Hell's Detective: Murder

by N. J. Bamford

  “When you were around Danny for the first time,” Jenne asks, “Did you sense anything odd about him? Something that would set you off and make you suspicious?”

  “Um... no. We were in the nurse’s office when we first met him. Maybe the cleaning chemicals kept me from smelling the blood on him.”

  “And you, John?”

  “I had my contacts on, so I couldn’t see the signs of his soul deteriorating.”

  “Which is why you two cannot get involve,” Ellisaüch states, “The Damned hide themselves in their human form. Only by being around Half Breeds will they be unable to hide themselves, and Half Breeds are the only ones that can defeat them.”

  “And the Carrier is smart,” Jenne adds, “He’s infecting those that are exposed to blood or cleaning products on a near daily basis. There is a good chance the Carrier is one of the medical students."

  “Then it could be any one of them.”

  “Which leads us back to full circle with our previous question,” Ellisaüch proclaims dramatically, “What’s your answer to that?”

  “We wait.”

  “What,” is everyone’s declaration. After all that talk about needing to defeat the Carrier...

  “The police force will be searching all the medical college students in search of other possible serial killers. With the arrest of another medical student trying to kill another family, I won’t be able to investigate into the matter without tripping over some legal stipulation.”

  “So we wait until they screw up or something,” Richard commented snidely.

  “Not really. The police will push the Carrier into doing something stupid in order to continue infecting and keeping his human form. The Half Breed Angels working on the police force will see to that.”

  “Wait... Half Breed Angels? You guys work together?”

  “Tolerate one another would be the more correct term. I can’t do anything to them that would breach the treaty without being provoked. Half Breed Demons, on the other hand, don’t like sharing territories with each other and will fight to keep it.”

  “Weren’t you in a fight with one a few months ago,” John asks, remembering her coming home in scratches and one of her horns broken.

  “Yep,” Jenne replies with distaste, “Gary. Sixth attempt to. Doesn’t know when to take the hint and give up already.”

  * * * *

  Lilia parks her car near a group of young women dressed as scantily as, by law, allowed. They are the prostitutes owned by Rowe Tiroffi, the local pimp that has connections all over the city. Lilia hates how these young women sell their bodies for money and only earn half the profits, but most of them are runaways from abusive homes with connections to keep their abusers out of jail. Rowe gives them a place to live and protection from their abusers, having them go to doctors and keep them off drugs. He isn’t the best pimp around, but he doesn’t assault his charges, and that is as much that Lilia can ask for.

  “Here you go ladies,” the social worker said as she gets out of the car, handing out condoms and her card. She couldn’t force them to stop doing their job, but she can try to help them keep themselves safe. The young women are grateful for the supply, for Rowe sometimes forgets to give them condoms when they go on the job.

  “I see you’re resupplying the ladies again,” everyone turns to see Raiden walking over to them, brandishing his badge, “Skedaddle, ladies. No business tonight. Cops are everywhere, and are not afraid of your pimp.”

  The prostitutes groan in frustration and leave, a few wishing farewell to Lilia. Rowe may keep them safe from abusers, but not the police. They are on their own when it comes to the law.

  “Did you have to do that,” Lilia states angrily, “It took me months to gain their trust!”

  “I could’ve arrested them,” Raiden informs casually, “You know prostitution is illegal, yet I see you, a member of the government, encouraging it.”

  “I can’t force them into going to the police against their abusive families,” the social worker crosses her arms, “As I heard, one of them is the daughter of that asshole cop Leroy.”

  “We’re still working on the evidence against him and you know that, but I’m here for another reason that to jive on your work ethics. I believe that there’s a Carrier here in Jamerson City.”

  “A Carrier? How the hell did a Carrier get past you?”

  “He’s hiding in the medial student community, infecting students and telling them to kill families with only one child to them. Something about them not fully contributing to the human race.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “From the girl I arrested this morning. She was spouting about it before I removed the infecting Ash from her. Perhaps you can shed some light about this?”

  “Hm,” Lilia thinks hard, turning away for a moment, “It doesn’t sound right. The only thing I can think of is during the monarchy periods, royals and nobles had to have more than one child to ensure an heir or have a back-up in case the heir were to perish, seeing as the death rates for children were very high. Farmers have many children to help them with caring for the crops and the livestock. There was the baby boon thanks to the good years without war, the governments encouraging couples to have children.

  “But, those things don’t apply much anymore in this day and age. The population’s very large and housing is very limited. Most are living in small apartments and paying thrice the value on rent. A small cup of coffee today could’ve paid for a month’s worth of groceries sixty years ago. There are orphanages full of children looking for good homes, and foster care is badly swamped with children needing guardians that a few bad applicants are accepted without their files carefully read, leading to so many cases of child abuse, neglect, and murder.

  “I my honest opinion, I don’t see the human race needing to repopulate at a fast pace any longer. If anything, I feel it needs to slow down a little bit.”

  “Such an old way of thinking would mean that the Carrier is over a couple centuries old, which is impossible. It would’ve been dead by now.”

  “Perhaps the Carrier is young, but thinks in that old fashion. There are still a few humans that live in the old ways and forgo this technological age.

  “Anyway, I got work to do. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “It’ll have to wait,” Raiden’s phone goes off, “Looks like my fellow officers got a hit. I’ll be back later.”

  “Don’t be too soon,” Lilia replies as she heads back to her car, “I got several more cases to work on.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of impeding, unless they were breaking the law.”

  * * * *

  Daisy couldn’t understand it. John and Richard came back to school after their stay at the hospital three days ago, for reasons she was not allowed to know about, and they are acting like total strangers to one another! She had thought there were getting along together, becoming the best of friends. What had happened between them, and why isn’t anyone telling her anything?!

  Huffing in annoyance, she looks at a page in her book of a demon before scribbling it on a page in her scrap book. The demon has large red horns and a heavy set of wings, the face and upper body a masculine human male. The lower half is that of a reptile, the legs long and twisted in shiny black scales. A long and powerful tail wraps around one leg, the tip ending in a series of barbs. A menacing creature it is, yet it is cradling a beautiful female angel in its arms. Her naked body is perfectly curved and pale, long curly raven hair fluttering in the wind. The feathers of her wings are white as snow, gray and black spots decorating the tips of the feathers.

  Whenever she is frustrated, Daisy draws. Demons, angels, fairies, beasts... anything related to fantasy and myth. It helps her to ease her frustrations and bring out the artist in her. Many of her friends believe she should move on to other things than fairy tales and make-believe creatures. Daisy didn’t care for anything else. Real or fake, she loves myths and fantasies. She wants to become an expert in th
e field, writing her own stories and discovering new myths not yet discovered. It’s what she loves to do. What's so wrong with that?

  Students begin filing into the classroom, two of them being the origin of her frustrations. John takes his usual seat while Richard speaks to one of his friends from the baseball team before sitting down. Neither one greets the other.

  “Morning,” John greets Daisy, but it lacks any enthusiasm.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “What?”

  “You and Richard! You guys are acting like the events of last month had never happened! Acting like strangers to one another... What the hell?!”

  “Calm down, Daisy. We’re just taking a break from each other. That’s all.”

  “Who the hell do you take me for to believe that bullshit? I know that something happened between you two, and I want to know what happened... now.”

  John fumbles for an answer. Daisy didn’t know about his Third Sight or that Jenne is a Half-Breed Demon. She would have a field day if she found out, like a kid getting exactly what she wants for Christmas. Word would spread, and the Half-Breed Angels would have an excuse to kill her. The other Half-Breed Demons would come and hone in on both him and Richard, auctioning them off in the slave trade. That is only a few of the scenarios he can think of at the moment. He can’t tell Daisy, but she is very persistent. She will hunt him down to the ends of the Earth to get what she wants.

  Luckily, the homeroom teacher arrives and saves John from Daisy’s interrogation for now. He focuses on the lessons at hand, forgetting about his dilemma for the moment. Halloween’s two weeks away and a costume contest would be held with a fifty dollar prize for the best costume. John would have to ask Jenne for help on that one, as she loves the holiday, not because of it being a celebration of horror and of the dead, but for the candy and the parties. They’re going to be dissecting pig fetuses come December in Biology, so the lessons beforehand are going to be about the human body. Nothing new in History or Geometry other than what is going to be on the midterm, which is going to be fun for him. Lunch comes, and he avoids Daisy like the plague by hiding in the men’s restroom with his lunch. He sits in one of the stalls and eats a sandwich, ignoring the sounds of the other occupants, when his cell phone went off with a text message. He reads the message in confusion, but smiles brightly a minute later:

  Mom’s making Dad and I remodel a few of the rooms. Wanna help? Will pay.

  Richard

  Finishing off his sandwich, he texts back:

  Sure. What day and time? Watch out for Daisy. She’s on the war path for answers. She doesn’t know. Do not tell her.

  John

  October fifteenth at 10:00 A.M. Thanks for the warning. I see her coming. Gotta run. Pray I get caught with my cell phone by a teacher. Detention is looking good right about now.

  Richard

  You may wanna reconsider that. I had detention before, and they made me write a five hundred word essay about what I did wrong, why it is wrong, and how I won’t do it again.

  John

  Fine by me. Anything to get away from our crazy female friend and her rampage.

  Richard

  Chapter 9

  “Carriers” Ellisaüch snarls, watching the city from the rooftops, “To be able to escape my sight is shameful…”

  From the shadows surrounding her, small eyes of emerald open, staring at her in both awe and fear. The eyes move as one, revealing their bodies to be balls of fur as black and shiny as a raven’s feather. They have no other body parts or even mouths, the sounds they make coming from the twitching of their eyelids.

  “Crate no matten,” the blonde secretary commands, “Pwasq mi lar Carrier. Ba diq viswqpare. Ki ceer libzu debva purkez ma gqezeka.”

  The furry eyes make a mix of trilling noises before disappearing into the shadows.

  “A little paranoid?”

  Ellisaüch turns to see Jenne behind her, trench coat fluttering in the wind.

  “My reputation is at stake,” Ellisaüch replies simply, frustration evident in her voice, “I can’t let anyone else in my profession find out, let alone find him first.”

  “You and your kind’s pride,” Jenne lifts her arms in exasperation, “I will never get it.”

  “Don’t you have a job to do?”

  “Always,” the private detective smiles, then turns and heads for the stairs, “Make sure to keep an eye on me. Or several, if you can spare a few from your side mission.”

  “Don’t I always?”

  * * * *

  Raiden walks down the hallways to the interrogation room, seeing three police officers waiting for him right outside the door.

  “What’s the status?”

  “The suspect’s name is Eliott Lurken,” one police officer reports, “Kid’s a fifth-year resident of Jamerson General Hospital. He was caught stealing prescription drugs from their inventory. Says he only wants to talk to you.”

  “Kid called you by name,” another police officer states, “You know him?”

  “No,” Raiden shakes his head, “Never seen him before.”

  “Thought so. That would’ve been bad for your reputation if you were connected to him.”

  “A lot of punks out there know of Detective Raiden,” the third police officer points out, “Doesn’t mean nothin’.”

  “The suspect said he won’t talk to anyone but to Detective Raiden, which leaves us suspicious.”

  “What us to try again,” the first police officer asks.

  “Nah,” Raiden scratches the back of his head, “I’ll talk to him. Last thing we need is the lawyers to barge in and silence him beforehand.”

  “Do you want any of us in there with you?”

  “No, Cid. I think I’m good.”

  Raiden enters the interrogation room, ignoring the bright smile from Eliott as he closes the door. He sits in the chair opposite of the young man, trying to read him. Nothing. This is going to be fun.

  “I’m glad you came Detective Raiden,” Eliott said happily, “I really think your superiors should reevaluate your fellow officers out there. Don’t even know how to treat a guest.”

  “I think your definition of a guest differs from ours," Raiden points out, “You are being incarcerated on theft of hospital property. The prosecutor is also looking into the possibility of adding illegal drug distribution and use to the charges.”

  “If he can prove it through legal means.”

  “In any case, here I am. You wanted to talk to me, so what do you want to talk about?”

  “It’s funny,” Eliott begins dreamily, “The very skills we residents are trained with to save lives can also be used to take them away. Quick, efficient. We could be called the greatest killers of all time, or the greatest healers. Talk about a double-edged sword, huh?”

  “And your point? Many jobs are like that, but those who seek to use their skills for the right reasons can really be called heroes and worthy of their jobs. To use their skills for the wrong reasons-“

  “-makes someone like me a monster, right?”

  Raiden stares at Eliott, the young man’s smile unnerving him. What is his game? He’s not infected, so...

  “Is there a point to this conversation,” Raiden asks with an unnerving smile of his own, “I would not like to be here all night long, and I feel that the feeling is mutual.”

  “Now, where would the fun be in doing that? After all, to get something you must give something in return.”

  “Such as?”

  “I want a walk. Charges dropped and my name out of the papers. I have my family’s reputation to keep, after all.”

  “No dice. We have you on camera along with witnesses seeing you trying to leave with the stolen goods. The hospital’s board will fire you and you’ll lose your scholarship regardless. Your family’s reputation is already ruined.”

  “It was worth a shot,” Eliott shrugs, “but I’m sure we can work something out. After all, I’m not like the others you’ve capt
ured so far.”

  “Pray tell.”

  “This is my first offense. There was no other way to get your attention without tipping them off. Calling anonymously wouldn’t have worked, since some of them are working the 911 lines.”

  “Who are... they?”

  “The serial killers, of course. All of them were once nice people, a few of them friends of mine. Something happened to them, man. Something had changed them, and I’m certain that whatever did it had too much of a hold on them to listen to reason. And I think I know what it is.”

  “What? What is it?”

  Suddenly, the door opens to reveal a tall middle-aged man in a dark gray Armani suit walking in. His brown hair is slick back, several strands gray, and his stern face had a few wrinkles to the forehead. He stares hard at Raiden with steely blue eyes, the former resisting the urge to groan in annoyance.

  Charles Reyers. Attorney at law, and the station’s biggest pain in the ass.

  “Detective Raiden,” Charles greets without any friendliness, “I will be representing Mr. Lurken. We’re done here.”

  “But I-“

  “Mr. Lurken,” Charles cut him off, “As your lawyer, I advise you not say another word. Your parents are waiting outside for you.”

  “Fuck,” the medical student curses and leaves the interrogation room, casting a quick pleading glance to Raiden. The police detective couldn’t do anything now, not without Charles preventing Eliott from telling him anything else.

  Still, what Eliott had said gives him a thought. If the serial killers had all changed at the same time, they must’ve had contact with the Carrier. And, if his hunch is right, the Carrier is meeting them at the hospitals.

  The question now is... what form is the Carrier posing as? And which hospital?

  * * * *

  "There," Tom sighs as he places a picture frame on a wall, "All done. Do we really need to repaint the whole house, Samaria?"