The Susan Syndrome

Table of Contents

The Susan Syndrome

The Susan Syndrome

June 7, 2013

Lake Chepachet

Detective Harry Miller wiped the perspiration from his brow and moved a little closer to the water’s edge, where the Coroner was hauling the remains of Ralph McPherson out of Lake Chepachet. Miller’s partner, Detective Mike Ferguson, looked on in boredom as he picked at a pizza stain on his tie.

Got another one, Miller sighed. That’s 16 in 8 months.

Yeah, Ferguson said absentmindedly. Busy, whoever he is.

Same M.O. every time. Paralyzed with a massive shot of Pancuronium, then death by drowning.

Stuff works fast, too, Ferguson nodded. They use that for lethal injections. 60 seconds and you can’t even move. Lasts 3 hours. That gives him plenty of time to get  to his favorite dumping grounds. He could be anywhere.

Or she, Miller grinned. Maybe it’s a woman.

Nah, Ferguson said with a wave of his hand. I doubt it. Girls kill their abusive husbands or boyfriends. They’ll set you on fire in the middle of the night, but they usually  don’t do shit like this.

I guess not, Miller said. The Coroner was finished with his work. He came over to the two detectives.

Tagged and bagged, he said. You’ll have my report in 24 hours. Might as well take the last report and enter the new dude’s name when you ID him. Looks like the same thing all over again.

Yeah, Miller sighed, looking around. He noticed a series of small cottages on the other side of the lake, some 200 yards away. At one of them, a brunette  sat on her porch, munching away at a bag of what appeared to be potato chips. She was watching them. Hey, I never noticed those cottages before. There’s somebody outside, maybe she saw something. You guys hang here and look around. I’m going to take a ride over there. Ten minutes later, Miller pulled into the woman’s driveway. She just sat there staring at him as he got out of the cruiser.

Hi, he smiled, showing his credentials. Detective Harry Miller. And you are?"

Sorrentino, the woman said in a cold voice. Susan Sorrentino. She put the bag of chips down and glared at him malevolently. The look was quite unnerving.

Nice to uh, meet you. Do you live here year round?

Why? she said quietly, her dead eyes boring into his own. Something inside him made his thoughts drift to his sidearm, but he pushed the idea away and continued the questioning.

We’re doing a murder investigation over on the other side. Apparently the victim was dumped in the lake within the last 24 hours.

Oh great, she sighed. Just what I need. I buy a cottage in the middle of nowhere, and now I find out there is a murderer loose.

Well, we’re doing everything we can to apprehend him. You didn’t answer my question. Do you live here year round?

June through October, she said.

Oh, must be nice to have money, he laughed.

I work, she said; suddenly her demeanor was all sweetness and light.

Oh. What do you do?

I do physical therapy.

Where do you live the rest of the year?

What difference does that make? she said suspiciously, tilting her head slightly to one side; suddenly the cold look returned. The transformation was alarming and made Miller take a step back.

Just routine questions. Don’t take offense. I could run your plate, you know.

Walpole, she said evenly. Near Boston.

I know where it is. You have a good view from here. Did you see anything out of the ordinary in the last day or two?

Nope, she chirped, and picked up the bag again. Want a chip?

No thanks. He turned around and waved to Ferguson. Behind his back, the woman stuck  her tongue out at him and gave him the finger. He turned back to her and she was smiling at him again.

It’s rather quiet here, are you sure you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary? Cars at odd times of night, anything like that?"

That’s a public boat ramp over there, she said, pointing across the lake. People are in and out of there at all crazy hours. Kids go there at night too, to smoke pot and fool around.

So you saw nothing, then.

Right. I assume you are going to protect us.

We’ll put on some extra patrols. But we don’t think he’s working this area. None of the victims are from around here.

Great. Now I have to sleep inside and keep all the doors and windows locked.

That would be advisable.

Are you sure this was a murder? We have a lot of boating accidents on this lake.

This was no boating accident, Miller said. Jaws reference aside, boating accident victims are not sunk in a lake with cinder blocks tied to their feet.

I suppose not, Susan said, eyeing Miller up and down. I wonder how many it would take to keep you down.  Well, if that’s all you want from me, I have some chores to do.

Sure. Thanks for the help. He turned and walked to his car; he felt her cold eyes boring through him every step of the way. When he got to the driver’s door he looked back at the porch. She was gone. He started the car and drove away.

She see anything? Ferguson said as Miller walked over to him.

No, Miller said, looking across the lake. The woman was back in her chair, staring across the lake at them. She had something in her lap, but he couldn’t tell what it was. She didn’t see anything.

You look like you just saw a ghost, Ferguson laughed.

Yeah. Maybe I did at that. Let’s get back to the office.

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June 7, 2013

Glocester Police Department

How’d it go? Chief Donahue  asked absentmindedly as he thumbed through a boating magazine.

It didn’t, Miller said as he tossed his preliminary report onto the Chief’s desk. Same as the other 15. No clues, no witnesses, no nothing.

No tire tracks?

Sure. About a zillion of them. It’s a public boat ramp.

Well, that’s no good, the Chief said. The state can handle it. All we have to do is wait for the guy to show up again. Then we can bag him. Drowning people  in our lake is illegal, the Chief said sternly. I think. I’ll check with the town attorney, although I should think that would be illegal.

I’m sure it is, Miller sighed as he watched the pathetic political appointee who passed for a Chief of Police thumb through his magazine. I have to go see if there is anything from toxicology.

Good idea! the Chief smiled. You do that.

Miller turned and headed for his desk. He stopped at the doorway, something nagging at him. It was something dark and secretive, and it made him shiver. A river of black hell suddenly gushed through his mind and he almost fainted. He grabbed the door and shook his head.

You okay, Miller? The Chief said.

Yeah, I think so, Miller said. The feeling had disappeared as quickly as it had come, and he couldn’t remember when or why it had started. Must be the heat. Oh, by the way, do you know a woman named Sorrentino? She lives on the lake in the summer.

Her? I’ve seen her in town a few times. Kind of quiet, but seems very nice. Why?

I interviewed her today, Miller said. Thought she might have seen something. Her place faces the dock. That’s all, just curious. Bit of an odd sort. 

––––––––

June 7, 2013

Lake Chepachet

Susan finished the incantation and opened her safe. She put the thing that had been in her lap into a black velvet bag, tied it shut, and gently put it into the little vault. She closed the safe door and spun the lock. It moved. I know it did. Jesus, she whispered, and wiped her face. If that thing ever gets loose.... She walked to the door, badly weakened by what she had just done. It was clouding up quickly, and lightning was flickering across the lake. The wind picked up, and a strange, faint howling could be heard in the distance.

Now we’ll see about you, Detective Harry Miller, she whispered, a strange smile playing at her lips. She went onto the porch and collapsed into her chair, all kinds of terrible images flashing through her mind. Stop, she whispered, and the images went away. She put her face into her hands and began to weep.

June 8, 2013

The Olde Tavern, Worcester, Massachusetts

Susan ordered a Jameson on the rocks. Nobody paid any particular attention to her despite the way she was dressed; they all dressed like that. The desperate housewives with bad marriages, the lonely, single girls who had bad marriages behind them, the single young girls looking for  their first ex-husband or next ex-boyfriend. She sat down at a table where the bartender couldn’t see her, and waited. She didn’t have to wait long.

She was wearing  a gray leather mini skirt, a $400.00 pair of Gucci ankle strap pumps, and a white tank top that accented her excellent figure. Her dark hair framed a soft face with perfect makeup and tantalizing red lipstick. Her tanned, smooth legs were well displayed for all to see.

Suddenly, there he was; the typical married loser trolling for a quickie. He was wearing a business suit with his tie loosened and it was 6 O’clock, so he obviously hadn’t gone home yet. None of them ever do. They go to a bar and hope they’ll get lucky, then  they go home. He did three shots of cheap whiskey at the bar and looked around. Then he looked at her. Come on, said the spider to the fly. He smiled, and she smiled back and bobbed her foot up and down. He looked her up and down, ordered a double, and got off his stool. That’s it, take the bait. Wait until you see what’s on the other end of the hook.

He came over to her table and gestured towards her legs with his drink. He kept his left hand hidden, like they all did, so she wouldn’t see where the wedding ring had been. You rotten no good bastard. You  do this to a nice woman like your wife who’s waiting home for you and cooked you a nice supper? You wait until you see what you get now. She’ll be better off without you. Maybe then she’ll have a  chance to find a good man.

Nice, he leered, pointing at her skirt. I’m Larry. Those legs would look great wrapped around me. So would a burial shroud. Mind if I join you?

Please do, she said. I’m Susan. Do you believe in the hereafter?

What’s that?

If you’re not here after what I’m here after, you’ll be here after I’m gone.

Oh, I assure you I’m here after that, he laughed, nodding at her lush figure. Where are you from?

Heaven, she grinned. I’m to die for. And you’ll soon get the chance.

You’re hot, he laughed. And  funny. I like funny girls.

I’m funny how, she frowned, a vicious, awful look coming over her face. The way I talk? I’m a clown, I amuse you? Funny how? She leaned forward,  hatred and violence radiating from her. Suddenly it clicked in his alcohol soaked, cheating mind.

I get it! he roared. Goodfellas. That was great. You almost had me there."

You have a good mind for movies, she said, leaning back. She stretched mightily, displaying more of her charms than he could have hoped for. My neck hurts, she said. Maybe you can massage it for me later. Here, she said, pushing her empty glass towards him. Jameson on the rocks. Then we’re going to my place. I have a cottage on a lake.

You got it, baby, he said, and lurched to his feet, leaving an awful smell behind him mixed of sweat, cheap cologne, and an unwashed body cloaked in dirty clothes. He went to the bar and quickly downed three more shots, signed his tab, then returned with her drink, which she bolted down immediately.

Let’s go. Are you ready to handle me?

I’m ready, he slurred. Let’s do it.

You leave first, she said. I’m married, and I don’t want anybody to see me leave with anybody. I’ll be out in about five minutes.  Susan waited after Larry left, wiped her glass for prints, and went out a different exit. Outside, she pointed to her nondescript Toyota. Let’s take my car, she cooed. The neighbors talk when they see a strange car in my driveway. I like my privacy.

Sure, he hiccupped, and climbed into the passenger’s seat. Susan went to the driver’s door, opened it, and clicked the door lock button. She leaned into the car and frowned.

I forgot my bag, she sighed, reaching behind the driver’s seat. I have to go back inside. I’ll be right back.

Okay, he grinned, his good sense overpowered by her beauty. He never saw the device she was reaching for. With one quick fluid movement, she came up with the air powered vaccine gun  and put it against Larry’s chest. Nighty- night," she said, and pulled the trigger.

There was a loud pop, and Larry stiffened visibly. He looked at her with horror and confusion, then he fumbled for the door handle. The chemical was stronger, and within seconds he was completely incapacitated. He lolled over into his seat, a blank stare on his face. Susan got into the car and started it up. She looked around, saw nothing, then looked at Larry with disdain. Piece of shit, she whispered.

June 8, 2013

Lake Chepachet

Susan pulled into her driveway and looked around to make sure none of the neighbors were outside. The one immediately to her left, the Patterson woman, had been a particular pain in the ass ever since she first saw Susan, making her for some sort of spinster who was on the make and would want her idiot husband, who had the IQ of a tomato and smelled like old cheese. She had bugged Susan relentlessly, until Susan took the thing out of the safe and had a little talk with it. The Patterson woman was on dialysis within two days. Susan ran into her at the Stop & Shop two weeks later, and gave her an evil smile.

How’s your kidney? she said.

How.....how did you know about that? the woman whispered, a horrified look on her face. I never told anybody about that.

You’ll never know, Susan said sweetly. Now stay out of my business, and stay inside your house when I’m outside. Do we understand each other?

You’re.......I don’t know what you are, the woman said. You’re evil.

Just remember what we talked about, Susan said over her shoulder as she headed for the produce department. The left one still works, doesn’t it? she giggled. For now, anyway.

Nobody was outside. She pulled farther down the driveway until she was completely hidden from view. She collected all of Larry’s personal effects, took them into the garage,  and put them into a double plastic bag with two bricks. She wore surgical gloves throughout the entire process. She went back to the car and put a blanket over Larry’s inert form. He was still breathing, and he was still somewhat conscious, although he could not move a muscle. She pulled the blanket down so she could see his face.

Can you hear me? she said sweetly. "Oh, I’m sorry, that’s right, you can’t talk. Bet you wish you had some of that stuff I zapped you with so you could use it on all the cheap tramps you pick up. Bet you thought I was one too, didn’t you. How quickly the worm turns. You know that old joke? You know, remember my name, because you’ll be screaming it all night? Remember that one, Larry? Well, remember mine. It’s Susan, in case you forgot. I’ll say it real slow so even a moron like you can remember it. Suuuuusan. And remember what I look like, so that when I drown you later you’ll have something to think about. Think of me as that hot new car you never got to drive. I’m going inside now, Larry. I’ll be back later, say nine-ish? I’m going to have a snack and wait until dark. I liked that movie, Larry. A bit different than your situation, but it ended pretty much the same way. Ta-ta." She pulled the blanket back over his face, locked the car, and went inside to wait.

At nine, Susan went out to the car. She had something in her hand. She put it near her face and said something in a foreign language. The strength that immediately flowed through her body was astounding. She pulled Larry out of the car, tossed him easily over her shoulder, and took him down to her dock. She put him into her canoe, tossed the plastic bag next to him, and fetched three cinder blocks. She tied one to each of his feet and the third to his waist.

Yeah, she sighed as she worked. I was a bit careless with the last one. Dumped the guy too close to shore, and something chewed the ropes. Probably a big turtle. Do you like turtles, Larry? They eat dead people. Bet you didn’t know that. So do Piranha. I stocked the lake with both. Not much left for identification when they get through with you. Eventually the skeletons wash up on shore, and some fat woman with her ugly kids will run screaming to the police. If it’s summer, that is. She finished tying off the ropes and sat back.

Excellent, she said approvingly. You look like Harry Houdini, ready to do an escape act. Only you won’t be escaping, Larry. Not now, not ever. She began to row, and Larry twitched imperceptibly. One of his eyes moved a bit, too. Stuff is wearing off, she said in a dead voice. Don’t get your hopes up, though. You have another half hour to go before you could even think about standing up, much less swimming. Can you swim, Larry? Not with three cinder blocks on him, he can’t, she giggled.

Oh, I forgot to thank you for the drink tonight. I think I’ll have another one when I get back, now that I think about it. I don’t drink too much, but tonight I want to celebrate. And don’t worry about your wife, she said dreamily. I had a little.......visit with her. Not the kind you think, but I did see her. She knows what you’ve been doing, and she was going to divorce you anyway. I’m saving her the expense.

Susan stopped rowing when they were in the middle of the lake, a good quarter of a mile from her dock. She looked around, then turned to Larry. No more chit chat, she said, and kicked him overboard. She tossed the plastic bag into the water with him. He went under fast; the water bubbled for a couple of minutes, then was still. She sat there for a minute, listening, then rowed back to her dock.

June 9, 2013

Glocester Police Department

Yeah, we know her, Lieutenant Samuels said. Why.

Nothing in particular, Miller said. I interviewed her about an incident  here, and she was.....odd. Distant, almost angry.

What incident?

Somebody drowned 16 guys in our lake. She has a cottage that faces the area. I went over to ask her if she saw anything. She was far from friendly.

She doesn’t like the police, Samuels said. She as much as told us that. Wouldn’t say why.

What do you know about her?

Not much. She’s only lived here a couple of years. Single, late forties, never been married, keeps to herself. Not a party girl, that’s for sure. Never seems to go out much. She does some kind of therapy. Supposed  to be damned good at it, too.

Any  criminal record?

Nope. I checked her out myself when she applied for a pistol permit. Clean as a whistle. Nothing at all in the court system any place. She used to live in Vermont, then Boston, now here. Motor vehicle record is clean, not even a parking ticket. Who knows, he sighed. I heard about that case you have  there, you like her for anything?

No, nothing like that. She looks like she weighs a hundred pounds soaking wet. I can’t see her dumping full grown men in a lake. I just don’t know. I have a funny feeling about her. There’s something creepy about her, the way she just stares at you, makes you feel sick inside.

Most women make me feel sick inside, Samuels laughed as he dug something out of his nose and wiped it on his pants. Never had  much luck with the ladies. Never been able to figure out why.

Did she ever get that pistol  permit?

Yeah, but she never bought anything. Not here, anyway. None of them dead guys got shot, did they? I didn’t really read up on this, none of them were from Walpole.

No. They were all killed the same way. A paralytic was used, then drowning as the cause of death. The state cops here have nothing, I have the file. 15, make that 16 unsolved homicides. No clues, not a one. Nothing. Whoever this is, they are good. Really good.

Well, if we hear anything, I’ll let you know. You do the same. This woman gives you any shit, you call me and I’ll straighten her out for you.

Thanks. Miller hung up the phone, made some entries in his ledger,  and sat back in his chair. He looked at the clock; it was almost 8PM. Enough, he sighed, and headed for his car. He was halfway across the parking lot when he started to feel a burning sensation on his chest. It got worse quickly; it became so bad within thirty seconds that he tore open his shirt, thinking he had been attacked by killer bees. There on his chest was an image of something from Hell......it was so terrifying that he could not even scream. It was literally burning into his flesh. He reached for his cell phone. He never got to it.  He collapsed 10 feet from his car.

Susan sat bolt upright in bed at 8:04. She sat staring at the bedroom wall for a minute, then smiled. She nodded in satisfaction and went back to sleep. Inside her safe, the thing moved and tried to undo the lock.

June 10, 2013

Glocester Police Department

Heart attack, Chief Donahue said. Go figure. 45 years old and in perfect health.

Yeah, Ferguson said. "Poor