The Tipsy Gull, page 15
part #1 of Danny Barbosa Series
“Unless it is a copycat,” Ben said.
Danny received a key card to a vacant room and arranged the chairs on opposite ends of the little table so he could conduct interviews.
A patrol unit arrived with his first witness. The middle-aged man struggled to get out of the car, his girth wider than the door frame. The officer introduced Timothy Gutenberg, the Motel 6 night manager. He was dressed in sweatpants and a black t-shirt. A pair of sandals and a visor completed his wardrobe.
Danny stood and held his hand out, introducing himself. The witness gave him a firm shake and said to call him Timmy. His hand wet with sweat. Danny wiped it off on his own pant leg before sitting back down. He jotted down the witness’s information at the top of the page, put his pen down, and sighed. Waving the registration card in from of Timmy, Danny said, “Did you check the guy’s ID before he filled this out?”
“Yeah, I did.”
Danny nodded and read the name on the card. “The ID said Alex Coffman?”
“Not exactly.” Timmy looked at the wall behind Danny.
“What do you mean ‘not exactly’?”
Timmy scratched his two-day old stubble and looked down.
“Look, Timmy, why don’t you start from the beginning, okay.”
Timmy nodded and took a sip of water from the bottle Danny provided. “Last night, about eleven-thirty, a white SUV pulls in. The driver looks about forty, a white guy. He wanted to pay cash for a room, and he looked nervous.”
“Okay.” Danny jotted notes.
“So anyway, I tell the guest he needs to fill out the card, and I have to see his ID. He pulls out a twenty, and asks if I could forget the ID.”
“What’d you say?”
“I take my job serious, Detective. And I know the law, so I tell him no.” Timmy squirmed in the seat, which was too small for his frame. “He says he’s married and glanced back at his car. There’s a teenager sitting in the passenger seat. I informed him that I need to see ID before he can fill out the registration card. I tell him if his writing’s messy, and I can’t read it, so be it.”
Danny rolled his eyes. These cards were in place to help law enforcement at times like this, but so many motel clerks bent the rule in their favor. Nothing he could do about that now.
Timmy put his hands up, “I know, I know. I’m not supposed to say that. But who the hell would have thought he’d get himself killed in my motel, right?”
Danny shrugged. “But you did check his ID?”
“Yeah, the guy scrawled Alex Coffman and showed me his license. His first name was Aaron. I don’t remember the exact last name, but it was similar sounding but with a K.”
Aaron Kaufman? Danny thought about the teacher he’d interviewed a few months ago. Aaron had the same look as the other victims and they were going to schedule an interview with him. Danny wrote more notes before asking, “Now, when you say there was a teen in the car, how old are you talking about?”
“Not really sure. If I had to guess, I’d say maybe eighteen or nineteen,” Timmy said.
“Her race?”
“Black. But not her, it was a dude.”
Danny raised his eyebrows and scratched his head. A black male? Maybe Ben was right, and it was a copycat. But if the victim was Kaufman, how could it be. “You’re sure?”
“I think he might have been a faggot, but yeah it was a guy.” Timmy pinched his neck. “He was really skinny and his Adam’s apple was pronounced.”
“What made you think he was gay?”
“Come on, those guys are everywhere,” he shook his large head. “Two guys checking into a hotel room, you know what I mean?”
“Okay. Did you see him go into the room with Aaron?”
“Yep, Alex, or Aaron drove straight over and parked his SUV in front of their room. I saw them both enter.”
“Could you tell how tall the guy was?”
“I’d guess close to six feet. He looked the same height as Aaron.”
Danny made a note to check the height of the victim. “Did you see them leave at any time?”
“Not that I saw. I left at seven this morning and didn’t give it a second thought until you guys dragged me out of bed and brought me here.” He took off his visor and ran his fingers through his unkempt hair.
“Sorry about that, but we’re in the middle of a murder investigation. Your input is invaluable.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Timmy waved it off.
“Alright then, I need you to hang around a bit, in case my partner wants to talk to you. But don’t talk about what you saw to anyone else, okay?”
“Yeah, I know the drill. I worked security when I was younger.” Timmy used the table to help him stand and shuffled off to the vending machine.
# # #
While Danny interviewed Timmy, Ben was interviewing Kathy in room twenty-two. “What time you think it was?” Ben asked, sitting in the chair he pulled from the small table.
Kathy sat on the edge of the bed, dressed in shorts and a faded t-shirt. She was barefoot, and her hair was uncombed. Taking a drag on a cigarette, she blew the smoke straight up. “Maybe around midnight.”
“Okay, let’s see if I got this right. You’re down at the ice machine when you hear tires squeal. You look up and saw a big truck speeding off. That’s when you notice a guy open the passenger side of that Navigator parked outside. He grabbed a black plastic bag and headed into room one-thirteen.”
She nodded her head.
“You’re sure he was male?”
“Yeah he looked like a guy. I think he was gay though.” Kathy scratched her arm.
Ben scanned his notes. “Five-ten, one-hundred and forty pounds, short black afro. About eighteen years old. Black pants and a purple or pink long sleeve shirt.”
Kathy nodded.
“And you’re sure he went into one-thirteen?”
“Uh huh. The curtain was open, and I saw him inside, too.”
“Did you see anybody else come or go into that room?”
“Nope, I was pretty much working after that.”
There was another woman lying on the other bed asleep. Ben nodded in that direction. “Do you think she saw anything?”
Kathy shook her head. “No, she wasn’t here yet.”
“Alright. If you think of anything else, give us a call, okay?” Ben handed her a generic business card with the PD’s number.
Kathy set it on the dresser and said she’d call.
# # #
Danny met Ben outside room one-thirteen to compare notes when Kelly stepped out of the motel room to inform them, they had the victim’s ID.
Danny stood behind her and read the California driver’s license. It confirmed what Timmy had said. Aaron Kaufman, age thirty-eight.
Danny handed the CDL to Ben. “Check out the victim’s name.”
“Shit, it’s that teacher, right?” Ben said. “The one you interviewed that has the same facial features.”
“I’m afraid so.”
Hawthorne approached. He was the only ranking officer, besides the chief, who knew about the Chameleon’s notes, so they updated him on the status of the case. Then they all headed to the conference room and briefed the remaining brass on what they’d discovered so far.
Because of the suspect’s description, and the other differences noted, the possibility of a copy-cat was discussed. However, the condition of the body, plus the identity of the victim made them lean toward the suspect being the Slayer.
Channel 5’s news team was the first to report the update. “I’m coming to you live from Motel 6 where it had appeared the San Diego Slayer had killed another victim. However, a stunning development has taken place. A reliable source has confirmed that the detectives on scene have labeled this a copycat murder. We don’t have any more information on this turn of events, but we’ll update you as soon as we know more. This is Angela Castaneda with ABC news.”
One by one, different news teams reported the same thing. CNN lost interest and the helicopter flew off. The majority of the crowd departed.
Danny huddled outside the motel room with Ben and Hawthorne. None of them knew where the report had come from, but it’d make their job easier with fewer cameras around.
Kelly stuck her head out the door. “Guys, we found the note.”
Back in the room, she explained that one of her techs found it pressed against the baseboard, near the bed. She held up the plastic bag that contained the evidence.
EGO JUDICIUM TE AD MORTEM.
IUDICES JUDEX ET EXEQUUTOR
SO MUCH BLOOD!
The Chameleon
It had been written on a 4 x 6 stationary paper with the Motel 6 logo on top. Danny glanced at the small table. Besides the empty bottles of alcohol and cups, there was a thin notepad with the same Motel 6 logo. Donning gloves, he picked it up from the corner and held it to the light. He couldn’t see an impression on the top sheet. He counted the sheets in the pad—five.
Kelly stood next to him, her hips pressing up against his. “It doesn’t look like any sheets are missing.”
Her closeness wasn’t lost on him. She leaned her head in, and he sniffed the perfume he’d noticed the other day.
“It’s Amber Mystique,” Kelley whispered, as if reading his mind.
Danny took a step back. He didn’t need any more complications.
“Show me where he found the note,” Ben said.
Kelly walked Ben toward the head of the bed and pointed to where it’d been found. Danny stood on the opposite side and scanned the room. The connecting door to room 114 was next to the bed. He walked over to it and peered closer—the deadbolt was unlocked. “Our killer entered through this door. Maybe she thought of the note at the last minute, reopened the door, and set it on the bed. The air from the AC might have blown it off the bed, and it stuck to the baseboard.”
One of the crime scene techs dusted the knob for prints, with negative results. Then Danny opened the door, the connecting one was locked.
“Look, right there.” Kelly pointed to smudges of dried blood on the inside of the door frame.
Danny hurried to the motel office, Ben a step behind.
“Is anybody checked in to room one-fourteen?” Danny asked the motel clerk.
The clerk stated he had checked in a girl yesterday about three in the afternoon. She had no vehicle, just walked up with a carryon and paid cash. He picked up the guest log and tapped it with his finger. “Right there, Holly Mackey.”
“Did you check ID?” Ben asked.
He looked down. “Yep, same name. Holly Mackey.”
“What’d she look like?” Danny asked.
“She had red hair in a kind of bob cut. I think she had green eyes or maybe blue. She was about…” he held his hand about a foot shorter than Danny. “…that tall. Maybe early twenties.”
Timothy walked up with a large soda and pack of donuts in his hand. “The girl from one-fourteen left about two in the morning with a bag, walking south on Harbor Bay Blvd. Yeah, she was a red head.”
“We never cleaned her room. After the body was found, things got kind of hectic,” the clerk said.
He issued them a pass key and Ben and Danny rushed toward the room. Guns drawn, they looked at each other and nodded. Ben unlocked the door with the swipe card and they poured into the room. Once it had been cleared, they re-holstered their weapons. Danny whiffed and the smell of bleach floated into his nostrils. They peeked into the bathroom. Blood smeared the vanity, and shower curtain. Bloody towels littered the bathroom floor.
CHAPTER 19
Claire sat on the edge of her recliner, mesmerized by the news coverage at Motel 6. The scene was a madhouse with the mob of people gathered, all wanting to be part of history. Her goal was to be an actress and she was proving to herself she had what it takes. She changed channels. CNN broadcast aerial footage. Claire smiled. She was proud of her infamy and thrust her arm in the air, then retrieved a Diet Pepsi from the fridge. She reclined back and enjoyed the show. It’s not like she was killing for this fame, but still, it made her feel important. Alive.
Sassy jumped onto her lap and purred. Claire scooped her up and snuggled with her. “I think we’re famous now, Sas.”
She flipped channels back and forth between local and national coverage. After a couple of hours of watching the same story, Claire’s mouth dropped when a reporter mentioned copy-cat.
“What? Why are they saying that?” Her mouth went dry and she scooted to the edge of her seat. Turning up the volume, she tried another channel. The same thing was being reported. Her stomach cramped. Was this some sort of trap, were they trying to trick her into making a mistake?
Sassy meowed.
“Quiet!” Claire slammed her hand on the end table next to her chair. Sassy jumped down and darted into the kitchen.
She frantically switched from channel to channel. Had she overdone it by dressing as Sammy? No, the note would tell them it was me.
When she switched back to CNN, talking heads were exploring the common practice of copycat murders. Claire stared in disbelief. Had someone else killed Aaron? She tried to recall that night. Like always, she had entered of trance when she killed him. But yeah, it had to be her. She clearly recalled pricking him with the poisonous toxin as well as resuscitating him. “Am I losing my mind, Sassy.”
Claire looked around. “Sassy?”
Channel 8 continued to show live coverage with Stephanie Chang reporting. Men in white lab coats exited room one-fourteen. They figured out her little ruse. Maybe that was why they’d said copycat, because her MO was different. She hadn’t taken a shower in one-thirteen and maybe she left the note on the table in room one-fourteen by mistake. She couldn’t remember. Claire concluded that it was just Barbosa trying to trick her. She shook her head. I’m smarter than that, Detective.
***
Tala walked through the airport, followed by Jessa who was ignoring her. They were en route to Gate 167 where they’d meet Jojo and Nicky for their flight to South Korea. Businessmen in suits hustled ahead of them, rolling carry-on bags. Parents herded their small children, while juggling large suitcases and baby bags. A robotic voice announced various flights were boarding.
Tala heard a sniffle and turned around. Jessa’s face scrunched up as she held back the crying. Tala stopped and put her arm on her daughter’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. Do you want to talk about Cameron?”
“It’s not that,” Jessa said.
“What’s wrong then?”
Jessa rubbed the tears out of her eyes. “Will Dad be okay? Are you guys gonna get divorced? I don’t want to live in the Philippines. Is Dad cheating on you?” The questions rolled off her tongue in quick succession.
“Whoa, slow down there. We’re not getting divorced. Your father and I just need a little space right now.” Tala held Jessa’s hands. “Anyway, we’re here for Lola, remember? We’ll be home in a few weeks. Your dad will be fine, okay?”
Jessa’s lip trembled. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“For what? You have nothing to apologize about, okay?” Tala drew her daughter closer, into a hug, and stroked her head as Jessa sobbed.
Once Jessa had been reassured, they continued their way. They arrived at their gate about an hour before boarding time and Tala spotted Jojo and his daughter, Nicky. As she approached them, Jojo stood and said to Jessa, “Wow, you’re getting tall. How old are you now?”
Jessa looked up from her cell and beamed. “I’ll be fourteen in a few weeks.”
He smiled and turned to Tala, kissing her on the cheek. “Ate Tala, it’s always good to see you. Nicky, bless your Tita.”
Nicky obliged and took Tala’s hand, pressing it to her own forehead.
“What’d he called you?” Jessa asked.
“A-t-e. That’s the Filipino way to address older females,” said Tala.
Jojo nodded and held his hand out, palm down. Jessa gave him a reverse high-five.
“I’m sorry, I never taught her that,” Tala said.
Nicky giggled. “I just learned yesterday.”
Tala and her brother laughed. I’m not the only one who hasn’t stayed true to our culture’s customs. She explained to Jessa how to address elders with the sign of respect. Nicky demonstrated again and Jessa blessed her Tito.
The girls giggled and took turns blessing each other.
Tala smiled at the girls, then looked somber. “Have you heard anything? Any updates on Mama?”
Jojo took a deep breath. “Boboy will meet us in Davao. I told him not to let her know we’re coming, so we can surprise her. He said she’s out of the hospital, but still weak. There’s not much they could do. She has medication, with instructions to return to the hospital if she takes a turn for the worse.”
Tala took Jojo’s hand in hers and they sat, each in their own thoughts. After a bit, Jojo said. “Boboy says Papa hasn’t had a drink in a week. He just sits beside her bed, talking to her and praying.”
Tala smiled. “Well maybe one good thing will come of this.”
Jojo gave a one-handed shrug, and Tala knew once Mama was well, Papa would be back to drinking.
“Hey Dario, has gotten back into boxing. They said he’s as fast as Papa ever was. He has a promoter wanting him to turn pro.”
“That’s great. He was still young when I left, but I remember he was a natural. Not like the rest of you guys.” Tala teased her brother.
“But not better than you,” Jojo patted her on the back.
Tala blushed. Her father was an accomplished boxer and had tried to pass the trade on to his children. None of them seemed to have inherited his skills except for Tala. Her hands were quick as lightening, and she could take a punch. But her mama had put a stop to it when she caught them sparring one day. She’d cussed Papa out and had told them no daughter of hers would have anything to do with that barbaric sport. It was for men only. Tala had tried to explain that women competed in boxing as well as MMA.
Jojo laughed as they shared the memory. “I remember Mama’s words when she yelled at you, ‘Dili ikaw.’”
