and had a second idea. He opened the back door and found the seat lever. He pulled out one seat and cut a hole through to the trunk. Denise stood at his shoulder. ‘Be careful,’ she said. Harper ripped back the material with his hand. They waited a moment.

Two small hands, like two petals of a flower, reached out and turned in the dark air.

North Manhattan Homicide

March 13, 9.22 a.m.

Denise waited for Harper all morning at the station house. She hadn’t seen him since they’d recovered the children the night before. She’d tried his apartment early but there was no one in and Harper’s phone went direct to message. When he didn’t show up in the investigation room, she asked Eddie Kasper where he might be.

‘Only four places I’ve ever found him:investigation room, the park, his apartment or the Cathedral.’

‘The Cathedral?’

‘St Patrick’s. He’s deep, you know.’

‘He disguises it well.’

Denise left the team. They were poring over the details of the previous evening’s operation. The relief was palpable: the two children, Ruth and Jerry Glass, were in police custody and they wouldn’t make the same mistake again. But the repercussions of the night in Borough Park would be felt for some years. The only good thing to come of it was that so many neo-Nazis had been caught and arrested, so there were fewer of these misguided minds on the streets. Jewish organizations were working together to find an appropriate way to make a statement and show solidarity with the victims.

Jack Carney was the name being passed around, not Tom Harper. Carney had got there before Harper. He’d seen the danger. He’d spotted the killer, and even Harper admitted that Carney’s presence had meant that they had avoided the unthinkable.