“Seriously?”
“So I heard in Connecticut.”
“Anyway,” her client continues, “the contents in the bomb were not explosive according to the police report. They believe that the bomb was meant to be a threat. Nothing more. In any case, I’m very worried about my family’s safety. Our emergency funds are being depleted rapidly between the repair costs and the medical bills, and I’m not sure what to do anymore.”
“Have you thought about setting up security cameras around the property? Twin Sects Security on Jonas Avenue has great service and will even install for a small fee.”
“I can’t. Our house is a rental at the moment. I’m working with the owner to buy it, but the damages done by the culprit are leaving me at a standstill, close to a losing battle. In fact, anymore damage and my family may be forced to move out with no place to go or enough to afford a new place to live.”
“Can you show me the areas of the house that have been vandalized,” Jenne asks, putting the file on the coffee table.
“Sure,” Marius replies and leads the private detective through the house and out into the backyard, “I believed that you have seen the bushe and flower garden out front upon arriving. The tool shed is over there, and you can see where the culprit had buried the bomb.”
“Did you refill the hole upon discovery of the bomb or did the police refill it,” Jenne asks, kneeling before the small pile of upturned earth that had turned pale brown.
“The police told me I could after they had removed the bomb and checked the area for anymore evidence. I did not want my daughter tripping over it while playing out here.”
“I can already tell that this culprit is quite the amateur,” Jenne voices her thoughts, “The hole isn’t deep enough to cover the bomb I saw in the pictures and he didn’t even bother to save the grass to hide the evidence. Most likely it was meant to for youo find it and scare you. If he wanted to blow up the tool shed, the bomb would’ve been set under the tool shed without dirt to cover it up and damper the strength of the explosion. Still, only a novice would be so blunt.”
“We had to get new playground equipment after the damage that was done to the old one became beyond repair. The old equipment is by the garbage bins if you wish to see it. We have to wait until the Big Garbage Day to get rid of it.”
“I would like to take a look at it. It might hold more clues.”
“Of course,” Marius leads Jenne to the side of the house. Next to two large plastic garbage bins is a pile of metal pipes and plastic seats with metal chains and a long metal rectangular plate. Each had been done in the colors of blue and white and appears to have been an old version of playground equipment, seeing as the newer versions being sold and in parks are mainly made of plastic. Jenne observes the bent marks and chipped paint, the dents in what was once the slide and support beams, and the broken links in the chains that once were part of the swings. It is easy to see why it is easier to simply replace it rather than repair it. It is hard to find a store that will repair metal playground equipment, and those that do charge a lot to repair and even replace broken parts beyond repair. The reason being is that most people throw such equipment away and with plastic lasting much longer than metal that rusts after years of play and weather wear, companies no longer produce or sell metal playground equipment.
“I loved these old things when I was young,” the private detective muses aloud as she lifts up a metal pipe that was bent in different areas, “Simple, yet lots of fun when you can’t go to the park. They were meant to last forever, the paint protecting the metal from water damage. Of course, it wasn’t fun during the middle of a warm sunny day and the metal became hot.
“It looks like this was done by a variety of tools. Do you have a lock on your tool shed?”
“Yes, and I’ve checked it several times. It looks like no one had tried to get into it.”
“Smart. Bring his own tools and take them with him to avoid leaving fingerprints. Judging from the damage by the equipment and the garden, the pattern is a mix of rage and sick fun.”
“Sick... fun?”
“The kind of fun people get when destroying something that is precious to another or someone close to that person. The kind that is meant to break someone’s spirit. It is the kind of fun people that have a grudge against someone enjoy the most, like a bully that makes someone cry or a kid that breaks their sibling’s favorite toy because he or she is angry and wants to hurt the one he or she is angry at. If he or she is allowed to continue, he or she will be required to increase the damage done to the victim to get the same feeling of satisfaction he or she had felt the first time he or she has hurt.”
“Is... is my family in danger? If... if that is the case, then what should I do? Do you think it’s-“
“It’s not the one murdering the families on the other side of the city,” Jenne assures, “The damage here tells one half of the story and the threatening letters speak the other half of that story. I have an idea of what the culprit is after, but it will require a bit more investigating. I will be around the rest of the day and tonight if you have any more questions or information you would like to give me. I only ask that you allow me access to the property and for you and your family to go about your daily life as if nothing is happening. Act like I’m not here at all.”
“But... wouldn’t the culprit know you are here? Wouldn’t he see you?”
“No. The culprit’s too green to keep constant surveillance of the house. Also, so long as you act like I’m not a private detective, he’ll become confident and come to strike again. Rest assured, you will have results before there is any further damage to your home.”
“I thank you very much,” Marius sighs in relief, “Please... for the sake of my family... please stop the culprit.”
“Don’t worry. I will identify the culprit and help you put an end to this once and for all.”
Chapter 2
It is a relatively warm summer day in England. Children have finished their chores early in order to spend the rest of the day playing outside or swimming in the nearby river. Adults are working outside of their homes, enjoying the cool summer breeze and the bright sun. Merchants call out merrily as they sell their wares and travelers begin preparing for departure to different destinations, giving their farewells to their friends and loved ones alike. All seems peaceful in the village, but the closer one comes to Lord Babil’s castle, the more vacant the area seems with quiet screams being the only sound to be heard of from there.
A pair of soldiers guard the double doors leading into the throne room of the castle, the latest criminal begging for his life within rather loudly. Lord Babil has been sentencing prisoners since this morning, and it seems that he is not going to stop even for a meal. The smell of blood and soap grows stronger with each sentencing and it has become almost enough to be unbearable. It sets off the awaiting criminals of their soon-to-be fate and made them nervous and fidgeting. Even the soldiers are having a hard time keeping their composure.
The criminal within the throne room screams before the sound of metal hitting wood echoes loudly and cuts the scream off abruptly, the silence afterwards almost deafening. A few minutes later, the doors open and a couple of soldiers carry out a headless body, blood pouring out of the stump and staining the thick stone floor and carpet below. A servant follows behind them with the missing head, the eyes wide and full of fear and death. The solider guarding the doors to the right pales and feels his stomach lurch, bringing a hand to his mouth to keep from vomiting.
“Are you okay,” the soldier guarding the doors to the left asks his companion, appearing to not at all have been phased by the body or the smell.
“Yes,” the pale soldier replies once he feels safe enough to talk after the doors close, “How can Lord Babil stomach this every day? Every criminal that comes before him is sentence to death and he executes them, even for lesser crimes that only warrant a few days in the dungeon.”
“Quiet,” his fellow soldi
er scolds quietly as he looks around, “You know it is forbidden to speak of such matter when it comes to our lord. Look, I do not know why Lord Babil sentences the criminals to death or why he executes them personally. It’s just what he wants and his decision is final.”
“We’ll lose all the villagers if he continues to sentence criminals to death every time they come before him. Worse, what if word gets out? His Majesty King Henry will have us beheaded alongside Lord Babil if word of his actions reaches His Majesty’s ears.”
“That is why you need to keep quiet. Still, you may have a point. There have been more and more criminals as of late. Even the old and the young are filling up the dungeons every day to await sentencing. I don’t know what crimes they are committing, but I do know that the night sentries have been very busy catching them lately.”
“The villagers are not even happy with Lord Babil right now,” the soldier muses as he looks out a nearby window, “See how far they are from the castle? They are too terrified to come near it. No one comes to Lord Babil anymore for his assistance with their problems. Whenever the sentries go out on patrol, the villagers become scared and have difficulty completing their chores. They are at the church every morning, having funerals and praying for their lost loved ones. I even heard that the priest had to purchase more land to make another graveyard.”
“These trying days have affected us all, not just the villagers. My own wife will not talk to me without starting an argument, and even my own children are questioning me about my job. Me! Their own father! I cannot tell Lord Babil what is right or wrong, no matter how I feel about it. My position keeps my family fed, clothed, and warm. I cannot get a better position than this with any other lord. Regardless, I have to look out for the well-being of my family and our lord first, not everyone else.”
“Still... what about our souls? God will not forgive us for allow our lord to continue-“
“Quiet now. Not another word.”
Both soldiers resume their positions when the sounds of pleading reaches their ears. A pair of soldiers turn down their corridor and walk up to the double doors. Behind them is a young boy and a young girl, both appearing to be at an age when they should be looking for a spouse to marry. They are begging and pleading to be let go, their shackled wrists bleeding slightly and their clothes torn and dirtied. Tears fall from their frightened eyes, their voices choked with sobs. The first pair of soldiers stare coldly at the two, a hint of pity within the depths of their eyes. The message held in them is clear. There will be no help for either of them.
“Let in the next criminals,” they hear from the other side of the door.
Without hesitation, the first pair of soldiers open the double doors and let the second pair in, who drag the criminals behind them. The first pair of soldiers closes the doors and try to ignore the pleas and cries from the young criminals before Lord Babil.
However, their terrified screams suddenly silence by the swing of a metal blade will forever haunt their memories. The worse of it is that Lord Babil did not even speak of their crimes or give them a chance to explain their reasons for their crimes.
What is happening to their lord?
* * * *
After the morning lessons of the day as requested, the teacher excuses John and Richard from attending the afternoon classes. The Student Council member leads the new student through the hallways, explaining each room and hall they pass. Richard looks at ease with John, the reason most likely being is that the hallways are empty and all the students are in classes at the moment, focused on their studies. It’s not easy being the new student, much less a new student late to arrive in the school year. Many students are curious as to the reasons for his tardiness, and quite a few are blunt and would say the wrong thing at the wrong time without either a care or realizing what they have said is inappropriate. John seems to be a kind person, and has yet to question Richard about his personal life, which is to the relief of the taller young man. He had enough questions fired at him by the students earlier today and did not feel like answering anymore at the moment. The question about whether or not he is single by almost every girl he comes across still creeps him out.
“Here is the library,” John points to a pair of glass double doors, a slot on the left-hand side, “Despite the budget cuts over the last few years, the principle has fought long and hard to keep it open, as well as to keep the fiction section that other schools have eliminated from their libraries in order to keep them. Thanks to generous donations from the community, the library has been updated with computers and internet access. Most students spend their lunch period here either getting their homework done, studying for a test, or finding a place to hide and sleep. The librarians kick anyone off the computers if they are using them for recreational activities and there are students that need to do their work. Of course, that is only when there aren’t any computers available. If there are, then they don’t care.”
“What about after school,” Richard asks, “At my last school, the school was locked down after the students leave the building and we only have after school sports with all of our equipment in a large shed out in the back.”
“We have after school activities within and outside the school building once classes are over for the day, and on the weekends for sports. The janitor locks up once the activities are over and the last person leaves. Some students had tried to get locked in during the weekend for fun and for free Internet, but Ol’ Barnes catches them every time.”
“He’s that good?”
“They’re that dumb,” John laughs, “They tend to forget that the security cameras here can rotate at three-sixty degrees, so there are no blind spots. Also, the drop ceilings make the worst places to hide, especially if they weight a lot.”
“You’re shittin' me,” Richard exclaims, “Anyone get hurt from falling down?”
“Not too badly from what I was told. The last kid missed the desks and the chairs. He got away with a broken wrist.”
“Still, to go that far for free Internet... I think I can understand. I can get a signal on my laptop anywhere in my hometown. How come it’s so difficult for me to access the Internet anywhere outside my house?”
“It could be because not everyone has Wi-Fi or a wireless router in their homes. The cable company around here charges a mint for Internet service, the wireless router included. It’s just easier to use the public library’s Wi-Fi, the school library’s computers, and even the local coffee shops for free Wi-Fi. I have Internet at home due to my sister’s job, but I sometimes use the library’s computers if I have to stay late for the Student Council meetings.”
“What does your sister do for a living?”
“She is a private detective.”
“Really? Kinda strange occupation for a woman.”
“Not really. She was originally a police officer that got promoted to police detective, but she quit after she and her boss got into it over a situation after solving a certain case three years ago. I don't know all the details, but I do know that the boss was fired shortly afterwards. Jenne doesn’t talk about it, so I don’t mention it.”
‘Strange,’ Richard thought, ‘I wonder what had happened? What about their parents? Do they all live together, or do they live alone?’
“The fourth floor is the science division,” the shorter young man continues, pointing towards a stairwell, “All the classrooms up there are designed as laboratories. We can’t go up there right now due to class being in session. Outside in the back is the sports field, which includes a soccer/football field, track, tennis court, and a baseball field.”
“Do you play any sports?”
“Nah. Don’t really have the time nor the build to. You?”
“Baseball. I may not look it, but I do have a good swing and a good batting average. My former coach told me that with a little more practice, I might get a scholarship at a good college. Maybe even be scouted for the majors someday.”
“Nice. You will fit in with the te
am here. The season’s over now, but they will be practicing indoors during the winter months. Gotta warn you. Many of those guys are hardcore Pittsburg Pirate fans.”
“A real shame. I’m from New York, so I’m a Mets fan.”
Both young men share a laugh, imagining what the baseball team members’ reaction will be if they were to find out. After a moment, they stop laughing and take a minute to calm themselves.
“By the way,” John said, remembering something, “Did the teachers bring you up-to-date with the current lessons?”
“Um...” Richard thinks for a minute, “No. I only have the notes from today’s classes and I have the outline of the year’s lessons from this morning. That’s about it.”
“If you want, you can come over to my place for dinner and copy my notes tomorrow night. I rarely miss a day of school, so they’re up-to-date.”
“That’s very generous of you, but you don’t really have to. I’m sure that I can catch up in time.”
“It’s not really a problem. To be honest, I was also wondering if you can be my study partner as well. I’m having some trouble in geometry.”
“That is not the way to make friends off the bat,” Richard scolds, a bit angry that John would ask this all so suddenly when they do not know each other, “You’re too forward and using a bribe to get help. Didn't your parents teach you better?”
“Sorry,” John laughs nervously as he rubs the back of his head in embarrassment, “I’ve never had any male friends, so I don’t really know how to invite one for dinner or be my friend.”
“No male friends? Why not? You seem very nice to me.”
“Thanks. Everyone’s wary of those in the Student Council due to an accident a few years ago that included a member of the Student Council. I’m sure you heard the rumors, and I was not here when it happened, but almost every student is afraid of it happening to them.”
Hell's Detective: Murder Page 3