Nightmare in Red (Nick McCarty #5)
Bernard Lee DeLeo
Chapter One
Ripper Redo
Gerald Kensky smiled. The ‘Seattle Ripper’ sat waiting patiently as the judge read a list of discrepancies in the evidence chain of custody, the death of Dan Lewis who was a major prosecution witness, and the disallowing of US Marshal Nicholas McCarty’s testimony. His lawyer, Benjamin Brock, had also discredited the prostitute’s testimony, because Lewis was dead, and McCarty was denied the right to testify. Sarah Burns made his heart race. He didn’t know when, but she would be his after they let him go. Kensky stood at the court command, his huge figure frightening to many in the courtroom, even dressed in a suit. They all knew he did the killings. Thanks to the audio file recording his admission at the scene of being the ‘Ripper’ and acknowledging the trophies no one knew about, there was no doubt in any of the courtroom audience’s minds Kensky was the ‘Ripper’. The fact an FBI Agent had mishandled evidence chain of custody, causing the case disintegration, cast shadows over the entire procedure. Kaitlin Anderson, the FBI Agent at fault, was relieved of duty pending dismissal.
Kensky listened to the announcement of his release while trying to take the weight off his right artificial foot. The artificial right hand apparatus caused him discomfort too when trying to shift weight balance. The smile fled from his face when remembering the incredible pain from the .50 caliber hollow point sniper rifle bullets tearing the two limbs off. McCarty. Soon, Gerald thought, I will kill everything the sniping son-of-a-bitch ever associated with, starting with his wife, stepdaughter, baby son, and even their dog. No matter how long it took him, McCarty would pay dearly for what he had done. At the end of the dismissal, loud angry cries echoed out in the courtroom. His lawyer Brock patted Kensky’s shoulder.
“Congratulations, Gerald. You are a free man.”
“Thank you, Ben. Will you walk me out?”
“Of course. There will be jackals in the media hounding you everywhere. It will be difficult for a time. It may be in your best interest to stay out of sight for a while. You own a place in Everett, a bit north of Seattle, right?”
“Yes. I’ve decided it would be an excellent place for me to stay a while. You will be pursuing these people who maimed and tortured me, won’t you?”
Brock cringed. “Please don’t mention that in public, Gerald. We may need time between your release and our civil suit. Nick McCarty is not without resources. Right now public opinion is against you. In time, when some of the facts in the case fade from the public memory we’ll be able to exploit your injuries at the hands of law enforcement zealots.”
Kensky leaned down, while order in the courtroom was restored. Shouted epithets rained down on defense table occupants. “Why would we care about McCarty?”
Brock lowered his voice so only his client could hear. “All of his testimony would be allowed along with documentary evidence in a civil trial. We need to wait until we have a better chance of winning.”
“Damn him!” Brock seethed with an uncontrollable need to lash out. “I was tortured and mutilated… and for what? Just because I-”
Brock gripped Kensky’s arm. “Don’t say it, Gerald. Remember our talk. Let’s go out front now. We’ll talk with the media just as we rehearsed. Don’t let them draw you into a discussion of testimony and evidence banned from the trial. Stick with only repeating that you were tortured and mutilated. Add in that your life is in a shambles because of what law enforcement did in ignoring your rights.”
Kensky nodded. He had nearly allowed the pain from his missing appendages to cause an outburst of guilt. The inner raging hatred for McCarty colored his every action. He remembered every second of his ordeal when McCarty had used old man Lewis and the whore to entrap him. The shock of seeing McCarty’s illegal hollow point .50 caliber bullet blow his right hand off at the wrist as he prepared to fire on Lewis haunted his every thought. Then to relive enduring the next moment on the ground while having his right ankle exploded through by two more rounds made him grip the defense table in closed eyed fury. Brock patted his hand.
“C’mon, Gerald. Are you okay to do this? I can get you out of here through the back and meet with the press another day.”