Shadows May Fall (33 page)

“Just wanted to give you a head’s up that we’ve got several of our people from the Crime Lab coming in addition to the ones among the coppers.” He told her. “One of them is going to tap into the main server there so Connor can siphon as well as sterilize data if needs be.”

“That’s a relief.” Lou had been wondering what was going to pop up when they got into Vanessa’s computers.

“I’m booking you a massage in your room in Vegas.” Niko added. “You’re gonna love my gal.”

“Don’t fricken’ tease me right now!” The thought of a massage was heaven to Lou.

“I would never do that.” Niko grinned. “I take massage very seriously! Ask Abby.”

“I’m in then.” Lou wasn’t sure she would ever make it to Vegas at this rate. “Okay, I gotta get inside now.”

“Hang in there, kid.” Niko tried to be encouraging.

“You’re sounding more and more like Vinny.” She told him. “Wow!” He grinned, knowing that underneath the attempted insult was a very high compliment. “Thanks! Talk to ya later.”

Lou smiled and hung up. She and Dillon hadn’t been in any other room in the house beside the basement, and it was high time they made their walk through. “Let’s get in there.” She told Dillon as soon as she got back into where he and Caroline were talking.

“Let’s go.” Dillon nodded. “See ya later, Doc.”

“Not if I see you first.” Caroline still found a way to flirt, despite the gruesome venue.

Lou and Dillon stripped off their clean suits and dumped them in the collection hamper before heading back to the main house. The Queen Anne Victorian estate was a beautiful place that evoked images of a fairy tale family living under its roof. You could almost smell apple pie baking when you looked at it if it weren’t for the smell of decomp in its stead. No one could have ever imagined it was a house of horrors behind the Dickens-esque facade. When they reached the back door, they grabbed new suits to cover their clothes and covered their shoes with the blue booties. Preserving the scene was a priority at this point, and no one went in without proper precautions. Everything on the ground floor of the ten-thousand square foot home was perfectly ordinary and amazingly beautiful. They cut through the kitchen and the butler’s pantry, past the enormous round formal dining table that looked like a cross between King Arthur’s round table and something the first empress of France would have had. It was gaudy and gorgeous all at once. When they reached the top of the stairs, Lou couldn’t help but pause to look out at the lights scattered all over the back of the property.

“How the hell could someone live in this beautiful place knowing there were lives discarded out back like trash?” She asked, not expecting an answer.

“How can anyone ever understand why a sociopath does what they do?” Dillon answered her question with his own. “There’s no way to answer why here, Lou. You know that far better than I do.”

“I guess.” She acknowledged and continued down the hall to the first of the seven bedrooms upstairs. A deputy stood off to the side to let them in, and Lou noted the double cylinder deadbolt on the bedroom door that had been kicked in. The heavy duty locks required a key both inside and out. “All the rooms bolted like this one?” She asked the deputy.

“Yes, Detective.” He answered. “All but the master suite.”

She nodded, and they proceeded to go in. The room was decorated for a little girl, complete with canopy bed, a dressing table and a rocking chair in the corner. It was all frilly white and sunshine yellow with dozens of stuffed animals neatly arranged on the window seat. One would have thought a girl of no more than eight or nine lived in the room, save for the shackles affixed to each of the four bedposts. The white paint on each of the posts was chipped and scraped where the captive yanked and fought to pull her chains free. The cute frilly bedspread had blood stains and smears where the girl’s wrists and ankles would have been. She had fought, a lot, and by the varied shades of the stains, she had repeatedly gashed her wrists and ankles in her struggle to break from her bonds. The next four rooms were duplicates of the first, only in shades of pink, blue, green, and lavender. The same furnishings, the same stuffed animals, the same rocking chair and the same chains, shackles and blood stains. A variation on a theme, just like the nightgowns they and Hunny Trainor, had been wearing.

The problem was that Hunny had been found over thirty miles away and was made to look like she had committed suicide in a storm drain. Her condition, so bad that they assumed she had been homeless for a time. It made more sense now, having seen the girls shackled in the stables. But how did she get so far away? Why stage her death when there were bodies tossed out and piled up without a care or concern here on the property? It didn’t make sense. It also didn’t make sense that Vanessa Sturn and her houseboy were the only two running the household. Then there was the bloodmobile. Who did that belong to and where did it come from? How many more were out there? Lou wished so badly that she could get five minutes alone with Lady V, but that was not going to happen unless Max and the Aegis had some amazing magic to work there too.

As they hit the master suite, Lou realized there were no photographs in the house. No personal photos at all. There were beautiful works of art, paintings, and sculptures, but absolutely nothing of a personal nature to tie anyone to the home’s ownership. The master suite was neat as a pin. The bed was crisply made, fresh flowers arranged in an enormous cut crystal vase on the table in the sitting area of the room with the french doors to the balcony opened wide. It was a stunning setup but even with the flowers, Lou wondered if the smell of decomp was just stuck in her nose, or if it was wafting in on the night air. Was that an appealing smell to Vanessa and that’s why she had the doors open? She doubted she would ever know.

“Not exactly the color scheme you’d expect a homicidal domi-natrix to have for her bedroom.” Dillon observed aloud.

“Let’s not insult the dominatrix profession by lumping her into it.” Lou requested. “From what little I know about the subject, there is a massive trust factor there. This bitch is in a whole new category.”

The room was fresh and cool in color. Pale pool blues popped on snow white, plush carpeting with heavily carved furnishings in a pewtery silver finish. The main suite was not overly feminine but was clearly a woman’s domain. The master bathroom was light and bright with crystal sconces set on mirrored walls, and an exquisite crystal chandelier hung over the sunken bathtub nestled in an alcove of windows that allowed views of the property and Santa Monica mountains as one bathed. The vanity was the only messy area with Vanessa’s various pots of paints and compacts, tubes of lipstick and brushes strewn about. There was a tray filled with several bottles of the finest perfumes money could buy. Everything else in the bathroom was tucked away in their proper drawer or cupboard. The walk in closet looked more like one of those fancy boutiques Caroline had taken Lou to in Beverly Hills, right down to the round banquette sofa that sat in the center like something out of a 1930’s movie. There were hundreds of shoes meticulously displayed on lit shelves from floor to ceiling ranging from Christian Louboutin’s to stereotypical black patent hooker heels. A glass case set into one wall caught Lou’s eye due to the colors refracting from it. As she looked inside, she saw it housed what Lou expected to be millions of dollars worth of necklaces, earrings, bracelets and rings made of diamonds, rubies and every other gemstone imaginable. They were all carefully arranged on white display stands that one would find in a very high-end jewelry store. The excess of clothing hung on racks recessed in the other walls, and each hanger was precisely spaced from one another. Lou was willing to bet if she took a ruler they would all be exactly one inch apart. There were gowns and dresses on one side, all arranged by color, darkest to light. The next section was split into two rows with blouses and shirts on top, skirts and pants on the bottom. These too were arranged by color but also by season with sweaters at one end then summer items like tank tops and sleeveless blouses at the other. Lou wondered what a psychiatrist would make of the contrast between this, Vanessa’s vanity and the murdered women in the stable stalls. There were some serious issues there Lou doubted anyone would ever be able to make sense of.

“Check this out.” Dillon’s voice startled her, after it having been so quiet in the closet.

“What ya got?” She asked as she made her way toward him.

“Biometric lock on this set of drawers.” Dillon pointed to a built-in dresser. Lou saw what he was talking about with the small print reader positioned just to the left of the top drawer.

“You gotta bet she has some type of failsafe built into that.” Lou noted.

“We try and break in, we could lose anything inside.” Dillon agreed.

“They get her through booking yet?” Lou wondered aloud.

“You mean take her prints?” Dillon smirked, knowing where Lou was going. “You catch that, guys?”

“Who are you talking to?” Lou asked him and her cell phone rang immediately. She fought to find the opening in her clean suit so she could retrieve it. “Yeah?” She answered finally.

“Dillon, unlike you, Detective, had the good sense to activate his comms through his watch at the start of the evening.” Max’s explanation oozed condescendence. “Your mother just was ever so kind as to inform me your medallion is sitting on your nightstand. Therefore utterly useless to you.” He was referring to a pendant Niko had given Lou a while back. It was a safety measure that Dillon had been smart enough to use once before. Lou, however, kept forgetting to wear the thing despite it being very beautiful.

“Crap.” Lou muttered.

“Yes, crap.” Max repeated. “We’ll get an impression of Ms. Sturn’s prints from Lost Hills and get a workable facsimile to you as soon as possible. It will work to get you in whatever you have locked up there.”

“Alright then.” Lou wasn’t sure if she appreciated them listening in or was a little creeped out by it. “Thank you?”

“Of course.” Max could sense Lou’s trepidation. “It’s a necessary invasion of your privacy in situations such as this, Detective. This is the only time Dillon has activated the communications feature since your encounter with Mr. Timms, I assure you.”

“Good to know.” Lou stopped trying to recall if she had said anything she didn’t want Max to hear and her conversation with Niko popped to mind.

“Anything else I can do for you?” Max asked after a moment of silence.

“I think that’s it for now.” Lou couldn’t remember if Dillon could have overheard Niko’s joke or if she had said anything inappropriate.

“Very good.” Max kept it formal after his earlier slip-up. “I’ll leave you to it then.” He hung up before she could say anything further.

Lou hunted for the pocket in her clean suit that wasn’t made of much more than plasticized paper. After securing her phone, she stared at Dillon a moment then began flapping her arms at him and mouthing something that he couldn’t understand.

“What?” Dillon asked, but Lou just pressed her gloved index finger to her lips, signaling him to be quiet. She then pointed at his watch and gave him an angry expression. “What?” He asked out loud again.

Lou threw up her hands and walked out of the closet without saying anything. Surely Max could tell by the sudden silence she was not happy with the eavesdropping. It wasn’t that she minded them listening in, she just wished she had been warned first. She actually should have known, and when she thought about it, she remembered Max, Frank and Niko requesting that they keep in communication. Maybe it was that she had forgotten her pendant and hadn’t been the one to initiate the feature herself that bothered her. Or was it that she didn’t know if she had made an ass out of herself at some point in the evening. Either way she felt ridiculous, and she had no reason to.

Dillon emerged from the closet and caught up with Lou, shoving a piece of paper in her hand then holding his hands up in a questioning manner. Lou continued to scowl as she read his note that asked her if she was mad at him for activating his watch. She looked up and snatched the pen from him so fast that it literally made a snapping sound when she yanked it out of his rubber gloved hand.

He shook his hand out from the minor discomfort while he watched her write that a heads up would be nice in the future. “It never even occurred to me.” He said out loud but realized his mistake far too late as he watched Lou’s fist heading towards his gut. Despite his high threshold for pain and unnatural ability to recover from injury at an accelerated rate, Lou packed a serious punch for someone so small. His body instinctively hunched when the full impact of her fist rang through his belly. He hadn’t realized he had made a noise until he saw the deputy standing guard at the door spin around and run towards him.

“Detective!” He hurried to Dillon’s aide. “Are you alright?” The young man asked.

“He’ll be fine.” Lou answered for him as she stormed out of the master suite, leaving him doubled over.

The first set of trucks from the crime lab pulled up the driveway as
soon as the last ambulance took off for the hospital. The good news was that Ginger Fields and Cheryl Duncan were among the survivors. The bad news was that Lana Brown and Tawny Marks were two of the sixteen bodies found in the stables. They had no clue who the three unconscious girls were that they hauled out of the basement, or the man shoved in that box. Then there were the two other girls that were crated to be shipped in the garage. All told thus far, there were fourteen dead girls to identify, and that was going to take time and a good bit of luck.

Lou made her rounds, gathering notes and coordinating after action reports, then finally made her way back to the bloodmobile. There was a full team of specialists going over it with a fine-toothed comb, so she just stood back and watched for a while.

“You are not an easy woman to find, Detective!” Senior Crimi-nalist, Sara Williams said as she walked up the path.

“Hey, Sara.” Lou managed a smile. “So you got pulled in to this vortex too?”

Sara chuckled. “They were asking for volunteers. An all hands on deck sort of thing.”

“Hello, Sara!” Dillon greeted her as he made his way past the bloodmobile towards them.

“Hello, again Detective Cole.” She gave him a warm smile.

“Call me Dillon, please.” He stood a good arm’s length away from Lou since they hadn’t spoken since she punched him in the gut.

“How’s that stomach ache?” Lou smirked at him.

“Better, thanks.” He grinned.

“They are telling me this is a custom job.” Sara gestured to the vehicle. “No VIN numbers and it has less than a hundred miles on it.”

“You gonna tow it back and tear it apart?” Lou asked but knew that’s what would happen.

“Absolutely.” Sara confirmed. “Our guys will strip it down and trace any parts they can. We’ll try and find where it was put together so you can find out why. It’s pretty brilliant, though.”

“How so?” Dillon asked, a little leary of what she was going to say.

“Blood products are big money on the black market.” Sara explained. “Plasma and stuff is in high demand and goes for a premium. There are a lot of off-book research labs out there, some doing less than kosher work. Going through normal channels for supplies isn’t always in their best interest.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Lou was relieved someone was hitting on a viable theory.

“Just think about it.” Sara added. “How many times have you seen some botched plastic surgery job done by some unlicensed quack? You think there is no middle ground there? Actual licensed doctors running off book surgical centers doing dicey procedures for anyone willing to pay? It’s the wild west out there even with research.”

“Maybe you should take over this line of the investigation for us.” Lou suggested.

“Yeah, right.” Sara laughed.

“Yeah, right.” Lou looked at her in all seriousness.

“I am a civilian forensic scientist, Detective.” Sara reminded. “What the hell do I know about investigation shit?”

“What the hell do we know about the shit that you know?” Lou looked at her with wide eyes. “Seriously, we could use your help on this. It’s all hands on deck, remember?” Lou patted her on the shoulder then headed back to the main house. “See ya later, Senior Criminalist Sara.”

Sara smirked, still pondering Lou’s request. “See ya, Detectives.”

Dillon followed Lou at a safe distance as they walked across the property and around to the garages. Crime lab specialists were carefully loading the crates that they had found the two other girls in. Even from a distance Lou could see the bloody claw marks on the inside of the crates where the girls tried desperately to get out. Even the quarter sized air holes drilled into the sides of the wood were stained evidencing the girls had shoved their fingers through until they bled in some attempt at getting free or drawing attention. The other stains on the inside made Lou wonder how the hell long they had been in there. The only twinge of solace Lou had was that Vanessa and her little imp would be in their own boxes for the rest of their lives.

“Detectives?” A voice called out to them from down the driveway, and Lou recognized the young deputy from the Metrolink Bureau instantly.

“Hey, Jack.” Lou smiled as he approached. “What are you doing here?”

“I was at Lost Hills waiting for my brother to get off shift but given the situation, he’s not getting off anytime soon. So they asked me to bring over a package since everyone else was tied up.” Jack handed Dillon what looked like a forensic kit. “The Commander said it would get the safe open or something?”

“Excellent.” Dillon took the box. “Thanks, Jack.”

“Always happy to help!” He grinned. “Anything I can do around here?”

“It’s all up to the Crime Lab now, I think.” Lou said as she looked back at the crates.

“Holy crap.” Jack took notice of the crates for the first time. “So there were people stuffed in there for real?”

“Yeah.” Dillon sighed.

“They gonna make it?” Jack couldn’t imagine how.

“No clue at this point.” Lou hoped so. “We need to get inside and get that thing opened.”

Dillon nodded in agreement. “Thanks for this, Jack.”

“You bet.” Jack stuffed his hands into his pockets and stepped back a bit. The full scope of what had happened to the girls in those wooden boxes was starting to settle in. “Good luck on this one, Detectives.”

Lou smiled solemnly and waved as she and Dillon headed for the back entrance of the house. After donning fresh clean suits, gloves, and shoe covers, they headed back upstairs to the master closet to get into those drawers. Fortunately, the techs hadn’t reached the master suite yet, so Lou requested the deputy that stood guard in the doorway keep everyone out. Vanessa Sturn could have had anything locked away in there, including explosives. For everyone’s safety, no one was allowed in beside Lou and Dillon, and they took extra precautions by clearing the adjacent rooms to the side and below as well.

Once they were clear and inside, Dillon cracked open the forensics kit. His phone rang immediately, and he grumbled about not having the foresight to put his phone in the suit’s pocket.

“Yeah?” Dillon answered.

“It’s me.” Connor told him.

“Hang on, let me put you on speaker so Lou can hear you too.” Dillon propped the phone inside the kit then hit speaker. “Ready.”

“You only get two shots at this.” Connor advised him. “You need to be all set before you put on one of the gloves that we’ve got for you in the kit. Get everything prepped and put one of the gloves on last before you start making the prints. Understand?”

“Sort of.” Dillon was a little nervous.

“Think of it like old fashioned typesetting.” Connor explained. “There are five pieces of type, one for each fingerprint. You imprint one piece of type on the pad of each finger of the glove. The gloves are a unique material that will accept the type differently and create ridge detail and radiate heat just like human skin. That way the biometric lock thinks it’s her hand and her prints.”

“Shouldn’t Lou do this since her hands are closer in size?” Dillon asked.

“It doesn’t matter which one of you does it.” Connor clarified further. “You put the glove on first so your not gonna stretch the printout or anything. They will be exactly her print. But they don’t last long. Your body heat will eventually warm the material and the prints will degrade. Think of it as a wax print.”

“Got it.” Dillon understood now.

“She’s right handed?” Lou asked, thinking it was an important point to clarify.

“Yes, which is why you have two right-hand gloves.” Connor continued. “Thus your two chances.”

“Understood.” Dillon acknowledged.

“Alright then. See the five small plastic boxes?” Connor asked. “Each numbered from one to five?”

“Yeah.” Dillon pulled each box out of the kit and lined them up.

“The thumb is number one, and then the index finger is two and so on and so fourth. Following?” Connor needed to make sure Dillon understood the order.

“I got it.” Dillon confirmed.

Based on what they were able to learn from the look of the biometric plate and the information from the manufacturer, the lock was opened by a sequence of fingerprints. Connor had one of their people inside Lost Hills pretend that they had a technical malfunction when they processed Vanessa Sturn’s fingerprints initially. This allowed their guy to take a secondary set of print using a mold that enabled them to create three-dimensional renderings of her actual finger pads. Once Dillon pressed each of his specially gloved fingers into the individual mold, the gellish material would take the exact shape of Vanessa Sturn’s fingers right down to the minute ridge detail. It was frighteningly easy to Lou’s mind, and she made a mental note of being extra careful with where she stuck her fingers in the future.

“Once you’ve made each print with the glove, start with the thumb on the biometric pad.” Connor detailed each step carefully. “You’ll see the panel glow red at first, but it will turn green as soon as it’s accepted the scan. When it turns green, move to the next digit quickly but carefully. You’ve only got three seconds between digits or the system resets and we’re screwed. So take your time and do it right the first time, so we don’t need the second glove.”

“Got it.” Dillon swallowed hard then took a few deep breaths before he pulled on the special glove and began the process. “Here we go.”

Lou held her breath while she watched Dillon imprint each finger then start with his thumb on the plate. As soon as it glowed red, then green, she took a quick breath then held it again as Dillon went through the sequence. She never opened her mouth for fear of making him flinch. In retrospect, she thought she probably shouldn’t have slugged him earlier and would need to apologize once they got through this. With each finger that glowed green,

Lou’s heart pounded until he placed his pinky and it blinked green several times. They heard several clicks and what sounded like a hiss of air that made them look at each other nervously.

“You’re in!” Connor exclaimed. “That was the sound of the air lock opening! You’re good to go!”

“Holy crap.” Lou finally spoke. “That was nerve-wracking to watch! I have no clue how you didn’t shake doing that.”

“Me either!” Dillon laughed. “Thank you, Connor!”

“Yes!” Lou concurred. “Thank you, Connor.”

“My pleasure.” Connor sounded relieved.

“Now tell us what’s in there!” Max’s voice interrupted.

“How long have you been on the line?” Lou squeaked.

“Since we called?” Max chuckled.

“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here.” Dillon said as he removed the print gloves and put on his normal crime scene ones.

They started with the first drawer, opening it slowly to make sure nothing jumped out at them. Lou couldn’t imagine what warranted such security if Vanessa Sturn had her millions in jewels on display behind an easily accessible glass cupboard. What the hell could be so much more important that it was sealed in fireproof drawers with biometric locks? The inside of the first of six drawers was velvet lined, and it contained a laptop and a leather bound journal. They relayed the contents to Max and Connor as Lou opened the journal and Dillon took the laptop.

“Do not boot up that computer!” Connor yelled at them. “It’s probably air gapped and boobie trapped. Bring it to me and I’ll deal with it.”

“Alright.” Dillon acknowledged and set the laptop aside and out of the way.

“Our girl is old school.” Lou commented as she flipped through the pages of the journal. “Names, numbers, proclivities. She kept a handwritten journal, and there are some very recognizable names in here. I so did not need to know that these men....” Lou paused and frowned. “...and women! Whatever!” Lou closed the journal and handed it to Dillon with two fingers like it was contagious. “Bag this and it doesn’t leave our sight. That falls into the wrong hands, and it’s blackmail city.”

Dillon put the journal in an evidence bag, marked, signed, sealed and set it to the side next to the laptop. “Okay, let’s see what’s behind drawer number two!”

“Are those portable hard drives?” Lou asked as they looked inside the drawer. “They are, and those look like client numbers, the same as in the journal.”

“Probably video.” Connor offered.

“We didn’t see any cameras around here did we? Aside from the exterior ones at the gate?” Dillon asked, and Lou shook her head.

“I highly doubt anyone volunteered to have their kink sessions recorded.” Connor added.

“Right so she didn’t set up a camera and let it rip during sessions.” Lou grimaced. “There has to be a hidden camera or cameras.”

“Detectives...” Max interrupted. “You need to make sure you know what is on those drives before you put them in as evidence. I don’t mean to tell you your business but that is a bell you cannot unring.”

“Aw.” Lou snorted. “Like the fifty bells I already rang today without thinking? You don’t think my running around with a sledgehammer in the bell shop is cute?”

“Well...” He hesitated to reply.

“Do not worry!” Lou stopped him before he could say it. “I learned my lesson the very hard way today. We’ll box them up and bring them to you guys to filter first.” Lou walked out to the main hall and asked the deputy if he could get one of the techs to bring up a few boxes for her. Dillon waited until she returned before opening the next drawer that contained more hard drives, all in numerical order according to client code. They all appeared identical otherwise and looked to hold about sixty to eighty gigabytes of data which according to Connor meant there could be ten hours of footage on each drive. They waited until one of the techs dropped off the boxes before moving on to the last two drawers.