The Patient: An Iris Williams: Iris Williams an Annette Toni Novel.

By R.G. Miller

Ordinary people are committing heinous acts of violence: a babysitter, a UPS drive, a college professor... why? Why are these seemingly normal citizens committing these crimes? Homicide Detective Iris Williams and her partner Detective Annette Toni are assigned to the case; a case so baffling that it will leave the detectives dumbfounded.

In the meantime, a hurricane, more powerful the Sandy, is headed towards the East Coast.

Will Detectives Williams and Toni be able to unravel the perplexing murders that plague the city? Or will the perpetrator disappear with the storm?

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.G.Miller
• Release date: Nov 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386461449

Book preview

THE PATIENT

Detective First Grade Iris Williams wiped the sweat from her brow as she walked toward the crime scene. New York City experienced its fifth day of an oppressive heatwave. The temperature reached one hundred and ten degrees by midday; at 11:45 pm, it was ninety-five. 

A distraught young woman was speaking to a uniformed police officer when Iris and her partner Detective Second Grade Annette Toni, approached the yellow crime scene tape. Iris looked around. Emergency vehicles and the bus from the medical examiner’s office were at the entrance to St. Nicholas Park on 125th Street in Harlem. 

Iris and her partner spent the last three hours at Harlem Hospital. Their baby, born breech eleven months ago, had developed asthma. All Iris wanted to do was to get home and take care of her baby.

Iris spotted Medical Examiner and Forensic Pathologist Raymond Johnson. He stood beside a park bench wearing a white Micro Guard Coverall; a black tarp covered the body. There’s Raymond. She said to Toni."

Go ahead. I want to see why she’s so upset. Toni pointed toward the young woman.

Iris approached M.E. Raymond Johnson. What’s up, Raymond? Whatcha got? 

Hi, nice to see you, too. M.E. Raymond Johnson was a man that Iris had dated briefly. He was a tall man, clean-shaven, in his mid-thirties. Iris loved his smile. Well, what I’ve got is a dead man. Come check this out.

Holy shit! Iris’ first words were when the medical examiner pulled back the sheet covering the body. The body of a middle-aged man was sitting on a park bench. His arms were stretched across the top of the bench; two steak knives were embedded in his right and left hands. Somebody had stabbed him repeatedly in the face, neck, and head. How many stab wounds are there? Iris asked. The victim’s clothes were saturated with his blood.

It’s hard to tell, but if I had to guess, I would say over fifty.

Iris inspected the dead man. The killer had stabbed the man in the forehead so viciously that the knife tip had broken off.

The killer had broken off the tips of four knives in his head, Raymond said.

Any prints on the knives?

Yes, we’ve found partials on three of the steak knives so far. There are no other stab wounds on the body, and from what I can see, no defensive wounds either.

How long has he been dead? And who the hell is he?

To answer your first question, he’s been dead for less than an hour; rigor hasn’t set in. And his name was Richard White; he was an investment broker.

So, what was this, a robbery gone wrong?

No, the deceased had his wallet, and no money was taken. Look at his this. Raymond lifted one of the victim’s eyelids. Petechiae. I guess the killer strangled this man until he fell unconscious; he nailed his hands to the top of the bench before stabbing him to death. Toni walked up and stood next to Iris.

Damn, somebody did a number on this guy. She said as she stared at the body. Our witness over there, a Miss Chelsea Blackmon, has a lot to say.

Iris looked at the frightened young woman. She and Toni walked over to where the witness was sitting; she sweated profusely. Mrs. Blackmon, can you please repeat what you told me to my partner? This is Detective Williams. Miss Chelsea Blackmon was twenty-six years old. She was small in stature with long black hair. Her eyes were puffy from crying. She looked up at Iris. It was crazy. Chelsea Blackmon paused.

What were you two doing in the park at this time of night, Mrs. Blackmon?

Richard wanted to.... Mrs. Blackmon cleared her throat. ... do it in the park. He was married, so... Mrs. Blackmon lowered her head. We’ve been seeing one another for eight months. My husband was laid off a year ago; I was seeing Richard because I needed the money.

Can you please tell me what you saw? Iris asked.

Richard didn’t have any condoms, so I ran across the street to get some. When I came back, this man was stabbing Richard with something... Mrs. Blackmon buried her face in her hands. I was so scared... She looked up at Iris. I couldn’t move.

Did you get a look at the man’s face?

No, as you can see, the two streetlights are broken. But I can tell you that the man was dressed in black... Mrs. Blackmon paused. He stabbed Richard; then he dropped whatever he was stabbing Richard with on the ground, reached into the bag he was carrying, pulled out another knife, and began stabbing Richard again. He would drop the weapon, reach into his bag, and pull out something else... Mrs. Blackmon Looked at Iris; then she looked at Toni. I was so scared. He kept stabbing Richard over and over. Mrs. Blackmon covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

Mrs. Blackmon, please, tell my partner the rest, Toni said.

Iris waited impatiently.

Mrs. Blackmon wiped the tears from her face. This guy was stabbing Richard; then he stopped on a dime, just like that, and stared into space like he was listening to something. His hand was poised over Richard’s head. Then he turned and walked away. Just stopped, Bam! Just like that.

Iris looked at her partner. Then she said to Mrs. Blackmon. We’re gonna need you to come down to the station.

Please, you can’t tell my husband. He thinks I’m at my girlfriend’s apartment asking for a loan.

Don’t worry; we won’t. Iris waved over an officer who escorted Mrs. Blackmon to a waiting patrol car. What is your FBI sense telling you, partner? Detective Annette Toni has aspirations of becoming an FBI agent. Before Toni could answer, a police officer walked up to Iris with two homeless people. They told her that they saw the suspect get into a car. It was a green Cherokee. The man said to Iris, And he was Puerto Rican. The homeless man was wearing a wool coat and reeked of alcohol.

No, it wasn’t. the woman said. She wore a pair of ripped denim shorts that needed washing and a dirty midriff tee shirt. It was a dark blue Escalade, and he was white, and a lady was driving. The woman was high as a kite. Iris looked at Toni as if to say, what the hell is this? Okay, take them down to the precinct and take their statements.

Toni frowned. That was a strange story. The part about our unsub stopping and staring into space like he was listening to something.

Most likely, he was on drugs. Hallucinogenic, maybe.

Raymond placed the black tarp back over the victim’s body.

AT THE DOUBLE 0 PRECINCT, Toni took Mrs. Blackmon’s statement; then called the frightened young woman a cab. The homeless couple still argued over the make and model of the vehicle they saw the suspect get into.

Richard White worked on Wall Street. At the Titan Corporation. The firm is closed now. Iris said, But I’ll get in touch with them in the morning. Iris struck the top of her desk with the palm of her hand. This son of a bitch did a number on our victim.

Detective First Grade Iris Williams has been on the force for sixteen years. Her temper was legendary throughout the department, but only Toni knew how sensitive Iris was, and how she could get emotionally involved in a case. It has gotten her into hot water with her superiors in the past, but her outstanding arrest and conviction record had always bailed her out of trouble. And although Iris worked for the NYPD, she detested the criminal justice system. She believed the citizens of New York City who lived in poverty were at the mercy of the system.

A woman walked into the detective’s office. Lieutenant Maureen Holland was a no-nonsense professional. She was a transfer from Midtown South. She’d been at the Double 0 for two weeks, and it took Iris that long to get used to the new lieutenant, who she considered brash. Lieutenant Holland’s green eyes were intense. She had short brown hair, and her body was in tip-top shape. She worked out every day, and it showed. Where did you find those witnesses in a crack house? She shouted.

An officer at the scene said they saw our perp getting into a car, Toni replied.

Yeah, but they can’t make up their minds if it was green or dark blue, an Escalade or a Cherokee. But we got their statement. I thanked them for their help and sent them on their merry way.

Iris looked at Toni. She wanted to get home to her sick baby. We just took a statement from a credible witness who saw the whole thing.

So, this should be an open and shut case, that’s good. I love open and shut cases. Lieutenant Holland looked at her detectives. Iris could see that the new lieutenant had something else she wanted to say, but instead, she said, You guys look beat. Go home. Get some rest.

Iris thanked Lieutenant Holland. Jasmine is probably driving Mrs. Green crazy.

How old is your baby, detective?

Jasmine is eleven months, and next month is her birthday.

I love the name, Jasmine. Holland paused. I’ll see you, ladies, the day after tomorrow; enjoy your day off.

Iris opened the door to her apartment and found Mrs. Green sound asleep in the living room. Little Jasmine played inside her playpen a few feet away from her babysitter. The sound of the door closing stirred Iris’ landlady from her sleep. Who is...? Oh, Iris, it’s you. Mrs. Greene owned the building that Iris lived in. She was somewhere in her seventies, but she looked much younger. When Iris had asked her how she stayed looking so youthful, Mrs. Green simply said, sex, my dear girl. Hot, heavy, and plenty of it.

Was Jasmine any trouble, Mrs. Green?

No, honey, she slept most of the time. Iris lifted her baby from the playpen and kissed her on the cheek. Was she coughing like she was last night?

Well, just a little. Then I gave her a shot of my grandmother’s remedy. Iris looked at Mrs. Green. Don’t worry, baby, my grandmother’s tonic is all-natural. It consists of garlic and ginger tea. You let it come to a boil, and you got yourself a cough killer.

Iris looked at her baby. And she hasn’t coughed since?

Nope, not at all. Mrs. Green picked up the baby’s inhaler and spacer that the pediatrician had given Iris. If I were you, baby, I’d stick to the all-natural remedies. They’re much safer than this contraption... if I were you.

Thank you, Mrs. Green, Iris said. She walked Mrs. Green to the door and locked it behind her. Iris then focused her attention back on her baby. Toni put on a happy face and ambled over to where Iris and the baby were. She still couldn’t get over the fact that Jasmine’s father was a psychopathic maniac who’d the papers called The Piggyback Killer. Alfred Freedman (the killer’s actual name) had broken into Iris’ apartment last year and raped her; Jasmine P. Williams was the result of that rape. Toni had thought Iris was out of her mind to bring the killer’s baby into the world; she did her best to talk her girlfriend out of having the baby. But Iris was taught by the females in her family that life was a precious gift from God.

You’re so precious, Iris said to her baby. Here, Toni, hold her for me; I’ve got to pee. Toni took the toddler. As soon as Iris closed the door to the bathroom, Toni placed the child on the floor and stared at her. Jasmine held on to the playpen and lifted herself. I hope you don’t turn out like your father. Iris came out of the bathroom and saw them. Oh, you’re trying to get Jasmine to walk?

I... yes... she’s getting too big to be carrying around. Toni stammered.

Iris dropped to her knees. Come on, baby; you can do it. She stretched out her arms. Come on, Jasmine. The baby took her first step toward her mother. Jasmine took another; then another; she stood three feet from Iris. Jasmine dropped to her butt and laughed. Iris picked Jasmine up. Call her, Toni.

Toni dropped to one knee. Come on, Jasmine, come to... Toni paused and looked at Iris, ... ma, ma. Jasmine staggered over towards Toni; she made it all the way. Toni lifted her. Good girl. Iris looked lovingly at the two people that meant the world to her. She trotted over to them and hugged them both. Iris looked at Toni and said, Love can fix anything, Toni. She knew how Toni felt about Jasmine. And she also knew Toni was working hard to shake the negative feelings she felt toward the baby. Iris believed that time would take care of Toni’s negative feelings. You did good little girl, Toni said. She passed the baby over to Iris. How do you feel about Mrs. Green's home remedy for asthma? Toni asked.

Iris sat on the couch and kissed her child. Did you say something, Toni?

Mrs. Green and her home remedy, Toni repeated.

I don’t know; what do you think?

My mother swore by her home remedies. And I must say, from my own experience, that they do work.

So, you think we should give it to Jasmine?

Yes, I think we should try it. Garlic and ginger tea sounds harmless to me. Toni yawned, Come on, let’s get some sleep.

Two

Iris spent the day with her niece, Pamerla, who had a two-year-old daughter of her own. Hey, Toni said as she hugged Pam. You’re looking more like Iris every day. Pamerla Thomas was the spitting image of Iris. She wore her hair short and dyed it platinum-like her aunt. The two were the same height: five feet five, and the same weight: one hundred and twenty-seven pounds; they also shared the same peanut butter complexion. Toni, who was biracial, stood at five feet nine. Her hair was black and cut short. Her eyes were green; Iris thought Toni looked like the actress who’d played Wonder Woman.

Annette Toni was born in Hannibal, Missouri. Toni left home, on a stormy night, after fighting with her parents over the direction of her life. Her mother wanted her to become a model, while her father wanted his daughter to become a lawyer; Toni went in a different direction; she’d become a cop with dreams of becoming an FBI agent.

Iris placed Jasmine into the playpen with her cousin Deloris; then, she hugged Pamerla. How are you, sweetie?

"I’m fine.