by N. M. Brown
Golden smile and rolling his shoulders Archer didn’t even blink. “Isn’t that your job?”
McQueen ground his teeth. “Your staff haven’t been cooperative. You won’t let us interview your guests. It’s like you don’t want this case to be solved.”
“I have instructed my staff to be nothing but helpful.” Archer said without missing a beat.
“And her?” Hale’s dark eyes darted to Echo stood behind Archer, her face placid as ever. It showed none of the wildness she had last night. She hadn’t even looked at McQueen, not that he was waiting for her too, or watching her not watch him.
“Ask me anything.” She answered, and if McQueen hadn’t been watching her like a hawk, he’d have missed her devilish eyes glance his way that could only give him chills. “Anything at all.”
Hale released a bated breath, deflating some of his rage. “McQueen. Escort Ms. Headly to the perimeter of the tap.” McQueen stepped forward a grasped Echo's arm. “And Mr. Hellion, please, follow me where I can ask you some questions about the nature of this case.” Hale directed him back outside to a well-placed cop-car, door open and waiting. The two men walked side by side, neither allowing the other to fall behind them. It was a battle of stubbornness. McQueen wanted to laugh. That was until a heavy steel rod hit him hard in the back. It was really more of a light bump, but McQueen was rattled. He didn’t know if his day could get any worse.
Turning full of rage, he came across a sheepish looking forensics member, stuttering apologies as he redirected the gurney, the body bag swaying over the lumpy grass. “S-sorry detective.” He stammered, hurrying along while the black bag jiggled on the earth.
McQueen sighed placing his hands on his hips, cricking his neck. He was too jumpy. One murder was a tragedy, but now they had five bodies and no suspects. Mrs. Farrows would no doubt go down for the attempted murder of her husband, but did she even know the three victims they’d just found? Would she be stupid enough to put out multiple hits on multiple people? Or it wasn’t Mrs. Farrows. Maybe this was another contract murder done by the same sadistic killer. So far Hale and McQueen had kept the deaths off the newsfeeds and TV stations, but if word got out, people would start to panic seeing serial killers at every turn.
“Alright Ms. Headly, if you’ll just f-,” The words stilled on McQueen lips. Looking back to Echo, he paled when the space where she’d been stood previously was empty. He quickly scouted the sea of police cars and ambulances but wasn’t stupid enough to really think she’d escorted herself from the premises. He turned back to the darkness of the hooded trees instead. Eyes used to the blinding sunlight, it took an extra second for him to see within the gloom, where he found her. Right at the base of the tree of course, blood at her toes and a curious expression on her face as she gazed at the dead woman hanging.
“Ms. Headly.” He growled striding over and grabbing her elbow with a tight tug, yet surprisingly she remained stock still. He must have pulled softer than he thought. “You need to leave with me now please.”
“Ms. … Headly?” She let out in a hushed whisper, but she didn’t look at him. Instead, her head remained tipped back, looking straight into the face of the last victim. Head lolled forward, McQueen had escaped looking into her dead eyes or seeing the paleness of her face. Yet Echo was fascinated. “Don’t you think we’re a bit past that Detective?” She looked at him, a sparkle in her eye but no smile. She was teasing him, but it was deadly. “We have been somewhat intimate now, haven’t we?”
“Ms.-… Echo,” McQueen’s voice softened. “This isn’t a place you should be.” His body shuddered. “You shouldn’t have to see this-… this monstrous display!” He spat angrily. Ever since he left Ireland and joined the force, he’d come to realise there was worse acts of violence than he could imagine. He couldn’t fathom the mind it took to make a human suffer like this. To kill was one thing, but the put on such a display, to cause such horrors for one owns simple enjoyment. It was maddening.
With a start, he realized he’d been clamping on Echo’s arm tighter than he meant to, probably causing bruises. But when he looked up at her, she still held the fascinated look on her face, but this time she was looking at him. “This,” She indicated with her hand, like she was speaking of the weather, “this bothers you, doesn’t it?” The way she phrased it, the marvel in her voice, McQueen wondered how she could be so calm, stood but a few feet from a hanging corpse.
“Yes. People don’t deserve such pain. To have their dignity stripped away from them like this.” Echo looked confused by the concept or as if it was something that hadn’t occurred to her. “People should die with peace in their hearts and faith in their mind. They should know that this life, this world, is done but there is more on the other side.” He spoke. Words of the bible rose to mind, his mother’s voice clear as she said good night; ‘For this God is our God forever and ever; he will be our guide even to the end’.
Echo didn’t reply straight away, her gaze trailed off to the hanging body, the poor woman’s knees but a foot or two above Echo’s head. When she did speak, it wasn’t mocking like McQueen expected. “I can see the pleasure in that idea, but no peace can overcome the fear of nothingness after the world we know it to be. People fear that after the end we are worm food, so they create fantasies for themselves. But the truth is, no amount of faith can stop you falling out a worm’s asshole.”
McQueen didn’t know how to respond to that; he knew some people didn’t believe in the afterlife, or a higher being, he’d met people like that before. But Echo didn’t seem concerned with what anyone else would think. So, he didn’t respond at all. He focused on his job like Hale was looking over his shoulder. “I should really escort you away now.” He spoke softly, tugging at her arm with the same softness. Her harsh words sent a cold chill to his heart. His mother had raised him on the Bible and had stressed the importance of finding his way to a happy ‘afterlife’. The concept of simply not believing really unnerved him.
“Sure.” Echo began to walk away, and McQueen had to jog to keep up. “Did you I.D. the other two, victims?” She asked.
Her question surprised McQueen and he stopped them both in their tracks. “The other two?” His eyes flashing to the red head, he looked back at his dark beauty, “You know that girl??”
Echo snorted. “I wouldn’t say girl. That’s Frizzy Lizzy. She came to the House all the time, about as much as Dwight. She has a fetish thing, gets all the kinky customers to go back to her ‘playhouse’. For a fee, of course.” She looked back at the body and McQueen followed her gaze. She knew this woman. But then again, she’d known the first prostitute too. Maybe that was the link, not just prostitutes, but that they worked out of the House. Maybe the House was the killer’s hunting ground.
“What else?” Drawing his pad and pen, he started to scrawl down his thoughts, the leads needing to be followed. Possible links popped up in his mind, but he needed more information.
“The last time I saw Lizzy was… two nights ago.”
“The night we found the first victims?” McQueen mused, still scratching away. “Was she alone?”
“No. She was with a man and woman.” McQueen asked her to describe them, “One was a woman, skinny as a stick, dark hair, gorgeous red dress and gold jewellery. Indian maybe. The guy was a typical man, white shirt, blue suit, waxed brown hair with a four o’clock shadow. Handsome. A type of man woman would throw themselves at.” Echo rolled her eyes as McQueen pelted her with more questions. “They drank for a few hours, cocktails, beers and such. They all left pretty steamed draped all over each other. I wasn’t around for most of the night, so I’m not sure what time they left. Sydney could tell you more”
“And how did they act, in the club? Were they acting strange? Worried about anything?” McQueen pushed. If the killer had stalked the threesome after they’d hung up the first victims, they could be on a security camera. Not in the House of course. They tried that route and it seemed Mr. Hellion liked his customer’s privacy.
After the show McQueen had seen last night, he wasn’t surprised. A divorce attorney could have a field day with five minutes’ worth of footage. But further down the street perhaps in the centre of town…? “Was there anyone following them? Or watching them; keeping close in the bar?”
“Lizzy might have had a stalker, but I don’t know what happened to him in recent months.” Echo sounded annoyed while McQueen’s mind spiralled with possibilities. His hand wasn’t moving as fast as his brain. “He was kicked from the House, but I really wasn’t there. Ask Sydney.”
A sharp, loud bellow struck McQueen's eardrums, and he jerked right off his feet. “McQueen!” Hale’s voice echoed around the empty warehouse. He was stalking back with Archer in tow, but McQueen suspected Archer went wherever he wanted to go, despite whether he could or not. “What the fucking hell is this shit?”
“Hale, I-…” McQueen stammered, looking back at Echo who was still stood, precariously close to the hanging body.
“When I tell you to do something, you do it!” The man seethed, stomping up into his face.
“Yes Hale, but-.”
“No fucking buts! I’ll have your badge for this!”
McQueen saw red. Hale had never liked him, not from the first day he’d shown up. Yes, he’d pulled a fuck-up or two but damn he’d worked hard to get here and now he held a giant lead.
“With all respect.” He stressed the word ‘respect’, making it clear he was keeping on respectful terms as a last resort. “I didn’t bring her here, she resisted arrest, but I began to escort her off the scene when she recognized the victim and I believe she’ll recognize the others.” That caught Hales attention. He didn’t speak, which was about as much indication to continue as McQueen was going to get. “She saw the victims on the night of the first murder. They left Cardinal House drunk and one of our victims had a stalker. I was thinking street camera or traffic camera could give us what we need. I was questioning Ms. Headly for more information when you came over.” Excitement had leeched into McQueen’s voice by the end, the hope flaring too much.
Hale remained silent for a beat before looking at Echo, “Is this true Ms. Headly? You recognize our victim?” Echo nodded. “You will have to make a statement again, the both of you.” He looked behind at Archer, “We’ll canvas your club, see if anyone else remembers them or what time they left.” Hales mind began to tick like McQueen’s had, but he kept himself professional. “If we can find anyone acting suspiciously, it’ll be a step in the right direction. McQueen, escort them away, fully this time. We have work to get to at the station? Cassi!” He barked as the good doctor walking over in her trouser slacks and blazer, “I want a speedy report on our three victims. I want everything-, “
“Two.” A passive voice said, and all eyes turned to Echo.
“Two?” Hale questioned, the first to regain his speech.
“Lizzy’s not dead.” Shock and then rage swept Hale’s face, the same emotion reflected on Dr. Cassi’s face.
“I don’t know if you just want the attention girl but to say such a thing in such a disregarding manner is-… is, well I should just arrest you right here and now.” Hale’s words flew from his mouth and McQueen couldn’t comprehend how she could be so caviller.
“Did you check for a pulse?” Echo questioned Cassi. “Because I don’t think you checked for a pulse which is very unprofessional of you, Doctor. I certainly wouldn’t want you near my family. You’d burry them alive.”
Hale snapped ‘Enough.’ at the same time Cassi protested her innocence. “Of course, we did.” she snapped, hands balled into fists. “The first officers on the scene did.” Her eyes swivelled to McQueen and he felt his stomach drop. His face must have paled, and eyes widened because fear shot into the Docs eyes as well.
“McQueen,” Hale said softly, dangerously. “Did the first officers on scene check for a pulse?”
McQueen's palms began to sweat, and he fumbled out his note pad, flicking to the right page. He couldn’t look at the body still hanging. “The two officers arrived at the scene… one radioed in the crime… while the other… the other puke in a bush over in the trees.”He licked his top lip nervously. “The other police officers arrived… and then the coroner was called…”
“Well, what a splendid display of Police work at its best.” Archer spoke from the back of the group, but he went ignored.
“McQueen. Did they check for a pulse?” Hale stressed again, panic flaring in his eyes.
“I don’t… No one said- …No. No, I don’t think so.” he whispered to Hale.
The truth was, even if it had been him to arrive first on scene, he didn’t think he would have checked. The blood, the dead empty eyes… how anyone could be alive after all that. How could anyone survive? But Lizzy’s eyes had been down casted, her hair hiding her face. She’d been overshadowed by the other victims; the other’s woman’s mangled legs and open intestine stealing the show. No one had wanted to look any closer. So, McQueen forced himself too do just that.
His shoes scraping on the dusty ground being the only sound that could be heard across the morning light. Echo didn’t move but then she didn’t need to. She already knew. Whether it had been Hale’s yelling, Echo’s closeness, or even the fact time had passed, McQueen could hear it now.
It was soft, nothing more than an infant’s attempts to blow out a dandelion. The small escape of air from between Lizzy’s lips. The never ending, blood curdling presence of a scream.
“Get a Medic! Now!”
XIV
By the time the afternoon came around, Echo was bored of the Detectives company. As she was giving McQueen a timeout for his blatant disregard for her needs, she wasn’t having any fun. Archer had quickly left the group, claiming an important meeting he couldn’t miss, and he was gone before any officer could counter his declaration. That was fine though, because they were very busy making sure their shoes were shiny and their hair neat for the fuck up they’d just created.
Echo, on the other hand, had to remain behind. She’d been escorted to the ‘comforts’ of the back of a police car while the Detectives had finished off, then she remained in the back seat while they ‘tidied’ up at the station. The sun was low in the sky by the time they took her to The Finvarra Peoples Hospital and to where the morgue was. The entrance was in a loading bay at the back surrounded by overhanging trees and giant ferns. The vegetation had turned the white walls of the hospital a murky, wish-wash green with numerous rust stains dribbling down from pipes and exhausts.
“What a delightful place.” Echo muttered to herself, stretching as they let her out the car. She noted how it had changed in a few years. It had been greener before, but now there was more burnt orange on twisting dead branches and scattered on the floor. Winter was on its way and if it wasn’t a pine tree, it was dying off. Last time she was here it had been Spring right in the middle of an April shower.
Adin’s death hadn’t even hit the print yet, and the police were already patting themselves on the back. Part of their due diligence was informing the family, which meant a body identification. Echo had walked into the morgue dripping wet and her shoes had squelched under foot. The officers at the time had asked her if she wanted an umbrella, but she’d stubbornly said no, not trusting cops. She still didn’t trust them really.
Ushered into the morgue, with Hale and McQueen at an elbow each, Echo wasn’t surprised everything inside had remained the same. Unlike what most people believed, the morgue its self wasn’t cold. It was quiet, too quiet but it wasn’t the temperature that gave people the shivers. The blank white walls and the smell of death made it feel cold. The lack of life and presence.
“This way Ms. Headly.” Hale said in a hushed tone. Echo smirked. Cops - she found - were always the one’s most scared of death. Maybe they called it respect, or maybe because they spent so much time in the morgue, they felt they couldn’t escape it, so treated it like home.
Following behind the two tall men, Echo tried to resist old m
emories. She noticed the same light, three in from the door still flickered at every four second interval. The doors still creaked at the same moment as they close, and the same ugly gurneys lined the halls. The double doors on the left that took you back upstairs to the busy hospital still hung from the hinges wonky.
The hospital was full of either the dead or dying; or as Echo called them, delusional. Everyone came to a hospital thinking they would walk back out again, but it was funny how slim those chances actually where. McQueen would probably say the hospital was a place to find peace. Echo didn’t believe that. But even as she thought that, her traitorous mind threw her an image of Adin, dead. He’d looked… at peace which was something she’d never seen on him. Maybe McQueen had been partly right, in the physical sense at the very least. Maybe when you die, that part of you finds peace. Adin had never lived a peaceful existence, and Echo knew, even now, years later, he still haunted her dreams and woke her in a cold sweat. He might have looked at peace, but he would have boiled the seas with anger for what Echo had done. Done to him.
