Monsters dream, p.1
Monster's Dream, page 1
MONSTER’S DREAM
A Chilling Psychological Crime Thriller
JERSEY MURDER SERIES – BOOK 2
P. K. ABBOT
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual organizations, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 P. K. Abbot
All rights reserved.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
A Word from the Author
About the Author
Chapter 1
Tonight the boy will die. He’s the one I’ve chosen.
I haven’t chosen him by chance. I’ve spent weeks looking for him. I’ve searched for him among the rejects of society – the poor, the blacks and Latinos, and the mixed-race mongrels. No one cares if one of them disappears now and then, but that is not what attracts me to them.
It is the hope of finding a challenger. I am searching for that special one among them – the one who has learned to escape their crushing poverty. Who has learned to take what he wants. Who has learned to fight to survive. And, when the time comes, who will fight me to stay alive. He will fail, of course, because he’s only a child. But still he will challenge me. And, when the time comes, I will enjoy killing him.
I’ve watched this boy for days now. He is young, about ten years old, but he is very strong – more muscular than any of the others in his group. He trains obsessively. He has good reason to do so. Brute force, intimidation, and violence give him his advantage over the other boys.
I’ve noticed that he takes what he wants from the others, and no one dares to stop him. Yesterday I saw him fondle a young girl. She resisted him until he beat her bloody. Today she lets him do whatever he wants. There is a vacant look in her eyes now, but that doesn’t bother him. He’s already a predator, but he is not yet the monster that I am. He is perfect.
I know how it will happen. It will start when he notices me. He may wonder why I am there, until he sees the amount of cash in my hand, and then he’ll start thinking about how he can take it from me.
He’ll find a reason to talk to me. I’ll compliment him on the way he handled the young girl. He’ll like that because it’s important to him to seem powerful and masculine.
Then I’ll ask him if he wants to do business with me. He’ll think I want him to make the girl have sex with me. So, he’ll agree.
Then I’ll tell him that I want to have sex with him.
Anger will flash across his brow, but then I will smile at him. In my smile he will see me in the way that I want him to see me. Friendly. Weak. Vulnerable. I’ll see the thought register first in his eyes. Then the corner of his mouth will rise, and he’ll smile back at me. “Yeah, I’d like that,” he’ll say.
He has already assessed me. He knows he won’t be able to overwhelm an adult man, but he can outrun me. If he can get his hands on my money, he believes he can steal it from me.
I’ll tell him we need to go somewhere private. I’ll suggest my car at the far end of the parking lot. When he surveys the expansive, empty parking lot, he’ll think he can grab my cash and run away with it before I can catch him. So, he’ll agree.
At the car he’ll want to see my money before he goes inside. I’ll dangle the roll of bills in my hand, and he’ll lunge across my body to snatch it. He’ll expose himself for only a moment, but that will be enough. I’ll clamp my arm around his outstretched torso and pull him against me. With my free hand, I’ll take the cloth from my pocket and press it against his nose and mouth. The cloth soaked in chloroform.
He’ll struggle against me with all his strength, but, in a few seconds, he will loose consciousness and his body will become limp. I’ll then lift him in my arms, place him in the car’s trunk, and drive out of the parking lot.
The boy will still die tonight, but not yet. I’ll keep him sedated for a few hours – until it is time for him to meet the real me. Until it is time for him to meet the monster.
Chapter 2
Riley was forty years old when his life fell apart.
Until then, he had been the most successful vice cop in Atlantic City. He was a natural. He was fond of saying that he had the look. Whenever he sat at a bar with ten other guys, he looked like the one who’d have to pay to get laid. Hookers couldn’t resist him; they were drawn to him like moths to a flame. He had the unfair advantage.
During his career, Riley pushed his unfair advantage as hard as he could. He made thousands of arrests for prostitution. He made more arrests than any cop in any division of the Atlantic City Police Department. He held the city’s arrest record. The all-time record.
He always expected that his career would end with a celebration of his accomplishments, but he was wrong. When the time came, there was no fanfare — just a series of mundane occurrences. It started with the police department’s required annual physical and the concerned look on the physician’s face as he listened to Riley’s heart. Then came the weekend attached to a Holter monitor. And, finally, the diagnosis: cardiac arrhythmia.
The physician told Riley that cardiac arrhythmia was a life-threatening condition, but that he could manage it with an implantable defibrillator, a “shock box” in layman’s terms. Riley decided to have the surgery to implant the device. Before the anesthesia took effect, the surgeon assured him that the little device would save his life one day. But he neglected to tell him that it would kill his career.
Riley’s first day back on the job after surgery started with a chat in Human Resources. They were happy he was back, they said, but they expressed concern. Concern about the liability that his health posed to himself and to the department. From now on, he would have to restrict himself to desk duty. There was too much liability otherwise, they said. They were all smiles, but there was an undercurrent of resentment for the burden that he now placed on the department. Riley realized that his past success counted for nothing, now that his career had ended. His work was his life, and he felt like he was attending his own funeral there in Human Resources.
He wondered what had happened. It wasn’t his performance. He always did everything right. He never left anything to chance. It was his health that had put his livelihood at risk.
He hated risk. Risk was messy and unpredictable. Overnight it could ruin one’s entire life. He had seen it happen too often to other cops. And now he was watching it happen to himself. Ever since he was a little boy, he had taught himself to avoid risk. He had always played it safe. It was his guiding philosophy in life to never stick his neck out. It was in his DNA. He would never willingly take a risk. It would have to be forced upon him.
It was a year before his surgery when risk was last forced upon Riley. On a sunny June day, he had been walking along the street and turned into the alley behind the Shangri-La Casino when he saw the two men. They were arguing fifty feet in front of him. He recognized them both.
One was Sunny Bob Walker, the most celebrated man in Atlantic City. He was the owner of the Shangri-La and one of the wealthiest men in the country. He looked the part too. Tan and fit, he wore an exquisitely tailored tuxedo and a hand-tied bow tie – his trademark. He appeared confident. He was smiling even though the other man was pointing a gun at him.
The other man was Lenny Myers – a meth addict and small-time hustler. Armed robbery was a new addition to Lenny’s résumé. He waved an old, .22 caliber revolver in Mr. Walker’s face. His arm trembled under the weight of the gun, and his eyes buzzed and flitted from Walker’s face to his wrist and back again.
“Gimme the watch, man!” Lenny snarled.
“You can have all the cash in my billfold, friend, but there’s no way I’m giving you this watch.”
Lenny was in a cold sweat now as he waved the revolver toward Walker.
“I’m gonna blow your brains out and just take it.”
Lenny was too agitated and too strung out to notice Riley. Riley drew his Glock out of his shoulder holster and quietly walked up to Lenny. Then he pushed the gun’s muzzle into Lenny’s ear.
“Give it to me, Lenny.” Riley reached around Lenny and lifted the revolver from his hand.
“Shit, Riley!”
“You know the drill. Put your hands against the wall.”
Riley pushed Lenny against the casino’s wall, patted him down, and handcuffed him. He made Lenny sit on the ground against the base of the wall. When he turned around, Sunny Bob Walker was standing at arm’s length from him.
“Thank you, detective…”
“Riley. It’s Detective Riley, Mr. Walker.”
“Please call me Bob.”
Walker had taken a business card out of his billfold and slid it into Riley’s shirt pocket. “I’m indebted to you now, Detective Riley. If there is ever anything that I can do for you, just call me. I make it a point to pay my debts.”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
Riley had taken a clear evidence bag out of his pock
“One round? That’s all he had in the chambers?” Walker asked.
Riley smiled at him and answered, “This is an ancient piece – poorly maintained too. One bullet might have been enough to kill you both.”
“You’re probably right.” Walker grinned.
“Tell me something, Bob. Why didn’t you just give him the watch?”
Walker looked at his watch and smiled.
“Why would you risk your life for it?” Riley asked.
“This is no ordinary watch. There’s only one other like it in the world.”
“But he wouldn’t be able to pawn it.”
“That’s what I feared. He would have kept it, and he would have destroyed it. There is an obligation to protect what is beautiful and what is good in this world. I would never give him this watch.”
Riley just shrugged.
“When is his arraignment?” Walker asked. “I want to know when I should arrive.”
“There’s no reason for you to be there, Bob. If Lenny’s lawyer contests the charges, I’ll be in court to testify.”
“No. I want to attend.”
Riley stared at Walker for a moment. Then he shook his head and said, “He’ll have a short bail hearing in the courthouse at 10 tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll see you then, detective.”
“If you insist,” Riley said.
*****
By the next morning, a nor’easter had crept up the coast and was pounding the city with a cold, driving rain.
Riley had parked down the street from the courthouse and was running along the sidewalk under his umbrella. The city had demolished an old building in the lot next to the courthouse in anticipation of paving it for parking next week. They had cleared the site of debris and had leveled the dirt, but right now the lot was a quagmire. A torrent of water gushed out from the lot and over the sidewalk. Riley splashed through the muddy stream and rushed into the courthouse.
Inside the courtroom, Sunny Bob Walker was already there. He was wearing a new tuxedo and sitting near the middle of the public gallery. Riley caught the eye of the prosecutor and took his seat in the first row behind the prosecutor’s table.
Within a few minutes, the judge entered the courtroom. A short pudgy man with a neatly trimmed Van Dyke, he smiled at the clerk as he climbed the two stairs to his bench. “What do we have today?” he asked.
As the clerk announced Lenny Myers’s case from the docket, a deputy brought Lenny into the courtroom. Lenny was dressed in an orange jump suit from the jail. He sat next to his public defender, a man in his mid-20s, who was wearing a rumpled sports coat and had unbuttoned his collar and loosened his tie.
“These are serious accusations against your client, counselor,” the judge intoned. “Attempted armed robbery and aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. The presence of a firearm elevates the charge to a second-degree felony. How does your client plea, counselor?”
Lenny’s public defender rose and cleared his throat. “We plead not guilty, your honor.”
The judge scowled at him. “Do I need to remind you, counselor, that you are in a court of law? You’re not in law school anymore. Button your collar and straighten your tie, counselor.”
The young man blushed and fumbled with his collar as Lenny glared at him.
The judge turned to the prosecutor. “Does the prosecution have a recommendation for bail?”
The prosecutor rose to his feet. He was a handsome, athletic man in a superbly tailored business suit, and his head had been shaved and buffed to a powerful luster. He adjusted his pocket square, looked up at the judge, and smiled. “The people ask that the defendant be remanded to the Atlantic County jail and be held without bail until the commencement of his trial.”
Lenny’s public defender stumbled to his feet and shouted, “Objection!”
The judge smiled at him and said, “There’s no need to object, counselor. I was about to ask for your input. Now what is it that you want to say, son?”
“Thank you, your honor. Mr. Myers is the sole support of his family. His incarceration without bail would create a dire hardship for his family, since they would have no income.”
“How many children does Mr. Myers have, counselor?”
“Uh…” The young man turned to Lenny, who held up two fingers.
The judge did not wait for the lawyer’s reply. “Perhaps we should hear from someone who actually knows about the family,” the judge said. “Is Mrs. Myers in the courtroom?”
In the back of the gallery, a young woman with mousy brown hair timidly raised her hand. “I’m here, judge,” she said.
The judge craned his neck to see her. “Mrs. Myers, why don’t you come forward? Come to the front of the courtroom, dear.”
Rosalee Myers kept her eyes focused on the floor as she walked to the front of the courtroom. When she got to the gate at the front of the gallery, she stopped.
“Don’t be afraid, dear,” the judge said. He pointed to the chair in the witness box. “Come closer, and sit here.”
As she walked through the gate, the clerk came over with the Bible to swear her in, but the judge waved him off.
When she climbed the step to the witness box, the judge could see that she was a petite brunette with dark, doe eyes. She was attractive once, but a knife scar now disfigured her cheek.
Lenny stared at her across the courtroom. She never looked up at him, but she started to tremble, and everyone in the courtroom took notice.
“Now, you don’t need to be afraid, Mrs. Myers,” the judge said. “I simply want to learn something about your home life. Is that okay?”
“Yes.” She answered him softly and kept her eyes cast down.
“I notice that you have a significant scar on your face. How long have you had that scar?”
Rosalee put her hand on her scar and stared down at her lap, pulling into herself.
“Mrs. Myers?” the judge prodded.
She raised her head and turned toward the judge. “It was about a year ago,” she said.
“How did it happen?”
Lenny glared at her across the courtroom.
Rosalee was shaking visibly now, and she started to cry. “It was my fault,” she said. “It was just an accident. A simple accident.”
The judge gave Rosalee a weak smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Myers. You may step down and return to your seat. I think I now know enough about your family life. I’m sorry if I had upset you.”
As she stepped down, Rosalee glanced at Lenny and saw a silent curse pass over his lips. She covered her face with her hands and started sobbing as she returned to her seat.
The judge gave Lenny a cold, hard stare, and then he said this. “Mr. Myers, I’m scheduling your trial for two weeks from today at 10 AM in his courtroom. I am also setting your bail at $200,000.”
Lenny jumped up, turned toward Rosalee, and screamed, “Bitch!”
The judge’s face turned bright red, and he banged his gavel. “Counselor, if you cannot control your client, I will cite you both for contempt.” Then he turned to the bailiff. “Get Myers out of here. Please.”
At that moment, Sunny Bob Walker stepped into the aisle of the gallery and called, “Your honor! Please, your honor!”
The judge furiously wrapped his gavel. “There will be order in this court,” he shouted. Then he looked up and saw the man in the tuxedo in the gallery. “Oh…” he mumbled. Then after a moment, he said, “Mr. Walker? Is that you?”
“Yes, your honor. I apologize for interrupting these proceedings, but I wonder if I might be heard for a moment?”
“Yes. Go ahead, Mr. Walker.”
“I want to see Mr. Myers tried for his offense, but I don’t want to see his family hurt because of this. I would like to finance Mr. Myers’s bond so he can return to work before the trial.”
The judge was perplexed by Walker’s request. “Uh… It’s possible and legal for you to do that, Mr. Walker, but have you considered all the ramifications?”
“Like what, your honor?”
“First of all, there is a security threat. Mr. Myers is charged with aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. If he is released, he could come after you again with the intention of harming you.”
