Chapter XIV
he sound woke him. Almost imperceptbile at first. He opened his eyes in the darkness, knowing not if it was night or day. He could hear voices, and the echoes of footsteps; but they all seemed far away in the darkness. Then he realized in the darkness he might hopefully have a chance of escape . . ., momentarily he was elated.
Then he remembered how they'd guarded him, how they'd treated his wife, and the drive for vengeance came into his heart. He fought down the fury rising up in his chest.
He knew they would be leery of him, knowing he had killed three men . . . and, not knowing the circumstances nor even William himself. Plus, it was no telling what Dr. Kny-pel had told them. There was one thing for certain: Dr. Kny-pel was not concerned about anyone but himself, and he didn't care as to how he hurt anyone, as long as he got what he wanted.
Finally, the door was opened catiously. The light flooded in, and William held his hand up to shield his eyes from the brightness of it until his eyes adjusted. Soon he could see several rough looking men standing around, one of them being the Chief of Police Don Siegal. "Aw man, this is not good!" William thought to himself.
"OK, come out of there slowly and carefully. It's not gonna hurt my feelings to put you in the grave with all those men you murdered in cold blood . . ." The voice was hard, cruel, and vicious. It sounded as if he thought he were the judge, jury and the executioner.
Saying nothing, but emerging from the cell into the warehouse he quickly recognized, he knew where he was. The cells were nothing more than the little storage boxes for goods. He quickly looked around but saw nothing of his wife or Melinda. What he did see though was the noose hanging from the center of the warehouse.
A chill ran up his spine. He felt as though he would die via that very rope. The icy fingers of death probed his body like deep plunges of a frigid knife.
"Where's my wife?" he asked quietly.
"Your wife is fine, so is the other lady. And this world will be fine as soon as you are executed for your crimes. But, there is a way to prevent that. Just deliver up the Codes, and you can go free," Siegal told him.
"I've told Dr. Kny-pel the Codes were destroyed, and I have no way of reproducing them. Besides, if I did still have them, I'd die rather than give them to the likes of you," he finished.
The kick came from behind landing on his right calf. He fell to the ground and writhed in pain. He looked up into the face of Damon Nix, the rookie cop. The look on his face was one of pure pleasure and delight. He acted as if he wanted to kill William. Why, William did not understand.
William had never known the rookie prior to the murders, He'd certainly had never given him any reason to despise him like that. And, Daman didn't seem to be a person who just went around mad at or having a problem with everyone he met.
But, now, he'd made William mad. William spoke in as menacing way as he could lying on the ground, "you always do your fighting from the back?"
"Shut up convict! You've had that coming for a long time! You're gonna hang for the murder of the six people you killed, and I'm going to kick the bucket out from under you personally just to watch you choke!" the rookie spat.
"Six people?" William responded laughingly. You must have counted a couple of fingers twice. Besides, how did you count that high without taking your shoes off? Only one finger per person. Didn't your mama teach you how to count?" William added.
"Oh, now you've gone into selective memory have you? I hear that's another slick trick used by cons to get out of crimes they've committed.
"So, who have I supposedly murdered now?" Will countered. He knew of the three he'd dispatched personally, but of the other three he had not a clue. The only possibility that he could have been charged with was Connie Ellis, for whom they'd tried to frame him.
"The rookie just turned away and ignored him while he talked to Siegal in subdued tones. William had gotten to his feet, but was motioned back against the wall by two of the hoodlums he saw earlier. Damon Nix had turned and was walking back toward him with a nasty look on his face.
We've also got you on arson, destroying private property, and possession of a handgun. We have the .45 automatic with which you killed Connie Ellis. It has your fingerprints all over it. It was found under her body in the house to which you set fire. Probably an attempt to hide the evidence. It was the same gun used to kill Detective Chris James. It was found in the motel room which you set on fire."
Williams laugh was genuine as he laughed at the rookie. "Is this your best at framing someone? And, when was James killed? The last time I saw him was standing out in front of our hotel room. Did he teach you all these police thingies?" William deliberately taunted Damon in an attempt to keep him talking.
He already learned more in just the charges against himself than he'd learned since the trial. He himself knew that the gun he thought was used to murder Connie was not an automatic, but was a revolver. He also knew it was not a .45, but a .38
His thoughts were interrupted by the upraised voice of Dr. Kny-pel. "Shut up you fool!" he spat. He was looking at the rookie and he was very angry. Then he finished the tirade You have got to be the stupidest guy I ever tried to work with!" His disdain for the young cop was very evident.
"Who do you think you are coming in here talking like that? You have no say in this matter," he growled. He began again, "I suggest you keep your nose stuck into the doctoring part, and let us professionals do the work like it's supposed to be done," Damon finished giving Dr. Kny-pel a glaring look.
Dr. Kny-pel didn't argue with him. Turning to Siegal he said "is this the best you can come up with? Get rid of him." He started walking toward the door. Then "better yet, I'll do it myself!" As he turned, he caught the attention of both guys standing beside William.
He motioned to one of them who promptly pulled a Glock .40 from under under his vest, double-tapped Damon Nix in the chest, killing him instantly, then calmly replaced the weapon as the roars echoed into a still shocked silence. It seemed no more to him than shooting a tree with a squirt gun.
William jumped at the sounds, then recoiled in horror as the force of the bullets ripping into the body knocked the rookie off his feet into a sitting position against the wall. The body then fell over and relaxed, the blood spreading out on the concrete. Siegal also had a look of complete shock on his face as well.
"Let that be a lesson Siegal," Dr. Kny-pel said never missing a stride, never even turning around to view the scene. He just opened the door as he reached it, and walked out into the bright sunlight that the one lying on the floor would never again enjoy.
William saw just how much danger he, his wife and Melinda were in. Without a doubt, either or all of them could wind up with a bullet from the same gun by which Damon Nix had just died, and possibly, Chris James. He wondered if the revolver was still there.
He had no idea the odds were about to turn in his favor. He took stock of his situation: He knew he couldn't trust Siegal, he didn't trust Len Mathers, he didn't know where his wife was or what she'd been through, he didn't know where Melinda was or if he could trust her, He knew of no one at the moment he could trust implicitly
He didn't know where the FBI was or what they were doing . . . and he didn't know help was coming from a whole new direction.
Another thing he didn't know: What he would face before any of that help could be brought to bear . . . As he turned his head to look back at Siegal, he saw the noose in the little cell from which he'd been brought. He could also see the original noose hanging from the center of the huge building.
The last thing he saw before they closed the door of the cell to which he'd been returned was the still, lifeless form of Daman Nix. His eyes then lifted to the noose suspended from the roof of the huge building. Under it was the small round bucket upon which he thought he was standing the first night he was here.
A chill rose up his back, and he shivered from it as he realized; death was on his own trail . . .
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