He saw a black Sig P226 Elite pistol being pointed at his partner’s head. Hunter recognized the weapon as Garcia’s semiautomatic.
‘Put your gun down, detective,’ the man commanded from his hidden position. Only his arm was visible. In such dim light, Hunter didn’t have a clear shot. ‘Put your gun down nice and slowly or I’ll scatter your partner’s brain all over the floor.’
Hundred and Twenty-Nine
Hunter stood still, his aim as steady as it could be. He only needed one chance.
‘You’ve seen what I’ve done,’ the man continued. ‘I’m sure you know I’m not bluffing.’ His voice was as serene as it’d been the first time they’d met. ‘I’ll give you only a second.’ He cocked the gun.
‘OK,’ Hunter called out before cautiously placing his pistol on the floor.
‘Now kick it this way.’
Hunter did as he was told and his gun stopped just a foot away from the chair Garcia was on.
Finally, Dan Tyler, the owner of the house in Malibu and the person who tipped Hunter and Garcia about the photographs on the fireplace, stepped out from behind the pillar and picked Hunter’s pistol up from the floor. ‘Walk towards me, slowly. Any sudden movements, your partner dies first.’
Hunter took baby steps towards Tyler and, as he did, Tyler walked backwards, approaching the metal table. ‘That’s far enough,’ he said as Hunter came side by side with Garcia. ‘Get your handcuffs from your gun holster and throw me the keys. I don’t have to tell you to do it very slowly, do I?’
Hunter followed the instructions.
‘Now cuff your hands behind your back.’
A clicking sound echoed through the room.
‘Turn around and show it to me.’
Hunter obeyed, snapping at them to show they were secure.
‘Now kneel down next to your partner and sit on your heels.’
Hunter’s determined eyes never left Tyler’s face.
‘It’s over, Michael,’ he said evenly. ‘You know you won’t be able to get away with this.’
Tyler looked undisturbed. ‘No one has called me Michael in a very long time.’ He chuckled. ‘I don’t want to get away with anything, detective. I don’t have anything or anyone to get away to. After I’m done, I don’t care what happens to me. My life ended a year ago.’
Hunter remembered the first time they talked. Tyler had told him that his wife had died twelve months ago.
‘Killing these people won’t bring Katherine back.’
‘Kate,’ Tyler shouted. ‘Her name was Kate.’
‘Killing these people won’t bring Kate back.’ Hunter tried again.
Tyler’s eyes flashed fire. ‘You have no idea what I’m doing or what this is all about.’
‘We know more than you think.’
Tyler smiled defiantly. ‘Is that so?’ He placed both guns on the metal table and checked his watch. ‘OK, I still have some time. Entertain me.’
Hundred and Thirty
Hunter saw this as an opportunity to buy time and maybe fill in some blanks.
‘Alright.’ He spoke slowly. ‘You used to be Michael Madden. Your wife used to be Katherine Davis. You were both students at Compton High. Like several other students you were bullied, pushed around and made fun of, and that extended way beyond the school gates. Back then, there was a particular group of kids who took bullying to a whole different level. They humiliated both of you to such a degree you ended up hating the way you looked. You couldn’t stand looking at yourselves in the mirror.’ Hunter paused, searching his attacker’s face. ‘That group of kids was known as “Strutter’s Gang”.’
Tyler didn’t look surprised. ‘So you finally found out about them? I’m glad. I was worried no one would.’
‘And that’s why you directed us to the pictures on the fireplace. We missed them at first and you couldn’t have that. You couldn’t have those victims being attributed to someone else. You needed us to find out about the bullying.’
Tyler smiled.
Hunter kept his voice steady as he continued. ‘Then you became rich. Very rich. You had money to do anything you wished, including starting a new life someplace else. Someplace no one knew who you were, far away from the bullying, but that wouldn’t be enough. The damage had already been done. Every time you looked in the mirror, you still hated what you saw.’
‘Money can buy anything, detective.’
‘Including a new face,’ Hunter admitted.
Tyler laughed. ‘Please don’t stop now,’ he teased. ‘My life story is just getting interesting.’ He leaned against the wall. A relaxed gesture. Hunter carried on buying time.
‘You created a new identity – Dan Tyler. From then on you had a good life. You’d even forgotten about Strutter and his gang for twenty-five years, hadn’t you? But something brought them back.’ Hunter paused, waiting for some sort of reaction from Tyler. He got none. ‘Was it Kate’s death? Is that why you decided to go after them and their fears? Because your worst fear had become a reality?’
Intrigue colored Tyler’s face. ‘My worst fear?’
Hunter needed to choose his words carefully. ‘Losing the person you loved the most. Your wife. That was your worst fear, wasn’t it?’
Tyler clapped his hands slowly while cocking both eyebrows and nodding. ‘I’m impressed. You do know more than I thought you did.’ He reached for something on the metal table and Hunter tensed. ‘Did you figure that out by yourself or did she tell you?’ Tyler lifted the copy of the LA Times with Mollie’s picture.
For the first time Hunter’s eyes left Tyler’s face and quickly searched the room for a hiding place – nothing.
‘Where is she? Where’s Mollie?’ he asked tentatively.
Tyler frowned. ‘You think she’s here? Why would I have her?’
‘Because she was a threat to you and your plan. Because she knows who you are.’
Hundred and Thirty-One
Tyler threw his head back and laughed a strange, gurgling laugh. Hunter grimaced at the sound.
‘No, she wasn’t a threat, and, no, she doesn’t know who I am.’ His voice was confident. ‘I got close to her, detective. We shook hands. She’s quite a sweet thing.’
Hunter felt a knot start in his throat.
‘Even after touching my hand, there was no recognition. She had no idea who I was. Whatever she was helping you with, whatever she sensed wasn’t clear enough to make her a threat.’ Tyler chuckled. ‘If I wanted to kill her, she would be dead.’
Hunter held his stare with equal determination.
‘You think you figured this out, detective? You have no idea what really happened or what Strutter’s gang was capable of. You didn’t dig deep enough.’ Tyler’s voice had deepened to a chilling tone. ‘This didn’t start in high school. It started on the streets when we were much younger. They used to push and push until we couldn’t take anymore, and then they’d push some more.’ He licked his cracked lips. ‘Almost every day I saw Kate crying on her way back from school. They’d always come up with something to make her cry: name-calling, face spitting, physical abuse, sick humiliation… they didn’t give a fuck. Do you have any idea what being laughed at and treated like a worthless piece of shit every goddamn day feels like? What kind of psychological damage that would do to a terribly shy girl like Kate? They were happy to scar her for life just for a laugh. One day they even covered her in human excrement, just for the hell of it.’
Hunter closed his eyes for a moment. Kate had been the same Katherine that James Reed had talked about that day in his house.
‘And then there was Kate’s father,’ Tyler continued. ‘That drunken and pathetic asshole. She’d come home from school with tears in her eyes and he’d scream at her and beat her up even more. Her mother was never around to care.’ Tyler was grinding his teeth in anger. ‘They shot her confidence to pieces. She was made fun of and called “ugly” for so long and so many times she truly believed she was. But Kate was the sweetest and the prettiest girl I’d ever seen and I’d do anything for her.’ He paused to compose himself. ‘I was intelligent, very intelligent. I figured out very early that I could make a lot of money without having to have a job. I could make money from my bedroom or from the street just by using a pay phone.’