1979 - You Must Be Kidding Page 5

  Lepski got hold of himself. The very idea of having children, plus Carroll to contend with was his idea of a horror nightmare.

  He was well aware that Karen was the daughter of one of the richest and most influential men in the city. The Homicide squad, searching around the murder scene, had come upon Karen’s cabin which was within two hundred yards of where the body was found. Hess, who knew everything there was to know about the rich in the city, had told his men not to approach the cabin. He had reported to Terrell who had told Lepski to talk to Karen who would be at the Secomb branch of the Assurance Corporation.

  ‘Handle her with kid gloves, Tom,’ Terrell warned. ‘We don’t want to get Sternwood sour. My information is that she is a top class bitch.’

  ‘Miss Sternwood,’ Lepski said firmly, ‘I am investigating a murder.’

  Karen’s eyes opened innocently wide.

  ‘Is that right? So you are not planning to raise a family just yet?’ She gave him a sexy smile. ‘Maybe later.’

  Lepski eased his shirt collar with a hooked finger.

  ‘Last night, Miss Sternwood, a girl was murdered within a couple of hundred yards from your cabin. Were you in the cabin last night?’

  ‘Yes, I was, alone, I like being alone sometimes. I like to unwind after working in this dump all the week.’ Karen fluttered her eyelashes at him. ‘Don’t you like to be alone sometimes, Mr. Lepski?’

  Into Lepski’s shrewd mind came a doubt. This sexy piece might be trying to con him.

  ‘You heard nothing? No screams? Nothing?’

  ‘I was watching T.V. Do you dig T.V.? I guess you’re too busy to be able to watch much. I find it relaxing.’

  Lepski smiled his wolfish smile.

  ‘What were you watching, Miss Sternwood?’

  He saw her eyes flicker, and he knew, from his long experience as a cop, he had sunk in a punch that told him she was lying.

  ‘Oh, something.’ She shrugged, once more on even keel. ‘Does it matter? Some goon screaming.’

  ‘You didn’t hear a car?’

  ‘I’ve told you, Mr. Lepski, I didn’t hear a thing. Who is this girl? What happened?’

  Lepski stared at her, his cop eyes cold.

  ‘It was a messy murder, Miss Sternwood. I’m glad you were safe in your cabin, watching T.V. I wouldn’t like anyone to see what this killer did to this girl.’

  Karen grimaced.

  ‘How awful!’

  ‘That’s right, Miss Sternwood. So you can’t help me? You saw no one, heard nothing . . . right?’

  She tilted her chin at him.

  ‘That’s right.’

  They regarded each other, then Lepski tipped his hat.

  ‘Thanks, Miss Sternwood.’ He paused, then gave her a long hard cop stare. ‘Miss Sternwood, this is no business of mine, but spending weekends in that lonely cabin entirely on your own could be dangerous.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr. Lepski.’ She smiled brightly at him. ‘As you say, no business of yours.’

  As soon as Lepski had gone, Ken appeared, white faced and shaken.

  Looking at him, Karen said sharply, ‘Come on! Relax!’

  ‘That guy with the beard we ran into!’ Ken said. ‘If the police find him and he talks, he could prove you were lying.’

  Karen returned to her desk and sat down.

  ‘It would be his word against mine, and my word, plus Pop’s word, draws a lot of water,’ she said and began typing.

  * * *

  At 17.00, there was a conference around Chief of Police Terrell’s big desk. Sitting before him were Sergeant Beigler, Sergeant Hess, Detective 1st Grade Lepski and Detective 3rd Grade Jacoby.

  The various police reports that had flowed into Terrell’s desk had been summarized: reports from Hess, the M.O., Lepski, Jacoby and other detectives.

  ‘Janie Bandler,’ Terrell said. ‘She kept a diary. She has been on the hoof as an itinerant prostitute for some years. That’s about all we know of her. Dr. Lowis tells us she was knocked on the head, stripped, raped, strangled and ripped. This is a savage, sex nut murder. So far, none of the hippies have come forward with any useful information. None of them seemed to have seen or heard anything.’

  ‘I’m checking every one of them out,’ Hess said. ‘There were about fifty of them at the time of the killing. It’ll take a little lime.’

  Terrell nodded.

  ‘From what we have, it would seem the only possible lead is Lu Boone who admits being near the scene of the killing at the time of the killing. The killer must have had blood on his clothes.’ Terrell glanced at Lepski. ‘You checked his clothes and found them clean.’

  ‘Yeah, but I’m pretty sure he knows something. He either saw someone or else he’s the killer. When I questioned him, I got the impression he was lying. He played it too cool. He says he has money, likes to live rough and plans to stay at the colony for a couple of weeks.’

  ‘Check on him, Fred,’ Terrell said.

  ‘I’m doing it,’ Hess returned.

  ‘Right. Now we come to Miss Sternwood who owns this cabin within two hundred yards of the murder scene.’

  ‘I talked to her,’ Lepski said. ‘She’s a smart sexy cookie. She admits being in the cabin at the time of the murder, watching T.V. She claims to have been listening to some goon singing. I’ve checked all the channels, but at that time no one was singing. My guess is she had some guy there and was screwing. A piece like her just wouldn’t spend the weekend alone, watching T.V.’

  ‘That’s not our business,’ Terrell said. ‘She’s Sternwood’s daughter . . . remember that. We’ll forget her.’

  He turned to Jacoby, ‘What impression did you get of this man who phoned the squeal?’

  ‘Husky voice; could be any age; anti-police. No hope of tracing the call. It didn’t last more than five seconds.’

  ‘It could have been the killer,’ Terrell said. He looked around at the men sitting before him. ‘This could happen again. This is a sex nut and he could be on the prowl. We’ve got to find him, and fast.’ To Hess, ‘If you want more men, Fred, I’ll borrow some from Miami.’

  The telephone bell rang. It was a call for Hess. The others waited while Hess talked to one of his men who had been, with others, searching the thickets and the sand around the murder scene.

  ‘Let’s have it right away,’ he said and hung up. To Terrell, he said, ‘Jack has found an odd jacket button: a miniature golf ball, half buried in the sand and about three yards from the body. Could be our first clue.’

  * * *

  Fat Katey White was cooking sausages over the camp fire when Lu Boone joined her. She was on her own. It was her pride that there was always a constant supply of sausages ready for anyone who felt hungry. Sausages and spaghetti were the staple diet of the colony. The rest of the colony were either swimming or earning a few dollars wherever a dollar could be earned.

  Accepting a sausage, Lu squatted by her side.

  They got talking. Katey thought Lu was a superman. She loved his beard, his muscles and his jeering green eyes.

  Lu had a talent for turning girls on. This was about his only talent as his father, a staid Houston judge, had sadly discovered. Lu was a law drop out. He considered his father and his mother were the world’s biggest drags. He had left home when he was seventeen years of age, and since then, now twenty-three, he had bummed around, picking up some kind of living, doing any job from dish washing to garage work, but happy to be free from the suffocating atmosphere of his home. But after six years of living rough, he had come to the conclusion that money, after all, was important. He had begun to dream of being rich: not peanuts, but real money, and he had also come to the conclusion that he just wasn’t going to become rich by settling to some dreary nine-to-five job.

  Arriving at Jacksonville three days ago, he found he hadn’t enough money to buy himself even a hot dog. His hunger overcame the last of his scruples. Walking aimlessly through Confederate Park, he came upon a well-dressed old woman, sitting o
n a bench, sound asleep. By her side was a large lizard-skin handbag. It was the work of a moment to whip up the bag and run swiftly into the flowering shrubs. The net yield of the bag was an unbelievable $400.

  Katey had been living in the colony now for two years, and what she didn’t know about the city, most of the people and their way of life, could be written on the head of a pin.

  Seeming to be chatting idly, Lu got from her that Karen Sternwood, the daughter of one of the richest men in the City, owned the cabin right where this hooker was murdered.

  ‘Karen is okay,’ Katey said. ‘She comes here from time to time. In spite of all her money, she’s our people. Chet digs her.’

  Lu became alert.

  ‘If she’s that rich, what’s she doing living in a shack like that?’ he asked, reaching for another sausage.

  ‘It’s her love nest,’ Katey explained. ‘Her old man is a real drag. A girl needs to get screwed now and then. If her old man ever knew what went on in that cabin, he would flip his stupid lid.’

  ‘Would she care?’

  Katey laughed.

  ‘Sure she would. Right now she has everything. She once told me if her old man found out, he’d cut her off without a dime.’ She looked longingly at the sausages she was cooking, but she checked the impulse to take one. She hated being known as Fat Katey. ‘But Karen likes work. Her old man started a branch office in Secomb. She works there: a nine to five stint that would drive me out of my tiny mind.’

  ‘Is she in charge there?’ Lu asked, ever probing.

  ‘Oh, no. Ken Brandon is in charge.’ Katey heaved a sigh. ‘There’s a lovely man!’

  ‘Why do you say that, Katey?’

  ‘He’s just like Gregory Peck, when young, and he’s nice. He once gave me a hitch into the city.’ Katey closed her eyes and sighed again. ‘He really turned me on.’

  Lu’s mind shifted to the man who had been with Karen.

  Tall, dark, and maybe like Peck. It made sense. A guy working all day with a hot piece like Karen would want to screw her.

  ‘No romance for you, Katey?’ he said with a sympathetic smile. ‘I suppose he’s married?’

  ‘Oh, sure. His wife is real smart. She works for Dr. Heintz. He fixes all these rich creeps who get pregnant.’

  ‘Does Brandon get along with his wife?’

  ‘Sure. They get along fine together. Any girl in her right mind would get along with him!’

  Lu decided he had asked enough questions. He switched the subject and asked Katey how long she planned to stay with the colony.

  Katey shrugged.

  ‘I’ve got nowhere else to go. I guess I’ll stay as long as I’m wanted.’

  Lu patted her fat hand.

  ‘You’ll always be wanted, chick. You’ve got that thing.’ Then he got to his feet. ‘I’ll take a look around. See you, and take care.’

  Katey watched him walk towards his cabin.

  You’ve got that thing!

  She felt a pang. How she wished she had! Then the impulse to eat a sausage proved too much for her.

  Back in his cabin, Lu sat on the camp bed. He opened the telephone book and found Ken Brandon lived on Lotus Street. He scribbled the address down on a scrap of paper. Then he counted his stolen money. He was worth $350. He lit a cigarette and sat for a long time, thinking.

  This could be his big take, he told himself, but he would have to handle it carefully.

  First, he must survey the scene. He must find out about how much Brandon was worth. There would be no problem with the Sternwood girl. According to Katey, her old man was loaded with the stuff. According to Katey, Brandon and his wife were close. This night out was probably Brandon’s first slip up: a strong lever for getting money from him.

  If he handled it right, Lu told himself, stubbing out his cigarette, he could pick up ten thousand dollars: the thought excited him.

  Then he frowned. If he went ahead, this would be extortion His year in law school had taught him this was a serious offence. Again he thought. He was already a thief. Extortion? If he played this smart, he wouldn’t get caught.

  Ten thousand dollars!

  He scratched his beard while he continued to think. Step by step, he finally told himself: survey the scene.

  Getting to his feet, he went into the bathroom and trimmed his beard and hair closely. Then stripping off, he took a shower. Dressed in his best hip-huggers and a white shirt, he surveyed himself in the bathroom mirror. He was convinced that he wouldn’t attract the attention of some nosey fuzz. He looked almost respectable!

  Leaving the cabin, he walked over the dunes to the highway. He waited for a City-Secomb bus, then was conveyed to Secomb. While sitting in the crowded bus, he decided he would have to become mobile. After wandering around the crowded streets of Secomb, he came upon a car mart. Two hours later, he drove away in a battered VW.

  He had paid $155 for the half-wreck, but not before he had squeezed from the dealer a new set of plugs. He was satisfied that the car would run for another five hundred miles. His garage experience had paid off.

  He had asked the car dealer where to find the branch office of the Paradise Assurance Corporation. Following the car dealer’s directions, he drove to Seaview Road, and was able to park within twenty yards of the Assurance office. The time now was 13.00. He hadn’t been sitting in the car for more than ten minutes when he saw Ken Brandon leave the office and walk over to the quick-lunch bar, across the road.

  Lu immediately recognized Brandon as the man he had seen with Karen on the beach.

  Check! he thought.

  He then drove into the city. He found parking and bought a map of the city from a drug store. Returning to the car, he located Lotus Street. He drove there, then leaving the car at the top of the road, he walked down, passing bungalows and villas until he came to Brandon’s bungalow. Slowing, but not stopping, he regarded the bungalow with its trim garden, and he nodded to himself.

  A guy who could afford a place like this, he thought, must be worth at least five thousand dollars.

  Returning to his car, he drove back to Secomb, and again found parking near the Assurance office. For some minutes, he watched black people entering the office. He had to be sure that the girl who had been with Brandon was indeed Karen Sternwood. He hesitated. Would she recognize him if he walked into the office? He had trimmed his hair and beard. As she had only seen him in the moonlight, he decided it was unlikely she would recognize him. But suppose she did? Did it matter? He would have preferred the element of surprise, but it was worth the risk.

  Leaving the car, he walked over to the office and entered.

  Karen was talking to an anxious looking black man.

  Lu paused in the doorway and looked hard at her. No doubt about it! She was the girl!

  Karen glanced at the man who had come in and who was staring at her. She immediately recognized him. A little shock ran through her, but not for an instant did her expression betray her shock.

  ‘A few minutes,’ she said with her sexy smile.

  Watching her, Lu was convinced she hadn’t recognized him. He smiled.

  ‘Parking problems,’ he said. ‘I’ll be right back,’ then he returned to his car.

  Karen forced her mind to the problems of this worried black man who seemed so desperate to protect his brood of ten children. As she began again to explain the policy she was offering to take care of his children, she thought this man who had just come in, who had stared at her, and had now gone, meant real trouble.

  three

  An all grey-haired man walked into Police headquarters. Someone had once told him he looked like James Stewart, the movie actor, and from then on, he had aped the actor’s mannerisms. He was Pete Hamilton, crime reporter on the City’s T.V. network. As he covered scandal, society gossip as well as crime, he had a vast audience. He was regarded by the police as the original pain in the ass.

  Ignoring Sergeant Tanner who was at the charge desk, he walked briskly down the corridor and
swept into Beigler’s tiny office.

  ‘Hi, Joe!’ he said, coming to rest before Beigler’s desk. ‘Let’s have it! I’m on the air in a couple of hours.’ He pulled up a chair, sat down and took out a notebook.

  ‘Janie Bandler. What clues? What are you guys doing?’

  Beigler sighed. He would have liked to have caught hold of Hamilton and kicked him out of his office, but no one did that to a man of Hamilton’s influence.

  ‘It would seem,’ Beigler said carefully, ‘we have a sex nut around. Apart from rape, there seems no other motive. We are checking. I don’t have to tell you, Pete, that finding, a sex nut is the hardest nut to crack.’

  ‘You’re becoming quite a wit, Joe. So, okay, what have you got so far? Any clues? Any leads? This poor girl . . .what do you know about her?’

  ‘No clues so far,’ Beigler said. He never gave out information unless he had to. ‘Janie asked for trouble. She was a whore. Maybe she ran into some guy, propositioned him and was unlucky.’

  ‘He ripped her . . . right?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Hamilton stared at him.

  ‘A ripper could do it again.’

  ‘Yeah, but he could have been passing through the City. We don’t want to start a panic, Pete, so play that angle down.’

  Hamilton’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘Listen, Joe, I have a sixteen year old daughter! Girls should be warned. If there is a nut around, it’s Mayor Hedley’s and your job to show the red light. I don’t give a damn about panic! Girls must be warned!’

  ‘I can’t stop you,’ Beigler said quietly. ‘The Chief is talking now with the Mayor.’

  ‘Have you talked to Chet Miscolo?’

  ‘We’ve talked to him.’

  ‘Didn’t he come up with anything?’

  ‘We have the names and addresses of all those in the colony last night,’ Beigler said. ‘We’re checking each and every one. It’ll take a little time. Right now as I’ve said we have nothing to go on. As soon as we have, I’ll alert you.’