Turtle Island (23 page)

‘The tooth.’ Georgina said.

‘What?’ Leroy didn't take his eyes from the road.

‘The tooth...I need to see the tooth that was left in my car,
remember?’ There was an excitement to her voice, which over came
the tiredness that she felt.

‘You need to see this tooth now or in the morning.’ Leroy said
knowing which answer he'd prefer to hear.

For a moment Georgina remained silent while she pondered the
possibilities. ‘Now...if you don't mind?’

‘I was afraid you'd say that.’ Leroy swung the car around in
one easy movement, receiving a blast from the horn of the driver
behind until Leroy turned on the blue flashing lights in the grill
and on the parcel shelf as they roared along the freeway back
toward the police precinct. Georgina began to assemble several
threads that could formulate an action plan. Her mind ran over
several options but try as she did, everything was still too vague.
They needed evidence and clues. They needed more than help if they
were to save Rick and his family.

The e-mail arrived without bells and whistles but he was
waiting patiently for it, all the time he was monitoring Jo-Lynn’s
progress as the image from the room was relayed to a monitor in
front of him. He minimized the image, happy that she wasn’t going
to go and spoil things by drowning, and then opened the mail. He
could sense Wesley Timms greed; it dripped off the page like hot
fat even though it was an electronic screen. Prentice Fortune
smiled.

‘And the world will know my name.’

The tooth was small, a white molar with no sign of decay.
Georgina held the plastic evidence bag closer to the light. The
small evidence box was placed on the table in front of Georgina.
Leroy was surprised that any evidence was left at all. The room was
cold, lit with a buzzing neon tube that did little to encourage a
warm ambience.

She stated at the tooth, lost for a moment, deep within her
own thoughts. ‘This tooth is quite small, could even be that of a
small child or a women. Was the tooth ever cross referenced with
Karen Fullers dental records?’

Leroy looked sideways at Georgina O’Neil. ‘I doubt it. Nothing
much was done but cover our backs over the Fuller
incident.’

‘Can you get the dental records?’

‘Sure they’re upstairs with the path’ reports.’

Leroy turned to go back up the stairs from the
vault.

‘What about Fleisher’s wife and family?’

‘Narla Fleisher and Harley.’

‘Can we check against them too. I also need the video tape
that the killer sent us, you know, the Dalton one.’

Leroy stopped on the third stair up and shivered. He had a
hard time forgetting the Dalton tape. ‘It should be there with the
tooth. All the evidence is there. What little there
was.’

Georgina searched through the box. There were piles of 8mm
videocassettes shot after the Fleisher incident, a sealed envelope
marked Polaroid’s. A knife blade dulled with dried blood but no
standard format VHS videocassette. ‘Definitely not
here.’

‘It’s probably around somewhere...maybe misfiled.’ Leroy
continued walking up the steps. ‘I bagged it myself.’

Georgina looked at the rows and rows of little brown boxes
that were identical to the one she was holding.

‘Great.’ She placed the box back in its unoccupied slot on a
shelf and sat on a table in the centre of the room. She continued
to study the small tooth. The surface appeared unblemished, no
scratches or indents caused by dentist pliers, no sign of stress
caused by the killer’s hammer, unlike the teeth of the other
victims, all except Karen Fuller who never was a victim of the
killer anyway. Georgina thought for a while. It was possible but
highly improbable that there could be more than two people stalking
Turtle Island. She was pretty sure that there was only one killer,
Charles Fleisher had the misfortune to stumble right through their
investigation and while that resulted in his death she could not
feel an injustice had been afforded him. That left her still
searching for the identity of the man labelled by the media as the
Dentist. She wanted another viewing of the videotape that had been
given to Barbara Dace. Recalling that name gave her the whereabouts
of at least one copy of the tape. The TV studio had been showing
carefully edited pieces, so they must have a copy.

Leroy walked back down the stairs to the evidence room. He
held a manila folder between his fingers, rocking it back and forth
within the rhythm of his walk.

‘Dental records of one, Karen Fuller. I have run a check with
the Fleisher’s dentist for their records.’ He handed the folder to
Georgina.

She opened it and took out the history chart.

‘They’re pretty comprehensive, go way back.’ Leroy said having
briefly flicked through the records on the way down in the
lift.

‘This lady had great teeth, not one filling, not one
extraction.’

‘I want this tooth tested and checked against every other
person involved in this case, no matter how tenuous the link,
everyone from Fuller to Fleisher and his family… to, to.’ Georgina
began to think of all the sources from where the tooth may have
come.

‘To little Ray.’ Leroy finished her sentence.

Georgina nodded. ‘Get all the records together...Is there a
reliable dentist, police surgeon, anyone local with the means to do
the work fast?’

Now it was Leroy’s turn to think. ‘A lot of records are going
to be on various lists, police, FBI, even my dentist on the Island.
She is pretty dammed good, quite a techno junkie too. Her practice
is outta Star Wars, lasers, microscopes, computers...yeah she’s
pretty good.’

‘Okay, can you get that together? I gotta go visit Barbara
Dace.’

Before he could complain, Leroy was watching Georgina moving
swiftly up the stairs and out of the small storeroom.

She heard the door being opened and could already feel his
presence in the room with her.

Jo-Lynn’s neck ached from straining to keep it above the cold
water. Only briefly did she feel any sense of warmth, which was
when she urinated. The pitch dark hid her shame and the fact that
she enjoyed the sensation of warmth it briefly gave to her legs.
She cried out for help through the tape around her mouth. Her words
unintelligible but she hoped their desperation would not be lost.
She felt hands grab her shoulders and powerfully lift her upright.
He was right in front of her. How she wished she had a leg free, an
arm free, something, anything with which she could strike out with.
She wanted to tear this mother’s face off. Gouge out his eyes, and
even then she would not be happy. She could hear more tape being
pulled away from a roll. The crackle of the glued surface as it
freed itself from its backing, quite distinctive, then she could
feel it being wrapped around and around her head, over her eyes,
the tape being pushed down securely around the bridge of her
nose.

‘I am going to turn the light on and take the tape from your
mouth to feed you. Promise me that you won’t try to scream when I
take the tape away from your mouth. If you do scream I will kill
you.’ The voice was whispered.

Jo-Lynn felt something sharp pressed against her neck and
guessed it was a knife.

She mumbled through the tape gag. The thought of having the
tape removed from her mouth relieved her almost beyond measure. She
felt fingers peeling the corner of the tape, gently. As the carpet
tape pulled back, cold air rushed into the pores of her skin as
tiny hairs were extracted, stuck to the glue. Jo-Lynn stretched her
mouth, exercising it after the confinement of the adhesive gag. She
heard a light-pull switch being tugged and could just see the
flickering strobe of a fluorescent tube from a small gap under her
taped eyes. Her throat was dry but she needed to speak to her
captor, ask him why he was doing this? She wanted to know more than
anything how her son and husband were. She tried to
swallow.

‘...I...I need to know, How my son is?’ Her voice
croaked.

‘No talking.’

The smell of tomato soup being waved under Jo-Lynn's nose at
first nearly made her retch but as a spoon was placed against her
lips she realised how hungry she was. Her lips parted and the soup
entered her mouth, lubricating her throat. She felt something cold
pressed to her mouth, the smell strong. She found it hard to
believe that what she tasted was only bread and butter. Jo-Lynn
took a bite and while swallowing chanced speaking once
more.

‘How is my son, how's Ray? Please tell me, I promise I will be
quiet if you tell me.’

‘Your boy is alive for the moment. My grudge is not against
you or your boy, but your husband has to pay for what he has done.’
The voice echoed in the room, its slow distorted tone as chilling
as the water around Jo-Lynn's knees.

Another spoonful of soup.

The voice continued. ‘I promise neither of you will suffer, as
long as you do as you are told.’

More bread.

She continued to eat in silence, not even sure if what she was
eating was poisoned but the fact that she was being fed led her to
believe that she was probably going to be in for a long stay and
the fact that she was not allowed to see his face gave her fresh
hope. From under the tape she could just see her legs, she wanted
him to finish feeding her and hoped He would leave the light on, so
that she could try to look around the room from under the tiny gap
in the tape. Jo-Lynn took another mouthful of bread.

Now it was Wesley Timms turn to watch. He watched with glee as
the counter started to move. The site was now live and with a few
well placed e-mails was already starting to pay dividends both for
him and the oh so ready advertisers with their little link buttons
taking the ever eager customers to their corporate sites. Of course
it had to be discreet, but Wesley was ingenious when it came to
being devious. He watched Jo-Lynn being spoon-fed soup while on the
phone to a major supermarket.

‘Just think product placement…it’s no worse than the movies,
where we are spoon fed adverts throughout the feature.’

The line went dead.

‘You win some, you lose some.’ Wesley dialled the next number
on his list.

Georgina borrowed Leroy's car hoping he was in no hurry to get
home tonight. The memory of the small roads around the Island
returned to her as she drove, and after only one mistake, Georgina
found herself pulling up in the drive of Barbara Dace’s
house.

The reporter's four-wheel drive was parked outside the double
garage, Georgina was pleased that it wasn't going to be a wasted
journey. She rang the bell, a light shone through the frosted glass
panel in the door. A small visible puff of air escaped Georgina's
lips, highlighted in the soft yellow glow emanating through the
door. Winter was approaching, even down as far south as she was,
though the temperature compared to Portmorion was mild by any
means. A silhouetted figure blotted out the light through the door
as it approached. Georgina could tell from her actions that Barbara
Dace was tying a dressing robe. A brighter light suddenly
illuminated the passage and a voice.

‘Who is it?’

‘Mrs Dace, its Agent O’Neil.’ Georgina pressed her identity
badge against the frosted glass, hoping that its close proximity to
the surface would render it legible.

‘Hang on a moment.’ Barbara replied, stopping before the door
to check her appearance in the mirror. The importance of looking
her best especially when confronted by younger, attractive women
was paramount to Barbara, though she would not like anyone other
than herself to know just how important. She tidied her hair with
her fingers, pushing it back and wiped the slightly smudged
lipstick from the edge of her lips, reapplying a fresh coat from an
emergency stick that was housed in a drawer in a small table under
the mirror. Barbara opened her dressing gown slightly at the top,
exposing a fraction more cleavage, having paid for a little
re-upholstery, she was dammed if she wouldn't use every tool in her
armoury. Satisfied; she opened the door.

Georgina stood there, warrant card in hand.

‘Hello, Mrs Dace.’

‘This is a surprise.’

‘I'm sorry it's so late.’ Georgina apologised, stepping in to
the threshold of the house, ‘but I really need a favour.’ Georgina
got the sense that she had interrupted something, though she wasn't
sure what.

It was a little after nine o' clock but the reporter was
dressed for bed, or undressed as Georgina could clearly tell from
the nature of the thin robe that failed in discretion.

‘I was...I was just about to take a bath.’ Barbara explained,
reading the Detective's expression. ‘So what can I do to help
you?’

A noise from upstairs confirmed Georgina's suspicion. A low
clunk followed by a creaking as somebody crossed the landing.
Georgina watched Barbara's expression but it was clear that she was
going to ignore the noise and was comfortable with the knowledge
that she knew the source. Barbara held out an arm and guided the
Detective into the lounge.