Upon seeing this he immediately placed it back within the basket before deciding to inspect the adjacent bag also, wanting to silence his naturally instinctive feelings to flee the immediate area and finish this entire process. He hastily opened the crudely crafted second burlap bag to reveal another neatly wrapped up newspaper parcel which was also smeared in blood and bound with twine. This parcel was also strangely within a similar wooden basket which age was evident upon its well-worn exterior which was ominously also coated in dried blood. He dreaded the prospect of returning his reluctant gaze back into the whistling torso’s bag through fear of having yet more reoccurring nightmares and was eager to determine the contents of this parcel.
Before he even opened it he had a rough idea of what it might contain due to its peculiar shape and sure enough his initial guess was proven right because it contained a bloody dismembered right foot. Both these bags of horror contained dismembered parts that where relatively well preserved due to the cold weather which had given the usual flesh eating organisms no time to attack the remains further. After he had secretly said a thank you to the all-powerful for not letting natures natural forces eliminate the fleshy evidence, he ensured that there was nothing else within the second bag before he then reluctantly returned his gaze to the ghastly blood smeared torso of the first bag. He felt as though he had seen the grim results of a clinical dismemberment before and this was plainly evident upon the hacked off limbs as jagged cut marks haphazardly decorated the flesh, once again showing the grim determination of the unknown killer to conceal his crimes by making the body easier to carry.
The first bag silently beckoned to be investigated further and so he willingly opened it up again whilst he quickly took out his trusty notebook and pen and surveyed its gruesome interior. He keenly noticed that the dates of the bloody newspaper wrappings appeared to of been published only few days prior which already shed light upon the times of death and cheered up the brooding detective. He then lowered his notebook before refocusing his gaze upon the snowy lit torso’s flesh and did not notice any discernible bodily injuries with the exception of a few latent bruises from strong brush marks. These distinctly familiar markings were probably done post mortem, as they had been with the previous three homicides and he was cautiously optimistic upon seeing these because they seemingly confirmed that the killer was the same individual.
After he noted down these numerous facts he then was then surprised to see that her left arm’s hand was also still attached and well preserved for potential fingerprint identification, secretly hoping that her prints where on record like Andrassy’s had been. The consciously optimistic detective then leaned in closer to get a better look of the skin’s texture even though all his instinctive senses where yelling him to not persist due to an unspoken primal fear that now saturated his besieged mind. He doggedly persisted however and choose to ignore these natural instincts which he found to be an immense annoyance, ultimately feeling that they belonged to a bygone age when humans where still hunter gatherers on the wild plains of Africa.
He then noticed a familiar sight in that the skin was ever so slightly discoloured and had a distinctive pink, purplish complexion to it which he had initially falsely presumed had occurred specifically due to the cold weather and rigor mortis. He prodded it with his pen first and then poked it with his stubby finger for confirmation as it remained hard and tough to the touch, once again confirming that the cleanliness obsessed killer had submerged the body into an unknown chemical compound of his own devilish creations in order to eliminate all trace evidence upon it. Once again he saved the absent head area till last and yet again it appeared to have been violently torn off as opposed to being hacked off like the other missing limbs.
The gentle snow now invaded the bags interior with a heavy gust of wind and nestled upon the naked torso which naturally melted under the warmth of the detective’s breath before he then leaned back into the fresh air and slowly stood up for a moment whilst he pondered this grim find. His frantic mind raced with possibilities in an almost panicked fashion, fleeting chaotic thoughts pummelled his grey matter from every direction whilst he stood there and looked into some distant unseen horizon. He then looked around again and thought that the killer could have discarded possibly even more body parts than even he had anticipated, and over a much wider area and with this thought he then motioned to the newly arrived and just visible officer to come nearer to him.
As the attentive officer came closer towards him he recognised him as the young Cowles and knowingly smiled at him as he trudged through the immovable snow. He then spoke with authority upon his arrival “Hello Cowles! Good to see you again. Shame it’s under such familiar circumstances. Can you and your colleagues search the surrounding area because earlier the others did but not between here and Orange Avenue. I’m expanding my original search area because I suspect that there might some more hidden “ham meat” to locate!”
The serious yet confused looking Cowles then nodded in agreement before turning around to trudge his way slowly back through the snow and into the unobservable whiteout distance, determined to help the detective locate his elusive quarry. The observant detective then saw the newly arrived police wagon through the thick snow as Cowles informed them all of their grim task and, like a pack of slow moving wilder beasts, they all then slowly but forcefully began to make their way through the snow and started to comb the surrounding area for clues.
Unbelievably the relentless snow started to come down more thicker and heavily than before and an agitated Merlyo looked on in irritation as this unforeseen event could potentially hide yet more valuable clues from his newly formed virgin search teams. Unfortunately the newly drafted and unskilled police recruits that now scoured the area where a direct result of Ness’s recent anti-corruption purge of the department. Since he had become safety director two hundred officers to be laid off, sacked or replaced and this had the adverse reaction of effecting the department’s ability to conduct a well organised search as well as many other things. These “growing pains” however where a small price to pay for a clean department and Merlyo was happy regardless because even if the search may not be as rewarding as previously, at least they were all clean slate cops with good intentions and brimming with infectious enthusiasm.
As the thick snow started to fall quicker he then hastily walked back towards the burlap bags and closed them before then hastily walking back to his awaiting snow covered Ford. He effortlessly found the snow covered handle and quickly opened the door to be happily greeted by the warmth of its interior, the coffee laden saturated air and the comforting hum of the still running engine. He quickly closed the door behind him because this private and cosy retreat also had within it a thermos filled with warm coffee and a pack of his favourite cigarettes, which where conveniently accompanied by his silver lighter within the glove compartment. He took off his beanie and gloves before he frantically rubbed his hands together to generate precious heat whilst he could just about hear the unseen swarm of searching officers outside above the humming engine. The gathering crowd that where all blissfully hidden under the whiteout blanket of concealing snow could also just be heard as the snow quickly started the entomb him within his beloved Ford.
After generating a moderately acceptable amount of comforting heat he then clumsily took out his cigarettes and lighter from the glove compartment and eagerly lit one up. He then satisfactorily sipped his lukewarm coffee and sat there for a quiet moment of well-deserved contemplation as he pondered the ghastly sights that he had just seen. He let the smoke wonderfully fill up his awaiting lungs and held it within them before breathing it out again and further warming up the Fords cold interior. He played devil’s advocate within his tiresome mind and tried to see from May and Musil’s perspective that the killer was not a single person but a gang related killing which would explain the tremendous lengths to which the killer, or killers would go too to conceal the victims’ identities.
No matt
er how much he tried to see from the successful twin detectives unique perspective, he simply could not see all these murders as the act of a gang because of the torturing aspect of them. They had all be tortured for a prolonged period of time before there death and this, to him was not the hallmark of a gang or group of people but the hallmark of something more sadistic, something more individual and something more evil. Other speculative thoughts raced through his pulsating brain as he sat there whilst he was slowly being entombed within his humming automobile, white snow forever sealing him within his own personal think tank of deliberation and speculation.
He brooded for a moment longer upon the case before he then decided to turn on the radio, wanting to distract his frantic mind away from the horror scenarios that his dark mind was alarming developing. He was startlingly greeted by Zalewski’s favourite crime fighting superhero, The Shadow, whom was loudly voiced by the distinctively deep and baritone voice of the hugely popular young British talent called Orson Welles “Hahaha!... Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?… The Shadows knows… Hahaha!”
The startled Merlyo then immediately turned off the radio, irritated by Orson’s loud British accent that had unnerved him by voicing the phrase he had just spoken along with the creepy accompanying laugh. He vocalised his irritation at the disturbing sentence which had almost caused him to drop his cigarette “Jesus!” before he then nervously smoked the cigarette in an attempt to calm his already shattered nerves.
As he frantically puffed on the rich tobacco he looked at the horrifying homicide scene that was now being slowly concealed by the falling snow. He then turned his head and proceeded to squint his eyes in an attempt to see the distant officers organising themselves into search parties until he noticed an unfamiliar female figure coming towards him. The unknown female was warmly wrapped in a long, dark red coat and holding a newspaper above her head in a fruitless attempt to protect herself from the falling snow.
As the mystery woman approached the snow covered Ford he prepared himself, dreading that it may be none other than a member of the local press whom had somehow managed to escape the officer’s clutches and was looking for the latest scoop on this unsolved case. His mood had now turned sour as the woman came ever closer and he prepared himself to reply to the supposed investigative reporter with harsh aggression that would convince her that he was not willing to talk. Before she was even at the door he attempted to create his angry scowl facial expression that he could never quite fully master even with all his years on the police force and, just as he thought he had perfected it, the unknown woman suddenly began to frantically knock on the Ford’s door window. The awkwardly angry looking detective immediately rolled it down prepared himself to unleash a verbal assault but was stopped as he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was none other than a pretty but frozen Poppy’s face staring back at him through the falling snowflakes.
A surprised Merlyo then spoke as his false, angry face miraculously morphed into a genuinely warm and loving face “Poppy? What are you doing here?” The frozen Poppy quickly replied with a shaking voice and quivering jaw “I had to come and speak to you urgently, I was near the scene and heard about it on my radio!” A still confused Merlyo then spoke again with an ill choice of words “Couldn’t this wait?” before an agitated Poppy quickly replied whilst her jaw chattered and her look of expectation instantly changed into one of anger “Can you p… please let me! I… I… I’m freezing?!” Merlyo almost blushed at forgetting his manners and straight away opened the passenger door and she immediately ran around the steaming bonnet and promptly jumped into the warm interior, slammed the door quickly behind her. The nervous Merlyo then spoke with an awkwardly shaky voice because she always had this effect upon him, causing him to become clumsy with just her simple endearing presence “Sorry about that!”
This was all he could manage to come up with as he looked at her, still amazed that his ex-flame was sitting in the seat next to him after almost two years of unconsciously not associating with her. Then she suddenly spoke whilst taking off her dark red coloured mittens and clutching the warm thermos with both her frozen hands “Don’t worry about it, Wow! I’m… I’m freezing! Listen I’m sorry to intrude on you like this but it’s about Ness ok! He’s in some trouble and I wanted you to know because I think he’s going to come down on you like a tonne of bricks this week!” Merlyo looked at her confusingly and waited for a long moment as he was still trying to contemplate that she was actually here, sitting next to him and not some crazed illusion manifested by the Lady of the Lake’s haunting spectre. He was even about to suspiciously poke her with his finger when her authenticity was confirmed by the warmth from her frantic breathing upon his own dry face. He instantly lowered his probing finger, almost embarrassed at his ill-founded suspicions and spoke as Poppy gave him an odd look of curiosity “Forgive me Poppy but we’ve not spoken properly in almost a two years and now you want to talk? What gives?”
A perplexed looking Poppy looked at him in puzzlement before this look then morphed into a look of disappointment that instantly crept over her beautiful face. He had almost forgotten how beautiful she was after unconsciously avoiding her for so long, not just for his own sake but also for that of his achingly wanting heart. He had been so busy over the last two years with burying himself within to his work and investigating the unsolved homicides that he had almost convinced himself that he had never loved her. This was a fool’s folly as she had always remained an important part of his life no matter how much he tried to forget her. She appeared to effortlessly imbed herself within his subconscious and reside there, forever reminding him of moments lost and past regrets. The only lady that was in his life now was the Lady of the Lake whom dominated him and was an ever present threat to his own sanity, always hauntingly pushing him forward to solve this apparently unsolvable case. She never slept and kept him up at nights with her nightmarish games that she would play upon his tired mind, always probing him for weaknesses for which he had many.
This was another reason why he had been avoiding Poppy more consciously recently because he was attempting to forget her because she scared him due to how vulnerable she always made him feel. He was also scared of what she may think of him now and how he had let himself go over the preceding years by becoming obsessed over this particular case. He even scared himself by letting his own peculiarities slowly consume him, falling into the pit of familiarity and routine to alleviate the immense anxiety that was produced by the Lady of the Lake’s appearances. Ironically he was now more scared of being hurt by a simply rejection of her mere friendship, which he was still afraid to ask for, rather than the frightful Lady of the Lake’s terrifying spectre. He felt disheartened for feeling this way, especially after he lost a potentially beautifully loving relationship with her but he knew that we all ultimately wear two faces in public and what truly counts is what they mask.
His face masked his immense pain and regret over her lost love and just seeing her here next to him, her warm breath upon his face, already made him feel like he was falling back down into the familiar chasm of unfulfilled desire. He tried with all of his being to resist her sirens beckoning call upon his achingly lonely heart but he slowly felt himself slipping back down into her deep abyss, most shockingly of all he was willing to jump if she would only give him a reason to do so. After all this time he had almost forgotten what it was like to have a woman be near him on such a one to one basis and he missed this feeling of attraction, never knowing how much until she sat here across form him, shivering, cold and vulnerable looking. Her rosy cheeks, red lips and big blue eyes silently melted his carefully frozen heart which started to miraculously beat again and came throbbing back to life. Her golden wavy hair gently softened her round face which in turn extenuated her vibrant thick red jacket colours. Her sweet perfume lovingly saturating the interior of the Ford and consumed his within an enticing, alluring and intoxicating wave of purity. He would have loved to escape with her right
then and there, escape all this misery, pain and cold of Cleveland along with all the grisly horror that has recently come into fruition here.
He paused and looked away for a sweet moment as he not want to appear to be staring at her and so he looked out of the window at the two snow covered burlap bags that sat awkwardly against the factory wall. Seeing these sacks of horror brought him back into the harsh reality of his current situation before he turned back to her and finally spoke “I’m sorry, it’s been a very long morning and I’m not feeling at all well. I’m so very tired with this case and all the ‘complications’ that come with it. Would you like something to warm you up? Coffee perhaps? Sorry but unfortunately it’s only lukewarm or perhaps a cigarette? Whisky?”
The whisky was stored within a small flask that was concealed in his glove compartment and he tentatively leaned over to it, careful not to get near here through fear of losing himself within her alluring scent. After he quickly acquired it he then leaned back and opened it up to show her but she declined all of his gracious offers with a simple hand gesture because she simply wished to talk some more. Merlyo then nervously smiled as he took a desperately needed swig of whisky himself to calm his shattered nerves before then resealing it and placing it by his side. He then rolled down his window a little to dispose of his used cigarette before rolling it back up again and eagerly placing another one within his yearning mouth, lighting it up before taking a deep breath in and continuing the conversation which he was now rather relishing. He then motioned to her if she would also like a cigarette but she declined yet again, forcing him to eagerly inhale the blessed anxiety relieving tobacco on his own and instantly be rewarded with its positive effects.
The Noir Evil Page 14
