Stan: Chapter Eleven

The sun was beating down hard. Looking up at the sky there wasn't a cloud to be seen. Newport Street was quiet and peaceful. Every house had a well mown lawn, flowers in the windows, and national flags flying from every porch. Every house but one. Number 23.
Number 23 had a for sale sign out side, the grass was three feet high, and the fence looked like it was about to fall down.
Anderson and Morris stepped out of the Volvo and stared at the building. This looked like a house of a serial killer.
They opened the gate, which was falling from its rusty hinges, and walked up the path trying to avoid the brambles. Opening the screen door, it was obvious they hadn't needed to stop off at the estate agents for the key. Whoever had been in here last had left the door ajar.
Stepping inside, the interior was in stark contrast to outside. Every surface had been scrubbed, and polished. The carpets looked almost new.

"Where to first then?" asked Morris.

"You take upstairs, I'll do the basement, and we'll meet in the middle?" Anderson asked back.

"Thank fuck for that. I hate basements at the best of times." Morris said with a smile and disappeared upstairs.

Anderson walked around to the side of the stairs and opened the basement door. Pulling on the light cord there was a small flicker of light an then a small pop as the bulb blew.

"Fucking great." he muttered to himself and reached for the flashlight on his belt.

Pointing it down the stairs he slowly made his way down. Flashing the light about he saw the usual things you would see in a basement. A dart board on the wall, an old fridge, off cuts of carpet etc. There was also a damp, musty smell in the air. Again, like most basements. In the corner was a large furnace, the door slightly ajar.
Anderson walked over to it, opening the door wide. Inside was a huge pile of ash. But hanging out slightly was a piece of cloth.
He bent down to inspect it closer, it was a light blue, material that you would normally see being made into a dress.

"Strange thing for a single guy to be burning." he said again to himself.

He noticed by the door to the furnace, on the floor, a couple of drops of what seemed like dark brown paint. Standing up, he shined his light toward the ceiling. All of the floorboards above his head seemed to have the same paint like substance on them. In huge pools, spaced randomly over them.

'What kinda person thinks that's interior decorating...' Anderson thought, and then the reality sunk in.

That wasn't paint, that was blood. Morris walked down the basement steps.

"Nothing upstairs...holy shit...is that?"

"Blood." Anderson cut her off. "Ring the lieutenant, i think we have a new crime scene."

Anderson and Morris sat outside on the crumbling porch. The forensic guys had been an hour so far. They had confirmed that the marks on the basement ceiling were human blood. Ripping up the carpet, they could see that it had been soaked through from above. Although the carpet had been cleaned, and cleaned well, the underside was the same colour as the floor boards. To have soaked into the hardwood floorboards the way it had, they were talking about gallons, not litres of blood. Anderson was sure that this place had been the last place a lot of girls had seen. He felt angry with himself for sitting across a table from the man, and then letting him go.
Morris felt her phone vibrate and got up to take the call, walking off, leaving Anderson with his thoughts. He wasn't sure he was cut out for this anymore. Sure, when he had joined homicide it had been a thrill. Chasing and catching the bad guys. But now. He wasn't sure he was up for it. He wasn't sure they were going to catch this one. This bastard seemed too good. Sure he had made a mistake getting caught on CCTV, but so far that was it. If he hadn't been picked up for soliciting then they wouldn't even know his name.
Anderson's head sank and he ran his hand through his hair. Maybe he was just getting too old. Too soft. Maybe it was time he stepped aside, let them bench him, replace him with a younger model who was fresh and keen.
Morris returned, with a smile on her face.

"That was Larson. He had been doing some digging into Stanley Crippen. Want to hear what he has found so far?" she asked.

"Well I'm fresh out of ideas, so shoot." came the reply.

"OK. Stanley Crippen. Born to Elaine and Robert Crippen. Only one arrest, the one the other night." she replied.

"OK, please tell me not all" Anderson sighed.

"On Stanley, yes. Seems like last night was his only arrest. But, on his sister. Well that's a whole new ball game." Morris said with a huge smile on her face.

"Sister?" Anderson managed.

"Sister." Morris echoed. "Twin sister to be exact. Alice Crippen. Arrested three years ago for Arson and murder."

"Please don't tell me there is another one running around as well" Anderson said.

"Not quite no." replied Morris. " She was found by an off duty officer at the scene. Confessed everything to him there and then. She told him she had shot her parents, then burned down there business with them inside. The off duty cop, just happened to be Lieutenant Wood, now known as Captain Wood. Whom the first package was addressed to. Want to know what business?"

Anderson just looked at her so she continued.

"They owned the amusement pier at the cove. Where those two girls were found just the other day. Victims 18 and 19." She was pleased with herself for finding this out. Even more please for actually remembering the victim numbers.

"You think they are doing this together?" Anderson asked.

"I wouldn't think so, her current address is Bayview Mental hospital. Secure Wing. So unless they tend to let out their most damaged patients at night to murder and pillage, I wouldn't bet on it." she replied still smiling.

"OK. Well it's a start. I'll get on to the lieutenant about interviewing her." Anderson suggested.

"Done and done." came her reply. "Already taken care of, the hospital is awaiting us. They have said though, not to expect much. She rarely speaks, and when she does, she doesn't make much sense."

"Morris, sometimes, if I didn't know where you had been, I could kiss you." Anderson said, this time the smile was on his face.

"Hey!" Morris said, almost taking offence. But smiling back at him anyway. "On the way you can buy me a large coffee as thanks. I'm starting to have withdrawal from having a lack of caffeine."

"Now that sounds like a proper plan!" Anderson said getting up and getting ready to leave.

He didn't know if this would get them anywhere, but at least it was something. Something more then they had twenty minutes ago anyway. Anderson opened the car door and got in. Morris getting in the passenger side for a change, and they headed off for bay view.

Just behind the house was a wood. Even in daylight it was dark. It was only a small patch really, and often you would find children playing hide and seek. Today, mainly thanks to the amount of activity going on at number 23, the woods were empty. Except for one. In the darkness you could just make out the end of his cigarette glowing every time he inhaled. Nobody had noticed the birds had stopped singing, and everywhere was quiet.
Stan had been watching. He had been watching and smiling. More then that. He had been listening. Walking back to his truck he smiled. When it got dark he would construct his master piece of art. Everything he needed was in the back. This was going to be fun!