by N. M. Brown
✽ ✽ ✽
Entering, Echo smiled back at doctor Cassi’s bitter scowl as she took in the same metal walls and sterile plastic scattered decoration. The coroner might have changed in recent years, but the room sure hadn’t. The Doctor had changed into scrubs and her body language seemed more relaxed in this form; like her street clothes were uncomfortable. She was younger than the old man she’d met before, but still had that old, stale air around her. “Detectives.” Doctor Cassidy greeted, ignoring Echo.
Coward, Echo thought as the Doctors pride rose above her professionalism. Echo knew the woman was beating herself up over the short comings that had occurred in the past hour. Lizzy was now in intensive care; her body already haven sustained irreversible damage due to hanging for so long. The Doctor blamed herself. She should have checked, she should have known. Echo just rolled her eyes. Yes, it was her fault. As it was the officers who were first on the scene. It was also Detective Hales fault and McQueen's and the paramedics and the doctors, blah, blah, blah. Everyone always had a way of blaming themselves. It was so… human. It made Echo sneer in disgust at her own race. Lizzy was in a life-threatening condition. It wasn’t as if the extra hours they could have shaved off would have done anything. She’d been taken by a deranged killer.
“Cassi.” Hale responded. “We’ll make this quick.” Nodding, the Doc walked over to the two covered slabs. The smell of blood still wafted from the bodies, but Echo kept going, enjoying the copper tang. It reminded her of night spent with Mara in her Midnight Suite. Blood, piss and every other bodily fluid you could imagine dripping off skin to the floor. It was quite a show.
McQueen faltered in his step as the sheets were lifted, making Echo think less of him.“Keep up Queenie. Little bit of blood can’t make you squeamish.” She murmured mockingly, getting glares from everyone.
Looking back at the bodies, the male victim had the sheet pulled down to his waist and the start of his wounds were just visible at his hips. His top half was intact, his chiselled jaw still defined, and his plump lips open just in inch. He was toned but had a beer or two round the waist. A man falling from his prime. Echo couldn’t see his legs and the damage they’d received, but she could guess. The sheet fell to the table top where there should have been thick carves and chunky thighs.
The woman however, only had the sheet moved down to her collar bone, as if she needed the privacy. Echo knew the woman had no boobs, Lizzy had been the same and she could see the shallow dips were the sheet met nothingness instead of soft flesh. There was no modesty in that. It made Echo think of Queenie’s need for dignity in death. She still thought it was foolish. The dead are worm food or chicken shit. Death doesn’t make your life hold solid, unmovable walls to hide your secrets and lies. If anything, death gave the world permission to poke and snoop through everything they wanted too. Family snooped into your stuff, the Obituary column looks into your life achievements, making up some bull shit. The hospital even gets permission to cut into your body and scoop out your insides if they so desired; nothing is sacred.
“Do you recognize them Ms. Headly?” Hale asked, his voice the most sombre she’d ever heard. Even the hard ball Detective found his softer side in this room.
“Yes. This is the lady and gent who left with Lizzy the other night.”
“Do you know anything about their lives, who they are?” McQueen asked, pen poised over note book. He wouldn’t meet her eyes as he asked the questions. Good, Echo thought, let him cower.
“I think he’s married.” Echo pointed at the man, his sharpened nose sticking high into the air. He’d looked like an arrogant ass when he was alive too. “He was complaining about his wife and she,” Echo nodded at the woman, “Didn’t seem at all offended. My guess; husband and mistress.”
“We don’t ‘guess’ in our line of work.” The Doctor snapped. She seemed to be sorting through some equipment, but Echo had no doubt nothing needed to be done. This entire room was spotless with everything having a place. Her back was too the room, allowing the Detectives to do their work, but Echo suspected there was another reason for her cold shoulder.
“It’s a sound theory.” Hale answered, feeling the tension too, though if it was odd he didn’t say, “It’ll be something we would have perused either way. Do you have anything else to say Ms. Headly?”
“I guess if you insist on making me do all the work for you… Lizzy approached them. She had a way of scoping out the kinky ones. They were drinking in the library last I saw. I left to relax in the Summer Annex.” Hales jaw tensed but that was his only reaction. Echo didn’t need to look to McQueen to know his: a huffed breath and a rosy sheen on his cheeks. “Have you thought about the fact they’re naked? The breasts, dicks and testicles missing?” She went on to say. Her mind, still spinning around Adin, remembered his wicked smile when he spoke of his darkest thoughts. He always had the twisted ideas. Nothing was ever done out of necessity. Everything had to have a reason; had to fulfil a need or a statement.
“It’s not something we need to discuss.” McQueen answered. “It was a part of a- … horrific way to die and their… their private parts were a part of it.”
Echo looked to the Irishman and rolled her eyes. “They’re the sexual organs, Queenie. You can say it; penis, cock, vagina, pussy.” Echo’s smugness spiked as she saw a blush creep onto McQueen’s cheeks. “The killer has picked one of the most intimate parts of the human body that you can share with another person and stole it away.” She continued. Moving her eyes back to the bodies, Echo bent at the waist, eyes lowering so to get a perfect side profile. “They were shown at their most vulnerable and at their most exposed. The killer wanted to show this, and then twist it with guts, blood, pain and vengeance. They wanted to make: sex, love and mating into a disgusting, repulsive act.” Straightening, Echo looked Detective Hale straight in the eyes. “Your killer, really, really doesn’t like sex.”
The room was as silent as the dead. The irony wasn’t lost on Echo. Hale looked deep in thought, while the Doctor had turned around with a look of fear and repulsion on her face. It was McQueen who was the only one moving, shaking his head side to side. “It’s a sound idea,” He spoke, his voice growing stronger as he pushed on. “but sex doesn’t have to be key. We don’t know the motives yet, nor have we found a link between the victims. There might not be one.”
“Not be one? Well, would you like to give me a badge and I do the work for you. I could save you the trouble?” Echo mocked, counting off on her fingers. “Two victims so far have been prostitutes. All genitals have been removed, as well as breasts and they’ve been put through extreme pain to do so. It bothers me to say, but it’s the truth, all the victims have been associated with Cardinal House, a very sexually prominent place.” Echo gave McQueen a knowing smile. He should know. “Sex is frowned upon in many factions, political parties and religious groups that frown upon stuff like that. Did I miss any other links, or do you think that’s enough?”
Hale cleared his throat, tucking his hand deeper under his armpits. “There are many factions, religions and states of mind that have a problem with prostitute’s and their way of life. I can agree their hunting ground might be that dive of a House, but the other victims have any number of reasons to have been targeted. Doctor Cassi is correct in stating we don’t guess or jump to conclusions in our investigations. It’s how things get missed.”
Echo smiled pleasantly while internally she laughed. No wonder Adin ran free for so long. The police were dogs chasing their own tails. “You know best Detective.”
Hale straightening his back. “Well Ms. Headly, thank you for your assistance. We’ll need you to make a quick statement upstairs before you leave, but after that you’re free to go.” The two detectives began to walk to the exit, Echo following, when a cold, shallow voice spoke across the metal slab.
"Why?" The Doctors eyes were down cast, looking at the two dead, but there was no question of who she was speaking too. "Why didn't you say sooner? We could hav
e gotten her down? We could have save-" the Doc abruptly cut off, her chin wobbled with emotion, but her eyes were on fire as she looked at Echo.
Echo had yet to hear of Lizzy’s condition in greater detail. The paramedics had looked stricken when they loaded her into the ambulance. She was still screaming, voice not even above a whisper and her single eye rolling in her head, her face puffy and broken. Her arms and legs had to be restrained which Echo thought was funny as they’d just cut her from the others. However, with what little energy Lizzy had left, she kicked and lashed out at everyone. Her swollen face was weeping puss already and there was no doubt she could scarcely see. A few teeth were missing too, which were all on display when she screamed some more. Her fingers had been mangled and purple while some of the tips had turned black. The same could be said with her feet. From halfway down her shins, her skin had turned an ugly blackish-grey with pooling blood spots. They hadn’t cut all the restraints, talking of limb infarctions and necrosis. She’d been brought here to this hospital, but beyond that there hadn’t been any news.
"She was dead anyway." Echo answered coolly.
Burning rage filling the Doctors eyes and she slammed her fist on the table taking in Echo’s chilling demeanour. "She isn't yet!" She snapped. "And if you had an ounce of humanity in you, you would have spoken sooner! She will be lucky to make the next few hours, let alone the night!"
A cold silence filled the morgue, cracked open by a laugh; delicate and full of pity. "You are a doctor and you still don't see it." Echo smiled in wonder.
Cassi blanched at Echo’s laugh but gripped the stainless-steel tray tighter. “Oh, enlighten me? What do I not see? Because I see a monster before me. You let her hang suffering and in pain when you could have helped.” The doctor folded her arms across her chest, challenging Echo.
All humans were the same Echo thought. They couldn’t comprehend what didn’t fit in there nice, perfect box."I did help by saying nothing.” Echo answered, matching Cassi’s stance. If this woman wanted ascreaming match, she’d get one. “You didn't save her. She was dead the moment the killer took her from the street. The moment they laid eyes on her she was doomed. Even if by some corrupted twist of fate and she does make it, she will wish, every hour of every day that you hadn't saved her; that you'd ended her misery." Echo’s voice didn’t rise or lower in tone. She laid it out simply. Why shout when cold calm was so much more effective? “She will wish for death. She will beg for it just as she did when she hung next to these two.” Echo pointed to the now covered bodies, their ghostly outline only just visible. “They were lucky. The dead are lucky. Lizzy will wish she was here, now, amongst us, dead on a table because lying beside them, there is no pain, no anguish, and no memories.” Echo tilted her head in pity, “You should have just put her down.”
"She isn't a dog!" The doctor snapped but that didn't stop the pitiful smile on Echo’s lips.
"No, she’s not. A canine, or any other animal have it easy. They feel pain, but they can't sense beyond the basic response of flight or fight. When a human is hurt, they know what lies ahead of them. First Lizzy wished to be saved: for her hero to come. Then, as time passed and the pain and fear grew, she wished for death. The pain increased in strength, becoming unbearable. It took over her senses and mind because she couldn’t see an end in sight. So, then, at that point she accepted that pain and accepted her death. She gave up on her life, her love and all that she holds dear. You,” Echo laughed, “you with your morals and ethics dragged her back into reality again and slapped yourselves on the back for it. But you left her life behind. Having life and living are two very different things. You might make her live, but she will never have a life. Her life, instead, will be ruled by fear and paranoia. She will curl in on herself, looking for that life she abandoned, and she won't find it. It would have been a mercy to end her, than to drag her onwards broken and empty. So, don't look at me like I'm a monster because I can see the road ahead, when all you're doing is watching your own feet."
It was the most Echo had probably ever said on her beliefs, but these people had no sense. They all were blind to life and their deepest fears. The doctor was crying, and McQueen looked close to tears, while Hale, Hale just looked like Hale. Hard and unmoving.
"You don't think she deserves a chance?? A chance to get better? Is that too much to hope for?" the Doc sniffed. Without a backwards glance Echo shook her head and strode away between the two detectives. She didn’t dare speak any more. Wounded prides and minds that had been opened to a new way of thinking had a tendency to lash out. Their hope was a fool’s errand, but they just couldn’t see it.
✽ ✽ ✽
Echo had waited in the car for the Detective. When they arrived they didn’t say anything, nor when they drove to the station. Echo could sense how wary of her they were. The revulsion spilled off of McQueen like a waterfall, which only made Echo even more determined to pull him down from his holy ledge. Hale kept his emotions in check, but he also simmered with anger. Echo suspected it wasn’t directed at her though, more at the situation. Four dead, one in critical condition with no suspects, it was all becoming to look like a serial murderer and that’s what Hale feared. It was what every cop feared. More murders to come with little evidence and almost no leads to follow. Let it be anything but a serial killer.
Once they got back to the stations main floor, McQueen was sent to do some errands in the tech department, while Hale got to keep Echo all to himself. The surly man, made Echo repeat all she’d said on the grounds of the House and then again what she’d said in the morgue, writing it down in a witness statement. Hale was thorough, making her explain every detail in more detail and expanded on anything she could give them. It was tedious. There were other places she’d much rather be.
“I have to ask this next question, policy.” Hale muttered, scribbling down the last of her words. “Where were you last night around three a.m. Ms. Headly?”
“In my apartment.” Echo answered. She knew where this was going; she’d been thinking about it while she seethed in the back of the cop car. How she loved to drop a bomb shell. “It’s on the top floor of the House in the attic. Lived there all my life.”
Hale smiled. It was fake, but he had to humour the witness. “And can anyone corroborate that Ms. Headly?”
“Well let me think.” She pretended to ponder, “I worked in the bar for a few hours at the start of the night, Sydney can verify, and then I was feeling a bit down, so I went up to the VIP area. You know. On the second and third floor,” Echo winked at Hale. He just ground his teeth. “I went with a friend. We moved from there to my apartment around four in the morning were we almost slept together. However, he got cold feet and did a runner around five. I was then visited by a charming girl, Sarah was her name and I ate her out in the wee-hours. I don’t know her second name and I don’t think she’ll be coming back round anytime soon, so I can’t help you there.”
Hale didn’t blush as McQueen would have, but he at least looked uncomfortable. “And this friend who did a runner,” He asked, “Does he have a name?”
“Sure, though I don’t know his first name. But I do know his profession. He goes by Detective. Detective McQueen.”
It was like someone had dropped an ice cube down the Detectives back. His shoulders tightened, his fingers clenched around the pen and his head sunk low. Finally, eyes trailing up, he looked at Echo, “I’m sorry Ms. Headly, could you repeat that?”
“Sure thing.” She was little too eager, but this was all too much. Tearing down McQueen's mighty ledge, stone by stone was so much fun. “Detective McQueen came to Cardinal House last night. He was no doubt investigating, so he was invited to the VIP area with me. He then needed some air and I walked him to my apartment where… well you can guess the rest.” Echo smiled.
Hale’s face erupted in red. Echo thought he might just blow his top there, but he didn’t move, or even breath. Instead his eyes focused on somewhere else. Echo was pretty sure if she walked away now
he wouldn’t even notice. After a sudden release of breath, Hale stood slowly, eyes still not quiet in focus. “Thank you for your time Ms. Headly. I’ll have an officer escort you out.”
But after a moment or two, Hale still didn’t flag an officer down so Echo just stood and moved away. Watching the Detective blow his top at McQueen would have been worth staying, but this was only the beginning. McQueen had placed himself high above in the clouds, as close to Him as he could get. How she would enjoy watching him fall to her level. Yes, that would be a treat. But that was later. For now, she had more pressing family matters.
XV
While Hale had questioned Echo again McQueen had focused on the hit man Mrs. Farrows had spoken about. Still clinging to her innocence there wasn’t much to go on, but she had given them an address for a street corner where ‘she was lead to believe’ there would be a public phone box still in operation and could call the hit man on. The tech team had been tracing calls all day and finding cameras to see who had placed a call. They also hoped - more importantly - they could trace who the calls had been made too.
It had made McQueen laugh out loud when the Techs had told him they had a camera that perfectly picked up anyone who used the phone. Not only would that mean they could catch Mrs. Farrows placing the call, but anyone else who may have had grievances with a spouse. Mrs. Farrow’s denial was falling apart and their case on her was building.
