From The Shadows (Blaze series Book 1)

by David Carter

  “Yes, she was. She said it was a man by the name of Duncan Walters.”

  Jones started sweating. “I am seeing a possible pattern here, detective,” he said.

  “I am too. The Bible verses are obviously a common theme at both crime scenes.”

  Jones shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant. It’s obvious to me that all three victims were specifically chosen for their roles by the Protectors of the Past.”

  “What are you saying? Is the Watcher picking off people that were secretly elected into their positions in the community by your club? And if so, why?”

  “Well, from the message I received in the mail about Karl and Luke, the Watcher was disgusted that we had unknowingly appointed two homosexuals as law enforcement officers.”

  “Okay, that explains those two, but how does it account for Duncan Walters?”

  “We appointed him as head deacon of the church.”

  “But that doesn’t mean anything unless he’s done something the Watcher considers as wrong.”

  They all sat quietly for a minute.

  “The Bible verse!” exclaimed Hampton. “The Watcher left us his justification for the attack on Karl and Luke, and he’s probably done the same thing with this poor bastard—carving it into his chest!”

  Ryan grabbed his keys off his desk. “Everyone head up to the church, now!” he commanded. “And Steve—”

  “Yes, boss?”

  “Good thinking, old timer.”

  Chapter 33

  The butchered corpse of Duncan Walters greeted Ryan and Hampton as they entered the congested office. Ryan ordered everybody to wait outside, so they could do a thorough sweep of the room and observe every malicious detail on the victim’s body.

  “I’d say it’s almost certain this is the work of our religious psychopath,” said Hampton after his initial observations.

  Ryan nodded in agreement. “It’s safe to assume he is in heat, too. Two murders and one critically injured in two days, and God knows how many more to follow,” he said.

  Hampton’s gloved fingers gently lifted the fringe of thick brown hair that covered Duncan’s forehead. “I’ve got something here!” he said.

  “What is it?”

  “See for yourself.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Ryan sighed as he saw the Bible verse carved into Duncan’s forehead: 1 John 1:9.

  “At least that confirms who killed him,” said Hampton.

  “You’re right. The verses on Karl and Luke’s bodies haven’t been released to the media yet, which means the odds of a copy-cat killer leaving the exact same verse that was carved into Karl’s back are astronomical.”

  “What do you think? Is the Watcher leaving a calling card by quoting the same verse on his victims?”

  “It’s possible. Either that, or it’s really important to him somehow.”

  “How so?”

  Ryan thought for a moment, then said, “Didn’t Jonesy say something about being sent a warning in the mail for Luke and Karl before they were attacked?”

  “Yeah, he did. And from what I remember, he mentioned the same verse as what’s inscribed on Duncan’s forehead. I guess he was sent a message, too, but didn’t heed its warning.”

  “I’ll have a team search his house for any form of a threatening note,” said Ryan. Then he asked, “What do you think is so special about that verse anyway?”

  “Well, it speaks of God’s forgiveness of our sins if we confess them to him.”

  “Yeah, I remember that. But why is it so special to the Watcher?”

  “If I had to guess; I think he’s playing God.”

  “Okay, so if that’s true, that begs the ten-million-dollar question; what did Duncan refuse to confess, warranting his execution?”

  “We need to look up and decipher the verse the Watcher left on his chest. I’m sure we will find the answer there. Have you got your phone handy?”

  “Got it right here—er...” He patted his pockets to no avail. “Shit. I left it in the car. Hang on, I’ll just nip out and grab it.”

  “I’ll come with you. I could use some fresh air after wading around this blood-bath.”

  They left the forensics team to examine and bag every shred of evidence. Hampton inhaled deeply through his nose. “Ah, that’s better. You can’t beat fresh country air after examining a smorgasbord of human remains,” he joked.

  Ryan shuddered. “Jesus, Steve, you make our jobs sound bloody awful!”

  Hampton chuckled. “Yeah, well, it ain’t for the faint hearted, especially you young whippersnappers fresh outta kindergarten.”

  Ryan quickly retrieved his phone from the centre console of his car. He opened a Google search page and keyed in the verse that was carved into Duncan’s chest: Mark 9:43 48.

  After a quick skim read, he said, “Here’s the long and short of it. If your eye, your hand, or your foot should cause you to sin, you should—”

  “Cut it off?” Hampton guessed.

  “Ten points to you, sir.”

  “What else does it say?”

  Ryan exhaled heavily through his nose. “I’m abbreviating, but basically it says that it’s better to lose a limb and enter God’s kingdom free from sin, than to have all your limbs and perish for eternity.”

  “Ah that’s right! I remember learning that when I went to Sunday school all those years ago.”

  “But it’s metaphoric, right? God doesn’t actually want people to cut off their body parts, does he?”

  “Of course not! It’s just another way for God to get his point across, that we need to rid ourselves of sin to enter his kingdom or as most people call it, heaven.”

  “So, that ties in with the whole theme of first John, one, nine—that we need to confess our sins and ask for God’s forgiveness to become worthy of heaven?”

  Hampton was impressed at Ryan’s deduction.

  “You’re smarter than you look,” he teased, and heartily slapped him on the back. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. I believe that’s what the Watcher is trying to get across to his victims and us. The problem is that he is taking God’s word literally, and now we have dead bodies piling up all over the place, not to mention we still have no leads on who the crazy bastard is.”

  “That just leaves one question: what did poor old Duncan do to deserve getting sliced apart?”

  Before Hampton answered, Elizabeth walked out of the church with Father Meyer, which grabbed both his and Ryan’s attention. She was upset after giving her statement to the local police, and felt she needed the support of a close friend. When Father Meyer had arrived, they sat together in one of the church pews while he serenaded her with scriptures from the Bible and comforting words of his own. She gave him a hug, then said, “Thank you for dropping everything on your day off for me. It truly means a lot.”

  “I am always on God’s time, my dear Elizabeth. There is nothing more important than helping one of his children in a time of need.” He smiled warmly.

  Ryan walked over to the two of them, and offered his hand as he said, “May I offer my sincerest condolences to you and your church family. My team and I will do everything in our power to find the person responsible for this tragedy.”

  Father Meyer smiled as he extended his arm to shake hands with him. He introduced himself, then said, “Thank you for your kind words, detective...?”

  “Cameron Ryan,” he replied. “I spoke to Elizabeth on the telephone.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, although I don’t care much for the circumstances. These past two weeks have been hard on all the folk in town. First the school was burnt down, then two officers were brutally attacked, and now this...” he shook his head.

  Hampton joined the huddle and quickly introduced himself. After he expressed his condolences, Elizabeth asked, “Do you need anything further from me, detectives? I’ve got a terrible migraine, and would love to go back to my hotel and have a long soak in the hot tub.”

  “I do have a couple of q
uestions, if you don’t mind. I promise to make them as fast and painless as possible,” said Ryan.

  “Look, if it’s okay, I’d really prefer to not go down to the station; I’m weary,” she said.

  “That’s fine. We can do it right here. Perhaps Father Meyer could assist you?”

  “All right, detective,” she agreed reluctantly.

  “Thank you. Well, for starters, I need to know some facts about Duncan. What was his job? How long did he live in Glendale? Did he have any potential enemies?”

  Father Meyer took charge. He cleared his throat, then said, “Duncan showed up in Glendale about three years ago, and started learning the real estate business. He was a genuinely nice man, harbouring no grievances with anyone that I’m aware of. Such was his standing in the church; he was nominated and elected as head deacon, and in my opinion he performed his duties with distinction.”

  Hampton quickly scribbled down every detail. So far everything marries up with what Jonesy said, he thought.

  Ryan continued his questioning. “Do you know of any hobbies, habits, or personality traits that may have caused his killer to leave Duncan in that state? Bearing in mind that whoever did this seems so be punishing those who disobey God’s laws?”

  “I have a possible answer to that,” said Elizabeth, “but I don’t know if it will help in any way.”

  “Please, any information is useful at this point,” said Ryan.

  “Okay, well, I remember this one night, a few months back; I drove to Milton City to visit my daughter, Trinity. She insisted on taking me out to the restaurant at the Milton City Casino. The church is perfectly clear on its gambling policy; none of any kind, which made me feel a little uncomfortable dining there, but she persuaded me I was doing nothing wrong. When I walked into the casino, I noticed Duncan playing on one of the slot machines as I made my way over to the elevator to the upstairs restaurant. He was still there a full two hours later. It deeply concerned me, but it was none of my business what he did behind closed doors, so I kept it to myself.”

  Ryan turned to face Father Meyer. “Would the church hierarchy have punished Duncan in any way if they’d found out about his little trip to the casino?”

  “Most definitely,” he said tersely. “He would have been stripped of his role as head deacon, and wouldn’t have been considered for any further positions in the church until the nominating committee was satisfied he had reformed from his sinful ways.”

  “Thank you, Father.” He turned back to Elizabeth. “So why, apart from respecting Duncan’s privacy, did you not inform the church of what you saw?”

  Elizabeth said nothing until she fine-tuned her answer in her mind, then said, “Because I asked the man who stands at the door who does security… you know, the man who decides who gets to come in or not -”

  “The bouncer?” offered Hampton.

  “Sorry, yes the bouncer. I asked him if he had seen Duncan at the casino before.”

  “And had he?” asked Ryan.

  “After I pointed him out, he said he didn’t recognise him as a regular and that he would know, because he worked twelve hour shifts, six days a week. I just assumed that Duncan had a momentary lapse of faith and kept it under wraps. I mean, let’s be honest; we all stray from the path at some point, don’t we? I’m no better than anyone else.”

  “That’s a very commendable answer for a person of your stature,” said Ryan. “I just have one more question, if that’s okay?”

  “Yes, go ahead, detective.”

  “Do you happen to remember the date that you saw Duncan at the casino? I’ve got a hunch I know the motive behind what happened to him.”

  She thought hard for a full minute. “Actually, now that I think about it, it was the night before I came to pick up the money from the treasury and found it broken into for the second time.”

  Ryan knew what he needed to do. He turned to face Hampton. “Get on the phone to the Milton City Casino with a description of Duncan Walters. I want them to check the video footage from last night for anyone that resembles him and I mean absolutely anyone! When you have done that, head on down to Milton City without me, and go through all the footage they put aside for you until you can confirm that Walters was at the casino last night. If I’m correct, the mystery treasury thief is Mr Duncan Walters himself, and he did it to fund an all-expenses paid night out courtesy of the Glendale Christian Church.”

  “How do you know that?” asked Hampton.

  “The offering basket.”

  “What offering basket?”

  “You’re getting slack, old timer. The offering basket that was placed in Duncan’s right hand containing his three severed body parts.”

  Hampton finally clicked as to what Ryan was getting at. “Together they symbolise his sin! Seeing, taking, and walking into the casino with God’s money from the treasury!”

  “Bingo. Somehow the Watcher knew about it, and carved him apart with a dagger for his trouble.”

  “I can’t believe I missed that! It’s so bloody obvious!” Hampton cursed himself.

  “You’ll get over it, mate. Now go and get that surveillance footage for me.”

  “You got it, boss,” said Hampton as he pulled out his old-school flip cell phone from his trouser pocket, and called directory services for the casino’s phone number.

  Elizabeth was still standing with them, and when Ryan said the word dagger to Hampton, it resonated deep within her memory. She wasn’t sure why she thought it would have anything to do with what had popped into her mind, but she needed to satisfy her curiosity. “Detective, did you say Duncan was murdered with a dagger?”

  Ryan was surprised by her question, but answered, “Yes. In fact, the sequence of events here is identical to what happened at Karl O’Brian and Luke Turner’s residence. He sustained a trauma to the head with a blunt object first, knocking him unconscious, or at least disabling him long enough to disfigure him, before cutting the two Bible verses into his chest and forehead.

  “Oh? Did you just say there were two verses? I only saw the one on his chest.”

  “There was another set of tiny markings hidden under his fringe on his forehead. You wouldn’t have seen them without brushing the hair aside.”

  She knew it couldn’t be possible, but something inside of her kept nagging her to ask. “Detective, could you please humour me and tell me what it was?”

  “The Bible verse? Why would you want to know that? Only a few minutes ago, you wanted to go home because you were feeling ill.”

  She felt a tremor of anxiety coming over her, and desperately said, “Just tell me what it said! I need to know! Please, detective!”

  “All right, all right, I’ll tell you,” he said calmly, not wanting to aggravate her emotions any further. “It read: First John, one, nine.”

  Elizabeth felt sick. She stopped dead in her tracks as her mind flashed back to the day when Blaze had tried to tell her a man had attacked him in his room. She stood there like a statue, her hand covering her mouth from the shock of her thoughts: “Confessions and daggers, First John, one, nine. Bobby was telling the truth.”

  Ryan stared at her. “Are you okay, Elizabeth?”

  Her skin drained of its colour, and her legs felt as if they would crumble as Blaze’s riddle burned through her mind like a flaming sword.

  “I—I—I know someone who might be able to help you,” she stammered.

  “Help me? How?”

  “He might be able to point you in the direction of the man who killed Luke and Duncan.”

  Ryan nearly stumbled over. “Are you serious?”

  “I’m deadly serious. But there’s a catch.”

  “Which is...?”

  “The person who holds the key to finding him is my son.”

  “Surely that’s a good thing?”

  Elizabeth sighed. “We’re not exactly on speaking terms.”

  “That’s okay, we’ll work around it. Where does he live? I’ll have him flown here by this
afternoon if necessary.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  She sighed again. “He currently resides in a cell at Winterhill Corrections Facility.”

  “Shit,” he cursed under his breath. “What did he do?”

  Tears welled up in her eyes as she answered, “He’s the one who burnt down the boarding school.”

  Ryan dropped his chin on his chest and heavily exhaled. “Bloody hell this day just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?”

  “I’m sorry, detective, the history between me and my son is rather—complicated.”

  Ryan signed. “Are you okay to drive?” he asked.

  “Why? Where are we going?”

  “Down to the station.”

  “All right, but may I go back to my hotel and freshen up first? I need to get out of these clothes. I’ll only be an hour tops.”

  “All right, but make it snappy. Oh, and one more thing, Elizabeth...”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.” He smiled. “You have no idea how much help you’ve just been. You too, Father.”

  Father Meyer nodded in appreciation, then said, “Will that be all, detective?”

  “Of course, Father. Don’t let me keep you. I’m sure you have other things you’d much rather be doing than standing outside a crime scene all day.”

  You’re not wrong there, he thought.

  Chapter 34

  The Watcher pulled up next to the curb on the main street in his vintage light blue Ford Anglia. He had purchased it over thirty years ago, and had affectionately nicknamed her Angela. He stepped out onto the sidewalk, and donned his aviator sunglasses and Glendale Vintage Car Club cap. He patted the pocket of his black polo shirt to make sure he had remembered his two items of utmost importance. He walked around the block, whistling his favourite song, before heading towards Harold’s Bargain Bin for the supplies he needed for his guest of honour.

  He casually walked past the police station, blending into the community as he always did with the greatest of ease. He chuckled to himself as he peered over the lenses of his glasses and through the large, slightly tinted police station windows. He saw Elizabeth inside, telling Ryan the long and detailed story of Blaze’s childhood. As he carried on walking to Harold’s Bargain Bin, he muttered, “I’ll be back in just a tick, detective.”