Night Strike

by Rodney Mountain

  "Gotta love the color commentary," Nick chuckled, "So someone, somewhere was running around here with blood dripping off them…"

  "Luminal?" Corrie said, looking up and wondering, "In the hallway?"

  "Let me get my bag," Robin said, "The killer should have been dripping badly."

  "And might have been injured himself," Corrie said, "Look at this splat on the wall. It’s going in a different direction than the others."

  "I’ll have Chucky type it," Robin nodded, "Let’s follow the blood trail."

  Chapter 3

  Corrie jogged over to the motel office and badgered the clerk into turning off the hall lights. Nick helped Robin set up her portable blue light until Corrie showed up again. They’d done this before, though it had been a while since either of them had had to cover an area this large.

  "You realize this place probably has had quite a bit of blood on the carpet over the years," Nick said, "This hole has been a dive since I was a child."

  "Let’s see if any of it leads us anywhere," Corrie shrugged, "Which end do you want, Robin?"

  "I’ll handle the luminal," Robin said, "You two handle the lights."

  "Right," Nick nodded, "Let’s do it."

  With the lights off and Robin spraying the luminal on the floor the blood drops started becoming a lot more visible in the dark matted carpet. As Nick had expected there had been more than one stream of blood, but the most prominent streams were the freshest ones coming from the room Terry Moore and the unnamed hooker were killed in.

  "It’s going towards the back," Nick said, "What the hell? They bolted down that door years ago."

  "Could we get lucky enough for the guy to still be here?" Corrie wondered, "What is up with this?"

  "Maybe we’ll get out of here after all," Nick said, pulling out his weapon just to be on the safe side, "Corrie, take the light. If the killer is still here I’m going to play cover."

  "You got it," Corrie nodded, taking the light, "Which way, Robin?"

  "The blood goes to the back door and congregates," Robin said, "See the hand prints on the door?"

  "Did he back track?" Nick asked, "The blood looked like it was going one direction."

  "He went to this last door," Corrie said, "Look at this. Is this a stairwell?"

  "Looks to be to the basement," Nick said, "Robin?"

  "The blood goes down there," Robin said, "Doesn’t look like there’s more than one stream going that way."

  "Go back with the forensics people, Robin," Corrie said, "Nick and I will clear the area before any of you continue down here."

  "Front or back?" Nick asked her.

  "You take the lead," Corrie said, "I’ll cover you."

  "Right," Nick nodded and pulled out his flashlight, "Let’s go."

  Nick shined the flashlight around the room with his left hand as he held his service pistol in the right. Corrie took a two handed grip and looked for any sort of movement. Luckily for them that day the only thing moving in that basement were a few rats of the nonhuman variety.

  "What is the smell?" Corrie asked him, "I don’t recognize it."

  "Alcohol," Nick said, "Probably some cheap booze that someone threw down here or threw up down here."

  "Disgusting," Corrie said, wrinkling her nose.

  "You got it," Nick chuckled, "Welcome to the bad side of town."

  "Over in the corner," Corrie said, shaking her head, "There’s something over there."

  Nick nodded and shined his light over in the corner. What they found there was not what they particularly wanted to see. Nick grumbled and Corrie, despite having done this job for a couple years now, had to fight down a minor queasiness in her stomach.

  "I think we found our killer," Nick said, "Move the guns away from his hands."

  Corrie nodded, paused for a minute as she regained her balance, and used her pencil to pull the weapons away from the bloody corpse. She laid them on the floor next to Nick’s feet and then stood up straight to look at him again.

  "Go get Robin," Nick said, "I’ll watch our corpse here to make sure he’s as dead as he looks."

  "One of those guns is an old service pistol," Corrie said, "Think it’s Terry’s?"

  "Probably," Nick nodded, "He couldn’t qualify on the automatics."

  "This just took a turn for the interesting," Corrie sighed, "At least it should be easy enough to close."

  "If we can identify them at any rate," Nick grumbled, "Go get Robin so we can start working in here."

  Chapter 4

  The lights were quickly turned back on in the area so that the police could see again, but it didn’t help. The corpse in the basement looked just as bad in full light as it did under Nick’s flashlight beam a few minutes before. Nick and Corrie tried to figure out just what could have caused this type of carnage.

  "This is insane," Nick said finally when they went upstairs, "It’s like they killed each other."

  "They did kill each other," Corrie corrected, "The question is why. Could it be over the girl?"

  "She looks like a working girl," Nick said, "I don’t think Terry had gotten laid for free in twenty years."

  "Jealous husband of a working girl maybe?" Corrie wondered, "I don’t have any idea."

  Nick and Corrie walked in to the death room again and found that forensics had mostly finished in there. The wallet had been bagged, as had the girl’s identification. Corrie used gloves to handle the bags and wrote down the name of the girl to run through the computers.

  "Guys," Robin said, coming back into the room, "Come on downstairs and take a look at this."

  "You go," Corrie said, "I’m going to go run the hooker for wants."

  Nick went downstairs with Robin and took a better look at the room now that she had it lit up with the portable lamps. The man on the floor was a fairly young one, though the blood that had splattered all over his face from the murders obscured his age. It also became readily apparent where the smell of alcohol was coming from.

  "Jack Daniels," Nick said, "I knew I smelled alcohol."

  "Eight bottles," Robin said, "Two of them broke when he hit the floor. From the splatters it looks like he stumbled down the stairs and came to a rest there. Probably was disoriented from the bullet he took. Was Terry a good shot?"

  "Not particularly," Nick said, "Usually just fired a whisker over department spec. I think he had a few friends among the people who administered the firearms tests."

  "Figures," Robin said, "The shot wasn’t particularly well placed. We’ll have to open him up to be sure, but I’m betting that it severed the artery above the heart but didn’t hit the heart itself."

  "Hell," Nick said, "I’m amazed it hit that close. Any ID on him?"

  "Jim Frakes," Robin said, "Mean anything to you?"

  "Not off hand," Nick said, "I’ll call it in. Anything else in his pockets?"

  "A list from Jobin’s Liquor," Robin said, "Isn’t that the sleazy place down the street from here?"

  "Yeah," Nick nodded, "Only place left in this part of the city that will deliver. Delivery people are always armed and… Oh boy…"

  "Idea?" Robin wondered.

  "Yep," Nick sighed, "I don’t think I’m going to like this."

  Nick walked back upstairs and found Corrie checking out things in the room. She looked at him and wondered about the thoughtful look on his face. He stepped over a pool of blood and walked over to the corpses on the other side of the room.

  "What’s up?" Corrie asked him.

  "The girl," Nick said, "What’s her name?"

  "Lorrie Frakes," she replied, "Why?"

  "Married?" Nick asked her.

  "Not according to public record," Corrie said, "Why?"

  "Let me guess," Nick said, smiling a little, "One brother. James."

  "Good call," Corrie nodded, putting the pieces together, "Our corpse in the basement?"

  "One man, two guns and a whole armload of Jack Daniels," Nick said, "You thinking
what I’m thinking?"

  "I’m thinking that he didn’t know his sister was hooking," Corrie said, "Call Jobin’s?"

  "Sounds like a plan to me," Nick said, "I always knew these damn hookers would kill him someday."

  Nick got on his cell phone and confirmed the fact that Jim Frakes had been a delivery driver at Jobin’s and that his last job was two deliveries to that motel. One of the customers had called to complain, but neither Frakes nor the bottles of Jack Daniels that had gone out with him had been seen since.

  "Looks pretty cut and dried to me," Corrie said, "Pissed off brother decides to ice slutty sister and gets shot by a cop in the process."

  "Not surprising, but right," Nick agreed, "Nothing else to do with it."

  "Have your people take the pictures, Robin," Corrie said, "We’re going to fill the paperwork out as a double murder. Let the weenies downtown try to contact the families."

  Nick walked over and looked at his one time partner one last time. He shook his head and turned away. Corrie gave him a shrug and they both walked out of there feeling the letdown that always resulted when a case turned out to be this easy and this tragic. Three more on the ever-growing pile of refuse left behind in the dark back corners of the city, gone and soon to be forgotten.

  Madfest Murder

  Similarities between some of the characters and real life people in this case are intentional, but only for the purposes of satire and for making a good story. The actions attributed to these people are in all cases fictional and by no means representative of what they may or may not do in real life. This was written as an auction prize for a Madhouse Auction in 2002. (Original Disclaimer from 2004)

  This is another one that I'd forgot existed. Another Nick and Corrie short that was written as a prize back on the days that I was on the telnet chats all the time. Really dates my computer knowledge, doesn't it?

  I do remember the people though and it was a great community at the time. I can't remember if Firestream actually existed or if he was an amalgamation of any number of dickheads that frequented the chat rooms.

  It does amuse me rereading this after nearly a decade though, going through the old meets was a bit of fun.

  Chapter 1

  Nick Jones groaned as the telephone started ringing loudly next to him. He moved slightly, letting Corrie's bright red hair move a little as he reached for the telephone receiver. Corrie didn't even really notice the difference as Nick pulled the phone to his ear and managed to grumble out an opening.

  "This had better be good," Nick grumbled, "We're supposed to be off today."

  "Sorry, Nicky," Mike Miller's voice said as it came through the digital telephone line, "You and Corrie are the only people we've got with even a rudimentary understanding of computers, and we've got a doozie of a case here."

  "You know the internet as well or better than we do," Nick grumbled, "Why don't you take it?"

  "Claudia just went into labor," Mike told him, "Marcus doesn't know one end of a computer from another, so he's coming with me. Can you and Corrie do me a favor and take care of this one for me?"

  "You got it," Nick agreed, "Give Claudia my best, eh?"

  "I will if she stops trying to hit me," Mike chuckled, "Got a pen?"

  "Give me a sec," Nick said as he slid out from under Corrie, "Gotta find one."

  Nick looked around in vain for a pen and then just slipped in at the computer station he shared with Corrie. He turned on the screen and brought up a word processor fairly quick, typing a few keystrokes just out of habit to make sure that it was working properly.

  "Ok," Nick told him, "Give me the details."

  "We've got a body over at the Montgomery Hotel," Miller told him, "Second floor. Nobody knows for sure who he is yet, but that floor has been taken over by a group of people for a chat line meeting."

  "Son of a bitch," Nick said, groaning a little, "Madfest! I knew that location sounded familiar. Corrie and I were going to head over there this morning to meet some people we knew from there."

  "Shit," Miller grumbled, "Do you think you two will have to recuse yourselves?"

  "Probably not," Nick told him, "Corrie and I are regulars, but not that tied to it. Probably better to have someone that understands that culture anyway. That leaves out the rest of you."

  "True," Mike told him, "I usually only do gaming, not chatting. Do I need to give you any addresses?"

  "Who do we go see?" Nick asked him, "You want us for the primary detectives, right?"

  "You and Corrie can take it," Mike agreed, "You're the official primary, but I know you two. You'll split the duties like you always do. Just for the official record you're in charge though."

  "All right," Nick told him, "We'll be on our way as soon as I can get Corrie rousted."

  "Why are we being rousted?" Corrie asked him as she sat up on the bed, "Did Mike actually find a case he needed us for?"

  "Go brief Corrie," Mike said when he heard her voice, "Come by the hospital when you can. I'm sure we'll be here for a bit."

  "Right," Nick agreed, "Talk to you later, Mike. Good luck."

  "What's going on?" Corrie asked him.

  "Someone is dead at Madfest," Nick told her, "I don't know who yet. Mike caught the case, but Claudia just went into labor. That means we're up."

  "Because Marcus doesn't know one end of a computer from the other," Corrie grumbled, "Figures. Is he at least with Mike?"

  "Yep," Nick said, "Throw on some clothes and we'll go over there. I'm the primary this time, though Mike knows that we work on an equal footing."

  "I'll find you some clothes if you'll make the coffee," Corrie said hopefully, "I think I'll need some."

  "Deal," Nick nodded and went off to make his brew, "We'll hit some fast food on the way there. Whoever it is can wait ten minutes for that."

  "Right," Corrie agreed, "They certainly aren't going to get any deader."

 

  Chapter 2

  Nick and Corrie pulled up in front of the hotel at around seven in the morning to find four uniformed units and an ambulance sitting out front. There was also the usual throng of reporters milling around as well, but the uniformed police officers kept the onlookers at bay and out of the hotel itself.

  They showed their identifications and were directed up to the second floor. One of the uniformed officers looked dubious at their disheveled appearance, but they were well known in the department from their work on the Sleeping Beauty murders six months before. That case had been instrumental in getting them paired up and had also nearly cost Corrie her life.

  "Where's the body?" Nick asked as he walked inside.

  "Second floor common room," the officer said, "Medical Examiner just showed up. He's looking over it now."

  "Good," Corrie said, "Saves us a little time. Any identification yet?"

  "Not that they've told us down here," the uniformed officer shrugged, "But they don't tell us anything."

  "Pretty standard," Nick said, "What you don't know you can't accidentally leak."

  "I guess you guys like to do your own leaks your way," the officer shrugged, "Jay Creighton sure did."

  "Jay Creighton is a dead murderer," Corrie said coldly, "Not your run of the mill detective."

  "Besides," Nick chuckled, "Our boss hates the press. He'd shoot us if we did what that lunatic Creighton used to."

  "True that," the officer shrugged, "Anyway, your body awaits."

  They walked up the stairs, something that Nick was finally able to do after a few months of being smoke free. Corrie had finally bullied him out of that habit, much to everyone in the unit's approval. Nick had been the last holdout smoker as Miller had quit years before.

  "Lovely way to have to meet our online friends, isn't it?" Nick asked her.

  "Better us than someone who they don't know," Corrie shrugged, "Let's hope that nobody we know did it."

  The halls were rather empty, as the hotel detectives had usher
ed everyone back into their rooms. There were three men standing over a crumpled form on the floor. Neither Nick nor Corrie could tell from this angle who it was, but it was obvious that the dead body on the floor was male and that he had died rather violently.

  "When did the murder happen?" Nick asked the gathered people.

  "Who are you?" Talbot Jones, the medical examiner asked them, "Detectives, I hope."

  "I'm Detective Jones," Nick said, showing his shield, "This is Detective Albiston."

  "You're going to have fun with this one," Jones said nodding at the body, "Shot three times with a nine millimeter pistol. I can't tell you which one was fatal yet, but I'm betting that one of the shots went through the heart."

  "Any identification on the body?" Corrie asked, trying to put a name with the face, "Nobody downstairs knew him."

  Nick crouched down and looked at the body, studying the face that was contorted in a look of pain. It was hard to match that with the faces he'd seen on the madhouse web site, but he vaguely remembered it. He just couldn't put a name to it.

  "It's not Madmike," Corrie said, "I'd remember him."

  "It's Firestream," Nick said finally, as the recognition hit, "I saw a picture of him once when CG had some problems with him."

  "Firestream," Corrie said, a frown forming on her face, "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Half the talker hated his guts."

  "I'd say that's putting it mildly," a man said behind them, "I was surprised that he had the guts to show his face here after the tantrum he pulled in the Foyer last week."

  "Hiya Madmike," Nick said, smiling a little, "I'd hoped to meet you under better circumstances."

  "With a little more sleep under our belts," Corrie grinned.

  "They assigned this to you?" Madmike asked them, "Did they know you were part of this crowd?"

  "Miller did," Nick said, "We're the only ones who understand this crowd. Pretty much the only choice."

  "I can't believe one of us would shoot him," Madmike said, "He was an asshole, but didn't deserve that."

  "How many have made it so far?" Corrie asked him, "I hate to say it, but until we've had a chance to look into things, everyone is a suspect."

  "Seven of us made it yesterday," Madmike told them, "Trey and I showed up yesterday afternoon. Kneads, Nicole and Crazygal showed up around dinnertime. CurlyQ showed up alone soon after that. Adam, Brewdog and Irc showed up a little bit later. Firestream was the last one in."