An overjoyed Zalewski then shouted as he pointed one last time at the non-visible Voodoo Doctor “YEAH! THAT’S WHAT YOU GET! YOU’RE A TOTAL DOUCHEBAG VOODOO! A COMPLETE SMUCK!” A now satisfied Zalewski then turned around and tapped the preoccupied Merlyo on the shoulder as the lonesome detective was still desperately looking for another brief glimpse of his elusive love. Merlyo turned around and see Zalewski pull out a novelty toy Flash Gordon Ray Pistol from his pocket, a pistol that he had quickly acquired whilst on the initial chaotic pursuit through the Voodoo Doctor’s smoking boxcar office. The colourful pistol had instantly caught the chasing detective’s eye within the smoke filled boxcar as it lay under the Voodoo Doctor’s throne because Zalewski was a recent convert fan of the Flash Gordon televised serials space adventures.
These fantastically elaborate twenty minute serials told the story of the heroic human whom defended Earth by battling the dark forces of the evil alien emperor “Ming the Merciless” on the distant planet of Mongo. Zalewski had recently been watching the reruns of the episodes and adored the golden haired actor and former Olympian whom played the heroic swashbuckling Flash Gordon role, Larry “Buster” Crabbe. He secretly wished to be just as heroic as this space faring hero and had a crush on the actress whom played his love interest in the serials, the beautiful and curly golden haired Jean Rodgers. The elated Zalewski then spoke with a shaky voice, still recovering from all the frantic excitement that had just occurred “Check it out, the Voodoo Doctor’s ‘Amazing Death Ray’! Awesome huh? A Flash Gordon Ray Pistol! I’m keeping this! Haha!” He then pulled the trigger to which a bright yellow flag instantly shot out of the pistols barrel with the words “ZAP! Great Lakes Expo - 1936” written on it.
An angry Merlyo looked in disgust at the colourful cheap novelty toy gun with the brightly coloured flag fluttering in the gentle breeze of the moister laden and sunlit air. Just when he was about to voice his sour opinion on Zalewski’s latest find, which made him feel even more like a fool, the Voodoo Doctor’s manure train made one last final honk noise before it disappeared forever. Leaving the infuriated detectives numerous curse words of annoyance to be masked by his the train’s convenient horn.
Both the undercover detectives sat uncomfortably by an old wooden table in a dimly lit and seedy bar called The Kingsbury Conundrum which was filled with all manner of dubious looking characters and a vast array of unwelcoming eyes. The undercover Merlyo and Zalewski were both being covertly observed by all the regular clientele of this ill-fated establishment that had long since seen better days. The old wallpaper had long ago started to peel and exposed the vulnerable red brick underneath whilst the entire establishment rank of urine from the open toilet which had not been cleaned in a significantly long time.
This backwater establishment was a notorious thoroughfare for the grimmest and most debouched of personality types that Kingsbury Run had to offer and both detectives thought that this was the filthiest backwater dive they had ever had the misfortune of visiting whilst undercover within the infamous Roaring Third area. The bar itself was located between a narrow gap in-between a pair of seedy brothels which catered to all manner of sordid desires and was hidden deep within the maze like labyrinth of shanty homes which sprawled across the bitterly harsh landscape. The many shadowy patrons where barely visible in the dim light as they all continually went to the bar in order to acquire a refill of their favourite poison and would often glare at the undercover detectives, not knowing whom their faces where and pondering upon their motives within their private establishment.
The dim table lights where practically useless because the only lights of significant illumination was that of the bar area and the establishments rather ill-fitting flickering name above it which beamed down on all the shadowy patrons with an unbridled arrogance. Both detectives hated the seedy bars name due to its obviously metaphorical insinuations upon the gruesome case that they were currently working on and after briefly pondering the names ominous overtones they both then irritatingly scratched there ill-fitting hobo clothes which caused them major discomfort. The ever watchful unseen eyes kept a close view on all of their subtle movements because this bar was the focus of major illegal dealings with Polizzi’s Cleveland Syndicate and so both already knew that they were being observed.
Merlyo then attempted to straighten his awkwardly fit, dirty transient disguise as did the accompanying Zalewski whilst he frustratingly pulled up his ill-fitting trousers in order so that he could get a better view of his terribly dishevelled looking shoes. These particular shoes were hurting his soft feet as they were unaccustomed to any other shoes that where not of the expensively superior spectator variety. Merlyo then quietly spoke whilst clutching his drink as they both kept an ever watchful eye on the smartly dressed and scar faced middle aged Italian looking man whom was standing by the bar “You know who Ness got to investigate the New Castle boxcar mutilations on there off time?”
A preoccupied Zalewski then whispered his reply after taking another satisfying sip of his glass of cheap ale “No! Who?” A smirking Merlyo then leaned in and cautiously replied whilst being careful not to speak to loudly in such a hornets nest of criminality “The three stooges, Shibley, Wachsman and Weitzel, I mean come on man! There pretty incompetent aren’t they? Did you hear how they bungled that Jewish and Irish mafia case? Wow! Hehe! On the plus side however I did hear that Gerber finally found some trace evidence of a sedative in the female Cuyahoga River homicide victims system, unlike our two unfortunate frozen ‘canned’ friends from the swimming pool dump site. Surprizing don’t you think? Maybe the killer’s slipping up?” Zalewski cautiously replied whilst still keeping an ever watchful eye on the smartly dressed Italian man by the bar “Yeah! Perhaps? Or perhaps it’s just more mind games you know? I’ve learnt not to get my hopes up in this case. So er? Did they find the New Castle victims heads?”
Merlyo quietly replied whilst keeping a close eye on anyone whom looked to be listening in to their private conversation “Yes! But that doesn’t mean anything!” Zalewski then replied in agreement whilst nodding “I hear you man, I hear you! They won’t get identified either because our guys real clever. I mean the last victim that was ‘identified’ was Rose Wallace and we can’t even be sure about her identification so then that takes our confirmed identifications all the way back to Flo! Can you believe that? So what’s that now? Lucky thirteen? Fourteen? I’m losing count! I even heard that in the swamps near New Castle they discovered a few more bodies on top of the ones the three stooges are investigating! The New Castle News are already naming there killer, get this ‘The Murder Swamp Killer!’ Can you believe it?”
Merlyo rolled his eyes in disgust at this latest of unique names that the creative newspaper reporters had devised for their killer to lure in new readers and create new potential profitable marketing opportunities. He then took another satisfying drink of his cheap ale and cautiously replied “Well! If they are all connected to our guy, and by some miracle he’s on a constant killing spree, how many names has he got now? The Mad Butcher, The Torso Murderer, The Torso Slayer, The Phantom of Kingsbury Run and now ‘The Murder Swamp Killer’ Shit! Hehe!” Both undercover detectives then leaned back in there separate squeaky wooden chairs within the shadowy establishment as they continued to watch their quarry standing by the well-lit bar before Zalewski smiled, leaned back in towards his partner and whispered to him “You’re not jealous aren’t you?”
A confused looking Merlyo looked into his almost empty glass of ale before responding to his unusual question “Of what?” A still smiling Zalewski then replied “Of the three stooges finding those heads of those New Castle victims, it’ll make identification a hell of a lot easier!” Merlyo then sarcastically smiled back at his partner and replied “Me jealous, No! Besides they won’t be identified because our killer selects people whom won’t be missed. Wow! Will this nightmare ever end?” A contemplative Zalewski stopped smiling, leaned back in his squeaky chair and despondently s
hrugging his shoulders in uncertainty as he quickly finished off his last drop of ale before asking his shabby looking hobo partner another question “I heard Ness was furious at you the other day for parading yourself down Kingsbury Run in nothing but your long johns as ‘bait’ for the Mad Butcher, Hehe! I wish I could have seen his face! Talking of long johns, are you getting sleep nowadays?”
A preoccupied Merlyo then quickly replied whilst he quietly pulled out his notepad and methodically began to write down names of the clients within the shadowy bar that he recognised from a nearby seedy homosexual bar “That long johns ‘bait’ situation was a… was a ‘mistake’ and as far as my sleep is concerned, I get Catnaps!” Zalewski noticed this odd list taking and became irritated because it was drawing unwanted attention towards themselves and spoke whilst keeping his voice low “That’s not that ‘homosexual list’ of your again is it?” Merlyo looked at him and nodded his head up and down in agreement before Zalewski then spoke again, adamant that people where observing his writings from the unseen shadows “Do you really care about whose homosexual and who’s not?”
The preoccupied Merlyo then proceeded to shake his head in a horizontal fashion before he replied “Nope! But Ness wants me to list homosexual within this area as ‘potentials’ due to the Torso Clinic profile and that whole ‘male castration’ aspect of the crime which he sees as a warning sign. The castration may be yet another ruse from our unknown killer to throw us of his scent but you never know right? Better be safe than sorry! Anyway! Might I remind you that it’s illegal to be homosexual in the state of Ohio!” Zalewski then rolled his eyes in disapproval before he changed the topic and shoved a newspaper page to his preoccupied partners face just as he finished adding another known name to his ever expanding list “You do realise that I’m missing my radio show to be here with you tonight?”
Merlyo curiously looked at the colourful red, blue and yellow newspaper advertisement that Zalewski was pointing to upon the page to see the cloaked figure of The Shadow ominously staring back at him. It stated that The Shadow was “radio’s greatest thriller” and was sponsored by the famous Blue Coal Company that he knew sold a supposedly superior form of burnable anthracite. Merlyo then curiously raised one eyebrow before speaking again “Don’t you start again” before the smiling Zalewski replied, wanting to get onto the sensitive topic which he always liked to be updated on “So how’s things going with you and ‘Miss Heartbreaker’?”
A large smile instantly developed upon Merlyo face and just as he was about to proudly tell his partner about how all was forgiven after the Voodoo Doctor incident, the smartly dressed Italian man then made a casual exit with an older and shabbily dressed unknown woman. The unknown woman looked rough as if the Roaring Third had shown her better days in the long and distant past and even the cruelty of time had not been kind to her as her withered skin briefly shone under the Kingsbury Conundrums bar sign.
The newly focused Merlyo and Zalewski then both knowingly nodded at each other in silent agreement before they casually got up and while Merlyo proceeded to hastily pay their bar tab, the preoccupied Zalewski walked over to the open door to keep track the two individuals as they went down the rain soaked and shadowy street. Merlyo hurriedly slid his trusty notepad back into his grimly looking inner jacket pocket as he hastily followed the disappearing Zalewski out of the dire establishment and into the soaking wet street outside. Merlyo then quickly put on his small ill-fitting hobo hat and followed the distant Zalewski as they both cautiously followed the mystery couple through the dark, maze-like shadowy streets of the congested area.
As the two detectives carefully followed there mystery quarry from a safe distance, they soon passed by a few drunk vagrants whom where fighting, swearing and urinating on the side of the shadowy street. As the months of undercover surveillance had persisted both detectives had come to understand that the people of this slum considered such behaviour as normal and to obtain good, reliable information you had to be willing to part with alcohol because it was a prized commodity. Alcohol was also the reason why they were currently following the well dressed and scar faced Italian man from the infamous Kingsbury Conundrum because they had a tip-off from a trusted alcohol-loving source, that he was a well noted member of Polizzi’s Mayfield Road Mob.
The smartly dressed man was in fact none other than Charles “Chuck” Polizzi and he was one of the same men whom both detectives recognised within the spinning mob’s Chrysler just prior to their own fateful spin on the infamous night of “the owl’s death rally”. Chuck’s real name was Leo Berkowitz and he was not Italian at all but descended from a long line of Russian and Jewish ancestry. Both his parents had died when he was very young and just newly arrived in Cleveland and this had in turn forced him to grow up on the tough streets which is where he first came into contact with Alfred Polizzi. The two had then developed a bond over the years and he was so trusted by the infamous mobster that he had even unofficially adopted and renamed him. To make matters even more confusing he had the distinctive habit of calling himself “Albert Polizzi” or even “Little Fish” Machiano and was renowned within the underworld as the loyal muscle behind Polizzi’s notorious underworld operations.
His new scar that jaggedly ran down the entire left hand side of his face now obviously made him easily recognisable but even without this both detectives could still easily recognise him due to his distinctively unusual facial characteristics. His jet black bushy eyebrows set harshly against his sleeked back and greying wavy hair and, along with his brutish and thug like appearance, this gave him a distinctly unpleasant aura of a man to best be avoided. The detectives had both attempted to chase him down through a variety of sources but the elusive mob member had proved to be extremely difficult to catch due to his well-connected underworld allies. Word on the street was that he always covered his tracks extremely well which is why he liked the name “little fish” because he considered himself to be rather slippery and difficult to catch.
Whereas other rumours suggested that his gruesomely acquired scar was given to him by his own adopted and cruel master due his failure to adequately control his Chrysler before its fateful spin. Polizzi’s impressively expensive army of automobile investments, which he valued more than the lives of his own goons, was precious to him and having one riddled and smoking with bullets holes from Ness’s men infuriated the Italian mobster. Rumours abounded on the streets that he took out his frustration upon the driver of the defeated Chrysler after that infamous night and beat him up with his silver owl motif knuckle dusters before then using a knife to ensure that the message of “failure will not be tolerated” would never be forgotten. Whatever the truth was, he was here now and hopefully leading them to a known associate of his, a mystery man whom was notorious throughout the Roaring Third and was known only as “The Chicken Freak”.
Rumours abounded that there was a large mad man seen running around the area at night with a meat cleaver whom wore nothing but a plastic chicken mask and a leather apron. This Chicken Freak was a known associate of Little Fish whom supposedly hired prostitutes for the Freak so that he could masturbate over a live chicken within his basement and climax as the prostitute cut off the unfortunate chickens head with his own beloved cleaver. No one knew why this mobster was in leagues with this rather oddball character but many speculated that it had something to do with drug running within the Roaring Third area. This promising lead did somewhat fit with the criteria of the Torso Clinic profile and so both detectives where optimistic about this particular tip off and although they did not trust the residents of Kingsbury Run, they were always keen to get out of the claustrophobic office.
A soaking wet Merlyo then came hurriedly up behind a paused and equally soaking wet Zalewski whom had cautiously stopped by the exit of a dark alleyway because he wanted to remain hidden within the concealing shadows. The violent lashing rain continued to come down from the venomous clouds above and soaked there ill-fitting hobo clothes with littl
e regard for their dignity. The two detectives then grabbed some nearby loose cardboard boxes to shield their soaking wet heads from the relentless assault of rain as they stood there by the exit of the alleyway. The irritable Merlyo then put his useless dripping wet hat into his jacket pocket before the preoccupied Zalewski quietly spoke to him as he pointed “There! That home right there!”
Merlyo followed his partner’s finger as it pointed to a rather small and old looking dishevelled two story home that sat awkwardly on the corner of the adjacent street. The home appeared to be inhabited because it had a few flickering lights emanating from its unseen interior whilst two rickety shanty homes flanked it on either side. A satisfied looking Little Fish Machiano then casually left this building on his own, disposed of his solidarity cigarette by flicking it into a puddle and slowly walked off down the badly lit street. Just as the focused Zalewski was about to follow his quarry from the safety of the dark alleyways exit, Merlyo grabbed his arm and forcefully pulled him back as they both then heard chicken noises coming from around the back of the dishevelled home.
Both detectives then turned to face one another and knowingly smiled as if they knew what the other was thinking before they both started to cautiously make their way across the wet street and towards the dishevelled home. The elusive mobster then once again disappeared into the night rain as his previous two shadowy pursuers ignored him and persisted in locating the infamous Chicken Freak, whom they both suspected was none other than the Mad Butcher himself. The two silent detectives then callously disposed of their soaked cardboard umbrella’s in unison and took out there distinctively unique weapons from there hidden shoulder holsters. Merlyo’s black colt revolver was sightless within the rain whilst Zalewski’s large twin silver pistols gleamed in what little street light there was as they carefully made their way across the rest of street and towards the side of the dishevelled home.
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