The Night School Strangler

Chapter 1

Mark Sanger left his last class of the evening. He had been going to night school for a while now. Looking back, he wondered why he was not sitting in a prison somewhere in California. Actually, he knew he did not have to question why he wasn't. One man alone had turned the course of his life around. Sanger had been in and out of trouble. Ironside had caught him and sent him up. No that was not actually true, and Mark knew it. Ironside had recommended him for counseling and community service. But it was definitely Robert Ironside that was responsible for the man Mark was becoming.

When Chief Ironside had insisted that he go to school, Mark had fought him on it. It was to no avail as his boss had once stated he had the right to not want ignorant people around him. Sanger had never had the desire to go to school. He barely made it through high school, where he spent most of his time in trouble and in the principal's office.

After high school, Mark had a hard time finding a job. He realized now it was mostly because of his attitude. He had so much hate for what he called the establishment. They all tried to keep him down, or so he thought.

When he came to San Francisco from the streets of Chicago, he never dreamed he would run into someone who would display any interest in him as a human being. Mark had not realized the hate that had built up inside of him. Then a life changing event happened. Sergeant Ed Brown had come to his cell at police headquarters and told him Chief Ironside wanted to see him. Sanger had no idea why and he did not care. He hated the detective. He was responsible for him going to jail. He wanted nothing to do with him, nothing. But as fate would have it, Mark would indeed go up to Ironside's office and see him. It had turned out that Ironside knew Mark better than he did himself.

The chief had dropped his pistol on the floor. He had not been in the wheelchair that long and had not yet mastered how to handle things he had dropped. After unsuccessfully trying to pick it up with a cane, Ironside challenged Mark over his hatred of him. Mark had told him he hated him enough to shoot him ten times over. The chief told him his chance was on the floor.

Mark did not believe that the detective would allow him to pick up a loaded gun, so in order to call what he thought was Ironside's bluff, he picked up the gun and shot it at the window. The bullet put a hole right through it. Shocked that it had been loaded, Mark was told by the chief he had twenty-four hours to pay for the window and the bullet. When he showed up the next day without the money, Mark had expected Ironside to arrest him, instead he offered Mark a job as his aide. Not wanting to take the job, but with nowhere else to go he accepted.

Sanger had not planned on sticking around very long, only long enough until he could find something else. That was before he found himself treated with respect by Robert Ironside and for the first time in his life, he felt a sense of belonging.

Today, Mark was studying to be a lawyer. He knew the boss wanted him to become a cop, but Mark's interest was in the law. He worked hard at his school work and was receiving excellent grades. Sanger had come to not only respect the detective, but now considered him his closest friend. No one before him had ever helped him. Because of Ironside, he had lost most of the hatred and anger. He had a goal and a reason for being.

Mark left the building and was headed for the van when he noticed a commotion between the buildings. Curiosity got the better of him and he headed in the direction of the gathered crowd. Making his way through the people that were standing around, he came to the front of the group. There laying on the ground was a girl of about twenty or so. She was laying in a pool of blood with a wire around her neck. Since coming to work for the chief, he had seen enough dead bodies to know the girl was indeed dead.

When he spotted Lieutenant Carl Reese, he motioned him over to him. Reese finished barking out orders and then headed Mark's way. "Hello, Mark. I would have thought you would have been on your way back to the chief's quarters by now."

"I was headed to the van when I saw the crowd. What happened?" he asked, although it was quite obvious.

"One of the students, she was murdered," Reese said.

"How did you end up with the investigation? I thought you mostly handled the drug scene."

"Just lucky I guess," Reese said. "Besides, these days I never know where I am going to be working. I am actually assigned to homicide, but get called into Narcotics and of course, your boss drags me into his investigations."

"Any idea who did it?" Mark asked.

"Not yet, but we have not been on the job that long. Do you happen to know who the girl is?"

"I have seen her around the campus, but no, I don't know her name. You might try the guy in the gray sweater over there. I have seen him with her quite often," Mark told him.

Reese glanced in the direction Sanger was looking and immediately spotted the man he had indicated. "Thanks, Mark. Say hello to the chief for me."

"Will do." Sanger turned and made his way back through the crowd. He wondered who had killed the girl and why. Shaking his head, he realized the chief was rubbing off on him. This was a job for homicide, it was nothing he had to concern himself with.

He reached the chief's van, unlocked the door on the driver's side and got in. After starting up the engine, he headed out into the street for Police Headquarters where he now resided with Chief Robert Ironside.

xxxx

He stood there among the crowd of students watching the police. The girl laid there with the wire around her neck. Her eyes were staring straight ahead. Blood pooled under her neck where the wire had ripped into the skin. She deserved to die. They all deserved to die. Women had no business going to school. They should not even appear in public. It should not be permitted. They were not any good for anything except having male babies. They would be punished. He would see to it. They deserved it. He hated them, they were so inferior to men. He just could not understand why everyone else couldn't see it.

He noticed a young black man leaving the scene. He had seen that guy somewhere before, he was sure of it. Where? He tried to jog his memory, but could not place him. He had been talking to the detective in charge. Was he a cop as well? He did not cross the police tape. If he were a cop, wouldn't he just have joined the others?

He had to find out who he was. He did not like surprises and the man reeked of surprise. Just who was he? He left the crowd and headed in the direction he had seen the man go. He arrived in time to watch him drive away in a van. He knew he had seen him in that van before, but when? Then it hit him! Ironside! The man worked for Chief Robert Ironside.

What was he doing at the scene of his work? Would he go back and tell Ironside? Maybe that wasn't as bad as he thought. Would Ironside decide to come into the investigation? He did not think so, unless his aid convinced him to.

None of it mattered. He had eliminated his first woman. She deserved it for trying to act like a man. Going to school... that was for men only. He would rid this school of the females that had the nerve to enroll. For now, his work was done here and he was tired. He would go home for rest. He would return tomorrow night. There were plenty of women breaking rules the minute they came out in public. The law said so. His law.

He turned away from where the van had sped down the street and headed in the opposite direction. Tomorrow another would pay.

xxxx

Mark pulled the van into the police garage. After shutting off the engine, he got out of the vehicle and headed for the elevator that would take him to the floor where Robert T Ironside resided, as that is where Mark also lived. When he reached the elevator, Mark pressed the button for the chief's office and rode the elevator up. Walking up the ramp, Mark entered the office. His boss was watching a baseball game on the television.

Ironside turned around to see who had just entered, although he was sure it would be Mark. He usually arrived back about this time. "Good evening, Mark. How did the classes go?"

"Alright. More lecturing on the due process of law."

"Boring, huh?" Ironside said.

"You could say that." Mark headed into the kitchen, reached into the cupboard and pulled down two glasses. He then pulled out a bottle of bourbon. He walked back to where Ironside was watching the ballgame and handed him a glass. After pouring him a drink, he did the same for himself and sat down. "Whose winning?"

"The Giants, eleven to ten," Ironside responded.

"That must be some wild game," Mark surmised.

"The pitchers on both teams can't seem to get anyone out." He reached over and turned the set off.

Surprised, Mark asked, "Aren't you going to watch the end of it?"

"End of it? It is only in the third inning," Ironside complained.

"With that score?"

"With that score. I told you the pitchers can't get anyone out."

"By the end of the game the score is going to resemble a football game," Mark said.

"Okay, what is it?" Ironside set his glass on the table beside them.

"What is what?" Mark answered with a question of his own. He did not know why he did it because something was bothering him, and his boss could always tell.

Ironside gave him one of those don't insult my intelligence look, but said nothing.

"A woman was murdered on campus tonight," Mark finally told him.

"Murder? Who was she?"

"I don't know. Carl did not have her identified yet."

"Carl is handling the investigation then?" Ironside asked, but it was more of a statement then a question. "They could not have a better man on the case. How was she killed?"

"Looks like she was strangled, Chief, with a wire."

"Did anyone hear or see anything?"

"I don't know, I did not hang around to find out anymore than I just told you."

Ironside opened the drawer on the coffee table beside them. He pulled out a chess set, placed it in his lap and wheeled toward the table. "Come on, Mark, it is time for another lesson in humility."

"You think so? How do you know I won't beat you this time?"

Ironside turned his chair towards his aid and gave him one of those looks. "When was the last time you beat me?"

"I haven't, but I will... someday."

"That'll be the day," Ironside barked as he set up the chess board.

"I thought you were going out to dinner with Katherine tonight?"

Ironside was a very private man and his relationship with Katherine fell into that privacy. He did not answer Mark. After the board was set up, the chief nodded at Mark to begin. Sanger immediately moved out a pawn and waited for his boss to make the same move. They always started that way. It would be the last time in the game that they would be even.

Ironside studied the board and made his move. Mark immediately moved another of his pieces. The chief shook his head. "Do you ever think about a move before you make it?"

"I made the move I wanted to make," Mark countered.

Again, Ironside took his time and moved one of his chess pieces. "Your move."

And again, Mark moved a piece immediately. His boss let out a sigh of exasperation. "Mark, you did not think that through. You should be anticipating what move I am going to make next."

"You expect me to know what you are going to do? How long have I lived here? I still don't know what you are going to do three quarters of the time."

Ironside moved his queen and said, "Check and mate."

Mark looked at the board, he could not move his king out of danger. He was beaten, as usual. He did not know why he bothered to play the game with his boss. He always beat him in three or four moves. "How about a nice game of checkers?"

Ironside just shook his head. "I am going to bed. Goodnight, Mark."

"Do you need help?" Sanger shouted after him.

"No, I can handle it myself," Ironside called over his shoulder.

Mark watched as he disappeared into his bedroom. He collected the pieces to the chess game and put them back in the box. After putting it in the drawer of the end table, Mark went into his bedroom.

He got out of his clothes, picked up one of his school books and began to study. He could not keep his mind on his school work. The vision of the dead girl was haunting him. He did not understand why it was bothering him so. He had seen other dead women, and men for that matter. Why was this one on his mind? He could not get the picture of that girl laying there with a wire around her neck out of his mind. Maybe it was because it happened at the college. He had made a lot of female friends, one in particular. He had met Kimberly Gilmore in his current law class. She was beautiful, intelligent and fun to be with. After several classes with her in the seat next to his, Mark had decided to ask her out, and she had accepted.

Kimberly had not been able to attend class tonight. Some family function had kept her away. Mark was to share his notes and go over the class with her tomorrow night. He was looking forward to seeing her. He hoped that they would have many more study nights together. Maybe he could not keep the image of the murdered girl out of his mind because if things had been different, it could have been Kimberly, and not Jane Doe who was laying their with a wire around her neck.

After an hour of being unable to recall a single thing he had read, Mark decided it was a waste of time and sleep to continue. He might as well shut off the light and try to get some shut-eye. He never knew when the boss would wake him up in the middle of the night to work out some aspect of a case by running it by him.

xxxx

The yellow ball of fire in the sky was roaring into Chief Ironside's room. He awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside his bedroom window. For years his bed had been in the main part of the office space. It was Eve's idea that they move it into one of the many rooms that were attached to his office. Commissioner Randall had gone to the city counsel, and they were forthcoming with the funds to remodel the room into a bedroom.

It was actually a much better arrangement and it gave Ironside some privacy, especially those days when he was sick in bed. He did not have to be on display for those who came into the office for one reason or another.

Ironside had become rather independent despite his disability. He reached for his wheelchair which was within reach. Sometimes Mark took it upon himself to decide that the chief needed more sleep. He would push his chair out of his reach, which only resulted in Ironside yelling for Mark to come get him out of bed.

After putting on his robe with some difficulty, Ironside used the bars above him to lower his body into the chair. Wheeling into the main room, he did not see Mark anywhere. The door to his room was still closed. He decided not to disturb him, and went directly into the bathroom to take a shower and shave. Twenty minutes later he was leaving the bathroom. Still, Mark had not gotten up. He wondered if the young man was not feeling well.

Heading back to his bedroom, Ironside chose a suit, shirt, tie and socks, then pulled under clothing out of the dresser drawer. It was never easy for him to dress on his own but over the years he had learn the easiest way to maneuver his body to pull the clothing over his lower torso.

When he left his room fully clothed, Mark was at the stove fixing breakfast. Ironside wheeled over to the table without taking his eyes off of his friend. "Are you alright this morning, Mark?"

Sanger turned around to face the chief. "I am fine, Chief. Sorry, I forgot to set an alarm."

Ironside studied the young man for signs he wasn't being forthcoming with him, but Mark had somewhat learned his technique for keeping a poker face. He was a bit harder to read than he had been when he came to work for the detective. He decided to let it go and not pry, Mark would come to him if something was bothering him.

Sergeant Ed Brown and Officer Eve Whitfield came down the ramp and joined them at the table. Mark brought over coffee for them and the chief. He returned to the kitchenette and carried pancakes and sausages to the boss. After setting it down in front of Ironside, he began drinking his coffee.

Ironside eyed his aid with puzzlement. "Aren't you having breakfast this morning?"

Mark looked up from his coffee. "I am not hungry."

"Any particular reason?" Ironside asked.

"Nope, I am just not hungry."

The chief dropped the subject as the opening he gave Mark did not seem to entice him to speak up. "Well, where are we on finding the man who robbed the Wells Fargo Bank?"

"Believe it or not, Chief," Eve said, "everyone gave the exact same description. There were fifteen people that saw him."

"That's a switch, we usually get fifteen different descriptions," Ironside said as he ate another mouthful of pancakes. "What about his accomplice?"

"Same thing. All of them gave the same description," Eve reported.

"How much was the take?" the chief asked.

"About a hundred and fifty thousand dollars," Ed replied.

"About?" Ironside questioned, sarcastically.

"One-hundred-fifty-thousand dollars," Ed said, stating it as a fact instead of a guess as he knew it must have sounded to the chief.

"Anyone see the getaway car?" Ironside inquired. He noticed Mark was not paying much attention to the conversation, which was unusual for him. He turned his attention back to Brown.

"We got a partial description. It was a Chevrolet pick-up truck, dark gray in color. It had a sticker on the back of the window, but no one could tell us what it said."

"Okay, keep working on it. I have to go to the commissioner's office for a meeting. Check back with me later in the day."

Eve and Ed got up to leave the office. Ironside stopped them as they reached the top. "Not you, Eve. I need you to drive me."

Mark perked up when he heard that. "I can drive you and it is my job."

"You are going to study. Don't you have mid-term exams coming up?" Ironside questioned.

"Yea, but I can still drive you."

"No, you study. Eve can drive me." He said it with such finality that Mark decided it was pointless to argue with him.

Ed headed out of the office followed by Eve and the chief. When they reached Ironside's van, he said, "You drive." The chief pushed the button to the lift. The door opened and the tray dropped to the ground. He backed his chair onto it and again pushed the button, lifting him into the air. Ironside wheeled off the tray and into the van.

Eve was already in the driver's seat. "Okay, Chief, do you want to tell me what this is all about?"

Ironside gave her one of those innocent looks he was so easily able to produce. "I don't know what you mean."

"It was obvious to me you did not want Mark to know where you were going. Are we going to the commissioner's office or not?"

"We are but first I want to make a visit to Carl Reese. He should be over at the college."

Eve shook her head. "No he isn't. He is in his office and planned on being there all morning."

Ironside looked at his officer with a frown. "Are you sure of that?"

"Ed and I ran into him on the way up to the office. He told us as much."

Robert Ironside wheeled back into the lift. When he saw that Eve was not making any effort to move, he grumbled, "Well, are you just going to sit there, Officer Whitfield?"

Eve immediately got out of the vehicle. By the time she reached the other side, Ironside was already out of the van and pushing the button to return the lift's tray into the vehicle. She stepped behind his wheelchair and began pushing the detective back to the elevator. Once inside, Eve pushed the button for the floor Carl work on.

Ironside wheeled down the hall towards Carl's office. Eve removed her hands from his chair as he seemed determined to wheel himself. When they arrived at the large room where many detectives worked, they headed for the back where Carl had an office to himself. Carl was on the phone. The chief knocked on the door, and Reese waved him in. A couple minutes later the lieutenant ended his conversation and turned to Ironside.

"What can I do for you, Chief. I assume this is not a social call," Reese said.

"It is not, but it is unofficial," the chief told him. That caught Eve's attention. She looked over at her boss wondering what he was up to. She would have to wait and see.

"You are assigned to the campus murder of the female student?"

"Yes, Chief." Reese lowered his brow in suspicion. "Are you taking it over?"

Ironside waved his hand. "Of course not. You are perfectly capable of handling it. Any suspects?"

"Not yet. She was discovered by another student. She had been strangled by a wire."

"Any other marks on the body indicating a struggle?"

"None, except for the bruising on her fingers. She probably was trying to loosen the wire around her neck," Reese surmised.

"That's logical. Have we identified her yet?" Ironside asked.

Eve noted very quickly that the chief had purposely, or at least she thought it was purposely, used the word we. She wondered how long it would be before the chief dragged them into it. She also wondered why he was interested in the first place. Then it hit her! "Chief, are you thinking this could be the first of more murders to come? Do you think we are dealing with a serial killer?"

"Come on, Eve. We have had one murder," Carl said. "One murder is not an indication of a serial killer."

"No, it isn't," Ironside agreed. "However, it is not something we can rule out. Back to my question, who is she and was she a student at the college?"

"Yes, she was a student at the college. Her name was Melinda Mitchell. She had been waiting on tables at a local restaurant, putting herself through night school."

"Do you have anything else?" Ironside asked.

"Chief, give me a break, I was just assigned the case last night," a frustrated detective grumbled.

"Alright, Carl, keep me informed."

"Then you are coming in on the investigation?"

"No, just keep me informed."

Carl nodded. "Okay, I will."

Ironside turned his chair around and wheeled out of Carl's office. Eve hurried to catch up with him.