Necessary Evil

by Janelle Taylor

  “You don’t want to do what I’ve told you. Good. That means we still have more teaching to do.” The Avenger touched the scalpel against Alan’s cheek and sliced down his right one. When Alan turned the other way, ignoring the pain from his ear, the blade started at his left eye and slashed to his jawbone. Every time he rotated his head, the sharp instrument severed the raised flesh. Deeper and deeper each time, until the whiteness of teeth could be seen. Blood gushed from Alan’s face and onto the carpet. “Look what a mess you’ve made. See what happens when you don’t mind? I’m not going to clean up any of this. You’ll have to lie in your own mess until the stench eats at your brain.”

  Mother used to tell him that when he had an accident. She would lock him in his closet or the basement cage for days, until the stench of his own wastes had nearly driven him insane. Until the day he had learned to hide and wash his own clothes so she wouldn’t know what he had done. Mother had never discovered that defensive secret.

  The Avenger took the gag out of Alan’s mouth and directed, “Look at me, Alan. Open those evil eyes and look at me.”

  Alan did as he was told this time because he couldn’t resist the commanding tone any longer. It’s Mother! As Alan watched with a horrified gaze, the Avenger removed a faded baggy dress. Next came large false breasts. A silver wig. Tortoiseshell glasses. Until he saw the truth. It wasn’t Mother’s ghost. He had never seen such a terrifying expression. Such glacial green eyes. Such sheer hatred. Such an ominous threat. But he had seen that face before. Where? When? How? Truth and reality dawn in his crazed mind. “I remember you. You’re—”

  “Shut up, you bastard! Tippi is dead to me because of you. You’ll die for what you did to her. Did to Glenda. Would have done to others.”

  The huge shaft was thrust into his mouth, choking him and ripping his dry lips. It isn’t Mother, his mind screamed. He wasn’t crazy. He wasn’t dreaming. Not on drugs. He was really here and this was really happening. Oh God, no! Save me from Evil.

  “That’s your own blood you taste, Alan. You forced Tippi to taste hers, didn’t you? Do you like it as much as she did? She cried, just like you’re doing, didn’t she? But you didn’t stop, did you? You kept on going until you were finished. That’s what I’m going to do.”

  The assault continued until the Avenger finally released warm fluid into Alan’s bruised and battered mouth. The gag was instantly replaced, as the killer whispered, “You can’t spit it out, Alan. That would be a very, very bad thing. Swallow it, Alan. It will nourish you. That’s what you told Glenda, so it must be what you told Tippi. You’d never lie to someone you love so much, would you?”

  Alan tried to deny to himself what was happening and what he had seen. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. Oh, God, he was raving mad. The scalpel brought his attention back to his rear as it sliced into his fleshy buttocks.

  “Lift up, Alan, I can’t quite reach them.”

  He felt the gloved hands on his balls and tried to press himself closer to the bed to hide and protect them. No way was this Mother-wanna-be going to get to those! He had saved them for Tippi to make their babies. He belonged to her and no monster was going to touch his private parts. He felt the blade continue its assault until his muscles refused to work and his testicles were gone. The Avenger’s hand was seeking his penis now. He felt fingers grasp it and squeeze until it hurt. Vomit threatened at the back of his throat. His visions blurred and he saw Mother dressed in red, smiling and waiting for him. He felt his cock being pulled between his legs until it was exposed. I hate you, Mother. I’m going to kill you before Tippi and I show the world our love. You must die for this. How can she, Alan, when she’s already dead, remember? That’s right, I forgot. He felt the edge of the blade on the head of his prick.

  “You cut Tippi’s clitoris, didn’t you? It had to be the work of the devil to have sent you into such fits. Your dick must also have been made by Satan’s own hands, because it’s driving me crazy.” The Avenger angrily cut off the tip of Alan’s penis, then continued to slash at the offending meat until there was nothing left but mutilated hunks of flesh. The needle was placed into his left elbow and the potassium chloride entered his blood stream, even though Alan was already dead. This time, the victim had died from a real heart attack and loss of blood. And shock, physical and mental.

  “Justice has been served, Alan. You were in a mental hospital for barely three years before they pronounced you healed. Healed, my ass! Anybody who’s sick enough to do what you did to Tippi and Glenda can never be healed. When I learned long ago you’d be released this month, I knew what I had to do and prepared for this moment. Were you planning on going back for her? I bet you were. You won’t ever touch her again. In her current state, she may never realize what I’ve done for her, but I know. I promised Tippi I would take care of you one day, and I enjoyed your punishment. Now, I’m free to go on with my life. I only wish she could, too, but that’s impossible. God, I wish I could torture you and kill you every day. You didn’t suffer one-millionth of what she has and will until she dies. But at least you can’t harm her or any other woman again. My work has opened many eyes to the injustices of the system. Maybe evil men like you will be stopped by others like me. I hope your Hell is worse than the darkest, vilest nightmare.”

  The Avenger gathered items used for the punishment of the final target on the list, a near matching crime to Glenda Darnell’s. Lucky for me I overheard your sister making her sleazy rendezvous plans, so I knew she wouldn’t be home until dawn. Tippi’s attack, identity, and location are safely guarded secrets. They can never be connected to Alan or his two cases: perp and vic. Those permanent precautions were taken long ago. As Tippi’s identity is safe, so is her avenger’s. A thorough shower removed blood spatters from the diver’s suit and cap. The apparel choice had prevented any head or body hairs or skin cells from falling off and being left behind as clues or evidence. The same was true for any clothing fibers. Medical gloves denied fingerprints. Booties over extra large shoes prevented accurate tracks and tread debris. All notes and records had been incinerated to simple ash. “No one knows better than me how to manipulate, delete, destroy, or misguide evidence and clues. My office and position have served me well. But from here on, it’s by the book, legal, and honest, even when a bastard’s guilty. Future perps will be left to the legal system or God’s Sword of Justice.” A thorough drying of the tub and its walls made sure that cleansing action wouldn’t be noticed later by police. The towel, old clothes, wig, “falsies”, and glasses were put away. A new letter was left for the police to ponder.

  Tears glistened the Avenger’s eyes. “I hope God can forgive me for what I’ve done, but I had no choice. Eventually, the police and media will forget about me and focus on real criminals with a vengeance. Hopefully, the public will support them in their endeavors, and someone will follow in my tracks if needed. As for you, Lieutenant Mallory, you’ll never discover who I am. You’ll go on to solve many more cases, but mine isn’t one of them. I’ve made sure of that. Get James Starr out of your face, and get that deserving woman into it. Get a life, Mallory. I’m a cold case, ice cold. Forever.”

  Tuesday morning, August 21st, 7:00 am

  Using the back door from the carport, Mory and Dan entered the bloodied room. They recoiled from the scene that greeted their eyes. None of the other victims had been mutilated to this extent. They were unprepared for the grisly sight before them. It assailed their senses. Their eyes stung. Their nostrils garnered unwanted scents from the hot and putrid air. Their tongues could almost taste the metallic blood they smelled with each breath taken. Everything they touched, even with latex gloves, made them cringe. They heard a mingling of sounds and voices. The victim’s hair had been pulled out and lay in red clumps by the edge of the bed. Between the vic’s legs, they saw the shredded tissue that had once made him a man. Mory shook and almost puked. Dan jolted and swallowed back bile. They stared at the sinister malice displayed before them.

  “Hol
y Mother of God,” Mory whispered in a hoarse tone.

  Dan couldn’t speak. In all of his years on the force, he had never encountered such a grim murder scene, not even mafia vendettas. Visions of mutilated bodies he had seen in Vietnam danced through his head. The Avenger must have been in a rage when he killed this victim. Who had this mangled man raped and tortured? Could McCleary’s victim have survived such torment? Surely not. Maybe this was the lethal case that would finally lead them to the vigilante’s motive and identity.

  “Dan, the sister is in the living room with James Starr. Maybe you should start in there,” Henrietta advised him. “Harold and I have lots of work to do in here.”

  “Maybe I should,” Dan commented and walked away as if in a trance.

  When he reached the living room, he halted when he saw Starr talking in a low voice to a woman with auburn hair. She had her back to him, but she didn’t appear to be upset or crying. Something about her was strikingly familiar.

  “I’m the lieutenant in charge of this investigation. I’d like to know—”

  “Her name is Tracy McCleary Daniels, Mallory. She’s the sister of the deceased. Her brother has been living here since his recent release from the state hospital,” James answered the unspoken question, as the sister turned and faced him.

  Dan’s face registered his shock, but he recovered quickly before responding, “I was talking to the lady, Starr, not you. And I think she’s quite capable of speaking for herself. Besides, Tracy and I know each other,” Dan murmured as he looked at the woman who had been keying the vital information into the computer for his suspects list. “What are you doing here, Starr? Another mystery call from your SI or the Avenger?”

  “I called him, Dan,” Tracy answered. “The paper offered five thousand dollars to anyone who had information about the Avenger. After what I’ve learned in the news, saw in there, and learned from the investigation, I was sure the Avenger had killed my brother. I called Starr before I called the police. He needs a scoop and I need the money. Neither of us tampered with the crime scene, I swear. After I got home, I opened his door, and saw...you’ve seen what I saw, so I closed the door. Any questions you want to ask me, you can ask in front of him or I’ll refuse to answer.”

  Dan grimaced. This was going to be difficult enough without having the details headlined in the papers. At least the TV cameras hadn’t arrived, and would be kept away when they did. The Captain or DA. was going to have to deal with this press conference and release, as usual lately. He had no choice but to partially interrogate the sister now. As soon as he had some needed facts, he’d have her taken to the precinct until he could leave and do an in-depth questioning in private. “Well, Tracy, since you’ve become so knowledgeable about the Avenger, can you tell me why he chose your brother?”

  “Because he was mean as a snake. He claimed our mother had tortured and abused him while he was a boy, so he raped and tortured a girl one evening. He was sent to a mental institution for three years after pleading insanity. Alan claimed he couldn’t help himself after Glenda Darnell, that’s the girl’s name, said some of the same things that Mom had said to him. He wasn’t crazy, just evil, because I never saw my mother touch him. There was never, and I repeat, never, any abuse of any kind, physical or otherwise while I was living at home. I spent years away at a private school and then college, but I was home for holidays and breaks. I never saw any signs of abuse, so I know he lied about it. He mutilated a young beautiful girl, then claimed an insanity plea.”

  “Sounds as if you didn’t like your brother too much.”

  “I loathed him for a lot of reasons: the horrible lies he told about Mom, for the evil things he did, and for that poor girl he nearly killed.”

  “Then, why did you let him stay with you if you hated him so much?”

  “Because Mom made me promise on her death bed to take care of him. She had a heart attack after Alan was exposed and she died two years ago. I’m the only one left in our family. The doctors notified me when he was to be released and I contacted the authorities. If he even budged from that straight line he had to walk, I was going to send him back to the hospital. When they told me last spring he was better and would probably be released by summer’s end, I didn’t believe them. He should have been fried in the electric chair for what he did to that girl. I tried to keep them from releasing him in the first place. Not for his safety, but because I feared for other women’s. They said he would be fine as long as he stayed on his meds and saw a therapist routinely. I feared Alan might try to contact the Darnell family, so I called to warn them. That’s when I was told Glenda had committed suicide after the bandages were removed from her face.”

  “Why did you allow Alan to move into your home?” Dan asked. “Why not put him in an apartment or halfway house?”

  “I wanted to keep an eye on him, so I could report any changes to his doctor and have him re-committed before he hurt anyone else.” Tracy’s eyes blazed with anger and resentment as she spoke with Dan. “Since he was my brother, I felt partly responsible for keeping other women safe from him.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about him and add him to the list we made?”

  “I was ashamed he was kin to me and he was still locked away at that time. Besides, you were concentrating on crimes that occurred two to three years ago. Alan attacked Glenda Darnell four years ago. It took a long time for that scandal to quiet down, so I didn’t want to dredge it up again. I suppose I’ll have to move away this time to get any peace. I’m sorry I kept him a secret from you, Dan, but I’m not sorry he’s dead, as terrible as that sounds. Just look in there and see what he did to Glenda. From Mr. Starr’s articles and our computer data, we all know the Avenger matches his victim’s crime.”

  Dan looked at Starr, who lifted his tape recorder and smiled. Damn, this was not going well. Dan groaned inwardly at the damage that could be done when the paper hit the stands tomorrow and TV stations did news reports. Bad as it was, the escalation of violence in Iraq and Kuwait had held the media captive with the birth of the Gulf War and the U.N.S.C.’s response to it. Added to that bad news was the Armenian terrorist attack on a passenger bus, causing many deaths and injuries. Now, this new murder would focus the main attention back on Augusta. At least the average citizen wasn’t afraid of their local threat, their local “hero”.

  Tracy continued, “I certainly didn’t expect to find this mess when I returned home at six this morning from...my sleepover last night. If I’d known what I was walking into, I wouldn’t have sent my friend on his way before I came inside.”

  “You didn’t see or hear anything suspicious before you came in?’

  “No, Dan, I didn’t. It was dark and quiet. I hoped he was in bed asleep, full of his meds.”

  “You weren’t afraid of him?”

  “For some reason I don’t understand and can’t explain, no, Dan, I wasn’t. But I did keep my bedroom door locked and a pistol nearby. I was planning to force the authorities to move him elsewhere. I just didn’t want him near me or my friends.”

  Dan asked a few more questions, then said, “That’s all for now. Thanks for your time and cooperation. You realize you can’t stay here; it’s an active crime scene. Give Mory your cell phone number. I’ll call you later from the station if I think of anything else.”

  “At least I can get on with my life now, knowing my brother has been stopped from ever harming anybody else. Do you want me off the case?”

  “I’ll let you know after I think it over. You and Starr should leave now.”

  “I’ve already given Harold samples to exclude mine from here. He said they already have Mr. Starr’s on file.”

  Dan looked at the recorder. Still playing. Shit! And Tracy—a redhead and sibling—was too calm in the face and scent of such gore to suit him. She also appeared to be mighty close to that frigging reporter! Was she the new leak at the station, Roland’s replacement? Had he unknowingly handed Starr his ticket to this case? He turned and strode towards
the bedroom where the medical examiner was working on the body, and Harold was collecting and photographing evidence. He nodded at Harold and his CSI team. “Find anything for me, Henri?”

  “If this is similar to what he did to his victim, I don’t think she could have survived the attack.”

  “She did, but committed suicide afterwards.”

  “Oh, my,” Henrietta murmured. “He does have the same injection sight on his inner elbow, but he may have been dead from blood loss and shock before the needle entered his skin. His ear was cut off. It’s lying over there,” she said and pointed toward the window. “He was beaten with something, probably a belt, from the type of marks on his back and legs. He’s been cut on almost every available location of flesh. His penis... it’s been mutilated. If skin wasn’t still attached in places, it would probably be almost unrecognizable in all of those chunks. Best I can tell, TOD was twelve to twenty hours ago. I’ve got something else for you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A note. This one’s different. Sounds like a retirement letter. It’s calling for others to take over the battle for justice for him.”

  Dan scowled, then read the note;

  As the Bible commands in Exodus 21 and Deuteronomy 32:

  “If men strive and hurt a woman... He shall be punished...

  Life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand,

  Foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound,

  Stripe for stripe.”

  “To me belongeth vengeance and recompense;

  their foot shall slide in time:

  for the day of their calamity is at hand...”

  With my life near o’re , also my good deeds.

  Friends and victims, you must take the lead.

  It’s time for more Avengers to step forth and fight;

  Make Beasts experience terror, then remove them from sight.

  If Justice is blind or her hands be bound,

  Then you, good citizens, must retake your town.