Midnight Rambler

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

The door to Skell's suite was unlocked. So as not to taint the crime scene, I twisted the knob using my shirttail, then used my shoe to open the door.

I stuck my head into the darkened space. So did my dog, who'd climbed out of the 4Runner to join me.

The living room had its shades drawn, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. The sounds of a man's tortured breathing filled the void and painted pictures in the dark too gruesome to describe. I opened the door all the way and let sunlight flood the room.

A hazy cloud of cigarette smoke hung lifelessly in the air, as did the sweet smell of champagne. I drew my Colt as I stepped inside.

“Ahhh.”

The voice was muffled. My eyes scanned the room's interior. Leonard Snook sat in the corner, tied to a chair with a bedsheet. A sock was stuck in his mouth, and his face was turning a violent shade of blue. He had also soiled himself.

“How's the book coming?” I asked.

“Uhhh.”

“I should let you die, you know that.”

“Ahhh.”

I pulled the sock out of his mouth, and Snook sucked down air.

“Tell me what happened,” I said.

Snook began to weep. The shock was so great he could not speak. I kicked the leg of the chair with my foot. The jolt made him sit upright.

“Start talking,” I said.

“He made me watch,” the attorney sobbed.

“Did he kill them in front of you?”

Snook shut his eyes, forcing out tears.

“Yes.”

“The FBI was listening to the room,” I said. “You had to know that. Why didn't you scream for help?”

“He said if I screamed, he'd kill me.”

“You're a coward,” I said.

“Untie me, please.”

I heard Buster whining. He was standing at the bedroom door with his hackles up. I left Snook and went to the door. It was closed, and I covered my hand with my shirttail before twisting the knob. Then I went in.

The bedroom was dark, and I flicked on the lights as I entered. A man lay on the bed in his underwear. The left side of his head was crushed in, and his throat was slit from ear to ear. His eyes were wide open, as was his mouth. I looked at the recognizable portion of his face and decided it was Chase Winters.

A broken champagne bottle lay beside Winters's body. I guessed that Skell had killed him while celebrating, then stolen his clothes. The wounds Skell had inflicted were so severe that Winters had bled out, and I pulled my dog back so he didn't step in it.

I made Buster sit in the corner, then noticed several loose sheets of paper lying on the floor beside the bed. I picked one up without bothering to cover my hand. It was the cover page to a movie contract with Paramount Pictures for a film based on the life of Simon Skell. The working title was Midnight Rambler.

My dog let out a pitiful whine. He could smell the death and despair and pure evil that had inhabited the room. I looked around the room for Lorna Sue Mutter. She wasn't in the closet or stuffed beneath the bed. I noticed a sliver of light streaming out from beneath the bathroom door. I crossed the room and knocked gently on the door.

“Lorna Sue?”

Nothing. I tapped again.

“Are you in there?”

Still nothing. I wanted to believe she might still be alive, even though I felt certain she wasn't. Despite our run-in outside the police station, I did not hate her. She had found it within her heart to love a monster. If more people had done that with Skell, he might not have become the person he was.

“I'm coming in.”

My body pressed against the bathroom door, and I heard it click open. I pushed the door open a few inches, and Buster pushed it open a few more.

The bathroom was large and contained a shower stall and a tub. The sink was filled with clippings from Skell's beard. On the floor I spied a bloody cotton ball, which Skell had used to pierce his own ear.

Lorna Sue Mutter lay in the tub, submerged in water. She was faceup, and her big hair floated in the water like a dead animal.

Like Winters, her eyes and mouth were wide open. I'd heard it said that death was the ultimate aphrodisiac, but the look on Lorna Sue's face told me otherwise. It was the look of betrayal, and love gone horribly bad.