“So what would you have done with him had I not interfere and spoke the truth to him,” her companion inquires, an angry look upon her face, “Would you have left that boy at the hands of that mob, ignorant of the truth?”
“My job does not include teaching criminals morals and how stupid they are for believing everything someone tells them and not get all the facts straight before taking action.”
“That child would’ve been tortured by that crowd and be sentence to prison! He would have to pay for the sins of the pastor.”
“As I recall, we are all responsible for our own sins, not the sins of others. You want to stop the pastor from brainwashing today’s youth, be my guest. Don’t forget that all U.S. citizens have the freedom of speech and what he preaches may be legal... so long as he isn’t torturing people or dumping illegal drugs down their throats.”
“So you are going to let this go? Allow the bud of evil to grow and spread its seeds, poisoning the city and murdering any good within it?”
“I am no longer a police officer Lilia,” Jenne sighs as they reach her car, opening the driver-side door, “As far as the legal system is concerned, I don’t have the authority to enforce the law on anyone anymore. I’m just a private detective now, a citizen that makes her living by taking pictures and finding lost things and solving mysteries that are not part of a police case.”
“Those who see evil and do nothing are in turn the greatest evil of them all,” Lilia nearly hisses, her glare darkening.
“Speaking from experience,” the private detective shots back neutrally as she turns to face the young social worker, but she finds herself all alone and Lilia nowhere in sight, “The Batman Disappearing Trick is out of style now too.”
Giving off a yawn, Jenne gets into her car and starts the engine. She drinks the last bit of her cold coffee before turning on the headlights and driving away. With any luck, she will miss all the red lights and get home quickly before she falls asleep in her car. Waking up to an accident is not something she feels like she can handle at the moment.
“It’s going to be a hot day in the morning.”
* * * *
Not far from the Tsudale community, a quiet suburb is visited upon by a figure wearing black clothing and has a back pack in one hand. He walks towards a house that is between a corner apartment and a house that had a convenient store on the first floor. He kneels before the side door and places his back pack down. He opens the screen door and unzips his back pack, pulling something out. He pushes the item through the bottom of the side door, carefully feeding it through. Satisfied, he puts his hand back into the back pack, a soft clicking sound echoing in the silence of the night. He stands and steps away from the door, closing the screen door quietly.
The figure stands near the door for several minutes, occasionally glancing at the street. No cars come by, not even a stray animal patrolling down the sidewalk. He pulls out a small notebook and a pen, writing a quick sentence before putting it back into his pants pocket. He looks at his wrist before opening the screen door and kneeling again. He puts his hand back into the back pack, creating the clicking sound once again. He pulls the item he slipped under the door earlier out and puts it back into the back pack. He pulls out another object and inserts it into the lock. He fiddles with the object for a minute before hearing a soft click. He puts the object away and picks up his back pack, opening the door and glancing at the street one more time before entering the house and closing both doors behind him. Twenty minutes later, the figure peeks outside from the side door. Still seeing no one, he slips out of the house and closes the doors behind him. He crosses the street and disappears into the shadows of the houses.
* * * *
The sky begins to lighten as a young girl in her late teens walks down the street, delivering newspapers to the houses she passes. She wipes her brow with her arm before taking out a few newspapers, knowing that it is going to be a hot day and glad that she only has to deliver in the wee hours of the morning, the time of the day that is pleasantly warm for the moment. She drops several newspapers at an apartment complex and was about to head home when she notices that a dog is coming out of the side door of the house next door.
‘That’s odd,’ she thought, ‘The Aspasras don’t own that dog.’
The dog runs off as she carefully walks up to the side door, noticing that the dog’s paw prints are red. She becomes concerned, for the wet prints look like blood.
“Hello,” the young girl calls as she slowly enters the house, “Mr. Aspasra? There was a dog in... here...”
The young girl suddenly screams.
* * * *
The sun’s peeking rays reflect upon the haze settling upon Jamerson City. Citizens leaving early for work and students heading to their designated bus stops can feel the thick humidity, a sign of the sudden heat wave that has been reported to last for the next several days. For those without air conditioners, the next several days will not be fun for them at all.
John stands hunch over the kitchen counter, pouring cereal into a bowl. The clinking sounds of the hard cereal bits hitting the ceramic bowl and each other rings loudly in his ears, eyes clouded with exhaustion. Last night had been so muggy that he tossed and turned in bed until he went to the hallway closet and dug out a box fan. He had also been forced to change into new night clothes, as the pair he went into bed in had been soaked with his sweat and stuck to his body uncomfortably. He really wishes that Jenne would buy an air conditioner for the apartment. The land lord won’t install central air for the building unless everyone gives 'her' extra for the rent, being a cheap ass that 'she' is. Fans don’t cut it with humidity like this, and everyone knows it.
The young man puts the cereal box away and opens the refrigerator for the milk. The cold air misting lightly out the door feels like a wonderful caress upon his heated skin, but he resists the urge to crawl into the refrigerator and stay in there until the heat wave is over. He has to go to school and he did not want to listen to his sister teasing him about being intolerable to heat. He grabs the milk carton and fills his bowl, reluctantly closing the refrigerator door after putting the milk carton back inside. He glances at the kitchen clock and quickly eats his cereal, placing his empty bowl and spoon into the sink. He will clean them later. Right now, he as to get a move on if he wants to get to school on time. He can’t wait for his sister any longer to beg her for a ride just to avoid the heat.
“Good morning,” Ellisaüch greets as John enters the office, having arrived early as she always does, “Be careful out there today. A few of the schools had to close today due to power outages thanks to the heat wave.”
“Is Jamerson High on the list?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“... Oh well. Hey, do you know where Jenne is? Is she still on the case from the other day?”
“She actually finished late last night, so she may still be sleeping in her room. I saw her car out in the usual spot on my way here.”
“Does she know about my friend coming over for dinner tonight?”
“I’ll remind her when she wakes up and has her usual five cups of coffee. I’m certain that she will be here before you guys arrive and will have dinner ready. Do you have anything in mind for dinner tonight?”
“Not really,” John answers as he opens the office door, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Jenne orders a pizza or Chinese. It’s too hot to cook indoors. I’ll see you later.”
“Have a good day,” Ellisaüch smiles brightly and the younger Cordovo closes the door after leaving. She begins typing a document while waiting for her employer to join her.
‘Jenne always did prefer to walk rather than to drive,’ the young secretary thought, ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t open the office today. It would not be the first time she ran off and accepted other cases on the fly. Hopefully some that will-‘
‘Wait,’ Ellisaüch stops typing suddenly, her eyes widening, ‘No... It couldn’t be... So why-‘
“Feeling amiss with y
our senses?”
Ellisaüch gasps as she turns to see Jenne leaning against the open office door, a squirming bag in one hand and her trench coat in the other.
“Whatever do you mean,” the young secretary asks innocently, starting to type again, “Anyway, John’s having a friend over tonight for dinner and he is expecting you to be-“
“Acting like you don’t know doesn’t suite you,” the private detective interrupts, tossing the bag at Ellisaüch. The young secretary catches the bag, looking inside to see a ball of black fur giving off fearful trills at her, one large dark green eye full of tears.
“Can you really blame me,” Ellisaüch sighs, the creature melding into her chest and vanishing, “You know why I did that.”
“I had a run-in with Lilia last night,” Jenne informs, closing the door and heading to her desk, “You were lucky that she didn’t sniff out your pet through the whole conversation we had, she being too busy giving me the third degree.”
“That bad?”
“Pastor Walter’s at it again. It was a high school student this time.”
“When will they ever learn? Anyway, my pet and I were very careful. We know that there are people out there that have... unhealthy curiosities.”
“If that is your word for dissecting your pet and having you tortured and burned at the stake as a witch while burning innocents in their bloodlust,” Jenne hangs up her trench coat and sits down, “People should’ve learned their lesson by now with the Salem Witch Trials in the sixteen hundreds. Alas, all one has to do these days is lie good enough and everyone wants to exterminate a whole species without getting all the facts.”
“Like the whole Jaws movie conspiracy that nearly sent sharks to extinction?”
“Yep, and I didn’t understand what was scary about it. I wasn’t scared at all.”
“Don’t forget about the ones dumb enough to think that they can control the power of the gods while you’re at it. Besides, what’s Lilia going to do if she had seen my lovely Judy. In this age of entertainment and medical science, people will think she’s crazy and send her to a shrink, if not the insane asylum.”
“Are we talking about the same Lilia here? The one I’m talking about is the one who’s friends with almost every priest and church fanatic in the city. The kind of people that don’t believe in the age of science as much as everyone else.”
“Are you trying to tell me something?”
“Yeah,” Jenne looks at her secretary seriously, “Do your own damn work next time. No one will think of anything supernatural if they see a human spying on another human.”
“Yeah,” Ellisaüch counters sarcastically, “They will think I’m a Peeping Tom, and I do not want to see Officer Abraham again while I’m being arrested. That guy holds a grudge like a hoarder collects garbage.”
“I don’t blame you. I had the unpleasantness of a hostile reunion with him a year in the making. He still blames me for his demotion after that issue with Captain Victor and his illegal ring.”
“Better to be demoted than fired,” Ellisaüch comments, “By the way, where did you go while you had my pet... detained?”
“A couple of the neighbors in neighborhoods next to Tsudale called their friends and asked me to solve a few mysteries for them,” Jenne answers as she pulls out a wad of bills from her pocket, “Made a few hundred dollars in total for solving them quickly.”
“Did you have them sign the contracts to make the jobs legal and legit in case they try to say we took their money without doing the job,” the young secretary asks as she catches the wad of money with one hand, “I don’t want the Feds after us for not sticking to the laws.”
“You really think I would forget about that? They’re in that folder on the corner of your desk along with the Utgama contract.”
Ellisaüch looks to the corner of her desk that Jenne points at to see a folder slightly thick with paper sitting there innocently. She groans and picks the folder up while placing the wad of cash down.
“I have one more client to call and then I have the rest of the day off,” the private detective continues with pride, leaning back with her legs crossed on her desk.
“That’s nice,” the blonde-haired secretary replies as she looks over the contracts before picking up the wad of cash and counting it, “So I guess we can close the office early today after you are done with the new client.”
“Seeing as I cleaned out a good portion of the In Box for now, yes. But, there’s still the filing that needs to be done, the money to be deposited, bills to be paid, and the phone calls that may be coming in today from potential clients. I leave all that to you.”
“You always do.”
* * * *
Jamerson Police Station Precient Number Four is located near the center of the city and the business district, an old building that has been renovated throughout the years to keep up to building code without altering the historical foundation. The basement consists of the filing room, the parking garage, and the prison cells for long-time prisoners. The first floor consists of booking, the interrogation rooms, and the holding cells for temporary prisoners. The second floor consists of offices, resting areas, and the radio station. With the exception of the Chief of Police, and the Assistant Chief, the officers have their desks out in the large main floor for better communication with one another.
“Hey Abraham,” a young officer calls, seeing said officer at his desk reading through a folder, “Heard you had a run-in with good-ol’ Jenne yesterday. How’s she doing these days?
“What do you think,” Officer Abraham states in frustration as he closes the folder, “She’s still playing detective and still hasn’t figure out that she is not cut out for it and should move on.”
“Heard she solved the Utgama case that Johnny closed out a few weeks ago,” an officer sitting nearby comments, “On top of that, I’ve been hearing from the citizens on my turf that there isn’t a case she can’t solve yet.”
“She’s doing much better out there than she did here. A real shame we can’t bring her back to work with us. She can help us out with the homicide case.”
“I wouldn’t even bother teaming up with her,” Officer Abraham comments with distaste, “Jenne has no loyalty to her partners and will sell them out to save herself in a heartbeat. She can’t be trusted.”
“Starting fights with Jenne Cordovo again?”
Walking up to Officer Abraham’s desk is a tall man in his mid-twenties with platinum blonde hair that sharply contrasts with his caramel-colored skin. Deep blue eyes surveys each of the officers before him with a wisdom that seems impossible for one of his age. He is one of the youngest officers to reach the detective rank in such a short amount of time after graduating from the police academy, and is respected by many of the younger officers.
“Detective Raiden Archoly,” the young police officer greets.
“An officer’s loyalty to the law and his superiors are far more important than the loyalty with his partners,” Detective Raiden informs, “especially when the partners in question are abusing their positions for their illegal activities.”
“Is there anything I can help you with Detective Archoly,” Officer Abraham asks politely, hoping that the subject will change quickly. He has heard it all before and he did not want to hear it again.
“The homicide per struck again,” Detective Raiden informs, handing Officer Abraham a folder, “The Aspasra Family in Gamefont.”
“Not another one,” a nearby officer comments as the brown-haired officer looks through the folder after putting the previous one away, “How many does this make?”
“Six,” an officer by a map of Jamerson City answers, placing a tack into the map, “Judging by the time table, our perp is getting cocky.”
“The first murder was the Chu Family five months ago,” Detective Raiden said as he looks at the map, “The second murder was the Villia family three weeks later. The third murder occurs a month later with the Keepan Family. The fourth murder
occurred last month with the Beautica Family...”
“With the Parlisan Family a week later and the Aspasra Family two days after that,” another officer adds, joining the detective at the map, “The timing doesn’t match. There’s a month separating the Villias and the Keepans. A serial killer would have a set time table with his victims.”
“I don’t even see a clue with the victims either,” Officer Abraham said, flipping through a page, “Other than being stabbed in their sleep in the middle of the night, the families have no connection to each other and they live in separate suburbs.”
“Job relations?”
“None. Two of them are managers to separate corporations, one is a mechanic, and the other three are working small jobs with one going to college.”
“Sociopath,” an officer guesses, “They follow a pattern that only make sense to them, the time table states that they need their fix for living on the edge, and the victims are at their most vulnerable.”
“Sociopaths are also addicted to torture and need to see the victim’s pain,” another police officer points out, “Killing the victims in their sleep doesn’t make sense.”
“That’s another thing that doesn’t make sense. None of the victims show any signs of a struggle. I find it hard to believe that anyone can remain asleep while being stabbed to death, or the person next to the stabbed victim being unaware of what’s happening.”
“Has the forensics lab found any signs of gas or drugs within any of the victims,” Detective Raiden asks.
“Nothing so far,” a police officer at her desk answers, “They even have checked the pets our team has found dead at the Chu Family and the Beautia Family’s households, but so far no match to common toxins or poisons available to the public.”
Hell's Detective: Murder Page 6