The Other Side of the Coin

By J.E.F. Séguin

When Lieutenant Albert Stone arrives at the homicide scene of a prominent entrepreneur who had recently been exonerated of rape, he discovers the remnants of a grizzly slaughter. The businessmans head is almost completely severed from the rest of his body, and documents strewn about the scene implicate the decedent in the crimes for which he had been absolved. This unusual juxtaposition of evidence is nothing new to Lieutenant Stone.

Police had tagged the suspected perpetrator with the name Jack, a man who has obvious ties to organized crime. Jack has committed numerous crimes over the past eight years, crimes that some might actually consider a form of justice, as he preys upon people who have committed a serious crime and subsequently escaped justice from the legal system.

Lieutenant Stone is convinced that Jack is also responsible for the shooting death of his partner a year earlier, so he is particularly vigilant about bringing Jack to justice. However, as the lieutenant continues to investigate the case, he repeatedly discovers that what may often seem contradictory at face value may just be The Other Side of the Coin.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 24, 2009
• ISBN: 9780595629176

J.E.F. Séguin

J.E.F Séguin was raised in St. Albert, a small community approximately fifty kilometers east of Ottawa. As a youth he displayed an incredible amount of imagination. A Colombo, Murder, She Wrote and MacGyver Fan, he combined what he loved to create The Other Side of the Coin.

Book preview

Chapter 1

It was a warm, late summer day. and Edward Jempkings, president of Software Enterprises, was reading the report of his latest trial. He was sitting at his desk on the top floor of his high-tech, high-security building with its metal detectors and security guards at the entrance and the air vents guarded by infrared sensors, all of which made him feel safe. New York was a beautiful but dangerous city. He read every line of the court report. It amused him slightly. Being accused of the rape of a sixteen-year-old girl was a serious offence, especially if it were true. His lawyers had been able to have the case dismissed and to prevent his name from reaching the press.

He could still remember when he had met her. He had walked out of a bar that night, feeling bad for not getting his fun. Suddenly, he saw the girl walking home after a babysitting job. Under the street light, she had seemed a bit older, though he had not cared. He had approached her and smiled. She had looked back at him as he invited her to a nearby motel, but then she had turned him down and ran away. Getting angry, he ran after her, easily catching up with her and grabbed her from behind, placing a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. He pulled her into a dark alley, ripped her clothes off and enjoyed raping her.

Edward returned to the present. The girl’s parents had been fools to believe they could even accuse him of anything. All the girl could do was describing him. The police analyzed the semen left on her. That was what had gotten him to trial in the first place, although both the bartender and owner of the Paradise bar swore that he had not left the bar until much later that night. The report on the semen proved to belong to a convicted and recently released rapist.

Amazing what money can give you when you need an alibi and a piece of evidence switched, he thought. He continued to read the report, hoping he had not forgotten something that the family could use in an appeals court. Suddenly, his intercom flashed, signaling that someone was calling him. He pressed the button under the flashing red light. Yes. What is it? He recognized the voice of the guard downstairs.

Sorry, Mr. Jempkings, the guard said. I just needed to let you know that a guy from the cleaning services just arrived. He passed through the gate, and his metal broomstick triggered the metal detector. We checked it and him and everything seems to be fine—

Edward cut him off. What? Only one? But we need at least four to clean up the reception room for the merger deal.

I know, sir. He says he had to come in first and talk with you about the payment and details.

Are you sure you searched him thoroughly?

Yes, sir. All he has is a broom, a small bottle of Pepsi, his keys, and some papers.

Edward thought about this a minute. All right, he said. Let him come to me for the deal, but tell him to leave his broom downstairs.

I told him, sir. He refuses. He says it belongs to his company and he would be in trouble if it got lost.

Edward took a deep breath. All right, all right. Send him in, just as long as you checked him out to be clean. No weapons.

He is, sir. You know that nothing ever passes us.

Edward shut off his intercom. He thought that his dealings with the cleaning company before would have dispensed him with such trivial details. He decided to ignore it now and returned to his previous thoughts. The police would be suspicious if he were to be accused again.

Next time, he thought, I will wear a condom and make her quiet forever. That would be the only way to keep from getting caught. He could just hire a prostitute, but he had enjoyed himself too much that night. The young body he had savored was impossible for a man in his forties like himself to resist.

He hid the papers in his desk, got to his feet and walked to the back of his office to admire the view through his windowed walls. The sun shining on the surrounding buildings relaxed him. He was far away from the Statue of Liberty, far away from the ocean, but it didn’t matter. He stared at the many skyscrapers and noted how the sun shone on their glass walls, then looked down at the street far below. It had always been the same. The higher he was, the better he felt. On this day, he couldn’t feel any taller. After a few minutes, he walked back to his desk, fully relaxed and opened his file on Androplex, the production company he had acquired and now was forcing to merge with Software Enterprises. He was listing the advantages of the merger for the board of directors when the intercom buzzed again.

Mr. Jempkings, his secretary said, there is a Mr. Barrie to see you. You know? The man from the cleaning service?

Yes, fine. You can let him in. Take your lunch break now and be back at 12:30. I will want my coffee at 12:35.

Yes, sir.

The intercom went silent, and Edward raised his head and looked at the door. The man who walked into his office seemed to be in his late forties, wore a uniform and had a beard. There was a Pepsi bottle in his pocket and he carried his broom. Edward saw him as perfectly harmless.

The man closed the door behind him and walked toward Edward. They talked about the details of the contract. Edward had no idea that this would be the very last conversation in his life.

The man from the cleaning service left the building while Ms. Jones, Edward’s secretary, was away. She came back after her thirty minutes to take coffee to her boss. She fetched his coffee mug, made his coffee, walked slowly to his door and knocked on it. She knocked again. No reply.

Mr. Jempkings, she called, are you all right? Still hearing no reply, she carefully opened the door. At first, she saw nothing but his desk. But when she walked closer, what she saw made her drop the cup of coffee; the liquid stained the white carpet. She went pale and began to shake. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth.

On the floor between his desk and his chair was Edward’s body, chest down, head to one side, blood still flowing from his half-severed neck. From where she was standing, Ms. Jones could see the expression of terror on his face.

She backed up, shaking, until she reached the wall, then she turned around and ran to the phone on her desk. She almost broke her finger dialing. She spoke the only word she could utter. Murder, murder, murder, murder!

The police had to trace the call.

A few miles away, the truck from the cleaning service pulled into the small, underground parking area. The vehicle stopped and parked. The driver pulled some papers out of the glove compartment, carefully examining the handwriting of the person who had written on the top sheet. He filled in another line with the date, miles driven and destination then returned the papers to the glove compartment. He picked up his broom and opened the door of the van, looked around and walked out of the parking garage. He calmly walked to the parking lot besides the next building, a pizza parlor. When he came to a black car, he took his keys from his pocket, unlocked and opened the door and tossed the broom in the backseat. He sat in the driver’s seat and removed the latex gloves he was wearing and stuck them in his pocket. Then he drove out of the parking lot and headed out of the city.

After several hours of driving he reached a small town and turned on a back road. After driving to a wooded area, he stopped the car. At this point, he got out of the car and took off the uniform of the cleaning service. He was now wearing a plain black T-shirt and blue jeans. Next he removed his latex mask that made his skin seem darker and the wig, revealing the face of a man in his midtwenties with short brown hair and deep green eyes. His face was common, one that might easily be ignored in a crowd. He opened the trunk and after dropping the disguise in, picked up a pair of license plates and a screwdriver. After removing the plates on the car, he tossed them into the trunk and installed the new ones. Next, he pulled the broom out of the back of the car and tossed it into the trunk. Finally, he changed his shoes, putting on new, clean ones he found under the passenger seat.

All this done, he started the car again, made a U-turn and headed back to New York. On his way back, he drove at a faster rate, but more carefully, than before. When he reached a small housing complex, he parked in front of an average-sized, duplex house with a garage. Taking the broom out of the trunk, he walked toward the left side of the house, climbed up the few steps and let himself in. After he closed the door behind him, he quickly pressed the combination in the alarm system to shut it down.

The interior of his house was lightly decorated. To his left, there was a small living room with a pale blue loveseat sofa and an old wooden rocking chair. Across the room stood a small, basic television set with a VCR attached. To his right was a hall. He stepped into it and stopped at the first door on his right, which opened to a workshop filled with metal and welding equipment. He set the broom down in this workshop, walked to the end of the hall and then up the stairs to the second floor. In the first room, he opened a closet and picked out a simple gray vest and put it on over his T-shirt. Leaving the room, he went downstairs and back outside. Locking the door behind him, he headed for the other side of the building and knocked on the door.

An elderly woman opened the door. Ah, Jeffrey, she said with a smile. So nice to see you. Please come in. She stepped aside and he entered.

Thanks, he said. Did Jenny behave today?

The woman closed the door behind him. She cried a little because of her stuffed toy, but other than that, she was an angel.

She’ll get it back as soon as we get home, he replied. It needed to be cleaned. Thank you again for watching over her. I take it she’s sleeping right now?

You know it’s her nap time.

Are you sure I can’t give you anything for helping out? he asked.

How about giving me your recipe for your chicken spaghetti surprise? she said and he laughed.

Let me guess, he said. Jenny asked for it?

Yes, she said. She keeps saying it’s the best, and she cried herself silly today when I told her I didn’t know how to make it.

It’s pretty self-explanatory. Some chicken, noodles and some spices. The spices are never the same, that’s why it’s a surprise, he explained.

Have you considered becoming a cook?

Oh, please, Mrs. Kebbs, that’s as classy a recipe I can make. I’m not that much of a cook. Besides, I’d get stuck working all the time and wouldn’t be able to spend as much time with Jenny.

She led him into her living room and sat down inviting him to do the same. I suppose you’re right. It’s just that you would be able to meet more people with a steadier job. You know that Julia Pebbles moved in nearby, just two houses away. She’s young and single.

Mrs. Kebbs, I appreciate that you’re trying to help. But I just can’t see myself in a relationship right now.

Jeffrey, how many times must I tell you? Please, call me Agatha. As for the relationship … well, you’re a good father, but little Jenny needs a mother. You can see that every time she plays with her doll. It’s not normal for a girl to call her doll Mama.

Look, he said. It’s better for me to have no relationship than a bad one. If I was to start dating and Jenny wouldn’t like her or if it didn’t work out, I’d feel worse.

What about that nice-looking woman that comes over every now and then?

You mean Andrea? He blushed lightly. She’s just a friend.

That’s not what I see when I look in her eyes.

Jeffrey was about to reply when a third person entered the conversation. Daddy! As the four-year-old girl ran toward him, he stood up. She had curly brown hair and brown eyes and was wearing pink pants with suspenders and a red and white shirt. Jeffrey picked her up in his arms and hugged her back. Her smile could melt any problem.

Agatha, he said. Can I count on you to babysit her tonight? I’ve got a shift.

The woman nodded. Of course.

The little girl seemed disappointed. You’ll be away again, Daddy?" She was almost in tears.

Don’t worry, Jenny, he said. I will leave after your bedtime. I just want Mrs. Kebbs to make sure you’re all right. Will that be okay?

Jenny nodded, and her father set her back on the floor. Time to go home, he told her. Now thank Mrs. Kebbs for taking care of you.

Jenny faced the elder woman, who now stood up and took a few steps forward. When Jenny said, Thanks, Mrs. Kebbs smiled and replied, You’re very welcome.

As Jeffrey took his daughter’s hand and led her outside, Mrs. Kebbs walked to the door with them and waved good-bye. The little girl waved back and smiled her miraculous smile. When the door closed behind them, Jenny looked up at her father and asked, Daddy, can we have spaghetti surprise for supper?

What, again? We had it two days ago. He shook his head. No, not tonight. There’s a beef stew that’s been cooking in the oven since this morning.

Jenny seemed disappointed, but she remained silent while her father led her back home. In Jeffrey’s mind, it didn’t matter. He knew she liked the stew.

Chapter 2

Lieutenant Stone was not impressed. At the top of a high-security building, a top-brass entrepreneur had been nearly decapitated. Stone was a tall man in his early thirties, with short blond hair and wearing a regular police uniform. He squatted down in front of the victim’s body. The desk had been carefully pushed out of the way to give a better view of the murder scene, and the lab specialists were inspecting every detail before the body was taken away. An older sergeant came in and reported to Stone.

Lieutenant, he said, I checked in with security. Apparently they had only one security breach, and it’s been checked out. They’re checking their equipment now.

Stone shook his head and stood up. Walking to the desk, he noticed a file lying in plain sight. He pulled latex gloves out of a pocket, put them on and opened the file. In it he found trial information, some receipts and some newspaper clippings.

Found something interesting, Lieutenant? the other officer asked.

Yes. It appears that the victim was as much a predator as a murderer. There is evidence here that he savagely raped a sixteen-year-old girl, bribed some witnesses and had the evidence tampered with. All this should be verified, of course, but at least we have a motive now.

Not necessarily, the sergeant said. He was older, in his late forties, with gray hair. This evidence could have been put there to fool us, he said. Most likely, it’s someone after his money.

Stone shook his head. I doubt it, Sergeant. The way the proof is displayed after the crime, it matches a pattern of crimes I’ve been following for the last year. The killer has always been able to slip away. It’s always someone who committed a serious crime and escapes justice. Whoever it is, he has a sense of humor about it. He removed his gloves and stuck them back in his pocket. Have you heard of the case of Julian Bount?

Yeah, the sergeant said. The serial rapists. It was in all the papers. Started by drugging them in bars till one of his victims was able to identify him, then he was on the run and started to kill his victims till he was caught. What about him?

The news was a bit vague. The truth is that he was found naked in a back street right next to the police station. We found him castrated. Next to him was a newspaper, open to a particular page. From all appearances, he was operated on by an excellent surgeon. We never had any leads as to who did it. However, I did find a pattern. A few months later, we found another man who was involved with the black market, specifically organ theft. He had people drugged, and when they woke up, they were covered with ice—

You mean the guy—?

That’s right, Stone said. The man was found in a frozen food truck with quite a few organs missing. We tracked his organs down to a local hospital.

Sounds like your guy is a good surgeon, the sergeant said.

Stone nodded. "I’ve tracked sixteen different incidents like this.