A Soul in Torment

by D. J Marteeny

  Chapter 7

  Evangeline awoke with a start, the pain in her chest causing her to gasp for air. What a nightmare, she thought as she sat in the middle of her queen size bed, strange images of vampires, wolves and monsters appearing in her mind’s eye. Her right hand rubbed the spot directly between her breasts in an attempt to ease the pain she still felt. She knew she was as healthy as a horse. The department had made it mandatory that they all have a complete physical once a year. She’d had hers last week and had passed with flying colors but the pain in her chest was real. Not imagination—not a dream but a sharp, intense pain just beneath her left breast.

  Indigestion—that had to be it. What did I eat last night? She thought back to the night before remembering that she’d been too busy to have a decent meal so she’d stopped off at a street side vendor and had, not one but two, chili cheese dogs—with fries. “I guess that explains it,” she whispered to no-one in particular and, still rubbing her chest, she tossed the covers aside and climbed out of bed.

  The radio alarm clock on her bedside table flashed the time, seven forty five, in bright red numbers much to her dismay. “Great—not only don’t I feel well but I’m going to be late for my appointment if I don’t get a move on,” she said aloud as she ran around the room, opening drawers and tossing items of clothing onto the bed. Running into the bathroom, she managed to emerge thirty minutes later clean, coifed, and made up (she didn’t even smudge her mascara as she did most mornings when she had more time). Dressing quickly, she grabbed her black leather jacket as she flew out the door, making it to the subway platform just as the car was ready to leave the station.

  “Whew—that was a close call,” she said, grabbing the handrail to balance herself as the car jolted to a start. She was holding on tightly when she realized the pain in her chest had completely disappeared. Strange, she thought but attributed it to the large glass of milk she’d made herself drink before she dashed out the door that morning. I think I’ll wait a little while before I have my morning coffee, she thought as she let her eyes drift over the other passengers on the subway car.

  Next to her a toddler was fidgeting in his mother’s arms, his large blue eyes scanning the car for the next great adventure. In his chubby little hands he held a bottle of juice and a well loved plush dog that was missing its right eye. Beside him sat an elderly gentleman, his black yarmulke knocked slightly askew when the child brushed up against it. The man eyed the child with a sour expression as he awaited the next intrusion into his personal space.

  Evangeline smiled at the mischievous boy receiving an impish grin in return as he buried his face in his mother’s shoulder. For a brief moment, Evangeline felt a pang of regret at the thought of children and becoming a mother. There never seemed to be enough time in her busy life to meet someone and fall in love. And when she did—her career scared most of them off. I guess marriage and a family just aren’t in the cards right now and, as it usually did when she thought about having kids, her thoughts turned to her own mother but she dismissed them quickly with a shake of her blond head.

  At each stop the subway was flooded with more and more riders. Soon Evangeline found herself being suffocated by wave after wave of stale cigarette smoke, cherry lip gloss and cheap cologne. Damn, she swore to herself as her stomach churned in revolt. Normally she wouldn’t find herself in this situation. She didn’t take the subway if she could help it but finding a parking spot at the Medical Examiner’s office at this time of morning was virtually impossible so she decided to leave her car at home. So, taking a deep breath, she sucked it up and mentally prepared herself for the rest of the ride.

  She reached her destination a short time later, spilling out of the car at Thirty Third and Lexington along with a rush of other passengers. Stepping out onto the crowded sidewalk she took a deep breath of what she hoped was fresh air but, instead, inhaled the odor of exhaust fumes, white cheddar popcorn and Polish sausage. “New York—you gotta love it,” she said with a slight cough.

  Gaining her bearings, she turned and headed towards the O.C.M.E’S office near N.Y.U. “Damn it,” once again she swore as she stumbled slightly, realizing her tight black skirt and black suede platform heels were the wrong choice for traversing the crowds that clogged the city’s sidewalks. She looked down as a pain shot through her little toe just as a well dressed man in a grey suit slammed into her shoulder almost dropping the cell phone attached to his face. He shot her a dirty look then continued on with the flow of people. “Next time I’ll drive parking space or not,” she mumbled under her breath.

  “Finally,” Eva said as she reached the O.C.M.E., the painted brick façade of gauche aqua contrasting against the grey, red, and granite of the buildings surrounding it. She slipped through the glass doors and headed for the elevators. Five minutes later she entered the autopsy room just in time to see Jordan Asbury carefully lifting a brain from a body lying on the metal examining table. The corpse resembled a gutted fish except for the pale young face that had once been somebody. Giles, the O.C.M.E., was bent over a pile of papers at his own desk, scribbling furiously. He looked up only when he heard Evangeline approaching.

  “Ah, Eva, come to see me have you?” Giles couldn’t hide the pleasure in his voice as the long-legged detective walked towards him. He brushed the hair from his eyes, adjusting his glasses as he rose to meet her.

  Eva absently answered Giles, her eyes still watching his assistant intently as he continued to work on this latest corpse. “Yes, I wanted to see if you’d found out anything useful on the Ramirez case.” Suddenly she stopped short, gasping at the sight of another body, or what was left of it, lying on the table next to Jordan. “My god, what the hell happened to her?”

  “Well now, that’s the question, isn’t it?” the M.E. replied as they strolled over to the corpse, “Do you want to know what I really think or what the powers that be would want me to tell you?”

  “I want the truth, Giles, as always.”

  “Alright then, in my professional opinion, I’d say she was torn apart by a wild animal. All her injuries point to that. They found the poor dear under some bushes over in Central Park. But what has me stumped is there are no animals in that vicinity that could do this kind of damage. So you tell me what happened to her?” Giles said as he touched what was left of the woman’s arm. “She was literally torn to pieces and that’s not the worst of it.”

  “It’s not?” Evangeline asked in disbelief.

  “No—it’s not. Look close, Eva—notice anything out of the ordinary?”

  “You mean other than a mutilated body that’s been ripped to shreds by an animal that’s non-existent—no? What am I looking for?”

  “Well, along with all of her obvious injuries—there’s part of her that’s missing.”

  “Missing,” Eva said as she dragged her eyes back over the corpse of the dead woman.

  “Exactly—it seems her heart was literally torn right out of her chest—and it still hasn’t been found.” Giles informed her.

  “What!” Evangeline wasn’t sure she’d heard her friend correctly.

  “It’s true.” Jordan said, turning away from the scale. “She must have been in the park jogging judging by what’s left of her clothes. That’s when someone—or something—did this to her. Looks like they took the heart as a souvenir or something.”

  Evangeline had thought she’d seen it all in her many years on the force. But this kind of brutality—it was—well, it was barbaric. “Do they have any leads?”

  “None yet—the investigation is—ongoing.” Giles said. She had to turn away from the broken body in order to focus on her reason for coming.

  “Ongoing, yeah—that’s what they say when they’ve got nothing. Is Miller in charge?”

  “Yes.”

  “Figures— anyway, back to Ramirez. Any clues as to what killed him?”

  “That�
�s another mystery, I’m afraid, my dear. Besides the nasal crusting and some constriction of blood vessels, from what I assume was his cocaine use, he was perfectly healthy. It’s like his heart just stopped for no reason.”

  “At least it was still in his body but—a supposedly healthy heart doesn’t just quit functioning.” Eva said but Giles just lifted an eyebrow letting her know he was well aware of that fact. “You’ve gotta give me something—anything— to go on, Doc.”

  Giles, sensing Eva’s frustration, placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze as he reached for his clipboard, perusing his notes. “I’m sorry, Eva, that’s all I have. If it’s any consolation, Miller wasn’t happy with my findings either.”

  “Miller—Miller couldn’t find a clue if it jumped up and bit him on the ass. With him in charge it’ll be a long time before anyone has any answers,” spat Eva, as Jordan snickered. Then she heard the sound of someone clearing his throat—and they were standing directly behind her. With a sigh she turned to face the one man she really didn’t want to deal with right now.

  “Hello Evangeline—here on official task force business, I assume?” Miller asked, slithering his way into the room. Eva could feel her skin begin to crawl as he came nearer. “Funny thing—when I made inquiries at the mayor’s office no-one knew anything about your so-called drug task force. Why do you suppose that is?”

  “Maybe, when they considered the source of the inquiry, they decided the less information they gave out the better. It’s not the kind of news they want broadcast throughout the five boroughs,” said Eva sweetly. Jordan smirked at Evangeline’s wise crack then, realizing Miller was watching him, turned quickly back to the corpse he’d been working on.

  “You think you’re so smart, Meredeloupe.” Miller barked, barely keeping his anger in check. “You’ll change your tune when I tell the chief how you’ve been interfering with my homicide investigation.”

  Evangeline, ignoring Miller, walked over to Gile’s desk, picking up the file that was lying there. Taking her time, she pretended to read through it knowing all the while that her indifference was driving the other detective crazy. After a few minutes she closed the file and, dropping it onto the top of the desk, she turned to face Miller. “Let me make something perfectly clear to you, de-tec-tive,” she said as she poked his chest with the tip of her finger. “Before this was a homicide, Ramirez was a suspect in my investigation and I have every right to know what happened to one of mine. So go tattle to anyone you want to. It won’t change a thing.”

  She watched with immense satisfaction as the vein in Miller’s temple began to pulsate, a red blush traveling up his neck to engulf his face completely. “Fucking bitch,” he whispered under his breath as he turned and stormed out of the room.

  “Peacock,” hissed Evangeline. If I didn’t have to deal with the likes of him maybe I could actually do my job.”

  Giles shook his head as he shuffled through some loose papers in the top drawer of his filing cabinet. Looking over at her, he warned, “Watch out for that one, Eva, he’s more than just unpleasant and he could make your life a living hell if he wanted too. Now, getting back to the matter at hand, I do remember something odd about your Mr. Ramirez.” He turned, walking towards a bank of large, steel drawers built into the back wall. Reading the labels, he pulled open the last one withdrawing a long black bag, definitely not empty, lying atop a steel slab. Unzipping the bag, he revealed the pale, lifeless face of Guillermo Ramirez.

  “He had a strange mark right there…” he said, pointing, “…directly in the middle of his forehead. I have no clue what it is or how it got there.”

  Evangeline leaned in for a closer look. “It kind of looks like a cigarette burn—is it?”

  “If it is, it’s an odd place for one but I don’t think that’s what it is. It’s too large and, what’s really interesting is it looks like a finger print. See these loops and arches here. It’s as if someone simply touched him…”

  “…and he fell over dead,” Evangeline finished for him.

  “Exactly,” Giles whispered as the two stared at each other.

  “That’s—that’s crazy.” Eva said, shaking her head in confusion as she turned to go. Just keep at it, Giles—and call me if anything else turns up.”

  “Will do, Eva.”

  Riding down in the elevator, Eva couldn’t get her mind off the strange mark on Guillermo’s forehead. It was obvious, after closer examination, that it was some type of burn but from what? And Giles was right, it did look like a finger print but no-one I know can burn someone with a touch of his finger, she thought. Frustrated with the lack of results, she proceeded through the front door after exiting the elevator. “Too many questions and not enough answers,” she mumbled, stepping outside as a passerby gave her a strange look.

  The blast of her cell phone snapped Eva back to attention as the chorus “Can’t read my…” from Lady Gaga’s Poker Face reached her ears. She yanked open the large black purse, rumbling through the contents until she found the offending object. Seeing Shaniqua’s name in bold black letters she placed the phone to her ear saying, “Talk to me.”

  “Eva, it’s me. I found the girl—the one that was with Ramirez. Miller’s got her stashed at D. J.J. (Department of Juvenile Justice) in the Bronx until he gets what he needs from her.”

  “Then what?”

  “Not sure—I think Miller gave the order to ship her back home. He doesn’t seem to think she’s very important to his case.” Shaniqua informed her.

  Evangeline slapped the brick façade of the building she was leaning against in frustration.

  “Miller is such an idiot. If that girl disappears we’ll never find out what happened to Ramirez. Where are you? I’m without a car.”

  “Not far away, I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.”

  * * * * *

  The room was cold, stark—void of any touch of humanity, its sole purpose to house those who’ve committed sins against society. The grey of the cinder block walls had long since been covered over, painted with institution green. The musty odor that comes from years of stale damp air permeated every inch of the place. Two beds, separated by a single night stand, were the only pieces of furniture that decorated the barren room.

  Selene sat on the lumpy bed picking at the chipped black polish covering her thumb nail. In the other bed, Chrissie, Selene’s roommate, lay on her back, her light blue eyes staring up at the ceiling tiles with a bored expression. Time passed agonizingly slow at Bridges, another name for the Institution, and the two girls, strangers until fate had thrown them together that morning, had little to say to each other. A slight movement in front of her caught Selene’s eye.

  “Hey Babe.”

  Selene looked up from her pre-occupation with her nails to see Guillermo perched at the foot of the bed. With a gasp she recoiled in fear when she realized who it was. Staring, wide eyed, at the familiar face she couldn’t help but notice the red eyes and the small black singe mark directly in the center of his forehead.

  “G—nno—it can’t be. Who—who are you?” she stuttered in fear.

  “Hey man—who the hell ‘r’ you? Yer not supposed to be in here.” Chrissie shouted from across the room when she noticed Selene’s shocked expression. She jumped off the bed, screaming as she ran for the doorway. “Matron, hey—we need a little help here!”

  Guillermo turned to look at the girl, his red eyes glowing in the pale light. Raising his hand he snapped his fingers and Chrissie instantly dropped to the floor in a dead faint. With a chuckle he turned back to Selene, “Now we’re all alone—did ya miss me?”

  Selene scooted backwards on the bed until she was pressed up against the wall, her knees drawn up under her chin. She tried to wrap her confused mind around what she’d just witnessed. I must be dreaming, she told herself as she squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt t
o rid herself of the apparition staring back at her. A tear rolled down her cheek but she flicked it away with the back of her hand. Slowly she opened one eye, then the other but the figure was still there—perched like a bird at the foot of her bed.

  “You’re—G’s dead. I don’t know who you are but you ain’t him.”

  Then, as she watched in horror, the figure before her began to shimmer and fade until the façade of Guillermo was completely gone. In its place Selene recognized the old man from the park. “Ah, my dear, I see by the look on your face that you know me. We met in the park—remember?”

  Selene’s eyes grew wide with terror. “You’re—you’re the one—the one who killed ‘G’.” Her grasp on reality slowly began to fade as the figure before her morphed yet again. Seated before her now was a much younger man, his long hair pulled back in a ponytail, his chin covered in a thick black goatee. He was dressed in a dark suit and blood red tie. The only things that remained the same were his eyes—those burning red eyes—and they were staring straight at Selene.

  “Jeezus,” she muttered as she stuffed her fist into her mouth, her fear all consuming.

  “Oh let’s not bring Him into this. I just wanted to make sure I had your attention—and now that I have…” the apparition said as he played with a tuft of hair growing out of his palm, “…I have a proposition for you, my scrumptious Selene.”