The Red Mohawk Read online

  ‘It’s the last door on the left,’ Justin said. ‘This way. Sorry it’s a bit dark, but some of the lights are out up here.’

  ‘No shit,’ said Munson.

  Justin pulled a large set of keys from his trouser pocket as he led the two investigators along the corridor. He stopped at the last door on the left and flicked through his keys until he found the right one. He unlocked the door and pushed it open.

  ‘There you go,’ he said, stepping back out of the way.

  Munson walked in first to get a good look. Fonseca followed. There wasn’t much to see. It was a very basic single bedroom, more like a prison cell than a living quarters. In the corner was an open door that led into a washroom the size of a cupboard, which consisted of a very standard toilet and a small washbasin. The walls were painted pale blue, as was the floor and the ceiling. Where every other part of the building had been plain grey stone, finally they had found an area with a lick of paint.

  ‘Not exactly five star is it?’ Fonseca observed out loud.

  ‘It’s not supposed to be,’ said Justin poking his head around the door.

  Munson absorbed the characteristics of the room in a matter of seconds. There was no visible way of escaping. No windows, no air vents, no grill in the floor. Nothing. And it smelled really bad. He took a second stab at getting some information from Justin. ‘So, seriously, how did Joey Conrad escape from this place? If this was really his room then he sure had a long way to travel to get out of the building.’

  Justin nodded in agreement. ‘Well yeah, but from what we can tell he just walked right out the front door.’

  ‘Walked right out the front door?’ Munson repeated aloud.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Walked? Literally just walked out the front door?’

  Justin shrugged. ‘I guess. I mean I didn’t see it. I wasn’t on duty when it happened. Maybe he waltzed out. Or moonwalked. Your guess is as good as mine.’

  Maybe it was Justin’s attitude, or maybe it was just because the air in Joey Conrad’s room was a little stale, or maybe it was because Munson was desperate for a swig of rum, but whatever the reason was, he’d decided he didn’t like Justin much. The guy was irritating.

  ‘Okay,’ said Munson. ‘So Joey Conrad moonwalked out of here the other night. Explain to me how no one noticed him and nothing he did set off an alarm.’

  ‘Like I said before, our security is crap.’

  Munson took a long hard look at Justin, studying his face to try to gauge if he had something to hide. It didn’t look that way. He was probably just a smartass. ‘Fine. So the security is crap. Can you elaborate on that for me please?’ he probed, challenging the nurse to back up his claim. ‘Is it lack of numbers? Poor training? What? Why is security so crap?’

  Justin took a deep breath and let out a sigh before replying. ‘The asylum doesn’t pay well and consequently we have some of the most inept security guards you will ever encounter. It’s not usually a problem, because for all their faults they’re usually slightly cleverer than the patients.’

  ‘But not in this case?’

  ‘Well, I’m no doctor or psychiatrist, Mr Munson but I’d say this, Joey Conrad, although very strange and occasionally very violent, he’s no dribbling idiot.’

  ‘Did you speak to him much?’

  ‘All the time.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And nothing. He never replied. I don’t think he liked me.’

  ‘That’s a surprise,’ said Munson under his breath.

  Fonseca picked her moment to intervene. ‘Mind if we have a look through his things?’ she asked.

  ‘Be my guest.’

  Fonseca walked over to a small chest of drawers beside the bed and pulled open the top drawer. Munson continued to interrogate Justin. ‘Did he have any hobbies or anything that set him apart from the others?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Justin replied. He pointed to a portable television that was nailed to the wall in the corner of the room. ‘I think he likes movies though. He’s one of those who’s got his own television and a DVD player. And as far as I know he can operate them just fine on his own.’

  There was a shelf on the wall next to the television. It had a row of DVD’s stacked upright on it. Munson walked over to get a closer look at them. He ran his finger along the spines of the cases reading the titles as he went. ‘That’s a pretty odd selection of films for a grown man isn’t it?’ he commented when he came to the end of the stack.

  ‘Hospital policy,’ Justin replied. ‘We don’t let them have anything unsuitable, like violent or sexy stuff.’

  Behind them, Fonseca asked a question. ‘Is this his only book?’ Munson looked around. She was pointing at a thick red hardback book she had pulled out of the drawer on the bedside table.

  ‘What is it?’ Munson asked.

  Fonseca pulled a pair of black-rimmed spectacles out of her breast pocket. She slipped them on and opened the book. ‘It’s the bible,’ she said.

  ‘Oh. Boring.’

  ‘As far as I know that is his only book,’ said Justin. ‘He’s not much of a reader.’

  Munson turned back to take a closer look at the DVD’s. They were all family films. He picked one out and read the back cover. ‘This is enough to drive anyone crazy,’ he commented.

  Fonseca looked up. ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  ‘High School Musical. He seriously watches this?’

  Justin shrugged. ‘I don’t even know where they get the DVD’s from.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘DVD’s, cigarettes, all that kind of stuff. Someone smuggles it in for the patients.’

  ‘And nobody confiscates any of it?’ Munson asked, failing to mask his disgust at the apparent lack of discipline in the asylum.

  ‘Like I said, security is pretty slack round here.’

  ‘Actually, you said crap.’

  ‘Crap, slack, there are many ways to describe it. Thing is, if a patient wants to watch High School Musical, it ain’t hurting nobody.’

  Munson opened the DVD case and looked inside. ‘What if it’s not High School Musical?’ he said holding it up so that Fonseca could see it.

  Fonseca peered over her glasses at him. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Last action Hero.’

  Justin frowned. ‘What’s wrong with Last Action Hero?’

  ‘It’s a terrible film.’

  Munson closed the DVD case and put it back. He picked out the next DVD along. It was a copy of The Incredible Journey. He flipped it open and took a peek at what was inside, then replaced it and picked up another. He checked inside all six of the DVD’s on the shelf. None of them contained the correct disc.

  ‘Anything interesting there?’ asked Fonseca.

  ‘Yeah. As well as Last Action Hero, he’s got Three Amigos and Galaxy Quest.’

  ‘Any significance to that?’ she asked.

  ‘Ever seen any of those films?’

  ‘I think I saw Last Action Hero once, years ago.’

  ‘Shit isn’t it?’

  ‘Actually I quite liked it.’

  Munson resisted the urge to continue arguing about the quality of the film. ‘Well all three of these films have the same plot.’

  Fonseca looked puzzled. ‘How so?’

  ‘Galaxy Quest. Basically the cast of a Star Trek type show end up in outer space for real, playing the parts of their characters trying to defeat aliens and shit. In Three Amigos, three actors from a TV western end up in the Wild West taking on a real gang of Mexican bandits. And The Last Action Hero was some character that came out of a movie and into the real world.’

  Fonseca still looked confused. ‘How is this relevant?’

  ‘Relevant?’ said Munson. ‘To what?’

  ‘To the Joey Conrad case?’

  ‘Oh. It’s not. I’m just trying to show you that I know a lot about movies.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I know a lot about movies.’ He noticed that Fonseca now lo
oked completely bewildered, and not amused. ‘Also, it might give us some insight into the mental state of Joey Conrad.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I don’t know yet.’

  ‘So it is just about showing me that you know a lot about movies?’

  ‘Mostly, yeah. Hey, I’ve been out of the office for a long time. I miss the banter.’

  ‘Fine. Are we done?’ asked Fonseca.

  ‘Actually no,’ said Munson. ‘There are six DVD’s here. I’ve only told you about three of them.’

  ‘Seriously? You’re still going with this?’

  ‘The other three are more interesting,’ said Munson.

  ‘They’d better be.’

  He pointed at the last three DVD’s on the shelf. They were cases for The Goonies, The Wizard of Oz and Finding Nemo. ‘Inside these three he’s got the films Halloween, The Terminator and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.’

  Justin’s cheeks burned red. ‘I had no idea he had those,’ he said.

  Munson ignored him and nodded at the book Fonseca was holding. ‘Is that really The Bible? Or is it just a bible cover wrapped around a book about the Manson family?’

  Fonseca shook her head. ‘Nah,’ it’s just a bible,’ she said, flicking through a few pages to make sure.

  Munson slapped Justin gently on the back. ‘How long did you say Dr Carter was going to be?’

  ‘About half an hour I think,’ Justin replied.

  ‘Go and get her now.’

  ‘She’s kind of busy.’

  Munson raised his voice a notch. ‘Go and get her now so that Agent Fonseca and I can talk about you behind your back.’

  Justin swallowed hard and blushed a little more. ‘I’ll see if I can find her.’

  ‘Don’t see if you can find her,’ said Munson. ‘Go and get her. Now!’

  Justin turned on his heels and hurried out of the room. Munson looked at Fonseca. ‘I’m no shrink,’ he said. ‘But Joey Conrad is running around B Movie Hell in a mask slicing people up with a meat cleaver. I’d say some of these films have had an influence on him, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I guess so. I’m not much of a movie fan though in case you hadn’t guessed. I’m more into books myself. And I think he was influenced by this one.’

  Munson looked at the book in Fonseca’s hand. ‘The Bible? How so?’

  Fonseca turned the book around and held it open for Munson to see. ‘There’s one passage underlined here,’ she said. ‘It’s a meaningful one.’

  Munson put the DVD’s down on the shelf, walked over to her and grabbed the book out of her hand. Halfway down one of the pages was a passage underlined in red. It was Jeremiah 31:15

  Thus says the Lord: “A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping. Rachel is weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted for her children, because they are no more.”

  When he’d finished reading it he frowned at Fonseca. ‘Okay, that means nothing to me,’ he said.

  ‘Lucky for you I know a lot about books,’ said Fonseca, ‘especially this one. The passage he has underlined could be very significant.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Some people believe that it’s a prophecy.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘The slaughter of the innocents.’

  Thirteen

  Candy backed through the strip PVC curtain and into the kitchen, put her head down and ran for her life. She didn’t get far. After two blindly taken strides her head crashed into Reg’s chest. She looked up, her heart racing. Even the sight of her boss made her jump with fright. Reg for his part looked confused. But much to her relief he was carrying his hunting rifle in his right hand. And he’d removed his ridiculously oversized chef’s hat.

  ‘What the fuck is all that noise about?’ he asked.

  ‘He’s gone crazy!’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Who do you think? The guy I was telling you about, the one in the red jacket. He put the mask on and started killing people. We gotta get out of here!’

  Candy attempted to run around Reg to head for the back door. He grabbed a hold of her arm and stopped her in her tracks.

  ‘Is he still out there?’

  ‘He’s chopping people up with a meat cleaver. He cut Arnold’s hand off!’

  ‘Big Arnold?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Over the sound of the jukebox they both heard a loud scream. It was high pitched, but not enough to be feminine.

  ‘What the fuck was that?’ Reg asked.

  ‘Arnold I think. The guy dragged him into the men’s room.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘How should I know?’

  ‘Fuck it,’ Reg grumbled softly. He took a deep breath and made a tentative step towards the dining area.

  ‘Did you call the cops?’ Candy asked.

  ‘No, I went and grabbed my rifle. I wanted to see the guy for myself first.’

  Reg poked his head through the PVC strip curtain and took a look around the dining area.

  ‘Is he still there?’ Candy asked.

  Reg reeled his neck in and turned to face her. ‘There’s a girl just run out through the front door,’ he said. ‘Was she with Arnold?’

  ‘Was she wearing jeans and a grey sweatshirt?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Candy nodded. ‘Then yeah, she was with him.’

  Reg frowned. ‘Shit. And you think the guy in the mask is still in the washroom with Arnold?’

  ‘With what’s left of him. Come on let’s get the hell out of here before he comes back out!’

  ‘Fuck that,’ said Reg. ‘You call the cops. I’ll deal with this fucker.’

  ‘Shhh!’ Candy grabbed a hold of Reg’s vest and yanked him back away from the strip curtain. ‘I think I heard the door. He’s coming back out,’ she whispered.

  Positioning herself to the side of the curtain where she hoped she couldn’t be seen, she peered through it and watched the masked killer walk back out of the washroom. He stepped over the dead bodies of Skidmark and Termite. Then he stopped and stared out of the windows at the front of the diner. The girl who had come in with Arnold was running across the highway towards the open field on the other side. He watched her for a while, but after a few moments he seemed to get the sense that he was being watched and he turned his head towards the kitchen area. Candy didn’t need to tug at Reg’s undershirt this time. Like her he jumped back out of sight so he couldn’t be seen through the curtain.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Candy whispered.

  The Gogol Bordello song playing on the jukebox came to an abrupt end, leaving them in silence for the first time since the carnage had begun. Candy whispered again, even quieter than before. ‘What are you going to do?’

  Reg snapped open his rifle as quietly as he could. He reached into a pocket on his sweatpants and pulled out a cartridge to load into it, his finger trembling with nerves.

  ‘Are you gonna shoot him?’

  ‘No I’m gonna throw the rifle at him,’ Reg whispered back sarcastically.

  ‘I was only asking.’

  Reg snapped his rifle shut. ‘Is he still there?’

  Candy stuck her neck out to see if the masked killer was still visible through a small gap in the curtain strips. There was no sign of him. She heard the sound of the front door gently closing. Hoping that it was a sign the killer had left she took a few tentative steps towards the curtain. ‘I think he’s gone,’ she whispered, beckoning Reg to follow her.

  With no new song coming on the jukebox there was nothing to be heard from the dining area at all. As Candy edged closer to the strip curtain she heard the sound of a car engine starting up outside. She poked her head right through the curtain. Through the window at the front of the diner she saw the yellow stock car with the red stripe had started up. The masked killer was sat behind the steering wheel.

  ‘He’s going!’ she whispered, much louder this time. ‘Quick! Now’s your chance.’

  Reg barged past her and out into
the dining area. ‘Call Chief O’Grady,’ he ordered. ‘Now!’

  Candy turned and dashed over to the phone on the wall in the far corner of the kitchen. She picked up the receiver and dialled 9-1-1, all the while straining her neck to see if she could make out what was happening through the gaps in the curtain. Reg had vanished and judging by the sounds of the screeching tyres, the Red Mohawk was reversing onto the highway to make his getaway. She barely noticed the dialling tone kick in on the phone, but she definitely heard a noise from outside. A loud crack. It made her jump. She recognised the sound. It meant that Reg had fired off a shot from his rifle. It echoed loudly even though it came from outside.

  Through the sound of the echo she caught the end of a greeting on the other end of the phone. ‘What service do you require?’

  ‘Police please.’

  ‘Connecting you now.’

  The line went quiet again. Outside Reg fired off another shot from his rifle. This time as well as a loud echo, Candy heard him cursing at something.

  A woman’s voice spoke out on the other end of the phone. ‘B Movie Hell Police, can I help you?’

  ‘Hi yes, this is…..’

  Before Candy could finish her sentence she heard a police siren outside. She took a few steps back towards the kitchen area, stretching the telephone cord as far as it would go. A police car, with its siren blaring and blue and red lights flashing, raced past the front of the diner. It was followed by the sound of another gunshot blaring out from Reg’s rifle. Candy put the phone back to her ear.

  ‘Hi, sorry about that,’ she said. ‘I’m calling about a murder at the Alaska Roadside Diner, but a police car has just flown past. I think you guys are already on it.’

  ‘Is that Candy?’

  Candy recognised the other woman’s voice. ‘Yeah, Lucinda, hi. We just had that masked madman in here. He killed at least three people…. I think.’

  ‘Stay calm Candy. We’ve got a few cars headed your way right now. And at least one car is already in pursuit of the suspect. He won’t get far. We’ll get him this time.’