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The Exterminator A James Everhard Adventure by Wayne Wallace
Scene 1 A match flared and cast a yellow glow around the alley in which Bart Mason waited as he lit a cigarette. The alley was dark and slimy garbage cans lined the wall behind the greasy spoon on the corner Stagnant pools of water stood every few feet and rats climbed in and out of the trash cans, feasting on the rotting meat. Their red eyes glowed in the darkness. Bart could wait all night if he had to. If nothing else, he had learned patience in his ten years behind prison walls. He knew that the old man came this way every night on his way home. He also knew that the he would have the day’s receipts from his grocery in a paper sack in his coat pocket. This would be an easy score, probably just a hundred bucks or so, but it would allow him to buy some food and a bottle, a carton of smokes, and he would pay the rent on his flea bag room for another week, until he could make yet another score. Such had been his life since getting out of stir two months ago. This way of making a living was much easier and more profitable than washing dishes in the greasy spoon diner just a few feet behind him. Yes, much better indeed. Then he heard the footsteps of the old man approaching. His grip tightened on the lead pipe in his hand, and he crept through the dark, towards the sidewalk. When the old man appeared just ahead of Mason on the sidewalk, Mason lunged for him, planning to drag him into the alley. But the swiftness and agility the old man displayed surprised Mason. The old man jumped back and swiftly kicked him painfully in the groin. Mason went down on his knees groaning. Then the old man slowly pulled a silenced pistol out of his coat and put two bullets into the forehead of Bart Mason. Bart fell forward and splashed into a stagnant pool of water. The old man looked around and seeing no one, hurried around the corner, pulled out his keys and unlocked the nondescript gray ford sedan and drove away. When he was sure no one was following him, he pulled up to the curb on a dark side street and pulled off the white wig and glasses and stuffed them into his blue gym bag. The thrill of yet another successful kill was still rushing through his veins. This was his third such “extermination” in as many weeks and he was having the time of his life! Besides, who could fault him, he was doing the world, and the city of Tulsa in particular, a favor in that he was “exterminating” the vermin that preyed upon the old and weak. By killing these first three piles of human waste, he had probably saved the lives of several elderly citizens. Hell, the city should give him a medal! He howled with laughter and drove away into the night.
Scene 2 Chief of Detectives Bill Chapel (pronounced Chape – el) was sitting at his desk, chewing on the ever present, foul smelling, cigar butt that he kept wedged between his upper and lower teeth and growling over the report he was reading. It seemed another ex con had turned up with two bullets in his head in a South Tulsa alley this morning. The Coroner fixed the time of death at around 11 PM. Two .22 caliber slugs into the brain from straight on and slightly above.. The .22 casings were found in the alley about ten feet from the body. Ballistics had the casings, Remington rim fire, hollow points, nothing else unusual about them so far. The deceased was one Barthalomew Jeffrey Mason. He was male, caucasian, with no known address. The deceased had been 37 years old, and he had been released from McAlister State Prison two months ago, after serving ten years of a fifteen to twenty, for armed robbery and grand theft auto. He was a three time loser and just one more felony conviction and he would have gone away for life, as required by Oklahoma law. No known next of kin, no known place of employment, presumed to be homeless and a street dweller. “Jesus, Joseph and Mary,” Chaple muttered under his cigar scented breath, “The same fricking M.O. as the other two. Shit! We got us a gal damned serial killer right here in good old Tulsa, America, Chief Chapel tossed the file on his desk and the 8 X 10 glossies of the deceased slid out of their cover and spread across the desk. Chapel stared at them. ‘What a fricking loser,’ Chapel thought. A tear drop had been tattoed on his left cheek, just under his eye and jailhouse tattoes covered both arms from shoulder to wrist. ‘This asshole has been in and out of every major jail in Oklahoma since he had turned eighteen. I’m actually glad he’s off the streets’, Chapel thought, ‘Same story with the other two that were shot. Is this guy some sort of vigilante or something?’ Chief Chapel picked up the mornings Tulsa World. The killing had made the front page. The Tulsa World’s feature writer was trying to tie the three killings in recent weeks together in his story and was playing up the fact that the three “victims” had been poor homeless persons and that some vicious killer was preying on the homeless. There was, however,no mention of the three homeless men’s lengthy rap sheets. “Friggin liberal rag!” Chapel muttered. “The Chief will damn sure be on my ass now.” Chapel cursed as his prophesy came to be, and the Chief of Police’s button lit and buzzed on Chapel’s phone. “Yeah Chief?” Chapel grunted into the receiver. “Chapel, my office, now.” The Chief said and then hung up. “Shit!”, Chapel said, “just two more years and I’m retiring to the Keys, drinking Tecates and chasing Mexican Hotties. Just two more frickin years.” Chapel pulled on his suit coat and reluctantly headed towards the Chief’s office humming Marguritaville to himself.. Chapel knew just what Chief Greer was going to say. It was going to be a scene from every bad “Dirty Hairy” movie he had ever seen. Greer was a politician at heart, not a true cop. He had his sights on the Governor’s office in the not too distant future and a “serial killer” in “T-town” was not going to be good for his image, etc., etc. Chapel knocked once, as was the custom, waited for Greer to call him in, then entered the office. “Chief Chapel, have you read this morning’s Tulsa World ?” Greer asked. “Yes Chief, I have. That liberal fricking rag is just playing up the homeless angle. I bet it didn’t even make page twenty in the Oklahoma City paper.” Chapel answered. “Doesn’t make a damn bit of difference Bill,” the Chief of Police said, “people in Tulsa read the World and it’s making us look bad. Now I want this killer and I want him like yesterday! Is that understood, Bill?” “Doin’ all we can Chief. There isn’t much to go on.” Chapel argued. “Put everybody you have on this, top priority. Nail this bastard, understood?” The Chief yelled. “Right Chief Greer, got it.” Chapel answered and exited the office. “Asshole,” he muttered after the door shut.
Scene 3 In the basement of his home, the man the Tulsa World had already tagged; The Exterminator,” was taping this morning’s front page story onto the wall. “They didn’t say a thing about the scum I killed being merciless, predators and deserving of their fates,” he said aloud, even though there was no one else in the basement to hear him. “This guy made them seem like victims. I need to show these ignorant press types what I’m trying to accomplish here. I think the next extermination will give them a better idea,” he said aloud. “Yes, I know exactly what I’ll do next time.” He laughed aloud and sat down at his computer screen and began to type:
“The Reverend Homer Winslow, the self-righteous television Evangelist is and has been for all his adult life, a perverted, pedophile, who takes the lives of small boys for his own perverse pleasures. He has raped, tortured, and murdered seven small boys over the past eight years. Their remains can be found in shallow graves in a clearing on the northern shore of Skiatook Lake off State Highway 20. I have sentenced him to death. May God have mercy on his soul. The Exterminator
The man hit the print key and listened as his Laser jet printer worked. He put on surgical gloves before touching the paper or the envelope in which he put it. He moistened one gloved finger under the faucet and moistened the envelopes glue, and pressed it closed. He placed the envelope in a plastic bag, and climbed the stairs to the first floor of his home. ‘He liked the new name the Tulsa World had given him, it was just right for his purposes,’ he thought and began to dress to go out for the evening.
Scene 4 The Reverend Homer Winslow had just finished taping another half hour television spot at the Channel 2 television studios and was heading for his black Mercedes sedan in the parking lot. The security system in the car chirped as he pressed ‘unlock’ on his keychain mounted remote. Reverend Winslow slid in behind the wheel on the rich leather seats and started the car. He headed downtown. He knew just where “Ethan” would be and he hungered for him. Downtown Tulsa was never very crowded after dark, all the nightlife usually took place north of there or in the numerous Tulsa suburbs. Old downtown had become a haven for drug dealers and hookers, both straight and gay. Only an occasional squad car rolled through the area to make sure that all hell hadn’t broken loose”. Tonight, business it seemed, was slow. The black Mercedes had just circled the block one time before the good Reverend sighted Ethan, leaning against an old brick building. He pulled the car to the curb and Ethan hurried to the car, opened the door and got in. The Mercedes sped away from the curb as quickly as it had pulled in. A witness would later tell police that the windows of the car were tinted and she couldn’t see inside, but that the vanity plate on the Mercedes read, “GIVE.” Reverend Winslow drove north on I-75 He and Ethan were sharing a “joint” and laughing. Ethan changed the radio station, found a song he liked and turned up the volume. Winslow exited the Interstate at the Collinsville exit and drove east on an old farm road. Five minutes or so later, he pulled the car off the road and turned off the engine and the lights. The drivers window was left down about six inches so that the cool evening breeze could circulate through the luxury sedan. Winslow pulled a one hundred dollar bill out of his wallet and stuck it into Ethan’s shirt pocket “Same thing tonight preacher?” Ethan asked. “Yes Ethan, you know what I like,” Winslow said. Ethan unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down his legs. Reverend Winslow buried his head in the teenager’s lap. The man silently approached the black Mercedes, staying in the shadows as much as possible. There was no moon tonight and the old farm road was as dark as pitch. At the door of the Mercedes, the man saw what was taking place inside. Ethan was hitting deeply on the joint while the preacher was at work . The man took out his silenced automatic and quickly pumped two slugs into the men. The first entered Ethan’s forehead above the bridge of his nose, killing him instantly. The other took the preacher in the back of the head. The two men died in the positions they were in when the shots were fired. The man took the envelope from his pocket and removed it from the plastic bag. He reached into the car and placed it on the Mercedes dashboard. Then the man turned and walked quickly back to his car and headed back to Tulsa.
Scene 5 Detective Captain Chapel pulled up to the scene and parked his unmarked cruiser. The yellow, crime scene tape had already been put in place in order to try to preserve the forensics at the scene. There were a dozen or so Tulsa PD cars, two Highway Patrol cars, and worst of all, three different news vans parked on the old farm road. A farmer had found the car and its deceased passengers less than an hour ago and immediately called 911. The police were dispatched and the newsboys apparently heard it on a police scanner, hence this public mob scene. As detective Chapel made his way towards the black Mercedes, three reporters stuck microphones in his face and started firing questions at him. “No comment, Jesus guys, I haven’t even been to the scene yet. We’ll make a statement as soon as we can. And no frigging pictures of the car! You got that? I’ll shove those cameras up your collected asses if even one of you shoots this scene before we give clearance. You got that?” Before Chapel reached the crime scene, a news helicopter buzzed overhead. Chapel turned to the news reporters and yelled, “And get that son-of-a-bitch out of here, or we’ll shoot his ass down!” One of the newsmen got on a portable radio and said something into it. Seconds later, the helicopter banked left and flew away. “What’ve we got Ed?” Chapel asked his lieutenant. “Faggot Festival Captain.” The Lieutenant waited for laughter; none came. “Well, it appears to be the Reverend Homer Winslow and a boy hooker we’ve busted before named Ethan. Both popped at short range with a small caliber weapon. The Lieutenant chuckled and said, ”Looks like ol’ Ethan came and went at the same time”, again looking for laughter. “Look asshole! I’m not in the mood for any of your homophobe jokes,” Captain Chapel growled around his cigar,” now give it to me straight or get the fuck outa’ here!” “Yes sir, Captain that’s about all there is to it. The M.E. hasn’t arrived yet. Forensics is dusting for prints. There’s some car tracks about one hundred yards back to the south, and a few footprints. We’re getting photos and casts of them now. Winslow’s wallet was on the floor of the car,. it had over five grand in hundreds in it, undisturbed. Guess robbery wasn’t the motive. And uh, Captain, one other thing. There’s an envelope on the dashboard.-- It’s addressed to you sir”. “To me?!’ What the hell?” Chapel said. He looked inside the car, and sure enough, neatly typed on the outside of an envelope was his name and rank. “Have forensics get that envelope to me as soon as possible!” Chapel turned and headed for his car. He growled at one of the newsmen, startling him and making him stumble and fall. The other newsmen laughed, Chapel just gave them a one finger salute and drove away.
Scene 6 Chapel sat at his desk, reading the letter left for him at the crime scene through a clear plastic cover. Reading the Exterminator’s indictment of and ultimately, the sentencing of Homer Winslow made chills run up Chapel’s back. Did this nut case enjoy being judge, jury and executioner? Apparently he did, and if Chapel didn’t find him soon, he knew that this person would strike again and again. Could this be true about the child murders? He had no choice but to find out. He picked up his phone. Nelson, this is Chapel, get a team and the cadaver dogs up to Lake Skiatook right away. Yes, I’ll meet you there. The north shore, ok?” His next call was to the Chief of Police. The Chief wanted to be at the lakeshore himself with the team. Chapel cursed under his breath, knowing that this meant a media circus. The scene at the lake was even beyond Chapel’s worst expectations. There were more news vehicles there than there were police vehicles. Three news helicopters buzzed overhead. Chief Greer was conducting a press conference concerning the murder of Reverend Winslow and the contents of the letter, allegedly left by the killer and dozens of other things that shouldn’t have been given to the media, but Greer was in his element. One of the cadaver dogs began howling and pawing at the ground. The team began carefully excavating at the sight the dog had discovered. Moments later, the partially decomposed body of a naked boy was unearthed. The press tried to get photos but Chapel ordered a dozen uniforms to keep the bastards back. The Medical Examiner began his investigation. The body was apparently that of one Bobby Grady, a six year old who had been missing for about a week. Chapel heard cadaver dogs howling and barking from several different locations during the next several hours. Before darkness brought an end to a long and horrible day, seven sets of remains had been uncovered. Chapel went home to his apartment and showered for almost an hour and still didn’t feel clean. Then he went to bed. But there would be no sleep for the weary detective that night. He kept running what he knew about this “Exterminator” through his mind, over and over. By the time the exhausted detective finally fell asleep, the sky was turning pink on the eastern horizon.
Scene 7 The man read the mornings Tulsa World excitedly. The entire front page and nearly all of pages three, four and five were covered with pictures and the story of the Reverend Winslow’s murder, the letter, and the finding of seven young bodies at Lake Skiatook. The headlines read: “Exterminator Executes Minister and Tells Police Where to Find Young Boy’s Bodies,” using type larger than the World had used on the reporting of the 9-11 tragedy. The man was very happy this morning. ‘The media is finally realizing that I’m doing what our inadequate Police Department and Judicial System is totally incapable of doing. Getting the vermin off the street!” he said aloud. “And it isn’t costing honest taxpayers a dime!” he laughed aloud. The Tulsa World told of how seven missing children cases, covering eight years, from in and around Tulsa had apparently been solved in one day. The Medical Examiner had matched DNA evidence in and on the body of Bobby Grady with that of Homer Winslow. The writer had said: “a nice, neat little package. Some excellent detective work, perhaps police shouldn’t catch this man but instead, put him on the payroll” The man chuckled aloud as he taped the newspaper clippings to his basement wall.
Scene 8 The Detective’s situation room at Tulsa Police Headquarters had been turned into the “Exterminator” room. 8 X 10 black and whites of the five murder victims hung from the bulletin board. A copy of the letter the Exterminator had written also hung there. An area map hung on another wall with red X’s marking the murder sights and yellow ribbon connecting them. Chapel addressed his detectives. “Okay, let’s find an answer to this one. How did this whacko know about the missing boys?” One of the younger detectives answered, “Maybe this guys a priest and heard the Exterminator’s confession.” “Not a bad theory except Winslow wasn’t Catholic”, Chapel said. “Anything on our blotter at all about Winslow.?” “Black and white rolled to his home about two weeks ago. A reported burglary, TV’s, electronics taken, no cash or guns. Nothing found as yet. Another detective read from a manila folder. “Just don’t add up. How does this guy know about all these murders. Then wait eight years to make a move? He must have just found out about them,” Chapel said while chewing on his cigar butt. Bob Nelson was another long time detective who had done uniform duty with Chapel in the old days. He leaned back in his chair and said; “Bill, no one here has stated the obvious yet. Why are we in such a breakneck hurry to bust this guy? Hell, he’s closed more cases this month than we have all year!” Silence fell over the room, everyone waited for the boss to answer that question. “You guys know that vigilante justice never works. There have been no trials, no sentences, no juries. This guy has found them guilty and carried out death sentences. The justice system doesn’t work that way. He’s playing God and we can’t let that happen.” Chapel paced the room as he answered the question like a defense attorney addressing a jury. “What if he decides that someone he just doesn’t care for is a criminal. Is it okay for him to pop the guy and tell us he was dirty?” Chapel said. “Seems like he was correct about the Preacher”, Nelson deadpanned. “Hit the streets you lazy shit heads!” Chapel yelled, “I want a minute by minute report on everywhere Winslow’s been for the past two weeks. Everyonr he talked to. We need answers. How did our boy know about the missing boys?” Back here tomorrow morning at nine, The detectives filed out of the room and Chapel picked up the phone and called a number he knew by heart. A very familiar voice answered. “Hey Molly, feel like company? I need a profile on a vigilante serial killer, feel like a challenge? Okay Doc. I’ll be there in an hour or so. And, thanks baby, I can always count on you.” He hung up, put on his coat and headed for the parking lot. Doctor Mollie Waska was a psychiatrist who had been a close friend of Chapel’s for two or three years. She had a modest practice in Tulsa, and had helped Chapel solve some very tough cases in the past, by coming up with a likely profile of the serial killer. It was Dr. Waska’s expert testimony that put former Insurance Executive C.D. Houston on death row after a string of murders that had earned him the tag of “the Assassin”. Chapel hoped she could shed some light on “the Exterminator” as well. Chapel pulled up in front of Dr. Molly Waska’s spacious north side home and crossed the lawn to her door. There were still some patches of snow on the lawn from a mid December storm that had hit the Tulsa area. Dr. Waska was waiting for him at the door and hugged the detective and welcomed him into her home. “It’s so good to see you, you old dog!” Dr. Waska joked. “Good to lay eyes on you again too Molly my dear,” Chapel said, “just sorry it has to be all about serial killers”. Chapel looked at her. She was a beautiful woman. Her auburn hair was streaked with gray, and her dark eyes could mesmerize any man. She looked younger than her 60 years, even with the telltale gray streaks in her long hair. Her athletic body and ample breasts made Chapel wish this were anything but a business visit. “Come into my study Bill,” Molly invited, “we can work there.” Chapel followed the beautiful psychiatrist into the study and sat in one of the leather chairs beside her massive mahogany desk. “I have a pot of coffee brewing, how about a cup?” Molly asked. “Sounds great!” Chapel replied. Molly retreated to the kitchen. Chapel looked around the spacious study and was slightly shocked to see a beautiful Christmas tree with all the trimmings and Christmas decorations all around the room. ‘Christ, is it Christmas already?’ Chapel thought. He had been so involved with this “Exterminator” case that he had forgotten all about Christmas. In fact, he looked at the date on his wristwatch, the 24th. ‘Oh My God, It’s Christmas Eve! What a jerk, coming here on business on Christmas Eve!’ Chapel walked toward the Christmas tree and he smelled the wonderful pine and cinnamon scents of Christmas. Christmas music was playing on Molly’s stereo.
“I’ll be home for Christmas”
Chapel thought about past Christmases with his family. He thought about his ex-wife Donna and his son Rick. How long had it been, five years, six?
“You can count on me.”
Donna had tired quickly of his other love – his police work. He was always working late and on holidays. He seemed to always forget birthdays and anniversaries. He knew that his career had always been a cruel mistress. It had eventually cost him his family.
“Please have snow and mistletoe”
The detective thought about his last Christmas with Donna and Rick. Since that time he had never celebrated Christmas. It was just another day to him. Besides, it hurt to think about the past. But Hell, he was being thoughtless, trying to get the Doc to work on Christmas Eve. When she came back in, he would just apologize and go home.
“And presents on the tree”
The sounds and sights and smells of Christmas were everywhere in the room. Chapel forced the thoughts from his mind and tried to concentrate on “The Exterminator.”
“Christmas Eve will find me”
Molly entered the room with two mugs of coffee and watched the tough detective, obviously lost in thought, by the Christmas tree. ‘Did Bill Chapel have a soft side? She thought she had fallen in love with him while they were working together on the Houston case. But since that time, she was not sure if he felt anything for her. Was his visit here on a lonely Christmas Eve really all business? She had been so alone since the death of her husband Phil five years ago. Bill Chapel had been the only man she had even thought about since Phil’s death’. She decided that bold action was needed tonight and she would find out once and for all if Bill Chapel was all about business tonight, or if a little carnal pleasure might be on his mind. Molly walked up to the detective and said, softly “Merry Christmas Bill.” Then she kissed him softly.
“Where the love light gleams”
In the gentle warmth of their embrace, months of tension and stress evaporated into the magic of the night. “Molly took Bill’s hand and led him through her bedroom door. Just inside, she turned to him, before he could say anything. She would not let this end. This was the night—the night they had both been waiting for. She put her mouth to his, long and hot and slow, her fingers going to the buttons of his blue oxford shirt. ‘If there was any doubt as to what this night held in store’, Bill Chapel thought ‘it was gone.’ Molly’s fingers were cool against the hard –gridded muscles of his belly, and he flinched as she continued downward. She stopped momentarily and looked at him. Their eyes met in the dim light, and he saw quick tears before she could manage to look away. “Hey,” He rubbed his rough fingers just under her chin and she glanced up at him. “You okay?” It was his way of asking if she was sure she wanted to go through with this, Molly knew. She nodded, her hands going to his belt buckle, dipping inside the front of his pleated trousers. He sucked in his breath and she grinned. “You?” “I’m fine” he whispered, reaching to begin the long row of buttons down the front of her blouse. Nick’s warm hands closed around Molly’s wrist pulling her towards him just as she let her panties fall to the floor. Her nipples were flush against his chest, hard and pebbled with desire. Bill’s uncertainty fled. She wanted him, no doubt about that – but not as much as he wanted her, he’d be willing to bet. He was hard and throbbing against her belly, and she moaned in her throat as his mouth came across hers once again in a hungry, demanding kiss. He backed her to the bed, feeling her give herself to him before he ever entered her. She reached for him, guiding him to her, and as he went into her, he felt the urgency subside and become something gentler. He held her beneath him, loving her, giving all of himself – the first time he’d ever done that he realized. He’d been a selfish son-of-a-bitch up until now. Molly had waited him out, let the bitterness of his first marriage he’d suffered through fade until he could see how much she loved him….how much he loved her. He squeezed his eyes shut. Why had he waited so damn long? Maybe it had to be this way.
“I’ll be home for Christmas”
He was. He was finally home, in every sense of the word. He felt tears wetting his cheeks, and lifted his head to look at her. “Molly” he whispered, “I love you.” She nodded, reaching to trace his lips with her thumb. “I know darling,” she lifted her head to kiss him and said, so show me.”
Scene 9 The man the papers were calling “The Exterminator” was working at the Saint Andrews Rescue Mission Soup Kitchen on this Christmas day.. He volunteered there two days a week, dishing out soup and serving bread to the street people of Tulsa at lunch time. A sloppily dressed middle-aged man wearing a Titlist golf cap and sporting a scraggily beard making him appear at least ten years older than he was spoke softly to the man as his soup bowl was being filled. “Mr. Connors, (not really his name), I have some information for you. I think you’ll really like it.” “Very good Willy, sit down and eat, I’ll join you in a few minutes.” Willy Foster smiled and moved towards an unoccupied table in the church basement. Selling Mr. Conners information he knew about street thugs and petty thieves and burglars made him a few bucks every week. After the man had served everyone in line, he looked around to see if anyone was watching and the walked over to the table at which Willy was seated and said, “The Lord provides for those who believe in him.” Willy Foster replied a bit loudly, “Amen brother!” The man sat down and took Willy Foster’s hand and bowed his head, pretending to pray with the unfortunate soul. “What do you have Willy?” the man asked in a low voice, without looking up. “A hooker that works the downtown area Mr. Connors,” Willy told him, also in a low voice. “Why should I be interested in a hooker Willy?” The man asked. “This one’s a bad one Mr. Connors, she’s got the AIDS and she’s knowingly infecting every man she can before she kicks off. See, a man gave her the AIDS and she’s a dyke and she really hates men. It’s her way of getting even. Her lover is her pimp and sometimes, they rob the john and infect him to boot. They are really some sick bitches Mr. Connors.” “Alright, Willy I think I can use this information, how do I recognize her? The man asked. Her corner is Yale & 51st, she’s a redhead, quite a looker and she has a snake tattoo on her right arm. She’s there most every night.” Willy told the man. “Very good Willy,” the man told him as he quickly pushed a $20 dollar bill into the pocket of his ragged shirt. “Praise the Lord Brother,” the man said loudly as he walked back to the serving line to serve more “unfortunate souls” who had come into the church.
Scene 10 Christmas Eve for Bill and Molly was one of reawakening for long neglected passions and emotions and even longer unpracticed physical reactions to those emotions. It was very early on Christmas morning before the two exhausted lovers slipped into a fully satisfied and deep sleep. Bill awoke on Christmas morning with a start. For just a moment, he didn’t know where he was, or why. He smiled as it all began to come back to him. He thought of the passion that he had felt for Molly during the night and how long it had been since he had felt that way about anyone. He was alone in the bed now and he wondered where Molly had gone. Then the scent of frying bacon reached him and he smiled again. He thought how nice it would be to awaken like this every morning. ‘But would Molly be able to tolerate his work ethic? Would his career do to them what it had done to him and Donna? No’, he thought, ‘Molly was a detective herself, and a damned good one. They could work together, at least until he retired. Then they could enjoy the good life together’. Bill’s thoughts were running wild. He wasn’t even sure that Molly was thinking about a future for them. .He had to concentrate on catching the Exterminator. He began to get dressed. After dressing, he strapped on the Glock, 9mm, automatic that he wore in a holster at the small of his back. He wished that he had brought his toothbrush and razor, and then he chuckled, ‘That might have been a bit presumptuous’, he thought`. He pulled some breath mints from his jacket pocket and tossed a couple into his mouth, and headed to the kitchen and the scent of bacon frying. In the sunny kitchen, Molly had prepared plates full of scrambled eggs and bacon with buttered toast, and hot coffee. “Merry Christmas Bill,” Molly said cheerfully. She looked beautiful with her hair pulled back into a pony tail and wearing a white, terrycloth robe. Molly was one of those women who didn’t need makeup. Her complexion was flawless and her green eyes beautiful, without much help from the cosmetic counter. Bill rubbed his scruffy chin and said, “How can you look so fabulous the first thing in the morning?” “Mmmmmm, flattery will get you anywhere you want to go,” she said as she embraced the detective and kissed him. When he embraced her, he realized that the robe was apparently all she was wearing and he felt a sir of arousal Molly apparently felt the detective’s stir as well, because she said, “Down boy, your breakfast will get cold.” They both laughed and sat down to a breakfast fit for farmhands heading to the field for a long days work. After finishing the “harvest breakfast” the two moved into the study to begin working on the case. Molly poured through the files and read every word that the Tulsa police had compiled on “The Exterminator.”
Scene 11 The gray, Ford pulled up to the curb at 21st and Yale. The man saw the red head standing by a USA Today newspaper rack. She smiled at him and started walking toward the parked car. The man saw on the side of her neck, a green snake head tattoo, with fangs bared, the rest of the snake’s body apparently hidden under the redhead’s clothing. He rolled down the passenger’s window, “Merry Christmas lover,” the girl said,” I’m Misty, you looking for love in all the wrong places?” The man winced at the hooker’s use of the Eagles lyrics as her offer line. “Maybe, he replied, how much?” “Are you an officer of the law?” she asked him. “Yeah, I’m the Marshal around these parts,” he said with a laugh. ‘She was so stupid,’ he thought, ‘thinking that asking that question would keep an undercover cop from busting her’. “No darlin’, he said in a practiced Okie drawl. “I’m just lookin’ to get laid.” “Seventy-five for straight sex, anything else is negotiable.” She told him, now all business. “I don’t go for none of that kinky shit,” the man said. “Park your car. I work the hotel across the street. Tell the desk clerk you’re here for Misty, he’ll direct you.” She told him. Misty crossed the street and walked into an old two story brick hotel on the corner. The hotel’s sign read, The Tulsa Towers.” The man chuckled at the absurdity of the name given the two-story, building, and parked and locked the Ford. He walked across the street to the Tulsa Towers Hotel. Inside, an old man sat behind the registration desk. The “Exterminator,” dressed in jeans, a western shirt with pearl buttons, a pair of cowboy boots, and a black felt, Stetson cowboy hat told the toothless old man that he was here to see Misty. “Be eight bucks for the room, the old man said, and pushed the registration book towards the man. With a dramatic flair, the man signed the register;” Hoot Gibson.” The old man looked at the signature and said, “I seen some of his movies when I was just a kid, damn good cowboy,” and then laughed a phlegmy, wheezy, laugh. The “Exterminator” made a show of pulling a large roll of bills out of his jeans pocket and pealing off a twenty, giving it to the desk clerk and saying, “Keep the change old timer.” The desk clerk smiled a big toothless grin and handed the man a small bar of hotel soap and a clean wash cloth and said, ”room 215, top of the stairs on yer’ right.” The “Exterminator” climbed a set of creaky wooden stairs and looked back down at the desk clerk who was whispering to someone on the telephone. ‘That just cost you your miserable life old man,’ the Exterminator thought. At the top of the stairs, room 215’s door was closed, but the door directly across the hall from 215 was open and a very butch looking young lady, wearing a black leather jacket with chains, short black hair, cut in a flattop style and sporting perhaps a dozen piercings in her ears, cheeks, lips and nose. stood in the open doorway talking into a cell phone. The Exterminator, disguised as a redneck cowboy smiled and tipped his Stetson at the girl. The girl replied by flipping the man off and scowling at him. ‘It will be fun killing you, you demented bitch,’ the Exterminator thought. The man lightly knocked on the door of room 215. Misty opened the door and let the man in. She had shed all her clothes except a black lacey bra and a pair of thong panties. The man studied the tattoo; it really was a nice piece of artwork. A very detailed coiled green snake whose serpentine body ran from somewhere inside the hooker’s panties, up between her smallish breasts and appeared ready to strike from its perch on the side of the girl’s neck. He also studied the girl’s face. She was young, no more than nineteen or twenty, but her eyes were set deeply in her skull and dark circles were evident under them, even with the heavy makeup she wore. Her died red hair looked brittle and dry, the signs that the HIV virus was slowly robbing her of life. “Damn fancy tattoo,” the man drawled. “Thanks Cowboy. Now what kind of date are you in the mood for?” she asked. “Like I said before ma’am, I ain’t into any of that kinky shit. How about just a good old country fuckin?” Misty laughed and reached behind her and unhooked the lacy bra, revealing two perky but small breasts with small, almost colorless nipples. As she slid down her panties, the man made a quick, visual sweep of the room looking for weapons or anything that should concern him. On the edge of the headboard of the bed, the man noticed a button. A wire ran from the button to somewhere inside the wall. This had to be how Misty signaled her girlfriend in case of trouble or when it was a good time to rob a john. Misty lay down on the bed on her back. Now nude, the man saw from whence the green tattoo snake had come. When aided by her shaved vagina, the snake’s home could be plainly seen. “Very clever, the man chuckled. “What are you waiting for Cowboy?” Misty asked. “I’m comin’ little lady,” the Cowboy said, but instead of unbuckling the big silver rodeo buckle that was part of his wardrobe, the man pulled the silenced automatic out of his waistband and put two bullets into the forehead of the shocked prostitute. She died instantly. “You’ll never infect anyone else,” the Exterminator said aloud. The man listened for anyone coming down the hallway, but he heard nothing. He walked across the room to the bed and pushed the button attached to the headboard. He raised the automatic and waited for Misty’s girlfriend to arrive. The wait was brief, just seconds later, the door flew open and Misty’s lesbian lover burst into the room, brandishing a snub nose, detective’s .38. The man fired two muffled shots that dropped the girl in her tracks. She fell to the floor. He looked at the girl’s crumpled body; “what a waste you have made of your short life,” he said. The man stepped over the girl’s body and out into the hallway. The narrow hallway was deserted. He crept down the stairs, and halfway down, he saw the desk clerk watching David Letterman on an old black and white television. Quietly, he went down the rest of the stairs. He now stood at the front desk. Startled, the old man stuttered, “M-Mr. Gibson,” obviously surprised to see him, “what can I do….” The man raised the automatic and put two .22 bullets into the old man’s brain. The old man fell back into his chair. On the television screen, Letterman continued his interview with Madonna, his guest for the evening. “Life goes on,” the man muttered, he took a plastic bag out of his shirt pocket. Careful not to touch the envelope, he shook it loose from the plastic bag. It landed on the registration desk. The envelope was addressed to Captain Bill Chapel. He stuck the automatic back into his waistband, walked calmly out onto the dark and deserted street, unlocked the Ford and drove away into the chilly night.
Scene 12 Molly finished reading everything in the Tulsa PD’s “Exterminator” file, and had made several pages of notes on a yellow legal pad. She was going over those when Bill’s cell phone chirped. He answered it immediately, “Chapel,” he said. After listening for a few seconds, he told the caller, “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” He looked at Molly and said, “Our boy’s been at it again. There are three bodies in the old downtown area, at 21st and Yale, at an old hotel. I have to go.” Molly jumped up and said, “How do you know it was him?” “Twenty two caliber, two shots to each forehead, and - - - he’s left me another letter,” Chapel answered. “I’m going with you.” Molly said, “I need to see the scene to get a complete feel for this guy,” Chapel didn’t argue, he just grabbed Molly’s coat and helped her on with it. Fifteen minutes later, Chapel pulled up in front of the Tulsa Towers Hotel. Yellow crime tape had already been put out and uniformed officers were keeping a small crowd that had gathered outside the hotel from getting too close. The ever-present news vans were lined up against the curb. Chapel and Molly walked into the old building. The first body was just inside the door, behind the registration desk. Detective Nelson filled the two in, ”Noah Parker, male Caucasian, aged 88, the night clerk at the hotel, he was found slumped over in this desk chair, shot at close range with a .22 caliber weapon. Two shots to the head, apparently died instantly. The time of death approximated by the Coroner was 11 PM last night. Register signed ‘Hoot Gibson’ apparently by the shooter. The cash till does not look like it’s been touched. Here’s the letter addressed to you Bill. Chapel told the detective to get it to him as soon as CSI was finished with it. “There are two more bodies upstairs.” A CSI team was busy dusting for prints and collecting what little evidence there was at the registration desk. Molly and Chapel climbed the creaky stairs to the second floor. Just inside the door of room 215 a young girl’s body lay in a congealed pool of blood. Another detective began a rundown for Chapel and Molly. “Holly McIntire, aged 22, female, Caucasian, no known occupation. Her parents address in Broken Arrow is all that is on the record. The parents have been notified, they didn’t act too terribly broken up, say they haven’t seen her or heard from her in over three years. No criminal record”. Chapel and Molly refocused their attention to the nude girl on the bed. The sheets were soaked in blood, also congealed. The girl was on her back and the most exotic tattoo either of them had ever seen ran from her neck down to her genitilia -- a huge green snake, coiled and ready to strike. “This young lady is Sarah Simonson, a.k.a. Misty Marlow, aged 19, local Tulsa address, booked for solicitation last July, made bail, skipped her trial date, no known next of kin. M.E. says the time of death for both, roughly 11 PM last night. We have six bullet holes, and six shell casings. Ballistics the same as the others, hollow points, rim fire. Now you know all that we do” the detective told the pair. “Check with local tattoo artists, see who did this work”, Chapel pointed to the girl’s tattoo, ”see what you can find out.” The CSI team came into the room to begin the search for prints and evidence. As they were leaving the building Chapel and Molly were discussing “The Exterminator.” “Bill, he’s not as demented as some, he’s not posing the bodies or writing in blood or anything ghoulish. I’m guessing he has a Hitler complex.” Molly said. “What the hell is that?” Bill queried. “Well, I think he’s trying to rid the world of who he thinks are undesirables or bad people. This is oversimplifying a rather complicated complex, but he thinks he’s doing a good thing, that he’s right and society is wrong.” Molly explained. Now the two were out on the sidewalk in front of the hotel., Chapel said, “Okay, I’ll buy that. A hooker, and most likely, her pimp, not your best of citizens I grant you, but what about the old man?” Detective Chapel asked. “Maybe the Exterminator knows something we don’t about him,” Molly reasoned. “Maybe,” Chapel said as he opened Molly’s door. The man, who had been among the small group of onlookers on the sidewalk in front of the Tulsa Towers, had listened with keen interest to as much of the couple’s conversation as he was able to overhear. “You’re right beautiful lady, the old man was an unexpected bonus. But he was dirty, oh yes, he was,” the Exterminator muttered to himself. The man watched as Detective Chapel and his beautiful companion drove away. Chapel drove Molly home and walked her to her door. “So Bill, where do we go from here?” Molly asked. Bill realized that she was talking about their new relationship. “I’d like us to be together, Molly, you know, a couple. I want to see you again and again,” Chapel told her. “Does that work for you?” he asked her. “For now Bill Chapel, that’s okay for now,” she said, then kissed him sweetly and went inside, closing the door behind her. “Women!” Chapel said aloud, “has anyone ever figured them out?” Back at headquarters, Chapel made a detailed written report to Chief Greer that contained everything that Dr. Waska had surmised, and the information they had on the latest triple homicide and emailed it to his office. The crime lab had sent him the letter the Exterminator left at the scene, encased in plastic. Chapel read it:
Captain Chapel, I have carried out the execution of a deadly team of urban terrorists. As I am sure the Medical Examiner will confirm, the young prostitute I exterminated had the AIDS virus. She has been knowingly and deliberately infecting her customers with this deadly virus for over a year. After infecting them, she and her pimp (and lover) robbed the patrons. I have ridded the world forever of this deadly team. No need to thank me. The Exterminator.
Scene 13 Chief Greer had his secretary open up a telephone conference line with the Tulsa World city editor and the three local television network affiliates news rooms. When everyone was on the line, Chief Greer said, “ladies and gentlemen of the media; let me tell you what my detectives and I have learned about “The Exterminator.” From there, Chief Greer went on to tell the media people everything that the Police knew and even theorized about the killer. He quoted Dr.Waska and emphasizing her theory of the killer having a “Hitler complex”. He made it sound as though they were just hours from making an arrest. He gave all the details concerning the most recent triple murder, and the letter left at the scene by the Exterminator. He used so many “I’s” in his statement that it appeared that he had done the majority of the detective work. Greer felt that telling the media everything would assure him positive press coverage in his coming campaign for governor. If, in fact, the Exterminator was not apprehended as quickly as he had hinted at, he knew he could just blame the delay on a Chapel blunder of some sort. The evening news broke the stories on television at the 6:00 broadcast, and the Tulsa World prepared a huge, front page spread for the morning edition.
Scene 14 That stupid Son-of- a- bitch!” Chapel said out loud as he watched the evening news on channel 6 alone in his apartment, “he used Molly’s name and gave every detail from the letter and the crime scene. Now we won’t be able to tell the Exterminator’s crime scenes from the ‘Exterminator copycats.’ I hope that jackass gets elected governor just so he’ll be the hell out of the department.” Chapel felt a bit foolish going on like that when he was home alone, but for God’s sake, the chief is a frigging idiot Chapel picked up the phone and punched in Molly’s number. Molly picked up on the first ring. “Hello.” She said. “Molly, have you seen the news?” Chapel asked. “Yes, I’ve been watching Bill. I stand behind my theories 100% but I wish he hadn’t named me. I’m a little worried that our nutcase might be a bit pissed off about what I had to say about him. Molly told him. “I’m more than a little worried about it. Our boy has not exactly been shy about violence up to this point,” Chapel said. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Are your doors and windows locked?” “Yes Bill,” Molly told him, “and Bill, bring a change of clothes and your shaving kit. Once I get you into my house, there’s no leaving until morning, understand?” “I understand, and totally agree,” Bill said, “see you in about thirty minutes” and hung up the phone. Fifteen minutes later, the Exterminator stood on Dr. Molly Waska’s front porch. He took a small strip of electrician’s tape and stuck it over the peephole in the door and then rang the bell. He took the automatic pistol out of his pocket and chambered a round. Molly ran to the door expecting Bill. She threw off the deadbolt and began to unlock the door, then hesitated and looked out the peephole, just to be safe. When she could see nothing through the peep hole, she leaned against the door and called out, “Bill?” There was no answer. She backed away from the door and picked up the phone to call Bill Chapel’s cell phone. Chapel’s cell phone chirped as he was driving to Molly’s home. “Chapel”, he answered. “Bill, it’s Molly,” she whispered into the phone. “What is it Molly?” he said excitedly. “Someone’s at my door and they have covered up the peek hole so I can’t see out. They won’t answer when I ask who it is,” she told him. “Stay away from the door,” he told her, “I’m five minutes away, I’ll be there in three,” he said, as he flipped the switch that made the red lights, normally concealed under his car’s grill, appear and flash, and floored the accelerator. As he maneuvered around traffic, he called for backup to go to Molly’s address on his police radio. Chapel’s black Ford slid around the corner and screeched to a stop in front of Molly’s house. He jumped from the car, with his 9 mm Glock automatic in his hand. He still had a very frightened Molly on his cell phone. “I’m here baby, no one on the front porch. I’m going to check around the back”, he told her, “Bill, be careful”, she said, still whispering. The shaded walkway on the side of the house still had some unmelted snow on it and Chapel saw several footprints in the melting snow. The prints led towards the backyard. Chapel cautiously followed the prints. The person must have stopped at a side window and looked in. Chapel looked inside and could see Molly sitting on the floor, next to the phone across the room. There was a piece of paper taped to the window with electricians’ tape. Chapel left it there undisturbed for now and followed the prints until they disappeared in the grass in the back yard. The perpetrator had apparently jumped the back fence and had gone to the next block. Chapel took a portable radio from his pocket and directed the black and whites that were pulling up in front of the house to the next block and warned them that he was probably armed and extremely dangerous. Then he went back to the window and got the scrap of paper that had been taped there. Chapel clinched his teeth in rage as he looked at the paper. It was a crudely drawn stick figure woman with two bullet holes in it’s head and the words “LIAR” printed below it. He went to the front door and told Molly on the phone, “you can let me in darling, he’s gone now.” Molly opened the door and fell, sobbing into Bill’s arms.
Scene 14 (continued) The Exterminator hopped the fence from Molly’s backyard into the yard on the next block, and sprinted to where he had parked the gray Ford. He could hear approaching sirens, far too close for comfort. He started the Ford and stomped on the accelerator. He turned off of the quiet, residential street just seconds before the squad cars, with tires squealing and sirens blaring, turned onto it. He drove the next block at 75 miles per hour and then disappeared into heavy traffic, a mile away on Harvard Avenue. That had been far too close. The man was not used to having to run. He told himself that he had acted far too hastily, Chapel had anticipated his attack. He knew that he would not make that mistake again. He had left a warning for the woman who was hampering his “efforts.” If she was as smart as he thought she was, she would stop telling the newspapers and television stations these ridiculous lies about him. If she was not, he would be back, when he was least expected, and kill her. Meanwhile, he had More important business to attend to tonight and he needed some rest before he visited the den of depravity on the river, later tonight. ‘That had been far too close,’ the man thought. He was not used to having to run from the authorities. It was not dignified, and he simply should not have to do it. He told himself that he had acted far too hastily today. Chapel had anticipated his attack. He knew that he would never make that mistake again. He had left a warning for the woman who was hampering his “efforts.” If she was as smart as he thought she was, she would stop telling the newspapers and television stations these ridiculous lies about him. If she was not, he would be back, when he was least expected, and kill her. Meanwhile, he had far more important business to attend to. He had to plan his most spectacular extermination to date, one that would rid the world of hundreds of depraved, sexual deviates, all in one hit. The man laughed out loud as he envisioned hundreds of sick, fornicators screaming for their lives, trapped in a hellish firestorm. Then he just smiled and concentrated on maneuvering through Tulsa’s evening traffic as he drove towards his home.
Scene 15 The next morning, Chapel, even though he had taken the entire night to cool down, stormed angrily into the Chief’s office, without the customary single knock, and began admonishing Chief Greer for putting Molly at risk and for seriously compromising the entire case. “ Damn you Greer, the press should not have half of the information you have given them. A fricking rookie officer would have known better than that!” An angry, red faced Chapel yelled at the Chief of Police. “Perhaps, Captain Chapel, if you would spend more time on the case, and less time nailing your girlfriend, we’d have this lunatic behind bars by now. Chief Greer said flatly. Two officers, whom Greer’s secretary had hailed when Chapel barged into the chief’s office, rushed in just as Chapel grabbed the chief by the lapels and jerked him up out of his chair. “You son of a bitch, you nearly got Molly killed because of your big mouth!” Chapel yelled. The two officers grabbed Chapel and wrestled him away from the chief just when it looked like he was going to shove the top man in the department out of his twelfth floor office window. “Get that crazy bastard out of here. You’re off the case Chapel! Nelson will take over. You’re suspended without pay for a month! Now get him out of here!” The two uniformed officers shoved Chapel out into the hallway and one of them kicked the door closed to the chief’s office door. Chapel had calmed down considerably, and he told the two officers, that he was alright now, and they let him go. Chapel went down the elevator to the ground floor and straight to his car and drove to Molly’s office.
Scene 16 In the morning edition of the Tulsa World, the Exterminator was again the lead story. The man read about his failed attempt on the life of Dr. Molly Waska. The piece angered him, but it was the statements made by Chief of Police Greer that really got his attention. “Major mistakes were made by the detective formerly in charge of the case, Captain Bill Chapel that ultimately allowed “the Exterminator” to escape our dragnet. It is because of these blunders that Captain Chapel has been taken off the case and suspended.” “That pompous bastard is lying,” the man said aloud “There was no dragnet. It was mere luck that the police even got close! That arrogant bastard thinks that this will get him elected Governor. I don’t think I’ll allow that to happen. That inept bastard can’t hold such an important office. I want Bill Chapel back on the case! I’m not letting him off that easy. I have plans for him and his lying girlfriend. The Imbecile Chief just may have to encounter a tragic accident.” Then the man saw a small ad in the entertainment section that made him change his focus. “The Isle of Lesbos” on the River announces its annual New Years Eve Party, 9PM to 2AM on December 31st. Advance tickets, $100 per couple.” The man cut out the ad for the New Years Eve Bash for the alternative lifestyle crowd and taped it to his basement wall. “Come and enjoy a little pre-hell warm-up,” the man said, and then laughed until tears ran down his cheeks.
Scene 17 Chief Greer unlocked his black Ford, slid behind the wheel and was putting his keys into the ignition when he felt something like a bee sting on the side of his neck. He put his hand on the side of his neck and cursed. A trickle of blood ran down the palm of the Chief’s hand. He didn’t realize it, but his jugular vein had been pierced. The man sat back in the rear seat of the chief’s car with the syringe still in his hand. He watched as the chief’s body, in a matter of seconds, first went rigid, then violently convulsed and finally, went totally limp and toppled over in the seat. The man placed the syringe in a fast food sack, reached over the seat and felt for a pulse with his surgically gloved hand. Finding none, he dropped the envelope he had sealed in a plastic bag onto the chief’s body, opened the back door of the car and calmly walked out of the empty parking garage. He tossed the fast food sack, containing the syringe and needle and his plastic gloves into a trash receptacle on his way out. Moments later he watched as a Tulsa sanitation worker emptied the trash receptacle into a large white garbage truck, and then the man walked away smiling.
As you may (or may not notice) Bill's name has inexplicably changed from Bill to Nick in mid story. This is because my combination coach, editor and agent has finally convinced me that Nick Chapel has more of a detective ring to it than does "Bill." "It's a winner," she tells me like "like Alex Cross, or Bulldog Drummond," or Otis Crawford (a real cop I know). So reluctantly, I have changed it. However; consider it just a pseudoname for our beloved crimefighter, as our Bill is still the inspiration for the character, as are Molly, Donna and Rick. Hope she doesn't try to change Molly from Waska to Wilson (or something else more W.A.S.P.ish.) One never knows. WW
Scene 18 "Molly, this is perfect. Chief Greer doesn't realize that taking me off of the case was the best thing he could have ever done--for us. That is . . . if you'll marry an old flatfoot." Nick's hesitation was uncharacteristic--a mark of his uncertainty that melted Molly. She reached for him, and he took her into his arms. After a moment, when she could speak again, she looked up into his face. "Of course I'll marry you, Nick. If . . . ." Her green eyes had turned teasing, but Nick was still unsure. "If?" he gritted. "If you'll forget about this case and take me south for a sand and sun honeymoon." Nick bent to give her a slow, hot kiss--his promise to her that he would deliver on everything she'd asked for--and more. "Deal."
Scene 19 A parking garage security guard was making his rounds inside the garage when he noticed that the Chief’s black, Crown Victoria was still in the garage at 1:00 AM. This was highly unusual, as he usually watched the chief leave, usually no later than about 5 or 6 every evening, always shortly after his shift began. He decided to investigate. Moments later, the garage security guard was frantically calling 9-1-1. “Emergency, 9-1-1, what is your emergency?” “It’s Chief of Police Greer,” the guard said, “He’s slumped over in his car. I think he’s dead…”
Scene 20 Nick was sleeping, but a disturbing dream he was having about him and his ex wife Donna was causing Nick to endlessly toss and turn. In the dream, he and Donna were bitterly arguing over his long hours at the office, the dangers of his job, the loneliness she felt and their son Rick, growing up without his ever being there. The argument was not unlike hundreds that the couple had actually had, but the truly strange thing about the dream was that Molly was sitting there in the room with the yelling couple listening to their argument. It seemed, in the dream, that with every point Donna made, Molly paid particular attention to his responses. Mercifully, the chiming of Nick’s cell phone shattered the disturbing dream. “Chapel,” Nick said drowsily as he picked up the phone. “What the hell? When did it happen? Don’t open it! I’ll be right there.” He jumped up and began pulling on his trousers. Molly, who had been sleeping peacefully next to him, was now wide awake. “What is it darling?” Molly asked. “Chief Greer,” he said. “Apparently the Exterminator has murdered him. He left another letter by the body.” I’m going with you Nick,” Molly said, “I’m still officially on this case.”
Scene 20 (continued) Twenty minutes later Nick and Molly arrived at the Tulsa PD parking garage. Police had the second floor, where the Chief’s car had been parked, blocked off and yellow crime scene tape surrounded the Chief’s car. Nick and Molly crossed the tape and looked inside the Chief’s car. Chief Greer’s sightless eyes stared up at them. There was an ugly purple bruise on the right side of the Chief’s neck. “He must have been waiting for the Chief in the backseat,” Nick said, “but what made that mark on his neck?” “Looks like an injection sight,” Molly said. Nick saw the letter, sealed in a plastic bag and addressed to him, lying on Chief Greer’s chest. “Get the letter to me as soon as forensics is finished with it, will you?” he asked one of the detectives. “Right Chief,” the detective answered. Nick parked his car on the third floor of the parking garage and he and Molly walked to his office. “Why did the Exterminator change his type of weaponry?” Nick asked. “I’ve been wondering about that,” Molly said,”maybe he’ll tell us in his letter.” On Nick’s voicemail was a message from Detective Bob Nelson: “Nick, uniforms collared a burglar yesterday who had in his possession most of the articles stolen from the late Reverend Homer Winslow’s home a few months ago. The boys sweated him pretty good and told him this was good for a long stretch in Big Mac (jargon for McAlister State Prison) and he freaked out. He says he has information on the Exterminator and he wants some sort of deal. If you think it amounts to anything, the dude is in lockup, his name is Willy Foster?” Nick jumped up from his desk and said, “Cumon’ Molly, we may just have our first real lead in this case!” Molly thought for a fleeting instant about the promised wedding and sea and sand honeymoon that seemed so far from Nick’s mind now, but she shook off that thought and followed Nick to the lockup area.
Scene 21 The man walked up to the Benson Propane Company office and tried the door. It was locked. A hand lettered sign on the door said; “closed at noon for the holidays, have a Happy New Year.” The man walked behind the office and scaled the eight foot chain link fence into the truck yard of the company. A quick inspection of the trucks told the man what he needed to know. The tanker truck on the east end of the lot was ¾ full of highly volatile propane. The man jumped into the truck and quickly hotwired the ignition then he drove the big truck into the locked gate, breaking the chain and knocking open the big gate. In seconds the man had driven the truck away. The man drove the truck to an old warehouse he had rented under a fake name and parked the propane truck inside the dusty building. The man locked the big wooden doors with a padlock and calmly walked away. Two blocks away, at the Harris Construction Company, that had also closed early for New Years. The man was able to hotwire an ancient Chevy truck that sat in the company’s parking lot. There was an empty 55 gallon drum behind the construction office and the man stopped long enough to throw the can into the back of the pickup before driving away. Three blocks away, the man stopped at a Shell station and filled the 55 gallon drum with unleaded gasoline. After filling the drum, he drove to the Isle of Lesbos Club on the River and parked the ancient truck in the parking lot 15 yards or so due east of the west door to the club. The man looked at the empty club. Long and narrow barracks type building, two story with only two doors, one on the east and one on the west. Burglar bars covered all the windows. “What a fricking fire trap!” the man exclaimed, and then he laughed until his eyes watered.
Scene 22 Nick and Molly stood outside the bars of Willy Foster’s cell. A wiry little man wearing a Titleist golf cap stood up when he saw the couple outside his cell. “Willy Foster?” Nick asked. “Yeah, that’s me. You a lawyer or somethin’?” Foster asked. “No Willy, I’m a detective, name’s Nick Chapel, this is Dr. Waska. We understand you have information about the Exterminator.” Foster hesitated, looked the two up and down and then said, “well now, that depends on what you can do for me. I don’t want to go back to Big Mac,” “Listen Willy, if what you give us is good and it helps us put The Exterminator away, I’ll go to bat for you with the D.A. He owes me a favor or two”. Chapel told him, “now lets hear what you have”. “Guy name of Connors, works the soup kitchen at Saint Andrews couple a days a week. He pays good money for information.” Willy Foster told them. “What kind of information?” Molly asked. “Info about muggers, small time hoods, like that. He pays more for info if the hoods are faggots, he really hates faggots!” “What does he do with the information Willy?” Nick asked. “Never asked him, but I do know that usually, the guy’s names I give him end up takin’ a dirt nap. You know what I mean?” “Yes, we know,” said Molly. “What was the last bit of information you sold him Willy?” Nick asked. “Willy rubbed his stubble covered chin and said; “let’s see, that would have been the stuff about that hooker and her pimp girlfriend, the hooker with the snake tattoo.” Nick and Molly looked at each other. “Anything else Willy?” Nick asked. “Yeah, sold him some sort of fancy diary we boosted from that TV preacher’s wall safe. Connors loved that little item, gave me a ‘C’ note for it”. “What does this Connors fellow look like Willy?” “Tall, gray hair I think, or dirty blonde. Mid 50s I’d say, good shape, trim, athletic guy”. “Okay, thanks Willy, we have to check this out then we’ll get back to you,” Nick told him. “Remember”, Willy yelled to the couple as they turned to leave, “no Big Mac. Maybe Lexington or El Reno, minimum security, okay, but no big Mac!” “Okay Willy, I’ll do what I can,” Nick told him. Twenty minutes later Nick and Molly were sitting at the desk of Father Phillip Murphy at Saint Francis’. “We need to know about a volunteer in your soup kitchen father, a man named Connors. Volunteers a couple of days a week at lunch. ”Nick said. “Of course, Conrad Connors, fine fellow, one of our most faithful volunteers. Surely the police aren’t after Conrad Connors,” the friar asked. “No we just need to ask him a few questions”, Molly told him, “do you have his address?” “Certainly, “the priest thumbed through a rolodex and pulled out a card. “Here it is right here, 4113 Flamingo Lane, Tulsa.” “Thank you father. We won’t take any more of your time. You’ve been very helpful.” Nick said as he and Molly got up to leave. Nick and Molly drove across town to the Flamingo Lane address. “This is too easy,” Nick said, ”very unlike the Exterminator. He’s too smart to leave his address around town.” Nicks words proved to be prophetic as they pulled up to a vacant lot that would have been 4113. “Back to square one .” Molly said.
Scene 22 (continued) “Okay, let’s go over what we do know now,” Nick said as they were driving back to Nick’s office. Willy Foster and others, sell information on criminals to this ‘Connors’ guy at the soup kitchen. Connors pays more for information on homosexual criminals. How did Willy say it? He really hates faggots,” He tapped the brakes as a black Volvo pulled out in front of him. Molly smiled. Usually, that kind of driving behavior would earn the offender at least a hand gesture, if not a “whoop” from his siren, he loved to watch the offender become a virtual driving boy/girl scout after hearing the siren “whoop.” But Nick was just too engrossed in putting the puzzle pieces together to make the effort. “And Willy said most of the people he sells information on usually end up dead,” Molly added. “Right”, Nick murmured. Willy admitted that he and an accomplice burglarized Reverend Winslow’s house, popped the wall safe and got a ‘diary’ which they sold to Connors or whatever his name is. That explains how the Exterminator knew that Winslow had murdered all those young boys and where they were buried,” They stopped at a traffic light a block from Nick’s office. Just three blocks south of where the very first murder had taken place—just a month ago, when it had all started. Christ, Nick thought. It seemed like it had been a year ago, the way this case had taken over his life, sucked all of his time… Molly’s voice brought him back to the present. “Then Willy sells the info on ‘Misty’, the tattooed lady to Connors and next, she and two others are killed at the hotel,” Nick glanced at Molly as the light changed, “This is damn sure our guy Molly, but where is he? Who is he? How do we find him?” It was silent in the car for just a moment while they both pondered their thoughts. “What do you think his motive was for killing the chief?” Molly asked. Nick shook his head, he’d been over that one time and time again in his own mind. “I don’t know Molly.” Maybe he’s trying to pin that one on me,” Nick said, “I’d be the most likely suspect.” “Maybe we can just wait until he shows up at the soup kitchen,” Molly said, changing the subject.. “Maybe, Nick agreed, doubt tingeing his voice, ”but I doubt he’ll be back there again. He probably knows through his street contacts that Willy’s been busted and he’ll assume that Willy talked. Our guy’s probably served his last bowl of soup. But I’ll put a man on it just in case. Let’s go find out what he put in his latest letter.”
Scene 23 The man sat behind the wheel of the ancient Chevy pickup, watching as the New Years Eve revelers arrived for the festivities at the ‘Isle of Lesbos.’ Freddy Mercury and Queen blared from huge speakers inside the old building. “How appropriate,” said the man. Everyone was dressed in costume, and many of the costumes were very flamboyant. There were Knights and Ladies, in striking colors. Men and women dressed in 30s and 40s costumes, and some of the men were dressed as female divas. He saw Cher’, Barbara Streisand, Aretha Franklin and even a Dolly Parton look alike. Lots and lots of feather boas and big hair. Limos were arriving, their costumed occupants filing inside the club. “Sodomites!” the man cursed under his breath, “enjoy the next couple of hours fornicators, for soon, ye’ shall all be burning in hell!”
Scene 24 Nick and Molly dropped by the crime lab and picked up the copy of the Exterminator’s letter found next to Chief Greer’s body. The technicians had made a copy and sealed it in plastic for Captain Chapel. They took it to his office to read. Nick opened the manila envelope and began to read it aloud:
Dear Detective Chapel, You may be wondering why I decided to end the worthless life of Dear Departed Chief Greer. It was his blinding ambition! The arrogant bastard could not even catch his own breath, yet he lied to everyone, you, me, the press and the media, even the good Doctor. I simply could not let a buffoon like that even have a chance of winning a major political campaign. His stupidity was just too boring for me. He would have never even come close to catching me. No adventure in that! You, however, Detective Chapel, offer me at least a small challenge, and thereby keep my tasks, for now, amusing. I think you will like my next Extermination. At the stroke of the New Year, hundreds of the worst vermin that could be vomited up from the depths of hell will die like the rats that they are. Try and stop me! Happy New Year The Exterminator
“The Son-of-a-Bitch!: Chapel said. “He’s taunting us, giving us clues. He’s gotten arrogant Molly.” “Yes, and careless I think Nick. He’s giving us time to come after him. It’s the first time he’s done that. It’s become a cat and mouse game for him.” “Cumon’ Molly let’s get input from the other detectives, we only have about four hours!”
Scene 25 A group of six detectives, whose misfortunate it was to be on duty on New Year’s Eve, met Detective Chief Chapel and Dr. Waska in the “Exterminator Room.” Nick told the detectives about what the letter said and recapped everything they knew so far. “Gentlemen and lady,” Nick nodded toward, detective Charlie (short for Charlene) Martin, the department’s newest, and only female detective, and then continued, “The bastard has made this a fricking cat and mouse game. He’s given us clues, daring us to try to catch him. He has openly admitted to brutally murdering our chief of police. This has become personal, the Exterminator, has forced it upon us. I want to catch this bastard so badly my head aches constantly. He has given us a chance and by God, we’re taking it! We don’t have much time. We have to stop this asshole before he takes any more lives. Now think, what event is he hinting at? Of all the New Years Eve events taking place in and around Tulsa, what could fit this bill?” Detective Charlie Martin knew immediately, but by telling her boss and co-workers, it would solidify the thought in a lot of her fellow officer’s heads that her sexual preferences may be somewhat different than the norm. She battled with her subconscious mind for a few moments before she raised her hand. “Chief”, the young detective’s voice was cracking, “There is a New Year’s Eve Costume Ball tonight, at the Isle of Lesbos, on the river. Virtually all of Tulsa’s young, homosexual community will be there. Next to Halloween, it’s the biggest night of the year for gays and lesbians”. “Nearly, but not all, of Tulsa’s young homosexual community, right Detective Martin?” Detective Lieutenant Ed Wilson added, looking for laughs from his fellow detectives, at Charlie’s expense; but none came. “It was advertised in all the papers asshole!” Detective Martin added. “All right you two!” Nick snapped, which, for the moment, quieted the room. “It certainly fits the bill. I want a large police presence at this sight starting right now, visible, uniforms in marked cars. Make it happen, and fast! I’ll notify Chief Walker at the Fire Department, and ask for assistance. Now let’s move our asses! Moments later, Nick was on the telephone with Tulsa’s pompous Fire Chief. “Chief, this is Detective Chief Chapel; we have a strong tip that “the Exterminator” may be planning to firebomb the Isle of Lesbos tonight; sometime between now and midnight, while it is full of New Year’s celebrants.” “Holy Shit,” Chief Walker exclaimed, “that tinderbox, would burn like an old Christmas tree. We’ll move on it; but if this turns out to be a false alarm, we’re charging the Tulsa PD a bundle!” , the Chief warned. “Whatever; you say, I’ll take full responsibility, thank you, Chief ”. As the detectives were quickly filing out of the room, Molly caught the eye of Detective Charlie Martin and gave her an understanding smile, wordlessly acknowledging her bravery. The young detective returned her smile, and hurried to her assigned duties.
Scene 26 As the man sat in the ancient pickup watching the New Years Eve party, he began to think about his own, miserable childhood. He remembered the many, many nights that his step father had slipped into his bedroom after his mother had fallen asleep. He could still feel his step father clamping his hand painfully over his mouth to muffle his screams as he brutally raped him. Then, before his stepfather would leave the bedroom, he would whisper in the sobbing boy’s ear, “if you tell your mother, or anyone else about this, I will just have to kill your mother. Do you understand?” His step father would choke the boy until he nodded in the affirmative. Suddenly the man was shaken from his thoughts and brought back to the present as a police scanner he had lying in the trucks seat crackled to life and the dispatcher directed several units to the Isle of Lesbos’ location on the river. “Showtime,” the man said as he started the old pickup’s engine, ground the gearshift into first and crashed the truck directly into the west exit door, effectively blocking the exit. As he jumped out of the old pickup, he tipped over the barrel of gasoline in the truck’s bed and lit and tossed a flaming pack of matches into spreading pool of gasoline. The bed of the pickup exploded in orange flames. As he ran to the parked propane truck at the other end of the building, he could hear the first panicked screams of the partiers inside as they realized the building was on fire. He opened the door and jumped into the cab of the propane truck and started the engine. The big trucks engine roared to life and the man crashed the tanker truck into the east exit door, barely missing a man who was escaping from the building. With both exits now blocked, the man jumped from the cab of the propane truck and twisted a timer switch on an explosive charge magnetically attached to the truck and began running toward the trees at the north end of the parking lot. The explosive charges timer, which had been set for ten seconds, triggered the explosion of the propane as the man reached the trees and turned to watch. The entire night sky was lighted with an orange glow and the ground shook as the truck exploded. The old wooden building burst into flame and the screams of those trapped inside could be heard piercing the cold night air. As he watched the carnage, the man could see his step father’s face. He imagined his step father being inside the building. Then the man howled with laughter and headed into the woods.
Scene 27 Moments later, police and fire units rushed to the scene of the now totally involved building. Firemen started tearing down the burglar bars that covered the windows as their fellow firefighters began hosing down the fire and trying to rescue the screaming and panicked building occupants. As the bars came down, screaming people jumped from the windows, often with their clothes afire. It was total pandemonium. Nick and Molly arrived to witness the horrendous scene. Molly quickly grabbed her medical bag, identified herself as a doctor to the paramedics and began treating the worst of the injured survivors. Firefighters were carrying out injured people from the blackened club. One survivor told Molly that the people inside had panicked and had trampled many of those inside while trying to escape. “The death toll would be devastating” Molly thought Ambulances were arriving in droves now, summoned by the fire department and were transporting the worst of the injured to area hospitals. A witness was telling Nick that he had seen a man jump from the truck just seconds before it exploded and run to the trees at the north end of the parking lot. Nick directed officers to the wooded area and now nearly one hundred officers were combing the woods looking for the murdering arsonist. As Nick helped Molly treat a young lady’s burns, Nick looked at Molly and said, ”The insane bastard pulled it off Molly. I let him get away with this!” “It wasn’t your fault Nick, you did all any human being could have done.” Molly tried to reassure him. “I have to stop this madness. I have to stop him.” Nick said.
Scene 28 It was well into the new-year before the extent of the injury and loss of life could be assessed. “Ambulances have transported eighty-six people to three different hospitals in the Tulsa Metro. Sixteen of those have died, another 25 are extremely critical. Firefighters and rescue workers had recovered fifty-four bodies. They have been placed in body bags and placed side by side, here in the parking lot, pending identification. So far, we have seventy fatalities”. A soot streaked Chapel told the Mayor, City Manager and the Police Commissioner who were on the scene to witness the grim aftermath of the Exterminator’s carnage. The club had burned to its foundation and was now only a smoking pile of charred lumber. “According to an eye witness, the Exterminator apparently escaped into those woods,” Chapel told the officials as he pointed to the dense woods at the north end of the parking lot. “We combed the woods for three hours and there was no sign of him or even any indication that anyone had been there.” “The FBI will be here shortly,” the Police Commissioner said, “The Hate Crimes Unit, because of the homosexual connection. Please give them your complete cooperation Nick.” Nick nodded wearily, he had worked with the Feds many times in the past. The four men stared quietly at the olive green body bags lined up on the asphalt parking lot. “Get this bastard Nick,” the Mayor said quietly. Nick nodded and said, “If it’s the last thing I ever do in this life, I will Mayor, I swear, I will.”
Scene 29 The fiery, mass murder was big news all over the country on this new-years day. Live news telecasts from the scene of the mass murder were broadcast by news teams from as far away as New York and Los Angeles . The FBI Hate Crimes Team arrived and put its evidence experts to work on the smoldering building and the smoking remains of the two trucks used to block the exits and ignite the building. Nick and Molly worked with Agent- in-Charge Sid Harrison who, upon arrival, had asked Nick if he could be brought “up to speed” on everything we knew so far about the Exterminator. Bone weary, dirty and their faces streaked with black soot, Molly and Nick went with Agent Harrison to the FBI’s Mobile Command Center , an FBI trailer that had been set up in the parking lot of the club. In his home, the man was watching the national coverage of last night’s fire. CNN called him an “evil criminal mastermind”, he rather liked that description. MSNBC called him “a deranged lunatic”, well, he never thought they had any credibility anyway; and the CBS Evening news referred to him as a merciless killer. He thought that fit their rather conservative style. All the news services were broadcasting a police artists’ composite drawing of him. He guessed that Willy Foster had provided this little tid-bit of information. Actually the drawing was quite good. He thought that he might dye his hair. Another thing on a long list of things he had to do But for the moment, his attention was focused on a large article in the obituary section of the Tulsa World. Police Chief Harold L. Greer’s funeral service was to be held at Saint Francis’ Cathedral tomorrow morning at ten o’clock. All of the city’s dignitaries would be in attendance. This was his chance to even the score with Nick Chapel and his meddling girlfriend. He opened a long black case and took out his prized, Dakota T-76 Longbow sniper rifle. The .338 caliber, bolt action, beauty weighed in at just over 13 pounds and was 52 inches in length. The 28 inch stainless steel barrel was equipped with a muzzle break and the stock featured a healthy shoulder pad. He lovingly ran his hand over the flat black stock of the weapon. In the right conditions, with the right shooter behind it, the longbow was capable of 1400 meter shots, and even possible shots approaching one mile (1600 meters) in perfect conditions. And he was the right shooter. He closed the gun case, had a lot of work to do before ten a.m.
Scene 30 Standing in a line of mourners outside the church, Nick looked at his watch. “Quarter of ten,” he told Molly, they’ll start admitting the attendees now.” As if on cue, two alter boys dressed in white tunics pushed open the large oak doors of Saint Francis’ Cathedral, and the long line of attendees slowly began to move. The funeral of Chief of Police Harold L. Greer had attracted nearly five hundred attendees, and perhaps a thousand onlookers had lined the streets surrounding the church. Among the attendees were the Governor of the state, Brad Cook whom Greer would have opposed for reelection had he not met such an untimely death. Also in the line were the state’s two United. States Senators, Dewey Stanford, Republican and Mary Ruffin, Democrat. They were in line together, even though they were, in reality, bitter political enemies, hoping to take advantage of the photo opportunity at this solemn occasion. The press was meeting their expectations and dozens of camera flashes and made a strobe light effect on this overcast morning. All of the city of Tulsa ’s top oilmen and women were in the line as well as virtually every top executive of every major corporation that called Tulsa home. “So, tell me why the doors were locked prior to 9:45 Nick?” Molly asked. “At the request of the politicians I’d wager.” Nick told her, “so that they can be seen and photographed. This group never misses an opportunity for publicity.” “Do you think the Exterminator is somewhere in this crowd Nick? Molly asked him. “Baby, I hope not. We have over a hundred cops working the area, uniforms and detectives. All of them have the composite drawing and are scanning the crowd constantly. We have all the buildings in a three block radius secured. If he’s here, I think we’ll find him.” Nick tried to assure her. Still Molly watched the crowd of spectators nervously. Almost 6 blocks away, from a window of a vacant twelfth floor office, the Exterminator stared through the scope of his sniper rifle. The rifle sat on a tripod and the barrel was stabilized by a sandbag on the window sill. The Exterminator brought his target into his scope’s crosshairs. “There’s not four or five people in the world that could make this shot.” The man said aloud. Then the man the world now knew as the Exterminator held his breath and slowly squeezed the weapon’s trigger
Scene 31 As the crowd slowly moved into the ornate Cathedral for the service, Nick heard a thud and something pushed Molly forward to the ground. Two seconds later, the rifle shot was heard. People screamed, some hit the ground, others broke into a run. The rifle shot caused a mass panic. Nick looked down at Molly and blood was pouring from a one inch hole in the back of her black suit. “Oh My God, Molly’s been shot!” Nick yelled as he bent and covered her with his body, fearing another shot. Molly was unconscious but still breathing. Bloody air bubbles formed on her lips as she exhaled. “Somebody call an ambulance!” He screamed.
Scene 32 News of the shooting came across the police radio while Detective Lieutenant Ed Wilson was patrolling the downtown area in his black unmarked police car. At the same time, Detective Charlene “Charlie” Martin was walking a perimeter patrol and was only a half block from the Concord building when the sniper’s shot rang out. She instinctively looked up towards the sound and noticed a single window open near the top of the building and noticed movement inside. “That’s where the shot came from,” she thought she drew her glock 9mm, and counted the rows of windows in the building. Keying her handheld radio which had been buzzing with activity since Molly had been shot, she yelled into it as she sprinted towards the building, The shooter is on the twelfth floor of the Concord building. I Repeat, shooter on the twelfth floor of the Concord building.” Immediately, a dozen patrol cars and twenty or more officers on foot raced towards the mostly vacant old Concord building. Detective Lieutenant Ed Wilson was the next to arrive as he screeched to a halt in his unmarked car in front of the entrance of the old building. Detective Wilson entered the building just seconds after Charlie Martin. “You take the elevator up, I’ll take the stairs. Take no chances, Detective Martin. Don’t do anything until I get there to back you up, understood?” Wilson yelled to his rookie detective. Charlie nodded and watched him bound up the stairs as she entered the up elevator. In the elevator, Charlie’s mind was racing. She watched the floor numbers light up, one by one on the elevator panel. 3 --- 4 --- 5. She was sweating profusely. She wiped her sweaty right palm on her blouse and renewed her grip on the automatic pistol. 6 --- 7--- 8. Charlie had never even fired her glock anywhere except the firing range. Now she was going to be going up against a brutal murderer. She whispered a quick prayer. She hoped she had the “right stuff.” To pull this off. 9 --- 10 --- 11. She had only been a police officer for three years. She came out of the patrol division because of a new program the department had that was offering opportunities to women and minorities. When she got the detective’s position, there were more than a few male officers openly upset with her and the “system” when they did not get the detective’s slot. She was more than a little self conscious too, because she was a lesbian. She had not officially “come out” but neither had she made any conscious effort to hide her lifestyle. 12; the elevator stopped. “Oh my God, I’m here” she thought, and suddenly realized that she needed to pee. She tried to put that urge out of her mind as the elevator door slid open. She hesitated for just a just second or two, then took a deep breath and looked around the corner, down the hallway, leading with her automatic. The hallway was empty. Slowly she left the relative safety of the elevator car and stepped into the empty hallway. She could feel her heart beating. She felt that anyone within a hundred yards or so, could hear the bass drum beating of her racing heartbeat. There was an open door about thirty feet ahead that seemed to line up with the open window she saw from outside. She slowly moved toward it. “Dammit Wilson, where the hell are you?” she thought as she got closer and closer to the open doorway. “He told me to wait for him, but what if….?” Then she was at the open doorway. Lieutenant Wilson had still not made it to the twelfth floor. No time to think, just do it.” Her mind screamed at her as she peered around the corner of the door and then entered the room, automatic pistol first. She could see all four corners of the small office which was a relief. It was empty except for a wicked looking sniper rifle with a scope. The sniper’s rifle was mounted on a tripod at the window. There was a closet to her left and the door was shut. She thought briefly about emptying her automatic through the door, but rethought the situation and slowly moved towards it. She reviewed everything about this type of situation she had learned at the police academy and squatted down to make a lower than normal target. Pointed her automatic lower than normal with her right hand , in case the perp had learned the same tactic, and quickly threw the door open. The small closet was empty. “Oh thank God,” she said aloud as Charlie looked at empty hangers on a rod and plaster missing from inside the closet’s back wall. Then she turned and carefully made her way back to the hallway. There were no other offices between her and the stairway so she carefully approached the stairwell door. Then her radio, which she had connected to her belt, crackled to life and broke the total silence, which scared about two years off of her life as the uniform watch commander reported his position. “We have the building surrounded and our guys are making a floor by floor search from bottom to top. He won’t get by us.” Then Charlie heard two shots being fired from a floor or two below. She threw the door open and went to the stairway railing. Lt. Ed Wilson had heard the radio message from the watch commander and deduced that the Exterminator was either on the stairs ahead of him or on the twelfth floor, laying a trap for his newest, rookie detective. Then he saw the open window that led to a ledge outside. He tried to take cover around the corner of the stairway, but he was too late. The Exterminator, perched on a narrow ledge eleven stories above the street below, opened fire with his .22 automatic. One of his bullets was just high and tore into the old plaster wall, but the other struck the detective in the lower back. The Exterminator watched the detective’s pistol come out of his hand and clatter down the stairs. Dark red blood flowed freely from the small caliber wound. “Hit a kidney, I’d wager detective. But don’t worry, I’ll end your miserable life before you bleed to death,” the Exterminator said to Wilson . Then he looked into the detective’s fear filled eyes and took careful aim at the man’s forehead. Detective Lieutenant Ed Wilson knew that he was about to die. Strangely, Ed Wilson's fear seemed to melt away, he felt calm and at peace, he wondered; “will there be pain? Will everything just go black?” He thought of his mother who had died just last year. “Would he see her?” Then the anticipated shot rang out and Ed Wilson’s bladder emptied involuntarily. But there was no blackness, no sharp pain, just the numbing pain in his back. He opened his eyes and saw the Exterminator grab his side and heard him scream out in pain. The Exterminator’s pistol fell from his hand and Wilson watched in what seemed like slow motion as Detective Charlie Martin came bounding down the stairs. Now she was firing her weapon out the window. That’s when everything grayed out for Detective Lieutenant Ed Wilson.
Scene 33 At Saint Francis’ Cathedral, paramedics quickly loaded Molly into the ambulance. Nick held her hand as the two medics worked feverishly on her while the ambulance sped to the hospital, siren wailing. The medics packed the entrance wound with a sterile dressing that encouraged clotting of the blood. The exit wound was, however; a different story all together. The big shell flattened out as it shattered ribs and bone while passing through her chest. Her right lung was ripped open by the flattened slug as the bullet, that had been designed to bring down a charging elephant, exploded through her chest wall and took off most of her right breast. The medics dressed the exit wound as well as they could and started an iv and piggybacked one bag of ringer’s lactate solution and another of normal saline, to try to combat traumatic shock and counter her substantial blood loss. Her pulse was weak and thready and her blood pressure was too low for the medics to get a reading. One medic squeezed an ambu bag that covered her mouth and nose and pumped air into her one good lung. It looked very bleak, but at least Dr. Molly Waska was still alive. Nick Chapel, whose white shirt and black suit was covered with his fiancee’s blood, looked as if he had been shot as well. Nick could only wish it had been him rather than Molly that the Exterminator had marked for death. Then he did something that he had not done since he was a young boy. He prayed.
Scene 34 The Exterminator jumped from the eleventh floor ledge the 12 or so feet across to the roof of the building next to the old Concord . He landed on his feet and then bobbed and weaved as he ran across the building’s roof. Several bullets whizzed by his head. The pain in his side and the bleeding from his bullet wound was a minor distraction for the man as he searched for an escape route. He hoped that the wound was minor and he would attend to it as soon as he could, but his highest priority now was escape. The Exterminator ran across several building’s roofs, jumping from one building to another, until he had moved several blocks to the south. When he finally stopped to catch his breath and examine his wound, he was fairly sure that there had been no pursuit across the rooftops. The street, he knew, would be a different situation all together. The wound he found was through and through in his right side. He didn’t think that there was any internal organ damage, only damage to soft tissue, and possibly a broken rib. He pulled a tee shirt from a rooftop clothes line, ripping it and tearing it to make a makeshift bandage. The next thing he did was kick open the rooftop door and enter the hallway of what seemed to be a five or six story tenement building. There was trash in the dimly lit hallway, the sounds of babies crying, the ever present smell of meals cooking in many apartments, plus the smell of pine cleaner and urine that always seemed present in slum housing. Somewhere down the hall, a couple argued and yelled at each other. The man found the stairway and hurried down the four flights towards the ground floor. At the second floor landing, he almost fell over a sleeping wino lying in the hallway. He grabbed the foul smelling man, and stripped him of his long coat and crumpled hat. When the drunk man struggled, the Exterminator expertly broke the man’s neck and he crumpled to the floor. The Exterminator put on the horrible smelling coat and pulled the hat down over his white crew cut and slipped carefully into the street. There was a yellow cab standing at the curb and he walked to the driver’s window and said, to the driver, ”Hey Mac, what’s all the excitement downtown?” The driver turned to answer, and the man put a headlock on the driver and quickly broke his neck. He slid the lifeless body across the front seat, slid into the driver’s seat. Started the engine and disappeared into heavy traffic.
Scene 35 As a disheveled and bloodstained Nick Chapel waited to hear from the E.R. doctors, another ambulance backed up to the emergency entrance and Detective Lt. Ed Wilson was wheeled into the E.R. on a gurney. Nick was more than a little surprised to see Detective Charlie (Charlene) Martin holding his old friend’s hand and walking along side the gurney. The medics stopped Charlie at the door of the trauma room as they wheeled Detective Wilson in. Nick put his hand on her shoulder as she followed the gurney with her eyes into the room. “What the hell happened?” Nick asked her. “We had him cornered boss. Then he got Ed, err... Lt. Wilson. The lieutenant caught one in the kidney; he’s lost a lot of blood…..Oh my God! I’m so stupid! How is Molly? I got so caught up in Lt. Wilson that I forgot…..” Charlie stammered. “It’s okay,” Nick told her, as he paused to fight back tears, “she’s bad, very bad. Right now they’re trying to stabilize her enough to take her to surgery and try to repair the damage. The bastard shot her with a damned bazooka I think.” “I know, I saw the evil looking thing,” Charlie said. “Tell me what happened.” Nick insisted. “Let’s go sit down,” she said,” I need to collect my thoughts. So much has happened.” The two sat down on an orange vinyl sofa in the E.R. waiting room. They were the only persons in the room so Detective Martin began an oral report for her boss. “I heard the shot come from a twelfth floor window of the Concord building and called it in. Lt. Wilson and I entered the building. He took the stairs and I took the elevator. When I got to the room on twelve, nothing was there but the rifle on a tripod. Then I heard shots fired on the stairs. When I got there, Lt. Wilson was down and the Exterminator was on the window ledge pointing a pistol at him. I fired and hit the Exterminator, but that didn’t stop him. He jumped to the roof across the alley and escaped over the rooftops. Captain, It’s twelve feet or more to the other roof! I’ve never seen anyone make a jump like that! It’s like he could fly, and then; he just seemed to vanish boss!” Nick took all this in and digested it for just a moment, before he said, “He’s not Spider fricking man, he’s human, he feels pain and he bleeds like any of the rest of us. That son-of-a-bitch would just like us to think that he’s like a damned ghost!” “I hit him Captain, there was blood on the ledge, and he’s hurt.” Charlie said, “But he still got away.” She said as she began to sniff back tears. “You did fine work Detective”. Nick looked into her eyes and told her, “you saved a man’s life today, good work Charlie!” FBI Agent in charge Sid Harrison entered the waiting room. “How’s Dr. Waska, Nick?” the FBI agent asked. “Just hanging on,” Nick told the man. “I’m so very sorry,” the agent said. “Detective will you excuse Captain Chapel and I for a moment?” Charlie walked down the hallway so the two men could talk. “You know something Sid; what do you know Sid? Tell me!” Nick demanded. “Nick, this is top secret, I could be fired for even telling you, but under the circumstances, I think you have the right to know. We know who the Exterminator is Nick.” Nick said nothing but his burning look spoke for him. “He’s a spook, ex C.I.A., a genuine, C.I.A. trained assassin and sniper. He was their very best. His name is Carl Franklin. He’s worked for the company since the 60s. Did a lot of covert work in Southeast Asia.”. “You said he was their best? Nick asked. “Yeah, seems he went nuts on them sometime in the 90s. He started going out on his own, killing homosexuals. By the time C.I.A. identified him as the nutcase responsible, he had killed three gay politicians in three different states.” “Did they try to stop him?” Nick demanded. “Yes, C.I.A. always cleans up their own little problems. They’ve lost three good agents trying to liquidate Franklin over the past five years. He disappeared five years ago, then, out of the blue, he turns up here in Tulsa. We have a man inside the “company” Nick. Nobody else alive could have made the shot that brought down Dr. Waska today. They know that it’s Franklin. Now, we know it’s Franklin. Franklin has gone way too public. They don’t need and certainly don’t want the bad publicity. One of their guys, a mass murder, reeking havoc, they want him to disappear again, only this time, they want to make him disappear. We’ll need to watch out for their boys as we try to catch this bastard. I want him alive and able to stand trial.” Nick’s head began to ache. “Wait a minute,” Nick said, “you mean the FBI has to spy on the C.I.A.?” “Yes” Sid answered, “and they spy on us. Sad, but that’s what it has come to in the 21st century Nick.” “Look Sid, nobody on earth, not even the fricking C.I.A. wants Carl Franklin as badly as do I. Even if Molly does pull through, she’ll always live in fear as long as that bastard is drawing a breath. And it has become my job, hell, my obsession to make sure that he ceases that activity; one way or another”. “I know that Nick, and I don’t blame you at all, but I have to warn you. The “company” will pull out all the stops to get Franklin, and to keep him from going to trial, If they have to kill you, me, and Franklin to do it. They do not play by the rules Nick” “I understand Sid, and thanks for the information.” Nick told the agent. “Nick, we never had this conversation. I’ll say a prayer for Molly, and for God’s sake Nick, be careful.”
Scene 36 At home in his basement, the Exterminator pulled an index card out of his roll-a-dex. “Sherry Norton – 555-2365 – Tulsa”. The Exterminator punched the numbers into his cell phone. After four rings, a sleepy, feminine voice answered. “Hello.” “Sherry, it’s me Conrad.” The sleepy voice became much more wide-awake, even a little flirty. “Conrad, hello darling; long time no see. How are you? Sherry purred into the phone. “I’ve been a lot better, and I need your help.” The Exterminator said. “Grab a cab and come to my place. I need your medical expertise.” “Conrad, what happened?” Sherry gasped. “Not to worry, my beautiful little thing, just a minor wound I got while hunting. I need your help to clean it, bandage it, the T.L.C. that I know only you can administer. And Sherry, don’t mention this to anyone, alright I’m a bit embarrassed about it all. “I’ll be right there lover and not a word to anyone, you know you can count on me” Sherry told the man as she hung up the phone. Sherry went to the bathroom, checked her hair, quickly brushed her teeth and sprayed a little of her favorite scent, Shalimar, into her cleavage before she sat on the bed and punched in the yellow cab number. “Yes, please send a cab to 4133 Meadowbrook. Thank you”. Sherry had been out with Conrad Connors, the name she knew him by, perhaps a dozen times over the past year. Conrad was not what a girl would call the ‘ideal’ date, but a 56 year old, retired Emergency Room Nurse didn’t get that many offers, so she eagerly accepted whenever he called. They met when both had volunteered to feed the homeless, once a week at St. Andrews Soup Kitchen. She thought that he was a little weird, always talking about how “Sodomites were ruining this world”, and how “God would make them all burn in hell”, etc. But he definitely had one quality that Sherry absolutely loved. That being his ability to bring her to multiple orgasms every time they made love. He was the only man who had ever been able to do that for her. Sex with Conrad was absolutely the best she had ever known, and she was very, very appreciative. For all she cared, he could verbally bash gays and lesbians all day and night, and spout old Testament passages at the top of his lungs, as long as he kept up his fantastic work under the covers, she grinned at her own pun, . Sherry wondered why he had not just gone to the ER with his “minor” hunting wound, but she knew there had to be a good reason. The cab honked and broke her train of thought. Sherry jumped up, grabbed her purse and her first aid bag, locked the door and closed it behind her as she walked to the curb to meet the taxi. Around the corner from Sherry Norton’s small home, two men sat in a non descript gray Chevrolet sedan. When they saw the taxi pull up and honk, the man in the driver’s seat said, “Bingo, I’ll bet our boy has called his girlfriend. Let’s just follow Ms. Norton to Franklin’s safe house. See, I told ya’ it’d be a piece of cake.” The man in the rider’s seat didn’t seem quite as sure. “Yeah, but this guys a pro, he’s crafty. We need to be very careful.” “Yeah, sure,” the driver said.
Scene 37 The Exterminator watched from the shadows as the Yellow Cab pulled up in front of his home. Sherry paid the driver and headed up the walk to the front door. Sherry read the note on the front door. “Sherry, I will be right back. Come in and make yourself comfortable.” She opened the unlocked front door and went inside and closed the door. The man wanted to be sure that Sherry’s cab had not been followed. Less than 30 seconds after the cab had pulled away, a grey Chevrolet slowly pulled up, with its lights off, about 50 yards from the front of his house. The driver turned off the engine and the Exterminator could see two men inside, looking at his house. He knew he needed to act fast before the men had time to radio in his address. He moved swiftly through the darkness, until he was by the back right hand door of the Chevrolet. He listened as the two men talked. “Let’s go in and take him out.” The driver said. “No, we’ll do this by the book. We’ll call in and request a situation team, neat, clean and efficient.” The other man said. The man in the passengers’ seat flipped open a cell phone and began to punch in a number. Before he hit the third number, a muffled pop was heard and a small black hole appeared in the passenger’s forehead. The driver reached into his coat for his weapon, but he was far too late. Two .22 caliber slugs entered the driver’s brain, and he slumped back into the seat. The Exterminator shoved the lifeless bodies against the riders’ door and jumped into the drivers’ seat, started the sedan and drove away. The man parked the car in the dark parking lot of a closed attorney’s office about six blocks away. The man, who was wearing surgical gloves, rifled through the closest man’s coat pocket and found a leather bound, identification card. “C.I.A.,” the man murmured as he replaced the ID. The man got out of the car, checked himself for bloodstains, etc., and finding none, began jogging back toward his house. Two blocks away, he stopped at a convenience store and purchased two rolls of adhesive tape, a large bottle of rubbing alcohol, a package of cotton balls and a box of tampons. After leaving the convenience store, he continued jogging home. He noticed that the evening’s activity had made the wound in his side to start bleeding again.
Scene 38 At the Emergency Room waiting area, Nick and Charlie waited to hear something from the doctors about both Molly and Ed Wilson. Finally, a doctor dressed in surgical greens entered the waiting area. “Captain Chapel?” the doctor asked. “Yes, that’s me.” “We’ve finally have Dr. Waska stabilized, we’re ready to take her to surgery now and begin repairing the damage.” “What are her chances doc?” Nick asked. “Frankly, I’m a bit surprised that she has made it this far. However, since she has, it lets me know that she is a fighter and that’s an important factor. Don’t worry Captain, we’re doing everything humanly possible for her. She hasn’t given up and we won’t either.” Thanks Doc, any word on Ed Wilson?” “We’re taking him up to surgery as well, we need to remove his damaged kidney. His prognosis is good.” The doctor turned to go back to his patients and Charlie and Nick looked at each other and then embraced warmly.
Scene 39 The Exterminator entered his front door and found Sherry sitting in the small living room watching the news on television. Everything on the news was all about the shooting at the funeral and how the Exterminator had escaped across the rooftops. The news report kept showing the composite drawing of the Exterminator and adding that he had been wounded during his escape and that he would likely be seeking medical treatment. Anyone seeing this very dangerous man should not risk a confrontation but instead should call the FBI or the Tulsa P.D. and then gave the telephone numbers to call. Sherry looked at Conrad Connors as he came into the room with a sudden realization that he was the Exterminator. But her many years of handling life or death situations had taught her to keep her cool and not to panic. Sherry got up, went to the man and embraced him. “Oh Conrad, I’ve been so worried about you. Let me a look at that wound.” The man pulled off his shirt and Sherry took him into the bedroom and had him lay down on his left side on the bed. She took the makeshift bandage off and began to clean the wound with hydrogen peroxide. “How on earth did this happen Conrad?” she asked, anxious to see what he would tell her. “I was going over a barbed wire fence. The damned rifle fell to the ground and fired. I suppose I’m lucky it didn’t hit me in the head.” “You certainly are,” she told him. “Now you just lay still and let me do my job. It may sting a little from time to time but I don’t think you’ve damaged anything important.” Sherry thoroughly cleansed the through and through gunshot wound. The bullet had passed through the meaty flesh on the man’s side, what are commonly referred to as the “love handles” although Conrad’s powerful frame didn’t have much in the way of love handles, what there was had been pierced. She took a syringe and flushed the wound. When the wound was clear and clean, she inserted a clean tampon into the wound to help the clotting process and loosely bandaged the wound. She checked for a broken rib and there didn’t seem to be any dislocation in the ribcage. “At the worst you may have cracked a rib darling, she told him. Now you need to lie still and let that wound heal,” she said. From her kit, she took some capsules and handed them to the man here are some antibiotics, we don’t want you getting an infection now,” she told him and handed him five capsules and a glass of water. The man took them and lay back on the bed. Sherry had given the man three ampecillen capsules and two seconal sleeping pills. She knew that shortly he should be sound asleep and she would call the police and a taxi and get the hell away from here.
Scene 40 5:30 AM, the sun was just rising on the eastern horizon when Penny Dennison, paralegal assistant and Rogers and Young Attorneys at Law’s Office manager pulled into the firm’s parking lot. Penny was always early to get to the office because she loved these first couple of hours of peace and quiet to get things done before the 8:00 AM helter skelter of the workday began. She parked next to the gray Chevrolet and wondered what that strange car was doing in the lot so early. When she looked inside the Chevrolet, she screamed at the sight of the two lifeless bodies crumpled against the rider’s door of the car.
Scene 41 Nick Chapel’s cell phone chirped while he sat in the surgery waiting room. “Chapel,” he said into the phone. “Bob Nelson Nick. Sorry to bother you but we found two CIA agents this morning. They were popped at close range with a .22 in their car. Figured you’d want to know.” “You’ll have to work fast Bob, before CIA gets there. Are there any clues as to what they were doing?” Nick asked. “There’s a small notebook in the seat Boss, says, Yellow #3406 OK tag # CDS 256.” Nick thought for a moment and then said, “That’s Yellow cab, unit number and tag number. Call the Yellow Cab Company Bob, and get that cabs destination log for last night. It sounds like the CIA boys may have followed it. Call me back when you have the list.” Ten minutes later, Detective Lieutenant Bob Nelson called back. “I have the log Nick! The log shows that the cabbie worked strictly from the airport with one exception, a dispatched pickup at 325 E. Butler Avenue . The cabbie took a fare he picked up there to a residence at 2225 E. Woodward, before heading back to the airport” “We need to check out that Woodward Street address Bob. Swing by the hospital and pick me up, Molly’s in surgery and it will be hours before we know anything, and Ed Wilson’s doing fine, they’re waking him up now. I need some fresh air; we’ll take a look at the Woodward address. Bring me a polo shirt and a Tulsa PD windbreaker will you, my suit’s a bit of a mess.” “Okay Nick, I’m on my way.”
Scene 42 In the operating room, three surgeons worked over Dr. Molly Waska. So far, they had repaired the right lung, removed torn muscle tissue, and rib fragments in the chest wall and were now completing the mastectomy on her right breast that the large hollow point bullet had started. Suddenly, Molly’s blood pressure dropped sharply and her heart stopped. The shrill alarm from the heart monitor that signaled “flat line” sounded and the surgeons and their assistants went into crisis mode. “Paddles” the chief surgeon ordered. He placed the internal defibrillator paddles on the still heart. “Clear” he ordered and a jolt of electricity went directly to both sides of her stopped heart. All eyes in the room were focused on the heart monitor, which still showed flat line. “The paddles were once more placed directly on the heart. “Clear.” A second jolt went through Molly’s body. Again, all eyes were glued to the heart monitor. There was still nothing. “Increase the voltage,” the surgeon ordered. “Clear” and a third jolt was sent through Molly Waska’s body. The anesthetist looked at the clock and said, ” The heart has been stopped for five minutes Doctor.” Then there was a small blip on the monitor’s screen. Then another, and another, until the heart’s rhythm slowly returned to normal and the blood pressure rose to 120/80. There was a collective sigh of relief from the surgical team and the doctors again resumed the repair work on Molly’s chest.
Scene 43 Nick jumped into the black Ford driven by Bob Nelson in the parking lot of the hospital. Detective Nelson handed Nick a white polo shirt and blue police windbreaker and Nick pulled off his bloodstained shirt tie and jacket and pulled on the clean shirt and jacket. “Let’s go,” Nick said and Nelson pulled the Ford into traffic and they headed towards the house on Woodward Avenue. It took the men in the unmarked car no more than ten minutes to get to the house on east Woodward avenue . Nick and Bob walked to the porch and were about to ring the bell when they heard a woman scream inside the house. The detectives drew their weapons and tried the door. The door was unlocked and opened inward when Nick tried it. The detectives cautiously entered the house. As the men entered the living room, the Exterminator came out of the bedroom with Sherry Norton positioned in front of him and a gun to the redhead’s temple. “Drop your weapons please gentlemen and slide them across the floor towards me or I will kill Miss Norton and take my chances with the two of you”, he said. Detective Nelson glanced at Nick and Nick nodded at him and dropped his glock onto the hardwood floor. Nelson followed suit. “Now the ankle holsters please,” the Exterminator continued. Both detectives tried to look bewildered. “Don’t fuck with me!” the Exterminator yelled, “I’ll kill all three of you!” Both men reluctantly pulled up their pants legs revealing ankle holsters holding .38 revolvers. “Two fingers please,” the Exterminator demanded, “and slide them over here, now! The men did as they were told and slid the weapons across the floor. “Now detective,” he said, addressing Nelson, “take your handcuffs and cuff Detective Chapel securely. I will check them. If they are not tight, you will have earned a bullet in your kneecap. Understood?” Nelson nodded and took out his cuffs and manacled his boss’ hands behind his back. The Exterminator, still holding the automatic to Sherry Norton’s head, came around and checked the cuffs on Nick’s wrists. “Excellent detective, I would have hated to make a cripple out of you.” He then produced another pair of cuffs and said, “Sherry you cuff this nice gentleman if you would. Clamp them nice and tight, and no funny stuff.” Sherry Norton clamped the cuffs onto Nelson’s wrists securely. When both men’s hands were securely cuffed behind their backs, he shoved the detectives onto the sofa and pushed the redhead into a chair. He then took Nelson’s keys and started out the front door towards the black Ford parked in the driveway. Before the Exterminator got off the porch, two unmarked cars screeched to the curb. The Exterminator dove back into the house and slammed the door behind him. At the curb, four FBI agents stared in amazement at four CIA agents who were just as shocked.
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