“Are you alright?” Mavel asked.
She bobbed her head. “Yeah, fine, just getting used to…the new perfume.”
“Should we wait for your superior to arrive?”
“Are you the new detective?” someone asked.
Swallowing, Annalise forced a smile and looked at the advancing older man. A pair of blue plastic coveralls wrapped every inch of him except for his balding head. He smirked at her. “Enjoying the view?”
“Yeah, just like one of those early post-war paintings you see in holo-museums.”
“You have good taste in art, I’ll give you that.” He motioned for them to follow. The man led the way to an SUV parked on the lawn near the front door of the bungalow and handed out two sets of coveralls. “Put these on. We don’t want your pristine clothes to get dirty.”
“Do you have a problem with me, mister?”
He pushed his half frame glasses up to the bridge of his crooked nose. “Name’s Clive Hopps. I am the Chief Medical Examiner for DPD, little lady. And no, no problem at all other than the fact that Kevin sent me a damn newbie to babysit.”
Mavel let out a low growl, and she moved in front of him. “I apologise for my servant, he doesn’t like it when pretentious old men let bullshit flow out of their mouths.”
Clive observed her with a pair of piercing grey eyes from behind his thick lenses. “I like your fire, kid. It might come in handy if you ever solve a case without your father’s influence.”
Chief Medical Examiner or not, he had no right to disrespect her the way he did in front of all these officers who had tuned in to watch the show. She squared her shoulders and glared at Clive. “This may be my first case, Hopps, but I will give it my best shot. I expect you to get your oversized head out of your ass long enough to tell me about the victim, so I can start investigating. And, whether I will be using my father’s influence or not is of no concern to an M.E.”
His brows shot up, and Clive flashed a lazy smile. “Good to know you don’t need me to wipe your snot for you. I’ll be where the vic is. Meet me there after you change.”
When Clive left, all energy drained from her body. Her legs grew weak, but she would be damned if she appeared anything other than strong to any of these judgemental pricks. She let her annoyance escape with a prolonged sigh.
“You did well,” Mavel said.
“This is not what I expected,” she replied, unfolding her coveralls. “At the Academy, they taught tolerance and patience. This—”
He patted her on the shoulder. “Lives were not on the line there. The M.E. seems like my instructors—always eager to get through cases before more bodies turn up.”
“You might be right.”
Her superior passed through the holo-barrier with his flare and came over.
“Don’t bother with those,” Jamen said. “We don’t have all day, and it’s best to take a look at the victim’s body as soon as possible.”
Annalise studied the coveralls. One of her legs was already inside. She grumbled a curse and threw them back in the SUV.
Mavel trailed behind her as they made their way over to Clive who bent over the body with his digital tablet in hand.
“Jamen, Calla, breaking the rules as always.” Clive’s disapproving eyes landed on Annalise. “…And teaching the newbie the same, I see.”
“Quit it with the compliments, Clive. What did you find?” Jamen snapped.
Leaning over, Calla whispered into Annalise’s ear. “Doesn’t this view make you want to have a nice, rare steak?”
Annalise cringed and ignored her comment. The remains on the plastic sheet were not something she considered being a body of Robert Fern. A severed head lay separate from the torso with both glazed-over eyes wide open, staring ahead at nothing in particular. What used to be called hair was glued to the victim’s scalp with his drying blood. Half of the upper body had its intestines hanging from the tree. She tried not to think about the remains as she bent down to examine the victim with a gloved hand.
The M.E. drew in a shallow breath and turned on the digital tablet. “The basic information about the victim you should already know from our early report. The abdominal and latissimus dorsi muscle tissues were torn at the time when he was…pulled apart. Small and large intestines were removed antemortem and strung up on the tree. I’m guessing, at some point, some of the remains fell on the ground, leaving us with a sanguine swing.” Clive chuckled. When no one else found it funny, he cleared his throat. “The vic’s lower body is yet to be recovered. It would be best to send someone to the marshlands outside the city to do a search.”
“Why the marsh?” Annalise asked.
Clive knelt next to her and used his stylus to poke the victim’s hair. Lifting a plant with bluish-green leaves, he said, “This is phragmites australis, commonly known as reed grass. It’s usually found in the marshland beyond the slums.”
“The doctor is right, I can smell the marsh water on him,” Mavel added.
“So, he didn’t die here?” Annalise asked.
Clive smirked. “You catch on quick. There might be hope for you yet.”
Ignoring the biting remark, she turned to Jamen who gave a nod of approval and said, “I’ll ask a few officers to do a search for the remains.” He diverted his attention to Clive. “You got anything else?”
“Won’t know till I get the body to the lab.” The M.E. shrugged. “With the budget cuts, the tech on the go is rubbish.”
Calla rolled her eyes. “We don’t have time for your boring speeches about the budget. If that’s everything, can I take a few pictures of my own?”
Clive paled. “You’re a strange woman.”
She grinned and retrieved a micro camera from her back pocket. The flare pointed it at the body and took some close-ups of the remains.
Annalise walked over to Jamen. “We’re going to take a look inside the house.”
“Be my guest,” he replied.
With Mavel at her side, she crossed the lawn to the bungalow. A young officer with blonde hair opened the door for her, and they entered the dull property.
Mavel took her hand, taking charge of leading her into the first room on the right. He paused in the middle of the living room and sucked in a breath. “I can smell her—the victim’s beast. Her trail is faint. She couldn’t have been here in the last few days.”
“Maybe she waited for him outside and attacked when he was returning from work.”
“An escaped servant is a rogue. The victim or his spouse would have reported her.”
Annalise studied the rest of the living room. There wasn’t a single speck of dust on the book shelves. Whoever lived here took care of their possessions. The furniture seemed dated and worn around the edges. Perhaps they paid everything they had for their kids’ school?
She lifted a family photo off the mantelpiece. Two women stood on either side of a younger version of Robert. One was a tall, lean brunette with golden eyes—his beast, Leila. The other woman had a tired smile on her face. Her platinum hair had been tied into a braid that rested on her right shoulder. In front of the adults, two young girls grinned. They looked like an average family. What went wrong?
“Annalise, come here,” Mavel called out.
Following his voice, she entered the master bedroom.
He drew the sheets close to his nose and sniffed them. “Robert wasn’t just sleeping with his wife…”
“What do you mean?”
“The beast’s scent is all over these sheets. It’s stronger in here than in the living room.”
Annalise gasped. “If anyone found out he was fornicating with his beast, he would have been sent to the slums and his kids kicked out from Silver.”
Mavel’s expression turned grim. “It’s as you say.”
3
First Interview
Unable to help herself, Annalise paced the length of the HPD office.
Mavel set aside his digital tablet and sighed. “You will wear the floor down if
you keep at it.”
“I don’t like it when people are late.” She checked her wrist comms again.
“No one does, princess.”
“Shouldn’t it be little princess?” Rios added, sliding his arm around her waist.
Annalise’s ears burned. She was a joke to him, to everyone here. Why was she in the HPD to begin with? Allowing her annoyance to rule her, she elbowed Rios in the gut with some force.
Amusement reflected in the detective’s grey eyes, and he groaned in mock pain. “That hurt…”
“Be glad I didn’t file a complaint for sexual harassment,” Annalise snapped and collapsed into her seat.
“The more I get to know you, the more you grow in here.” Rios pointed to his heart with a lopsided grin.
Rolling her eyes, she tapped the keyboard built into her desk. After entering her code, the terminal screen flicked to life. Another glance at the time confirmed it again—Terry Fern was thirty-three minutes late for her statement. Annalise grumbled a curse under her breath.
“Excuse me, is this the Possession Department?” a barely audible voice came from the doorway.
Annalise straightened her shirt. “Yes, it is. Are you Mrs Fern?”
The woman inclined her head. She looked almost exactly the same as she did in the photo—drained and unhappy. Dark half-moons rimmed her sunken cerulean eyes which were devoid of life. If she was lying motionless on the ground in the Green District’s alley, Annalise doubted she would be able to tell her apart from a corpse.
Annalise pulled up a chair for their visitor. “Please, take a seat.”
“I’ll be hard at work. Call if you need me,” Rios added, leaving for the tiny canteen next to their Chief’s office.
Mrs Fern sat down. “Thank you.”
Not wasting another second, Annalise launched a testimony application, and the AI’s holo-projection appeared above her desk.
“Welcome, Detective, to the reporting system. May I have the details of the citizen providing the statement?” AID asked.
She faced the victim’s wife. “Could you tell me your full details, Mrs Fern?”
“Just call me Terry, my name… No, his name only brings me sorrow.”
Annalise glanced at Mavel who shared the same surprise. She managed a smile.
“My name is Terry Fern.” She sucked in a lengthy breath and quoted her citizen ID number.
“Data acknowledged. Recording commencing…”
Annalise rubbed her sweat-tinged hands on her trousers. This was her first proper interview as a detective. “As his wife, I understand this is a tough time for you.”
Terry clung to her purse as something fleeted behind her soul-less eyes. “A tough time?” She scoffed. “My husband is dead. His mangled remains are all over our neighbourhood! God knows what the neighbours will think of us now. His beast is in the wind, and my children have to leave their school in Silver. How could he do such a thing to me? How?” She grabbed Annalise’s wrist, squeezing it with her bony fingers.
Annalise winced, and Mavel appeared at her side. A low growl sounded from his throat. When she mouthed a “don’t”, he pressed his lips into a thin line and stepped back.
“Mrs Fe—Terry, I’m sorry about your circumstance, but could you please remove your hand? I don’t know if I can control my partner if you don’t.”
Terry blanched and gingerly pulled back. “My apologies, I didn’t—”
“It’s fine.” Annalise shot Terry her most professional Storm smile—a smile she had perfected while her parents paraded her in front of their high society friends.
Terry stared at her quivering hands in her lap. “Robert wasn’t a bad man, and Leila wasn’t a terrible servant. I cared for both of them with all my heart. It only pains me to know that she did such a terrible thing to our family.”
Annalise leant in. “Are you saying she did it?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Who else, other than a possessed beast, could do that to a person?”
“So, you didn’t see her do it,” Mavel said with distaste.
Terry rubbed the back of her neck. “No, not personally.”
“Then your accusations are baseless,” he retorted.
The woman jumped out of her seat with her finger pointed at Mavel’s chest. She was going from hot to cold quicker than the hydrogen-powered trains moved between the cities. “It’s not baseless.” Her voice rose. “That shrew was sleeping with him. She ruined my family, everything we have worked for. H-how is she not guilty?”
Annalise rubbed her eyes. This argument was getting them nowhere. “Mavel, get us some coffee.”
He grumbled something under his breath as he ambled towards the canteen.
“Now, Terry, could you please take a seat so we can start from beginning…” Annalise waited for her to sit back down. “When was the last time you saw your husband?”
Terry scratched her palm. “Two days ago. I told him to leave.”
“May I ask why?”
“No, you may not!” For a long minute, the widow seemed torn. She stared at her trembling hands and said, “We had a fight.”
That’s not surprising. “What did you fight about?”
“Some domestic stuff. He was at the breaking point because Leila had run off,” Terry said.
Annalise scrunched her brows. “A contracted beast just took off and neither of you reported this?”
“He spent his nights with her,” she hissed. “Don’t you think if the police came to investigate, they wouldn’t figure it out? It would ruin us. It already ruined us.” Terry slung her purse strap over her shoulder and stood. “I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”
By the time Annalise reached out, the woman had run out of the office. She contemplated chasing after her but chose against it. Robert’s wife needed to adjust.
Massaging her temples, she said, “AID…?”
The AI’s hologram reappeared. “Yes, Detective?”
“Did you get that?”
“Of course. Would you like me to finish the recording?”
“Please do.” Annalise buried her face in her hands. It was only the afternoon, and she already wanted to return home and sleep for a century.
Mavel placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of her. “She seemed like a bright ray of sunshine.”
Shaking her head, she tried to hide her disapproval. “I can understand her. The victim put her through a lot before he passed.”
He sat on the edge of her desk with a cup in hand. “If I was Robert and had to go back home to that, I would end up in the Red District every night.”
“Well thank heavens he had a beast at his beck and call,” Rios piped in.
Mavel rolled his eyes and brushed past him.
“Where is Des?” Annalise scanned the office. “I haven’t seen her since this morning.”
Rios tapped his nose and grinned mischievously. “Need-to-know basis, but if there’s anything you want to ask about me, I’m free to whisper the filthy details right into your ear.”
She grimaced. That wasn’t happening anytime soon. Before she had a chance to tell him to go to hell, her wrist comms beeped. She checked the display. A small message popped up, stating the address where their victim worked.
“Looks like AID found Robert’s work address. I have to verify this with Jamen,” she said, grabbing her jacket.
“I’m going to miss you.” Rios waved, sauntering back to his desk.
With her superior’s approval, they went ahead to check out the location. This was her first time in the Green. People from other districts rarely visited the dirt-filled streets. The stench of ammonia mixed with cheap smokes was only bearable when something was smuggled, sold, or they were simply forced to work alongside the modded workers.
The workers had the freedom of doing whatever they wanted with their free time, unlike the servants who had to ask for permission from their owner. But if anything happened to one of them, Divinity PD wouldn’t lift a finger. To purebloods, they were
the filth that occupied factories and fields. It was why Annalise never came here. Purebloods were not welcome in the Green, especially if they had a badge.
Full of uncertainty, she tapped her wrist comms and read the address again. She studied the imposing red-brick factory. All four chimneys expelled steam that merged with the heavy grey clouds above.
Mavel stopped her in her tracks. “This place is dangerous. Don’t leave my sight.”
His warm touch sent pleasant tingles down her spine. She brushed him off to keep him from noticing the effect he had on her. “I can take care of myself.”
He blocked her path. “This is not a request, Annalise. These people don’t like police snooping around in their territory.”
The serious expression on his face removed the upturning of the corners of his mouth she had come to love. He rarely defied her and, if he did, it was for a good reason. Looking past him, her nerves returned tenfold.
“Then, by all means, lead the way.”
Mavel said nothing. They edged closer to the two large iron doors. The green paint was peeling and the rust showed beneath. Another decade and this door would fall apart at the softest punch.
Annalise lifted her badge to the camera and the door on her left unlocked. At least, they let the police in.
Her partner led the way. Since humanity ran out of petroleum sometime in the mid-twenty-second century, this factory produced items out of synthesised plastic compounds. Rows of different workstations and conveyor belts were arranged on the floor below them. The sound of heavy machinery and men shouting orders to each other filled the grand space.
She scanned them. Everyone wore grey coveralls. Some seemed unwashed with the amount of grime and dirt clinging to their attire and faces. With one glance, she could tell the majority of the workers were beasts. Their curious stares followed her as she got closer to what appeared to be the manager’s office.
A short, balding man stumbled out of the doorway. His chubby fingers wiped at the coffee stain on his shirt, and he cursed. Once his attention settled on them, he gave her a sleazy smile, which made her skin crawl.
“Detective! It’s quite an honour to have an officer of the law come here, ‘specially when you don’t seem to care unless someone from another district dies… But, do tell me, what can I do for you?”
Case: 0 (Annalise Storm Chronicles Book 1) Page 3