An Apple for Zoë ~ The Forsaken Read Free Page A

fog gave the street a look of 1880's London. Slowly appearing from out of the mist, Tommy could see the stocky figure of a man lumbering into the glow of the streetlight. The man stopped for a moment at the corner and seemed to be looking at his watch. He turned and began walking south up Maple Street disappearing from Tommy's view. It was 9:00 p.m .  

    *
    Sitting at his desk, staring out the window at the fog enshrouded San Francisco skyline, Detective Thomas James' thoughts returned to the present as his daydream was broken by the soft calming voice of fellow detective and best friend Michael Kirkland.  
    "I heard you got a suicide note on this one, Tom."  
    "No Mike, it's definitely not a suicide note, but it most certainly is disturbing."
    James's comment peaked Kirkland's interest, he found a chair and sat opposite of his best friend.  
    "What do you mean?" asked Kirkland.  
    James leaned in as if it would make the conversation more private. "I've seen a lot of weird crime scenes in my day, you know this city we get it all, but this one was downright scary."
    "Scary? In what way?"  
    "It wasn't just the fact we had a double homicide, but it was everything, right down to the kinky little details. This guy didn't just murder two people, it was the way he killed them. Choosing a funeral home for a start."  
    "Not your typical crime scene, but not out of place to bring a dead body," commented Kirkland.
    "That's where things begin to get scary, Mike. Amanda Carlyle wasn't dead when the killer brought her there."
    "He killed her inside the funeral home?"  
    "Killed her, bathed her, dressed her, and even took the time to do her hair and make up."  
    Kirkland shivered as he sat silently trying to absorb James' story.
    "The frustrating thing is that there are far more questions than there are clues," lamented James.
    "That's par for the course, so tell me what you do know for sure."
    James slid the case file across the desk to Kirkland.
    "At 11:00 p.m. last night Amanda Carlyle was out with a girlfriend. They were both seen at The Cellar nightclub on Sutter Street. She and her girlfriend got into an argument with another couple of girls and the bouncer kicked Amanda and her friend out. According to the friend, she left Amanda at the parking garage next to Pier 39. That was the last time she saw her."
    "So who's this friend?" asked Kirkland.
    "Valerie Rivera. We're still trying to catch up with her and check her alibi."  
    James gave Kirkland a concerned look. "Trouble is Mike, there's something else. Something that's even more freaky then this whole crime scene." Kirkland sat the file down to listen.  
    "So we found a note on Amanda. It's like a confession, and written in what appears to be a child's handwriting. It's signed by someone claiming to be Edmund Frayker."
    "So you checked out the name right?" asked Kirkland.
    "Oh yeah, I checked it out alright. Edmund Frayker was killed in a fire in England 1888. Or so people say. Based on the research I did, some people think the fire was just a ruse to get people to believe he had died. He was also a Jack the Ripper suspect, and London continued to suffer a string of prostitute murders well into 1892, Scotland Yard just kept it quiet."  
    "Sounds like your killer likes playing games.   Do you think this guy is pretending to be Edmund Frayker and is going after prostitutes, Tom?" James shrugged.  
    "Because, this girl doesn't fit the prostitute category, she's young, attractive, comes from a decent background," continued Kirkland.
    "So did half the girls in the Manson Family, Mike. So far I can't find any evidence that tells me she was into drugs, or that she was a high price call girl, yet on top of her weird murder, we got this guy in the closet hung and bound with barbwire. And I can't link him to Amanda," said James.
    "And there was no identification on him, I take it?"
    James shook his head no and handed Kirkland the note from the lapel of the dead man.
    "Just