by Deryck Jason
Looking down at the door then quickly back to Jacobs, Matthew shook his head.
“What do you mean no? Open it!”
Matthew shook his head again. He was turning pale.
“Look…”
Jacobs tried to whisper rationally despite his frustration. He felt that between Matthew and the receptionist, he was doing very well to keep his cool.
“There could be a person in there. Ralph Murray could be hurt and we might need to help him. I would open the door myself but I can’t. I need to be ready with my gun just in case it’s not Ralph Murray in there…just in case it’s something else. Now open the damn door!”
Matthew took a breath and stepped towards the drawer. Lifting the handle he pulled the drawer open sharply. There was dull click and Matthew held it there, not wanting to pull it open. He felt the pressure from Jacobs stare, took a labored breath and pulled. Matthew’s eyes widened, he reeled back in horror, their was a face in there he did not expect to see.
The cold dead blue eyes of his father flashed through his mind as he collapsed, wincing to the chilly linoleum floor. Jacobs lowered his gun to get a better look, he was equally as shocked over what he saw, but for different reasons. Trauma took over Matthew’s brain for a fleeting moment; his father was not in there. It was Ralph the coroner, he was stone dead but looking a lot more colorful than usual.
“How could someone do this?”
Jacobs spoke out loud as he looked down at the body of Ralph Murray, the man who signed off on Andy Williams’ death report. Neither man could take their eyes off of the grotesque face before them for a long minute. Jacobs finally broke his stare and scanned the high walls in the room, spotting surveillance camera.
“Come on Matthew let’s go.”
Matthew hurried past the open drawer, following Jacobs to the front desk.
“Where’s your security monitors?”
Jacobs yelled at the receptionist and slammed his hands on the desk for effect. There was no more time for insolence.
“Um...back there!” The receptionist said, gesturing to a room behind her.
Jacobs stormed round and looked at the four monitors, which were designed to guard the building and its people.
“What good are security cameras if no-one’s watching them?”
Jacobs thought out loud while trying to rewind the tape from the examination room.
MacNamee sat outside the house of Matthew Bizet as Oates organized the cops inside. The old Sheriff was having a quite word with Brady.
“Look, we need to keep the town running as normal while we take care of this. The station will be out of use for the next few days while we try to catch these things.”
Brady nodded along, he was aware of what was going on, they all were. He knew the key was to keep panic levels to a minimum.
“Deputy Lynch will be at the station with us later, so I need you to keep things going round here.”
Oates said this part loud enough in front of some of the other officers, knowing they would respect his decision to put Brady in charge for the time being.
Jacobs watched the coroner perform an autopsy on a woman who died of a suspected heart attack a couple of days earlier. Speeding up the tape he watched Ralph finish up what he was doing and wheel the old lady over to the fridge, transferring her from the gurney to the drawer with only the slightest effort. Jacobs’ cycled through the footage, watching him clean up his area, putting some disposable tools away and sterilizing others. From behind him, Ralph the coroner was knocked the ground, something had struck him on the back of the head putting his down instantly. The way he was standing initially blocked the view of the perpetrator, but when he fell, Jacobs saw who hit him. Basket stood over the old man laughing. The clown dragged the old man over to the operating table and started to lift him up. While panting (which was all for comedy value) Basket lifted the 230 pound Murray up onto the operating table. Basket pushed his torso onto the table first, then flicked his legs on. Once he was lying flat on the table Basket pulled a long string of handkerchiefs out of his sleeve, laughing while he did. He tied the old man’s hands together under the table and put a wrap around his legs and throat. Still out cold, the aged coroner could do nothing as Basket jumped on top of him, ripped open his lab coat and tore his shirt open to reveal his pale chest sprinkled with grey-black hairs. The clown looked straight at the camera and grinned widely as if he knew Jacobs would be watching. His designed child-friendly appearance was immediately shattered by his murderous expression and demented laugh. Putting one hand behind his back he rummaged through his trouser pockets.
“Ouch!”
Basket yelled brashly as he pulled out a long needle and a ball of blue string. With a cackle he started diving the needle into the old man’s chest, skillfully fashioning his torso into a waistcoat. Jacobs, watching, bit his fist. Matthew turned away periodically. Only incapacitated, Ralph Murray awoke suddenly to found his skin being pierced repeatedly. Shock grabbed him first because he didn’t feel any pain. It was only when he fully came to his senses that he realized what was happening and the pain struck him hard. Allowing no time for breath he screamed shrilly. Jacobs immediately had more hatred for the receptionist who was clearly out on her break while this was going on despite the fact Murray had told her not to. As the old coroner screamed and shook violently Basket stopped what he was doing and looked at the camera again.
“Oopsy!”
The clown yelled comically as he looked around for something to gag the man with. Finding nothing close by the clown shoved his arm in Murray’s mouth. In a single act of self-defense the old man bit down hard into Basket’s soft material arm. Although this could not possibly have hurt him, Basket still performed some over the top antics for his audience; flailing his arm about as if he was starring in a pantomime. Comically, he started slapping Ralph for “being bad” while the old man screamed for help. Ignoring the cries Basket pondered his options. After what seemed like deep thought he stuck up one finger in a “eureka” moment, as if a great light bulb of an idea had suddenly appeared above him. Basket grabbed his own big red nose and with quick tug, detached it, exposing grotesque bone like material underneath. He took his nose and shoved it in Murray’s mouth, turning his screams into muffled grunting.
“It’s ok it’s ok…” cried Basket “…you can borrow it!”
The clown rolled back its head into a shrill laugh and went back to stitching Murray’s chest. After an agonizing few minutes Basket was finished. He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a make-up kit and started applying color, similar to his own onto the old man’s cheeks and around the eyes. Then he lifted a scalpel that sat, once sterile beside the table and started slicing into the sides of his mouth. Holding the old man’s head still, Basket peeled back the flesh around the teeth, exposing them to the elements and turning his face into a permanent grin. As Ralph Murray’s strength began to waiver, Basket decided to finish off the transformation. He tossed the scalpel between his hands, teasing the old man who was still conscious enough to watch. With a thrust then a sawing motion, Basket carved the letter X over both Murray’s eyes, imitating the archetypal dead clown image. Murray could not protest at all, after the first eye was finished. He was not quite dead but he certainly could not feel any more pain. He had reached the threshold after his eye was cut into. He was out cold, helpless, but he would not be alive much longer. Jacobs watched as Basket finished up the second eye and jumped down. Sprinting, he grabbed the gurney and rolled it alongside Murray. Ripping off the handkerchiefs that held him down, Basket rolled his body onto the cart and pushed him over to the fridge. Thoughtfully selecting the drawer, he rolled the old man onto the table and fixed his appearance to make sure he still looked “good” for whoever found him. Lastly he ran to the temperature control and turned it down to the coldest it would go, laughing as he did. With an over the top wave to the camera he ran out the door into the hallway.
After witnessing this horror, Jacobs wonder
ed if the receptionist was there, but was just too stupid to notice a clown run past her.
Graham and Murdoch were an excellent partnership within the force. Each provided a complimentary skill set to the other which allowed them to boast more solved cases than any other team, despite the fact they were still in their late twenties. Graham was an athletic young man, often found in the pool in between shifts. A few years into his career he was chasing a suspected housebreaker through the outskirts of the city. Realizing he was soon to be caught the suspect made a rash decision which he thought would spare him. He jumped into the river. As the suspect swam, thinking he was getting away, he was horrified to see Detective Graham remove his jacket, shoes and pants and dive in after him. When back up arrived they found a semi-clothed, wet Graham pinning down a tired an equally wet suspect. As it turned out the perp was a serial burglar with connections to a high profile bank heist some years earlier. The information the police obtained from him put at least three other wanted criminals behind bars. Despite the fact his colleagues gave him a hard time for being caught partially naked with a suspect he received a commendation for his bravery and quickly appeared on the radar of his superiors. On the other hand, Perry Murdoch, while not as athletic was very astute. Taking his time to go over cases in meticulous detail he was able to spot patterns in behavior, leading to some high profile arrests. About six months before coming to Staunton, a brilliant observation by Murdoch led to the arrest of the infamous “Alley-Cat Killer.” A series of young women were found murdered in alleys across the city. At first it seemed the only connection the body’s had was that they were female and they were found in similar places but, on a hunch, Murdoch looked at the locations of where the bodies were found on a map, marked them and joined up the dots forming what appeared to be an incomplete circle. Then, on that same hunch he cross referenced the route with those of the city’s sanitation department, leading the investigation to a garbage man who had been leaving bodies near dumpsters on his route so he could revisit them the next day. There was talk of the FBI being interested in him as a behavioral analyst; that was if he decided to apply. Either way, both young detectives were well known to their superiors, both were on the promotion list.
Now the cops were helping to solve a different case. Using Oates directions they pulled up outside Earl’s bar in search of a couple of names on a list. The sun wasn’t letting up as they entered, laying heavy beams on top of them. In silence the two moved round towards Earl’s, quietly Murdoch wondered whether the aftermath of their case here in Staunton would be good or bad for their careers.
Bars always smelled worse in the afternoon Graham noticed; perhaps it was because of the sun shining through the window, adding some warmth to the slightly stale air, or maybe it was because Earl’s didn’t seem to be big on opening windows, instead choosing to run the A/C. Although it was clear the floor had been recently mopped, there was still a general musk in the air, which no one seemed to mind except the two cops. Graham walked right up to the bar and flashed identification at the bartender.
“Hello, I’m detective Graham; I’m looking for a bartender named Billy.”
Billy looked back at the cop.
“Billy Devreaux, that’s me. What can I do for you officers?”
“We’re here to take you into protective custody.”
Billy crossed his arms.
“Why would I need that?”
Murdoch stepped in.
“We know what happened to the owner of the bar. We came from the city to help catch the thing that did it, as well as the others.”
“There are others?” Billy asked, showing nerves for the first time.
Murdoch nodded. Billy shook his head.
“Still, I don’t think I’ll need it. Thanks anyway guys but I’m staying put. I’m gonna stay here and run the bar, I can take care of myself.”
“You know…” Graham said, “…we could force you to come with us.”
Billy looked at the two men studiously. Both looked as if they could give him a run for his money in a confrontation. But their faces did not harbor aggression and Billy saw that right away.
“I know you could, but you won’t. I’m not doing anything wrong by not going with you. It’s my choice to make.”
“Look, you’re endangering the lives of others by not coming with us.”
“Endangering the lives of who? Tony Oates and his friends? They’re the ones that caused all this; it’s their fault Earl’s dead! As far as I’m concerned, they’re dead already. Nope, sorry guys, I’m not leaving.”
A beautiful brunette walked back from the washroom and pulled up a seat at the bar. All the eyes in the bar followed her movements but she didn’t care, she was used to the attention. She lit a cigarette and seized up the two cops. Having caught the tail end of the conversation she decided to join in.
“Billy is very stubborn; you won’t make him change his mind.”
“I’m sorry mam, but who are you?”
Billy answered for her while she took a drag of her cigarette.
“This is Donna, my fiancée.”
Donna nodded gently as an introduction. Graham and Murdoch paused a moment while taking in the beauty of Donna. After all, they were excellent cops but they were also men. After a moment Murdoch spoke to her.
“I guess no-one’s informed you of the state law banning smoking in public indoor places.”
Graham wanted to shoot his partner a scolding look but he thought better of it. He knew Murdoch was right but he also knew there were more pressing matters at hand. Donna simply smiled.
“I’m sure you have bigger things to worry about that one little cigarette detective.”
Graham smiled, then immediately wiped it off his face, realizing his moment of weakness. He quickly decided he should back up his partner.
“You know mam, just by being with Billy; your life will be in danger too.”
Donna cocked her head and looked straight at Billy, feigning shock.
“You never told me that!”
She then looked back at the cops.
“Sorry guys, I’m not going anywhere without him, and he’s not leaving here so I think you’re outta luck.”
Murdoch sighed, shifting his gaze from the ballsy Donna (who was clearly no stranger to trouble) to the stubborn Billy.
“How do you plan on keeping yourself safe?”
“We’ll be fine gents. Donna will stay here with me all day till it’s over”
“And what about after that? You’ll have to sleep sometime!”
“It’s alright; I don’t let Billy get much sleep…” Donna smirked.
“And if anything comes in to the bar again, I’ll give them a little of this…”
Billy turned quickly, picked up his bat and swung and wielded it in front of the detectives. Neither Graham nor Murdoch liked the fact he was staying behind but they could not force him to go with them. Billy clearly worked out and felt confident in the fact he could protect both himself and his fiancé but the cops weren’t convinced. The dolls seemed to kill with absolute ease; after all, the body count was stacking in their favor.
“Well…” Graham said in a last effort to change Billy’s mind. “Good luck then, I hope your batting skills are enough to save both your lives.”
Billy smiled.
“Come on fellas give me some credit.”
Reaching under the bar surface he pulled out a pump action shotgun.
“You didn’t think I just had a bat under here did you?”
The fact that Billy seemed so comfortable holding the powerful weapon did in fact put the detectives at ease. However they would still have preferred him to come with them.
“Ok fine, stay here.” Murdoch relented “But do us one favor…”
“Anything…” said Billy; mocking the fact they couldn’t make him leave.
“Tell us where to find Brian Bichel.”
Billy leaned on the bar top and pointed across the room.
“
You see that sad little creature over there?”
The detectives turned their gaze to Brian, sitting nursing a drink, alone in a booth.
“Been in here every day since Jimmy was killed, I’m pretty sure his girlfriend wants nothing to do with him too.”
“Who’s his girlfriend?” Graham asked.
“Anne something”
Murdoch and Graham shared a look, knowing full well Anne was on their list too. Before the detectives turned their attention to Brian, Murdoch turned to Billy.
“If you change your mind, come down to the Sheriff station.”
Billy nodded as Murdoch and Graham turned to the booth.
“Mr. Bichel?”
Brian turned to them. His eyes looked wary, as if he hadn’t been sleeping very well.
“Yes?”
“I’m Detective Murdoch, this is Detective Graham. We were wondering if you would come with us.”
“Why? Have I done something wrong?”
The question seemed to be lost on the detectives who did not know enough to be able to tell Brian that what he had done wrong was bring this terrible plight upon his town.
“No no, nothing like that. Look Mr. Bichel, let me be blunt.” (Murdoch wanted this approach to have more success than it did with Billy) “We have a list of names. On it are people who are at risk of harm from these things, which are killing in town. What we’re doing is bringing the people on that list to the Sheriff station where they will be safe until this whole thing is over with.”
“Ok, sounds good. Take me in!”
Murdoch and Graham were surprised by how easy this conversation was compared to Billy’s.
“Ok so if you’d like to follow us, we’re parked outside. We’ll make sure you’re safe.”
Brian headed towards the door, followed by Graham and Murdoch. Donna blew a thick plume of smoke into the air and called after them
“Bye detectives!”