Hell's Detective: Murder

by N. J. Bamford

  “And if you sense anymore ‘danger’, you will call the police without hesitation. I will not have you leading anything harmful to our house. If you do, I will divorce you faster than you can say 911.”

  “... Yes dear,” the middle-aged man swallows hard and retreats to the safety of his study. His wife’s temper may be a blow to his male ego at times, but damnit, it was that very temper that drew him to her all those years ago, and still does today.

  He sits at his desk and goes through his paperwork. He knows that Samaria is correct, and he shouldn’t be taking a possible threat so lightly, especially with the Single Family Serial Killer at large. Then again, he has been dealing with the unknown for so long that his instincts can tell when anything is a threat and when something isn’t.

  “Mom yelled at you again?”

  Tom looks up to see his son by the door of his study, an all-knowing smirk upon his face.

  “Don’t get smug, son. When you get married one day, you’ll understand how scary a wife can be.”

  “Sure,” the young man replies before walking in and taking a seat before his father’s desk.

  “So what did you think of John and his family,” Tom asks, “Did you have that strange feeling again?”

  “Not with John this time,” Richard explains, “The moment I met with his sister and her secretary, I felt like I walked up to the gates of Hell.”

  “Explain.”

  “I can smell sulfur and feel intense heat from at least one of them. The secretary, Ellisaüch, gave me a look that tells me that she knows of my ability. I think she may be a demon.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. Demons like to fiddle with the law, enjoying the many ways they can twist it into something sick and revolting.”

  “Have you ever heard of a demon working for a private detective before?”

  “No, but it is possible. Demons have been known to hide in the least expected of places to hunt without being detected. They’re even known to attack themselves to humans that unknowingly help them.”

  “Do you think that John and his sister are in danger? If so, then I need to warn them-“

  “Not yet,” Tom interrupts, “Any tip off could put both of them in danger, and that’s only if they believe you. If the secretary is indeed a demon, she will eradicate anyone that knows the truth about her. The best thing that we can do right now is to keep observing until an opportunity comes for our next move.”

  “But-“

  “No buts, Richard. If John is like us, yet can’t detect demons, then he has yet to emerge and the demon is attracted to him. Until he does, he and his sister are vulnerable. Patience, my son. We will keep John and Ms. Cordovo safe. In the meantime, get some sleep. Tomorrow is a school day and you will not be getting out of it.”

  “... Fine,” the younger Patrick nearly growls in frustration, standing up and leaving the room.

  “He definitely takes after his mother,” the elder Patrick sighs.

  Chapter 5

  If there is a lord, there would be a village he or she owns. If there is a village, there would be a road leading to it. If there is a road leading to a village a lord owns, then any traveler worth his salt would know about it.

  However, a road not used in so long is usually forgotten to the point one needs to find it on a map after hearing about it, an expense most travelers could not afford. Then again, a road not known would many a times may not draw one on their maps. In which case, one would have to rely on luck for finding it.

  Many believe travelers to be full of riches from their travels to distant towns and lands, selling and buying goods in order to increase their wealth. This would be not true, for the selling and buying is to only further their travels and pay for their expenses. As one would say, it is not the destination that is in mind, but the journey in itself. And for most travelers, they do not wish for their journeys to end. Not until their legs ache and their bodies yearn for the place of their final rest.

  The robed figure reads the scroll once again, making certain that what it said is accurate. The name of the lord is well known throughout the land as an enemy to the church, one that has been excommunicated and cut off from the royal court. The lord is also a sort of a joke during tea time with the nobles and travelers alike, but very few even know what the lord looks like. There has been a rumor going around that the lord had died a long time ago with no heir to inherit his lands, which would explain why there has been no response to the king’s summons. As such, it is forbidden to enter the lord’s lands and speak to anyone associated with the lord.

  Only a fool would be foolish enough to disobey an order from the king. Then again, the robed figure is not loyal to the crown by any means.

  * * * *

  A postman parks his truck at the corner of Julia Avenue and Bronx Street. He fills his bag with the last bunch of letters he has to deliver before he heads back to the office to drop off his bundle of outgoing mail and take a break. If he can get off early, maybe he can take his wife and the kids out to dinner. It has been awhile since they had a family night together.

  He waits for a car to pass by before getting out of his truck. Slugging the strap of his heavy mailbag over his shoulder, he heads to the first house and opens the mailbox to drop off the mail.

  “Morning Ben,” a neighbor calls out as he leaves his house to get the newspaper on his walkway.

  “Morning,” Ben replies, handing the neighbor his mail, “How’s the family?”

  “Doing good. How’s yours?”

  “Couldn’t be any better,” Ben answers proudly as he walks up to the next house, “Charlie’s got high marks and Rich’s made line backer for his team.”

  “That’s awesome, Ben.”

  “What the,” Ben exclaims quietly as the door he was putting the mail into via mail slot pushes forward with a slight creak, “The door’s unlocked.”

  “Are you serious,” the neighbor walks up to the post man, “Teddy never leaves his doors unlocked. He’s too paranoid to do that!”

  “Shit. Do you think...?”

  “I’ll get my phone,” the neighbor said as he heads back to his house. Against his better judgment, Ben enters the house. Just as he is about to call out to Teddy and his family, his foot hits something and he looks down.

  * * * *

  “Son of a bitch,” a police officer curses quietly as he leaves the nursery.

  “Theodore and Lois Kamim,” another police officer states as he writes down on his notepad, “Both late twenties and work at Katz Animal Hospital. Multiple lacerations to the chests, arms, and legs. Estimated time of death: seven hours ago.”

  “Also add little Chelsey Kamim to that list,” the first officer states angrily, “Damnit! She was only two months old!”

  “Fuckin’ hell. Five months of investigations, going on six, and we got nothing. We’re supposed to be the best here!”

  “Not every criminal can make our job easy,” they police officers turn to see Raiden walking in, “The more skilled we become, the harder the criminals work to elude us. We have to wait for the perp to make a mistake for us to find his trail.”

  “Wait,” the first police officer exclaims angrily, “We’ve been ‘waiting’ for over five fucking months now and-“

  “Calm down Joey,” the second officer states, “I feel the same as you do, but getting all emotional like this in public and in a crime scene won’t bring them back or help us catch the perp.”

  “He’s right,” Raiden agrees, “Besides, we need to collect evidence and interrogate the witness. If the perp is within the area and sees us acting like this, then he has won. Abraham has already screwed up. We can’t fail everyone.”

  Joey opens his mouth to protest, but closes it when Raiden and the second police officer leave the room to follow them to where another police officer is talking to the postman and the neighbors.

  “I can’t believe this,” Ben exasperates in frustration and sadness, “Teddy and Lois have been living here for fou
r years! They didn’t hurt anybody! Why did this happen to them?!”

  “Do you know if the Kamims had any squabbles with anyone or had issues they may have spoken to you about,” Raiden asks.

  “No. I mean, there was the stress with the baby and their work schedules, but they had no problems with anyone. As far as I know, everybody loved them.”

  A few meters away, within the shadows of a nearby house, a pair of eyes watch the scene unfolds. A smile forms upon the face the eyes belong to before fading out of sight.

  * * * *

  Despite the number of families being murdered in such a short period of time, Jamerson High School refused to close until the murderer is arrested. The principle decrees that running and hiding from a threat is to allow fear to win over the populace, and the mayor has yet to declare a state of emergency to warrant a closing for an unknown period of time. Many parents feel that the decision was made solely because the school budget couldn’t afford to add school days to the calendar year. Many of the students are happy that they will not have to cancel any of the scheduled festivities, which would’ve meant loss of club funding for future activities and the loss of members.

  And the Extracurricular Fair, which is being held today, is one such activity that both raises club funds and members.

  “Here you go,” John smiles as he hands a packet to a group of girls, who giggle their thanks and walk away.

  “Come check out Myth Café,” Daisy yells happily, handing flyers to nearby students, “Our famous Devil’s Cake is the best! And try out our brand new lunch special menu, available from twelve-to- three P.M.!”

  Richard watches his friends hard at work from a distance, amused at Daisy’s enthusiasm. They both are really hard workers and enjoy their jobs very much. He has also begun to relax around them whenever they hang out, especially around John. His senses are quiet, telling him that there is no danger nearby, but he remains cautious. After all, danger can come at a second’s notice.

  The brown-haired young man turns and heads down the rows of booths within the gymnasium, not wanting to draw attention to himself for staring at his friends for too long and appearing like a stalker. He stays in the middle between the booths, avoiding the overly ecstatic students that have the tendency to grab and drag nearby students to their booths in hopes of signing them up to their clubs or activities. He did not want to be cornered into signing up for any clubs or activities he is not into, for he is certain that it will not end up good. He eventually finds himself in the back, realizing for the first time he has come to this school exactly how big the gymnasium is. It is as big as four basketball fields side-to-side. Just to add insult to his ignorance, he looks up to see four basketball hoops on each side.

  ‘I really need to pay attention to detail sometimes,’ he chides himself, looking back to see if he missed any booths he could be interested in while off in his little world. Seeing none, he continues on.

  Unlike the other rows, the back row has the least amount of activity in it. The students behind each of the booths are either talking to each other or filling out paperwork. None of them are even bothering to call students over to them. None of the booths he looks at appear to have any interest to him, but one booth appears to have the most activity out of all the booths in the Extracurricular Fair. It is the Jamerson High School Football Team, the students struggling to get to the booth to sign up. Many of the students are fawning over a tall young man that appears to have taken a hobby of lifting weights several times a week, if not a day. Richard could feel the arrogance oozing off of him from his distance, and he didn’t like it. It screams god-like complex and to give him everything he wants. Not the kind of person he can get along with. He turns his head away to stop looking at the scene and his eyes land on what he is finally looking for: Jamerson High Baseball Team.

  Unlike the other booths, the baseball team’s booth didn’t have any students near it at all, as if everyone’s trying to avoid it like the plague. In fact, the only students there within several feet are the two representatives behind the booth itself. The brown-haired young man finds it odd. Isn’t there any other baseball fans in the school? How can anyone ignore the all-American pastime? Shrugging inwardly and deciding to find out later, he walks up to the booth.

  “Hello,” one of the representatives, a young man with dark hair and a slight Latino accent greets, “How can I help you today? If you need the football team’s sign-up, it’s that way.”

  “Hi,” Richard greets pleasantly, “No, I’m not here to sign up for the football team. I would like to sign up for the baseball team.”

  “R-really? Usually, everyone wants to join the football team. J-just a minute, I’ll get the paperwork for you!”

  “You’re not trying to pull our leg here right,” the other representative, a young man with light brown hair done in a crew cut, asks suspiciously, “We get this all the time every year, and it’s not funny if you are.”

  “I ain’t pulling anything,” Richard replies, feeling a tad insulted, “I am a baseball player, and I love to play baseball.”

  “Sorry. People tend to make fun of us because of our streak lately. Anyway, do you have experience playing baseball?”

  “I’ve been playing since I was a kid. Used to play on my town’s team in pee wee baseball and played on my last school’s team for two years before coming here.

  “Not to get off-track, but the football team’s booth is pretty popular. I find it off to see you guys so dead. At my last school, it was pretty divided as to who plays which sport.”

  “Everyone likes to get close to Leonard Hammerstead, most popular guy in the school. Guy’s been a quarterback since his freshman year, plays for the soccer and basketball teams, and everyone considers him to be the school’s greatest athlete, yet he refuses to play baseball.”

  “That’s because it’s such a boring sport,” they turn to see the topic of their conversation behind them along with a few other students, “Throw the ball, hit the ball, run in a square, try to catch the ball. America’s worst sport ever, second to golf.”

  “Baseball is one of the best sports ever,” the first representative states angrily, “and made in America. What’s so great about running around with a ball while everyone tries to slam you into the ground? By the way, golf originated in Scotland, not America.”

  “What’s so great about a team that hasn’t won a championship in over five years History Nerd,” Leonard shoots back, making his fans laugh before he turns to Richard, “You don’t want anything to do with them, new kid. These losers won’t be around for much longer, especially since most of the members left are all seniors and what few aren’t won’t be enough for a team to be able to play legally. You’re better off signing up for the football team. Better hurry, for it’s filling up fast.”

  “No thanks,” Richard replies neutrally and he turns to the registration form handed to him, “My specialty is baseball, and I don’t get along with overly-egotistical jocks.”

  He ignores the chorus of disbelief and sounds of shock from Leonard’s fans as he fills out the registration form, practically feeling the rage flowing from the young football player. Probably hasn’t dealt with being denied what he wants in so long, if ever. He continues to ignore them as he hears Leonard lead he fellow students away, claiming that Richard is not worth his time, nor theirs.

  “I can’t believe you told him that,” the second young representative utters in disbelief, “I would watch my back, if I were you. Leonard is not the kind to be told no to without some kind of consequence.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Richard replies and hands the registration form back, “Do I meet the team after school... uh, sorry. I didn’t ask for your names yet.”

  “Valentino,” the first representative smiles brightly, “I’m the pitcher. Carson here is the center fielder.”

  “I’m Richard,” the brown-haired young man smiles as he shakes their hands, “Both a former batter and third base man.”

  “We us
ually meet up in the gym after school before practice,” Carson explains, “We will be starting our season in March, but our tryout period will begin in February. We have practice indoors using softball equipment and have meetings after school once a week until the season starts, to which we meet afterschool three times a week with our game scheduled every other Sunday. Our first meeting will be on Wednesday, in which we will be talking about the new uniforms for the year and welcoming new members. It will be in Room Four-O-Two.”

  “On the science floor?”

  “Yep. The rooms are much bigger and we will have access to the projector to watch movies.”

  “Can’t wait. See you on Wednesday.”

  “Welcome to the Jamerson High Bullhorn Baseball Team,” Carson replies and Richard walks away. The young man feels a sense of accomplishment fill his being. He has joined the baseball team, made two new friends, and didn’t sense any form of danger at all. Well, Leonard might prove to be a problem in the future, but he is certain that it’s nothing he couldn’t handle.

  “He’ll come to regret it,” he overhears the football player tell his fans as he heads for the door, their laughter echoing in the gymnasium. Hopefully, Leonard will forget that their conversation had ever happen and move on. It will save Richard from a future headache.

  * * * *

  One of the things Jenne hates to do as a private detective is the paperwork waiting for her after each case she solves. Records have to be made in case her clients need to bring their cases to trial, or refuse to pay their bills and she has to take them to court. She had only gone to court twice for clients that didn’t think she did a good enough job to warrant payment. Thanks to Ellisaüch and her lawyer friend, both issues were resolved quickly and they paid after vowing to never do business with her again. The private detective could care less, for her clientele is large and her reputation is far too good to be put down by a few bits of slander.