Cannibal Man

by Dorothy Knight

  “Dudley,” he said extending his hand to Henry.

  “This is my long lost brother,” she said to Henry, still hugging him tightly.

  “Nice to meet you.” Henry was courteous. He knew Heidi had an extended family, but due to the mess the family was in, he never thought he would meet any of them. Henry looked at the two. This can’t be.

  Heidi stared at Jimmy. “I remember that Dad said that mom had another boy shortly after she left Dad and me. Dad said it wasn’t his. That was why he threw her out. But mom did come back and stayed with us again for a few months. But only for a short while. I remember you. You were still tiny then. Then I saw you again when I was at high school. Social services wanted to remove you from Mom and wanted you to stay with us. Dad refused.”

  “That’s right. That was when she became a full-on drug addict and she started turning tricks,” Jimmy said. Heidi shook her head up and down.

  “You know she died a few years ago?” Jimmy continued. Heidi shook her head sideways.

  “Not surprising, considering the life she lead,” he continued.

  “We have another brother. He also has a different father. He is ten now and is doing well. Got him into a Catholic school and seeing that he studies hard. Maybe he won’t get caught in the vicious cycle like we did,” Jimmy said. “His name is Stevie. I named him after Stevie Wonder. There was also another little girl, but she died a few months after being born. Social Services said it was due to neglect. So they took us away.”

  Henry would go to church with Heidi on a regular basis. Heidi even bought him his own Bible. He read it over a weekend. It fascinated him: daughters that got their own father drunk and then had sex with him—one even bore the father a child, angels that came down from heaven, took on human shape and raped the earthling women. How sick was that? He wondered if these serious Christians enjoyed reading the naughty bits in the Bible as much as he did.

  Playing the Christian game was second nature to him. After all, he had years and years of practice. He would say the right things at the right time. Everybody was so proud of Heidi’s boyfriend. Everybody believed him, except Heidi. She knew the truth. He played his game effortlessly, making all believe in his good intentions. Nevertheless, he told Heidi to shave her sex from now on.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Both Hobbs and Sauer were in the office before seven. The sun was already beating down with a vengeance. Today was going to be a scorcher. The two of them sat at their desks reading and re-reading statements. What are we not getting?

  Superintendent Hansen walked into their office. For a moment he stared at his two favorite detectives, like a father would stare at his favorite sons.

  “I hear one of your witnesses was found in a gutter last night,” he said.

  “Yes,” Sauer said without looking up. Hobbs looked up at the Superintendent but said nothing. They stared at each other for a moment.

  “Any developments I should know about?”

  Hobbs shook his head. “Waiting for the genetic results. This takes weeks as you know.”

  “Keep me informed,” the old man said and walked out.

  “Do you really think it was Jimmy who gave you the anonymous, desperate call yesterday?”

  “Could be. It sure sounded like him.”

  The two of them read the statements again, sat back in their chairs to think things over and re-read the statements. At about nine, Doctor Mayer phoned them from the mortuary: “Boys, don’t you want to know what I have for you?”

  They drove the Turtle the two blocks to the mortuary. With the rising heat, neither felt like walking the few blocks uphill back to their offices.

  Sauer did his normal pavement parking bit. He reached into the glove compartment and retrieved the little, purple bottle. He took a huge swig, gave a burp and put the bottle in his top pocket. Then he bravely followed Hobbs into the mortuary.

  Bodies were packed on the stainless steel slabs. Some had already been sawn open. Others were so mutilated that sawing would have been obsolete. Bravely, Sauer followed Hobbs to where Doctor Mayer and an assistant were busy with a body. Only when they got closer did they see that it was Jimmy’s corpse. The top of his head was sawed open. His brains lay in a stainless steel bucket next to his head. His chest cavity was being kept open with clamps.

  “Morning, young men,” she said then looked at Sauer worried. “What are you doing in here?”

  He took out the purple bottle and waved it in front of her. “Don’t take too much of that stuff. You’ll get very constipated,” she laughed.

  “I thought that was the Turtle’s doing,” he said and laughed. “I actually want you to give me more,” Sauer said, very proud of not yet even having had one whiff of nausea.

  “Speak to me,” Hobbs interrupted their chit-chat.

  “Oh he did not have long to live anyway,” Doctor Mayer said. “He had full blown acquired immune deficiency syndrome.”

  The two detectives squirmed at the fact. Sauer got especially worried, as he was the one who slapped Jimmy around during the interrogation. He knew that the virus could be transmitted through blood and saliva, both of which he had on his hands after they ‘talked’ to Jimmy. He rubbed his hands on his pants. His stomach turned.

  “His tongue was cut out, not eaten off.” Doctor Mayer continued, “He is full of bite marks and his scrotum was expertly removed. Your killer must know animals well. He must work with them daily. It was as if he was neutered.

  His rectum had a wooden spike in it. It did not really do much damage, as Jimmy’s rectum was long ago stretched and torn beyond repair. Loads of skin found under his nails. He scratched his killer badly, drawing blood from what I can gather.

  Oh yes, and his jaw was broken. But that was an old injury.” Hobbs looked at Sauer who in turned blushed and looked at the floor. He saw the bloody water swirling around his rubber boots and his head started spinning.

  “I am however going to make molds of the bite marks and see if they fit your killer’s. No semen, sorry boys. But we should get enough genetic material from the gunk under the fingernails.”

  Sauer did not hear this last bit as he was staggering for fresh air. He couldn’t reach the basin fast enough. There goes my fucking breakfast! He vomited and vomited, keeping the faucet running all the time. First to come out was the medicine from the purple bottle. Then his breakfast, followed by the undigested leftovers from last night’s supper.

  Hobbs found Sauer leaning on the outside wall of the mortuary in the blazing sun. He patted him on the back and said, “Perhaps next time.”

  “Fuck you man. I might not like the look or smell of dead people, but at least I’m not scared of women that are alive and well,” Sauer snarled. Hobbs laughed as he walked towards the Turtle. Sauer trailed him.

  “You drive for a change. I’m feeling a little weak, having just lost my breakfast and all,” Sauer said from behind him.

  Hobbs got into the driver’s seat, pushed the starter button and pumped the fuel. The Turtle back fired an almighty black cloud. It still hung over the vehicle as Hobbs scratched the Turtle into reverse gear.

  “You see my point,” Sauer grinned weakly as he heaved his hefty body into the passenger seat. “If you can’t even treat The Turtle with respect, how will you ever be able to make passionate love to a woman?” Hobbs ignored him and scratched the Turtle into first gear. What wouldn’t I give now for power steering?

  They drove the few blocks back to the office.

  “Pump the brakes, pump the brakes,” Sauer screamed as Hobbs flew into the parking lot. “Pump the brakes, pump the brakes!”

  Too late, Hobbs did pump the brakes. The Turtle did come to a standstill, a violent one–against another car: Superintendent Mike Hansen’s new subsidized car. The sound of screeching tires mingled loudly with the sounds of crushing metal and splintering windows. That was not the worst part of it. No, the worst part was that Superintendent was inside the vehicle at the time.

  Chapter Th
irty-Two

  Both detectives stared at the old man in horror. The old man tried to ram his door open but the impact must have bent the car’s frame.

  Superintendent Hansen screamed at them, “What the fuck you think you’re doing?” He ranted and raved nonstop, bumping the door with his shoulder in a desperate effort to get out. Hobbs was out of the Turtle in a flash, heaving at the driver’s door to free the old man.

  Sauer also came to a violent standstill. His forehead hit the steel dashboard with such force that he was lights-out for a few seconds. As he came round, the first sound he heard was Superintendent Hansen screaming at Hobbs.

  “You bloody baboon! Idiot! That was my new subsidy car! You cretin!” By now people were hanging out of their office windows looking at the spectacle down in the parking lot. “What the fuck are you looking at?” Hansen shouted at them as he squeezed through the partially open door. A few retrieved back into their offices, but others openly laughed at him. He stormed at Hobbs who stood a few feet away from him. He had to look up at the tall detective. “You…you…you…fucking asshole!”

  Blood freely streamed down Sauer’s face. He pushed the ball of his palm into the cut to stop the bleeding. Neither Hobbs nor the superintendent noticed as the dazed Sauer climbed out of the Turtle and walked into the building. He heard the old man screaming and Hobbs apologizing profusely. Sauer climbed the stairs slowly. He fished in his pocket till he found his handkerchief and pressed it onto his forehead. He walked into their office and collapsed on the dilapidated couch. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. Some days it is better to stay in bed.

  * * * *

  Cold hands touched his face. He opened his eyes slowly. Mrs. Smith’s worried face hovered over him.

  “I got hurt,” was all he said before closing his eyes again. The old lady gently removed the handkerchief from his face. The gash started bleeding immediately again.

  Sauer heard her dial a number and speak quietly. He laid his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Ouch! That hurt!

  “Don’t go anywhere…you just wait here,” she said gently to Sauer as she walked out of the office. Yea right, I feel like running off somewhere fast. He heard her footsteps becoming fainter and fainter. The hallways of the Serious Crimes Unit were silent today.

  Still dazed by his head injury, he heard the ranting and raving Superintendent Hansen storming into the office.

  “Where’s my secretary? Where’s Mrs. Smith?” he shouted in one breath. Then only did he notice Sauer’s bleeding face. “What the fuck happened to you?” he shouted. Sauer ignored him. He heard the irate man stomping around the office and grunting and mumbling to himself.

  Sauer slumbered off until a cold hand touched his face again. He opened his eyes and saw big, blue eyes looking at him, Doctor Mayer. She smiled. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I’ll stitch you up in no time.” When he sat up slightly he saw the office was full of people.

  “What are they all doing here?” he asked Doctor Mayer.

  “Oh, they came to see the blood. You have no idea how blood-thirsty people can get.”

  She cleaned his face with a sharp smelling disinfectant. “Close your eyes,” she said, and he did just that. His head was so sore that he just wanted to lie back and die. A sharp prick made him jump.

  “Hold still,” Doctor Mayer said. Through the slit of his eyelid he saw a huge injection needle. Sauer closed his eyes quickly and leaned back against the wall. Now was not the time to be squeamish. He felt a tiny prick, and then his forehead started going numb.

  With the bloodthirsty crowd milling in and out of Sauer’s office, he received eighteen stitches. He did not even complain once. Brave, young man, he thought to himself, not that he did not feel like screaming. His head throbbed badly. It wasn’t the wound that hurt after all. His face was now numb. It was the sound of the needle piercing his skin that amplified into his head. Grrrrrts, grrrrrts…he heard the gut being dragged through the holes in his skin, like nails on a blackboard. Worst of all was when Doctor Mayer tied the knots. He felt how his skin lifted off his face. He peeked at Doctor Mayer once, only to see her blue eyes staring at the wound on his forehead. She was wearing some sort of a magnifying glass on the top of her glasses.

  “Okay…that should do it,” she said softly to him. He opened his eyes. It was only the two of them left in the office.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled drunkenly. “Where’s rent a crowd?”

  “I had them all chased away. I’m a doctor, not an entertainer. If I wanted to have an audience, I would have become a cabaret star. Want to hear me sing?”

  Sauer laughed softly at her joke. He pushed his body forward, got up slowly and waddled down the hall to the bathroom where he vomited some more. Only when his stomach was devoid of even its juices, did the retching stop and he walked slowly back to the office. It was now empty. Where’s Hobbs when I need him, he wondered to himself. Sauer turned and walked out of the building. The Turtle had been moved. She was parked in a bay, baking in the midday sun without so much as a scratch on her. Paint from the Superintendent’s car clung to her grille guard. Sauer smiled to himself. There was no sign of Hobbs or Superintendent Hansen’s car.

  Sauer got into the Turtle, started the engine and roared out of the parking lot. He found Hobbs at their favorite watering hole, sitting alone at the bar counter, staring into a beer. His face was vacant of any emotions as always, but Sauer knew that he must have had a few already. Sauer sat next to Hobbs without a word. Hobbs nodded and continued drinking his beer. Sauer ordered a stiff brandy, which he finished in two gulps. It settled his stomach. Then he ordered another. The second one he sipped slowly.

  “It’s okay. I’ll live,” Sauer mumbled through the sips, “and thank you for all the devoted attention and interest in my injured state.” Hobbs ignored him and waved his empty beer glass at the barman.

  People stared up at him. He looked down and saw what they were squeamish about. His shirt was covered in blood. “What happened to you?” a tipsy woman asked. The rest of the patrons at the bar listened eagerly for the answer.

  “You know, all in the line of duty,” Sauer giggled drunkenly. “Armed robbers…but if you think I look bad, you must go see what the corpses in the morgue look like.” His head was still thumping but he was drunk enough not to care.

  Sauer took a huge sip of his brandy, gave a massive burp and said, “We were hot on the tail of a gang of robbers. They ran into a deserted warehouse. Hobbs guarded the defenses while I went inside to flush them out. I’m the brave one of us two, you see. Hobbs always waits for back up. But not me. Oh no. I believe in striking when the fire is hot. They caught me from behind. There must have been at least twelve of them. They tied my hands behind my back. The only thing left for me to do was to head butt my way out of the situation. One of them had a knife. I butted him so hard that he was lights-out. Then I picked up the knife and cut myself loose. That was when the fun really started.”

  The story brought a smile to Hobbs’s face. He shook his head. Sauer always jumped back from bad things so easily. The patrons of the bar listened in anticipation, eager for the next installment. Some genuinely believed the story.

  “Where were you?” the nosy bar lady asked Hobbs.

  “He ran to the Turtle and went for help,” Sauer answered. Hobbs just shook his head and then asked Sauer quietly, “You okay?”

  “Why?”

  “If I didn’t know you any better, I’d swear you were drunk.”

  “I’ll get you for this,” Sauer mouthed back. “All this pain and injury you cause me. Believe me the pay back is going to be so sweet and so big. Matter of fact, it is going to be so big that they are going to have to transport it in an eighteen-wheeler and dump it on your head.”

  “Can I buy you another drink?” Hobbs asked.

  So they drank one drink after the other.

  “I suppose we better get back to work,” Sauer eventually slurred to Hobbs.

&nbs
p; “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “But shouldn’t we try sober up first?”

  “I’m not in a mood to eat.”

  “Fried chicken and chips, please,” Sauer hollered at the bar lady.

  The food did make him feel better. His head still throbbed, but it was not as bad.

  “What shall we do first?” Sauer asked.

  “Go visit Mother Tilly and ask her if we could speak to young Steven.”

  “Sure…and she would take us seriously with our booze breaths! Especially yours. Mine now reeks of chips, chicken and vomit.”

  “Didn’t they leave for the South Coast early this morning?”

  “That’s right,” Sauer said. “So perhaps we should go after all.”

  But instead, they drank some more. The sun was starting to set outside and the heat was receding.

  Much later that evening, they discussed the case in lengthy, drunken detail–loudly. They speculated who it could be, and whether one’s eyeballs or tongue would taste better with or without salt and pepper. Sauer told Hobbs that his mother would make beef tongue for Christmas with a sweet mustard sauce. “It is actually nice, once you get your head around what you are eating.” Eventually they staggered off to the Turtle and went home. Sauer dropped Hobbs off before he drove himself home.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Heidi was not home yet. Her evening shifts ended normally at seven. Henry pulled his clothes off, flopped on the bed and immediately started masturbating himself. He was in his final year. They lived on her student nursing salary and his bursary money. They had enough to eat. Heidi would sometimes bring food home from hospital. It wasn’t great, but it filled him up.

  His orgasm was mild. Henry got up, picked his clothes up from the floor and got dressed again. He closed the apartment door behind him and walked out of the building, not knowing where to go. He turned left and strolled past the many Chinese and Indian shops. The prostitutes were not out yet. It was still too early. A blue neon sign down an alley drew his attention: Luscious Love Shop. The blue neon splashed out against the dusk. He saw that one of the doors was open. He walked down the alley and paused momentarily at the door. It was pitch black inside. “Are you the new guy?” a British accent said behind him.