Serial

by Tim Marquitz

  Isaac waited for the two to break off their groping. When they did, the woman drove away as Mendes strolled back to the house, watching her go. After she turned the corner, the detective went back inside, but he didn’t close the door. A moment later, he came back out fully dressed, his gun and badge visible on his belt. He locked his door and hopped in his car. Isaac waited until Mendes started his vehicle, starting his at the same time.

  Mendes wasted no time. He zipped out of the driveway and roared off in the Chrysler. Isaac waited a moment, and then followed. The neighborhood was fairly closed off from the surrounding streets, so he could afford to sit back a little. Too close on his heels and Mendes would spot him.

  Isaac hung back and kept Mendes in sight, but the lack of traffic made tailing him difficult. The detective hopped on the highway as he wheeled his way toward the east side of town, but kept to the speed limit and stayed in the right-hand lane. The only time he shifted over was to pass a slower moving vehicle, but even then he used his turn signals. He was going out of his way to stay legal, and Isaac didn’t know if that was standard practice for the man or an effort to avoid attention. Whatever it was, it forced Isaac to shoot past him as he tried to use a speeding semi for cover. When Isaac slowed and got out from behind the big truck, Mendes was rolling down the off-ramp at the Zaragosa exit.

  Isaac slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He growled and hopped into the far-right lane, but the next exit was two miles up the road. There were too many feeder streets to even take a guess at which way Mendes had gone. There was also a lot of desert nearby.

  Despite the growth of the city and the push eastward, the area still had pockets of empty space between El Paso and its closest neighbor, Horizon City. Littered with strip clubs and low-rent bars, many of the residential areas were pushed into a circle around the area by zoning codes, leaving nothing but open fields or industrial lots. It was the perfect place to snatch a victim. The bar traffic having just let out, there would be plenty of opportunities, even with the public riled up and on their guard. There were also plenty of places to hide and wait. Isaac had lost Mendes.

  Tired and angry that he’d let Mendes slip away, Isaac returned home. He needed sleep. There would be time. If he was right about Mendes, Isaac knew just the right woman to bring Bane out of hiding, and he’d be waiting.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Death came with the dawn.

  Isaac set his phone aside and groaned as he sat up in bed. Bane had struck again. It wasn’t the over-the-top slaughter Isaac had expected, but it was all the more disturbing for its subtlety. Rather than paint the streets red with blood, Bane had gone a step further and struck at the heart of the city. He had killed the mayor and his family…in their home.

  The captain’s furious voice still ringing in his ear, Isaac dragged himself into the shower, foregoing his morning coffee and his trip through the news channels. Garcia wanted him on scene immediately. Bane had already tipped off the networks, so there wasn’t any point in turning the TV on. It would only piss Isaac off.

  A half hour later, he was on scene.

  The streets cluttered with camera crews and reporters and dozens of people out for a show, Isaac was forced to park several blocks away and walk to the mayor’s house. He ducked his head and bulled through the crowd, ignoring the complaints and calls from the reporters. A quick flash of his badge and he slipped under the caution tape and made his way through the open wrought-iron gate that led to the driveway. It was barely less crowded there.

  Forensic technicians and uniformed officers milled about the front yard and driveway, some working to keep folks from sneaking in, but most were simply waiting their turn to work. Hurry up and wait. No one could do anything until Isaac finished his part of the job. He wasn’t looking forward to it. Despite himself, he felt his cheeks burning. Mendes had given him the slip and now the mayor was dead. More telling, the mayor lived on the east side of town, a short distance from where Mendes had turned off.

  It infuriated Isaac to think he had been so close to catching the detective in the act. Isaac hadn’t thought to return to Mendes’s home and stake it out the rest of the night, and that made him even madder. Had he taken the time to be thorough, and thought less about getting some sleep, he would have known for sure if Bane was Mendes. Now, there was still doubt, however slight.

  Isaac looked to the front door where Captain Garcia was waving to him.

  “Hurry up, Grant. We need to get this fucking scene cleared so we can get the bodies out of here.” Garcia looked exhausted. Blackness filled the deep crevices beneath his eyes and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a week. “The maid found them this morning.”

  “Cameras?”

  Garcia shook his head. “The mayor didn’t want them installed.”

  Isaac sighed and hurried up the front steps. He slipped past the captain without saying another word. Now was not the time to be anything but compliant. The mayor being killed was a serious blow to the credibility of the police department, and all of that fell on Garcia’s shoulders despite the mayor’s bad decisions.

  Out of instinct, he took a second to examine the front of the house, but saw nothing out of place. As Isaac went through the door, he noticed the frame was intact. There was nothing to show it had been forced, and none of the front windows was broken or left open, so Bane probably entered through the back or side.

  The smell of fresh death and feces hit him the second he stepped inside. He remembered to react offendedly, but all he could do was gape in awe at the carnage displayed just inside the large foyer.

  Directly in front of him hung a young boy, the mayor’s son, not more than eight, still in his pajamas. His throat had been slit and his tongue pulled through the opening and used to tie him to the foot of his sister, who hung above him. Her throat had been slit the same way, her purple-and-black tongue draped about the foot of her mother who hung above in the human chain, followed by the mayor. His tongue was tied to the massive chandelier that loomed in the center of the vaulted ceiling.

  Blood, shit and yellowed streaks of urine ran down the chain of bodies to collect in a thick pool on the white-tiled floor. Isaac marveled at the chain as he circled around it, wondering how the tongues withstood the weight of all the bodies. He found his answer a moment later, spying what appeared to be fishing line woven almost invisibly through the armpits of the victims. The line ran through each, strung up and attached to the beam the chandelier was attached to.

  Isaac eased closer to the boy, remembering his name to be Kevin, and examined the start of the line. For all its ingeniousness, the hole punctured through the boy’s shoulder was clearly done in haste. There was no grace to it. It looked as though it had been made by an ice pick.

  He stepped back to view the piece as a whole just as Garcia grunted alongside him. The captain wanted him to hurry, but Isaac had more to think about than just what had been done. There was a question of time that nagged at him. Could Mendes have done this? Despite appearances, it had been a rush job from what Isaac could tell.

  The children were still dressed, with no signs of mutilation. And while the wife was naked, there was no evidence she’d suffered anything more than the wound at her throat and the humiliation of having her tongue tied to her husband. In her early forties, naturally attractive and clearly surgically enhanced, she likely slept in the nude. The mayor was the only one who bore any signs of mutilation.

  Also naked, his chest had been marred with the now-familiar demon image, but it was blurred a bit by fresh blood. Bane was in a hurry. It wasn’t clean like the others. It was more like the first victim. There were signs he had rushed to get the job done and get out of the house before he was found. The signature toothpicks filled the mayor’s eye, though from where Isaac stood, it looked as if there weren’t quite as many as normal. He’d have to count them once the body was brought down.

  “Anything?” Garcia asked, his voice raw with impatience.

  Isaac shook his head.
“It’s got Bane’s trademarks, but there appear to be inconsistencies. I won’t know more until the bodies are examined in detail.”

  Garcia growled and rubbed at his temples. “Damn it, Grant. You need to get this guy.” His tired eyes glared at Isaac. “He killed the fucking mayor…in his house. If we can’t protect him, how in the hell are we supposed to convince the public we can protect them?”

  That was the beauty of Bane’s kill. For all his rush, he had struck a blow that far exceeded Isaac’s own attempt at conquering the city. The people of El Paso weren’t going to just be afraid of going out, now they had to fear for their lives at home. Bane had brought terror with one simple kill. Isaac didn’t know if he could top it. He had no worries he could produce a more brutal showing, but there was no way he could match the value of the target Bane had chosen. The mayor was the symbol of the city. His death was the city’s death. She would crumble around them if Bane remained free to kill again.

  Isaac shrugged. “He’s caught up in the game. He—”

  “This isn’t a fucking game, Grant. This is murder,” the captain shouted. Every eye in the room turned and stared.

  “You know what I meant,” Isaac answered, raising his hands in surrender. “He’s trying too hard, and he’s making mistakes. I’ll find him, and it will be soon.” Thoughts of Mendes flashed through his mind. For all the impact of the crime, he was taking chances. He was putting on the façade of a normal life, flirting and living it up, coming to work, but the schedule Isaac had forced on him was taking its toll.

  “You better, or I’m going to have to turn the case over to someone else.” Garcia sighed as he stared at Isaac. “Don’t make me do that.” He walked away, his head down as he left through the front door.

  Isaac waved to the crime techs to bring the bodies down, and cast a quick glance at them. He’d come to the end game. Garcia was looking to pull him off the case. The city couldn’t support two serial killers. It was too much stress on the populace. The economy would tank and everything else would go soon after, people and businesses fleeing the killing fields. Garcia and Bane were forcing his hand, but Isaac knew something Bane didn’t. He knew who Bane was. Isaac could end it all now.

  He wandered from the foyer and made a quick search of the house as he plotted his next move. The urge to race to kill Mendes gnawed at him, but he shoved it aside. There was nothing he could do in broad daylight. He needed to settle down and do his job in the here and now, and worry about Bane tonight.

  Isaac made a lap around the house, checking the doors and windows. They were locked and looked undisturbed, no broken glass or evidence of forced entry. The only things he noticed that were out of the ordinary were the bloodstains on the beds of the victims. The son and daughter’s beds were pooled with crimson, as was the mayor’s, but there was only one puddle in the big bed. Isaac glanced at the nightstands set beside the bed and saw on one a romance novel, tissues and beauty products spread around the lamp. The other nightstand had a clock, a wallet and keys, clearly showing the couple slept in the same bed and whose side was whose.

  The wife had been killed in bed, but the mayor hadn’t. His side of the mattress, except for spillage from hers, was clean of blood. Mendes hadn’t broken in; he had lured the mayor to the door somehow. With no other blood visible in the house, Isaac imagined the mayor had been killed in the foyer, the majority of the blood on the floor likely his. Isaac remembered Mendes had left his house with his gun and badge. It wouldn’t have taken much to get the mayor to open the door to an officer. He’d probably been the easiest kill of Bane’s streak. Ironically, it was also the most effective.

  There was no time for Isaac to retaliate and plan something more horrific to draw Mendes out further and end all doubt. Even if he could pull something off, it wouldn’t carry the same weight as murdering the mayor under the noses of the police department. No, the time for territorial challenges was over.

  Mendes would die tonight.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Isaac turned onto Mendes’s street just before midnight. He spied the detective’s car in his driveway. A smile stretched his lips as he loosed a quiet sigh. Isaac had gambled that Mendes would stay home and wait for the Ripper’s reply, and it looked like the gamble had paid off. A light flickered through the blinds, but no shadows moved behind them. Isaac settled in as best he could and watched the house.

  He checked his pistol for the tenth time, fingering the safety on and then back off, examining the homemade silencer he’d crafted. As much as he wanted to teach Mendes a lesson and make him suffer, he couldn’t imagine the detective making it easy. Even if he caught Mendes completely unaware, the man was still an officer. He would have weapons by his bed and would be hard to sneak up on. It was the nature of the job. Cops didn’t sleep well, paranoia inherited from the job making restful nights a wistful memory. Isaac figured he would have to shoot him and leave it at that. He couldn’t risk a mistake.

  When the inside light finally shut off, Isaac felt a tremble of excitement. Mendes had led him on a wild chase, but it was coming to a close. In just a short while, Mendes would be dead and there’d only be the Ripper. Isaac would give the town time to settle down and catch its breath, and then he’d be back.

  Just as Isaac reached for the door handle, the porch light flickered on. He cursed under his breath as Mendes stormed from the house and walked briskly to his car. Isaac saw the glimmer of his badge in the light, just before he hopped into the car and whipped out of the driveway. He drove off without a glance back. Isaac followed, waiting until it was safe to turn on his headlights.

  His heart pounded as he tailed the detective. Wherever Mendes was going, he was in a hurry. There was none of the overt law abidance of the last time. Though, he only drove slightly above the speed limit, and he zipped in and out of traffic and seemed to use his turn signals as an afterthought, signaling only some of the time. He got on the highway and immediately shifted to the far-left lane, heading toward the east side of town. His driving made it much easier for Isaac to keep tabs on him.

  The road stretched out before him as he followed, the Horizon exit zipping past before he wondered where Mendes was going. While there were a number of tiny pit stops along the way, there was pretty much nothing between there and Midland-Odessa. Isaac’s excitement grew, his hands tapping the wheel in unconscious anticipation. Mendes was leading him out into the desert.

  Isaac grasped the wheel tighter to stop the shake of his hands and breathed slowly to temper his bloodlust. While trailing Mendes on the highway was simple, if he turned off into the desert things would become much more difficult. Isaac didn’t believe the detective knew he was behind him, but there was always a chance he did. Isaac had to be prepared.

  Finally, at a construction turnaround, Mendes slipped off the highway and onto the narrow service road. Isaac eased onto the shoulder of the overpass and shut his lights off. He watched as Mendes continued on, suddenly turning right into the desert on a road Isaac couldn’t see. He smiled. While he couldn’t see the road, the detective’s taillights were a beacon he’d have no problem following.

  Isaac watched as the car slowed and drove farther and farther into the distance. He plotted the direction and location and waited, the height of the overpass giving him a clear view. The night was moonlit and bright with stars, and he could see the swirling gray dust kicked up by Mendes. At last, the car stopped, but the lights stayed on.

  While unsure of what the detective was doing, Isaac knew he would never have a better opportunity to kill Mendes. He’d isolated himself and Isaac couldn’t picture the move as a trap. He glanced at his cell phone and smiled as it scanned for a network. Mendes was cut off from the world. Now was the time.

  He left the highway, driving with his lights off, and followed Mendes’s trail into the emptiness of the desert. He could see the faint glimmer of the detective’s car as he drove. When he felt he was just outside of the range of being heard by Mendes, Isaac pulled the car off to the s
ide of the road and left it behind. He knew where the detective was, and he would find it much easier to sneak up on him without all the noise. His gun in hand, he drifted through the shrubs and made his way toward the light.

  When he’d finally drawn closer, he smiled as he heard the quiet purr of Mendes’s Chrysler. It covered his approach as he moved to the side and ducked low behind a large shrub. The driver’s side door was open, and the interior light showed the vehicle to be empty. Isaac looked to where the headlights illuminated the rutted dirt road, and spied Mendes bent over something in the road. From behind the bush, Isaac couldn’t see what had the detective so occupied, but it was like fate was sending him a message.

  Kill him now.

  Isaac crept around the car and adjusted his path so the lights wouldn’t cast his shadow in Mendes’s direction. He wanted nothing to ruin his surprise. Isaac still held out hope he could take the detective alive and show him what a real killer did to his victims. How dare he come to Isaac’s town and challenge him. If he had to shoot Mendes, he would, but Isaac wanted him alive.

  One easy step after another, he approached the detective. As he did, he suddenly realized what Mendes was looking at. It was a body bag. It looked in use, faint glimmers of the headlight reflecting off something pale inside. The faint waft of decay confirmed his thoughts. As he inched closer, he could see a misshapen, dark pool of emptiness at the left eye, so different than the other. It had to be the toothpicks.

  His smile quivered as he came up behind the detective, leveling his gun to get the drop on him. He wanted to hear him scream. The crunch of gravel beneath his shoe gave him away, and before he could shoot, Mendes spun. His gun was out too.

  “Stay right there,” Mendes shouted with the barrel of his 9 mm aimed at Isaac’s chest. His eyes narrowed as he recognized him. “Grant?”