B-Movie Attack by Alan Spencer Read Free Book Online Page B

deserves better. She was young at the time, and dumb, my princess. Now she’s married a nice marine. He teaches Biology at Ohio University. He's respectable. She can do better, and she did better, than Ted Fuller.”
    “Okay, slow down. So those films were horror movies.”
    “Horror movies, stag films, stories that glorified drugs, rape, incest, anything my group found offensive. We took them and never gave them back.”
    “They were stolen, huh?” The detective played it over in his mind. “Nobody’s tried to prosecute you?”
    “Why would they? It’s trash. And if you’re going to book me, the statute of limitations protects me. I’m damn proud to protect the morals of the viewing community. The MPAA stands behind me. Good taste stands behind me. I’ve contacted my lawyers. The reels are public domain. You can’t arrest me.”
    Vickers received a heavy clue to Ted Fuller’s possible motive. A man creates movies, Vickers thought, intends to make a living on them, and then an organization steals the material without warrant or lawful procedure.  
    “My safe is destroyed,” Dennis argued. “They were my belongings.”
    You stole them, and now of course you’re mad someone stole them back. “Well, we’ll let one of the officers get a report from you, and we’ll see about getting back your property.”
    Vickers jotted down his name and information. He pointed to a couple of local cops. “Show him out. And thank you for talking with me, sir.”
    This was turning into a new crime altogether: stolen reels. But not just any reels, Ted Fuller’s reels—the same Ted Fuller who’d married Dennis’s daughter a long time ago. Did Ted Fuller perform the reel heist and the killings on campus? If there was a revenge motive, how come Dennis hadn’t been harmed, especially if Ted Fuller knew about the stolen films the man had in his possession? Why wait so long to finally steal them?
    He turned to Officer Baker. “What else is here?”
    “Two security guards were here when the crime occurred,” Baker explained. “One was Wayne Carton. He’s recovering at the hospital from a broken pelvis and shattered ribs and three large lacerations across his chest. And security guard Al Denning didn’t fare so well. His throat was completely torn out. The man's dead.”
    “Damn.” Vickers’ chest clenched. “I need that search warrant. I’m certain Ted Fuller’s involved in this. It’s so obvious. If it weren’t for red tape, I could barge into that sociopath’s apartment and end this. Al Denning didn’t have to die. None of those people had to die.”
    “Then call it in,” Baker suggested. “This is an emergency. It sounds like we’ve got a psychopath, maybe a whole group of movie fanatics.”
    It was the first solid idea from the young man all day.  
    The detective smiled. “Then let’s get to it.”

Chapter Six
    Ted Fuller suffered the longest afternoon of his life. His attempts to break his wrists free of the rope restraints didn’t go unnoticed. The five graveyard tramps occupied the bed once again, draining his sex and stretching his libido to unreal limits. They dug welts in his thighs, like they were dogs demonstrating dominance on a weaker species. His shoulder blades were lanced with needle-sized cuts and dark purple bruises. The vampires were sucking blood from his neck and arms intermittently. The draining was excruciating to the point his nerves were no longer able to feel the agony. He was numb through and through. The loss of blood and their saliva in his bloodstream had a strange paralyzing effect on him. His vision was fading in and out. A drawn-out whaaaaaah sound in his ears made it difficult to listen.  
    He was helpless to stop them.  
    While he was in this state, they turned out the bedroom’s lights and played another film.  
    Chicago’s a chopping block , he thought. Everyone will die. And it’s because of me.
    Ted couldn’t focus on one thought at a time, so he stuck to