The Devil's Water: Scenic City Murder Series #1 (11 page)

“Here you go, sir.” The waitress said as she approached the table and handed Gamblin his drink. Hank took it from her and swirled the Kentucky Bourbon around in the glass before taking a sip. “Are you ready to order?” she asked both men.

“Yes ma’am. I’m ready.” Hank said smiling up at the waitress. “You first, though.” He said to Vicelli.

“I’m not really that hungry.” Vicelli said to the waitress. “You go ahead, though.” He directed back at Gamblin. Martin Vicelli really wasn’t that hungry. His stomach was doing flip flops.

“Well, I’ll have the Chilean Sea Bass.” Gamblin told the waitress.

As she hustled off to turn in the order, Gamblin focused his attention back to the man sitting directly in front of him. He narrowed his eyes once more and Vicelli felt like he was sitting in front of an inquisitor. Gamblin picked up his glass and swirled the booze around in it one more time before taking a sip. He examined his ice cubes before finally glancing back up. He was looking Martin Vicelli dead in the eyes. “Here’s the thing. I really don’t know how you can help me anymore than you already have.” He stated. “I’m already a bit of a local hero because of this whole mess. My name is out there. Hell, I’ve even gotten some job offers that sound much more enticing than what I do now.”

“Yes, but this new information is very juicy.” Martin responded. He could feel his upper lip getting wet again.

“Well, I can’t imagine what it is. I don’t even know that I want to. I mean, we know Gary Berndt is the killer. We know what kind of car he drives, where he lived and how he got here. We know that he started doing this as a young adult with animals. We’ve even seen a picture of the guy and posted it in the Times. Skopic held a press conference, remember? The only thing we don’t know is where he took that whore from Rossville Boulevard. Other than that, what more do we need to know?”

Martin could feel beads of sweat popping up on his forehead. He took his white linen napkin and wiped it across his face. “Is it hot in here or are you just nervous?” Gamblin asked.

“Just nervous, I guess. I mean, I really shouldn’t give you this information and I’m afraid it might get back that I was leaking information to you.” Vicelli lied.

“Alright. What is it?” Gamblin asked as the waitress returned with his order.  He laid his napkin in his lap and reached over, grabbing the fork which sat beside his plate.

“Gary Berndt is impotent.” Vicelli blurted out.

Hank Gamblin laid the fork back down and looked away from his sea bass bringing his eyes to rest on Vicelli once more. He leaned back in his chair and was completely silent for several seconds. “Well how the hell do you explain that?” he finally asked.

“Investigators believe that Berndt had been raping the women with other things…you know.”

“You mean things other than his penis?”

“Yes. Sexual devices. You know, dildos or something like that.”

“And what brings them to that conclusion?” Gamblin asked as he picked up his fork again and cut into his entrée.

“Well, he had been mutilating some of the women’s genitalia and it’s believed that he had been doing this out of sexual frustration because he was unable to penetrate a woman.” Vicelli said. He was actually quite proud that he was able to embellish the tale somewhat.

Gamblin took a bite of his food and chewed on it a full fifteen seconds before swallowing. He glanced back at Vicelli. “One word, Martin.”

“What’s that?”

“Viagra. Another word is Cialis. There’s enough boner pills out there now to keep the world’s men erect for the next three years.”

“Yes, but some people can’t take them due to health reasons. We believe that Berndt was one of those people.” Vicelli responded almost automatically. He was getting pretty good at this if only his upper lip would stop sweating. He wiped the linen napkin across his face once more.

“Well…” Gamblin started, washing another bite of his dinner down with Woodford Reserve. “There might actually be a story in that. A big story.” He sat back in his chair once more and rubbed both hands across his stomach. “Question is, why do they want to keep that story secret?”

“Well, it’s sensitive information. The department believes that the story might incite rage in Berndt and put Flo Jenson or others in grave danger.”

Smiling, Hank Gamblin looked up at the dim lights of the restaurant before returning his eyes back to Vicelli. “Let’s see… no. I can’t come to a determination how that would qualify as my fucking problem. So what another prostitute dies in this town. It’s a, shall we say, occupational hazard.” He chuckled taking a sip of bourbon again.

At that very moment, Vicelli became all too aware that he’d been playing for the wrong team. The good guys were sitting in the other dugout. It didn’t seem to bother Gamblin at all that his sensational story might cost the life of at least one, maybe more, women. Gamblin had no idea that this was all a part of the plan. He just thought that he might able to get a lot of publicity for this information. Martin Vicelli had made some bad choices but he did have a moral compass. It was clear, however, that Hank Gamblin had none. He didn’t give a flying fuck about anything other than moving his career along.

“I think I can use this.” Hank said snapping Vicelli back into reality. “I think this will go out in a day or two. It’s too good to sit on.”

“Good.” Vicelli answered. He threw a five on the table and stood up. “I do apologize but I need to run. If I hear anything else, I’ll be sure to let you know.” He said as he shook Gamblin’s hand.

“You do that.”

Vicelli threw open the door of the Bonefish Grille and made his way to his car. He felt slimy and dirty. The first thing he would do when he got home would be to take a good hot shower and apply lots of soap.

CHAPTER 24

The hospital sat in the middle of downtown Chattanooga. It was a massive structure that was many stories high and looked enormous jutting into the clear blue fall sky. Tasha Yoder opened the lobby door and tried to gather her courage. She had been dreading this ever since the night before when Clutch had called her and urged her to go. Hospitals weren’t one of Tasha’s favorite places to hang out. They reminded her of Momma and of death and of a lot of different things that Tasha would just as soon not think about. Nevertheless, she walked to the front desk and asked where she might find Carol Shipley. “She’s on the third floor. Room 326. ICU.” Answered the receptionist who had a sour expression on her face and looked like she didn’t want to be there either. “Thank you” Tasha walked across the lobby to the big silver doors of the elevator and pressed the ‘up’ button. Several seconds later, the doors opened and Tasha stepped in. She pressed the ‘3’ button and waited for the doors to close. She had absolutely no idea what to expect. Clutch had told Carol’s father that she would be visiting. As luck would have it, Clutch couldn’t come along with her because he had a previous commitment. Tasha really wished that Clutch had made sure his schedule was clear before roping her in on this.
Dammit!
The doors opened and Tasha found herself looking down a very long hallway. The white floors gleamed from the florescent lights hanging above. She could hear the sound of jovial chatter from somewhere up ahead. She began walking down the hall and noticed a nurses’ station off to the right. That was where the lively conversation was taking place. Two nurses were sitting behind a desk talking about their plans for the weekend. “Excuse me.” Tasha said, trying to get their attention. One of the nurses turned toward her. “Yes?”

“I am trying to find the ICU waiting room.”

“Right down the hall and to the left.” The nurse said before turning back to the conversation she was having.

Tasha started down the long corridor again and noticed a black sign hanging from the ceiling. “ICU Waiting Room” it said with an arrow pointing to the left. Tasha opened the glass door and saw a lone man standing looking out of the window at the blue sky above. He turned to look at her as she walked in.

“Are you Mr. Shipley?” she asked him.

He smiled and started walking toward her. When he got close enough, he offered her his hand. She took it and noticed that he had a very gentle grip.

“Yes I am. Are you that FBI agent? The cop told me about you. He said you’d be coming to see us. I’m Buck Shipley”

“My name is Tasha Yoder. I’m here to ask you some questions but, I have to tell you, I’m not with the FBI. I used to be but came back home. I’m from here originally.”

The man softened a bit and his lips parted in a genuine grin. Tasha noticed his very white teeth. He was definitely a non-smoker and probably didn’t even drink coffee with teeth that white.

“Well, that makes me feel a little better. I wasn’t sure how to talk to the feds about this. Outsiders, you know.”

Tasha understood his feelings on the subject. As a federal agent, she had to deal with that attitude plenty of times. She knew that people can be extremely emotional after something like this and they certainly don’t want to open up to folks that they perceive as strangers.

“I understand.” Tasha said and gave him the best reassuring look she could muster. “Now, from what I gathered, you’ve talked with detective Wilder about this. He said that you’d never heard the name Gary Berndt until now.”

“Never. Carrie didn’t know him.”

“Are you sure about that? I mean, his picture was in the paper. He didn’t look familiar?”

The man looked down at the floor. He appeared to be studying the linoleum tiles. Suddenly, he raised his head and looked Tasha squarely in the eye. “No. I didn’t recognize him and Carrie never mentioned him. I’m sure he was a stranger to her.”

“Detective Wilder mentioned that you and your wife live in Tuscaloosa now. How long have you lived there?”

“Well, since ’65 or ’66 probably. We’re originally from here but we took Carrie down there and raised her.”

“How in the world did she end up in Chattanooga then?” Tasha asked.

“Well, my wife’s mother lived up here until she died. She would have Carrie come and stay with her in the summer months. She died in ’75 and I think Chattanooga always reminded Carrie of her grandmother. She had made some friends around where her grandmother lived but I’m sure Berndt wasn’t one of them. For one thing, according to the paper, he hadn’t even moved to these parts yet. Carrie’s grandmother was long dead before he even showed up here.”

“So you believe your daughter was just a random victim?”

“Yeah, I do. I think Berndt was after ladies at the Sun Apartments and Carrie was unlucky enough to be one of them.”

Just then, the door to the ICU waiting room opened and a woman wearing a dark blue skirt and white top walked through. She was holding a copy of the Bible in one hand. “Buck, who are you talking to?” she asked as she approached them.

“Sarah, this is Tasha Yoder. She’s the one who was going to come by and talk with us.”   

Tasha extended her hand and Sarah took it. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. I’ve been in the chapel.” Sarah Shipley said as she withdrew her hand and clasped her Bible once more. “I’ve been reading and rereading the Book of Job. Are you familiar with the scripture, Ms. Yoder?”

Tasha shifted from one foot to the other. She tried to maintain a pleasant expression but, quite frankly, talk of the Bible always made her nervous.

“To some degree.” Tasha finally answered hoping that was good enough for Sarah Shipley.

“Job chapter two verse three says: ‘Then the Lord said to Satan, “Have you  considered my servant Job? There is no one on earth like him. He is blameless and upright. A man who fears God and shuns evil. And he still maintains his integrity. Though you incited me against him to ruin him without any reason.” Sarah said, quoting scripture from memory. “Job was a moral man. He was punished though he was without sin. We should all be more like Job.” She finished.

Tasha had been staring at the woman and noticed that her voice tone had gone up almost to the point of sounding shrill. Judging by Buck Shipley’s face, Tasha could tell he was almost as uncomfortable as she was.

“Would you like to see Carrie?” he asked Tasha as he put his arm around his wife and walked her over to a chair beside the huge glass window.

“Very much.”

She watched as Mr. Shipley leaned down and whispered something in his wife’s ear. As he walked away, Sarah Shipley looked back up at Tasha. “Nice to meet you.” She said.

“Same here. We may be seeing each other again sometime.”

As Tasha was walking out the door that Mr. Shipley held open for her, Ms. Shipley called her name.

Turning, she saw that the woman had her Bible opened up ready to read. “Ms. Yoder, I wanted to know one last thing.”
“What’s that?” Tasha asked.

“Are you alright with the Lord?”

Tasha had heard the expression her whole life. She wasn’t sure if it was a southern expression but she figured that it probably was. She was being asked if she had accepted Jesus Christ as her personal Lord and Savior.

“Yes ma’am.” She answered as she stepped out in the hallway.

“Go with God.” Ms. Shipley said in a very loud voice as the waiting room door shut.  

“You’ll have to pardon my wife.” Buck Shipley told Tasha as they moved down the long corridor toward room 326. “She’s always been a deeply religious woman but, after what happened to Carrie, I think she’s become a bit unstable.”

“I understand.” Tasha said as they came to Carol’s hospital room. Buck Shipley twisted the silver knob on the wooden door and opened it. He stepped back and waited for Tasha to enter first. As she walked across the threshold, she noticed a figure lying in a hospital bed surrounded by machines. She could hear the sound of the ventilator. Tasha walked closer and was finally able to partially see Carol’s face. Her head was almost completely covered in gauze wrapping. One eye, which remained uncovered, was sunken and discolored. Tasha glanced down Carol’s body and noticed that her arm was in a cast as well as both legs. Clutch had told her that Carol had taken a bad fall and, Tasha thought, he didn’t exaggerate a damn bit.
We are going to catch this bastard for you, Carol.
She silently swore as she continued looking at the pitiful shape in the bed.