A large meat cleaver had been violently imbedded deep upon the wooden desk nearby the window, immaculately clean and shining with an unspoken malice that only the winged companion knew about. The evil sentry creature within the shadowy tree then ruffled its feathers in anger as it watched the group of sacrilegious interlopers leave its dark domain of sin that it now called home. It could still disgustingly smell the human flesh of the defiant escapee whom should have sated its primal desire of torturous violence but now freely left of his own accord. Its hateful gaze of evil was filled with a pure malice and a grim determination to kill all of the group that had now defiled its territory and that of its human familiar.
Cigarette smoke vigorously filled the sightless interior of the dirty looking silver Stout Scarab as three unseen silhouettes jostled to get comfortable within its spacious interior. The uncharacteristically unclean and non-licenced plated Elegant Mess sat uncomfortably on the tarmac and was nestled uncomfortably in-between the accumulated and flanking trash heaps which mercilessly pressed against it previously gleaming frame. The trash had long since fallen upon its barely visible silver body and spread its unsightly waste over its roof and bonnet, creating a dramatic effect of apparently imprisoning the huge automobile within a tomb of filth and decay.
The dark night rained its usual variety of unseen heavy rain which besieged the entire area within a prison of endless misery which pervaded all, causing many of the usual local inhabitants to flee the streets a long time ago. The silver Scarab was located by a dimly lit area of a cul-de-sac and at the end of a dark street, by a large collection of trash bags which attracted all manner of small creatures whom where in search of food at this late hour. Numerous rats scurried past its silver frame whilst some feral dogs sniffed around the nearby trash and urinated on the accompanying bags, further adding to the already distinct aroma of unpleasantness.
The ill-looking silver Scarab did not escape the dog’s territory markings, to the distinct displeasure of one of the mystery figures inside the entombed automobile, as they angrily shook their fist outside as he hastily lowered window to confront the guilty beast. Not a single inch of Ness’s silver Elegant Mess had remained untouched by the never ending filth as it coated the entire frame within a concealing layer of garbage and slime, strangely making it look characteristically at home here within the dishevelled Roaring Third area of Kingsbury Run. A muffled and irritated voice could just be heard coming from within the Scarab as the regular sound of a nearby freight train roared past “Jesus! Not again!”
The shabbily dressed and vagrant looking Zalewski was irritated at the familiar site of the same canine urinating and defecating for what appeared to be the third time near his window. Smell instantly erupted into the Scarabs smoke filled interior from the open window as the agitated Zalewski quickly rolled it back up, failing in his sixth attempt to dissuade the furry interloper from marking his territory yet again. This brief moment of ventilation allowed the stagnantly rancid air of the nearby trash collection of used clothes and discarded Indian food to invade the smoke saturated Scarabs interior. This had the unwanted effect of further irritating the already uncomfortable Zalewski whom sat upon the irregularly facing right angled front seat again which in turn faced the equally shabbily dressed and miserably looking undercover Merlyo.
Zalewski secretly wished that the obsessed Ness had not bolted the Scarab’s seats into there now static positions because he was finding it difficult to keep an eye on both the bar in front him and the mangy hound that constantly circled the automobile. The lonesome figure of Ness then whispered from the backseat “Shuuuu!” as he was now also amusingly wearing his own variation of vagrant clothes which looked distinctively less authentic than his two veteran counterparts up front. Ness’s grimy and unkempt appearance was amusing in itself and he managed to uncharacteristically slouch down within his seat, authenticating his clothes within a shroud of darkness and making them to seem more plausible. The now silent Ness slowly puffed his already lit and glowing cigarette, illuminating the entombed Scarab’s interior with an orange light that briefly revealed his ridiculous clothes.
This brief sight of Ness’s foolishness soon disappeared yet again however as the concealing shadows once again consumed him whole, leaving only his glowing cigarette as proof of his existence. It had been three weeks since Fronek’s had recalled his fantastic story of escape and Ness had continued the relentless surveillance of Dr Sweeney with his small but loyal select team of Unknowns. This had been no easy task as many outside of this loyal group and within the department where now asking where his Unknowns where and what they were doing all the time. Ness knew that his constant surveillance method was not only expensive but unsustainable but he was still frightened to proceed with an arrest, mainly because he could foretell any outcome of such an event and it was never good.
To Ness’s immense disappointment nothing out of the ordinary had turned up during the constant four month surveillance of Sweeney. The congressman’s cousin appeared to be a well-mannered and politely quiet man whom minded his own business and liked the occasional drink at his local Irish pub. However there was an interesting development in the Mad Butcher case in that the gruesome homicides had apparently ceased altogether and both Ness and Merlyo suspected that the cleaver Dr Sweeney was simply playing another sick game with them. They both suspected that he may already know of the surveillance and, for some strange reason which they could not determine, he had chosen not to tell his powerful first cousin about it. They both speculated that his irrational reasons where possibly because he was enjoying the attention it gave him, further saturating his already grossly inflated ego and also because he enjoyed playing cat and mouse games with his various teams of watchful Unknowns.
There had been a few occasions whereby his teams had strangely lost the smartly dressed doctor and other occasions whereby something strange had happened to them whilst they covertly watched him. On one occasion Shibley, Wachsman and Weitzel proceeded to turn around a blind corner only to find a smiling Sweeney hastily walk past them in the opposite direction. Musil and May lost the fishing Sweeney whilst on Lake Erie nearby Euclid Beach Amusement Park because they were strangely attacked by a large owl and there was even one occasion whereby Gerber and Cowles had been oddly bought five drinks by a mystery admirer at a Roaring Third diner, before they ultimately lost Sweeney within a darkened ally.
Ness still desperately required either evidence or a confession of which he still had neither and he brooded over these complexities before he quietly spoke again from the privacy of the backseat’s darkness “I don’t know how you two do so much undercover surveillance even in your off time, I truly admire both your dedication” Ness noticed that Merlyo’s gaze remained unchanged at his positive remark as both detectives up front continued their silent vigil upon the seedy looking, dishevelled bar in the distance. The relentless rain continually bombarded the vacant streets ahead of them and flooded all within sight, creating a hazy appearance which was making the distant bar disappear and reappear with alarming irregularity.
At that very moment two unknown and shabby dressed African American men then left the aptly named bar known as The Slaughtered Lamb and briefly shouted at each other before disappearing back into the shadowy streets beyond. Upon seeing this familiar sight of drunken antics the focused Merlyo then chose to finally reply to Ness, albeit with a hint of sarcasm within his calm voice “Well sir! Not all of us have the luxury of partying the night away given any plausible socialite excuse. Some of us have steady girlfriends to go home too and thus steady relationships to fulfil us” He was then abruptly cut off by a worried looking Zalewski whom had no intention of spending any more hours entombed with these two feuding colleagues “The Slaughtered Lamb? Can you both believe that name huh? Hehe! I mean I have heard of ‘The Black Swan’ or ‘The Red Lion’ but that name is pretty ominous wouldn’t you guys agree? Geez! Hehe!”
The concerned Zalewski smiled an awkward smile
at the both of them as the unseen Ness’s hidden face was suddenly brilliantly lit up again with the orange glow of his cigarette until it disappeared once more back into the darkness as the glow dissipated. The uncomfortable Zalewski knew that he might have to be here all night with these two love struck men whom both still loved the same woman and where even now battling for her heart within the smoggy silver Scarab’s arena. This truly terrifying prospect of staying sealed within the Scarab for hours with the battling pair was even more than he could bare and he did not relish the idea of playing the role of peacemaker but both had recently had arguments about their separately ongoing relationships and argued about the others continual desires for Poppy.
Merlyo had been angered over Ness’s recent wish to resurrect his relationship with Poppy, apparent disregard for Evaline whom he had already told all that he would soon marry and his uncaring nature towards his currently lonely wife Edna. Ness on the other hand was angered over Merlyo’s loyal commitment to his former love and his apparent inability to understand her complex emotions, which he felt he knew better and could better relate too. Now after a few long arduous hours within the entombed silver Scarab, the façade of politeness was slowly waning within the late hours as both their uncompromising personalities had slowly began to reveal themselves and come into conflict with one another.
Ness then spoke in a more irritable tone because he had not been on such long and tedious surveillance since his Chicago days when he was sent in to stop Capone’s well organised bootlegging operations “Jesus! How long has Cowles been in there now? Is that boy ever going to come out!” Zalewski immediately replied in a surprisingly alert and awake tone, eager to move the topic onto something other than Poppy’s affections “Approximately six hours and twelve minutes now sir! I’ve been in there a few times with Merlyo before. It’s a real dump! One of the worse pubs in Kingsbury Run and even worse than The Kingsbury Conundrum if that’s even possible? Hehe!”
The stern looking Ness then took another long satisfactory puff of his glowing cigarette as the lavishly decorated art deco interior lit up and was soon accompanied by the rich smoke aroma that emanated from the rear seat. Ness finally spoke after a few seconds of silent anticipation, allowing the rich tobacco to infiltrate his awaiting system and calming his highly irritable nerves “Dr Sweeney loves this ‘pristine establishment’ in this god-forsaken shit hole! I can’t say that I see why? However I have a gut feeling gentlemen that he’ll have the urge to do something tonight, something drastic! I can literally feel it in my bones and smell it! Call it one of my gumshoe hunches!”
The highly irritable Merlyo now turned around and replied at the sightless silhouette of the smoking Ness “Really, a hunch?!” The amused Ness simply replied undeterred, eager to combat the aggressive Merlyo with a short reply which he knew would further infuriate the seasoned detective “Yep!” Ness then slowly and deliberately blew the accumulated smoke towards Merlyo’s face as he put his legs up on the art deco table in front of him and crossed them, further showing disregard for the detective whom was in a continual relationship with his beloved Poppy. Merlyo tried not to cough as the smoke liberally coated his face and he became more agitated because Poppy had only just recently admitted to still having feelings for him which further caused the detectives internal anger to swell.
The wily detective knew that this was the good old Ness whom had first come here to Cleveland, arrogant, self-absorbed and the inconsiderate Ness of old whom had now miraculously reanimated himself back from the dead. The darkness now conveniently concealed both his addicted physically identifying features of dilated pupils and unfocused eyes, shielding his obviously renewed opium habit within a wall of shadows. There was no mistake however about his voice which was unable to conceal itself within the shroud of darkness that now cloaked the famed lawman. It had the distinctively familiar characteristic of slurring words which was associated with the high use of opium and now this Ness of old wished to defiantly have another confrontation with him about Poppy’s love, reminiscent of their previous and now famed heartless corpse showdown encounter.
The irritable Merlyo then sarcastically replied whilst attempting to see the dimly lit Ness of old as he slowly slouched down within his shadowy backseat sanctuary “So where all out here all night long, next to the mountain of stinking garbage and facing that dive! The Slaughter Lamb! Not because of any great tip off from a reliable source of information but because of one of your famed ‘gumshoe hunches’!?” Ness’s shadowy face suddenly lit up again with the burning orange glow of the cigarette as he took another long and lingering puff before he slowly replied calmly whilst yet again shooting smoke towards the irritable detective’s face “Yep!”
Merlyo could see that the well-lit Ness continued to look at him intensely through the smoke as he analysed his every detailed facial feature until the disappearing Ness spoke again as his face became shrouded yet again in a concealing shadow “What did she ever see in you Merlyo?” Ness then eagerly awaited his logically emotional response as he pleasurably took a long and analytical look at him again through the smoke, attempting to answer his own question which he could never fully explain.
The facing Zalewski rolled his eyes in disapproval and sighed at this obvious call to arms comment by Ness as he tried to focus on observing the comings and goings of The Slaughtered Lamb patrons, ignoring the inevitable attack from his angry partner. Merlyo then replied with a venom in his tone and a noticeably tangible anger which had now matured within the entombed Scarab “Me? I’m not sure what she ever saw in you!? I mean you’re a complete slime ball who’s heavily addicted to women, partying, scotch and opium! You’re far more fascinated in examined legs and breasts to be bothered with something as mundane as capturing the Mad Butcher! Talking of ‘capturing’ when are you going to marry Evaline? Did those divorce papers with Edna finally come through? How is that ‘casual acquaintance’ wife of yours anyway?”
The calm and collected Ness replied whilst smirking within the shadows as he slouched comfortably within his sanctuary of darkness, amused at the little detectives obvious inferiority complex but jealous of his intimate love with Poppy “You’ll be happy to hear that I’m now officially a bachelor again so please feel free to inform Poppy on my behalf will you” The infuriated Merlyo instantly replied, annoyed at Ness’s apparent uncaring disregard for the feelings of those around him whom have all had their hearts broken so cruelly “Sorry! Who you going to marry? Is it Evaline? Poppy? Or yourself? I get confused with all this stuff. It must be nice to have such a wide variety and selection of potential mates but for someone like you and with of your public standing within the community, that’s normal right?”
The carefree Ness simply ignored his last statement and watched the drunken human activity outside of The Slaughtered Lamb as a few more African American men kicked some bottles on the way out the notorious establishment. The smoke that filled the silver Scarab and the tapping of the rain upon his automobiles roof had a prolific calming effect upon him, making him feel completely at ease with himself and his confrontation with the detective. This confrontation actually amused him because he always took immense pleasure in rubbing Merlyo’s face in the fact that he would always and forever share a special place within Poppy’s heart. He would usually keep such unbecoming amusements to himself however the opium always released this distinctly unpleasant aspect of his behaviour from his well-fortified social restraints. This added benefit of his newly acquired rich opium strain which now raced through his eagerly awaiting system, was that it also alleviated all the anxieties about not finding both the love of his life or the Mad Butcher.
He had felt the worries of finally saying goodbye to his beloved Edna only a few hours before and as the two detectives up front keenly watched the numerous loyal patrons of The Slaughtered Lamb come and go, he had taken the opportunity to escape such worries and condemn them to oblivion as he through some pills in his mouth and washed them down with his favourite
scotch. The last few minutes had been a lesion in pain management as he eagerly awaited for the opium’s renowned relieving effects to take hold of his troubled mind and body. He had wished to silently escape the trauma of regret which he was now feeling in droves about his failed marriage with Edna whom he yet still loved. He wished to replace this troublesome emotion artificially with something else, something more current to bide his time as the opium coursed through his pleading system and worked its unnatural magic upon him. So he had purposely goaded Merlyo into a relationship fight about the other woman he still loved, Poppy, because he was also currently having misgivings about Evaline’s viability as a life partner.
He theorised that she loved him only for his notoriety and fame within the Cleveland community and was possibly far more interested in herself, socialising and her art career than in him. All these conflictingly negative emotions where now blissfully being forgotten so much so that now nothing bothered him, not the Mad Butcher, not the insolent detective up front and not even the obsessive dog that was continually urinating by his beloved Elegant Mess. Not even finally divorcing Edna bothered him now as her face slowly began to disappear from his despondent mind, drifting into the realms of obscurity and taking the pain of their failed marriage with her. He had sadly said goodbye to her this very morning after he had collected the last of his belongings from the lake house and finally finished moving in with Evaline within her stylish flat in the heart of downtown Cleveland.
The Noir Evil Page 53