Perfect Sinners

by Rick Murcer

  “I got it Ellie. We’ll have this thing recorded from my first breath until the final marker hits the screen.”

  He plucked the sample from her hand and stuck it deep into his blue lab coat. “Thank you. And you really do need to take Beaux out for a walk.”

  “Careful with that, and I know.”

  “See ya in about 118 minutes.”

  He disappeared through the glass door so fast he could have been a ghost.

  Ellen stripped the gloves from her hands and followed suit, turning left via another door where Beaux was in a sitting position, waiting for her.

  His look reminded her of when she had been in high school and then college and come home late. Big Harv would be sitting on the couch, pretending to be watching some movie. They both knew why he was still up, but they’d played the game anyway. He’d pat her on the shoulder then tell her it was bedtime, relieved that his daughter was home safely.

  Beaux wasn’t really playing any game though. He was glad to see her. Period.

  “Okay, Buddy. Thanks for being patient. Let’s take you out for a walk then we’ll get our butts back to work,” she said, ruffling his neck.

  Five minutes later, they were standing on the side of the building, near the three short trees in the small garden adjacent to the forensic building. He walked behind her as she once more took in the moon, it’s blueish light bathing her city’s skyline in an almost surreal glow. The view took her mind away from the intensity of the investigation, if only for a while. But moments like these were worth the effort they demanded to appreciate them. She did.

  Beaux brushed up against her leg telling her he was ready to go back inside just as her phone rang. So much for the moment.

  It was Big Harv.

  “Hey Dad.”

  “Hey Ellie.”

  She stiffened. “What’s wrong?”

  “That obvious?”

  “It is, Dad. What?”

  “It’s Joel,” he said quietly.

  Her chest was pounding. “What about him?”

  There was a small sigh. “There’s no easy way to say this. He’s dead, Ellie.”

  CHAPTER-35

  “You are as lovely as ever.”

  She curtsied and smiled the most radiant smile she could muster. “Why thank you, Councilman Tuor. You are looking as stunning as ever yourself,” she lied.

  The man-made Godzilla looked like a runway model, but he did have connections and came from old money. Two out of three ain’t bad.

  He ran his spotted hand over his gray unibrow and then over his bald, craggy head. “Well, we both know I’m not that pretty, but thank you for saying so.”

  She looped her hand through his arm and pecked him on the cheek. “Beauty is always in the eyes of the beholder, as they say. You’ll have to beat the single women off with a stick before the night is over, trust me.”

  He nodded. “I don’t suppose you’ll be one of them.”

  She winked as she moved away. “One never knows, sir. One never knows.”

  But she did know. Wondering if she’ll be anywhere near him as the evening unfolded would be the last of his problems. The very last.

  After entering the massive foyer, she then entered the dining room that could have easily fit some medieval castles within, all the while looking for the Councilwoman. Her eyes took in every detail of the room, including those people she’d come to count on. Her people.

  They were doing what they were instructed to do and had spread evenly throughout the room. They looked natural doing it too. They were laughing and engaged in conversations that looked meaningful. That would be important when the time came to take this congregation to its expected climax.

  “More champagne, Ma’am?”

  The thin waiter who had strolled up to her right offered her a stemmed glass of golden liquid and she accepted.

  “Thank you.”

  “Always my pleasure.” Then he moved off to the next guest, walking stiffly.

  Good service was always appreciated and she did like this vintage. The aroma was one of her favorite. But as usual, there was always much more to the night’s story.

  If only the waiter knew what was in store tonight for him and the rest of this blue-blood gathering. She doubted he’d be able to keep his bladder under control.

  The gold coin was suddenly evident in its resting place between her breasts. She touched it and smiled, pushing it back to a dark hiding place. The coin, her other partner over the years, was almost as eager as she to get on with the evening’s activities.

  A moment later, she located Calista Forest and began the slow, deliberate journey to her corner of the room.

  Months of planning had come down to this. The drug dance and take over. The political contributions. The parties, both private and public. And, of course the deaths of all those people. Even the cases over the last few months the police had really, for all intents and purposes, stopped working because of the upswing of crime in the last few weeks and days. Case overload forced a bias prioritization that, so far, had worked in her favor. Then again, planning every detail and for every contingency had its advantages. No one did that better than she.

  The sound of her two-inch heels hitting the hardwood floor echoed softly as she approached the Councilwoman and her entourage.

  It was almost time and she was ready. It seemed she’d always been ready. Her lifetime wait was virtually over.

  The object of her communication was talking with a tall man in a black tux when she approached her from behind. She leaned toward her ear and whispered. “Hello, Calista Forest.”

  CHAPTER-36

  There were times when they had been together, that they had engaged in conversations every married couple discusses. Things like what do we name our kids? Where do we choose to live? Do we get a dog or cat or both? But the most mind-challenging question they had asked each other is what would you do if I died? If I went first, would you ever marry again? Would you ever be normal? Would you forget me?

  Ellen remembered the night she and Joel had discussed that. It had been on their first anniversary and they’d probably had too much wine to make sound answers to such questions and just enough to respond honestly.

  There had been traces of horror dancing in her mind when the idea that someone you loved so deeply could forget you. No one wanted to be forgotten. That would make us even more mortal. She’d even joked about coming back from the grave if he didn’t come to see her in the cemetery at least once a week. He’d laughed and told her not to worry. Men had a way bigger chance of dying before their spouses. That she was safe. And, then of course, the best answer of all. That she was unforgettable. That if something happened to her first he’d probably become a monk because there wasn’t anyone on the planet that could replace her.

  The lovemaking that night had been the best they’d ever had. Her importance in his life had been the most amazing aphrodisiac.

  None of that mattered now. His shitty way of leaving her had drowned out any thoughts of that once enchanting pedestal he’d enjoyed.

  Instead, she stood outside the rundown apartment complex, the night air nipping at her ears and nose, staring at the front entrance guarded with yellow crime tape and two burly blues. Her thoughts far more concerned, now, with what had happened than their past married life. Still, he was her ex, if that truly meant anything.

  Brice and Bella were talking to a small group of men and women near the ambulance. Its red lights flashed to an unintentional beat. A rhythm she had seen too many times in her life. She couldn’t help to wonder why Brice and Bella would talk to people in a group like that. Maybe they were renters from the building. Joel had always been a little shy so being part of a group had never really been something he’d enjoyed. At this point, it didn’t matter what she thought. They were great detectives and had their reasons.

  After another moment of staring at the sidewalk, she stole a quick glimpse toward the front door of the building, wondering if she should go in. Sh
e only had to flash her badge and she’d be inside. That wasn’t the real question though, was it? She could handle blood and guts and beer, but how about when it was someone she’d lived with for almost ten years? Someone she’d once loved.

  Seeing her partner’s, Oscar’s, ravaged body had been one of the worst things she’d experienced, yet she’d done it. And she had cared for him. Not really true with Joel.

  A line from an old song came to her.

  If you loved someone, didn’t you always love them?

  Maybe. But love can dissolve, given ample reason. She and he were a living example of that. At any rate, what she now felt for Joel wasn’t love so much as compassion. Yes, she’d known him for years, but they weren’t in each other’s lives. They had become estranged on every level. The man she’d met and fell in love with was long gone. That brought a tinge of sadness. Then the sadness was gone. Love lost, that was all.

  With one more push, the last remnants of positive emotion she’d carried for Joel submerged into her private persona and she stepped fully into Ellen Harper, FT and CSU investigator.

  As she reached for the crime scene kit sitting at her feet, there was a touch at the elbow of her leather jacket.

  “Do you need a hug?”

  She smiled. “Sure.”

  He gathered her in his arms and Ellen liked how it felt even at her age. It was good to have a little protection from the Boogey Man. That’s what dads do.

  Her emotion rose. Maybe she wasn’t quite ready to march in that apartment after all.

  “I’m sorry I had to tell you that way, Ellie. I knew you’d not let me off until I did,” said Big Harv, his gravelly voice as soft as she could recall.

  “It’s okay, Dad. I’m glad you did. It gave me time to digest what had happened. I’m good.”

  Big Harv released her and stepped back. “Yeah, I knew you would be. But I don’t get to hug you that much.”

  She reached over and kissed him on the cheek. “You can hug me anytime you want, Old Man.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  “You’re welcome. So, what happened? Is this like the others?”

  “Like I told you on the phone. It could be. Obviously, this is the young woman’s apartment. A Cheryl Jackson. It looks like all three were killed here. So that might be different than the other four. But that’s a job for the CPD to figure out, not a private dick.”

  Murders in twos were rare, even in Chicago. Never mind in threes.

  She grabbed a big breath. “I know. But everyone still respects what you think.”

  “Maybe. I’m just not official anymore.”

  “That doesn’t mean you don’t know what the hell’s going on. Does anyone know why he was here?”

  “I can answer that for you, officer.”

  Ellen turned to see an older gentleman with silver hair standing a few feet away. There was no ignoring the air of authority surrounding him. Some people commanded attention, and he was one. Even in the veiled light from the street and building lights, she could tell that much.

  He was flanked by two younger men, both with their hands crossed in front of them in a semi-submissive pose.

  Just then, finished with their group interview, Brice and Bella walked to her and stood to her left.

  The thinner of the two younger men had bloodstains on the front of his tan jacket. She suspected he was the one who found the bodies.

  “Wait. Before you hear what he has to say, I have to know if you’re thinking of working this crime scene,” asked Brice, his hand on her bicep.

  She began to answer, then stopped.

  Of course she wanted to work this one. But there was no avoiding the elephant in the room. That was her ex’s body lying in that apartment.

  Her department also had a couple rules she had to consider. One was not to overload anyone, including her, with too much fieldwork. Lab tests and case reviews were one thing. Spending hours at a scene was another. It was far more exhausting than most people believed. Not to mention the possible emotional reactions that could cause her to make errors in processing, even if they had been divorced.

  Staring at the black kit at her feet, she ran the situation over in her mind one more time, then made her decision.

  “No, I’m not going to work it. I’ll put my ego aside and get Marci’s team to do it. If these murders are related, and who doesn’t think they are, then the investigation needs to be consistent. And she was first on scene for the other two. I can help in the lab and review their work.”

  “I think that’s a good call Ellie. All the way around. You might make top management yet,” said Bella, smiling.

  “I don’t want that kind of job, and what else can I do? Besides, I need to hear what this man has to say. I can’t do that inside.”

  “Another good call,” Bella answered.

  Ellen looked back to the older man. “Okay, I’m all ears.”

  The man moved within touching distance of her. “Most people refer to me as The Father. I work for God. I do what He tells me, the best I can, and together we change lives.”

  “That’s noble, I mean, really, but what does that have to do with this, Father?”

  “Well, my child, that help isn’t the kind of help associated with helping old ladies and dogs across a busy Chicago street. We go far deeper. We help rehabilitate addicts who have decided it’s time to make a change that can’t be made on their own. We help those who are at their very wit’s end.”

  “So Joel was helping you with this?” she asked, feeling a little uneasy.

  “Not exactly.”

  His piercing blues eyes had her complete attention, even in the semi-light.

  “He came to me today because he was addicted to heroin. He wanted to get clean.”

  “What? Joel? Addicted to heroin? The man hated the idea of pain pills and cold medicine. He was squeamish when he had to get a shot. You have the wrong guy.”

  Those eyes stayed on her. “I’ve seen your reaction a thousand times or more from loved ones and friends. I assure you, FT Harper, Joel did come to meet with me today. His demonic addiction had rendered him virtually helpless. He’d hit rock bottom. Something most of us do before we have the courage to ask for help.”

  His words rang true, even as much as she wanted to deny any truth in them. Denial wasn’t something she was unfamiliar with, but there was no real doubt in what The Father had said. She felt that much.

  Ellen rubbed her face with both hands. How many nights had she sat on her couch with Mulder purring away in her lap and a bottle of rum in her hand wishing every plague that had smacked Egypt around, and a few more things, would happen to Joel? She’d wanted his dick to fall off. His life to go straight to hell like Ellen’s had. To feel true pain on every level. She’d even tried to help that process along at their last meeting in the liquor store.

  Yet, she never thought of him as someone out of control, especially an addict. Everyone has something, but his mental complexion didn’t seem to add up to that one.

  “I never suspected that from him. Although we hadn’t had much contact over the last year, so how would I really know?”

  “As you’ve no doubt thought, circumstance and regret can change someone, drastically.”

  The man stepped even closer to her. There was a sadness in those eyes she hadn’t noticed before. She suddenly realized he was the real deal. He cared for the folks he wanted to help. Truly cared.

  “Obviously, I know of your past with Joel. More often than not, I don’t have the opportunity to meet who my children have offended. He told me, FT Harper, that he was going to be a better man. And that he was going to do what was necessary to right the worst wrong in his life. He wanted you to think well of him, if you could find it in your heart.”

  Ellen shifted her weight, fighting tears.

  Now he wanted to set things right?

  “He knew it would be difficult if not impossible to get your forgiveness, but he was going to try. I want you to know that.”
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  The tears found their path. She turned away and walked toward her white van and stopped, staring at her boots.

  Forgiveness was such a hypocritical word. People said it all of the time, then hung on to the very situation or perceived wrong like a child clutching their special blanket. It was as if they didn’t think they could function without the bitterness and hate. She understood. She had done the same thing. Still was on some levels. It had gotten worse for her, initially, because her anger was different than internalized bitterness. She’d hit people and said things that she wanted to take back before the words had died in the air, lashing out instead of keeping the anger in. She’d drank too much and fueled her own lack of self-esteem in a hundred other ways.

  All of that made the idea of forgiving Joel for what he’d done right up there with walking on the sun.

  But now, hearing what The Father had said, that walk didn’t seem so far-fetched. Everyone made mistakes and only God knew where she would be if people hadn’t forgiven her. Big Harv. Bella. Oscar. Aaron. And even Brice, to an extent.

  They had all helped her to change, to come around to a different purpose. She wasn’t totally there and maybe never would make it completely, but she was beginning to understand that loving someone was a more comforting blanket than bitterness and hate. Even if those things were deserved.

  Shit. Could there be a worse time for some damned epiphany? She wiped at her eyes. Then again, maybe this was the best time.

  It took a few moments to build up her internal steel, then she went back to where The Father stood.

  “Thank you. I’ll need more time to sort that out, but it’s good to know just the same.”

  He nodded, an electric smile accenting his rugged face. “Life is filled with steps and choices, Ellen Harper. I pray you’ll find the wisdom to make the right ones.”

  “Me too.”

  The Father placed his hand on his companion with the blood on his jacket. “Now. I know you people have work to do, but Henry has information to share with you and I must get back to my people. We’ve lost enough of them today.”