The Keystroke Killer Page 4

  “I’m glad I know the Warden.”

  “I bet he’s glad too.” The guard scowled at Matthew as he handed back his documents and badge. “You must check your weapon and your anger once inside.”

  “I got the memo. This is my fifth time here.”

  “Mine too.” The guard flipped his hand taunting Matthew to proceed. “Word of caution. Don’t stay too long. You don’t want to get mixed up with our occupants and turn this into a one way trip.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The Taurus pulled deeper into the compound as Matthew observed the grounds. The hair on his arms raised. He eyed the Co-Ed serial killer, Milo Evans, late twenties, Caucasian muscular Skinhead who sported a Swastika tattoo on the side of his bald head that complimented the rugged scar on his cheek.

  Milo leaned against the dirty gray cinder block wall inside a seven by nine feet fence which prevented him from mingling with the other inmates.

  Five armed guards remained on high alert around him as if they were expecting guerilla warfare. The buff insidious guard recognized the Ford Taurus. “Your lover boy is here, Milo.”

  “Don’t you mean your piece of ass?” Milo ripped a cold stare of blank confrontation.

  Milo looked at the sniper in the tower who pointed his rifle toward him peering through his scope with his finger on the trigger ready to take the kill shot. Milo puckered his lips and blew a kiss. Play nicey, nicey.

  Matthew parked the Taurus beside a candy apple red Jaguar. Seems out of place. He stepped from his vehicle and looked around.

  Matthew made his way from his car. The gravel beneath his feet crunched as he approached the front entrance. He looked toward the unoccupied spot where Milo once stood. I believe he knows I’m coming.

  Matthew near to the secured door glanced up as a beautiful woman who wore a red menswear style dress swiftly exited. Her raven black silk hair shined in the sun as she placed her Saint Laurent white designer sunglasses onto her face pushing past him. Something was familiar about her; but Matthew couldn’t put his finger on it.

  The metal door clicked when he approached the entrance. He pulled the pulled the silver handle and entered the gray sterile waiting area void of visitors or family members. The odor reminiscent of an old folks home made him queasy and reminded him of his visits to see his grandfather. He approached the receptionist area enclosed by frosted glass. A note taped to the outer window instructed visitors not to knock on the window. How else am I supposed to get her attention?

  The glass barrier slid open. A perky heavy-set Latino woman who wore lime-green horned rimmed glasses flashed a grin of charm. “Good to see you again. I thought you’d be here by at least one.”

  “I got caught up at the park. A little girl was missing.”

  “That must have been scary, considering.”

  “Everything turned out all right.”

  “At least you’re back for your yearly torture?”

  “I’ll be back every year until I get the truth out of him.”

  “You and Arnold. I’ll be back.”

  “Give me two minutes to regain my composure. I want to kill him for what he did.”

  “When you’re ready, tap on the window and I’ll buzz you through.”

  Matthew took a seat, put his head in his hands grasping each side of his thick brown hair. Matthew’s thirst for the truth haunted him. The more he reflected, his sadness and deep-boned guilt increased as he recalled his sister’s last conversation between them.

  ***

  “I’m scared.” Livia’s voice trembled. “I’m in trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “The scary kind.”

  “I need facts.”

  “The fact is, I broke up with Milo and he’s following me. He scares me.”

  “Have Dad put a restraining order on him.”

  “He won’t. Remember, he likes him.”

  “That figures. He’s never been one to protect us. That isn’t his style.”

  “There’s something else Matthew, several of my friends have gone missing.”

  “Missing? Like, didn’t show up for a rave party missing?”

  “No! Missing, like not found anywhere.”

  “Have their families filed any missing person reports with the police?”

  “Yes. The police won’t do anything until a body is found. To them there’s no crime without a body.”

  ***

  Matthew rose and kicked the chair beside him. “Damn it.” Why didn’t I listen to her?

  The desk clerk slid open the frosted window divider. “Detective Raymond.” She waited for a response. “Detective Raymond.”

  Matthew’s eyes flushed. If I’d only gotten there in time.

  “Detective Raymond!”

  “I’m not a detective. I’m a private investigator.” He approached the door that led to a hall.

  “Good luck in there.”

  A loud hum released the locked door. He stepped through the uninviting invitation.

  In the middle of the hall stood two additional armed guards. The area had several recessed secured eight by ten inch lockers, a checkpoint station and an ironclad entry door that included an eye recognition keypad developed by Dimension Global. The door, dark gray metal six inches thick and eight feet tall, and how it sounded as it locked behind him made the biggest impression on Matthew over the last four years.

  A loud buzzer, a clang and a big bang. Going out didn’t sound as menacing. As he approached the guarded area, his heart raced, his temperature rose and the tension throughout his entire body increased. He soon would sit across from the monster who killed his sister.

  “Mr. Raymond. Check your weapon here.” The husky guard remained alert as Matthew slowly removed his gun from the holster.

  “I know the drill.” He handed it to him. “I don’t like being unarmed.”

  The second guard pierced his eyes. “You don’t have a choice if you want to visit Milo. Or, you could stop your yearly visitations.”

  “Not a chance. That shithead knows what happened to my sister. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll beat the truth out of him.”

  “Don’t you mean get the truth out of him?”

  “Yea. That’s what I meant. The bastard murdered my sister.”

  “Your sister was a victim of the Co-Ed serial killer? I thought you were the U.S. Marshall who captured him?”

  “I should have killed him on the spot.”

  “Meaning, you could have?”

  “Can I get on with this or am I the one being interrogated?”

  The guard stepped to the retinal scan. The red light zipped across his eye and turned green. Click. The locker opened, and the guard secured Matthew’s weapon.

  Clang. The door slid into the recess of the wall giving way to the rancid urine smell and smeared dried fecal matter on the walls. The guards led Matthew down the unwelcoming hall. A faint whisper of burnt flesh permeated from the left, the odor of carbolic soap from the staff restroom on the right and the stench of unwashed clothes from the air vents filled the air.

  Matthew looked at the visitor’s restroom door. “I need to go in.”

  “Make it quick. Visiting hours are almost over.”

  ***

  The restroom door creaked as it shut behind him. Someone had taken a dump in the toilet and left it unflushed.

  In the far corner by the janitor’s closet, a rusty tin bucket served as the final resting place to an enormous and decomposed rat which reeked of rotting decay stifling Matthew.

  “Disgusting people.” Did they leave their manners and dignity outside the gate? He shuffled to the sink and scrutinized his reflection wrinkled by torment. A tear fell from his left bloodshot eye as he thought of the exact moment Milo slaughtered his sister.

  ***

  Milo clutched Livia’s hair as he dragged her into the Army green public restroom at Kenner City Park. The pervasive odor of urine filled the air.

  Matthew in hot
pursuit retrieved his magnum and sprinted toward them. He raced into the bathroom high on angered emotion out of breath.

  Milo held a machete against Livia’s throat as he grinned sinisterly. “You made it in time to watch your sister die.”

  “Let go of her.”

  “If I let her go, you will kill me.” Milo taunted him as he pressed the knife harder against Livia’s throat. “And, if I don’t let go, you will kill me. Either way, you lose.”

  “Let go now!” Matthew’s muscles contracted knowing the monster before him would take her life.

  “What will big brother do? Save baby sis, or capture a serial killer?” His ice cold stare of gunmetal gray prevailed.

  “Both. I’ll do both. Put the fucking knife down and we all can walk away.”

  “Giving up your vow to serve and protect?” Milo taunted to get a rise out of Matthew. “You’d let me walk, if I let her go? I think not. I must protest.”

  “I’ll kill you. Put down the knife and let her go.”

  “Too bad.” Milo slit Livia’s throat and shoved her to the ground. “You’re too late, hesitation kills.”

  Matthew lunged to save Livia. He knelt over her and tried to stop the sprouting blood from her neck with his hands pressed hard against the wound. “Livia.” Her eyes rolled back; she took her last breath.

  Milo snickered as he watched the loving embrace between a brother and a very bloody sister.

  “You’re a butcher. You’ll pay for this!” Matthew lunged toward Milo and struck the cumbersome machete from his grip. He heaved him against the cracked roach infested sink. Milo’s cheek connected to it and split open. Blood smeared onto the sink and dripped down Milo’s face. Matthew grabbed Milo by the shoulders and heaved his head against the mirror which shattered into several pieces and crashed into the pool of Livia’s blood.

  Milo snatched a sharp mirror fragment, charged Matthew, stabbed him and sliced his left shoulder.

  Matthew glowered at him, bent to deliver a reverse round kick, but slipped on Livia’s blood falling backwards onto his butt.

  Milo laughed as he held back his mental powers to provoke Matthew. “I’m just getting started.”

  Matthew bolted up quick onto his feet and delivered a round kick. His foot connected solidly into Milo’s ribcage cracking several ribs.

  Airborne, Milo slammed against the wall. He grunted, took a deep breath and charged Matthew.

  Matthew outmaneuvered the serial killer. He dodged him, clutched Milo’s shoulders and used the momentum to propel him head first slamming him against the wall.

  Bloody, Milo zigzagged toward Matthew.

  Matthew rushed him, grabbed his shoulders and butted his head against his forehead.

  The room spun as Milo staggered toward his opponent. His eyes rolled into the back of his head collapsing next to Livia.

  Matthew kicked Milo’s ribs. He yanked his handcuffs from the pouch so hard it busted his lip.

  Milo groaned and barely opened one eye, more of a wink.

  A drop of blood fell from Matthew’s nose onto the back of Milo’s bald tattooed head. Matthew dropped to his knees and handcuffed him. “I have you now, you son of a bitch. You will rot in Hell for what you have done.”

  Matthew knelt by his sister, checked her pulse and closed her eyes brushing his fingers across them. He stood and kicked Milo’s face.

  Police sirens blared as seconds ticked away.

  Matthew glimpsed his bloody reflection in the mirror. He ambled to the sink and washed his face.

  A light blue electrical power surge, originating at the overhead light fixture, radiated downwards onto the mirror which captured his attention. The blue light pulsated, zipped through the running water, across the metal pipes and onto the floor to Livia’s blood. Livia shimmered a faint blue as the surge entombed Blaze. Blaze became transparent and vanished along with her crimson blood.

  Matthew became faint as he felt Blaze’s life leave her body. “No!”

  S.W.A.T. burst into the restroom pointing their rifles toward Matthew. Matthew raised his hands above his head. A red laser dot centered on his forehead. Without lowering his hands, he pointed at the unconscious and bloody Milo. “That’s the Co-Ed serial killer. Notify my father, Squad Commander of the New Orleans Police Intelligence Unit, Matthew Raymond.”

  ***

  Matthew exited the bathroom. The guard escorted him to the interview room at the end of the dreary hall. “You have ten minutes. Anything before that, knock on the door and I’ll let you out.”

  The nine by nine foot room had a two-way mirror on the north wall. By mandate, Warden Stronghold and several guards watched the conversation between the rugged investigator and the ice cold serial killer. The camera mounted high in the corner of the room reflected onto a bare bulb hung from the fourteen foot ceiling.

  Milo shackled at his feet and chained at his wrists sat on a metal stool behind a metal table. Both secured to the floor by bolts. A single wooden chair on the opposite side of the table near the door entrance awaited the interrogator.

  When Matthew entered, Milo’s hands pulled tight against the round metal restraint. He jerked the chains sneering at Matthew. “These necessary? I thought by now you and I understood each other.”

  Matthew didn’t fall for the bait unaffected by Milo’s threatening gesture or posturing and calmly sat. “Had, is the operative word. Why should I trust you without them?”

  “You’re not dead, are you?” I could kill you with one thought.

  “The chains stay.”

  “Then, I don’t talk.” He’s an idiot.

  A standoff ensued as neither the interrogator nor the killer wanted to retreat. Matthew maintained the upper hand confronting Milo. He sat stiffly. Milo followed suit. Neither man wanted to blink first as they glowered into each other’s eyes. The silence roared until Matthew made the first move as he tussled his fingers through his scruffy uncombed hair. “Let me remind you the position you’re in. I put you here. I can keep you here.”

  The table vibrated as Milo scowled back unnerved. He responded to Matthew’s emphatic statements by sneering more amused than intimidated. “That’s supposed to make me talk?” Milo jerked toward the resolute Matthew. Only the chains that bound Milo prevented him from reaching his visitor.

  Matthew didn’t flinch. Not one recoil gave Milo the result he hoped.

  “Oooo! I’m really scared now. Big brother needs protection by the chains that bind me. You’re afraid to unchain me. Rightly so.”

  Matthew reached into his back pocket, grabbed a folded envelope and pretended to hand it to the chained prisoner.

  Milo gritted his teeth, grunted and growled.

  Matthew pretended not to notice as he dangled the envelope back and forth in front of Milo one inch out of his reach. “Open it.”

  “Not today.” Milo desired to keep the upper hand.

  “You scared of what you’ll see?”

  “Nothing in your show and tell game scares me.” Milo extended his left middle finger and wiggled it.

  A sneer crossed Matthew’s lips; he didn’t take the jeering bait. He placed the envelope onto the table out of Milo’s reach. He flexed his fingers, folded his hands and slowly placed them on the table. Matthew sat upright. “What I can show you should scare the piss out of you. It’s from Nathan Hammer.”

  “You piqued my curiosity.” Milo tried to slam his bound hands onto the table.

  A lump formed in Matthew’s throat as he secured the envelope between his thumb and index finger and lowered it one inch from Milo’s shackled hands. “I’m not interested in what does or doesn’t pique your interest.” Matthew provoked Milo by fanning the envelope.

  Unnerved, Milo deepened his cold stone stare, remained motionless fighting the urge to use his telepathic ability to suck air from Matthew’s lungs.

  The chair scrapped across the floor as Matthew rose. “Maybe next time you’ll show me respect and play my show and tell game as you emphatically called it.
” He strode to the door.

  Milo sneered as he chomped his teeth to taunt him.

  Matthew used his knuckles and tapped on the door protruding his middle finger. “Up yours.”

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Unamused and unaffected by Matthew’s blatant gesture, Milo leered toward Matthew. “Watch your back. That’s, if you can.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You couldn’t watch your sister’s. Now could you?”

  Matthew turned toward Milo as his eyes trickled the calculated insolence of his stare. “You’re not allowed to talk about my sister.” He spewed spit with each angered word.

  “You should have seen her face when I slit her throat.” Milo gloated him further. “Oh, excuse me. You did.” His tone in Joker fashion more befitting a character in Batman seemed to bounce in the room against the walls. “Such a thing of beauty to feel as her body jerked going limp before her last breath. Big brother couldn’t save little sister.” Milo smirked and tilted his head to the side. “I remember her sweet perfume and the silkiness of her hair.” A grin of wry amusement dashed across his lips.

  Matthew bolted toward Milo, grabbed the villain’s head and slammed it against the table. Blood oozed from Milo’s nose. He pressed Milo’s bloody face relentlessly on the table as if he had the strength of a Western lowland gorilla from the jungles of Africa. “You son of a bitch!”

  Milo strained to avert Matthew’s glare. His yellow stained teeth bloody.

  “Where did my sister go?”

  Milo’s blank stare enraged an already violent Matthew.

  “How did you make her vanish?” Matthew slammed Milo’s head against the table over and over.

  “Lost control big brother? I think so.”

  “You son of a bitch.”

  “That’s the only name you have left in your arsenal? Low on vocabulary for a Tulane graduate.”

  Matthew slammed Milo’s head three more times against the already bloody surface. “How’s this for vocabulary? You’re demonic.”

  Three guards rushed into the room and restrained Matthew. To break free, Matthew trashed in their arms to escape from the three-man hold.

  Milo licked the blood from his lips and sat up. “Tastes like your sister’s.”