The Night Stalker

One Hundred and Thirteen

Hunter sensed the anguish and pain in Andrew’s voice. Pain that came from deep inside. Something he had been carrying with him for all these years.

‘How do you think my father found out about Mr. Gardner and my mother?’ Andrew asked.

Hunter hadn’t thought of that, but he didn’t need to reflect for long to know the answer.

‘I saw them together one day. I saw them in my parents’ room, in my parents’ bed. I knew what they were doing was wrong. . really wrong.’ A desperate quiver had found its way into Andrew’s voice, the memory still way too vivid in his mind. ‘I didn’t know what to do. Somehow I knew that what my mom was doing would destroy her marriage to my father. I didn’t want that to happen. I wanted them to be happy again. . together.’ He hesitated for an instant.

‘So you told your father,’ Hunter whispered.

‘A week before it all happened. I told him that I saw Nathan Gardner coming into our house one day. That was all I told him, nothing else.’ The hurt in his voice grew stronger. ‘I didn’t know that my father would be capable of. .’ He trailed off.

‘Still not your fault,’ Hunter said again. ‘As you’ve said, you didn’t know your father would react the way he did. Your intention was to save your parents’ marriage, to keep them together. His reaction wasn’t your fault.’

Silence took over for a moment.

‘Do you know what I remember the most about my mother?’ Andrew had moved yet again. ‘She told me that when I was her age I’d find someone just like her — beautiful. . talented. . Someone I could fall in love with.’ He paused for a second. ‘I’ve waited for that birthday for twenty years. For the day that I could finally start choosing my perfect partner.’

Suddenly everything started to make sense to Hunter. They’d been right. The women Andrew Harper kidnapped symbolized a combination of maternal and romantic love. He wanted to fall in love with them, but he also wanted — needed — them to look like his mother. She had told him that when he was thirty, her exact age when she died, he’d find his perfect match, someone just like her. Hunter had checked Andrew’s birth certificate. His birthday was on February 22 — two days before Kelly Jensen, his first kidnap victim, had been taken. Andrew had been searching for his victims for a while, but his subconscious prohibited him from taking any action until his thirtieth birthday. In his fragile mind, his mother’s words were a rule that couldn’t be broken. He had been waiting for that birthday for a very long time. And he’d lost no time when that day arrived. Andrew’s mind had distorted what his mother had said in a way only a severely traumatized mind could.

‘So you found them,’ Hunter said. ‘Women who looked just like your mother. Who were as talented as she was—’

‘No one could ever be as talented as my mother.’ Anger returned to Andrew’s voice.

‘I’m sorry,’ Hunter corrected himself. ‘You found candidates for your love. . and took them from their homes. . studios. . cars. . But you couldn’t fall in love with them, could you?’

Silence.

‘You took them and you held them captive. You watched them in silence every day, just like you did with your mother. But the longer you watched them, the more they reminded you of her, didn’t they? That’s why you couldn’t touch them in a sexual way, or in any other way. You couldn’t hurt them either. But unfortunately the memory of your mother brought back something else.’

Hunter wiped his mouth of the blood.

‘It reminded you of her betrayal to your father’s love,’ he continued. ‘Her betrayal to your love. Her betrayal to your family. And in the end, instead of falling in love, you hated them. You hated them for that betrayal. You hated them for the exact same reason you took them in the first place. For reminding you of your mother.’

Andrew didn’t reply.

‘So just like your father, you allowed rage to take over, and when it did, it took you right back to that day and what you saw him do to your mother.’

Again, no reply, but Hunter sensed anxiety in the air.

‘We found the interviews, Andrew. We found the questions you put to them about true love.’

‘I gave them what they always wanted.’

‘No, you didn’t. You distorted their words. Just like you distorted your mother’s words. Your mother did want you to find love, but not this way. You need help, Andrew.’

‘STOP CALLING ME ANDREW.’ The yell reverberated all around the underground floor. ‘You think you know me? You think you know about my life, my pain? You don’t know SHIT. But if you like pain, I’ll give you pain.’

The fresh blow hit Hunter on the right side of his face, filling his mouth with blood again, and sending him back to the floor. It took him several seconds to regain composure.

‘And now, I have a surprise for you, Detective. .’

There was an uneasy silence, followed by the sound of something heavy, like a sack of potatoes, being dragged across the floor.

‘Wake up, bitch.’

Hunter heard faint slapping sounds, as if Andrew was tapping someone’s cheeks, trying to revive them.

‘Wake up,’ he said again.

‘Umm,’ a female voice whispered and Hunter held his breath.

‘C’mon now,’ Andrew said. ‘Wakey, wakey.’

‘Umm,’ she said again.

From the sound she made Hunter could tell that she was gagged, and in a lot of pain.

‘Captain. .?’ he called, jerking his body forward.

Andrew laughed. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ He rammed the heel of his boot onto Hunter’s chest, sending him crashing against the wall behind him again.

‘Umm. . umm. .’ She sounded frantic, but the gag around her mouth had been tied too tight.

‘Captain. .?’ Hunter called again in a desperate breath.

‘I guess it’s time we all said goodbye to each other,’ Andrew said. ‘I’m sick of this shit.’

‘Ummmmmm!’ This time her tone was full of fear.

‘Andrew, don’t do this.’ Hunter tried moving forward one more time, but again he was kicked back to the wall. He coughed a few times before regaining his breath.

‘She’s got nothing to do with this. I broke your rules, Andrew, not her. If you gotta punish anyone, punish me.’

‘Ohhh, how noble, Detective,’ Andrew said with disdain. ‘You cops are all the same. You all want to be the hero. You never know when to quit, when to give up. Even when it’s so obvious you just can’t win. And that makes you predictable. So guess what, Detective?’

The pause that followed filled the air with dread.

‘This time you don’t get to save the day.’

‘PLEASE, ANDREW, NO.’ Hunter sensed the determination and rage in Andrew’s voice and knew he’d run out of time. He lunged himself forward with all the strength he had left, but they had moved again. Hunter reached nothing. ‘Captain. .?’ But all he heard was her dying gurgling cry; a split second later he felt a gush of warm blood hit him across the face and chest.

‘NO. . NO. . CAPTAIN. .?’

Silence.

‘Captain. .?’

‘Sorry, Detective,’ Andrew said, sucking in a deep, fulfilling breath. ‘I don’t think she’s listening any more.’

The smell of blood intoxicated the air.

‘Why, Andrew? Why did you have to do this?’ Hunter shivered with anger.

‘Don’t be sad, Detective. There’s no reason to miss her so much. . because you’re about to join her.’ Andrew laughed again. ‘Isn’t it some sort of dishonor for a cop to be killed with his own gun?’

Hunter heard the sound of a semi-automatic gun being chambered.

In the dark, Andrew lifted Hunter’s gun and aimed it directly at his head. Hunter knew it was over. There was nothing more he could do. There was nothing more he could say.

Hunter took a deep breath, and despite the darkness, he kept his eyes open, defiantly staring straight ahead.

The deafening blast that came a fraction of a second later filled the corridor with a sick burning smell.