The Umbras

by Derek Keeling

  He left his office as fast as he could, almost tripping on the way out the door. The little loaner car, which at first was as troublesome as a car could come, was now an enjoyable piece of machinery to Walter. It started fast and strong, humming a hymn as Walter stepped on the gas pedal to leave the parking lot. The drive to the police station was quick, and heavily fueled by Walter’s furious hunger to know the truth.

  The car screeched into a parking spot in the oversized lot at the police department. A plume of black smoke followed behind and filled the air with a dense burnt rubber stench. Walter quickly exited the car and entered the building. His mind was racing. He could visually see everything in his mind. All the clues fit together in a beautiful sequence. All but one, why. It was driving him nuts. He walked past the front desk without being noticed, and headed straight toward Frank’s office. His hand had just grasped the door handle to the office when he heard someone yelling his name from behind him.

  “Walter, over here,” Frank yelled again, this time louder. Walter turned around and saw Frank Barlow waving him toward the interrogation room. He was surrounded by Francis City’s finest, all of which had very concerned looks stretched across their faces. Walter walked briskly up to Frank and his entourage.

  “Where is he?” he asked Frank. The group of men surrounding Frank looked Walter up and down, sizing him up. It was a typical thing to do as a police officer. Walter knew this and took no notice to it.

  “He’s in here. He hasn’t said anything yet,” Frank affirmed.

  “Okay, I’m going to go in and talk with him,” Walter stated. “But first, I want you to take these and give them to your boys to analyze.” Walter pulled the cigarette butts he had obtained from his left trench coat pocket. After giving them to Frank, he reached deeply into his right pocket and retrieved the small cigarette butt he found in the warehouse. “Run those against this. I’m sure you’ll find some solid proof.” Walter dropped the minuscule butt into Frank’s hand. He turned from Walter and yelled loudly at the men behind him.

  “You heard the man. Take this and get it done, now,” Frank said sternly, handing off the butts to a bug eyed, confused looking officer. He turned and ran toward a hallway and quickly disappeared. “Okay Walter, I’ve got the tape running. My men will be in there with you to make sure everything stays peaceful.”

  “No Frank, I need to be in there alone with him. It’s the only way he’ll talk, I guarantee it,” Walter bargained. Frank stood staring off into space, softly grinding at his jaw and in his mind.

  “Alright Pierce. If anything goes wrong, I’m sending my men in to take care of it,” Frank said. Walter only replied with a confidant nod. He held his hand out, beckoning Walter toward the door. Walter opened the steel door and stepped into the room. The loud sound of metal reverberated in the room as one of the officers closed the impenetrable flat sheet behind Walter.

  “Hello Eddie,” Walter said in a dronish tone. He pulled the chair out from under the square table that was in the middle of the room. He sat down and lit up a cigarette, blowing smoke directly at Eddie in an insulting, yet deserving manner. A large, highly reflective two-way mirror was the only thing that adorned the stark white walls of the interrogation room. The white walls were heavily accented by a bright white light that hung in the center of the room. Even with his brown wide-brim fedora, Walter still had to squint a little bit.

  Eddie sat still and motionless, staring down at the table. He was impressively still. All except his left eye. It twitched with an evil fury. He looked as if he had snapped mentally. A large gathering of sweat rolled down his head and face. The sweat was like a deluge of concentrated fear and corruption. He said nothing. Barely even a breath of air seemed to fill him. Walter blew out another drag of his cigarette and flicked it into the ashtray on the table that was next to the microphone.

  “Are you going to be silent all night?” Walter asked. “I got plenty of time. But, you have even more the way I look at it.” Eddie wasn’t even fazed. He remained completely solid, both in movement and in emotion. All but his left eye, it still twitched violently. Walter decided to try and change his tactics. “You know,” Walter said. “You almost had me there in the warehouse the other day. And you almost had me convinced I was being hunted by The Umbras,” he said with a humoristic tone. He let out a few chuckles and then took a long drag from his cigarette. “But you’re nothing like them. You are way too sloppy,” he said blowing out the smoke. “And weak,” he added. At this point Eddie’s left eye stopped twitching. An angry look came across his face. His eyes squinted at the table with a bold furiousness. It was like he was trying to burrow a hole into the table with his eyes and mind. He very slowly turned his head in Walter’s direction. Both of their eyes met. A minute long stare-off then took place with both of them completely still. Walter could feel Eddie’s eyes burning viciously into his. But he sent the same destructive stare back at Eddie in huge droves. Eddie’s face started to morph into a nicer, more pleasant looking form. Walter felt confused, but continued to stare. Eddie cracked a slight grin and then he licked his lips disturbingly.

  “Got an extra cigarette?” Eddie asked manically, breaking the long silence. Walter perked up and inhaled deep off his death stick. He blew the smoke into Eddie’s face. It hit his face like a baseball hitting a wall. Eddie sat with the same evil grin on his face, unfazed by Walter’s insult.

  “That’s all you’re going to get until you give me some information, understand?” Walter said calmly. Eddie didn’t say or do anything in response to Walter. He just sat with the same ugly grin, staring deep into Walter’s eyes behind a cloud of smoke. “Understand this Eddie. We already have enough information to put you away for a long time. So, you can either help me, or you can begin your time right now,” Walter said in a threating manner. A cold face befell Eddie. A look of utter helplessness and acceptance, like the look a deer gives before it gets hit by a car. His eyes fell back down to the table and a glazed look came over them He knew he was done.

  “I was only doing what I was told,” Eddie confessed hesitantly. His eyes appeared as if they were climbing an invisible ladder back up to Walter’s, stepping up a few inches at a time. After a moment, they finally met with his. “It was only supposed to be Neil. The others were…were mistakes.” His eyes fell back down to the table and then closed.

  “What do you mean?” Walter prodded. He glanced toward the mirror and opened his eyes wide. He did not expect it to be so easy.

  “If everyone would have just stayed out of it, none of this would have happened,” Eddie said.

  “Stayed out of what?” Walter asked.

  “You still don’t know, do you?” Eddie replied.

  “Know what?” Walter asked confused.

  “Neil and I were working on a top secret project at C.A.N.D.L.. We were making a bio-toxin that could kill with extreme speed,” Eddie answered. Walter sat up in his chair and put his cigarette out. Eddie watched him. “So, how about that cigarette?” he asked.

  “Alright,” Walter said hesitantly. He took a cigarette from his pack and stuck it into Eddie’s mouth. He flicked the lighter a few times until it lit with a bright orange and yellow flame. Eddie took an extra deep drag and blew it out.

  “Thank you,” Eddie said with the cigarette sticking out of his lips. “Now where was I? That’s right. We both came up with different ways of delivering the toxin to the bloodstream as quickly and as effectively as possible. Neil’s was a gas that attacked the respiratory system, and it worked well. Mine had to be administered via injection. Mine works quicker, but requires the user to be in close quarters. C.A.N.D.L. would have picked his method of disbursement because of how easy it is to gas an entire population.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that you killed Neil Darden because you were jealous of the toxin he made?” Walter asked loudly.

  “No, hell no. I wasn’t jealous,” Eddie said defensively. He took another intoxicating drag from the cigarette sticking out of his mout
h. “Neil betrayed us.”

  “What do you mean?’ Walter asked.

  “He was going to sell the toxin and delivery method to another company,” Eddie reveled, blowing out his smoke. Walter then knew the answer that had been on his mind for days. The haunting question, why.

  “So you killed him?” Walter said.

  “They told me he was an essential part of the problem, and an essential part of the plan,” Eddie replied.

  “Who? What plan?” Walter asked confused.

  “The higher-ups at C.A.N.D.L.. They said that he needed to be taken out for his treachery,’ he answered. “We also needed a living human subject to test the toxin on. So, it was like killing two birds with one stone.”

  “But it wasn’t as easy as you thought, was it?’ Walter asked, prodding further into Eddie’s mind.

  “It was with Neil,” he replied. “Marcia on the other hand, did not go quietly.” His eyes began to swell with tears. “I didn’t want to do this to her, or Thomas.”

  “What about me? You tried to kill me,” Walter reminded him.

  “I know,” he whispered. “But it was made very clear to me what was going to be done if I didn’t clean up the mess that I made. So I did what I needed to do.”

  “And because of that, you are going away for a long time,” Walter said. He stood from his chair and knocked briskly on the cold steel door. Walter heard the sound of locks being unlatched and then the door swung open. As he stepped outside he was greeted by the same entourage, including Frank Barlow. They all started clapping as soon as the giant door began to close. Walter started smiling, and he meant it too. The feeling of catching the suspect and bringing justice to the case was a great satisfaction for Walter.

  “That was quite impressive Pierce,” Frank said smiling from ear to ear. “I have half a mind to drag you back onto the force.”

  “Let’s not talk about your half-mind,” Walter joked. A few scattered laughs sparked out amongst the group. “Did you hear what he said about C.A.N.D.L.? We need to get the ball rolling on them before they disappear.”

  “I need to talk to you about that,” Frank said seriously.

  “What about?” Walter said, stunned by Frank’s sudden change of attitude.

  “Well, the F.B.I. are going to be taking over on the C.A.N.D.L. part of the case,” Frank answered.

  “Wait, what are you talking about?” Walter asked.

  “We still get Eddie, and all the credit of the case. They are just taking over the C.A.N.D.L. aspect of the case,” Frank replied.

  “This is bullshit and you know it,” Walter yelled.

  “Look, there is nothing you can do about it. Why don’t you head home and get some rest. I’ll call you tomorrow when the test results come in on the cigarettes butts,” Frank said. “Good job Walter, I mean it.” A proud look came over Frank’s face that Walter had never seen before.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Walter said. He shook Frank’s hand and started walking away from the small group that had surrounded Frank and him. The hot sting of justice was still imprinted deep within his mind and body. He was glad that the case was over now. He felt good. For once in a long time, he felt really good.

  Chapter 11

  Black Umbras

  Walter snuffed out his smoldering cigarette in the metal ashtray on his desk. Its embers scattered around like miniature fireworks within the ashtray. A single plume of smoke wafted up into the air. He fanned his hands through the air as fast as he could trying to spread the foul stench. After he thoroughly dispersed it throughout the room, he picked up a stack of papers. His eyes scanned them visually, but his mind did not take the information in. He felt like a zombie. He threw the stack of papers back onto his desk and started fidgeting with his fingers.

  He started to become anxious. It had been a week since the incident with Eddie, and he was starting to get bored with sitting around and waiting for a new case to come in. After finding out that the cigarette butts at C.A.N.D.L. were a match with the cigarettes butt at the warehouse, Walter knew for sure that Eddie would be going away for a very long time. He just had to wait for the court case, which he hated. He never could understand why it took so long to go to court, especially when there was blatantly obvious evidence proving guilt. It drove him nuts. On top of all that, he needed to make money to keep his office open and food on the table. The cases were not rolling in. The money he received from Marcia was just about completely used up. He felt as if being bored and waiting for a case to walk through the door was all that he was doing. In retrospect, he was slightly glad that his services were not needed. It showed that there was less crime on the streets. But still, he had a business to run, and the lack of cases was eating at his bill and food money.

  The phone cried out loudly in the small office. Walter sat up in his chair and let it ring out a couple more times, staring at the phone intently. He hoped this was the call he had been waiting for. His hand gripped the phone and picked it up from its receiver. “Detective Walter Pierce. How may I help you?” he asked politely.

  “Walter, its Frank. I need you to come down to the station. We have a problem,” Frank said seriously.

  “Why? What’s the problem?” Walter asked. A million things ran through his mind all at once.

  “Just get down here,” Frank replied. He sounded just as serious as he did drunk. Walter knew that Frank only drank heavily when something bad happened.

  “Alright, I’m on my way,” Walter said. He heard Frank start talking incoherently as he went to hang up the phone. It was a slur of drunken gibberish that faded out until the phone made a click noise. Walter sat in bewilderment, amazed at the sudden call from Frank. He wondered what could possibly be wrong. He drew up no conclusions. Regardless, he stood from his chair and headed to his small, but faithful, loaner car.

  He arrived at the F.C.P.D. with haste. The mystery and wonder was starting to overwhelm him. He had no idea what was in store for him, and he wasn’t enjoying it. Just based on the sound of Frank’s voice on the phone, he knew something was askew. This was reassured by the fact that when he walked toward Frank’s office, a huge gathering of suited government agents stood in and around the room. Walter slipped passed a couple agents without having any odd looks thrown his way. Frank was busy talking to a tall, slender man in a brown suit. Walter could tell that he was the one in charge, based solely by the way he commanded the attention of Frank.

  “This department will be under full investigation,” Walter heard the man yell at Frank.

  “We had nothing to do with this,” Frank yelled back.

  “That’s the problem Detective,” the man said. “You didn’t have anything to do with this. If you would have, this wouldn’t have happened.” Walter threw his arm into the air and waved it like a middle school student, trying to signal the attention of Frank. Frank looked at him and gave him a surprised look.

  “Alright men, I got work to do,” Frank said to the agents in the room in a rude manner. The man in brown sneered at Frank and turned around.

  “Let’s go,” he said. The agents started to file out of the room, each glancing oddly at Walter as they passed by him. As the door shut, leaving just Walter and Frank in the room, Walter sat down in the chair in front of Frank’s desk.

  “What was that all about?” Walter asked curiously. Frank grunted quietly as he stood from his chair and headed toward his small mini-bar. The gurgling of fine whiskey as it was poured into a nice rocks glass reverberated throughout the room. Frank filled the glass to the brim and took a big drink. A sour look came over his face as he swallowed the potent alcohol. It was followed by a very dry exhaling of air. He walked back to his chair and sat down. He gave Walter a long and penetrating stare. Walter began to feel a little uneasy by Frank’s display of incongruity.

  “Eddie’s dead,” Frank exclaimed suddenly. Walter sat up in his chair and a concerned look came over his face.

  “What? How?” Walter asked surprised.

  “He
was found dead in his cell early this morning,” Frank replied.

  “What happened to him?” Walter said.

  “We’re not completely sure,” Frank answered hesitantly.

  “What do you mean?” Walter prodded.

  “Well, it’s kind of unusual,” Frank said slowly. “He was found dead in his cell with the same needle mark that he gave Neil Darden.”

  “You mean a needle mark on the back of the neck?” Walter asked.

  “Yeah,” Frank answered. “No one was seen going to, at, or leaving the crime scene around the time of death. It’s a little baffling to be honest.”

  “So you don’t have any suspects?” Walter said.

  “No, everyone is kind of stumped at this point,” Frank replied.

  “I’d look into the C.A.N.D.L employees. I bet they’re behind this,” Walter said. “With everything that Eddie has told us, I’d say that they’re trying to cover their tracks.” A drunken grin peeled itself across Frank’s face.

  “That’s actually another one of our problems,” Frank said laughing, followed by taking another sip of his drink.

  “What do you mean?” Walter asked confused at the statement.

  “Besides Eddie being found dead, one of the reasons the F.B.I. were here, is because the C.A.N.D.L. building was burned to the ground. No survivors were found, all presumed dead,” Frank said. Walter placed his hands over his face in disgust, and in confusion.

  “Why?” Walter said rhetorically. His mind paced back and forth in his head searching for a reason why this would have happened. Silence turned the room cold for a moment.

  Walter could feel the chills run up his back as he thought of The Umbras. He slowly began to attempt to piece it together in his mind. All of the things he learned in his investigation began to swarm his brain, trying desperately to align themselves into a recognizable form. The Umbras were something Walter was trying to forget, but it seemed to make sense. Allen Black had told him that The Umbras toxin was supposedly untraceable, and that the C.A.N.D.L.’s toxin was not. So he took a shot in the dark. “Did you run a toxicology test on Eddie?” Walter asked, breaking the stiff silence.