by Alex Siegel
Haymaker led the group into the house through an open front door. Virgil immediately heard women crying with grief. It was a sound he had grown familiar with during his career as a U.S. Marshal.
A crowd had congregated in the elegantly furnished front room. A woman in a red polka dot dress was at the center, and Virgil guessed she was the mother. She was sitting on a chair and sobbing so hard, tears were literally flying. Other women flanked her on all sides and were trying to comfort her.
Alfred went straight to the grieving mother. Good luck with that, Virgil thought.
Haymaker pointed at a man by himself in the corner. "That's the father."
Everybody else in the room was staying away from the father, but Virgil wasn't so timid. He marched over.
"Hello," he said. "I'm from the FBI. I know you've been asked this question a hundred times already, but I have to ask again. Can you think of any reason why somebody would want to murder your daughter?"
The father looked at Virgil with bloodshot eyes. "No. She was perfect. Everybody loved her."
"Teenage girls always have enemies at school, at least."
"Not Melissa. She never gave me any trouble. She was an angel."
Virgil pursed his lips. It was an interesting choice of words.
"Sorry," the father said, "I have to go. I can't talk about this anymore. Just promise me one thing."
"What?"
"If you catch the guy, let me have ten minutes alone with him."
"Uh, that's not the usual procedure," Virgil said, "but don't worry. He'll get what's coming to him. That's my solemn promise."
The father turned abruptly and walked off.
Virgil, Haymaker, Sara, and Lisa watched from a polite distance as Alfred tried to coax information out of the mother. The psychologist's ability to put people at ease impressed Virgil again. Alfred cared so much, almost to a fault. His special voice just enhanced his natural talent.
His work was fruitless though. The mother knew nothing useful.
Finally, the team along with Haymaker left the house. Virgil wondered about the next step in the investigation. Visiting the crime scene had brought him no closer to catching Daniel Shipman. Seeing the body had merely confirmed the serial killer was back to his old habits. Virgil silently swore he would give this case his best effort even if that meant going back to Limbo sooner.
Alfred stopped walking. "I have to tell you something," he told Haymaker.
Everybody else stopped.
"What?" the detective said.
"I lied to you earlier," Alfred said. "I feel bad about that. I can't stand lies and do my best to avoid them. We're not really from the FBI."
Virgil shook his head. "No. Don't."
Alfred looked at Virgil. "He needs our help, and we need his. The only way we can work together is if he knows the truth."
"I strongly disagree."
"You lied to me?" Haymaker said. "Who do you really work for?"
"Heaven and Hell," Alfred blurted out. "We're dead souls, sent back to Earth to catch the killer. His name is Daniel Shipman, by the way." He used his special voice to make himself more convincing.
Nobody spoke for a long moment. Virgil had a foreboding feeling, but the deed was done. All he could do was hang back and try to avoid getting blamed.
"You're crazy," Haymaker said at last.
"Lisa," Alfred said, "give me your knife."
"Why?" Lisa said.
"Just give it to me, please."
She shrugged. She drew her knife from inside the jacket of her suit and gave it to Alfred.
Without hesitation, he cut open his palm. Milky, glowing fluid leaked out.
He showed the injury to Haymaker. "See?" Alfred said. "I'm made of angel stuff. It doesn't even hurt."
The wound closed.
After staring for a moment, Haymaker said, "That's a cute trick, but it doesn't prove anything. I don't even believe in an afterlife."
Alfred unbuttoned his shirt. He grasped the knife with both hands and thrust it into his gut. Virgil winced.
"I've been dead for fifty years," Alfred said. "Daniel Shipman has been dead for forty. He just escaped from the Eighth Circle of Hell. We have to find out how he did it and put him back where he belongs. And we need your help. You have local connections and resources. We have almost nothing, not even cell phones. We literally just came back from the grave."
He yanked out the knife and gave it to Haymaker. White, sticky fluid covered the long blade. The detective stared at it.
"He's crazy, right?" Haymaker looked to Sara.
She grimaced. "No, but he is a bit... impulsive."
"You're dead, too?"
"Twenty-two years, but I'm still a good medical examiner, I think. Of course I'm way behind on my journals. I expect a few things have changed."
Haymaker looked at Virgil.
Virgil shook his head. "I can neither confirm nor deny."
"He was a U.S. Marshal," Alfred said. "Thirty years in Limbo. Lisa was a Chicago cop when she was alive. The Lords of Heaven and Hell picked us because we're the best at what we do."
In a way, Virgil was glad Alfred had told Haymaker the secret. Alfred was correct about needing help. Haymaker had access to case files, evidence, and witnesses. He knew how things worked in the modern world. Having a real, living detective on the team would make the investigation much easier in so many ways.
"Let me have my knife back," Lisa said.
Haymaker returned her knife. She wiped it off on the grass and slipped it under her jacket.
Haymaker was maintaining a stoic exterior like a good cop, but Virgil could see the bewilderment in his eyes. Virgil hoped Haymaker wouldn't do anything rash.
"What do you say?" Alfred said. "Will you work with us?"
After a long moment, Haymaker said, "I'll need your full names and backgrounds. Even if you're dead, which I doubt, records still exist. I can check your stories. Also, tell me everything you think you know about the killer."
"Sure."
"Let's talk while we walk," Virgil said. "Standing here might attract attention."
The group got moving again. They headed back towards the crime scene.
Alfred rattled off everything he knew with the ease of a man confiding in a trusted friend. Haymaker took quick notes. Virgil avoided getting involved, and he still had a bad feeling. Lisa did the same and furthermore stayed several paces back. Sara participated minimally in the discussion.
They were passing a house where the sprinklers were running in the front lawn. Virgil had a perverse urge to play in the water like a child. He couldn't remember the last time he had had any fun. Limbo didn't even have water.
Time abruptly froze. He looked around and saw water droplets suspended in the air. Birds were caught mid-flight. Even a bumblebee was as immobile as a stone.
"Hey!" a female voice said. "Look down!"
Virgil, Alfred, Sara, and Lisa looked down at the sidewalk. Haymaker was as unresponsive as the rest of the world.
Virgil saw an image of an angel in a still puddle of water. The angel was so beautiful, he became lost in admiration. Its white gown sparkled like twinkling stars on a clear night. Giant feathered wings stretched out across a blue sky in the background.
"Barachiel," Sara said in a tone of awe.
"Alfred," the angel said, "I'm very disappointed with you."
Here it comes, Virgil thought.
"Why?" Alfred said.
"I think you know why," Barachiel said. "I told you to keep a low profile."
He cleared his throat nervously. "I didn't take out a full-page ad. I just told one man the truth."
"You gave him a revelation. You set his feet on a new path which will continue the rest of his life. He'll never forget this day."
"He could be very helpful for our mission."
"Listen carefully," Barachiel said in an angry tone. "The Celestial Contract serves many purposes, but perhaps the most important is protecting human free will. People m
ust make unbiased choices between good and evil. Otherwise, Final Judgement isn't fair. For that reason, angels and demons rarely meddle in human affairs."
"But you do meddle."
"In specific, restricted ways. We have a budget. As an official representative of Heaven, you just took a big bite out of our budget. Because of you, a saint might fail to perform a miracle. An innocent child might not recover from a deadly illness. If Detective Haymaker talks to anybody else, the cost will go up. Make sure that doesn't happen."
Alfred frowned. "Knowing the truth doesn't seem like such a bad thing."
"There is nothing more dangerous than the truth! When Einstein discovered the truth about mass and energy, it led to the atomic bomb. Some secrets are hidden even from my eyes, and I have stood before the Lord Almighty! Truth must be dispensed in small, measured doses." Barachiel sighed. "You meant well, and perhaps you didn't understand the gravity of the situation, so I will forgive you this time. Don't do it again. Sara, did you hear?"
Sara nodded timidly. "Yes."
"Virgil and Lisa, I suggest you learn the same lesson. If you step out of bounds, you'll answer to Mammon, and the Demon of Greed is much less forgiving than me. That's all."
Time abruptly return to normal. The image of Barachiel floating in the water vanished.
The group walked in silence for a moment. Virgil realized he was balancing on a tightrope. If he slipped, he would go straight back to Hell and perhaps to a worse place than Limbo. While on Earth, he had to stay completely focused on pleasing his masters down below.
"Why did it suddenly get quiet?" Haymaker said. "Did I say something wrong?"
Alfred gave him a reproachful look. "I made a mistake by telling you the truth. It would've been better to let you believe we were FBI agents."
"You were blabbing your mouth off a few seconds ago. What changed?"
"My boss just chewed me out."
"When?" Haymaker said. "I didn't see anybody."
"That's because you weren't supposed to," Alfred said. "Listen, you can't tell anybody else about us. The identity of the killer is also a secret."
"Oh? What happens if I talk?"
"The situation will get complicated. As a friend, I'm asking you not to. Please."
Virgil studied Haymaker and tried to determine if he could be trusted. The detective would instinctively want to spread the word about the killer even though the story of a man coming back from the dead was far-fetched. Haymaker was acting cooperative now, but he could change his mind. Virgil realized he had to make the same point more forcefully.
"If you talk to anybody else," Virgil said, "we will have to take aggressive action to contain the damage. Alfred is a nice guy. Lisa and I just came from Hell, and we're not so nice. Our bodies are made of hardened filth from the Plain of Fire. Don't test us."
Haymaker snorted. "That sounds like a bad lyric from a heavy metal song."
Lisa glared at him. "You think so? Watch this."
She ran over to a tree and began to climb. Grasping only the bark, she scampered up like a giant brown squirrel. Her strength and agility astonished even Virgil. He wondered if he could do the same.
When Lisa reached the top of the tree, she jumped off and landed feet-first on the pavement. He heard a horrible crunch as her legs broke. She collapsed in a heap with her legs twisted beneath her, bent in places they weren't meant to bend. The sidewalk had cracked upon impact.
She didn't seem to care. She merely used her hands to straighten her legs. The disturbing creases and bulges smoothed out in just a few seconds.
She stood up. "That was fun."
Haymaker was staring at her with an expression of horror. "Are you OK?"
"I'm fine."
Lisa demonstrated a high kick which came within inches of snapping Haymaker's nose. He drew back in surprise.
"I think the point is made," Virgil said. "Don't mess with us. If we work together, we might be able to stop Shipman before he kills again. That's our goal. Agreed?"
Haymaker nodded, but his face was still pale.
"Why don't you tell us more about yourself? You know about us now."
"OK. I'm in the Bureau of Detectives, Area 5, Chicago PD."
Virgil cocked his head. "But we're not in Chicago. This is a suburb."
"The local departments aren't equipped for a case like this. I was brought in to manage the investigation. Speaking of which, I have to get back to work. I also have to compare your stories to the historical records. I still don't believe you came back from the dead even if you can do some impossible things."
"That's fine. While you do your homework, we'll just gather supplies for our investigation. We'll need false identities and some of those magical, new phones. Do you know where we can acquire that kind of stuff?"
"Hmm." Haymaker furrowed his brow. "You have nothing, right? Not even birth certificates?"
"We came into this world with a bag of gold. We've since acquired cash, clothes, and a car. That's all."
"OK. I would try a shop in Chinatown called Li and Li's Electronics Boutique. I'm told they sell forged documentation to illegal immigrants. You can get fake ID and phones at the same time."
Virgil smiled. "That sounds perfect. Thank you."
After walking for another minute, the group arrived at the crime scene again. The crowd of curiosity seekers had grown even larger even though the corpse had been removed. Reporters were aggressively interviewing anybody in a police uniform or a suit.
"I need to supervise," Haymaker said.
"We'll just go to Chinatown," Virgil said.
Haymaker handed him a business card with a phone number. "Call me when you have your own phones."
"I will, and thank you for being so cooperative. Bye."
The four dead souls walked off towards their car together.
After going a short distance, Virgil said, "We need to watch him. I'm not sure we can trust him to keep the secret. Alfred, you need to be less impulsive. This is serious business."
Alfred ducked his head. "I just hate lies so much."
"You'll have to learn to live with them while we're on Earth." Virgil turned to Lisa. "Maybe we should dial back the crazy demonstrations. We don't really know how much punishment we can take. Those broken legs looked pretty bad."
"Relax." She grinned at him. "I knew I could pull it off."
"How? These bodies didn't come with instruction manuals."
"They came with instincts, and in our case, the instincts of demons. Can you feel it?"
Virgil nodded slowly. He was as much hell spawn as human. He felt a craving to do bad things in the most violent way possible. He wanted to fight and kill.
Chapter Four
The navigation system continued to amaze Virgil. Somehow, it had guided him through the crowded streets of Chicago without missing a turn. The little gadget lacked eyeballs, but it always knew the exact location of the car. It had even warned him about accidents ahead. He would never get lost again. He couldn't imagine how the technology worked.
Virgil had arrived in Chinatown, and he was a little disappointed. He had visited the Chinatowns in San Francisco and Los Angeles back when he had been alive, and the one in Chicago hardly compared in terms of size. The shopping area was just a couple of blocks long.
Restaurants were the most popular type of business, and all of them served varieties of Chinese food. Gift shops and beauty shops were also common. Several storefronts promised traditional medicine, and Virgil cynically wondered how many were scams. Many signs used Chinese lettering which lent an air of authenticity to the place, but most of the pedestrians were clearly tourists. He expected to see a lot of cameras, but oddly, the tourists seemed to be taking pictures with their phones instead. He was confused.
Virgil had to drive around the block several times before he finally found parking in a crowded lot. The team got out of the car. The sun was getting low in the sky, but heat still lingered in the air.
Sara retrieved the bag of
gold and cash from the trunk of the car.
She looked around and smiled. "It's so exciting to be back on Earth."
"You didn't like Heaven?" he said.
"It was pleasant enough, but there was nothing to do. Nothing ever changed."
"Could you talk to other people at least?"
"Yes," she said, "but the only thing we talked about was our past lives. We just retold the same stories over and over again. The angels were even worse. They only cared about doing their boring jobs for all eternity. It was like talking to a machine."
"Still," Virgil said, "sounds better than my existence. I had to file Hell's paperwork."
"At least you were doing something."
Virgil led Sara, Alfred, and Lisa as they searched for Li and Li's Electronics Boutique. By unspoken consent, Virgil had assumed the leadership role, probably because he had the most relevant experience. As a U.S. Marshall, he had chased every kind of criminal in the book.
They found the boutique tucked away in the back of a strip mall. The location seemed chosen to be discreet. Many kinds of electronic gadgets were displayed in the window, but Virgil didn't recognize most of the devices. Technology had come a long way since his day. The prospect of learning his way around in a new era was exciting and intimidating at the same time.
Virgil walked inside. Crowded shelves went from the floor to the ceiling. According to the labels on the packaging, the merchandise was chargers, headsets, batteries, cases, and covers for phones. He hadn't realized phones could have so many accessories. The actual phones were locked in a clear, plastic case. They were all thin, flat, and roughly rectangular. Screens covered the entire face, and the only buttons were on the side. He didn't see a big microphone or a speaker.
An Asian man stood behind the counter. He had a round face and narrow eyes. His thick black hair had started to turn gray. He was wearing a white shirt cut in a style which reminded Virgil of a Chinese movie character.
Alfred walked up to him. "Hello. Are you Mr. Li?"
Alfred was using his special voice again. The storekeeper relaxed and smiled.