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  Walking down the incline to the room holding Marty prisoner, Keith picked up an old, wooden, desk chair found in many of these state buildings. He wondered why furniture in state facilities always had to be so drab and depressing. “The people who picked this crap out should be institutionalized themselves.”

  Unlocking and opening the door, he knew Marty would be sitting on the bed. There was no other place for her to sit in her new “digs.” Stepping into the room, he saw Marty sitting on the bed turning her head to watch as he closed the door and placed the chair a few feet away from the bed.

  Keith straddled the chair and sat looking at Marty without saying a word. He continued to stare at her, watching as she began to squirm under his unyielding gaze. Marty tucked her feet under herself and folded her arms across her chest in an intuitive, self-protective gesture, hiding her breasts. She refused to look away from him, staring back into his eyes defiantly. “She is a feisty little bitch,” he thought without making the slightest movement. He kept his breathing easy and rhythmic, enjoying the buildup of tension, while toying with her.

  Marty felt like she was going to explode as her anxiety level tried to find a release. Although she was returning his stare, every part of her being was screaming inside waiting for something to happen: for anything to happen. The silence was pounding in her head.

  “How can silence be so loud?” she thought watching the muscles in his thighs tighten just before he suddenly stood up over the chair.

  Without saying a word, he signaled her with his hand to stand up next to the bed. Hesitating at first, he signaled her more forcefully the second time. She knew by the sharpness of the second request, that if she resisted any longer he would strike her again as he did before. Slowly she pulled her legs out from under her and placed each foot onto the floor standing as instructed. Before she could stand erect and look at him, his hand reached out grabbing the front of her blouse pulling it downward so forcefully the buttons popped off flying across the room exposing her breasts held in place by a see-through black bra. He continued straddling the chair as the last button stopped rolling on the floor, hitting one of the walls making a little clicking sound. He moved away from the chair, kicking it out of the way. The chair slid a few feet across the floor before falling onto its side with a loud crash. Simultaneously, he grabbed the front of Marty’s jeans, pulling her up against his body. The blackness of his eyes mixed with the heat of his body made Marty shudder.

  Still, he did not say a word. There was no sound with the exception of his breathing which continued to be controlled even after kicking the chair away. Marty could feel the depth of the complete darkness driving this person. She knew instinctively that this person holding her against him, looking down into her eyes, was a person totally devoid of any human compassion. There was no conscience to prevent this man from violating her as no other human being had ever been violated before. She renewed her resolve to fight with every ounce of strength she could muster, but knew in her heart there was little she would be able to do when he decided it was time for her to die.

  Locked together by the grip on Marty’s jeans, he smelled the fear begin to permeate the air around them. Loosening his grip on her jeans he began to undo her belt. Marty stiffened as the belt was pulled out of the loops and fell to the floor. It was at this point Marty closed her eyes knowing what would follow. She heard her jean’s zipper as he pulled it downward while unfastening the top button, exposing the low-cut waist band of her panties. Still, he did not speak a word. But, the breathing, the calm, rhythmic breathing continued.

  Letting go of Marty, Keith stepped back and signaled Marty to pull her jeans down and take them off. By having Marty perform this task, he was making her become part of her own humiliation. He knew the disgust she was feeling right at this instant as she bent over to pull each leg of her jeans from her left and right foot. He had felt the same humiliation many times at the orphanage.

  Marty moved back toward the bed leaving the jeans on the floor between her and her captor. She was praying this was as far as he would go and that she would be allowed the dignity of not being stripped naked. At this moment, her bra and panties were the only things affording her any dignity or protection. She closed her eyes so she would not have to look at him. Marty did not want to acknowledge any signal given by him which would leave her completely naked, physically and emotionally. Her eyes snapped open when she heard the clap of his hands. Her fears were well founded. He signaled her to unclasp her bra and remove her panties. The sickness in her stomach was overwhelming. Marty dry heaved numerous times while slowly removing her undergarments, letting them drop to the floor.

  Keith moved over to the chair, picking it upright. Straddling the chair once again, he sat to observe Marty’s total nakedness standing before him. She knew if she tried covering her breasts or pubic area he would signal her to remove her hands and arms. He might strike her again like he did before. So, Marty stood with her arms by her side unable to prevent this “viewing.” She felt his eyes penetrating her body with the same intense physical violation of rape. Revulsion and nausea mixing together made her feel faint and unsteady on her feet. “This is it. I’m going to die.” She thought.

  “Not the most physically attractive girl I have seen,” he thought. “Breasts could be a little bigger, and she needs a little more meat on her bones, but she is definitely just what I need for playtime.”

  Keith stood up, signaled Marty to pick up the five buttons and clothing on the floor. She stood in front of him holding all of the items while she stared at the floor. Still holding the chair in his left hand, he took the clothing and buttons from Marty, putting the buttons in his pants pocket. He held the clothing under his left arm, turned toward the door, but, as he took the first step, he delivered another backhand to Marty’s face sending her backward onto the bed. He did not look back.

  “I love this,” he thought. “I absolutely love this.”

  61

  Kim and Derek were on their way to the state hospital in Westborough after speaking with a representative from the electric company. They were surprised to learn that nine of the fifteen buildings on the property were still using electricity. Three of the buildings were currently occupied and leased by satellite programs serving mental health patients who were living in the surrounding communities. The remaining six buildings were presumed empty but required heat to maintain structural integrity.

  I was driving to Milford Hospital after receiving word that Doc Cavanaugh was out of the ICU and recovering in his own room. I left a message for Peggy on her cell phone to let her know where I was going to be for the next hour or so. Her support this last week had been a key factor in helping me hold everything together. If I needed to worry about an upset wife while dealing with this case, I think I would have cashed in my chips and moved under the Blackstone river bridge to share a cigar with Harvey, our resident hobo.

  Jerry Bickford’s services were to be held tonight as well as the services for Christine Sawyer. I would make sure to spend time at both. Pulling into the hospital parking lot, I instinctively looked into my rear view and side mirrors for any sign of a white van. Seeing none, I entered the hospital and asked the person at the reception area which room Doc was recuperating in.

  Doc looked like he was sleeping when I walked into his room. There was a maze of IV’s and drainage tubes in his body, but seemed to be very restful, propped up on some hospital pillows. I stood next to his bed looking at his chest area, my curiosity getting the best of me.

  “If you’re here to give me a kiss to go along with that hug, I’ll throw my piss bottle at you! Doc said without opening his eyes.

  “I suppose you’re a psychic now that you’ve had a near death experience, you old buzzard.” I replied laughing.

  “Not really. I saw you in the hallway before you came into the room. I thought if you saw me sleeping I could escape another one of those hugs you sent in
with the nurse. Damned if she didn’t give it to me, too!”

  “Well Doc, I guess you’re well on your way to a full recovery. If you’re strong enough to throw a urine bottle, then you must be on the mend.”

  Both of us laughed a little, although laughing caused doc to go into a coughing spasm and I knew from the grimace on his face he was in lot of pain.

  “So, ... what the hell happened in your office? I asked.

  “Damned if I know, Ron. One minute I was alone, and then this guy comes walking into the office, winks at me and then lets me have it! Next thing I know, I’m lying in a bed in the ICU after they took two slugs out of my chest!”

  “Well, I’m not sure if anyone else has brought you up to date, but we believe the guy who shot you was named Christopher Bradford.”

  “What do you mean, was?” Doc asked, picking up my use of the past tense.

  “Christopher Bradford was killed two days ago over at the Baker Building. He was involved in the murders of the five girls we found at Meadow Pond. We believe he’s also responsible for the first abduction of Marty McMaster.”

  Doc attempted to sit a little higher in his bed. “What the hell. What do you mean the “first” abduction? What the Christ is goin’ on here, anyway?”

  “We believe Bradford was killed by Marty McMaster as she stood at the top of the cellar stairs in the Baker Building – where she was being held in a basement room. Looks like Bradford was bringing her upstairs when it happened. We theorize that she stuck a ball point pen into his head through the eyeball causing him to fall down the stairs. When we arrived we found Bradford dead at the bottom of the stairs but no Marty. Since she has not turned up anywhere, we believe Bradford’s brother, Keith, took her prisoner and is hiding out with her somewhere in the area.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me, Ron. Two killers? This is like a T.V. Movie, for God’s sake”

  “Yeah, right now we don’t have too much to go on. We have a description of Keith Willingsby, Bradford’s brother, but not enough information to give us any solid leads.

  Kim and Derek are out at the state hospital in Westborough following a hunch. If they come up empty, we are right back at square one trying to find this guy. Hey, by the looks of those tubes and bandages, it looks like you just missed cashing in your ticket to see the guy at the Pearly Gates.”

  “At my age, who the hell would miss me?” doc replied.

  “I would Dad.” Doc’s daughter Bonnie said as she walked into the room. “Hi, Chief Kosciak, it’s nice to see you again. I don’t think I’ve seen you since I moved out to California.”

  “You’re right, Bonnie, it has been a long time. Nice to see you again, too. How have you been?”

  “I’m good except for my father getting shot in a hospital morgue. Just goes to show you, you’re not safe anywhere these days. I could understand getting shot during a robbery at a store or something, but in a freakin’ morgue? Give me a break!” she said a little frustrated with the recent events.

  “Bonnie, I know what you’re saying. Believe me, I see a lot stranger things going on today than I saw ten years ago. The neighborhoods are changing a lot, and the people out there today don’t play by any rules. Unfortunately, your dad met one of those people in his office the other day and ended up here.”

  “Hey, you two. I AM still here, ya know!” Doc said his stomach rumbling a little as he spoke.

  “Believe me, Doc, we know you’re still here. You won’t let us forget it!” I laughed with Bonnie as we turned our attentions back to Doc.

  The one thing I chose not to talk Doc about was Jerry’s death. I thought it might be too soon for him to learn about Jerry being shot and killed. To my surprise, Doc was the one who broached the subject.

  “Ron, it really bothers me Jerry was shot and killed the same day I was attacked in my office.” He countered my expression with, “Yeah, I know, you didn’t want me to know yet, but this is a hospital, and the staff let me know once I was moved up to this room. I’m thankful they did. Jerry was a good man, Ron. I’ll miss him a lot. I understand his wake is tonight. Please, tell Michael and Jerry’s family I send my regards to all of them.”

  “Don’t worry, Doc.” I’ll pass on your sympathies to everyone. Listen, I have to get going. I want to stop out at the state hospital to check on Kim and Derek on my way home. I need to get cleaned up before Jerry’s and Christine’s services. Take care, ole’ friend. I’m glad you’re going to be alright. Bonnie, again, it was nice to see you. Take care of your old man, and I hope to see you before you return to California.”

  As I walked toward the door Doc yelled out, “Thanks for not tryin’ to give me that kiss!”

  I waved an acknowledgment to Doc’s remark over my shoulder and, smiled knowing my friend would be O.K.

  62

  Kim and Derek arrived at the state hospital around two-thirty in the afternoon. It was below thirty degrees. The sky was an overcast, wintery, gray blanket allowing no sunshine through to warm the two police officers. Derek suggested that they stay together during their search just in case they did run into Willingsby. Kim agreed, remembering what each of the dead girls looked like after their ordeals, wanting every asset she could muster on her side should there be a confrontation.

  They began their search in the main building. It was eight stories high, and most of the rooms and offices were vacant. This building was home to the three satellite programs providing services for mentally challenged patients living in adjacent communities. These were all outpatient programs, but today being a Saturday, no one was here. The building being vacant allowed Derek and Kim the opportunity to search uninterrupted. Deciding to start on the top floor and work their way down, they spent the next two hours methodically searching every room, closet, office, nook, cranny and cubby-hole before finding themselves in the basement.

  Kim turned on every light switch as they entered each room, not leaving one shadow for a person to hide in and surprise them during their search. Derek was walking ahead of Kim in the cellar hallway. Kim turned to look back over her shoulder, making sure Keith was not sneaking up behind them. As she peered intently down the long, cellar hallway, Derek bumped a metal cleaning bucket sending it rolling down the floor. Kim, turning quickly, brought her 9 mm up and pointed it down the still unlit hallway to see Derek recovering from his tumble.

  “What the hell, Derek! You wanna get yourself shot? You scared the shit outta me!”

  Kim blared out as she pulled her 9mm upward against her shoulder, pointing the barrel at the ceiling.

  “Jesus, Kim, I’m sorry. It’s not like I planned to trip over the friggin’ bucket! I scared myself, for Christ’s sake! This isn’t the nicest place I’ve ever been in. It gives me the creeps. Who knows what happened down here when this place was open? Do you believe in ghosts?”

  “Okay, I’ll let you off this time, but DON’T do that again! Let’s get moving.” she said taking the lead and turning on more lights as they went. “By the way, I do believe in ghosts, and this is definitely a place where we might run into a few!”

  They spent the next half hour completing their search of the main building. Other than a few dead mice still caught in the springs and trip-wires of wooden traps, they did not see any other signs of occupancy, other than the three rooms on the first floor.

  The next building on their list, and the second largest on the site, was one of the dormitories that used to house one hundred and fifty patients when it was at full capacity. The four floors each had exits and entrances from stairways on each end of the building as well as the entrance and exit in the front. Forty-five minutes later they were coming out of the building as I drove up to check on their progress. Driving up the road between the two structures, I opened my window as Kim walked over to the side of the Explorer.

  “Hey, Chief.”

  “Any luck?” I asked.

  “No
t a damned thing: We found three dead mice and one cantankerous bucket,” she replied, choosing not to explain the cantankerous bucket comment. I let the comment go, curious, but not wanting to press the issue.

  “We’ve searched the main building and this dorm so far. We probably won’t get to search all of the buildings today, unless you want to assign people round the clock.”

  I sat for a minute thinking about what I wanted to do.

  “Tell you what Kim, you and Derek continue to search as many buildings as you can, and I’ll be back after I stop at the services for Jerry and Christine. I should be back here about nine, nine thirty. I’ll see if Ken Garber can send over a couple of his people to help us out before I come back. I’d like to keep this search going until we have searched every building on site.”

  “Can you do us one favor, Chief? Kim asked. “Could you bring us back a couple of coffees on your way back? We should have stopped on the way over here, but neither of us thought about it until we were half way through searching the first building.”

  “I’ll do better than that, Kim. I’ll go get coffees right now before I go to the services. The services don’t begin for another hour and a half, and I don’t want my officers telling people that I don’t take care of them.”

  Kim looked at me like she had a smart reply, but decided to keep it to herself. Being the Chief does have its privileges – sometimes.