Chapter Thirty-Two

Outside the Police Administration Building, the sky was turning. Helped by the constant wind that blew in from the North Pacific, menacing dark clouds had started gathering over Downtown Los Angeles, making it look like either a solar eclipse or doomsday was just around the corner.

As Hunter told the switchboard operator to connect Joseph's call, Garcia and Captain Blake stepped closer to his desk, but as the operator patched the call through, all they got was a cracking/static sound, then nothing… just silence.

Hunter frowned at the phone. ‘Hello…? Joe…?'

The line cracked again.

‘Joseph…?'

And again.

‘Are you there?'

Joseph's voice finally came through the intercom speaker.

‘Hello? Is this Detective… Robert Hunter? Can anyone hear me?'

‘Yes. It's a bad line,' Hunter replied. ‘But I can hear you now. Joseph?'

‘It's Joe,'the voice said, a sliver of annoyance already detectable in his tone. ‘I don't use the name Joseph anymore.'

‘I apologize, Joe. And please, call me Robert.'

‘I don't think that that will be necessary, Detective. This won't be a long call. All I wanted to do was ask the LAPD… again… to stop calling me. And please, stop making up stuff just to get me to call you back. I – don't – know – where Terry Wilford is. And I don't care to know either. Can you guys please get that through your heads?'

‘Making up stuff?' Garcia mouthed the words at Hunter. ‘What did you say?'

Hunter gave Garcia a very subtle shake of the head. ‘I'm sorry, Joe, but what do you mean by "making up stuff"?'

‘Are you joking?'

‘Not at this moment, Joe, no.'

Hunter heard Joe breathe out an irritated breath.

‘All right, I'm going to explain this to you really slowly, in case you are as dumb as the first detective who called me, OK?'

Hunter glanced at Garcia and Captain Blake.

‘About three weeks ago,'Joe began. ‘I get my first call from a Detective Cohen from the LAPD. He left me a message telling me that Terry's gone missing, wanting to know if I knew where he was.' He chuckled a little nervously. ‘As if I would know, or even care about that man. I stupidly believed that my best move would be to simply ignore the message, but the dude just wouldn't quit – leaving message, after message, after message. I finally called him back and very politely explained that I hadn't seen, talked to, or even heard from Terry in five years. I did my best to make all of that perfectly clear, including the fact that I – don't – care – what happens to Terry. I thought that I had managed to get the message through, but as it turned out – that wasn't the case.'

There was another pause, and this time Hunter could hear the sound of a cigarette lighter flicking, followed by a long drag.

‘Just over a week ago, I get a new message – Detective Cohen again – telling me that Terry had taken his own life.'Another long drag. ‘That was hard to believe, I'll tell you that. My luck has never been that good, but hey, guilt and karma can be a real bitch sometimes, you know? Anyway, I really had nothing to say about that, so I never called back. Now imagine my surprise when this morning I wake up to a whole new message from the LAPD… a whole new version to this fucking soap opera – there was no suicide. Terry was murdered.' Joe laughed nervously. ‘What's next? Abducted by aliens? Jesus, guys. So I'm calling to say this for the las—'

‘Joe,' Hunter cut him short. ‘Please listen to me.'

‘No, Detective. You listen to—'

‘None of it was a lie.' Hunter tried to grab Joe's attention again, but the kid really didn't seem to care.

‘Let it go, already, will you? I don't care—'

Hunter hated having to resort to shock tactics, but this wasn't going at all as he had envisaged it.

‘I know what your father did to you, Joe,' he said, his tone non-aggressive… friendly even.

The stunned silence that followed didn't come only from Joe. Garcia and Captain Blake were both looking back at Hunter in disbelief.

Hunter's decision to refer to Terry Wilford as ‘your father' was risky. He knew that, but he had a very good understanding of how emotions and the human brain worked, and he had seen Terry Wilford's family photo album – he'd seen the laughter that Terry had evoked in Joe and his mother with his silly face at Christmastime. He'd seen the smile on Joe's lips when Terry had carried him on his shoulders when he was a little boy. Despite how much Joe seemed to hate Terry Wilford at present, that sacred ‘father/son' relationship had existed, at least for a while, and those were the sorts of emotions that very rarely fully disappeared without leaving any kind of residue behind. If Hunter could tap into just one happy ‘father/son' memory, then maybe he had a chance of enlisting Joe's help.

‘I can understand why you would feel the way you do toward him,' Hunter continued. ‘But please believe me, Joe – none of what you were told was made up. That was the exact sequence in which those events played out. Your father did go missing without a trace around June 21st. You are immediate family, so of course you had to be contacted. We had no way of knowing what kind of relationship you and your father had at present, so a reasonable assumption would be that he could've decided to go visit his son and didn't tell anyone.'

Another uneasy laugh from Joe. ‘As if.'

‘Missing Persons did the best they could to try to track down your father,' Hunter explained. ‘But unfortunately, they got nowhere… until just over a week ago – on July 1st – when your father's body was found at the bottom of the 7th Street Bridge here in Los Angeles. All indicated to suicide.'

Hunter's pause was deliberate, analytical – not too short, not too long – but this time he got nothing back from Joe. No nervous chuckle, no annoyed deep breath, no quick retort… just silence, and that was a good sign. No matter how much Joe disliked his father, the news of losing him in such a desperate way was always going to be shocking and emotional. Joe's silence could mean that memories were being accessed, taking him back to happier days.

‘Again,' Hunter carried on. ‘You being immediate family, you had to be informed of his passing. It was only during your father's post-mortem examination, two days ago, that suicide was ruled out. He didn't end his life, Joe. It was taken from him.'

The silence that followed before Joe said anything was tense… anxious. When he finally spoke, the anger in his voice seemed to have lost most of its momentum.

‘You said that you knew what my father had done to me. How could you possibly know any of that?'

This was the first time that Joe had referred to Terry Wilford as ‘my father'. Part of that safety wall was starting to come down.

The look that Captain Blake gave Hunter spoke for itself: You dug yourself into that hole. Now dig yourself out.

‘You're right,' Hunter accepted. ‘I can't possibly know exactly how much hurt your father has brought into your life. And I apologize if what I said came across as patronizing. That wasn't my intention. But I do understand that he has physically and psychologically hurt you. The signs of which you'll carry for life, and I'm truly sorry for that.' Another breathing pause. ‘But I'm going to be completely honest with you, Joe. The reason why I wanted to get in touch with you wasn't just to inform you of what was discovered during your father's post-mortem examination. I wanted to get in touch with you because we really need your help.'

The line cracked again.

‘Joe…?' Hunter called. ‘Are you still there?'

Another flick of the lighter. Another long cigarette drag.

‘Yes, I'm still here. What kind of help are you talking about, Detective? I can't get my ass to LA, if that's what you mean. And I also don't have the means to provide for a funeral, you know?'

As he said the word ‘funeral', Hunter heard Joe's voice slightly falter.

‘The state will do that for you, Joe,' Hunter informed him. ‘You don't have to worry. And no, that's not the sort of help I need.'

‘So what, then?'

Hunter swiveled his chair to look at the picture board. ‘These kinds of conversations are better to have face to face, but I understand that you can't make the trip to LA, so I propose that I either come to you in Chandler…'

Hunter saw a wide-eyed Captain Blake immediately lift her index finger at him and mouth the words: ‘One word – budget – no chance.'

‘Or we can just chat over the phone. It's your choice, Joe.'

‘What exactly is it that you need from me, Detective?'

‘Information.'

Joe seemed to hesitate. ‘Information about what? I told you that I haven't seen or spoken to my father in five years. I know nothing about his life. Honestly, I didn't even know that he was in LA.'

‘No,' Hunter replied. ‘That's not the sort of information I need. And I know that this is a very delicate subject, Joe, but what I need to know is a little more about the time that you were together as a family. I need to know how violent your father really was.'

The silence that followed was absolute, as if the line had gone dead. Hunter looked at Garcia and Captain Blake. Both of them shrugged back at him.

‘Very,'Joe finally replied. ‘That's your answer, Detective. He was very violent. Can I go now? Are we done here?'

Hunter grimaced at the phone. ‘I'm afraid I'm going to need you to be a little more specific, Joe.'

‘No, Detective.'Some of the anger was back in Joe's voice. ‘I've been trying to put all that behind me for five years now. I moved towns so that places and people wouldn't bring back memories… so that social services wouldn't take me because my father just upped and left after Mom died. I changed my name because I didn't want any part of him in my life. I've been trying to move on from all that hurt… all that pain… and I was doing all right until about a month ago, when I got the first call from you guys, telling me that Terry had gone missing.' Joe sucked in a lumpy breath. ‘And d'you know what, Detective? I – was – scared. I was scared that he was coming to find me, and just like that.' He snapped his fingers. ‘All the memories that I've been trying so hard to forget were back… the nightmares are all back. So yes, Detective, we're done here. Please don't call me again.'

‘Joe, wait.' Hunter's voice was urgent. ‘He's not the only one.'

Silence came back to the line, but there was no dial tone. Joe hadn't disconnected yet.

‘There are others, Joe.'

‘Others what?'

‘There are other victims,' Hunter said. ‘The person who took your father's life… it wasn't an accident. It wasn't over an argument in a bar, it wasn't in a street fight for some silly reason either. The person who took your father's life has killed before. He's been doing it for years, Joe. And if we don't stop him, he'll kill again. And he'll keep on killing. The information I'm asking for can help us stop him. Please, Joe.'

‘Hold on a second here,'Joe came back. This time, there was a doubtful lilt to his tone. ‘Are you trying to tell me that my father was murdered by a serial killer? Are you fucking kidding me?'

‘No, Joe, I'm not kidding you,' Hunter replied. ‘And yes, like I've said, the person who took your father's life has killed before… more than once, so, by definition, he falls into the category of a serial killer.'

‘Oh, c'mon! Really? So instead of the "alien abduction" scenario you decided to go with the "serial killer" one? Gimme a fucking break.'

‘Do you remember my name?' Hunter asked.

‘What?'

‘My name. I stated my name when I left you the message this morning. Do you remember it?'

‘Yeah – Detective Hunter… Robert Hunter. So?'

‘My partner and I run a specialized unit for the LAPD Robbery Homicide Division called the Ultra Violent Crimes Unit,' Hunter explained. ‘UVC Unit for short. Please Google it.'

‘What?'

‘Please,' Hunter urged Joe. ‘Open the browser on your phone or on your laptop and Google "LAPD Ultra Violent Crimes Unit". We are one of only three police departments in the whole of America who run a UVC Unit. On the LAPD website, you'll find a link to our unit. Please have a look at it. It will describe the kind of crimes we investigate… the kind of criminals that we go after. We don't investigate everyday homicide, Joe. The Robbery Homicide Division does that.'

‘Are you for real?'

‘I am. Please, just Google it. I'll wait. You'll even get to see a picture of us.'

‘All right,'Joe sounded defiant. ‘I will.'

Hunter muted his side of the call.

Captain Blake nodded at him. ‘Good call.'

‘I hate my picture on that webpage,' Garcia commented, turning to face the captain. ‘Could we do something about that? Upload a new one, maybe?'

She looked at him over the rim of her glasses. ‘It's the LAPD website, Carlos. Not Instagram. You're supposed to look like a donkey.'

Garcia's surprised eyes moved to his partner. ‘I look like a donkey on that photo? Really?'

‘We all do,' Hunter replied.

‘Well, that can't be good.'

‘Why?'Joe's voice came through the intercom speaker once again. The defiant tone was all but gone.

Hunter unmuted his side.

‘Why would a serial killer go after my dad?'

Joe had just moved from ‘my father' to ‘my dad'. The fact that Hunter wasn't lying seemed to have knocked another chunk off Joe's safety wall.

‘We don't know yet, Joe,' Hunter explained. ‘But the information I need from you can help us figure that out too.'

Joe paused. Another good sign. Hunter jumped at the chance.

‘Maybe I could try to make this a little easier for both of us,' he suggested. ‘Instead of you telling me all that has happened back when you were a young kid, how about I ask you a few specific questions and you can just reply "yes" or "no"? It might make things a little easier. What do you think?'

Another prolonged silence.

‘OK. Let's try that.'