Persona Non Grata

by D. C. Grahame

  ‘Brother that was about getting my ass to Fiji. I don’t want you to follow me. Listen to me when I say this. A defiant path is a cursed one.’ He warned. Hoping to shake some sense into his bloodline.

  But John could see the resolve in Indy. His mind-set. The mission he had set himself. It was one so determined, that it had driven him to the lunacy of wearing a skin-tight suit. Stalking criminals in the night.

  Maybe it was John’s own fault, his criminal past had influenced his younger siblings. Or maybe their father was to blame. The single most significant trait the Vinyar men shared was their tenacity and perseverance in achieving their end goal. It was what drove Frank to do the things he did. It was what drove John to plague Grace after everything that had happened. And Indy, now, to don a mask, a mask befitting the grim reaper.

  ‘I don’t condone this, obviously. But if you insist on this crusade. If you refuse to adhere to reason. Or even my animosity. Might I suggest a new direction for the dreaded and invincible Hades.’ he alluded with a mildly mocking tone.

  ‘Go on.’ Indy replied, not wanting to disrupt John’s seeming accord.

  ‘If you’re going to play hero. May I suggest finding some real monsters.’ John insisted.

  ‘You’re talking about the Worthing killer? I don’t know where to start.’

  ‘What Alfred’s not in your ear, sending you info?’ John jabbed as Indy sighed. Accepting it as the first poke in what would be a long series of Batman-related remarks.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  With Que Pasa nothing more than an insurance investigation. The city’s nightlife had quickly moved on from the grand loss. The usual weekend crowds had diffused and diverted into the venue’s rival establishments.

  Kendrick and his small wolf pack of lads exited one of the cheaper bars, now closing up in the late hours of the night. They made their way into a kebab house. Pleasantly surprised by a large number of women inside. A literal meat-market where final bids for a casual rendezvous were made. Kendrick felt the nudge of his mates, egging him on to make a move with the blonde that invited him closer with a smile. All of them acutely aware of his relationship with Grace. They incentivised him with reminders of John’s frequent visits. Of how she was making an inexcusable fool out of their alpha-lad. Kendrick considered it before pulling his buddy Nathan front and centre. Insisting he make the play instead.

  As charismatic as his good friend Ken, Nathan nudged his way to the till. Ordering a small kebab, a mere excuse to stand next to the quartet of girls. Immediately smitten by his clear, dark complexion. The lead girl reciprocated a smile, introducing herself as Beth. The boys chuckled and watched on as a Nathan did his very best to entice the girl home.

  Striking gold, Beth drunkenly invited him back to hers. Each eager for a late-night session, bidding goodbye to their respective groups. Something Beth’s girlfriends objected to with disapproving looks. Kendrick and his boys applauded their brother-in-arms leaving him to his own devices. Nathan, though arguably the most attractive, was by far the worst performer of the team. Tonight he was to add a tally to a weak record.

  Making their way down the main street and out of the inner city. The casual companions walked drunkenly to Beth’s house, stumbling at times.

  ‘So where is your house?’ Nathan asked.

  ‘It’s over there, but the quickest way is down that road.’ She noted, pointing to a dark street with little lighting. Pulling him in a different, longer route.

  ‘Why don’t we go down there then? You don’t want to get me home?’

  ‘It’s pretty dark and pretty trippy. Especially with what’s going on at the moment.’ She replied, referring to the absurdities that haunted the city’s nights. Nathan brushed the thinking aside, all in the hope of seducing her further with his masculinity.

  ‘I’m here. You’ll be all right, come on.’ He winked, wrapping his arm around her. Still heavily intoxicated. Beth found herself aroused at the thought of having sex out on the street. Only yards from her house, free of her inquisitive housemates.

  ‘Lead the way.’ She said giggly, losing balance slightly. Nathan took her hand and led them into the darkness.

  Tangled together, Nathan lost his footing, and the pair stumbled over a curb. Crashing into a parked car. In the pitch black, they giggled off the stumble before killing all sound with a kiss. Beth exhaled hard as she felt his keen, aggressive hands massage her obliques. She, in turn, wasted little time in removing his belt. Pushing him up against a wall, pulling his trousers down.

  In a squatted position, she felt his hand grip hold on her hair. Turned on for a moment, she smiled while occupied. With the physicality escalating, she winced in pain as he gripped her hair tighter and tighter.

  ‘That hurts.’ she announced, pulling away slightly.

  ‘It’s meant to.’ Nathan replied firmly.

  ‘What?’ she replied, anxious by his cold, almost sinister tone. Unable to see him in the night, she looked up. Blind to the intent stemming from above. A hard, blunt fist barrelled down and collided with her cheek.

  Dropped, she collapsed to the damp pavement, tasting blood in her mouth. She looked up to the darkness dazed, lost in the moment. Still unable to perceive anything. Another savage thump came crashing into the side of her head, knocking her out.

  With her mind now comatose and her body limp. A stimulated Nathan bent down and lifted her up from the ground. Spreading her face-down over the bonnet of a car, her legs draping over its grill. His pants still around his knees, he pulled her skirt down, ripping it in a vigorous effort. With his surroundings silent and great pleasure looming. He took hold of his anatomy and looked up at the night sky, anticipating the euphoria. Holding onto her hip as he leant forward.

  Out of the cold, remorseless silence, Nathan heard a footstep, and then from only a few inches from his ear, a voice.

  ‘Your turn.’ A deep, resonating voice announced.

  Nathan felt a blunt force thrust down against his erect member. Shrieking in pain, his agonised yelp was promptly gagged by a gloved hand that ripped him away from his vulnerable victim.

  Beth saw black, and then a flash of white. The sequence repeated itself several times before she came to. Realising the light to be a small torch passing her face. Her ears ringing and her jaw burning. She heard the sound of a woman’s voice as the light shined in her eyes for the fourth or fifth time.

  ‘Miss Jensen? Can you hear me.’ A female police officer asked, gentle and supportive in timbre. Beth awakened to see herself resting against the side of a car. Her skirt considerately laid over her pantless legs. She looked forward. Seeing several police cars and two paramedics jogging towards her locale.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked the officer still terrified.

  ‘We received an anonymous call that an attempted rape had occurred at this address. The call was from your mobile. It’s okay. You’re safe. Are you in any physical pain?’

  ‘My jaw hurts but my mobile, I have my mobile...’ she murmured, still dizzy.

  ‘It’s okay.’ the officer insisted, resting her palms on top of Beth’s, ‘the suspect has been caught.’

  ‘I think I heard... I heard two voices.’ Beth mumbled.

  ‘That makes sense that you heard two.’

  ‘Er... what... how does that make sense?’ Beth asked puzzled, struggling to come to terms with events.

  The officer knowing a picture told a thousand words, moved aside, pointing towards a second crime scene.

  Thirty or so yards away. Sat a badly-beaten Nathan, cuffed to the stem of a lamppost. His trousers still around his knees and his intimate parts on display.

  The street-lamp now operational following the insistence of the police, lit the scene. Detective Marler and Mann stood bewildered by the image.

  ‘Well, that’s new.’ Mann stated as Marler rubbed the back of his head, trying to hinder a yawn from the 4am wake-up call. A crime-scene investigator checked for a pulse, giving a nod that the young man was stil
l alive.

  ‘Do you think it’s your guy?’ The investigator asked the pair.

  ‘No, she isn’t dead.’ Marler announced, wanting to keep their agenda on the Worthing killer. ‘Jackson can take this, call him. I want to you run a separate file on that though.’ Marler ordered, pointing towards Nathan’s wrists.

  ‘On what?’ the investigator queried.

  ‘The cable ties. Who uses cable ties to restrain someone.’

  ‘Outside of TV shows. No one.’ Mann replied a few feet behind them.

  ‘Indeed. They’re too precise to use on someone resisting. Too flimsy to guarantee their long-term effectiveness.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ The investigator quizzed, now curious by the psychology rather than the physics.

  ‘Whoever used those wasn’t trying to restrain him. They knew he wasn’t waking up for a while. My dramatic take on it. It’s a deliberate spectacle.’ Marler prophesied.

  ‘Hades.’ Mann called out. ‘Dispatch said the caller’s voice sounded distorted.’

  ‘No idea. We know the weirdo likes painting a pretty picture for the polaroids he sends to the press. Maybe his eye is on our guy.’

  ‘That might be a good thing.’ Mann replied.

  ‘A guy wearing a mask even a hundred miles from civilisation, is never a good thing. This city is becoming a caricature.’ Marler moaned.

  ‘So you want to capture Hades, or use him?’ Mann asked, an inception hidden within her phrasing. Marler considered it. He remembered the words he said to John’s family about law enforcement’s practices. It all being retrospective. If this vigilante, an outlaw offered an alternative, a deterrent. Maybe, even though it went against all his rational judgement. Was worth encouraging, even for a brief moment in time. This wasn’t petty drugs. This wasn’t gunshots heard in the imperial quarter. This was innocent women being brutally raped and murdered. And not in that order. Perhaps it was time. To fight an extreme with an extreme.

  ‘Get that press guy over here.’ Marler ordered Mann. Surprising her with his eagerness to engage with the cameras, a far disparity to his usual regime.

  Now a half mile from events. Indy removed the mask and pulled out a large raincoat he had stored in a bush of a random front-garden a few roads on. Wrapping it around himself, he continued down a small avenue which led to a parked car. He climbed into the passenger seat as John watched a live news broadcast on his phone.

  ‘It wasn’t him.’ Indy moaned. ‘The nights spent walking empty streets, invading people’s privacy, for what. The freak’s still out there.’

  ‘You know, some may describe stopping a rapist a worthwhile thing.’ John reminded.

  ‘Don’t do that. You know what I mean. What are you watching?’

  ‘Marler’s talking about it now.’ he explained as the tired detective stood centre frame of John’s phone. Marler wasting little time, began his statement.

  ‘An hour ago, the KCPD received an anonymous call reporting an attempted rape at this location. Emergency services arrived on the scene to find both the victim and suspect unconscious. The latter tied to a lamp-post severely beaten. We now believe the anonymous caller was most likely the vigilante criminal.’

  ‘Making a name for yourself.’ John interjected as Marler continued.

  ‘Though we are yet to investigate fully, we do not believe the suspect now in custody, is the Worthing killer. The victim is currently stable with only minor injuries, thank God.’ he muttered as several journalists urgently posed their questions.

  ‘Detective, do you believe Hades is hunting the Worthing killer?’

  ‘We don’t know if this is the vigilante’s objective, nor for certain if this good citizen was, in fact, the vigilante.’

  ‘Good citizen?’ Indy commented as another journalist hurried a second question.

  ‘Is it possible Hades and the Worthing killer are one and the same?’

  ‘We don’t know.’ Marler replied honest and brutal.

  ‘If the vigilante’s targeting the Worthing killer. Where does the KCPD stand on the prioritisation of those individuals arrests?’ A third journalise piped in.

  ‘The KCPD does not prioritise cases. We have ample resource to tackle both crimes simultaneously. That being said, on a personal note and a view independent of the KCPD. I welcome any party with the facilities in place to deter the serial killer.’ Marler announced, stupefying the journalists that surrounded him with his subjective preference.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ Indy asked puzzled, confused by a member of law enforcement almost condoning vigilantism.

  ‘He’s desperate. With all the corruption in the department, he’s probably welcoming any help to find this guy.’ John concluded, looking at his brother, trying to read his mind. ‘So what are we going to do?’ He asked Indy, who in turn found himself now being pulled in by the city’s developing turmoil.

  ‘Kane can wait, for now. We’re going to find this guy.’

  ✽

  ‘... any petty criminal or crime-lord that preys on this city.’ The news broadcaster announced on a recording in Kane’s office. The statement caused Kane’s tanned skin to turn a slight pink. Enraged, he launched the remote control at the television screen. It’s collision distorted the image of Marler’s interview earlier this morning. Molar stood by motionless as Kane illustrated his frustration.

  ‘You’re saying this Hades is in cahoots with John and Frank. You tell me that you have him trapped in a corridor. And yet here you are, alone, with my name continuing to be tarnished.’ Kane divulged, unimpressed and absent of patience.

  Molar glared at his boss. Tired of his employer’s lack of creativity in dealing with those who rebelled against their agenda. It was surreal for him to realise that to some small degree. He actually admired the vigilante’s dynamic, thespian approach. He had long recognised that character’s like Kane were relics of a time far simpler. They had built their wealth on easier machinations, and the world had since changed. Hades’s brand had gone viral. The city feared the vigilante’s name arguably more now than they ever did Kane’s. Times were are changing and though it ate at Molar. He realised his place within this bold new world. With new-age heroes came new-age villains. Times were a changing.

  ‘I’m saying that the Vinyar boys are more than prepared to utilise new tools. To end your imperial hold over this city. They are treading water now, but soon it will be a tidal wave of fuck.’

  ‘So you wish to escalate matters do you, Gordon. Go back to putting the old school down on everyone that stands in your way?’

  ‘It’s a start.’ Molar replied.

  Kane stood up from his plush leather desk chair and made his way to his subordinate. Standing deliberately in his space. He was as tall as the young sprite warrior but much wider in mass. He moved his head to Molar’s shoulder and whispered.

  ‘I’m struggling to lead you, Gordon. I fear we are not an effective team anymore. I keep giving you orders, and those orders come with conditions. At the moment, you’re failing to deliver on both counts.’ he pointed out, retracting his head back to catch Molar’s gaze once more. ‘I tell you no civilians, shut Que Pasa down, bring John to me. You deliver four body-bags, an un-reparable pile of rubble and a weak excuse for your ineptitude. This isn’t looking rosy for your annual review.’ Kane joked with little humour in his resonance. Molar brought his head back an inch, raising his chin with a defiant expression, Kane could only smile at it. It was after all Molar’s most appealing attribute, his desire for confrontation. Looking into his penetrating eyes. Kane yielded to the thought that Molar’s development program. His apprenticeship under him was surely coming to a close.

  The boy was crude in his thinking as he was in his methods. For Kane, Molar’s uncivilised brutality represented a simpler time. Where henchman’s fought fist-fights in corridors and dropped grenades at the front doors of nightclubs. Times were a changing.

  ‘Find the man who wears the mask, capture him or kill him. Just do one of th
ose tasks I set you correctly.’ Kane said exhausted as he retreated to his desk, slumping down in both frustration and age. Molar said nothing as he accepted his task. The task of hunting the now infamous Hades.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Eva refused every one of Indy’s calls. It had been some time since the two spoke, and she was tired of his excuses.

  Indy on the other end of the stick. Knew he had done wrong and with this acknowledgement began planning his redemption. Their on-off relationship was at breaking point. And while he may have felt a rare shimmer of purpose from his newfound recreational activities, nothing compared to her company. Every moment he was with her, he would spend half of it arguing with himself over why he wasted time not doing just that.

  Armed with a massive bouquet of apologetic flowers. He set about making a formal, in-person plea for forgiveness at her doorstep. He would show little agenda, declining any potential invite for fun and games. Standing at her door merely to apologise and then to make a dignified exit. Making it clear that he was prepared to earn the invitation inside her home and to her bed again. Mainly because he was once again wearing the Hades suit under his winter clothing.

  As he made his way down the long street that separated his apartment from her seaside house. Several cars pulled up either side of the road, making way for several hurried fire engines. Ignoring the hurry at first, Indy continued to recite his excuses for Eva’s absolution.

  Looking at the iron sea on a bright day. A rare crystal blue horizon along its border. The image was suddenly obstructed by even more fire engines accelerating passed. Curious, he followed them as they turned off the street and away from the coastal road back inward to the city. Following their path, he saw a dark smoke overwhelm the skyline and a huge blaze arising from a single source. A building he knew to be full of residential apartments.

  Indy negotiated through the crowd of on-lookers, studying the apartment block engulfed in flame. To his surprise, on the concrete archway of the building’s entrance, featured a prominent diamond shaped embossment. A symbol of Isaac Kane’s ownership.