Justice and Revenge Page 6

  “I can’t explain it,” Blass said. “Maybe it came off when she was walking or something. I don’t know how my ice cream got on it. I don’t know.” He pounded his fist on the desk and stood up.

  “Get control of yourself, or they’ll make me leave,” Tyler said, as one of the guards looked harshly at them.

  Blass raised his hands in the air, sat down and folded his arms in front of his chest. He glared at the guard and back at his lawyer.

  “Explain Lissa’s blood smear on your door. Her white blouse, looking like it was cut off her back that the police found under your mattress. Some strands of her hair they found in your tub drain and on your bed. The blood spots they found that were sloppily cleaned up with bleach. The bleach bottles that were stolen earlier from the motel laundry were found under your bathroom sink.” The lawyer was frustrated. “There were even traces of the bleach on your hands. That’s a lot of damning evidence.”

  “I told you I can’t explain it,” Blass said again, trying very hard to keep calm. “I only know I didn’t do it. The police planted those things. They must have gone to my room earlier, planted all the evidence, then came back looking for me so they could pin it on me. That’s it. They put all that stuff in my room. The motel workers are in on this, and those old bags, too. They’ve all got it planned out.”

  “Couldn’t have happened. At least, not if you believe John Patel. He said no one other than guests came in or out of the motel grounds from early morning until the police came and asked him to show them your room. And he was there and saw the whole investigation and the processing of everything.”

  “I don’t know how they did it, but I know they did it,” Blass said. “They’re all in on it. I tell you it’s a big conspiracy. To get me. That’s it. They’re all out to get me. Can’t you see that? A coupla’ old bags and a freakin’ damn foreigner. The police, too. How about you? You in on it, too?”

  “Do you hear how crazy you sound?” his lawyer said. “And what were you thinking, running away from them like that? That only makes you look guiltier.” Tyler sighed again. Of course he already knew why Blass had run. His client was a wanted man who left all kinds of evidence behind wherever he committed his crimes. This guy didn’t have much going for him. The only thing Blass was skilled at was getting out of town without being seen. But that didn’t happen this time.

  “I ran away because I was scared. I didn’t know what they wanted,” he said, a tic starting to form in his right eye. Blink, blink, blink. “They were intimidating me. Threatening me. Police brutality. That kind of thing.” Blink. Blink. Blink.

  “Don’t even go there. The motel clerk witnessed the whole thing and his story matches the police report. He’s a respected member of this community. And I told you, he’s not a foreigner. He’s an American citizen. Unfortunately, now that they have you, they’ve been able to link you to other unsolved murders and disappearances along the east coast. You’re in deep water, here. Real deep.”

  “What are we going to do?” Blass asked. Blink. Blink. Blink. “Better yet. What are you going to do?”

  “What’s wrong with your eye?”

  “Whattya’ mean? There’s nothin’ wrong with my eye.”

  “All that blinking you’re doing. This must have you unnerved.”

  “You are in on it, aren’t you?” Blass said.

  His attorney leaned in close to Blass. “Plead insanity. We’ll get all kinds of shrinks to testify you didn’t know the difference between right and wrong. We’ll bring up your sad past again. We’ll find as many do-gooders as we can for the jury and, maybe, just maybe, you’ll get off again. And, if we’re lucky, they’ll send you to a mental hospital where you will be treated, miraculously cured and released.” He leaned back again. “That’s your only chance as I see it. Unless you want to plead guilty and throw yourself on the mercy of the court.”

  “No to all of that. No way. I’m innocent this time, I tell you. I didn’t kill that girl.” Blink, blink, blink. “Hey. How about getting me out on bail? Yeah. How about that? That would help.”

  “Sorry. You’re a flight risk. The judge turned you down.”

  “Well, I didn’t do it. And what if I promised not to run?”

  Tyler didn’t believe him. Ice cream stains and other clues were found at the scenes of five murders or disappearances. Six, if you count Lissa Powell. All the way from Atlantic City, New Jersey, to central Florida. The police are just too smart. They’ll mark Blass’s trail and the evidence all the way down the coast. He’s going to fry this time. And, as the father of two teenage daughters, one of whom is a redhead, Tyler didn’t want Karl Blass out of jail and at the beaches again.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Next week at the police station . . .

  “What do you think?” Officer Lopez asked the others in the room. “Enough circumstantial to get convictions? Even without a couple of the bodies?”

  She stood next to a large board covered with photographs, drawings, and outlines of murders up and down the east coast. A map with colored pushpins showed the location of each of the crimes, each pin a different color and each one numbered. Pictures of fresh young teenagers, all murdered or missing, surrounded the evidence. It was a full board.

  The other officers nodded their heads or murmured ‘yes.’

  Jim Hancock, a State Attorney, chewed on his lips. He paced back and forth. He looked at the evidence board, then paced again.

  “Let’s go over it one more time,” Lopez said, pointing as she went. “Stay with me here.”

  “Number One. Charlotte Levy. Red hair. Green eyes. Fifteen-years-old. Raped and murdered at the beach, Atlantic City, New Jersey. Blass had been seen talking with her at the beach earlier in the day. Her swimming suit cut off her body with scissors which were later retrieved from Blass’s home. Ice cream stains and Karl Blass’s DNA found on the body. Very sloppy on his part. Went to trial. Blass got off because his attorney cried the blues about his poor abusive childhood and called the DNA questionable. The jury wanted pure evidence like CSI on TV. Case called ‘The Beach Boy’ Murder.

  Number Two. One month later. Linda Nelson. Red Hair. Green eyes. Sixteen-years-old. Raped and murdered on the beach, Virginia Beach, Virginia. Body found at the water’s edge. A man fitting Blass’s description had been seen talking with her there earlier in the day. Her swim suit had been cut off her body and discarded nearby. Ice cream stains and Karl Blass’s DNA found on the body. Sloppy again. Sounds like our boy, but they couldn’t find him. He disappeared. Case attributed to ‘The Beach Boy.’

  Number Three. Ten months later. Carmen Rice. Brown Hair. Brown eyes. Must not have been any redheads around. Seventeen years old. Missing from Sunset Beach, North Carolina. A man fitting Blass’s description had been seen talking with her at the beach. No body found. Getting smarter here. Not leaving evidence behind. How’d that happen? Case attributed to ‘The Beach Boy.’

  Number Four. Two months later, Lula Finch. Brown Hair. Brown eyes. Must like brunettes now. Fifteen years old. Getting a little younger. Missing from Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. A man fitting our guy’s description had been seen talking with her by several witnesses on different occasions. No body found. Blass is missing again. Getting smarter. Case attributed to ‘The Beach Boy.’

  Number Five. Ten months later. Susan Shires, Brown Hair. Green eyes. A mixture of things he likes. Sixteen years old. Body found on the beach in Georgia. He keeps moving south. A man fitting Blass’s description seen talking with her in that area earlier in the day. Susan was found raped and murdered. Her swimsuit cut off of her. Blass’s DNA and ice cream found on her body. He’s stupid again. The case attributed to ‘The Beach Boy.’

  Number Six. One month later. Lissa Powell. Red Hair. Green eyes. He found another redhead with the green eyes he loves. Seventeen years old. Probably a runaway. Now missing from Palm Bay, Florida. A man claiming to be named Craig Bergen, but really Karl Blass, seen with her earlier in the day. Was supposed to meet her at t
he ocean at 8:30 that night. Witnesses saw her going to the beach to meet him. No body found. Her blood, hair, and cut-up bloody shirt found at Karl Blass’s motel room. One of her shoes, with ice cream stains on it, found at the beach behind The Banana Motel where Blass was living. Same ice cream found in Blass’s freezer. Motel clerk saw her go in the room with him. Did not see her come out. Sloppy clean-up job done with bleach at the motel room to eliminate some blood. Bleach found on Blass’s hands when we brought him in. He’s stupid again. Lots of first-person evidence, but no body found. Case attributed to ‘The Beach Boy.’ Blass is in custody after trying to escape. Yay for that. A couple of other girls missing up and down the coast. No bodies found. I’m tired of talking. Anybody…”

  Lopez opened the discussion to the floor. She leaned back against the wall. “Someone jump in here. Come on. Don’t everybody talk at once.”

  “Is it true you threw him into a thorn bush?” one of the officers said, laughing. Some of the others joined him, chuckling and smiling.

  “Negative. You’re just jealous because I’m stronger and faster than all of you. Someone else talk,” Lopez said. “Make some sense.”

  “The only thing we’re sure of about Lissa Powell is that she was employed for a few weeks at the surf shop,” another officer said. “According to her employer, she was an excellent salesperson and dependable. Her fingerprints and DNA were all over her work locker. We ran her prints through the data base again, and nothing turned up. It did match fingerprints found in Blass’s room. One of his fingerprints was found in her bloodstain on his motel room door. Her ID looked authentic, but all of it was forged. The best forgeries we’ve ever seen. Social Security number, everything. I’d love to know who did it. And I aim to find out. It was not done by an amateur. Our investigation showed she was never in any of the area schools. The picture that her employer gave to us was on national television. It wasn’t a great picture but showed her fair skin and red hair. We got some leads from that, but they all proved to be dead ends. We couldn’t find anyone anywhere who knew her or where she was living. Her address was a vacant lot. That wasn’t her home unless she lived in the shrubs with the snakes and the bugs. I personally went to the lot, and after seeing it, find that impossible. We’ve hit a brick wall.”

  Lopez was not happy with some of the details. There was a lot about this case she was unhappy with.

  “Has anyone contacted the families of these other victims to inform them we have Karl Blass in custody?” Hancock asked. “They’ll want to know all about this.”

  “I can answer that,” Officer Clark said. “I called Charlotte Levy’s family right away since she was the first of his victims that we know of. Charlotte’s mother is still upset that Blass got off for murdering their daughter but seemed relieved that he’s behind bars again. She said Charlotte’s father was out of town on a fishing trip, but she would call him on his cell phone and let him know what has happened. All of the other families were notified, expressing sentiments similar to the Levy’s. They want us to keep them informed on what we know. To a family, they offered to come down here if we need them for anything.”

  “Good,” Hancock said. “What’s the latest with the Coast Guard searching the ocean and river? Did they find anything? How about the creeks?”

  “Zero,” Darrell said. “Neither the coast guard nor its auxiliary have found a thing. No tourist or local have called in a find of the body or anything else related to Lissa. Not a trace of her anywhere on or along the waters. Not in the ocean. Not in the river. Not in the creeks, ponds or lakes. What a shame. We have no clue as to where her body is. I hope a gator didn’t get it. And Blass is in denial mode. Still saying he didn’t do it so he doesn’t know where she is. What a practiced liar. Wants to take a lie detector test for us. Remember, this is the same creep with a history of beating the polygraph. He could have his finger in the pie right in front of you and lie convincingly about it.”

  Some snickers were heard from the officers.

  “Hey, do we know yet who leaked to the press the successful lie detector test that Blass took with his lawyer?” Lopez asked. “The one where he denies killing Lissa.”

  “No. I didn’t recognize the byline,” Officer Edwards said. “Nor do we know who managed to get an article in the same paper, right next to the lie detector story, about how Blass has managed to beat the test in the past. Good timing for us, but I’d still like to know who had the savvy to do that.”

  “I’m just glad he’s in lockup now,” Hancock said. “He’s one of the stupidest criminals I’ve ever seen. Leaves DNA and evidence galore at all his crimes. He even leaves behind globs of ice cream, his favorite dessert. But, and this is a big one, I’ve never known anyone who can sneak out of the area as well as he can. He does the crime, then just disappears. And in some cases, so do the bodies. I hope someday he tells us how he manages it.” The attorney looked perplexed.

  “I just hope we can finally keep him off the street and get justice for these girls and their families,” Darrell said. “Before he harms someone else.”

  “We do have some good news,” Lopez said. “I got word today that an anonymous donor has stepped forward and offered to pay all the expenses incurred in the search for Lissa, plus all the trial costs. It’s a blank check, folks. The donor will pay for anything and everything related to our work on this case. This unknown person has an agent who says his client is someone who wants to see justice done. Let’s hear it for justice.” She raised her arm in the air.

  First one, then two, then three cheers went up from the officers.

  “Fantastic,” Hancock said. “That will make our end of it go a lot smoother. And when we’re done with Blass here in Florida, all those other states will want a piece of him, too. They’re gonna be standing in line with their handcuffs out. By the time everyone has had their go at him, he'll wish the gators got him, too.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Later in the week . . .

  “Yes, a donation to help defray the city and county costs of searching for Lissa and for prosecuting Karl Blass has already been sent to the police. We notified them of the offer, and a partial payment went out this morning. We will pay all of their related expenses as the bills start coming in,” Vince said. “One of our Group called the police department and said the donor was a local person. If we have to, we can use the name you gave us.”

  On the other end of the line, Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. “It was in the newspaper that a benefactor has come forth, and I just wanted to be sure the money was sent. Thank you.”

  “I think your part is finished for now, Ginny. You performed skillfully in Charlotte’s Play. Your presence made everything more believable. Charlotte Levy’s parents asked me to pass that on to you. They are appreciative of everything the Cast Members did. It helped them deal with what they went through. There’s a sense of peace and justice for all of them now. Thank you.”

  “Thank you, Daddy. They deserved no less,” Ginny said. “And I know they’ll do the same for me. For Bobby, when our Play is put on.”

  “As you know, your Play is the next one we’ll run,” Daddy said. “It’s called Bobby’s Play, for your son. You don’t have to be a part of this one, but you will be kept informed on what is happening as it unfolds. Unless you want in on it. We’ll accommodate you any way we can.”

  “No, I don't think I could stand being part of Bobby's Play. It would be too painful for me.” Ginny said. Tears slid down her lined cheeks. “Do you know for sure when it’s going to start?”

  “I’ll have a Playwright telephone you with the basic details when he has it finished,” Daddy said. “You won’t get a copy, of course. Only those involved in the execution of the Play will get a copy. But you will know how Bobby’s murderer is going to get caught and the outcome. Anything else I can help you with right now?” He felt sorry for her loss.

  “No, thank you. I’ll wait to hear from you,” Ginny said. “I’m kinda worn out from everything. I need som
e rest.”

  “Well, if there’s anything else you think of, you can call me anytime. You know that,” Daddy said. “And thank you for sending another contribution to the Dollar Dreamers. They said it came last week.”

  “You’re welcome,” Ginny said. “I’ll never miss it. It’s money well spent, and I have no one to leave it to now, anyway.”

  “I’ll be in touch,” Daddy said.

  After hanging up the phone, Ginny began to feel some peace about closure for her son. She went to the wet bar and made herself a stiff drink and sat down in her favorite chair. Though she was wealthy, none of her possessions had much meaning since the loss of her son, until Daddy contacted her, and she was able to put her wealth to good use.

  Until Bobby’s Play is finished, it is going to be rough. But for Bobby’s sake, it’ll be worth it. Here’s to you, my beloved son. She tipped her highball glass at Bobby’s photo and took a swallow.

  Ginny kicked off her shoes, sat down in her favorite chair and basked in the moment. Our turn is coming, Bobby. Your turn. She took another sip of her drink and thought about how, shortly after Glen Spade got off for murdering her son, she had been recruited for the Theater Group.

  Daddy had telephoned her and told her she had been referred to them as a serious enlistee by one of their Recruiters, Theater Group members who identify potential new members. He had asked her if she would meet soon with one of their Recruiters to discuss justice for her son. He cautioned Ginny to tell no one or it would be over. She would not get a second chance to join. Daddy had explained to her that the Theater Group is a loosely-knit but fiercely loyal band of select people, dedicated to hunting down and bringing to justice, murderers, rapists and other criminals across the country - the ones who got away or got off. Specifically, he said, they bring justice for the loved ones of the Theater Group. And they always get their man or woman. Always.