by Tom Clarke
I passed the photo back to Darrel and sat back in my chair; the wheels in my brain were turning and turning fast for that early in the morning.
“What are you thinking?” asked Rick.
“It’s probably nothing, I mean, well this may sound weird but last night when we met with Desie there was something a little odd too. She was on time, which is very weird, and she also seemed a little more alert to the world, there was a light behind her eyes, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah man, your right” said Keith with a tone of confusion on his voice. “In fact Jimmy the entire vibe in that place last night was just, different. We could have had some more time with her had that other genius not fallen off the pole.”
“WHAT!” said Stevie and Darrel in almost stereo.
“Oh yeah” Keith replied with a big smile on his face. “You should have seen it brother, one second she is swinging around that thing, and the next she is crumpled up on the deck.”
“I’m just glad she was not in full swing when she slipped or she would have gone hurtling into the audience and then we would have had a mass-causality to deal with.”
With the room laughing and the meeting starting to spiral out of control Rick stepped in to bring things back on track by saying, “Gents if we can get back on track. I think that we have a good opportunity to make an impact here. I am thinking that our best bet is a joint operation, we will provide the undercover’s. Darrel and Stevie, you guys supply the cash. I’m thinking were going to need a good chunk of it to make it worth our friend Kings while to deal with us.”
“You must have been reading my mind Rick” Stevie stated, “we are down, in fact I’ve already started some paperwork on it.”
“How about you Darrel?” Rick asked.
“You can count us in too” Darrel replied, “one condition though.”
“I want to roll on the undercovers if that’s cool with Jimmy and Keith.”
“Okay by me Rick” I answered tipping my coffee cup towards Darrel. “Do we look into a federal case or keep it state?”
Rick nodded his head and replied, “If Stevie and Darrel are okay with it why don’t we keep it state now and when the time comes we can approach Darren over at the U.S. Attorney’s Office and get his thoughts.”
“Good with me” both Darrel and Stevie replied, and with that the meeting was over.
“Fell off the pole huh?” Darrel asked as we walked out of the conference room.
“Right on her narrow ass! I replied with a laugh. “I will try and reach out to Desie and/or King and let you know when we can get back in play.”
Darrel and Stevie went back to their offices to brief their bosses, Rick went to his office to update his boss, and Keith and I headed off to get some lunch and start thinking about what we were going to do later that night with Desie.
“You know Keith, the more I think about it the more it is bugging me, that picture of King” I said as we drove to lunch. “Then Desie last night, I don’t know, something is just not right with that.”
Keith looked at me, shook his head and replied in the tone of a man that had something bothering him, “I know what you mean. Look I didn’t say anything about it and I don’t want you to think my imagination is running away with me, but last night in the club, I’m pretty sure that Desie looked right at me in the mirror and smiled.”
“What, are you sure?” I replied.
“Yeah Jimmy, I mean it kind of weirded me out a little, and I couldn’t be sure so I just brushed it off.” My grip tightened on the steering wheel as I snapped back at Keith, “Jesus Christ Keith, you know better than that! Next time some shit like that happens you fucking tell me!”
“I know Jimmy, I’m sorry” Keith replied, “But man it just kind of weirded me out. I thought it was my paranoia getting the better of me but after seeing that picture of King, and what you’re saying, brother I just don’t know. It won’t happen again.”
Before Keith or I could say anything else my phone started ringing, it was Dan Swanson a friend of mine from patrol division. I put the phone on speaker and set it on the seat, “Danny, what’s up my brother, how’s life in the rough and tumbled world of patrol?”
“Not bad Jim, you sober or should I call back later” Swanson cracked into the phone.
“Now’s good, I’m just kicking it with my old-lady Keith.”
“FUCK YOU Jimmy!” Keith yelled, “Don’t listen to his dumb ass Danny, he’s just jealous because he couldn’t cut it in patrol and had to hide out in narcotics his entire career.”
Danny and I both laughed, then he said, “Jim listen, before you two break out into a domestic disturbance and I have to pull a case number, I’m over here at 1414 Hollow Crest road setting up a VARDA. I got something over here you and your girlfriend might want to take a look at.”
I looked at Keith who raised his hands in the air as if to say why not, “No problem super cop we will be there in about 10 minutes.”
Danny replied, “Thanks Jim, see you guys in a few” and then disconnected the call.
2. The Basement
Hollow Crest Road was set just on the outskirts of town. All of the houses were on large lots with lots of trees, most of them were not visible from the road.
Normally we wouldn’t meet in public with uniformed officers unless we absolutely had to, but I felt okay with Keith and I meeting Danny out there. It was out of the public view and he knew what’s up and wouldn’t do anything to burn us. Danny was one of the smart ones. That, with the fact that he was setting up a VARDA, a device that has a couple of different trip sensors that when tripped start broadcasting over the police radio frequency whatever pre-recorded message that’s been loaded to it. They are good for houses or areas that are prone to criminal activity but are un-occupied so that told me the house he was at was vacant.
As Keith and I arrived I noted that 1414 Hollow Crest was a large single level house set back on a long driveway and obstructed from the view of the road. While I navigated up the driveway Keith called dispatch on his cell, “Hey this is 1448, I’m with 1432, can you put us out with 1-Charles-25 on Hollow Crest, cool thanks. We are good to go” Keith said. He may have still been learning the ins and outs of undercover work, but he was very in tune when it came to officer safety and checking in, and out, with dispatch was an important part of that.
We pulled around the back of the building and saw Danny standing next to his patrol car. We parked and got out, “Hey fellas” Danny said as he greeted us.
“Danny what’s the news brother” I said shaking his hand.
Danny reached out and smacked Keith in the chest then said, “Listen Jim, you remember when you asked me to keep an eye out for anything having to do with that meth freak King, or the LW’s.”
“Yes sir I do” I replied, “you got something?”
“Yeah, I think, let’s go inside.” Danny said as he turned and started walking towards the house.
As the three of us walked up to the house Danny explained that the owner and sole occupant had committed suicide about two-weeks ago and his relatives believed that folks were coming into the house and stealing items. An investigation had not revealed any signs of forced entry so, with the relative’s permission, Danny was there to install a VARDA with the hopes of catching someone in the act.
As we walked into the house I suddenly noticed that the air became uncomfortably heavy, the vibe of the place was just oppressive. I looked at Keith and I could tell that he was feeling the same thing I was, he just had that look in his eye that something was not right. Danny on the other hand seemed just fine with it and kept right on talking as we walked deeper into the home.
1414 Hollow Crest was a single level house with a basement, but it was not laid out like your average house. There were rooms all over the place, some small, some large. Some had doors on them and others just seemed to lead into open spaces. Many of the rooms had sharp corners leading into them and all were carpeted in a dark shag style that was worn
down as if someone had been walking back and forth in very specific areas.
There was a long central hallway that connected all of the rooms with a couple of smaller hallways jetting off of it, each of them had sharp corners and were very poorly lit. The windows were all done in dark colored glass and the entire interior of the house was done in dark colors and dark wood. The whole place was just dark.
As we moved through the house towards the living room I noticed that a couple of the rooms had hasp-locks on the outside of the doors. “What’s this shit all about” I asked Danny referring to the hasps on the doors.
“I’m not sure” Danny replied, “but the word at the precinct is that the former resident was a pedophile and the FBI was looking at him for some nasty shit he was doing on his computer and that’s why he opted out. I can tell you that the current owners hauled away garbage bags of empty fast food containers and other trash from those rooms. Almost like he had someone locked up.”
Keith had a serious look of disgust on his face as he said, “Sounds like he did the world a favor.”
The deeper into the house we got, the more uncomfortable Keith and I were feeling, but again Danny seemed unfazed. This didn’t surprise me that much, Danny was a rock-solid cop, he and I had been on the tactical team together back in the day and he was all business.
As we walked into the kitchen area Danny said, “So Jim I was getting ready to put the VARDA up when I thought I heard something in the basement.”
“I went down there to check it out and discovered some graffiti.”
“What sort” I asked, “gang shit?”
“No” Danny replied with an inquisitive look on his face, “it has some symbols and lettering I didnt recognize, but then it had in bold letters the name King and LW.”
“No shit!” I replied, “did you get any pictures?”
“I was going to but then I got a call from dispatch, radio reception down there sucks! So, I went topside and then called you. Anyway, I figured you might want to check it out first hand. The door to the basement is over there, I need to finish setting up the VARDA, you cats knock yourselves out.”
“Thanks bro, Keith and I will take a look.” As I said that I looked at Keith who was looking back at me with wide eyes as if to say, really, you want to go down there.
As I started to open the door to the basement Danny turned back to me and said, “Jim, listen, this may sound a little weird, but it’s kind of creepy down there so don’t bump your head.”
“Brother this whole crib is creepy” I replied as Keith and I walked over to the door leading to the basement.
As Danny headed back to finish setting up the VARDA I opened the door to the basement and instantly felt a chill, got the smell of wet dirt and what I can only describe as burnt metal shavings. “Do you feel that Keith, or am I just creeping myself out here?”
“No” Keith replied, “I feel it, not sure what it is but I feel it. Come on Jimmy, let’s get our shit together and look at that graffiti.”
Seeing that I was visibly uncomfortable with the situation, Keith reached up and put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a nod.
As I opened the door I saw that the stairwell leading down into the basement was constructed of narrow, wooden steps that about half-way down hooked a sharp left, preventing me form seeing the bottom. I started down the stairs keeping a tight grip on the stairwell railing, Keith being the good tactical officer that he was gave me a few steps so that if we had to move we would not get tangled up in each other’s feet, and then started down behind me.
Once we got into the basement I turned on the only light switch I could find which activated a single fixture in the middle of the room. The light from the couple of exposed bulbs hanging from the ceiling did little to cut through the damp darkness. In fact, it seemed to make it worse by casting shadows into already darkened spaces.
Just like upstairs, the air seemed heavy; it was not hard to breathe, just heavy on my shoulders and chest. It almost felt like I was wearing body armor but I wasn’t.
I looked over at Keith and by the frown on his face I could tell he was feeling the same way, he was so uncomfortable he was tapping on his gun, which was hidden under his shirt, with his right fingers.
The more we ventured into the basement area the more the feeling started to intensify. It was like someone was slowing turning up a recording of white noise, except the white noise was carrying on it feelings of anger and aggression.
I had felt this way once before when I was a kid, probably 8 or 9 years old. I had, for some time, reoccurring nightmares about a large wolf. When I would wake from these nightmares I would feel this oppressive, angry feeling that I was feeling now.
As I grew up, and matured, I was able to master my fears of the wolf which had terrorized me in my dreams. Eventually the dreams left me, but the fear never truly did.
I had felt fear plenty of times during my law enforcement career, but that was fear, this was different, something unsettling to me, something old.
“I found it” Keith said, “Jesus, look at this shit Jimmy.”
I walked over to Keith and there on the wall was a large circular pattern that looked as though it had been carved with some sort of a tool. Inside the circle there was lettering and symbols that I didn’t recognize, just like Danny had said. Underneath the circle there was scrawled in red spray paint the name of King with LW off to the side.
As I stood there staring at the circle I could feel myself being drained, almost like the energy was being sucked right out of my body. I could feel my ability to concentrate start to leave me. I suddenly had a strange overwhelming urge to place my hands flat against the circle. It was almost hypnotic.
“Hey Jimmy, I found some more” Keith yelled, snapping me out of the pseudo trance I was in. “Looks like biker business over here.”
I walked over to Keith and spray painted in black on another wall was LWFFLW (Lone Wolf Forever Forever Lone Wolf). Struggling to read the rest of the verbiage on the wall I called to Keith, “Hey bro shine your cell phone light over here, what does that say?” Keith shined the light from his cell phone under the LWFFLW tag and carved into the wall was scrawled KILL THE BITCH.
We started to look around the poorly lit basement, our curiosity and professionalism pushing aside our feelings of being uncomfortable. We both had our cell phone lights going when we walked around a corner into a small room in the basement and saw a runty wooden table, with large colored candles that were almost completely burned down, sitting in the center of the room. The wax from the candles was dried in place where it had run off the table creating wax stalagmites red and black in color.
In the corner of the room behind the table I could see what looked like scuff marks in the dirt on the floor, almost as though someone had been scrambling with their feet trying to get away from someone else. I bent down and took a closer look at the table, I could see what looked to me to be claw marks running from one end to the other.
“Okay, Jim let’s get out of here...now!” Keith said as he looked over my shoulder at the claw marks in the table.
“Be cool brother, let’s get some pictures of this stuff, if nothing else I’m sure that Darrel will appreciate it.” Using our cell phones we started snapping pictures of the carvings on the walls, the graffiti, and the rest of the basement.
“What the fuck was that!” Keith yelled.
I turned and saw that he had drawn his handgun and was at the low-ready facing a dark corner of the basement.
I shoved my cell phone into my front pocket, drew my handgun, and moved to Keith’s right side also pointing in but at the low ready.
“What Keith, what is it?” That’s when I saw a spot darker than the surrounding darkness, about 6-feet tall with no real definable shape, move across the dark corner of the basement. As the shape moved with great speed it started to take on a shape reminiscent of a person who was hunched over and looking right at us.
“Police Officer, stop…show y
ourself!” I barked. By this time both Keith and I had gone from the low ready (a position with the muzzle of the gun pointed at the suspect’s feet) to pointed in at what our best guess would be was center mass.
The dark mass gave no response to my commands and seemed to be moving back further into the shadows. I looked to my side and saw that Keith was starting to back up towards the stairs.
As Keith was backing up he was approaching the opening of the small room where the table and candles were. “Keith, cover left...cover left!” I yelled as I kept pointed in at the dark corner of the basement.
Keith pulled his department issued Glock-27 handgun tight to his body, then stepped forward with his right foot, pivoting towards the small room. He then stepped back so he was not standing right in the middle of the doorway, a location we refer to as the “fatal funnel.”
“Hey what’s going on down there?” I heard Danny yell from the top of the stairs.
