The Crucifix Killer - Chris Carter [127]
‘Are you OK?’ the nurse asked worried.
‘My throat hurts,’ he whispered in a weak breath.
‘That’s normal. Here, let me take your temperature,’ she said, offering him a thin glass thermometer.
‘I don’t have a fever,’ Hunter protested, pushing the thermometer away from his mouth. He finally remembered where he was and what had happened. He tried to sit up but the room did a back flip somersault on him.
‘Wow!’
‘Easy there, mister,’ she said, putting her hand over his chest. ‘You need the rest.’
‘I need to get the hell out of here.’
‘Maybe later. First you need to let me take care of you.’
‘No, you need to listen to me. My friend . . . how is he?’
‘Which friend?’
‘The one who came in nailed to a fucking cross. I don’t think you could’ve missed him. He looked like Jesus Christ. Do you remember him? Supposed to have died for our sins.’ Hunter tried sitting up once again. His head pounding.
The door opened and Captain Bolter stuck his head through. ‘Is he giving you attitude?’
The nurse gave the captain an ivory smile.
‘Captain, where’s Carlos? How’s he doing?’
‘Can you give us a moment?’ the captain asked the nurse as he stepped into the room.
Hunter waited until she was gone. ‘Did he make it? I gotta go see him,’ he said, trying to stand up but collapsing back into bed.
‘You ain’t going anywhere,’ the captain said firmly.
‘Talk to me, Captain, is he alive?’
‘Yes.’
‘How is he?’ Hunter demanded.
‘Carlos lost a lot of blood, what the doctors call a class-four hemorrhage. In consequence, his heart, liver and kidneys have weakened considerably. He was given a blood transfusion, but other than that there isn’t much else anyone can do. We have to wait for him to fight back.’
‘Fight back?’ Hunter’s voice now showing a slight quiver.
‘He’s stable, but still unconscious. They are not calling it a coma just yet. His vital signs are weak . . . very weak. He’s in the ICU.’
Hunter buried his head in his hands.
‘Carlos is a strong man – he’ll come out of it,’ the captain reassured him.
‘I’ve gotta go see him.’
‘You ain’t going nowhere for now. What the fuck happened, Robert? I almost lost two detectives in one go and I didn’t even know what the hell was going on.’
‘What the fuck do you think, Captain? The killer went after Carlos,’ Hunter shot back angrily.
‘But why? Are you telling me the killer suddenly decided to up his game and become a cop killer? That’s not what he’s about.’
‘Is that so? So please tell me, Captain, what is the killer about?’
Captain Bolter avoided Hunter’s eyes.
‘I’ve been after him for over three years and the only thing I know he’s about is torturing and killing. Who he kills seems to make no fucking difference. It’s all a game to him and Carlos was supposed to be just another pawn,’ Hunter said, trying to raise his voice.
‘Run me through what happened,’ the captain ordered in a calm voice.
Hunter went over every detail, from the time he’d received the phone call to when he’d closed his eyes waiting for the explosion.
‘Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you call for back-up?’
‘Because the killer had said no back-up. I wasn’t about to gamble with Carlos’s life.’
‘It doesn’t make sense. If you’d beaten him at his own game, why set the detonator again?’
Hunter shook his head, staring at the floor.
‘He wanted you both dead. No matter what,’ Captain Bolter concluded.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘If he didn’t want you killed, why reset the bomb?’
‘Evidence.’
‘What?’
‘That room was full of evidence, Captain. The tape recorder, the cage, the explosives, the door-lock mechanism, the wheelchair. If we were to get our hands on all of that, something was bound to give us a lead. Blow it all to hell and we’ve got nothing.’
The captain made a face as if he wasn’t very convinced.
‘The cross came off its base as if it had been greased,’ Hunter continued. ‘It was too easy. The amount of explosives the killer used was exactly enough to destroy only the laundry room. We were just about two feet from the