by Jack Wallen
“Let me give his cell phone a try.” She dialed another number and waited out the rings. “Nothing.” Mrs. Caprini sank into a chair. “What is happening?” She looked up at me with eyes that were welling with tragedy. My heart was about to break, but I knew I had to hold myself together. Letting this woman see my emotions would only push her over the edge, and I needed everyone to be as strong as they could be.
“He would answer the phone if he saw that it was me.” Her worry was infectious. A fear came over me, and I made a snap decision to head back to the school to make sure that Mary Capri was okay.
“Let’s give him a visit, Mrs. Caprini.” I headed out the door to the car. I didn’t even wait for confirmation that the two were following me.
FORTY-ONE
The work was not going well. Lakmé wasn’t sure if it was because of the location, the lack of finishing touches he knew he was missing (makeup, wig, and gown), or the bad luck that seemed to have been following him throughout the day. Something, however, was causing his hands to not work well, his brain to misfire, and the patient’s flesh to not cooperate.
It started with the chest area. As he made his incisions, the flesh seemed thinner than usual, causing him to slip and slice away chunks. Blood and meat were dropping all around Mary Capri.
His hands were shaking, and he was sweating profusely. “This is taking too long,” he whispered. Lakmé stopped, mopped his brow with a cloth, and realized that he had not pushed play on the CD player. He was working in silence, which would certainly cause him to fumble and fuddle his way through the operation.
“Damn!” he said, as he reached to push play. The volume must have been bumped in the car because the Flower Duet came screeching out of the speakers as if played at a Biohazard concert.
Lakmé slipped as he was scrambling to turn down the volume and speared his left forearm with his scalpel. He screamed out in agony and frustration.
“Goddamn it!” His breath was becoming ragged. He hadn’t managed to reach the volume control and was still hearing Charlotte Church scream in his ear.
Sous le dôme épais où le blanc jasmin
A la rose s’assemble
Sur la rive en fleurs riant au matin
Viens, descendons ensemble
Where the words had previously brought tears of joy to his eyes, they were now bringing tears of pain and anger. Lakmé smashed his fist down on the player, crumbling it into a dozen pieces.
Lakmé was covered in sweat. He was beginning to fear that the procedure had been spoiled, and nothing could salvage it. He began to upend the entire office.
When he finally stopped, his body was shaking. Lakmé had lost control of himself and wound up with a bloody mess at his feet. He kicked the body of Mary Capri. He kicked the body again, this time hard enough to feel a crunch.
“You son of a bitch. You ruined my work today!” Lakmé kicked the face. He kicked the stomach. He kicked the groin and the neck. The body was breaking beneath him, the bones shattering. Blood was starting to fly from the head as he caved in the face with his shoe.
Lakmé knelt down near the body’s knees and placed a hand on the man’s groin. With the man’s genitals in his hand, he squeezed with all the strength he could muster. “You could have been rid of this! Your dreams could have folded inside out on you.”
Blood was running down his forearm. The testicles were now beyond recognition. And then, as quickly as the rage had come, it left him. Like the calm before another, more violent, storm, the man was perfectly at ease. Lakmé stood up, opened the door, and walked out of the office.
Lakmé calmly walked out of the building. Blood was dripping from his hands. He barely noticed the students and staff staring at him as if he were the walking dead. As the building door closed behind him, a scream pierced the air. Someone must have discovered his mess. Lakmé cringed and picked up his pace. Lakmé was ashamed of himself and furious at Mary Capri. He would have to find a way to finish what he had started with that man. He couldn’t let his work go unfinished. His soul would never rest peacefully.
He got in his car and screamed out of the parking lot. He was driving erratically and had no idea where he was going. His car smashed into parked cars to his right and then veered to the left, only to do the same on the other side of the road.
Lakmé was transfixed with defeat. He had let frustration get the better of him until it ruined his latest patient. He knew deep down that Mary Capri was ruined, and that he would have to move on to the next patient. He never thought he would feel such loss. Even compared to the loss of his mother, the pain was substantial.
He suddenly realized that he was driving slowly around the scenic loop of Cherokee Park. He had no idea what had brought him there, but he was glad. He pulled into a parking lot next to a children’s playground and shut off the car.
A mother and son were happily enjoying a peaceful ride on a swing set. The mother was pushing the boy, and the boy was laughing and yelling for her to push higher. As she pushed, the boy’s laughter grew until it sounded more like a song of pure delight. The mother joined in the laughter and started singing a touching little song.
Little Stephen swings his swing higher, higher.
Little Stephen swings his swing higher than any other.
The young child started singing along with the mother.
Lakmé was watching every movement, listening to every word and sound. At the end of the song, the mother ran quickly to the front of the swing, and the little boy jumped into his mother’s arms, and she hugged him tightly.
He sat watching and crying until the mother and son were out of sight. Then he cried even harder. Lakmé cried for all the lost time he should have had with his own mother, cried for the suffering they had both endured. He cried for anyone who had not experienced the gentle love of a woman or a mother.
When his sobs subsided, his head was throbbing with the beat of his heart.
Lakmé’s mind began to spin. He was getting dizzy. He had no idea why, and it was scaring him. All he knew was that he had to do something about whatever had taken hold.
He jumped out of his car and ran into the woods behind the playground. Maybe he could find some safety in the trees. Maybe there would be a cave or a hollow tree where he could stash himself until these sickening feelings went away. Maybe he could disappear completely and not have to worry about the haunting that filled his head.
FORTY-TWO
We pulled into the parking lot of the school and saw a crowd of people standing outside. Some were crying, some were holding each other, some were on cell phones, and some were just standing and staring. My heart sank into my stomach. Lakmé had been here. I could feel it.
I got out of my car and rushed into the building. I could hear crying and moaning from down the hall and to the left. I turned the corner to see students and a campus police officer standing in front of a door. The campus officer recognized me instantly.
“You couldn’t have come at a better time.” The officer put away his radio.
“Looks like I couldn’t have come at a worse time, is more like it. What happened?” The officer gestured into the office. I looked at the nameplate on the door and knew right away that I was too late. God, I was tired, tired of seeing the blood and the mutilations. This was Louisville, Kentucky, not Los Angeles or Detroit. We were supposed to live in a safe community where children could play on the sidewalks and women could walk alone.
The office looked like it had been dismantled by a train just passing through. The desk had been turned upside down, the bookshelves had been upended, and paper was scattered everywhere.
In the debris, the body wasn’t readily visible. After quickly scanning through the books, papers, and splintered wood, I finally saw a bloodied hand poking through the mess. I started peeling off the layers until I saw the most horrific sight I’d ever seen in my life.
The face had been caved in, the torso looked like something from a Clive Barker movie. The genitals were pulp.<
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My eyes were locked on the body when I was interrupted by Skip’s voice. “EMTs are on their way,” he said gently.
“Won’t do any good. He’s well beyond being alive.” I stood aside so Skip could see the damage. He sucked in a quick breath.
“I think Lakmé was interrupted by something. He couldn’t finish, and it infuriated him. But what would have caused him to stop?” I was speaking more to myself than to anyone else.
I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the carnage.
“Let the medics take care of this.” Skip’s voice was full of compassion.
“I can’t. It’s my case. Another man is dead, and I’m no closer now than I was before. I have to find him. I have to—” And just as Skip was trying to lift me from the floor, I noticed a black doctor’s bag in the corner. My heart stopped, and my lungs filled with cold, dry air. I pulled out a pair of exam gloves and carefully lifted the bag.
I had just found the Holy Grail. Holding it up in silence, I could do nothing but stare.
“This is it. It’s his bag.” I gently laid the bag on the floor and opened the top. Inside was a horrific collection of broken and abused surgical tools, miscellaneous knives, tape, a bra, and a bottle of liquid, which I pulled out to examine closely.
“Xylazine,” I read from the bottle. I couldn’t believe my luck. The bottle even had the standard label attached which included an address. “Looks like he’s getting his tranquilizer from the Prospect Animal Rescue Center.” I stared at the bottle for a moment. “This is it, Skip, Lakmé’s tranquilizer.” My eyes were transfixed on the label, hoping the killer’s name and address would sneak out from between the letters on the label.
Skip was tugging at me, pulling my attention away from the remnants the killer had left behind. We had to get out of the way so the medics could get to the body. I closed the bag and left the office as the EMTs arrived. I motioned them in and saw Mrs. Caprini standing outside in shock. The dear woman had been totally forgotten. I ran to her, and she fell into my arms. My arms held her tightly, hoping to stem the tide of the torment flooding her mind. The woman had no business being alone, but I had to leave. It seemed so cold to leave her, but I really couldn’t spend the day comforting her.
Fortunately, just as I was pulling away from Mrs. Caprini to tell her I had to leave, a sweet woman with tears generously flowing down her cheeks came over and pulled her away from me. They obviously knew each other. The two women cried on one another’s shoulders.
I turned to Skip. “We have to send someone here to get statements. I think our time should be spent chasing down his vet supplier.”
Skip agreed, and as we walked out of the building, he opened his cell and buzzed Craig Wayne to have him send a team to question any possible witnesses and to print and document the site. Craig actually decided to take the job himself. What a saint he was becoming. My mind wrapped around him for a moment, and I liked the way it felt.
We jumped in my car and headed to the affluent suburb of Prospect.
FORTY-THREE
The woods were damp but not yet dark. Lakmé ran until his lungs could no longer hold enough air, and his heart couldn’t pump fast enough to keep up. When Lakmé finally stopped, he found himself in a circular clearing where a large tree had fallen and split the clearing in half.
He was not alone.
On the tree were two lovers enjoying each other’s bodies. The two teenaged lovers were completely unaware that they now had an audience. Lakmé held his breath as he watched. They were kissing passionately. The boy’s hands were groping to release his own pants from around his waist. The girl reached down to help him.
Lakmé stood still and silent among the trees. His heart was pounding; he wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted to see it, and yet he couldn’t pull his eyes away. Something about the scene had him transfixed.
Between the two, they finally managed to get the boy’s pants down to his ankles. His underwear followed, leaving only his moderately-sized penis exposed. The young woman took the growing flesh in her hand and began to massage it to life.
When the penis had nearly doubled in size, the girl took it into her mouth. Gently at first, she ran her tongue along the side and then put the head in her mouth. The boy’s head fell back in obvious delight. The girl started taking in more and more of the shaft with each pass, and the boy began waving his head back and forth.
And then, the boy started laughing as he grabbed her head and forced her face down on him hard. Choking sounds were coming from the girl’s throat as she struggled to break free. He continued to force her down, and the girl’s throat must have opened because the boy’s erection slid all the way down into the girl’s esophagus. She was choking. He was holding her tightly, his strength too much for her. She thrashed around, and the boy’s laughter grew louder.
The boy continued pressing down on the girl’s head. Her thrashing was growing weak and sporadic. Her hand reached up to his chest, but then it slid down limp at her side. The boy’s body spasmed when he came. As she was dying, he was pumping life into her mouth.
Lakmé looked on, his head filled with a loud buzzing sound, like a chainsaw amplified by God’s own PA system. The sound threatened to turn him inside out until he collapsed on the ground. His eyes rolled up into his head and into the past.
“Come on, ya little shit. Kiss it!” His father had dropped his pants to his knees and pulled his young son’s head to his lap. The smell was rancid, a combination of sweat and shit that made the boy want to vomit. But no matter how horrible the smell or the feeling, he couldn’t pull away. His father was far too powerful and fully intent on getting his way.
“That’s daddy’s little girl. That’s what you are, right? Daddy’s little girl.” His father leaned back in his chair as he forced the boy’s face down on his penis.
The boy was being dissected by hate. Every ounce of innocence was being speared through the heart.
His breath was disappearing fast. He was about to pass out, but his father wouldn’t relent. Powerful hands were holding his head down. Finally, his father pushed him off and walked away, laughing as the boy gasped for air.
When Lakmé came to, the chainsaw in his head had run out of gas, and he found himself lying face down in the leaves and dirt. He pulled himself up and looked over at the fallen tree where the boy had forced himself upon the girl. He had hoped to see the two of them locked in a loving embrace. He had hoped that what he had seen before the memories ripped him from the present was a lie, and the boy and girl had only been acting out some new ritual of young lovers.
But the girl was lying as Lakmé was, face down. She was perfectly still. He waited, hoping to see her spasm to life. Lakmé stood up and crossed over to the girl. He knelt down beside her.
For a moment, he felt sorry for the young teenager. She had probably experienced oral sex for the first time in her life, only to have it kill her. He knelt down, rolled her over, and stroked her hair. She was pretty, even with the blue pallor of suffocation hanging on her face.
Before Lakmé could meditate too deeply on the darker implications of oral asphyxiation, the girl began to spasm and cough. The young boy’s semen ran down her chin as she gasped for air.
Sitting her up, he prodded her coughing with firm pats on the back. She was alive. She looked up at him and gave a pitiful smile. Unsure what to do, he smiled back and lifted her to her feet.
Without a word spoken between them, Lakmé picked her up and carried her out of the woods. Although it took him a while to figure out which way to go, he eventually arrived back at his car.
“Do you have a place to go?” Lakmé spoke softly as he brushed the dirt and debris from her shoulders.
“No. I ran away from home. That jerk picked me up and promised me a place to stay if I’d just do some things for him.” Another jolt of coughing went through her body. “Why do boys have to be such assholes?” Her eyes were closed, and she was holding onto her throat. Her
voice was raspy.
“Don’t talk; you’ll hurt your throat.” He smiled at her. “You can stay with me, if you like.”
Her eyes grew big with fear.
“No tricks. You don’t owe me anything. I just want you to be safe.” Lakmé was feeling pity for her. She had the courage to run away, where he never did. She had nearly died from what his own father had forced upon him countless times, which brought about a strange bond with her. He wanted her to know that she was safe from harm.
“You can have something to eat, a shower, and a place to sleep. If you want to leave in the morning, the door is yours.” Lakmé opened the car door and motioned an invitation. “Besides, I could use some company.” He smiled an innocent smile.
“What the hell. It couldn’t hurt, and I could use a warm place to sleep.” She hopped into his old Toyota, and he drove out of the park.
He had no idea something so simple as this young woman accepting his innocent offer could touch him so deeply.
FORTY-FOUR
When we arrived at the animal hospital, one of the workers was just turning the Open sign to Closed. I jumped out of the car and knocked on the front door window. When the girl looked out, I badged her, and she unlocked the door.
“I’m Officer Jamie Davenport, and this is Detective Abrahm. I need to see one of your doctors. It’s very important.”
The perky, sorority-type girl got a good look at Skip and smiled. Her red ponytail swished in the air as she walked away. Shameless flirting. She forgot that being of the same sex, I could see right through her coy charade. Little did she know, Skip would rather have her brother.
A man who looked to be in charge stepped out of a back room and greeted us. “I’m Doctor Goldstein. Is there something I can do for you?”
“I hope so.” I pulled out the vial that I had bagged. “Do you recognize this?”