As the shots died down, their echoes were replaced by the terrified screams of the three helpless naked men. Miraculously they were still alive.

‘Shut the fuck up!’ Jerome blasted in a heated voice, turning his Uzi towards them.

‘Chill, nigga!’ D-King shouted, aiming his shotgun at the newly revealed door. ‘They’re no threat to us. Check him,’ he gestured towards the semi-mutilated intruder.

Warren was still on the floor, his hands and shirt covered in blood.

Hunter was also up on his feet with his gun in hand. ‘OK everyone, put your guns down.’

D-King’s aim moved from the door to Hunter as did Jerome’s. ‘This ain’t the time for this kind of crap, Detective, there could still be more people hiding in that room. I ain’t got no beef with you, not yet, but if I have to I will gun you down like a dirty dawg. Remember, you’re still outnumbered and outgunned.’

Hunter’s aim stayed on D-King. The trigger mechanism on Hunter’s Wildey Survivor pistol had been modified to lighter than normal. That, coupled with the knowledge that the average trigger resistance on a double-barreled shotgun is about half a pound heavier than most pistols, meant Hunter knew he could squeeze a shot out at least a second faster than D-King could. On the other hand, Jerome with his Uzi would pose a bigger problem. But they weren’t the enemy. Hunter wasn’t about to start another gunfight. And he sure wasn’t about to risk getting shot on behalf of the three naked scumbags in the room. He moved his aim away from D-King.

‘OK, let’s secure this place.’

‘Warren, talk to me, how’re you doing, buddy? Are you hit?’ D-King called out without diverting his attention from his primary target.

Like a wounded animal Warren emitted a loud growl indicating he was still alive.

‘This one is dead,’ Jerome announced, standing over the lifeless body by the new door.

D-King turned his attention back to the three tied-up men. ‘Anyone else where that motherfucker came from?’

No reply.

‘Anyone else in that room?’ he asked, pressing the barrels of his shotgun against the tattooed man’s head.

‘No.’ The answer finally came from the shortest of the three.

D-King nodded at Jerome who slotted a new clip onto his Uzi and very cautiously stepped into the new room. ‘We’re clear here,’ he called out after a few seconds.

‘I’ve gotta check on Warren. Jerome, keep your gun on Hunter.’

Jerome turned and aimed the Uzi at Hunter who returned the favor.

D-King placed his shotgun on the floor and rushed to Warren’s side.

‘OK, let me take a look. Move your hands.’

Warily Warren removed his bloody hands from his face. D-King wiped some of the blood away with his shirt in an attempt to get a better look. He saw two large cuts – one on Warren’s forehead and the other on his left cheek.

‘No bullets,’ D-King said after a quick examination. ‘You weren’t hit by bullets. It looks like shrapnel from the walls. You’ll live.’ He took off his shirt and placed it in Warren’s hands. ‘Here, just keep pressure over the wounds.’

‘Boss, you gotta come and have a look at this.’

Something in Jerome’s voice worried D-King.

‘What is it?’

‘You have to see it for yourself.’

Sixty-Four

D-King picked up his shotgun and approached Jerome by the open door. He stood rigid. His eyes carefully scanning the new room. ‘What the fuck?’ he whispered,. ‘Hunter, come and have a look at this.’

Hunter cautiously joined them.

The new room was in much better shape than the one they were in. The ceiling had been painted blue and decorated with what looked like a million fluorescent stars. The walls were even more colorful, displaying a tremendous variety of drawings – dragons, wizards, horses, leprechauns… On the far wall a series of wooden shelves held an impressive collection of toys – dolls, cars, action figures with even more toys scattered all over the floor. A large rocking horse sat to the left of the door. Against the west wall a video camera had been placed on a tripod.

Hunter felt his chest knot around his heart. His eyes left the room and rested on D-King’s baffled face.

‘Kids,’ Hunter whispered. The anger in his voice as clear as a loud shout.

D-King’s eyes seemed glued to the room’s decoration. It took him another thirty seconds to face Hunter. ‘Kids?’ D-King’s voice trailed off. ‘Kids?’ This time a powerful cry as he stormed back into the first room. The sadness inside him had been replaced by pure rage.

‘This is fucked up, man,’ Jerome said, shaking his head.

‘You do this to kids? What kind of sick fucks are you?’ D-King demanded standing before the three bound men. His bravado met with silence, his eyes met by no one.

Hunter’s stare rested on the three naked men. He simply didn’t care anymore.

‘Let me tell you something, Detective Hunter.’ D-King’s voice quivered with anger. ‘I grew up on the streets. I’ve dealt with scum my whole life. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt is that out here we have our own way of dealing with things. Most motherfuckers aren’t scared of getting caught. Prison is like holiday camp. It’s their home away from home. In there they’ve got their gangs, their drugs and their bitches. It ain’t much different from outside. But they’d shit a brick if they thought street-law was knocking on their fucking door. Out here we’re the jury, the judge and the executioner. This doesn’t concern you or your law. They’ll pay for what they’ve done to Jenny and you ain’t coming between me and them.’

There was more to it than rage. Hunter knew he’d been right. To D-King Jenny had been a lot more than just one of the girls.

Hunter turned to face the three men tied to the metal chairs. They stared back at him with insolent smiles, like they knew he had to take them in, it was protocol, it was what cops had to do.

Hunter felt tired. He’d had enough. He wasn’t even supposed to be there. This had nothing to do with the Crucifix Killer. This was D-King’s problem.

‘Fuck protocol,’ Hunter whispered. ‘I was never here.’

D-King gave him a quick nod and watched as Hunter holstered his weapon and silently made for the door.

‘Wait!’ the tattooed man shouted. ‘You can’t just walk away. You’re a fucking cop. How about our human rights?’

Hunter didn’t stop. He didn’t even look back as he closed the door behind him.

‘Rights?’ D-King asked with an animated laugh. ‘We’ll give you your rights… your last rites.’

‘What do we do about this place… and them,’ Jerome tilted his head towards the men in the first room.

‘Torch the place, but we’ll take them with us. We still gotta get the name of their ringleader out of them.’

‘Do you think they’ll talk?’

‘Oh they’ll talk, I promise you. If it’s sodomizing pain they’re into, we’ll give it to them… over a ten-day period.’ The evil smile on D-King’s lips made even Jerome shudder.

Back in his car Hunter stared at his shaking hands, struggling with an agonizing and uneasy feeling. He was a detective. He was supposed to uphold the law and he’d just disregarded it. His heart told him he’d done the right thing, but his conscience didn’t agree. D-King’s words still echoed in his ears. Out here we’re the jury, the judge and the executioner. Suddenly Hunter stopped breathing.

‘That’s it,’ he said in a trembling voice. ‘That’s where I know him from.’

Sixty-Five

With his heart thumping violently against his chest, Hunter made his way back to the RHD as fast as he could. He needed to check some old records.

As he entered his office he was glad it was on a separate floor to all the other detectives. He needed to do this alone, no disturbances. He locked the door behind him and fired up his computer.

‘Be right… be right…’ he said to himself as he accessed the California Department of Justice databank. Hunter quickly typed in the name he wanted to search for, selected the criteria and hit the ‘search’ button. As the Department of Justice data server went to work, he sat still staring anxiously at the little dot moving back and forth on the screen. The seconds seemed like minutes.