A killer is on the loose; can Detective Kelsey stop him?
I straddle you, my weight bears down on your stomach, and my knees presses into your arms, my hands are wrapped around your throat. Cinching tighter and tighter, I feel your life begin to recede away, your eyes bulge, and you thrash, you try to buck me off, but I outweigh you by almost a hundred pounds. As I pull tighter still, I see the truth in your eyes. I see the reality sinking into you. There is mortality, there is death, and that death is me. You realize these things as your fighting spirit weakens, weakens, and finally leaves you. I can hear you trying to draw breath through a constricted throat, so I clamp down even harder, and feel something break under my powerful hands. Whatever snapped, ended you just as efficiently, and you go limp. Slowly I ease my hands away from your neck, my fingers cramping, my palms aching. I stand; looking at the redness surrounding your throat, see your bulging eyes, the perpetual look of both surprise and horror that you’d just been murdered. It is no small wonder that I am aroused.
Slowly I begin the final task that will ease your burdened soul. I light the candles, strip first myself, then you, I caress your breasts fondly, kissing each nipple in turn. I consider the dirty area between your thighs, and blush, knowing that the secrets contained within that hairy thatch are of the devil and only sinners consider what is inside to be of any use. Mother conveyed to me the evils of the flesh, the evils of sex, and the evils of desire. It is my mission from God himself to pass that message along to each and every woman that is chosen by His almighty grace and omniscience. I lift your empty body and carry you into the bathroom. Gently I ease you into the tub and turn on the hot water. Only the hottest water can cleanse you, can eradicate the sins of your flesh. As the tub fills, I close the shower curtain, stare at it a moment, say a little prayer, and yank it open. I begin to wash your body, remembering the sharpness of the scissors as it cut into my young adolescent flesh. I looked down at my own member, the scars twisting around its shaft and remember the lessons mother taught me with love, lust, and discipline. It was that very reason she was the first to be chosen, she did not understand that her death was heralded from a much higher plane than this one, and she went into her final slumber with much fighting. I bore that scar across my breast as a reminder of how easily the purifier can become the purified. I knew caution was elemental in being successful in my actions. I also knew that my own end was foretold to me some many years ago. A man shrouded in darkness and shadow would be my demise. He would ease the burdens of this life from my weary soul, and I would go into that death with gladness because I knew that when he ended me, I too would end his burdens, and ease him from this life.
*************************************
Someone was jabbing me. I tried to ignore it, slouched down in my chair, my hat falling further down on my face, my coat riding up. I didn’t care; my head was throbbing and pounding. The fifth of whiskey that seemed like a great idea last night was cheerfully reminding me why it wasn’t.
‘Kelsey if you don’t take this goddamn cup of coffee, I’ll happily pour it on you. The results will be the same either way.’
‘Any ever tell you that you’re a real son of a bitch first thing in the morning?’ I asked moodily, sitting up, pushing the fedora back on my hair.
‘Yeah, my wife, every morning; here’s your damn coffee, look sharp, Ortiz is ragging today, and I hear he’s got your name on his shit list.’
‘What’d I do today?’ I asked peering into a desk drawer near at hand, hoping for a bottle of something, anything that would ease this headache.
‘Oh, I don’t know… how about we start off with that little brouhaha last night at the Coconut Lounge? I mean, Jesus K, it was supposed to be O’Toole’s retirement bash, but you turned it into a…’
‘Bar fight, yeah, I know.’ I answered, shaking a near empty bottle of Excedrin. ‘But you have to admit, there was nobody more surprised than that wetback when a girl kicked his ass.’
‘See, that’s another thing; in case you didn’t notice, I’m a Mexican, and really don’t like hearing shit like wetback, or whatever little racist term you dream up on the fly. I mean, seriously leave all that Nazi garbage at home, what do you say?’
‘I say it’s high time I find a new partner, one that’s not such a whiny bitch.’ I snarled. ‘Look Martinez, you may not like the way I do things, but I do them by the book, and I get results.’
‘Bullshit.’ When’s the last time you cleared a case?’
‘Uh, the Beverly Denson murder, how’s that?’ I asked, chewing two of the small, bitter white tablets, and swigging from the cup of black coffee, equally bitter.
‘That was two months ago, chief. In case you didn’t notice, those manila file folders stacking up on your desk are cases too.’
‘Cases that I’ve been working buddy, look, let’s cut to the chase and get to the real reason you don’t like me. It’s because I’m a girl, a girl that can kick some major ass, and I’m not into the whole slap and tickle office bull. I got to where I am because of my hard work, not because of these…’ I said pushing my tits up. I leveled a finger at my partner. ‘Another reason you don’t like me is because your little ‘La Raza’ bullshit you had going on with Dominguez got quashed by the Chief of D’s, and that just puts your tampon string all in an uproar. You don’t like me because I replaced your partner, the one who would cover your back when you were out getting blowjobs from dirty ass hookers, I won’t cover for you when you take a kickback, you don’t like me because I won’t jump into the sack with you.’
‘You lying bitch!’ Martinez shouted, clearing the desk.
I was ready for him, splitting headache or not. I sidestepped his clumsy charge, and slammed my hand into the back of his head sending him sprawling to the floor. I put my foot into his back, pushing him back down, preventing him from getting up. I squatted down near him, grabbing a handful of hair.
‘Look here chico, I’ve got issues, you’ve got issues, what do you say we just pretend everything is peachy, and play nice? Hmmm, what do you say?’
‘Go to hell bitch.’ My partner spat, pushing me off him.
‘I don’t care who started it, I don’t care what it’s about, knock it off!’ Lieutenant Ortiz shouted, pushing a few curious onlookers out of the way. ‘Jesus you two, I know there’s animosity, but cut the shit. I’ve got Sullivan breathing down my neck, talking about what a boys club homicide is, so I don’t need any bullshit from a skirt.’ He eyed me, daring me to take up offense to the comment. ‘Do we have an understanding ladies and gentlemen?’
‘Yeah LT we get it.’ My partner and I answered mutely in unison.
‘Good, we got a new case, a priority coming in from downtown and you two clowns get to handle it. Think you can actually do some cop shit without going at one another?’ He asked, snapping his fingers. Yuri Baranov, his personal assistant, mousy, thick glasses and accent, was immediately there handing the lieutenant a fat manila folder. The lieutenant handed it to me, pointing his finger at both of us again. ‘I mean it, no more grab ass, do this right, or it’ll be all of our asses, we got an understanding?’
‘Yeah, LT we get it. We’ll hug and make up, play nice.’ I responded eying Martinez, who just nodded, wiping his mouth as he stood.
The lieutenant didn’t say anything as he turned his back, merely staring at the small crowd surrounding us. Everyone realized they had work to do, and the crowd dissipated. Yuri followed Ortiz back to wherever they’d come from, and I eyed my partner a moment before adjusting my fedora and taking up the coffee.
‘Well, I’ll say this about you; you Mexicans can make a mean cup of Joe.’ I dropped him a sardonic wink as I sat back down. Martinez glared at me a moment before taking his own seat across from me.
‘What did the LT drop in our laps?’ Martinez asked, shooting for neutral but missed it by a wide margin.
‘A nasty looking serial…’ I said, clearing my desk, stacking crime scene photos in front of me. ‘Or what they suspect is a serial, they’re having a hard time connecting the cases and the feebs aren’t interested in maybes and probably; they want hard facts and hard evidence before they send one of their brains down this way.’ I said, looking at the stack of pictures. All they do know for certain is this perp is targeting young women twenty-five to thirty-six, mostly Caucasian, one Hispanic and one black just for diversities sake. Problem they’re having is they can’t seem to find a pattern other than these girls were strangled and ritualistically cleansed.’
‘Where’s this coming from?’ Martinez asked, meaning which division handled the case before us.
‘That’s the other thing,’ I said flipping through neatly printed reports. ‘They’re from the 1-5, the 2-6, and the 7-7, with three of them concentrating on the 1-5.’ I read a preliminary report from the coroner; it chilled me to the bone. ‘Whoever this guy is, he’s big and strong. The report says there were no drugs outside the recreational variety in their system. Coroner says these girls were overpowered, and had their throats crushed by a man with some very big and very strong hands.’ I flipped through another report, then another. ‘I don’t know how they can’t connect these.’ I said seeing a connection right away.
‘Why?’ Martinez said flipping through some reports, and eying me. ‘What did they miss?’
‘Body type is the same, hair is all blonde. Each and every one of them is blonde, dyed or not, each girl was around the five seven mark, and each girl was a hooker.’
‘So? Dead hookers are like pennies. Walk around enough and you’ll stumble over a few.’ Martinez answered.
‘I’m sure you’ve got experience in dead hookers…’ I retorted, staring at him from over the top of the page I was reading. He merely flipped me off in response, and I blew him a mock kiss.
‘Look sharp, the LT is headed this way again.’ Martinez whispered, flipping the pages of a report.
‘Hey kids, guess what? A jogger just found another victim, out on the bluff. Go ahead ride out there and see if it fits our M.O.’ He said dropping a thin report on my desk, and turning away.
*************************************
I stood in the bushes, watching the scene unfold. I knew from my visions that I had to wait here, wait in this spot for the next one. I was uncomfortable being out in public, I didn’t like being exposed. However, it was whispered to me to wait, to be patient, that I would be rewarded handsomely for that patience. I was instructed where to drop her, and when, then told that I just had to wait, and an answer would seek me. I shifted from foot to foot, my discomfort growing by the minute. I could hear mother’s cruel laughter in my ears, her doubtful words raining down. I pushed that aside and focused on the scene that was starting to unfold in front of me. I saw a cop, young looking, brunette squat near where I left her, checking for vital signs, but I knew that she wouldn’t find any. I almost jumped and took her, but held off, something was gnawing at me, telling me to wait, just wait a little longer and the true answer would present itself.
I stood in the shadows, away from prying eyes, out of the sunlight waiting for two hours before she walked into my life. Right away I knew she was the one. She would be next. I could smell the iniquity on her from this distance; I knew that she was a hotbed of sin. I knew… She was young, but not too young, in her thirties, blonde hair pulled up haphazardly, stuffed under the ridiculous brim of a worn brown fedora, she wore a suit, slim in the waist, trim at the ankles, broad at the shoulder. The way she carried herself, the way she indifferently pushed her pink tie aside as she knelt by my latest masterpiece, the way she gently touched the young girl’s cheek with a gloved hand gave me a charge. There was a moment of fear when she looked directly where I was standing and I almost bolted, but knew that she would never be able to see me; I was protected with divinity. I knew I had some work ahead of me, knew that I had to find out who she was, but knew that finding that wouldn’t be too troubling. I felt myself become aroused, felt the spit in my mouth increase, and knew that she would be mine. Yes, she would be mine. I smiled, and eased away from the scene to my waiting car nearby. In time, she would be mine. With this mantra I drove home.
*************************************
Kneeling over the girl I felt chill, felt eyes on me. I looked up casually, pulling my glasses down, ignoring the sunlight that jabbed into my eyes, surveying the crowd of curious onlookers. No one in the crowd seemed particularly interested in me; they were all staring at the white sheeted form at my feet. I stood and beckoned a young uniformed officer over. He came at a trot; hand on his Sam Browne belt.
‘Yeah detective something you need?’
‘Yeah, I need this crowd pushed back, or do you enjoy fucking up a crime scene?’ I asked, my headache flaring briefly. I hoped this kid wasn’t into arguing, I wasn’t in the mood. Instead, his eyes got big, and looked genuinely afraid. He nodded, and trotted back over to another uniformed cop standing near the cordon. The conferred a moment before starting to push the crowd back. They went moodily, but silently.
‘Making new friends?’ Martinez asked, sauntering up behind me. It took all I had not to round on him, and lay him out. The lazy bastard had been lounging in the cruiser in the A/C.
‘Well, some of us actually enjoy doing this detective shit.’ I said, pushing my sunglasses back up on my face.
‘Relax K, I come in peace.’ He said holding his hands up. ‘I was just on the phone with Ortiz, and ten dollars says this isn’t one of our girls.’
‘I don’t know…’ I answered tersely. ‘Earlier when I was checking her, I felt someone staring at me; it gave me the creeps…’ I peeled the white latex gloves off my hands and stared at my partner. ‘Something tells me that he left her here just to watch this little circus unfold.’
‘Oh? What, you psychic now too, is that it?’ Martinez asked sarcastically.
‘No, but answer me this. Why would our perp go to such extremes to keep the discovery of the bodies as private as possible, but then dump this one out here in such a public place? He wanted us to find her.’
‘Yeah, well in case you didn’t hear me, the LT says this ain’t one of ours, says it’s just another dead hooker.’ Martinez argued.
‘Come here genius; let me show you some of my amazing detecting abilities.’ I said, crouching near the form on the ground. I pulled the sheet back partially, not touching her, not wanting to don another pair of gloves. ‘Look at her neck. It’s the same pattern as the pictures, even without the coroner’s report, I’m willing to bet that she wasn’t drugged, and I’m willing to bet that the son of a bitch that did this is seriously big and strong.’ I dropped the sheet. ‘And I smelled a lavender soap. Someone cleaned her before dropping her. I learned a long time ago that when it comes to murder, there are no coincidences.’ I stood up.
‘Well, maybe there is this time?’ Martinez asked, shrugging.
‘I swear you get dumber and dumber the longer I know you… Jesus, don’t you have any instincts left? Or did you wash them all away during your tour of vice?’
‘Well, whatever, LT says to drop this until the coroner confirms her as one of ours.’ Martinez said, shrugging and walking away.
‘I’m not dropping it because you and Ortiz are fucking idiots.’ I snarled following my partner. ‘She is victim number ten, of that I am almost certain.’
‘Whatever Kelsey, you got a gripe; take it up with the lieutenant.’ Martinez answered, not facing me.
*************************************
Two weeks I’ve had to wait, two long weeks. I woke this morning refreshed, alive and eager to face the day. I knew the time had come for the bait to be lured to me. I knew that time had come to cleanse another soul, and I knew just how to do it. Standing in the bathroom nude, I smiled at my reflection, which smiled back. Yes indeed, I knew just what to do.
*************************************
‘Come on Kelsey, we got a tip we need to follow up on.’ Martinez said getting up from his desk, grabbing his jacket. I was glad to be doing something besides chasing phony leads, or taking calls from crazies claiming to know what was going on. I jumped to my feet, tucking a notepad into the inner pocket of my jacket. I paused, and grabbed my fedora, pushing my lanky blonde hair underneath it.
‘They sure it’s legit this time and not another crank?’ I asked.
‘Said the guy had some pretty handy information, said he saw the last body drop, gave us a description of the car, and the guy.’ Martinez shrugged, not caring, just wanting to get out into the world, and feel pavement move under him. I could relate. Anything beat sitting at a desk answering phones, re-writing reports for the millionth time, drinking sour coffee, and getting on one another’s nerves.
We pulled up to the corner of the dilapidated house, once white, now a non-color, somewhere between gray and dingy. The remains of white paint was peeling away in sections and the gutters all hung askew, windows were boarded up, and the narrow driveway running the distance of the house had weeds growing in the cracks of the cement pathway, a battered green trashcan was laying in the gutter against the leaning mailbox. Right away something felt off about the place, something felt… sinister.
‘Wonder if Norman Bates is going to answer.’ Martinez said unconsciously picking up on my vibe. ‘Something about this place feels…’
‘…off.’ I finished as I unbuckled my seatbelt. ‘Want to call backup in case this guy turns out to be a handful?’
‘Nah, we can handle a single wit-report. Besides, Ortiz would breathe fire if we called backup on something like this.’
‘Beats being two dead cops…’ I said, feeling a chill work its way into my bones. Something definitely was not right about this place.
Shrugging Martinez climbed out of the car. After I didn’t immediately get out, he leaned in and looked at me.
‘Coming sweetheart? Or is this too much for you to handle?’
‘Blow me, jackass…’ I growled, swinging my own door open and getting out, adjusting my fedora, and after a moment undoing the button on my jacket, freeing my holster in case I needed to reach in and get it. Martinez watched me without saying anything, but I noticed him free his holster too.
*************************************
‘Yes, yes, yes… come to me, come to me…’
I licked my lips in anticipation as I watched them come up the walkway; notice the female look around nervously. It didn’t matter, soon she would be in my hands, and soon I would give her the retribution she did not know she needed.
*************************************
The closer I got to the warped front door, the more certain I was that this was a mistake. I let Martinez take the lead, and held back, looking around the overgrown and dying yard. I thought I could make out the skeleton of a swing in one corner, a cement birdbath in another. Whoever lived here didn’t believe in upkeep.
‘Want me to hold your hand, or do you want to act like you’ve got a pair?’ Martinez asked with a growl.
‘Last time I checked, I didn’t have a pair, asshole.’ I returned, still eying the decrepit yard.
‘Whatever.’ Martinez answered, turning to knock on the door. He’d no sooner raised his fist than the front door was opened. A mammoth stood there, looking down on Martinez, and I felt my hand inch towards my holster, but then the giant smiled broadly. I relaxed my hand, but kept it close to my holster anyway. Even a dog will wag its tail before it bit you, and I didn’t want to get bit.
‘Jesus H. you are a big one buddy.’ Martinez said with some awe.
The big man merely increased the wattage of his smile.
‘Yeah, but I can reach the top shelf a lot better than some people… detective?’ He asked genially, in a slightly accented voice.
‘Detective Martinez...’ Martinez said pulling his badge out, and showing it to the big guy. ‘This is my partner, Detective Kelsey; we’re here because you said you had information for us about a recent homicide?’
‘Yes, yes I do actually. My name is Lawrence; won’t you come inside, please?’ He swept his hand aside and beckoned us to come inside. I don’t know why, but something told me that he was lying. My unease deepened when Martinez turned and looked at me, bowed slightly and went inside.
*************************************
Just like that, the trap was sprung.
*************************************
I pushed my disquiet aside and followed ‘Lawrence’ and my partner inside the old house. Right away I knew it was a mistake. I saw the large shears in the man’s hand, started to cry out a warning to my partner, but it was too late. As I swung my gun free, the shears were buried in Martinez’s neck. Blood shot from the wound, his eyes flew open in surprise and pain, and his hands went to the injury. Lawrence yanked Martinez’s hands free, and pushed the large shears in deeper, opening the wound. Martinez could do nothing but sink to his knees where Lawrence kicked him viciously. He fell over, dead or dying, I couldn’t tell, I was focusing on the immediate threat. I swung my gun up and the big man was already on me, he clubbed my hand, and it went numb instantly. I almost dropped my gun, but somehow managed to hold onto it; little good it did me. Lawrence’s big meaty hands clamped around my throat, and I felt the world go gray. He began to bear down, really putting his weight into it. I began to feel dizzy and light headed and knew that death was only seconds away if I didn’t do something quick. I brought my hand around, and clubbed him in the ribs repeatedly with my gun to no avail. So I pushed the small revolver into his side, burying it in the folds of his gray sweatshirt and pulled the trigger, and kept pulling until the gun clicked in my hand. He reacted with every shot, grunting as the hollow point slugs slammed into his body. I saw that his sweatshirt began to turn red alarmingly quick, and his hands eased up slightly, but not enough. He instead seemed to find some inner resolve and bore down harder on me, causing motes to dance in front of my eyes. I tried clubbing him in the side, where I’d shot him, but didn’t have the strength to put any real effort into it. Blackness rushed up to greet me, and he smiled, leaning over me, and whispered to me.
‘I am the messenger,’ He whispered. ‘You are the message.’
I felt something crack inside my neck, tried yet again bashing the monster in the ribs. I knew that I wouldn’t win this fight, but I had to try. I felt his hands weaken, felt myself weaken, and tried one last feeble attempt to get away. Dropping my empty gun I shot my hands up, and grabbed his large thumbs. With one final effort, I wrenched his big hands away, and somehow managed to bring my knee up high enough to kick him in the balls. The man ‘Lawrence’ grunted, tried bringing his hands back up, but the bullet wounds had done their damage. He put a hand to his side, and it came away bloody, he offered me a surprised look before falling over to the ground, where he mumbled weakly, and was finally still.
‘That’s what you get, asshole.’ I cried, falling to my own knees. My neck was on fire, and it was hell trying to breathe through what felt like a drinking straw, but I managed. The darkness was still dancing at the edge of my vision as I picked my gun up, shook it open and dumped the empties before refilling it with more slugs. Lawrence wasn’t moving, but I wasn’t taking any chances. It took six rounds to stop that nightmare, and I would gladly pump six more into him just to make damn sure. Every movement was pure agony, but I managed to crawl to my downed partner. I knew he was dead, but wanted to make sure anyway.
*************************************
This wasn’t right; this wasn’t how it was supposed to end! I was promised, promised! Mother’s cruel laughter chased me into the darkness.
A touching, loving and spirtual insight of the dying process, filled with peace, smiles and starting on their journey, taking me with them as far as I could go, returning back with something I didn't have before. Will be out early in 2010..on Kindle
My Colorado Journal continues with the Pambling Roads collection of US state journals, helping readers spark their interest with historical trivia and tidbits about Colorado. It's an interactive journal designed to nurture creativity and self-motivat
