by N. M. Brown
“Good observation McQueen.” Hale’s voice came from behind him. After they had made their discovery, McQueen had called Hale first. The other Detective had been back at the scene within minutes and had much the same reaction as McQueen.
“Which is odd right?” McQueen nodded in agreement as Ramirez spoke out.
“Serial Killers thrive off the long game,” McQueen agreed, thinking over what they knew so far.“In most cases anyway and at the very least at not being caught. The planning, the setting; it all must be right, yet this guy, he’s being snappy about it. Not waiting long before kills, making a quick fix kill zone like this. Lizzy and her guests were killed here. We don’t know where Mr. Farrows and Dwight were killed yet, but we can assume it was a quick job like this one. It might not even still be around which just show how uncaring this killer is. How can he be hiding so well, when this is all so…”
“Shitty.” Hale said.
“Amateur.” McQueen supplied, though he didn’t disagree with Hale. The more he studied the room, then less he thought their suspects were suspects anymore. Amateur was right and that didn’t describe Maddock and he’d even go as far to say it wasn’t Echo either. As for Liam…
They had found this room by following the victims and no sooner had they turned on the lights, McQueen and Ramirez had spotted the drag marks that lead up to Liam, his slim but toned frame stuffed into a tiny locker, one that he didn’t fit completely into. He was dead, his skull cracked and face ghostly pale while his light brown eyes stared at the ground. Blood had coated his back and neck and had puddled in the bottom of the locker. When doctor Cassi had arrived, the techs pulled him out to find stab wound to his lower back right on the spine. The blow hadn’t killed him, but unable to walk, too dazed to cry for help, Liam Night had bled out inside this very locker, probably all the while the killer had ran around trying to clear up his mess.
“I’m going to inform the Nights of their son’s passing,” Hale said, lightly tapping McQueen on the shoulder. McQueen was glad for the distraction and turned away from all the gore. “Finish up here.” Hale watched at the body bag rolled past him and McQueen couldn’t help but think: another, another one dead. “Liam Night was a bust, so our killers still out there. Go-… Go get Ms. Headly and take her to the hospital. After that, our last avenue will be to stake out the House to catch the bastard,which will be difficult at best.” Hale wasn’t pleased. No one was. This was turning into a very long road.
“You got it.” McQueen watched Hale leave and straightened his back. No more. Not one more body would drop, he promised himself.
Stood examining the room, night falling outside, McQueen prayed one last time that whatever sick bastard was doing this would slip soon. Show their cards – or at least show whether they were playing Black-Jack or Poker. The techs moved slowly making sure to get every angle when collecting pictures and cataloguing the body parts lying around. The piece would only be identifiable by their DNA, which was a morbid task McQueen was glad not to have.
Spotting a short honey bob at the back of the room, McQueen strode over to speak with Doctor Cassi, Ramirez following close behind. She’d always seemed to have a better relationship with Hale, but McQueen felt she was warming up to him.
“Doctor.” McQueen nodded at her as he approached. It had been but a few hours since he’d last seen her, crying over Lizzy’s mangled body, but Cassi had a stiff upper lip and she looked no different than she normally did. She wore her overalls, still crisp and white despite the bloody mess around her as well as surgical gloves and a flashlight a top her head. She was looking through the remains that had been collected in steel basins, trying to discern body parts from each other.
“Hello Detective. Officer.” Head rising, Cassi looked around the room, not really taking it in. She, like McQueen was using her ‘not-now’ filter – holding everything back with blurry vision and fleeting looks. “This place…” She trailed off shaking her head. “I had hoped this would be over soon. With three suspects, it would have been likely. But now one’s dead and the others… well, I guess you know better than I do.” She half smiles at McQueen. “And don’t think for a second I doubt your abilities, despite any miss-giving in the past or rumours I may have heard. I am not one to judge. You are a fine working detective. You are hardworking and dedicated, as well as seeing the best in people… even if they’re evil, vindictive, leather clad barmaid’s who …” McQueen couldn’t help but let his lip twitch with a spark of humour. “Sorry,” Cassi chuckled as she saw McQueen's uncomfortable shuffle. “My mouth runs away with its self.”
“I had no idea you felt that way.” McQueen admitted. McQueen gave Cassi a tiny shoulder pat, one in comfort and understanding. “We need to find this killer Cassi. You and I both seemed to have realized we haven’t caught them yet and I don’t want another death on our hands.”
Cassi’s whole body shook at the horror of it. “I know, I know. Whoever is doing this is sending a message and they want everyone to hear. Two murders, five bodies, one in intensive care, all in one week. The next body will more than likely be soon. These-… these people need their peace. This can’t happen to anyone else.” McQueen’s mind flicked to the strained body of Elizabeth Michaels, screaming on her hospital bed.
“Doctor?” A voice spoke from further in the studio. Making her pardons, Cassi hurried away, though if they had found anything else it wouldn’t be any more pleasant than what they already had.
McQueen surveyed the room again. All of Lizzy’s props were on the wall and were untouched except the ones removed so their backboard could form the centre cage. The killer wasn’t a masochist. Sex wasn’t a part of it. They despised sex. He reluctantly imagined what Lizzy would have felt in this room, the man and woman she’d been with; dead and her career, her occupation being used against her. As she’d been hanging here, her world had crumbled and everything she knew and loved was tarnished.
But Lizzy had survived, McQueen thought, how? How had she survived when others hadn’t? “What are you thinking?” Ramirez spoke up. He’d been quiet, contemplating the same as McQueen, but he must have seen McQueen's face change.
“Lizzy survived.” McQueen thought out loud. “How? All of them, Farrow, Dwight, Bowheart, Pimm, they all died from being… eaten and bloodless. So why did Lizzy survive?”
“Do you think the killer did it on purpose?” Ramirez asked. “Maybe to dangle a bone or get media interest?”
But McQueen was already shaking his head. “There are much more public places to display the bodies and in much easier fashions, so it’s unlikely to be the media attention. It’s something else.” McQueen's eyes drifted to the green locker in the corner of the room. “Liam.” He said.
“The stalker?” Ramirez followed is gaze catching on quickly. “He interrupted. Made the killer panic. He’s never attacked someone before; only kidnapped and thrown them to the dogs. But Liam wasn’t an intended victim. He was clean up.”
McQueen walked across the crime scene, imagining the events. “Liam disturbs the killer and the killer panics. He stabs Liam in the back, after knocking him unconscious, and dumps him in the locker.” McQueen circled the home-made cage. “He never planned on staying here, but he wanted more time. He doesn’t know Liam is a stalker, doesn’t know who he’s just killed: if its someone on their way home, or if they’re going to be missed. The clock is counting down. He’s got to clear up…” McQueen smiled. Inside the killer’s head was like plotting a map: go here, then here. If they could follow it to when ‘X’ marks the spot…
“If the killer cleared out, we could be looking at evidence left behind. Also, if the killer gets wind that Lizzy is still alive, he could go after her. The fact she was tied up probably meant she wasn’t fed to the dogs like the others. She’s unfinished business.” Ramirez observed, pulling out his phone already to get a detail on Lizzy’s room. He was fast on the ball and knew procedure. McQueen liked him.
McQueen nodded and saw Cassi wave him over. “You
get on that. I also want two, no, three officer’s undercover in the Cardinal House tonight. If the killer hasn’t picked their next victim already, they will most likely tonight.”
McQueen walked over to Cassi. She and two techs were by the back door, which lead to a different alley. This one had a large blue plastic bin on wheels and they were currently rummaging through it. “What’s up?”
“Canines.” McQueen's interest perked up. “Four of them.” Cassi already had one out of the bin, currently examining it on the floor. “They’re all male and all dead. I’d take a guess that our killer thought they would be more vicious being male, truth is all canines are similar in violence.” Cassi was in full education mode. McQueen guessed it helped her decompartmentalize what she was faced with.
“So even being males, they weren’t aggressive?”
“No. I said they wouldn’t have been any more aggressive than if they were female. However, these poor pups were forced into an aggressive state because they were starved.”
McQueen looked down at the dead dogs and frowned. “It doesn’t look very starved Cassi?”
“Their protruding stomachs are due to gorging themselves. They were starved and then given too much food. They ate and ate until they could burst.” Cassi explained, pulling a strip of flesh from the dog’s teeth.
“And when you say food, you mean…?
“Humans, Detective. These dogs were feeding on the legs of our victims.” McQueen shivered. “They were stabbed to death, most likely in their prone state after eating too much. They aren’t very accurate shots however. Seemed to be wherever the killer was able to hit.”
“Not a skilled knife expert then?”
“No. The killer hit organs and such that made the dogs die eventually, but even they suffered under his hand.” Cassi spat. Facing McQueen again she adjusted her bottle end glasses, her eyes huge beyond them. “The dogs are an unusual variety. We’d have to test via their DNA to get a breed. But the Distributor…? I don’t think it will narrow them down. I’ve sent a few snapshots to a colleague to determine species. I can pledge that my colleague will be discreet.”
“Thank you.” Hale would flip if this case got out to the press now. “The rarity of the breed could help. It could narrow where they came from or how the killer got a hold of them.” McQueen's mind ticked over. “Does India have any special breeds that you know of?”
“Indian?” Cassi looked confused. “Well, sure they have the Indian Pariah Dog, Caravan Hound.” Cassi went on. “But these dogs aren’t pure breeds and it would be hard to guess what mix.” Cassi mused out, but McQueen thanks her anyway. Any information was good information at the moment. Scribbling down what Cassi had said, checking the spelling, McQueen went to have a look at the dogs.
There was just as much blood out here as there was inside. The dogs had been tossed into the large plastic, blue bin that looked to have been bashed about a number of times. There were lots of black scuffs and a few red parts. A bright orange scratch caught McQueen’s eye and he made sure to point it to the Tech team. Perhaps it had been the bin men, but maybe it had been their killer. McQueen asked the techs to take samples for possible comparison to any vehicle they might pick up. The tiny one-way street they were in had no windows and no doors along it and the buildings rose up at least three stories either side. It was just wide enough to fit a car down, yet unfortunately it also had large double door gate at the end. Anyone walking the area wouldn’t have seen anything parked down here. McQueen breathed in a curse. They couldn’t just get one break.
He watched the Techs pull another dead dog from the bin, flies already buzzing around their nose and eyes.“Any clue on time of death?”
“Um, hard to say. These colder days can make it difficult to probe, plus I’m not a veterinarian-,” Cassi waffled.
“An educated guess would do.” McQueen asked.
“Maybe eight to twelve hours. Give or take an hour. When the dogs are back to the lab, I can take a better look.” McQueen wanted answers now. He felt every beat of his heart like they were against the clock. Waiting was a pain, but before McQueen could ask anything else, his name was called across the room.
“Over here!” He cried, walking back in. A rookie officer jogged up to him. He looked very pale, but McQueen gave him points for not puking on the crime scene.
“Detective McQueen, there was a call on the radio from the station. You’re wanted back there as soon as possible. It has something to do with your suspect currently in custody. Ms. Headly.” The newbie read off his sleek, new note pad. “She was in an altercation with Officer Rocher and has been hurt. They are releasing her immediately due to… due to police battery. They thought you’d like to know.” McQueen felt his stomach drop, shoulders tense painfully and every curse ran through his mind. With a quick thanks to the rookie, Ramirez and he hot-trotted to their car.
“What’s going on?” Ramirez asked as they jumped in the car. “Has there been another murder.” He gunned the engine and pulled away quickly.
“No. Worse.” McQueen answered through gritted teeth and breathing heavily through his nose. “We need to get back to the station.” If Benny had hurt Echo he would skin him alive. They still needed her for this case and damn it she was a defenceless female. Maybe not an innocent female, but you never hit a lady. “Shitting, fucking balls!” He snapped, causing Ramirez to jump. McQueen was going to hit the roof. He still fucking needed her.
He didn’t let the implications of those words hit him. Later, he thought, later he’d deal with this. When the case is over.
XXIV
“I
really didn’t know it would go this far.” A preppy voice reverberated down the dully lit corridor. “I feel so guilty.” Echo groaned as she sat up in her quaint little cell.
Her back ached, her cheek was swollen and several of the cuts on her arm had reopened. Benny had taken his belt to her back while she curled in on herself protecting her face. She’d screamed and screamed, no doubt being what had drawn the night officers to the cells. As they’d dragged Benny off, he’d got one last swing in clipping her face. Her body ached, but the pain was easily bearable. Nevertheless, the show had to go on, so she’d been curled on the bed making sure to whimper whenever someone walked by while she waitedfor her release forms to be signed. Following the slap of shoes down the corridor, Echo had to hide a snarl as Sydney and another officer popped around the corner stopping in front of her cell.
“Oh Echo, my darling.” Sydney cooed hurrying to the cell edge. “You poor thing.” She whipped her head back to the Officer, “I hope this isn’t how you treat all your criminals. This is disgraceful.”
Echo had to do a double take as Sydney lectured the cop. All Echo had ever known Sydney in was tattered jeans and baggy, holey t-shirts with biker boots to match. It was a rebel with a cause look, but always of the highest quality. Archer would have no less. That’s why Archer allowed Echo to wear a thousand-pound dresses and Vivienne Westwood jackets because they screamed money, not fashion. But the girl who stood before her bars now…Sydney wore high waisted leather pants that stopped just shy of Louboutin black heels. A dark navy top swung just above the curveof her hips and was see through, showing off her black bra. It was a stylish look, one she recognised…
“Why the fuck are you wearing my clothes?” Echo snapped. Her blood boiled at the thought of Sydney wearing them. Hell, she would have had to get into her apartment to steal them the sneaky bitch.
Sydney blushed and looked to the officer who was stood as far back from the cell as he could. He wasn’t scared of Echo per say, but after getting Officer Benny suspended for an undisclosed length of time, getting herself freed, all the while still under suspicion and behind bars, no one wanted to get too close. “Could you give us a moment.” Sydney smiled sweetly. A ragged nod from the officer and Sydney and Echo were suddenly alone. Standing slowly and approaching the bars, Echo did another slow once over while Sydney cleared her throat. “Archer allowed me to stay
the night after you were arrested. I needed some clean attire.”
“That was twenty-four hours ago. You could have easily been home since then. Why is your skanky ass still in my clothes?”
Sydney bristled. “You’re not around anymore Echo. Someone had to work. Archer didn’t seem to mind that I remained around, so I did. Besides,” She sniffed, running her hand down herself, admiring every curve. “They suit me more, don’t you think.” She smiled, waiting for a compliment.
“Are you fucking serious?” Was all Echo could say. “I never invited you into my place, what the fuck makes you think you can help yourself to my stuff?”
“But it’s not your place sweetie.” Sydney looked at her pitifully. “Archer bought it. He owns the building. He even buys you some of these clothes. So really, they’re his. And like I said. He didn’t mind I was there.”
Echo growled. How dare Archer allow Sydney to raid her stuff. That was low, even for him. “So why are you here? Did Archer send you?”
Sydney smiled sadly, “No. Archer hasn’t sent me. He hasn’t mentioned you at all actually.” Echo found that hard to believe. “And I didn’t come to see you, though I was concerned as to how you would be coping. The real reason was Detective McQueen wanted to ask me some questions. So here I am.” She smiled, doing a little popping motion with her hands, like she really did just pop into existence.