Cause to Kill

“No!”

“Show me that computer.”

A scrunched face and a shake of his head told Avery all she needed to know.

“If you won’t log on and let me look at your search history right now, I’ll be back this afternoon with a warrant for your arrest.”

“What’s going on here?” someone roared.

A large, extravagant man stood in the doorway. He had perfectly cut, flowing white hair combed back from his face and a trimmed white goatee. Small, chunky black glasses framed angry green eyes. A crimson summer sweater was twirled over a white T-shirt. He wore jeans and black Crocs.

Lang covered his face and instantly fell apart.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.”

Avery flashed her badge.

“And you would be?”

“Wilson Kyle. I own this establishment.”

“My name is Avery Black. Homicide. Boston PD. I have reason to believe Mr. Lang here might be implicated in two possible homicides.”

He raised his brows in disbelief.

“John Lang?” he said. “You mean him? The man cowering before you? You think he could be responsible for murder?”

“Two girls from two different colleges,” she said and scrutinized every movement of John Lang, “positioned: one in the park and one in a cemetery.”

“I’ve read about this case,” Kyle confirmed.

A large palm went on John’s shoulder.

“John?” he asked with a sensitive tone. “Do you know anything about this?”

“I don’t know anything!” John cried. “Haven’t I been through enough?”

“How exactly have you implicated him in these crimes?”

“Those two girls both came here. He has a record. He has no alibi for the nights of the abductions and he won’t let me see what’s on that computer,” she said.

“Do you have a warrant?”

“No, but I can get one.”

Wilson Kyle lowered down with his immense presence and, with incredible patience and empathy, he tried to get John to hold his gaze.

“John,” he said, “it’s all right. The police are trying to solve a crime. What’s on the computer that you don’t want her to see? You can be honest with me.”

“I had to look!” he sobbed.

“It’s all right, John,” he said and leaned forward to whisper, “I won’t judge you.”

He rubbed John’s back, helped him up, and logged onto the computer.

“Password?” he asked.

John sniffled and rubbed his nose. A shake of his head and a soft, barely perceptible reply was whispered.

Wilson Kyle typed in his password.

“There you are, Officer Black,” he said. “Look and see. Come, John,” he added. “Let’s wait over here. It’s going to be all right. I promise. The officer just wants to confirm you’re not involved in a mass murder. You’re no murderer, are you, my boy? No, of course not, John. Of course not.”

Avery sat at the desk.

A quick search of the history revealed nothing. Art sites. Scrabble Word help and multiple artists and their works. She went through each day. On Tuesday, early in the morning, she saw a slew of pornography sites.

She looked up.

John was seated in a chair, his head down, hands in his face. Wilson Kyle stood behind him and glared at Avery like a great lord being forced to watch something unthinkable, and that fact made him angrier and angrier.

Back to the computer, Avery clicked on a few of the links. Young children appeared, naked or half naked. Ages ranged from six to twelve. Utterly disgusted by what she saw, Avery clicked on other sites to try to make some rational argument as to why she should ignore what she found. Based on his proclivity for little children, it was hard for her to imagine him as the killer.

“Do you know where he was on Saturday night?” she asked.

“I do,” Wilson said. “John was home watching a movie called Night of the Hunter. I know this because I recommended the movie, and he called me afterwards, I believe around ten o’clock, to express his feelings. I was unavailable, but I’m sure you can find that call if you check his phone records.”

“Can you account for your actions this past week?” she asked Wilson.

Wilson laughed.

“Do you know who I am, Officer Black? No, of course not. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not famous in any way, or especially well connected, but I have a deep interest in my community, and if I’m not out with friends, I’m usually feeding the homeless or at a charity auction somewhere in town. So, to answer your question: Yes. I can account for my actions all month, but I’m afraid I’ll require a warrant before this can go any further.”

You were wrong, Avery thought. This isn’t your guy. She could see right through these people. John was sick, and Wilson was a pompous, self-righteous prick. But they weren’t serial killers. They were too weak, both of them.

She sighed. She was wasting her time here.

She’d been in this place before – alone, no leads, out on a limb and bending the rules of her profession – but this time it felt personal. This time, it was about a serial killer. The last time Avery had dealt with a serial killer, she freed him and he killed again. Now it was as if that old case had been reborn again with this new killer, and if she could stop him somehow, she could free herself.

“I’ll be in touch,” Avery said and made her way out.

“Ms. Black,” Wilson called.

“Yes?”

“I’ll deal with the pornography you just found, have no doubt. I’m curious, though. Do you know why John might have searched for those images? And do you know why he molested those children so long ago? Let me tell you so that you can get some perspective, and maybe you won’t walk into another house or office space later on, half-cocked and full of prejudice and insinuation. You see, John here was raped repeatedly by his father and his mother as a child.”

John sobbed softly in his hands.