Murder 42 - A Thriller (Sarah King Mysteries Book 2) Read online

They ran Farkas’s name and came up with a history. Farkas was born to Zsofia and Gregory Farkas, immigrants from Hungary. He was homeschooled and briefly attended the University of Southern California, studying painting and art history. His criminal history was clean, except for one charge: an aggravated assault. One of his professors had been attacked in his home and beaten viciously with a baseball bat. Farkas was charged and arrested, but the charges were dropped due to lack of evidence. The professor had gone into a coma and never woke up. Without any witnesses, they couldn’t do anything.

  “We’ve got three addresses for him right now,” Stefan said. “The apartment we raided, a condo in his name near the apartment we raided, and then an apartment in Watts, of all places. Not sure why he has that.”

  Sarah spoke up. “It’s probably his work studio.”

  Stefan nodded. “Sounds about right. If we’re gonna hit ’em, we’re gonna hit ’em both.”

  Another officer began going over strategies and lamenting that they didn’t have more time. A commanding officer discussed use of the SWAT team. This would be a joint LAPD/FBI operation, and they had various protocols for the situation. Sarah pulled Stefan aside.

  “What is it?” he whispered.

  “He’ll be waiting for you.”

  “So? He can’t fight a SWAT team.”

  “He’ll kill Gio if he sees you coming.”

  “He won’t see us coming.”

  “He will. This is a guy who sat across the street and watched while you raided that other apartment. He’ll see you coming.”

  He folded his arms. “Well, that’s the best we got unless you’ve got a better idea.”

  “Let me go by myself. I mean, not by myself, but alone to the door. Let me talk to him and see if I can convince him to let Gio go.”

  “What? That’s crazy. He could shoot you on the spot.”

  She shook her head. “He won’t do it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that wouldn’t be artistic. He’s an artist, Stefan. That’s what he thinks he’s doing. Let me talk to him before you do anything. Please.”

  He sighed. “I’m going to have snipers across the street.”

  “No. Nothing that could tip him off. He doesn’t know who I am, he’ll have no reason not to trust me.”

  “Sarah, you could die.”

  “And if you raid that house, Gio will die. I know it. Farkas doesn’t care if he’s caught. It might even be part of his art; I think that’s why he was so careless with that receipt. But he’ll kill Gio. I’m going. If you want to help, give me a ride down there. Otherwise I’ll find someone else.”

  He thought for a moment. “I’ll take you.”

  45

  No one spoke in the vehicle on the drive over. Stefan sat next to Sarah in the back, with two FBI agents up front. Stefan had asked her where she wanted to go, and she told him she wanted to go to his work studio. That was the most likely place he would be holding Gio.

  “What’re you even gonna say to him? Pizza delivery?”

  “No, I’m going to tell him I know who he is and that I need to talk. If I can touch him, maybe I can find something out about him, something that can form a connection and convince him to let Gio go. When Gio’s out of the house, you can do whatever you want.”

  “Will you do one thing for me? Will you wear a mic?” Stefan pulled out a small device that looked like a garage door opener. “Just put it in your purse. If anything goes down, we’re raiding that house.”

  She dropped the mic in her purse. Her mind raced, and her heart beat so furiously that she was scared it might stop, as if it only had so many beats in a lifetime, and she was using all of them up. Her mouth went dry, and she wished she had some water.

  The section of Watts they drove to looked abandoned. Graffiti covered walls, telephone poles, broken business windows. She stared at people crossing the street, at men huddled together on corners though it was nearly two in the morning. The realization of how late it was surprised her. Normally by two in the morning she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Now, she felt as though she could run a marathon.

  “I still think this is a bad idea,” Stefan said as the driver pulled into an apartment building.

  “It’s the best way to keep Gio safe.”

  The car stopped, and she reached for the door handle. Stefan grabbed her and kissed her. It was a quick kiss to her lips, and he pulled away. She could tell he instantly felt ashamed.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I’m… just worried, I guess.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, opening the door. “Just don’t do anything until I have Gio out.”

  The apartments were split into four buildings. The one Farkas rented was in the farthest building, and Sarah began the walk over there. The parking lot was empty, and all the lights in the apartments were off—all except one. She looked in and saw a couple in bed, staring at a television.

  Farther down were a dirty pool and a small playground with toys strewn over it. She passed them without much more than a glance and kept her eyes on the building she was headed to.

  The building was ugly, and she wondered what Farkas thought of it. Maybe the ugliness was somehow required for making his art. She pushed those thoughts out of her mind, put on her best smile, and went to the door. She knocked and waited.

  The buildings were split into four apartments, and Farkas’s was on the bottom floor. Sarah took a step forward. She wanted as little distance as possible between her and Farkas. Within a few moments, the door opened.

  Farkas looked taller in person. His head nearly touched the top of the door, and he was so pale that he looked sick. Sarah smiled as widely as she could and said, “I’m so sorry. My car broke down, and I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t have a cell phone. I was just hoping I could use your phone really quick.”

  Farkas stared at her. His eyes narrowed slightly and then widened, and he grinned. “Of course. Come in.”

  She followed him inside the apartment. As she’d guessed, the apartment was a work studio. There was no furniture, only painting supplies. The walls were coated in plastic, as was the floor. Only one lamp in the corner provided any illumination, but it was a black light, and Farkas’s pale skin was lit an even brighter shade of white.

  “Wow. This like a painting studio or something?” she said.

  “It’s where I work, yes. Let me get you that phone.”

  “Sure,” she said with a smile.

  Farkas went around the corner and disappeared into the other room. From there, he called, “You’re lucky I was still up.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. I know how late it is.”

  “Where did your car break down?”

  “Just out on the street.”

  “Huh. Did you not see the convenience store across the intersection?”

  “No, I did. I just thought this was closer.”

  Farkas stepped out of the other room. Dangling from his hand was a blade that shimmered in the black light. Sarah’s guts tightened, and she instinctively took a few steps back until she touched the door.

  “There is no convenience store across the intersection.”

  Sarah swallowed. “Where is he? Is he going to be part of your art?”

  “Not anymore. But you, Sarah, you will definitely be a part of something great. Something… luminous.”

  “Is that what the Murder 42 video was? Art?”

  “Oh, yes. That. It was indeed. I wanted to make something that transcended all morality. Something so horrific to the average person that it would change their view of the world. That’s true art, isn’t it? Have you seen the video?”

  “Yes,” she said quietly.

  “And you’re not the same, are you? It’s… transformative.”

  “Not for the child.”

  “What’s one child’s life compared to an eternal work that will live for centuries? The child should be grateful she was allowed to participate in such a glorious undertaking at all.” />
  Sarah took one step to the side, nearer to the doorknob, and Farkas moved toward her.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said.

  “Where’s Giovanni?”

  “Agent Adami isn’t here, I’m afraid. It’s just me and you.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Oh,” he said, taking a few steps across the living room, “I wouldn’t worry about him. I’d worry more about your own transformation.”

  Sarah looked around. As far as she could see, the only other way out of the apartment was a window that had stacks of paintings against it. “You knew, didn’t you? About the receipt? You knew you left it there. A part of you wants to stop, Oliver. It’s the part of you that’s still human. Let me help you stop.”

  He shook his head. “No, that part is dead.”

  In a flash, he lunged at her. Sarah dodged away from him, tripping over some canvases. She got up and ran around the kitchen with him right behind her. She sprinted down the hall and into a room, slammed the door behind her and leaned against it with her back.

  The tip of the blade crashed through the thin wooden door right next to her face, and she screamed. The blade withdrew. She hit the floor, and it hacked into the wood again, piercing right where her throat would have been.

  Sarah got to her feet and ran to the windows, but it was too late. There was no lock on the door, and Farkas swung it open and stood there with a grin, staring at her as she tried to unlock the windows in the semi-dark.

  “I have something glorious for you, something special. Because they say you are special. Are you special, Sarah? Do you see things others can’t?”

  Sarah turned, her back to the wall. He stood in front of the only exit in the room, and she could see almost nothing. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths, and opened her mind.

  A burning shot of agony went from her stomach, up her spine, and into her skull. She screamed and held her head, which caused Farkas to stop and consider her. She screamed again and looked up at him.

  Her eyes widened. She couldn’t believe what she’d just seen. “That child… it was your daughter.”

  Farkas smirked. “So you can see things, can’t you?”

  “It was your own daughter. How could you do that? How could you put her through that much pain?”

  “Art is pain. And even I must be willing to make sacrifices for it.”

  “You’re right. You’re not human anymore.”

  “I don’t believe I’ve ever claimed to be,” he said, lifting the blade.

  He rushed at her, stabbing into her stomach. The pain seared, and she nearly vomited, wanting to faint. Her knees were giving out, her muscles aching to let go. But not before she let him see what he did. She might die, but she wouldn’t let him get away. No matter what, there were some things that were unforgivable and needed a reckoning.

  Sarah wrapped her hands around his head. “Take it!” she screamed. “Take it and see what she went through. See what your art did to her!”

  Farkas’s eyes rolled back. He groaned, almost inaudibly at first, and then he began screaming and dropped to his knees. Her fingers dug into his skin, and she felt blood running out of him. All the pain his daughter felt, all the terror, it rushed into Farkas’s head. He felt it because Sarah felt it, and she let him see.

  He screamed again, and Sarah grabbed the blade out of his hand and shoved it into his throat to the hilt.

  Farkas gurgled, his blood spurting over her. She couldn’t see it, but she felt its warmth over her hands. He collapsed onto his side, the blood pooling around him. Sarah reached down and took the blade out, throwing it across the room. He would bleed to death much faster.

  Just then, the door was kicked open, and Stefan and the two agents charged in, guns drawn. As Sarah watched them run to her, she became aware of a new warmth on her leg. It was her own blood, slowly leaking from her body into her boots. She felt the wetness on the bottoms of her feet before she collapsed.

  “No!” Stefan shouted. “Call an ambulance!”

  Sarah smiled. “He’s in one of the apartments,” Sarah said.

  “What?”

  “Gio. He keeps them near him. He has to be in one of the other apartments. Find him, Stefan.”

  “You just hang on, don’t worry about him. I’ll find him. Just hang on!”

  46

  Light faded to dark and built up to light again.

  Sarah was in and out, in and out. She answered questions, she felt people tugging at her, and she finally ended up in a recovery room. The blade had missed most major organs and pierced her stomach. Internal bleeding and infection were the major concern, and the surgeons went in to suture the wounds.

  She couldn’t eat the first day, and after that she could only have ice chips. But it didn’t matter. She was on so much pain medication that she wouldn’t have been able to keep anything down anyway. Stefan came and saw her first. He sat next to her in a chair, and they watched television. Once, he reached over and held her hand. She was too loopy to say anything.

  Then, one day, Gio came.

  He stood over her, smiled, then leaned down and kissed her cheek.

  “I missed you,” she said. “We never should’ve let anything get in the way.”

  “No, we shouldn’t have.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Sarah.” He leaned over and kissed her again, a long time. She had never felt safer than in his arms. “Goodbye.”

  “What?” she said. “What do you mean?”

  And just like that, he was gone.

  Sarah began to cry.

  Eight days into her hospital stay she was coherent, and the pain medication was more a dull sensation of lightness in the back of her mind. It didn’t overpower her anymore. Stefan came in with a cup of ice cream and a smile on his face.

  “You can finally eat something real,” he said.

  “Gio’s dead, isn’t he?”

  Stefan lost his smile. He set the cup down on the table and sat on the edge of the bed. “You were right about the apartment,” he said. “But it was too late.”

  “How’d he die?”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “What did he do with him, Stefan?”

  Stefan looked down at the linoleum floor. “He, um… cut him up. Cut him up really bad.”

  Sarah was silent a moment. “He made a statue, didn’t he?”

  Stefan looked at her. “Yes. Partly him, partly clay.”

  She nodded. “I’ve seen it since I’ve been here. He wanted to capture Gio’s beauty. To never have it fade.”

  Stefan stood up. “I can’t handle this shit. I don’t know if I… I don’t know what the next step is. I don’t think I want to do this anymore.”

  “No, you’re good at this. Don’t let it stop you.”

  “What?”

  “That feeling that it’s overwhelming. That no matter how hard you work, nothing changes. It might just be a drop in the bucket, but if you didn’t do it, the bucket would have one less drop.”

  “I don’t know… I don’t know.” He came to her side and kissed her forehead before heading to the door. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Enjoy your ice cream.”

  When she was alone, Sarah turned her head to the window. Outside, the California sun shone down on the city brightly, illuminating everything. There would be dark corners where the light couldn’t reach, there always would be, but that was the secret of the sun: no matter how much darkness there was, it would always scatter to the light.

  A tear rolled down her cheek. “Goodbye,” she whispered.

  EPILOGUE

  The recovery had gone well. Sarah had stayed in the hospital two weeks, far longer than she ever thought she would, and she was ready to leave. She could walk on her own now with little pain. Her doctor, a Persian woman named Guli, promised that she would be discharged in about an hour. Stefan was on his way down to take her to the best restaurant around for some real food.

&n
bsp; As she sat on the bed to slip on her shoes, someone knocked softly at her door.

  “Come in,” she said.

  A man entered. He wore a black suit and had a deep tan, with long blonde hair that came down in a ponytail. He had bright eyes almost like crystals, and he smiled and sat down in a chair across from her. He folded one leg over the other and said, “Hello, Sarah.”

  Something about the way he said it, as though he knew her intimately, struck her as odd. She let her shoes drop to the floor and held his gaze. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Friedrich, and I’m here to offer you a position.”

  “Position for what?”

  “I work with a very special group of people—one that I believe would be interested in your very special talents.”

  She was silent a second. “Who are you?”

  He smiled. “I think we should talk about your future and all the great things you can do with your particular skill set, my dear. First, go have your meal with Agent Miles. Then, I’ll come see you again.” He rose and strode to the door. At the last moment, he stopped and turned to her. “Sarah, I know you feel like you’re alone, but you’re not. There are others in the world who are exactly like you. I’ll introduce you to them. But for now, go have some fun,” he said, winking at her.

  When he was gone, she sat stunned a moment and then hopped off the bed and went out into the hall. She looked both ways, but the man was already gone.

  “Excuse me,” she said to one of the nurses standing just outside. “Did you see where that man went?”

  “What man, dear?”

  “The man in the black suit who was in my room?”

  The nurse looked at her other co-worker and back to Sarah. “I’ve been out here about five minutes, sweetie. Nobody’s been in your room.”

  “No, just now. He left.”

  “I’m sorry, you’re the first person to come out of your room that I’ve seen.”

  Sarah stood there a moment, then took a step back, and leaned against the wall. She had a feeling her life was about to get a lot more interesting.