Purification

Chapter 3
Following the Breadcrumbs

Chapter Description: Their suspect appears to be leaving the detectives a trail to follow, but does he want to be caught or is he trying to catch them.

I try my hand at some action writing in this chapter. I’m not sure how well that turned out, but on the upside there is more contact with the mentally regressed in this one.

III

The ringing woke him out of a sound sleep. Opening his eyes Scott found himself in a room that was still darkened. Turning on his side his eyes focussed on the clock on the bed stand. It was 5:50AM, it was still dark out and it wasn’t his alarm that was ringing. “Jesus Scott will you turn that damned thing off!” his wife, Tegan, moaned pushing the pillow over her head.

“Sorry,” he croaked fumbling on the stand for the pulsing, ringing cell phone. Finally grasping it and flipping it open. “Hello?”

“Scott, it’s me,” said the voice of Graham. “Sorry to wake you up mate but we got some big news.”

“That’s okay. What is it?”

“I spent all night over at the lab at Auckland Central working on that letter. We got a fingerprint match.”

Scott sat bolt upright in the bed. “Who?” he gasped.

“Cheryl Collins.”

“Oh my God!”

“I said the same thing.”

“Well, you know this means. We’ll have to re-interview her.”

“Yeah, I reckon we’ll have to now. Not that the first time gave us any help.”

“Look, obviously he knows we’re going to get her fingerprint on the letter, this wasn’t a mistake. But he probably won’t count on us getting it so fast. We need to use that to our advantage. Meet me at the Collins’ house as soon as you can.”

Slapping the phone shut, Scott leapt out of bed and began to fumble about the dark room getting dressed. “Can’t you sleep through the night just once,” Tegan complained.

“When this is done I’ll stay at home with you for as long as you like honey. We just gotta get this guy, then we can have some real time together, I promise.”

Tegan didn’t reply but Scott had no time to dwell on it now. He had no time for arguing, this was the biggest break they’d had in this case. This madman was leaving them a trail of breadcrumbs and he had no choice but to see where it led.

**

The tree-lined suburban streets of Pakuranga were a far cry from the ghettos of Otara and Mangere where Detective Newcomb spent most of his time, but today this neighbourhood could be just as dangerous as any place he’d been. Their suspect could be lurking anywhere here, this whole thing could be a trap. It was quarter to seven now, the sun was just rising and office-workers were getting in their cars for the commute to the city centre. Joggers passed each other on the quiet footpaths, couples walked their dogs and put out their rubbish for collection. It all seemed perfectly innocent, but Scott wasn’t about to let himself be lulled into a false sense of security.

Scott parked his green Holden Astra in front of the Collins’ house. This was it. He peered around in all directions, paying particular attention to any white saloons or coupes. There was no sign of Graham’s Subaru on the street. Scott had beaten him here. He pulled out his cell phone and rang Graham but it went straight to voicemail. Not bothering to leave a message he decided to head inside alone, Graham would be here soon enough.

Cheryl Collins had been a promising young university student when she became the second victim of this lunatic. A beautiful blonde twenty-year old, she was studying chemistry at uni, had a wide circle of friends and was generally well-liked by everyone. She was also a prostitute. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Prostitution was perfectly legal in New Zealand. Of course not everyone thought that made it okay. And clearly someone had a very great dislike for prostitutes. It was Cheryl’s misfortune to have crossed paths with just such a man. A man who decided to make an example out of the pretty young university student turned street-walker.

Scott headed up the driveway and then up the steps to the front door. Amy Collins, Cheryl’s mum, answered the door. She was a tired looking woman in her mid-fifties. Certainly caring for her daughter for the last three months had aged her. Scott could see the new wrinkles under her eyes, the streaks of grey in her black hair. She was dressed in a baggy orange jumper and pyjama pants. She seemed surprised to see the detective at her doorstep. “Detective Newcomb, what are you doing here?”

“G’day Mrs. Collins, I’m sorry to show up unannounced so early in the morning.”

“No, that’s alright. What’s the matter though? What’s happened?”

“Well if I could come in for a moment, I’m afraid I really must ask your daughter a couple questions. It won’t take long.”

“Well come in then. Can I get you a cup of coffee or tea?”

“No thank you.” Scott headed into the living room of the house. Soft toys and stuffed animals were scattered across the carpeted floor. Mrs. Collins opened the heavy thermal curtains, allowing light into the room, then headed down the hall to get her daughter. Scott looked around the room for anything out of place, but only saw a well-used toddler’s playroom.

Mrs. Collins returned leading Cheryl into the room by the hand. Cheryl was dressed in a baggy white t-shirt with an image of a bunny on the front. It didn’t fully cover the bulky night-time nappy between her legs. Cheryl gazed at the detective with wide curious eyes, sucking away at a pacifier. Her mum helped her to sit on her bum on the floor and she promptly began to play with a dolly. Scott thought it was very cute the way her hair was done up in pig-tails, but overall it was a sad sight. He knelt down in front of the playing girl and reached up, softly stroking her cheek. She stared into his eyes with nothing but blank innocence in her own, continuing to suckle the binkie. Slowly Scott moved his hand to the pacifier and plucked it out of her mouth with an audible pop. She dribbled saliva down her chin and onto her t-shirt as she licked her lips.

“Hello Cheryl. Do you remember me? Remember Mr. Scott?” he asked in a sing-song voice.

The mental toddler giggled and nodded. “Po-eese-man,” she declared, reaching out to feel his face, sticking her fingers in his mouth and at his eyes until he drew back.

“Naughty Cheryl! Mummy told you, don’t poke.” Her mum chided.

Cheryl pouted as though she’d been slapped. “Cher-cher no pokey!” she yelled.

Trying to gain back her attention Scott agreed, “That’s right, you don’t poke Cheryl. You’re a good girl!”

Cheryl’s frown was gone instantly. She smiled and stuck out her tongue playfully. “Good giwl!” she repeated.

“Now Cheryl I need to you to be a very good girl and remember something for me. Can you try that for Mr. Scott?”

Cheryl nodded, but then began playing with her t-shirt, lifting it up over her face, revealing her bare breasts to Scott, then flipping it down slightly and yelling “Pee-a-boo!”

“Cheryl, naughty baby! Don’t show the man your boobies,” her mum admonished again.

Cheryl responded in typical toddler fashion by yelling “No!” and blowing a raspberry at her mum, still showing off her assets. She slapped at her bare boobs and insisted “Mine!”

Seeing the exasperated look on Amy’s face Scott assured her, “It’s okay Mrs. Collins, she doesn’t know any better. My 2 year old niece runs around bare naked every chance she gets.”

Amy didn’t seem to take much comfort from this and simply remained silent. Scott turned back to the grown toddler and said, “Now Cheryl you remember the day you got all little?”

Cheryl nodded. “Me was big giwl! Wike mummy.”

“Yes you were, that’s right.”

“Me go school. Gots pwetty cwothes n’ shoes!”

“Yes you did, I know,” Scott agreed, trying to sound impressed.

Cheryl seemed pleased that the grown-up knew she’d been a big person like him once. She smiled coyly at him and began to suck her thumb. “But that all changed one day didn’t it Cheryl? You’re not a big girl anymore are you?”

Cheryl shook her head vigorously. “All gone!” she yelled, removing her thumb to clap her hands and then hold them out to show they were empty. “Go bye-bye,” she explained. “Cher-Cher no school.”

“Yes, you stay home and play all day now, eh?”

Cheryl nodded, then raised her foot and wiggled her toes. “No gots shoes.”

“Those are for big girls, eh?”

Cheryl nodded.

“So the day you got all little sweetie...”

“Siwwy smell,” she said, poking at her nose.

“There was a funny smell?” Scott asked as she began to pick her nose.

Cheryl nodded again. “Smelly. Pwetty colours. Cher-Cher all widdle.”

“Do you remember who gave you the silly smell?”

“Big man,” she stated simply, now picking her nose and sucking her thumb at once.

“Now this is very important Cheryl. Have you ever seen that big man again?”

Cheryl shook her head back and forth vigorously. “Nuh-uh.”

Her mum seemed much more distressed by this question though. “Why are you asking her that? She’s with me all the time now. Don’t you think I’d notice a strange man around my home?”

“We have evidence that the man in question may have seem Cheryl recently.”

“That is ridiculous! You must be mistaken,” Amy insisted, clearly disturbed by the idea.

“You’re probably right, but you should keep a close eye on Cheryl for the next few days, just in case.”

“Thank you detective, but I already do that.”

Scott nodded and looked back down at the grown toddler now chewing on her hair. He shook his head sadly. Scott had hoped perhaps a piece of her mind would return despite the doctors’ prognosis that this wasn’t ever going to happen. But clearly this was too optimistic of him.

Soon Amy had Cheryl’s binkie back in her mouth and had lifter the girl into her lap. “I’m sorry she couldn’t be of more use to you. We’d do anything to catch the man that did this to her of course,” Amy apologised, bouncing the 20 year old girl on her knee.

Scott watched Cheryl smile ear to ear around her binkie, screeching with glee. “It’s okay, I don’t know what I expected. We had a tip that led me here. But it’s looking like a dead end.”

“Cheryl hasn’t spoken in complete sentences since this was done to her. I doubt she even recalls what it was like to be a grown-up. She doesn’t have shoes because she kept pulling them off and throwing them away. They keep her from her favourite pastime, playing with her toes. It’s enough of a struggle to keep her shirt and nappy on her.”

Scott watched to see Cheryl’s reaction to this discussion but there wasn’t one. Even though they were talking about her with her sitting right there on her mum’s lap Cheryl’s short attention span and poor language comprehension skills meant she was oblivious. She was simply playing with the long strands of her mum’s hair and sucking rhythmically on her binkie.

Sticking a finger down the girl’s nappy, Amy announced that Cheryl needed a new one, so Scott bid the duo goodbye, taking a last look back at the beautiful slender blonde girl lying on her back on the carpet sucking away at her thumb while her mum stripped the dirty nappy off her. Scott was determined to catch this guy.

As he exited the drive and walked along the footpath back to his car he thought about how stupid this guy was making him look. He’d come all the way out here on a wild goose chase and not only that, he’d looked like a fool in front of the mother of one of the victims. Scott fingered the unlock button on his keychain and stepped around to the driver side of his car. As he reached for the door he saw it out of the corner of his eye. On the opposite side of the street three cars down was a white Mazda Atenza. But most importantly, he could feel that he was being watched and as he looked up, he could see the driver sitting in the parked Mazda. Scott turned and began to walk into the middle of the street, proceeding slowly towards the car. He could see that it was a man in the driver seat.

The Mazda’s engine roared to life and the car suddenly jolted forward into the road, tyres squealing, smoke pouring from them as they spun. The car headed straight for Scott. He threw himself sideways and avoided being run down. As the car flew past him he decided now was one of those times he wished New Zealand police carried guns like their American counterparts. The car had barely passed by the time Scott was on his feet and pounding down the asphalt to his car. Jumping in, he started the Astra and made a U turn from the car park, racing after the speeding Mazda. He was driving his own vehicle, a 1.8 litre V6 with minimal power. The car he was after was a 2.3 litre sports hatch, likely with a tiptronic gearbox. He just hoped the morning traffic would keep the Mazda’s speed limited.

As he floored the accelerator down the residential street it occurred to Scott that this was the worst possible time and place for a pursuit. The footpaths were filled with primary school kids in their matching yellow polo shirts and green school shorts, half wearing black leather school shoes or roman sandals and half padding along in bare feet. Some were tossing rugby balls back and forth, others riding bikes or scooters, all just waiting to dart out into the street.

As the speedometer hit 80KPH he hit the end of the street. Slamming on the brake and clutch Scott down-shifted to third gear as he went into what had to be the first ever four-wheel drifting power-slide he’d ever done in a car other than a police car. Pakuranga Road was clogged with morning traffic, but the bus lane was wide open, except that was for one white Mazda and now a Holden hot on its tail. Having no siren Scott could only lean on the horn as he roared up to 120KPH in the 50KPH zone, racing over the bridge crossing from Manukau into Auckland city.

As they neared Mt. Wellington a VW Passat began to make a turn into a side road right in front of Scott. He hit the horn but this only caused the driver to slam on his breaks, blocking the whole of the bus lane. Scott’s heart was pounding a mile a minute. There was no time to stop, he was still doing over 100! With a wall of stopped traffic on his right Scott had only one choice. He yanked the wheel hard left and jumped the kerb onto the footpath, swerving wildly to avoid the cement power-polls and the wooden fences and gates of the houses on the left.

Scott succeeded in bringing the car safely back into the bus lane just in time to cross Mt. Wellington Highway. The Mazda blasted across the intersection unscathed and Scott said a little prayer and leaned hard on the horn as he blew across all six lanes of the major cross-road at 90. He made it across five lanes. He knew he’d pressed his luck too far before it happened, he could see the minivan in the sixth lane and he knew it didn’t see him. Turning left on a green light the minivan had no reason to look his way. It hit him across the boot sending his car into a wild spin. Scott had of course heard tales of near death experiences, heard of people seeing their lives flash before their eyes. That isn’t what happened to him. Scott was too focused on keeping the spinning car on the road. He succeeded. Though it had seemed an eternity Scott had only done two full 360s and came out facing the right way. The engine sputtered but didn’t die and he was soon back in gear and racing after the Mazda.

By sheer luck the Mazda was caught up in traffic at the next light and Scott was able to catch up. As they pulled onto the striped divider along Ellerslie-Panmure Highway they blasted past a speed camera. Scott considered waving hello at it as it registered their speeds of 120 and higher, probably the highest it had ever recorded. Just moments later the Mazda swung right, across oncoming traffic, and up the ramp onto the Southern Motorway. Scott slammed on his brakes as cars swerved left and right to avoid the Mazda. A little Daihatsu Charade sideswiped him and sent his car careening into the right turn-lane where he ploughed into the back of another Holden, crumpling that car’s boot and destroying his grill and headlights, not to mention making the bonnet v-shaped.

Thankfully the airbag hadn’t deployed and when he threw the car in reverse he managed to separate from the other Holden and turn across the now stopped traffic on the other side and onto the ramp. There he discovered the Mazda again stuck in traffic not too far ahead. He took the car up the rough shoulder and past the on-ramp lights. Soon he was back on the tail of the Mazda doing 140 up the left shoulder past stopped traffic.

The long chase came to a quick stop as they reached the Khyber Pass Road off-ramp with the Sky Tower now looming before them. A Toyota station wagon turned into the off-ramp, cutting across the shoulder before the Mazda. Scott watched as the Mazda slammed into the rear of the station-wagon, launching the Mazda airborne, rolling as it flew. It landed upside-down and rolled again, then slid upside-down into the concrete barrier before stopping in a shower of parks. Scott was in trouble himself though. As he swerved to avoid the stopped Toyota his damaged car gave out, the left front tyre exploding and sending him sliding sideways into a stopped taxi. The airbags blew this time as the entire passenger side of the Holden disintegrated from the 100KPH impact. The bonnet crumpled and shattered the windscreen, shards of glass blasted through the car’s cabin and smoke from the exploding airbags filled the interior. The vertical B-column turned horizontal and went sideways across the car and out the other side nearly taking the roof clean off.

By the time the dust settled Scott had his seat-belt off and was climbing out of the wreckage through the gaping hole in the twisted metal where the passenger door should have been. Scott was dizzy, disoriented and sore all over, but his adrenaline was pumping and he needed to find the other driver, his suspect, so he forced himself forward. Unfortunately he had only taken a couple steps when fell over from a wave of dizziness brought on by what was likely a mild concussion. By the time he’d regained his balance and finished vomiting the driver of the white car was gone. Witnesses were screaming that he’d carjacked a man in a Ford Mondeo and driven off. Scott cursed like a sailor, his best chance to catch his man had slipped through his fingers.