The Ripper's Daughter

by B Anders

  Colby could only stare with a dropped jaw at Jessie’s unflinching disclosure.

  “What? Rat got your tongue? Where’s your snappy comeback? You don’t understand do you? Let me explain. Officer Willis, we are in a mutually needful situation. I want to be treated to a world denied me for three years while I was locked up in hell. You want answers you already have locked away in that cesspool you call a brain. So, you give me what I want and you’ll get what you want.

  “What do I want, Jessie?” Colby breathed hard as she drew the bound woman close, their bodies fitting together like missing parts of a whole. But, there was something wrong; she could feel it in her bones. It was screaming at her.

  “That’s the answer you already know. Ask me something else, Officer Willis.”

  “Tell me who killed Marty.”

  “Get me something to eat and I’ll give you an answer.”

  “Alright, we'll play this your way for now.” Colby surrendered with a defeated shake of her head.

  “Come on, back out to the car.”

  “No, let me stay here. Put me up in my old room.

  “Why?” Colby asked as she struggled to reconcile the spotless kitchen so reminiscent of happier times with her current position holding a chained Jessie at arm's length.

  “What’s upstairs? Why do you want to go upstairs?”

  Jessie’s face took a greyish turn. “I’m exhausted. My head is killing me. I’m starving. If I don’t lie down soon, I’ll going to puke my guts out. Just let me rest for a little while in a real bed … it’s been so long since I really slept.”

  Colby felt a deep pang of sympathy. She was tired herself and the empty pit in her stomach echoed back a growl. She failed to take care of them again. They hadn’t eaten in God knows how long. They were exhausted, dirty, and hungry and Jessie was getting sick. It was her fault.

  She gave a gentle nod and steered the smaller woman to the back stairs. This time the climb was easier, but she continued to keep a firm grip on Jessie’s arm like she was fearful of losing something precious.

  Like the rest of the house, time was frozen in the bedroom at the top of the stairs. Hardwood floors gleaming like they had just been buffed with sparkling walls painted a light shade of blue to match the off white curtains pulled back a quarter to let in the sunlight. It was the way Marty wanted it. He left everything as it was when Jessie left home for school, not having the heart to move anything. He once told Colby he liked to come home after a hard day on the job and just stand in the door way and look in at Jessie’s room. It made him feel close to her in a way they could never be in real life.

  “Why is the bed still made?” Colby muttered as she entered the room.

  “Who cares? It looks like heaven,” Jessie replied, her eyes wild with excitement.

  Colby unfastened the remaining shackles from Jessie’s wrists and turned to fold back the blanket. “If you need to use the bathroom, do it now.”

  “I’m good,” Jessie replied happily as she slid past Colby to climb into the bed.

  Colby almost smiled. She took the shackles in her hand and went to the foot of the bed. The slap of the metal around Jessie’s ankle startled the other woman.

  “If you leave the chains off, I promise not to do anything but sleep,” Jessie whispered.

  Colby raised an eyebrow at the statement, “And what will you do if I leave the chain on? Try to strangle me with it?”

  “I don’t want you to leave me chained up here alone like this,” Jessie said as she watched Colby fasten the free end of the shackle to the oak bed frame and pull it tight.

  “We need food and you’re sick as a dog. Sleep and I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” Colby said rubbing her eyes. She needed a drink bad.

  “You’re tired too. Come rest here, next to me like you used to. We can get food later. Please. Don’t leave me chained up while you run across town.” Jessie reached out to Colby.

  Colby had an image in her mind of waking in the wee hours of the morning to the patter of rain against the window pane, her bladder aching for relief when all she wanted was nothing more than to wrap herself around the woman sleeping soundly next to her. The last time she slept in that bed, she was worried sick Jessie would throw up and choke on her own vomit.

  She’d jumped into the car after Jessie called her on the cell in the middle of the night from some frat boy party—stoned, drunk and crying. Colby ended up taking Jessie home after threatening to kick in the face of her friend. Mr. Fuckface never called again.

  Colby pushed down her own need for rest, “Thanks for the offer but the chain stays. Sleep. I’m going to get food. We’ll talk when I get back.”

  ***

  The run into the city was delayed by a five-minute side trip to the packie. As she drove, Colby rinsed her mouth with a small wash of JD, savoring the burn of it on her tongue with a wince. She needed a sip to take the edge off the pain, but she also needed to be careful. She needed to make sure she was not having too much, too fast on an empty stomach. She might have a gold shield, but even so crashing a station wagon into a gaggle of nuns in Southie would be the end of her.

  The soft clatter of plates and the lazy drone of late afternoon lunchtime chatter floated through the door when Colby entered the cool elegance of PF Chang’s. Considering the restaurant was located on the ground floor of a nondescript office block dully named, The Transportation Building, it was unusually trendy with a dark wood interior complete with bamboo blinds. It was not Colby’s place of choice, but Jessie would have loved it.

  “Kafka, order for Kafka ready.”

  Colby heard the discreet tones of the bartender informing the hostess of the takeout order packed and ready to go on the serving counter. As Colby’s luck would have it, it was a large party order for one of the corporate offices nearby. One of those companies Colby just knew would charge their lunch tab to a big, fat expense account. She grinned and strode over to the young, painfully white hostess with jet black hair trapped in a severe bun.

  “Hi, I'm here for a takeout pick up.”

  The woman looked up, her face an unmovable mask of makeup, “Name?”

  “Kafka,” Colby said casually.

  “Where’s the usual guy?”

  “Who knows? Making some me time with a PA and a photocopier on three, most likely. I got pressed into service. You got the food ready? I’m starving. Oh, can you check if he ordered the pork dumplings, egg drop soup and Kung Pao chicken with fried rice? That’s for the boss. Hate to get back only to find out I have to make a return trip back here.”

  “I’ll check,” the woman replied with a hint of annoyance.

  *****

  Chapter 10

  Colby leaned back and watched Jessie eat. As the minutes ticked by, she grudgingly concluded she was no closer to understanding the woman sitting cross legged from her dressed only in an oversized white shirt than when she first set eyes on her at the Abhordale Clinic.

  She’d been studying Jessie ever since they drove out together from the hell hole of a hospital. Watched her for hours from the corner of her eye as the miles rolled by and disappeared under the wheels and what Colby saw when Jessie didn’t think she was looking, increasingly bothered her. It was more than the mood swings, the periods of violent mania interspersed with lucidity. Colby was disturbed at first by the periods of calm, where Jessie seemed almost unaffected by the events that had overtaken both their lives. In time she came to appreciate them, saw them as opportunities where she could connect to Jessie as best she could and in a small way make her amends. Still, there was something about Jessie that Colby couldn’t quite put her finger on, something cold, manipulative, and alien that she did not want to admit both excited and frightened her.

  The food was tasteless in Colby’s mouth, much too dry, too salty, and too oily to be edible. Chinese food made her sick. She could never get her head around how anyone could manage to gulp an entire meal with a small round bowl and a pair of pencil sticks without a six-pack
to wash it down. Food, real food, for Colby meant chucks of red meat swimming in brown gravy topped with a lump or two of mashed white starch. Nourishment for the body and the soul was not intended to be slimy things no one in their right mind could pronounce much less put in their mouths. If Colby’s disgust at their shared meal showed, Jessie gave no indication she cared. She devoured the meal like a starving animal. Whatever Colby pushed away simply meant there was more for Jessie to eat.

  Other than the occasional burp, there was no contradictory commentary about the quality of the food forthcoming from the dinner companions. They ate in silence on the floor at the foot of Jessie’s sleep tousled bed. The din of the unspoken left Colby feeling edgy. She was overdue for a time out. She could feel it cawing inside the top of her skull, behind her eyes, threatening to overwhelm her. She needed to rush back to the car and swig sweet relief from the bottle carelessly hidden under the driver’s seat.

  “Hey, Willis, can I wash up then catch some more shut eye or is there a law against it?” The woman asked with a wide grin after dropping a well-chewed rib bone onto the plate with a melodic clack.

  "F," Colby muttered.

  Jessie cocked an eyebrow at Colby, but kept her thoughts to herself. Colby had given her what she wanted so Jessie saw no point in angling for a fight with the volatile Detective. She would keep the fragile peace. The woman, unlike Colby, was in a good mood. She liked eating. She wanted to savor every succulent morsel. The joy of food was one of the things she missed the most when they locked her away.

  It was really all the fuckin’ bitch’s fault. She kept bringing Marty up during ‘therapy’ to elicit a cathartic reaction. In order to ensure staff safety, they strapped Jessie to a small wooden chair in the dank airless treatment tomb. Day after day, her tittie hard-on barely hidden under her white lab coat, the good doctor returned to throw random questions at her. Jessie’s stoic silence frustrated Dr. Leshkari to the point of ending the sessions early most days. Then the real fun would begin. Theo, the nursing assistant, would be summoned to drag Jessie back to her solitary cell. He was the doctor’s personal favorite. A big, mean brute with a heavy gold chain hanging from his thick-corded neck, part of his duties was making sure the doctor was sufficiently relaxed after a hard day on the wards.

  One day she gave Theo a sweet smile after the doctor stormed out. His body reacted on instinct and tented his pants. Hung like a mule he thought himself a Greek god. She talked him into removing the restraints because they were so tight. She moaned while he pawed her. She enjoyed his undivided attention to her breasts. It reminded her she was still alive, still desirable. But, what she cherished most was the memory of his greasy smile seconds before she plunged a sharpened chicken bone into his left eye. After that he was easy prey.

  It was a pity that no one responded to his screams and cries. Jessie thought him a real crybaby. He knew nothing about the dark and the monsters that dwell within. If he had, he would never have loosened the restraints holding her down.

  The alarm was only raised hours later when they noticed him missing. After that orders were issued to cut her food down to 1,000 calories a day. She was to be fed just enough to make sure she kept breathing. The doctor said it was the only way to keep her compliant after the ‘incident’.

  “Need to use the toilet?” Colby asked.

  She was already tidying up the scraps from the meal. Jessie gave a curt nod in response. She was too busy sucking her fingers clean to grunt. Colby noted Jessie ate enough at one sitting for both of them. It was a wonder she wasn’t sick.

  “Okay, I’ll lock you to the sink while I clean up this mess.”

  “Fine, Willis. Shackle me to the plumbing again like your personal fuckin' slave,” the woman let out an exasperated sigh. “I’ve been dreaming about sleeping in this bed for years. If you really think I’m going to make a run so close to that pillow then you’re dumber than I thought. But, fine. Go ahead and chain me down.”

  Colby leaned in close and gave her a conspiratorial wink as she unlocked the cuff secured tight around the bed post.

  “I ain’t stupid, Jessie so don’t you use the old tired sorry ass blah blah on me. You already slept plenty in your own bed while I went out on the take out run. So you can cross that item off your bucket list. I'm making sure you don’t go crossing off anything else while I try to get a little shut eye.”

  “What other item on my bucket list could I possibly cross off in here, Officer Willis? Oh, I know, maybe I could give you a blow job? I’ve always wanted to suck off a jackass. I’m dressed for it, don’t you think?”

  Colby could see that the woman was amused by the notion.

  “Baby girl, you have a dirty mind. And if you don’t watch it, I’m going to drag you into the bathroom and wash your mouth out with a bar of soap," Colby gave a deep dimpled smirk.

  "I’m referring to little things like … oh, kill a cop. Oops, better make that kill another cop.”

  Colby recognized the anger building in her. It was warm and familiar. It was the only thing she still had—a blind, mindless rage lurking just below her smile. The perfectly banked fire ready to burn everything she loved down to cinders and ash with the slightest stoking.

  Jessie glanced at Colby, but knew enough to hold her tongue. She could feel billowing waves of resentment coming off Colby’s skin, the smoldering heat threatening to ignite the cold embers within her. A wounded look crossed Jessie's brow before she regained her composure. She did not like the alien thoughts and feelings rippling through her mind. It had been much too long since she allowed herself to care about anything, anyone, much less someone as dangerous as Colby Willis.

  Once she was back in control, Jessie got to her feet with a slow painful deliberation hinting at her brewing emotions. Seething anger howled and swirled within her. She winced with the effort to tamp down her rage, revealing a weakness in her usually steely resolve.

  Seeing her adversary stumble like a sleepwalker, Colby could not resist the temptation to taunt.

  “Killers are just like dogs. After getting a taste of blood they just want more. It’s like candy to them. Can’t do nothin’ but put ‘em down after they bite. It’s kinder don’t you think? Shoot them in the head and put them out of their misery?”

  Jessie sidestepped Colby in an effort to get into the bathroom before the argument exploded. She knew Colby and recognized her black moods like the back of her hand. She was in no state to get caught up in another pointless quarrel. Colby thwarted her escape by standing directly in her path and snickering.

  “Leave me alone, Colby. I need to go to the bathroom.”

  Jessie didn’t struggle as Colby pushed her hard onto the bed, roughly pinning her down onto the mattress. The feel of the taller woman’s body pressed up against her breast and groin was almost sexual.

  “What’s the matter? No pithy come back? Thought you wanted to suck my pussy? Show me a good time. That’s all you’re good for isn’t it?”

  Jessie’s shoulders sagged at Colby's words. She was so tired of Colby. So sick of always having to defend herself against the person she thought should have protected her. Jessie turned to look directly at her tormentor. When she spoke, her voice was hollow as a sudden wind over an open grave.

  “No, Colby, I have no flashy come back line. What do you want from me? Some weepy TV confession? You want me to burst into tears and say you nailed my greatest fear right on the head? What do you want me to say? I killed my own Father? OK. I gutted my old man. I’m a fuckin’ cold blooded murderer and you’re right, one kill probably wouldn’t sate my appetite. So, if you want to shoot me in the back of my head like a rabid dog and end my fuckin’ nightmares once and for all, be my guest. Otherwise, can I please go to the bathroom? I’m gonna be sick.”

  Colby let Jessie go without another word. Marty had made a half bathroom out of Jessie’s bedroom closet when she hit twelve. He was always saying he had no intention of crapping in the yard because his kid was too busy putting on her make u
p to hear him banging on the door. Little did he know his efforts would one day save Colby the trouble of cleaning up after his little girl.

  Although the bitter taste of regret was fresh in her mouth, Colby stubbornly steeled herself from breathing life to the emotion by dragging the memory of Marty’s dead body to mind. The image of his vacant bloodshot eyes staring blindly into oblivion always left Colby cold enough to do the unthinkable. Today it hardened her enough to chain Jessie to the bathroom pipes and walk away as the woman she once loved vomited violently into the toilet.

  The door slam was reflex. She was certain it was only that and not her violent temper begging to be heard over the silence of her heartbreak. Cleaning up could wait as it always did. There were other more important things to do as she hurried out of the room heading straight for the stairs out to her car and the sweet comfort waiting under the driver’s seat.