Hell's Detective: Murder

by N. J. Bamford

  The client today is the owner of Wound Thumb Home and Garden, a small store that’s been around for over a hundred years, right before the start of World War One. Like most stores, it’s family-owned, but with large home and garden companies moving in, no one knows how long it will stay in business. Jenne isn’t going to place any bets. As much as keeping things the same is good, change will happen eventually.

  “Welcome,” one of the clerks greet her as she enters the store, “How can I help you today?”

  “Hi. I’m here to see Sam Willamete. He called my office about a case.”

  “Oh, you must be Jenne Cordovo. Right this way. I’ll take you to his office.”

  “Thank you.”

  The clerk leads the private detective to the employees’ section upstairs and to a small office. Inside at a desk sits a tall man whose hair is striped in gray, a sign of age upon an otherwise young-looking person.

  “Mr. Willamete,” the clerk said as he knocks on the open door, “Ms. Cordovo is here to see you.”

  “Ah,” the man smiles brightly, “Thank you for coming so soon, Ms. Cordovo. You can head back now, Jerry.”

  “Yes sir,” Jerry replies and heads back to his post.

  “It seems you have a tight connection with your fellow employees,” Jenne comments.

  “I do. We’re big on being open to one another, like how family members are. However, as much as it pains me so, I feel this situation has left my trust in my employees shaken.”

  “You think that someone’s a thief.”

  “More or less, but do please let no one know about it.”

  “My lips are sealed. In the meantime, I have my company’s contract here for you to sign. I am also bound by law to inform all new clients that I am not a police officer, nor am I affiliated with any form of law enforcement. I cannot make arrests on your behalf or enforce the law upon others. My job is to collect information and give you the best conclusion I can come across. If I happen to catch the perp in action, I can subdue him or her, but I can only do so within their rights. I can also take pictures or video tape the perp in action and give the pictures or tapes to you. Whatever happens after the investigation is over with I am not responsible for. Please go over the contract and the payment plan, and sign at the bottom if you agree to the terms and conditions of my services. The fee for my services is also listed within. Once you signed, we can get started.”

  “Of course,” Sam takes the contract and reads it briefly before signing and making a copy before handing the original to Jenne, “I’ve discovered a problem with our stock of Top Man Fertilizing Soil a week ago and rechecked my records. You could imagine my shock to find out that the problem has been going on for almost five months now. A recount of our stock showed that we are missing several bags, at least two per each monthly shipment.”

  “And costing your company quite a bit of money I bet,” Jenne adds, “Where do you receive your shipments at?”

  “In the storage area of the back.”

  “Can you show me?”

  “Sure,” Sam leads the private detective downstairs to the back area of the store, “The trucks pull into the back and everything is counted off before we put them out front. Any extras we stack here by the ventilation shaft. Although sealed tight, these bags tend to smell not so pretty.”

  “Do you have any security cameras in the area aimed at the location where you keep the bags at?”

  “Right there,” he points to a security camera above that is pointing at them, “I’ve checked the video footage and I notice nothing. It also doesn’t help that the video isn’t so good at night when we are closed. Not enough emergency lights around to keep certain areas lit.”

  “I would like a copy of those recordings, if you don’t mind. Also, do any of your employees have keys to the store?”

  “Just myself and my son, the assistant manager. You don’t think... no. My son is a good boy. He would never steal from me or this company. Besides, what would he do with soil? We sell at less than what the other stores are selling at.”

  “That was never my thought. Just covering all bases. Since we’re on the topic, tell me about your son.”

  “Well... he’s a college student at University of Philadelphia, studying business to take over my store once I retire. He and his dorm friend are here on vacation right now, taking a break from their studies and to help me with the holiday rush.”

  “He sounds very dedicated to the family business. Has he and his friend been here long?”

  “Oh yes. They arrived just after the semester ended. From May to October, we’re pretty busy with those setting up gardens for the spring before the first snowfall of the year. November to December, we’re selling Christmas trees and homemade wreaths like hot cakes. Getting seasonal help is hard with all the megastores opening up around here, so I’m very happy for the extra support.”

  “Speaking of holidays, when will you be getting in those Christmas trees? I will be needing one soon.”

  “I’ll put our best one aside for you once they arrive after Thanksgiving. Now, about those missing bags...”

  “I will have to review the tapes first and do a bit of investigating here. Once I have found something, I will let you know.”

  * * * *

  Friday rolls around very quickly, the temperature falling to the point where everyone switches to warmer clothing and jackets. Leaves flutter in the wind and blanket the streets and grassy yards, a sure sign of winter fast approaching. Families begin decorating their houses for the holidays, a mix of Halloween and Christmas decorations giving the streets a unique look to any passerbys.

  John arrives home quickly and begins packing his overnight bag, a brand new sleeping bag next to it. He packs a few of his school books and notebooks along with a few sets of clothing and all of his toiletries, but stops when his hand reaches for a pair of glasses on his nightstand. He normally wears his contacts during the day, switching to his glasses at night in case he forgets to take his contacts out before falling asleep. It has happened before, and it made his eyes very irritating and painful to open and close when he woke up in the morning. Not even Daisy knows that he has vision problems, as he hates wearing glasses. They annoy him so much, not to mention how that they make his eyes look big. He had enough of kids making fun of him before the eye doctor allowed him to wear contacts. He didn’t need Richard doing the same.

  Deciding against taking his glasses and possibly waking up to irritating eyes again, the young man zips his overnight bag shut and pulls one of the straps over his shoulder, the sleeping bag and his pillow under his arm. He heads to the office area, where he sees Ellisaüch typing away at her computer.

  “Jenne’s still not home yet,” he asks, looking at his sister’s empty desk.

  “Not yet, but she did want me to tell you to be careful and to have fun. Do you have your cell phone?”

  “Yep,” he shows her his cell phone, “I also have my charger. Richard’s address and phone number are on the fridge.”

  “Good. Jenne will have both our heads if she has to search the entire city just to find you.”

  “I know, I know. I remember the last time she did when I got lost looking for the ice cream truck.”

  They suddenly hear a car horn from outside, and John looks out the window to see Tom’s car waiting for him.

  “That’s my ride,” John said as he heads for the door, “I’ll see you on Sunday.”

  “Bye,” Ellisaüch smiles and the young man leaves. She goes back to typing, but the phone starts ringing a minute later.

  “Jenne Cordovo Private Detective Agency. How may I help you?”

  “The time is neigh,” Jenne’s voice drifts into the phone, “Prey feeds on the prey. The hunt ends tonight, lest the trail ends cold.”

  “And the wolf is left hungry,” Ellisaüch smiles darkly, her computer shutting down on its own, “Let’s not keep him waiting.”

  She hangs up the phone and stands, the lights turning off on thei
r own one-by-one as she chuckles darkly. Once the lights are all out and the sunlight filters the room, she is gone.

  * * * *

  Jenne flips her cell phone shut, a sinister smile upon her face. Her meeting with Sam a few days ago and a quick trip to the library has brought her the scent she has been looking for. It has been awhile since she had hunted last, and she is looking forward to it.

  “You look to be in a good mood.”

  The private detective turns her head to see Lilia walking up to her, a stern look on her face. On any other day, the social worker’s mere presence would’ve irritated her. Not today though, as her mind is set in a happy mood. And she knows that Lilia will never interfere in her hunts. If anything, she encourages Jenne to have them.

  “And I suppose that you would be happy that I am doing right if something wasn’t bothering you,” Jenne replies cockily.

  “So this six-month tragedy will end tonight?”

  “As I had told Raiden, no one in their right mind messes with what is mine. Tonight’s fiasco will reaffirm that statement.”

  “And you know where he will strike next? If you are wrong, you won’t get another chance before the FBI appears and scares the killer off to another city.”

  “I wouldn’t be as good of a detective as my reputation states if I didn’t. Now, I have one more stop to make before the real fun begins.”

  “I’ll be watching you.”

  “You always do. Then again, I have Ellisaüch for that.”

  “I don’t trust her.”

  “You never did, not at all.”

  * * * *

  “Are you sure you don’t want my foam mattress to sleep on,” Richard asks as John sets up his sleeping bag on the floor.

  “Nah,” John replies with a smile, “I actually like my beds hard. Jenne likes to say I would be happy if my bed was a rock since we went camping when I was a kid, and I was the only one that got a good night's sleep."

  “Where did you go camping?”

  “Jamerson Park. There’s a section that opens up every year for campers, but that got closed off when the wildlife agency found bobcats residing in the area.”

  “Bobcats?”

  “Yeah. They were found with cubs, so they believe that they’re breeding there and the agency made the area into a protected wildlife reserve.”

  “Bet there were a lot of angry kids when the decision was made about that.”

  “They were angrier when they were told they couldn’t see the cubs.”

  “Heh. I’m going to get some snacks. Do you want anything to drink?”

  “Soda would be nice. Any would do.”

  “Be right back.”

  Richard opens his bedroom door and heads for the kitchen. So far, that feeling he had before upon their first meeting hasn’t returned, and John hasn’t shown any signs of being anything other than a normal human being. It is frustrating that he hasn’t found the answers yet after searching for almost a month. The only plus side so far is his friendship with John. The raven-haired young man is opening up more to him and is speaking more of manly topics than girly topics like he did in the beginning. He figured that years of having only a girl as John’s only friend and living with his sister has made it difficult for him to be just a guy among guys and talk about guy things. Girls... from his experience... like to talk about clothes, their weight, or some latest romance story (movie or book) that didn’t make any sense to him. The girls that like to talk about sports... forget. It makes him wonder who is the worst as a sports’ fan: male or female.

  “Richard,” he looks up at his mother, who is busy cooking at the stove, “Has John settled in yet?”

  “He has. Just coming in for some snacks.”

  “Okay,” Samaria smiles, “but don’t eat too much. Donner will be ready in an hour.”

  “Yes, Mom. Thank you.”

  “Do you boys need any extra blankets or pillows,” Tom asks, “We have that foam mattress in the closet for John to use.”

  “No, thank you. John said he likes his bed hard.”

  “Just like your father,” Samaria comments playfully.

  “Hey!”

  The small family shares a laugh before Richard leaves with a small tray of snacks. Speaking to his parents has eased the tension he has been feeling earlier. Perhaps this sleepover will be okay and he is over thinking things.

  He walks into his bedroom to find his friend sitting on his sleeping bag and working on some homework. History homework.

  “Are you serious,” Richard asks incredulously.

  “What,” John looks up from his homework, “I wanna get it done and over with. This way, I don’t have to worry about it come Sunday.”

  “Anybody ever tell you that you’re such a nerd?”

  “My sister? All the time. Daisy? She doesn’t care. You? Just now.”

  “What about being a smart ass?”

  “That too.”

  * * * *

  Gray clouds darken as the sun above sets for the day, the lights of the city turning them to violet. It will not rain until the early hours of the morning, yet many people carry their umbrellas just in case. One such individual didn’t carry one, passing through the crowds of people as if they aren’t a hindrance to his path. The person is lost in through, memories of a time long ago playing in her mind and dulling out reality all around her.

  Lord Babil stands in his throne room, corpses surrounding his feet. Blood soaks the carpet and spreads to the hallways. The corpses are a mix of soldiers, servants, and villagers alike. None were spared from the lord’s need to kill, their faces all having the same look of fear and disbelief frozen upon them. How could their lord betray them so? They had trusted him and had given him years of loyalty and service. Is this their reward? To have their lives taken away so horrifically? And for what? For what?!

  Lord Babil stares at all of his victims, admiring his handiwork with glee. The blood, the screams, the feel of steel sliding through soft flesh and breaking bone. This is his power, his right given to him by God. These fools should be honored that they died by his hand and not at the hand of some lesser creature.

  He throws his head back and laughs, any form of sanity within it vacant. The very thought of some low-class mongrel having the honor of killing any of his subjects is ludicrous. They are all his to kill, his to dismember, his to enjoy. Of course, now he has to find more subjects to feed his appetite for murder. If he recounted correctly, all of his subjects are now dead. And thanks to King Richard, no one has come to visit his lands, nor would they even try. Perhaps the knowledge of his lands has vanished from people’s minds by now, making travelers ignorant of where his lands are. He will have to go and change that, invite them for a rest. Their final rest.

  A sudden noise brings Lord Babil’s good mood to a sudden halt. What in the hell? Did he miss one servant? Most likely one of the farm animals had gotten into the castle. It won’t be as satisfying as killing a servant, but he did need meat for his supper...

  “Quite a display of power you got there,” he turns to see a person walking into the throne room, a torn and dirtied robe hiding his identity, “You managed to kill every last one of your citizens. You even killed that messenger that tried to escape and get help for his family. A family now long dead.”

  “And you are to judge me so,” Lord Babil demands lightly. He did not recognize the voice, and the only way to know that there had been a messenger from his lands is...

  “People call this the forbidden lands. The lord that once owned these lands betrayed the king and was excommunicated by the church. All that live on these lands are forsaken and if any try to make contact with them or their lord would share the same fate.

  “Now I can see why. You’re driven mad.”

  “Mad,” Lord Babil laughs, “Mad? Is that what King Richard thinks of me? Hah, hah. That old fool thinks by starting a supposed ‘holy crusade’ with Jerusalem, it will save his soul from his family’s curse. He has yet to realize that no
matter how loved you are by the people, there is always someone out there that will seek to steal your power. He doesn’t understand that those with titles must put the fear of God into our lesser. It is our divine right, after all.”

  “Oh? You possess the right to commit the sin of murder, annulling you of the sixth commandment?”

  “Indeed. It is a delicious right, the feel of having the power to take away a life is exhilarating to me. My subjects should be grateful that someone of my post had decided to end their lives instead of a low-life ingrate. Their deaths were beautiful and clean.”

  “I think they would prefer to be alive rather than dead,” the robed figure pointed out.

  “A mongrel like you should know that a subject has no choice if his lord desired his death. Killing is a pleasure to me, and one I immense myself greatly into it. Who are you to deny my right and my pleasure?”

  “A simple traveler, nothing more. Yet, I do know that your pleasure will promise you a nice seat in the lowest reaches of Hell upon your death.”

  “You speak as if you are a messenger of God,” Lord Babil grabs his axe, “A dangerous sin, which warrants a death sentence. Allow me-“

  He turns and raises his axe to kill the robed figure, but he is gone. Confused, he looks around for his prey.

  “You’re a bit too slow to be my equal in battle.”

  Lord Babil turns around quickly to find the robed figure behind him, the robes fluttering around him and a large scythe in hand. Before he can do anything, the upper part of the axe falls to the floor with a clatter that sounds loud in the throne room. A second later, the lord falls to the floor as well.