Screwed - Georgetown Coed Killer (A Costigan file) (Book1)

By E.L. Torrip

Still reading dust covers to decide where something is going? I’ll give it to you generic, just like everyone else. Bleach tastes like bleach and watering down anything never improved it. Unless we’re talking grass or hosing down girls in white t-shirts drinking cold, cold beer.

Still not convinced? Read on. You’re not my ideal reader, but I’ll take a swing at you. And you will be impressed.

Victim number seventeen has been found, naked, strangled and posed at the Washington Monument. For three years a serial killer has preyed on the young college girls in Washington D.C. Now with reporters hounding him during an election year, even the President is involved.

Dan Fuller, a young homicide detective, is new to the department and the case. Anxious to get to work and prove his brilliance, he’s sidelined by Captain Meyers until he can find a retired detective named Costigan and convince him to help.

Costigan, however, was forced to retire and holds a grudge that he now fills with his penchant for hookers and booze. Fuller eventually convinces him, but he immediately has demands if he’s going to help out. Demands of Fuller that he insists will solve this case.

Eager to get his shot at the case, Fuller caves to his demands only to face new ones that keep popping up out of the blue. With each one getting more and more twisted, Fuller is forced to stand his ground, but it is too late. He’s already in over his head and facing the likelihood of a long prison sentence with every cop in the city searching to arrest both of them.

With a serial killer no closer to being caught and Costigan proving to be more crazy than genius, Fuller is screwed. They have no evidence, no suspects and no leads, except for the insane ones Costigan creates out of thin air and insists on following up. Each of which only adds to their problems, turning their bad situation into one that is impossible to get out of.

One way or another it is all going to end in less than twenty-four hours. Will Fuller catch the serial killer and prove his brilliance against the criminal mind? Or will Costigan drive Fuller off a cliff?

• Language: English
• Publisher: E.L. Torrip
• Release date: Nov 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301525669

E.L. Torrip

When is the last time you sat back, read a book so well written you go back and reread chapters just to experience it again? The kind of book you promise yourself to put down after this chapter and get some sleep, but you’re too sucked in. You just want to surround yourself with the characters and let it flow.

Book preview

PART 1

The Rook

CHAPTER

1

"Goddamn it, pick up will you Costigan!"

My blasphemy echoed off into the emptiness of endless back alleys unanswered. I was losing it. Again, but that wasn’t something new.

It had become the new norm.

I had everything from Christmas to my recent promotion on my mind and everything in between. I hadn’t realized it yet, but it was a lot of the little things driving me.

Things like not having bought my pregnant wife a present yet or mom retiring and moving down to the basement. I even spent a lot of time worrying about the weather and getting Elaine, my wife, to the hospital if she went into labor. It was that bad and she was way past her due date.

The girls were overjoyed with the weather. They’d spun this whole mess into some kind of fairy tale. Every text or phone call checking in now ended with ‘white Xmas baby’ and a smiley face or ‘yeah’. If I hadn’t commented that it read like a porn title and I preferred spelling out Christmas, they might have dropped it. We were way past that now. I was getting a dozen or more a day and they didn’t seem to be getting bored with it.

Costigan? Costigan was my real problem. Well my biggest problem anyway. I had to find him to end this and at some point figure out what to buy my wife for Christmas. I was even down to considering the puppy I’d fought off for the last five years. It would give mom something to do other than cooking all the time. I’d put on a few pounds.

Hitting redial for the tenth time, I turned my back to the wind ruffling up my collar and got back to work.

I was miserable and soaked to the bone. The District melted snow like a block of salt, twelve inches a day wasn’t unheard of. We’d been getting more than that.

I was tired and just totally worn out.

I had kicked over every damn garbage can in this town. I had the scars and blackened eyes from lack of sleep to prove it. That was my promotion, find Costigan. A job no one else would take. A job I wished I’d had passed on.

I’d never met Costigan, but I felt I knew him pretty well. I took the job because everyone talked about him all the time and his file had its own drawer. I figured he’d be an easy enough guy to find. I was wrong. Dead wrong.

He didn’t have any credit cards or known addresses I could find and curiously since I got this job no one had seen him, ever. I was skeptical to say the least. His stories kept getting told.

I honestly thought he was dead, at least that was my best guess.

After several rings, I got the ‘no voicemail has been set up for this number’ message again. My teeth left one anyway in Morse Code before I ended the call and decided the number was worthless. It was time to go find my car, warm up and wait for daylight.

The cold had slowed my thinking down and was taking over, making me paranoid. I kept getting this feeling I was being watched or followed. I was churning that out of my head, when a police siren erupted close by.

Waiting for the hair on my neck to settle back down, I listened to it trail off and caught some glimpses of their lights bouncing off the buildings. It sounded like they were rolling south, but that was just a guess. It was also where all the action for the big case had been happening.

My job was just to find Costigan, but I tried calling in on my radio to confirm if I’d missed a possible one-eight-seven call and got no response. Either my battery was going dead or they were following orders. I left it turned up a little to catch up when they called in at the scene. My car would be warmed up by then.

What I really needed was to find Costigan and I wasn’t getting any help. I had to refocus myself on what mattered most right now.

He was another old homeless African American with a sign claiming to be a veteran propped up in a doorway. I would have just walked right past him. I’d talked to hundreds of them already and didn’t see the point. They all either just repeated what I said or kept repeating ‘helps an old veteran out’. This was different, this one sounded like he was mumbling Costigan in his sleep.

Pulling out some cash, I gave him a shake and dropped a dollar with Costigan’s picture on the step in front of his face under my flashlight. He gave it a glance and rested his head back down on a step.

Get lost Pooky. He scoffed.

I sensed for the first time on this wild goose chase that someone might just know something to bail me out, I dropped him another five.

Well? Do you know this man or not?

He looked me over and shook his head.

Every fool that is a fool knows that fool, most are too damn smart to admit it though. You want some advice? Take your wet little nose and go shove it up someone else’s ass.

Knowing I was onto something, I dropped a couple more bills on him and continued.

Thanks, but I’ll take my chances.

He chuckled and coughed with a rattle.

I see you already is a goddamn fool is what you is.

Trust me I know what I am getting into. Now where can I find him?

No trust me you really don’t Pooky. He shot right back bug-eyed tucking the cash in his pocket and smiled. If I was to tell you, can you promise to arrest me?

I looked out down the street. The emergency lights bouncing off the buildings in the distance chasing after the cruiser held my attention. I realized there was no incentive.

I was trying to come up with another option, when my wife called. Motioning the old bum to stay put, I stepped on his bag to make sure and took the call. Like I had a choice. When your wife is nine months along with your first child packing boxes around, you take her calls. Even the ones that end with ‘white Xmas baby, yeah!’

It was nothing nine-one-one yet, she just wanted more peanut butter, Skippy Super Chunk. She’d been going through a ton of that lately, ate it on everything and I mean everything. Last night she even spread a thick coat of it on my pepperoni pizza. That’s why moving upstairs could have waited. None of us were thinking straight.

I whispered a quiet I love you, hung up and got back to business.

That’s what I’m talking about Pooky, a little love. He cackled as soon as I hung up, pleased with himself. How about a little love now for a poor old veteran like me?

It’s a busy night and you’re no veteran. I pointed out and dropped my only twenty this time after making sure I still had a five and a couple singles for the Skippy. This tip better be a good one.

Try the Red Horn on the corner. I might have seen him go in a few hours ago.

The Red Horn? Are you sure about that? If you’re…

I said might have. He corrected me sternly. Which gives you the out if you’re smart enough to take it before screwing yourself and kicking off a real shit storm.

If you’re playing me I’m going to come back. You realize that don’t you?

And do what? He asked staring me down. Stick your little wet nose up my ass again? Just give me your smokes and get the fuck out of here since you’re going to go fuck everyone including yourself anyway?

Sorry, I don’t smoke.

Nobody does anymore Pooky and have things really gotten any better? He questioned, rolled over, pulled a garbage bag over his head and began babbling to himself again.

I didn’t know it at the time, but that old bum really was a veteran. His name was Latrell. It gets complicated after that. He wasn’t supposed to try and talk me out of it though. Laying out in the cold waiting got his conscience stirred up.

I wish I’d had some cigarettes to leave him.

It would have made things one hell of a lot better.

CHAPTER

2

The Red Horn?

It was a revelation to say the least.

I hadn’t checked any of the gay bars in town and even if I had I wouldn’t have went there. It was the kind of place, cop or not, you only hit if you were sure, damn sure who you were searching for was there. I wasn’t sure, but I was running out of alleys and didn’t have anything else to go on.

At least now someone was claiming to have actually seen him alive. I didn’t even care if the old bum was mistaken or lying. I was ready to try something, anything different. I wasn’t getting any help down at Metro and was starting to get the feeling no one really wanted me to find him.

I rounded the block and looked down the street just in time to watch the rusty, half burnt out rainbow-neon sign overhead go dark. I picked up the pace, jogging to catch whomever just flipped the switch. Too late.

I was locked out and I wasn’t alone.

There was a couple of gays dressed as Santa’s elves kissing in the dark corner of the emergency exit beside me. They paused watching me as I checked the front door, frustrated.

The tall skinny one, shook a jingle bell that I couldn’t see and didn’t want to. Then having my attention, put his finger to his lip shaking his head.

It’s closed lover-boy. His short partner remarked mockingly out of the darkness.

You can come with us if you’re looking for presents to unwrap? The tall one offered. He’s Vincent and I am Jonathan and trust me when I tell you honey, we know exactly what you’re really looking for.

The two giggled in the shadows like five year old school girls and might have been clicking their heels. They were damn sure clicking something. Gay elves wearing tap shoes? Seemed normal somehow in The District.

I shot them a blistering dark glare over my shoulder and flashed my badge.

I’m looking for Costigan, is he inside? I questioned angrily hoping to run them off or at least back them up.

It didn’t work, at all.

I might tell you in exchange for a little kiss. Jonathan offered. On my jingle bell.

The two looked at each other and giggled excited.

Look is he in there or not?

Isn’t he a little old and dark for you cutie? Vincent asked with a disapproving hand on his hip. Frankly you’re more of a twink and he’s just nasty. You know he has a thing for smashed moths?

Disgusting!

They both hissed in unison with tongues out.

Dear there’s no reason for a handsome boy of a man like you to degrade yourself like that. I can’t watch it, I won’t allow it! Jonathan stated going all out queen on me.

Come with us dear, we’ll cuff you to the bed and do things to you you’ll never forget. Vincent offered licking his lips.

His partner acted out the scene over his shoulder in detail.

Beat it before I… I started to threaten and was cut off.

Ohhhh, see I just knew he’s naughty. Baby faced boys always are the kinkiest ones. Jonathan exclaimed clapping excitedly. Beat my little behind red you naughty boy. Beat it red!

Both turned showing their rears, gyrating, watching me for a response over their shoulders.

Unable to hide my disgust, I grumbled, turned my back and dropped the badge back in my pocket. The pestering only escalated while I pounded harder and harder on the door. No answer, DAMN IT!

I pulled out my cell phone and hit redial again keeping an eye on the queers in the corner. Hearing something just over their taunts, I lowered my phone identifying a ringing inside and knocked louder.

Open up Metro PD! I pleaded as much as ordered before the situation got out of hand, which by my standards, it already was.

Still no answer. Tired, cold, angry and with the torments from my new admirers trying to force presents on me only getting more obscene, I rattled the door, then threw my shoulder into it.

I hate this time of year!

CHAPTER

3

"Look, I don’t need to hear about all your little gay friends in elf tights bullshit…again Detective Fuller."

Fuck you, those fucking elves were not my friends!

I rolled my wrists in the handcuffs clanking the metal links on the table and slammed them down. They were too tight and all I could think about was my fingers tingled and wrists itched. I had an allergy to nickel. When I complained a few minutes ago, he didn’t miss the opportunity to give them a squeeze and tighten them up another click.

My interrogator, Detective Peters, head of Internal Affairs, couldn’t hold back the smallest of grins and stopped the recorder. He was the dragon slayer, we both knew that. The man had personally nailed over one-hundred dirty cops in his career.

I was really having a hard time keeping the story straight in my head and he kept going back to his notes. He was also lying about my earlier statements to try and trip me up. Yeah cops lie all the time. Everyone knows that, but he was a lot better at it than most.

I’ve tried to just fill in the blanks and been through this week in detail ten times. You’re either not listening or just a total dumb fuck! I called him on his shit, again.

He was proud of that and rightly so, condescending as hell. Staring at me, he tapped his pen on the table, flipping it end over end. His way of showing me my future. His version anyway. My reality wasn’t that promising. I was out of ink.

I couldn’t help but laughing to myself every once in a while. Imagining him trying to take down Costigan was just funny. Every time I mentioned his name Peters twitched his right cheek involuntarily like one of Pavlov’s dogs. We both had that in common.

He was good though, top notch, a real ball buster. He’d pulled all the stops and used every trick in the book on me. Even the clock on the wall had been stopped. It still ticked away for effect adding explosive tension to our silent stare downs. I didn’t have any idea how long I’d been in the room or even what time it was.

It was another inside joke on him only I got. I didn’t need a clock to know I was out of time. I didn’t have any left when this started.

Intimidating me though, that was his biggest mistake. After everything I’d been through it was a sloppy play. My life was over, I was just hoping it would be a clean kill. He clearly didn’t get that at some point a man in my position really didn’t want or need any more time to reflect. How could he? When you get there the end is coming at you pretty quick.

I fell back in my chair and we started another stare down round. All I could do was let out a deep breath, relax and wait. He couldn’t do a damn thing to me that hadn’t already been done at least once and likely twice this week. He was winning for the time being though. I’d lost my cool for the first time. We weren’t even pretending to be pals anymore.

I want to talk to my wife and I want my union rep in here now, right now. I demanded, breaking the silence after cooling off.

It was bullshit, but I sold it. I’d learned a thing or two over the last couple of days. I couldn’t care less about my union rep, James something or other, he was a total loser. I really needed to talk to my wife, just one last time, if there was still time left.

Fine, should I wake them? Peters asked and dropped his pen on the pad.

I looked at the clock out of habit, it said around nine, which we both knew was pure bullshit. There was plenty of that in the room. It was another test and I just failed, miserably. Genius, his sloppy play was making me sloppy now. Damn it.

I was trying to refocus and it hit me like a lightning bolt. What would Costigan do? It was either the stupidest or the smartest idea I’d ever had in my life. I was just too damn punch-drunk to know which. Peters had asked for it over a hundred times already, well now he gets it. That proverbial straw that breaks the camel’s back, his back.

Sure, why not? I smiled. But while we wait, where would you like to start this time then? I asked sweet as pie, smiling, content to fuck him over, royally.

I could see by the lost look on his face, Peters was breaking too. He signaled whomever was watching behind the window, if anybody really was, to make the calls. Picking up his pen, he drew a thick line across his tablet to start over. I wished I had that option.

You realize they’re watching this, they can hear every single word I’m telling you right? I warned him one last time sweeping my eyes around the room.

He didn’t care. I could tell every time I warned him only made me seem crazier. I was doing it more for my conscience, than his welfare at this point. You can bet your ass Costigan had never been that kind. I understood why now.

State your full name again for the record and begin after the gays. He replied and hit the record button again.

My name is Detective Daniel William Fuller. It was around two in the morning on the twentieth when I first made contact with Costigan at the …

I said the name loud and clear, just to watch him twitch again.

I wasn’t going to sugar coat my story this time. Or leave out the parts that would get him killed. I’d tried to spare him, but his fucking notes and stupid questions according to Darwinism meant he had to go. Now he was going to hear the whole fucking story, the real story this time. Every detail, every fact, every little secret and when I am done, he’ll be screwed, just like me.

The truth was going to get Peters head blown off, literally. A week ago that would have really bothered me, now I couldn’t care less. Knowing you are going to die frees up a lot of room in your conscience for company.

There was still room for more.

CHAPTER

4

The Red Horn.

I bounced off the front door, considered going around back and gave it another try. Bum rushing it with everything I had, it burst open like it didn’t have a single screw in it this time.

It was wide open and smacked me as I stumbled inside catching myself on a fake flocked Christmas tree headed for a face plant. The tree kept me on my feet, but the ornaments went flying like a bomb had just went off. I staggered around, got my bearings and looked at the mess. It was a dark place.

I used the Christmas tree to hold the door shut and swept the ornaments back underneath it with my foot. All but one. A giant black dildo that I missed in the darkness and then stepped on twisting my ankle. The hum of it vibrating and thumping on the floor didn’t help.

Cursing in pain, I was attempting to put some weight back on it, when a gruff voice called out from the darkness toward the back. I didn’t have to ask, somehow I knew exactly who it was.

Now that’s timing Rook. He, Costigan spoke to me for the first time. Great idea! Pick that up and come join us.

So you know who I am? I questioned unable to conceal my surprise, or my pain.

There really isn’t that much to know, is there Rook? He asked and lit up a cigarette. Don’t mind the window. Limping around with a big black dildo gets about as much attention in this town as a politician with a microphone.

It was starting to sink in. He had some company, but I’d finally found my man!

I left the so named Anal Intruder vibrating behind on the floor, my ankle hurt, but worked. Fighting the pain, I worked my way to the farthest back corner from the door trying to walk it off.

He was just there puffing away on his cigarette like a man without a care in the world waiting for me patiently. I had a feeling I was walking into a trap. It was darker back there, lit only by a flickering florescent bulb on its last leg. Not to mention all the smoke rolling off him. I couldn’t make much out, just heads and bodies bouncing.

Trust me I wasn’t complaining, darkness was my friend. I could still see far more than I wanted to when I got closer. Two hookers were really earning their pay playfully rubbing down a naked old man with oil.

He had on one of those stupid giant Santa hats, the type with a dingle bell attached.

Another thing I hate about this time of year. There isn’t a pedophile out there without a Santa suite hanging in their closet. Don’t get me wrong on this, I am not saying that I think or believe that every mall Santa is a sex predator. I’m just saying it attracts them and after working a couple of cases this time of year I always give them a second look.

When I got up close, he locked eyes with me and flipped the dingle bell to the back. Giving me a good read, he put the cigarette back to his lips and inhaled deeply. I tried to stare him down, but the cherry in his eyes and the hookers at work got me to blink. I was rattled and I didn’t know why. Working my old beat I’d interrupted tricks often.

Disappointed? He asked snapping me out of it with a smile. Hookers need a little Santa cocking too. He continued with a gravelly murmur studying me carefully. Especially the naughty ones with big tits.

I couldn’t come up with any way to respond to that. He gave me a few seconds and I looked around for the rest of his suite. I didn’t see it and he lost interest grabbing one of the hookers by the throat. I watched a little thrown off as his arm muscles flexed and her throat started collapsing in his hand.

The hooker under the table was back to blowjob duty and sped up while the one held in his grip began fighting back. It got real when she clawed at his hand and forearm breaking nails and drawing streaks of blood to get free. The harder she fought, the tighter he squeezed and stared into her eyes.

Out of reflex, I released the snap on my shoulder rig and pulled my service weapon. Just like they beat into my head at the academy, I had him covered.

That’s enough, let her go Costigan. I ordered, but my voice came off a little squeaky instead of commanding.

Put your gun away unless you’re going to use it and go home Rook. I am disappointed enough my longshot didn’t pan out. He grumbled back and blew me off.

It was the first time as a cop I ever felt any doubt as to whether or not I was in control of a situation. I clearly wasn’t and was stuck wondering what he’d meant.

I was trying to make a decision on what to do next, when she dropped to her knees, used her legs to push against the booth and broke free. She slid right past me on her oiled up butt twenty feet across the floor. She wasn’t a quitter I realized when I noticed the floor was covered with oily butt tracks. I was standing in one and by the time I looked up, she was right back for more.

He grabbed her tighter and held her closer this time. This time she was stuck and knew it. He growled, forced their noses together and gave it all he had. She was pinning his wrist to her chest with her chin, yanking on his oil cover bloody forearm with both hands and losing.

Shit! I still needed a plan B and just kept blanking. I caught a break when he loosened up on the hooker and looked right at me.

What do you think of that? He asked me and gave her a slap.

Think of what? It was a pretty broad question given the situation. I had no idea what he was asking, so I went with something safe.

The longshot? Who were you expecting? I questioned like any good detective would have.

I was a little off balance though. So I kept a safe distance, with a hand on my Glock and eyes in the back of my head. I didn’t want or need any surprises.

A serial killer I guess. He explained and did something under the table that made one of the hookers moan loudly in ecstasy. Satisfied he turned his attention back to me. Sometimes if you just look away and ignore them long enough, they just jump in the boat on you. He finished letting out an eerie chuckle.

I was just blanking, I had nothing for a comeback.

Releasing the hooker, he downed a shot with a beer back, puffed on his cigarette and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger curious.

But this is giving you a kick? Perverts like you always have a dark side.

Perverts like me or like you?

He stopped, angered and got dead serious.

Let’s be clear, I am not a pervert like you.

Let’s be clear. I emphasized. I am not the one choking, possibly raping and playing slip and slide with hookers here Costigan. You are. I pointed out the facts.

I could tell right away my degree in criminal psychology didn’t set well with him pointing the finger. Another mistake, I should have dropped it.

No, you’re the type that’s so dark you have to hide your acts of twisted sexual fetishes under lies. It’s the liars like you that are truly dangerous. You sick fuckers always end up thinking you can just lie and get away with anything.

Sounds like you are accusing me of being a serial killer.

Are you? He asked blowing smoke right in my face.

No. I answered without pause waving it off. Do you believe that?

Sure, why wouldn’t I? He smiled biting his cigarette with his teeth. Now if you had told me you weren’t chubbing up looking at these asses I’d know better. Here take this one, she’ll fight you like your wife before church if you start poking around her ass with a dick dipped in spit.

I was struggling to just keep up with the now confirmed psychopath laying there naked, being rubbed down in oil with a boner. Clinically this was getting out of hand. First I’m a pervert and or a serial killer, next I am raping my wife anally before church?

The shock, like a jolt of electricity, prodded me forward. My mouth started moving before my mind could catch up. I know now why the smart psychologists just asks questions.

Well for starters never mention my wife again and for the record that’s not our kinda thing. So you might want to recheck your facts Mr. Costigan. I informed him, angered stepping closer.

He lightened up, a little.

Isn’t it? I’m not judging, do whatever you want, but never lie to me. He gestured with his cigarette. I take that seriously.

Just wanting to move on, I changed the subject to him.

I just want to be allowed a chance to do my job.

But have you honestly asked yourself why you’re here? Or why you have to convince me to come along before you can join the donut club at the crime scene? He questioned running his finger over one of the hooker’s lips.

He was exceptional at throwing me off balance. Now I was stuck wondering how he knew why I was there. Or did he?

So you think I am here because we need your help?

I am sure of it and what I just figured out is you don’t even know why.

I don’t question orders, but I’m sure Captain Meyers has his reasons.

Since we can both agree on that, what do you think Old Stinky Dick is really up to?

I really don’t have any idea.

It was the truth.

I stood there lost looking him over. His attention went back to the hooker. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around any reason why Captain Meyers wanted him anywhere near this case. From the look of things, this drunk, naked old man probably lived in the booth covered in bodily fluids and whatever the hookers were rubbing all over him. Baby oil maybe? It was extremely disgusting.

Having had my fill of a front row seat to a live porn show, I turned my back to them, but couldn’t leave. The Captain’s words earlier held me in place even though my mind kept shouting sanely to run. This was a complete waste of time, but I still had to try.

Since you already know everything, I guess the question is are you coming or not? I asked him point blank.

He wasn’t listening and didn’t answer, more interested in the hookers. I glanced over my shoulder just as he grabbed the black one by the hair forcing her to give him a blowjob while he continued to choke the other one.

Are you coming or not! I demanded a straight answer.

No, not yet, but if you could come hold her hair it would speed things up. He said sweeping her hair out of the oil pooled up on his chest.

He held it off to the side like I was really going to pitch in. Creepy and disgusting. It gave me the sense I needed to try and re-clarify why I was there.

I meant are you going to help us with the case?

How can I really help you? You can’t even hold this hair back and I am tired. He replied switching hookers. I guess good ol’ Dick is just going to have to go fuck himself for once!

They were going at it like hell now, huffing, puffing.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

CHAPTER

5

Lynette and Shaw pulled up to the Washington Monument.

It was good timing. The police tape was still being strung up. Lynette flashed his headlights, rolled down his window and motioned the patrolmen on guard over.