The Book of Death

by AnonYMous

  ‘Have you come here just to see me?’ he asked.

  ‘Actually I’ve come to report a theft.’

  From behind Sanchez, Flake called out, ‘I can help with that. Please take a seat, miss.’

  Jessica sauntered past Sanchez and took a seat on the customer side of Flake’s reception desk. ‘Who are you then, sweetcheeks?’ she asked.

  ‘Officer Munroe,’ said Flake in an official sounding voice. ‘And you are?’

  Sanchez answered on Jessica’s behalf. ‘Jessica Xavier,’ he said.

  Jessica turned her head and eyed him suspiciously. ‘How do you know my surname?’ she asked.

  It was a good question. Sanchez had hired the services of Rick from the Ole Au Lait to find out the information from some seedy contacts he had in the press. Best not to admit to that, though.

  ‘You talk in your sleep,’ he replied, relieved that he was wearing his sunglasses, which would hide the deceit in his eyes.

  Flake had been typing the name into her computer. After hearing the revelation that Jessica talked in her sleep she looked up. ‘You two have slept together?’ she asked.

  Jessica grinned at Flake. ‘Oh yes, lots of times. Sanchez is a real animal in bed. Didn’t you know?’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  Sanchez frowned. He’d never slept with Jessica. Maybe she thought they had? She certainly seemed to be bigging him up to Flake. Maybe this meant she was into him? If she genuinely thought they had already slept together then he really did stand a chance.

  ‘We go way back,’ he said insouciantly.

  ‘Okay,’ said Flake, not sounding convinced. ‘So Miss Xavier, what is it that you’d like to report stolen?’

  ‘A book.’

  Sanchez’s ears perked up at hearing about yet another stolen book. He quickly butted in. ‘What’s it called?’ he asked.

  Jessica kept her gaze fixed on Flake who was still tapping away on her keyboard. ‘It’s called The Book of Death,’ she said.

  Well, this had Sanchez confused. Jessica was looking for the same book as Ulrika Price. The same book that Sanchez himself had stolen, but then given to Rick to return to the library. Why would Jessica be reporting it stolen?

  Flake remained calm and didn’t give away the fact that she, like Sanchez, was only too aware of the fact that Ulrika had reported the book missing earlier. And they had turned Ulrika to dust and ash, the remains of which were now in the bin.

  ‘Do you know where it was stolen from please?’ Flake asked.

  ‘The local library.’

  Flake tapped away some more on her keyboard before asking. ‘You work there?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Was it your book?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why was it at the library then?’

  ‘Because that’s where I liked to keep it.’

  Flake looked confused. ‘Have you questioned the librarians about it?’ she asked.

  ‘The chief librarian is a bitch.’

  Sanchez nodded. ‘Right. Good riddance to her.’

  Jessica spun around on her chair. ‘What do you mean, good riddance? Have you seen her?’

  ‘Umm, well, y’ know…’

  Flake jumped in to bail him out. ‘What he means is, they used to date.’

  Jessica turned back to Flake. Sanchez frowned. What the fuck was Flake talking about? Jessica didn’t seem convinced either.

  ‘You what?’ she asked, glaring at Flake.

  Flake shrugged. ‘Oh yeah. You know Sanchez. He’s a real ladies’ man. He met Ulrika and just swept her away. But she turned a bit psycho, so he recently dumped her. Didn’t you, Sanchez?’

  Sanchez nodded. ‘Like I said, she was a bitch. Good riddance to her.’

  Jessica eyed them both suspiciously for a moment. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘But if you see her, I’d like to know about it. She might have the book I’m looking for.’

  ‘Certainly,’ said Flake. ‘Can you tell us what this book looks like?’

  ‘It’s a big black hardback book.’

  ‘That’s it? Just black?’

  ‘As far as I know. I’ve never actually seen it.’

  Flake looked puzzled. ‘What do you mean you’ve never actually seen it? I thought it was your book. Surely you must know what it looks like?’

  ‘It’s actually my father’s book. A family heirloom that will rightfully be mine one day.’

  Flake stopped tapping on her keyboard and pursed her lips, deep in thought for a moment before responding. ‘Look, Miss Xavier, I don’t mean to sound obtuse, but surely, if this is just a book with a black cover and you’ve never even seen it, wouldn’t it be easier just to go to the shop and order a new copy?’

  ‘It’s one of a kind. There was only one copy ever printed.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Flake asked.

  ‘Yes I’m sure.’ Jessica’s voice hinted at some serious irritation.

  Sanchez tried to appease the situation. ‘Maybe it’s available on the Kindle?’ he suggested.

  ‘IT’S NOT AVAILABLE ON THE FUCKING KINDLE!’ Jessica snapped.

  ‘It wouldn’t hurt to check though?’ Sanchez suggested.

  Jessica took a deep breath. ‘It’s a hand written book. It’s centuries old. And it’s worth a lot of money. To me, anyway. I’m advising you two about it, because I’m offering a fifty thousand dollar reward for its return.’

  Sanchez’s eyes lit up. ‘Fifty thousand?’

  ‘Yes. Fifty thousand.’

  ‘Where d’ya get that kind of money?’

  ‘My father is a wealthy man,’ Jessica said, her voice hinting at a degree of irritation at all the questions. ‘If you get the book, bring it to me. I’ll be staying at my father’s new home on the edge of the city.’

  Flake tapped the keyboard once again. ‘Do you have the address please?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. It’s the Casa De Ville.’

  Sanchez was taken aback. The Casa De Ville was the former home of El Santino, the recently deceased crime lord of Santa Mondega. And it was a nasty place too. Scary looking from the outside. It was practically a castle. Anyone who could afford to live there must have a serious amount of cash. Really serious.

  Before he could comment, he heard a door open behind him. Captain Harker walked in through the door at the rear of the reception. He was holding a small piece of paper in his right hand. He headed straight for Sanchez.

  ‘You, Sanchez, I got a job for you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘There’s been a murder on 54th Street. The ambulance crew are already there. The residents are saying that the boyfriend of the woman in apartment 406 stabbed some guy in the throat. I need you to question the woman in 406. Find out who her boyfriend is and why he stabbed the guy, and see if you can find out where he went. The woman’s name is Beth Lansbury. You think you can do that? And get me something useful?’

  Sanchez shrugged. ‘Yeah, s’pose so. Mental Beth, huh? Who knew she had a boyfriend?’

  ‘Not me,’ said Harker handing Sanchez the small slip of paper and a set of car keys from his pocket. ‘That’s the keys to your squad car, number seven. It’s parked out back. And the address is on that piece of paper. If there’s any street cops anywhere in the vicinity of the murder I’ll get them to stop by and take over from you.’

  Sanchez took the piece of paper and looked at the details. ‘Do we know who the victim was?’ he asked.

  Harker shook his head. ‘No one local. Some dude with a pink mohawk haircut apparently. Probably drug related.’

  From behind Harker, Jessica perked up. ‘Did you say it was a guy with a pink mohawk?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah. Freaky, huh?’

  ‘What was his name?’ Jessica asked.

  Harker frowned as he tried to remember. ‘Ambulance people said his name was Silver or something.’

  ‘Silvinho?’

  ‘Yeah, that was it. You know him?’

  ‘I did.’ Jessica stood up from her seat. ‘He was a real
hardass. Ain’t many folks around here that could get close enough to him to stab him in the throat.’

  ‘Well, somebody did,’ said Harker.

  Jessica brushed past him and grabbed the slip of paper from Sanchez’s hand. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’m coming with you, Sanchez. I’d like to meet this Beth Lansbury myself.’

  Sanchez couldn’t believe his luck. This was a sure sign that Jessica was keen to hang out with him. It had to be something to do with the uniform. Chicks dig the uniform, he thought to himself. It was only his first day as a stand in police officer and already he was taking Jessica on a ride along. This was going to be the start of something big.

  Eighteen

  Sanchez had never driven a police squad car before. He’d ridden in the back a few times, but being the guy in charge of the siren and the flashing blue lights was awesome. Having Jessica in the car with him only added to the experience.

  ‘Hey Jessica, watch this,’ he said, slowing the car down to a crawl on one particularly icy street. He steered it over towards the sidewalk where an elderly lady with a walking stick was struggling to stay on her feet as she hobbled through the snow. As the car pulled in just a few yards behind her, Sanchez flicked a switch on the dashboard and turned on the siren. It blared out at a deafening level, causing the old lady to jump in shock. She slipped on the ice and fell backwards, landing flat on her back, screaming out in pain. Sanchez turned off the siren and sped off again. He nudged Jessica who was sat shaking her head in disapproval in the passenger seat.

  ‘Pretty funny, huh?’ he said.

  ‘Hilarious. How about just getting us to the crime scene now though, huh?’

  ‘Yeah, good idea. Shout if you see any more old people though. Or young children for that matter. Or cats.’

  Jessica let out a deep sigh. ‘You know, Sanchez, it’s times like this when I wonder how it is that you’re single. You’re a real catch.’

  ‘Yeah, well,’ he said straightening his sunglasses. ‘While I’ve been nursing you out of a coma for the last few months I haven’t had time for anyone else.’

  ‘That’s too bad.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what else is too bad. Did you know that your old boyfriend Jefe got shot in the face during the eclipse last year?’

  ‘Oh, did he?’

  ‘Yeah, he must be gutted.’

  ‘He can’t be gutted if he’s dead.’

  ‘I would be.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  Jessica didn’t seem too bothered about Jefe’s death. That’s what being in a coma for months will do to you, thought Sanchez. This was most definitely an opportunity to put forward his own case. ‘So, I guess with Jefe dead, it means you’re single too? Maybe we should go out on a date?’

  Jessica stared out of her passenger side window. ‘Can we talk about something else?’ she said.

  ‘If you like.’

  Sanchez hit the brakes as they approached a red light. The car skidded a few times before eventually stopping just before the lights. He looked over at Jessica. She was still staring out of the window at the snow. ‘I wonder what this crime scene will look like when we get there,’ he mused.

  ‘Bloody, probably,’ said Jessica. ‘If it really is the Silvinho that I know then it’ll be messy. He’s no fool. Not many people in this town could have killed him.’

  The traffic lights turned green and Sanchez pulled away, driving with a little more care this time. ‘So how do you know this Silvinho guy anyway?’ he asked. ‘And who would want to kill him?’

  ‘The Bourbon Kid.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jessica pointed at the road up ahead. ‘We’re nearly there. I can see an ambulance parked outside that building. That must be it.’

  Sanchez looked to where Jessica was pointing. Sure enough, a hundred yards down the road was an ambulance with its blue lights flashing. There was a crowd of people on the street outside the building, even though it was snowing outside.

  ‘Where the hell am I gonna park?’ Sanchez muttered aloud, looking for a space.

  ‘Over there,’ said Jessica pointing at a space on the opposite side of the road to the ambulance.

  ‘Good spot,’ said Sanchez. ‘Right outside the Dirty Donut shop too.’

  He pulled the car over and in spite of the front wheel riding up onto the sidewalk briefly, he slipped it into the space just fine.

  Jessica was quick to open the passenger side door. ‘Why don’t you grab us some donuts?’ she suggested as she climbed out. ‘I’ll head up to this Beth Lansbury’s apartment and make sure the coast is clear. You might spot the killer escaping while you’re buying the donuts.’

  ‘Great idea,’ said Sanchez, pleased that she had made the suggestion. ‘Any particular donut you’d like?’

  ‘Surprise me.’

  Sanchez climbed out of the car, grateful to be wearing his new Stetson hat, which did a great job of sheltering him from the snow, which was at last showing signs of easing up. By the time he’d stepped onto the sidewalk, Jessica had vanished. She obviously didn’t feel like hanging around outside in the cold weather.

  The ambulance outside Remington Tower had quite a crowd around it, yet the medics themselves were nowhere to be seen. There was another police squad car parked further down the road too, which was a relief. It would mean Sanchez wasn’t the first officer on the scene and therefore the potential for fucking up a crime scene was limited. Anyhow, more importantly, he had to work out how many donuts he could afford.

  The guy in the donut shop looked like he enjoyed a cake or two himself. And a lot of beer and pizza too. He was a short, rotund fellow with a curly brown mullet haircut. His stained white DIRTY DONUTS T-shirt fitted so tightly to his curves it looked as if it had been tattooed on. Clearly this guy was eating the profits.

  ‘Got any special offers on?’ Sanchez asked as he approached the counter.

  ‘I recommend the Fat Boy Pick and Mix,’ the man suggested.

  ‘What’s that then?’

  ‘A box of ten donuts of your choice. Only five bucks.’

  ‘That sounds like donut heaven. I’ll take one.’

  Sanchez spent five minutes or so deciding which donuts to have. The variety on offer was extremely impressive. So much so that he bought two boxes, one to take up to the crime scene and another to stick on the back seat of the squad car for later.

  By the time he’d stored the spare box on the back seat and crossed the road to head towards the crowd of onlookers stood outside Remington Tower, it had stopped snowing. Jessica hadn’t come back down, and no dead body had been carried out by any medics either.

  ‘Step aside please. Officer coming through,’ he said pulling his nightstick out with his free hand and prodding people with it as he made his way through the crowd and up to the front of the building. The door at the entrance was slightly ajar. To avoid crushing any of his donuts he backed into it and forced it open with his ass cheeks.

  Once inside, he kicked the door shut behind him to stop anyone else from getting in. The corridor wasn’t much warmer than the cold wind outside. “What a shitty apartment block this is!” he thought. He slid his nightstick back into its holster on his belt and opened the box of donuts. He pulled out a pink iced ring and took a large bite. It was as tasty as it looked. Next decision, stairs or elevator? He remembered the stink in the elevator at the station and decided the stairs would be a better option. Plus the stairs would take longer and he’d be able to eat at least two more donuts by the time he made it to the fourth floor. Maybe three more.

  When he eventually made it to the fourth floor he was met by an eerie silence. If this was the floor on which the murder had taken place, then why was it so quiet? It ought to be buzzing with onlookers, ambulance crew and cops. He stepped off the staircase and into a long hallway. At the end of the hall he could see the crime scene. The dead body of a guy with pink hair was slumped against the wall. Even from where Sanchez was he could see that the guy was a mess. There
was an awful lot of blood on the floor and over the wall behind him. Sanchez shoved the rest of his third donut into his mouth, then pulled his nightstick back from its sheath, ready for action.

  He edged slowly down the hallway towards the apartment at the end. The walls of the corridor reminded him of the walls in the Tapioca after a typical visit from the Bourbon Kid. They were covered in blood and stank of death. Aside from his own footsteps, the eerie quiet remained. Where the hell was Jessica? Or Mental Beth? He could see the door to Beth’s apartment was slightly ajar, but no sounds were coming from within. He edged ever closer, wondering exactly what he would find inside

  With his back against the wall he sidled up to the doorway and peered through the gap. He couldn’t see anything of interest, but he was really wishing he had a gun instead of a stick. He poked a leg out and kicked at the door. It creaked as it opened slightly. Nothing seemed to have been disturbed so he kicked the door again, a little harder this time, keeping his distance, just in case. It opened fully this time. He counted to three in his head then peered around the door into the apartment, with his nightstick drawn and ready for action.

  His eyes darted around at the sight in the apartment before him. Nothing was moving so he lowered his nightstick and stepped inside.

  His jaw dropped open as he saw the carnage in front of him.

  This was a bloodbath.

  Nineteen

  The Santa Mondega International Hotel looked as impressive as ever, which was quite a feat considering Peto the Hubal monk had been beheaded in the lobby the night before. And of course, Dante had shot Robert Swann in the head at the foot of the steps out front. Add to that the small matter of Kacy shooting Agent Roxanne Valdez in the face in one of the upstairs corridors and it had to be said that the place was in remarkable shape. Any new visitors would be none the wiser about what had gone on there in the last twenty-four hours.

  The lobby was a tad quieter than usual, but so were most places in Santa Mondega, simply because the population had dropped considerably overnight.