The Noir Evil

by Richard Paul Caird

  The powerful rain and wind now invaded the victim’s sanctuary as the heavy raindrops tap-danced off the multitude of tattoos that decorated the young man’s body. The wily detective then got more excited as he examined the distinctively unique tattoos which where impressively so unique that he almost knew that the identification would be resolved before he had even put pen to paper. There were six distinctive tattoos which suggested that he might have been a sailor, first of which was a cupid that was superimposed upon an anchor on the lower half of his right leg. The second depicted a flying dove under the words "Helen-Paul" which was on the inner side of his left forearm. Third showed a butterfly on his right shoulder and fourth was an arrow through a heart. Fifth was a double crossed standard of two U.S flags with the initials "W.C.G." on his inner right forearm and sixth was the distinctive cartoon character "Jiggs" which was on the lower calf of his left leg.

  As Merlyo was about to continue with his inspection he noticed something rather curious which caused him to intently look at the skins moist texture and momentarily question his recent consumption of both sleeping pills and alcohol. The famed cartoon character of Jiggs then bizarrely appeared to come to life before his very eyes as his ink markings started to abnormally vibrate and twitch a little, causing the puzzled detective to instantly drop his notepad into the awaiting puddle below. He instantly retrieved his trusty note pad and irritatingly opened it to dry it whilst closing his eyes and rubbing them with his free hand, vocalising his annoyance at his deceitful mind which was apparently yet again playing tricks upon himself “Jesus! Get a grip!”

  Over the last few years he had seen so many bizarre occurrences that such things no longer scared him but they did still have the ability to startle him and so he then leaned in closer as he focused his eyes upon the ink tattoo of Jiggs, curious of his own untrustworthy mind’s inner workings that where actively creating such phantasmagorical sights. The moving and apparently alive Jiggs then looked at the tired detective with his black ink eyes and nervously smiled at him whilst he smoked his cartoon cigar and fiddled with his tie. As Jiggs looked around the macabrely deceased body he now inhabited, he appeared to look even more alarmed than his original markings had portrayed him.

  The curious detective watched on and half-heartedly smiled as he lifted up his hand and acknowledged the peculiar live ink creation with a wave and Jiggs politely responded with his own wave back. Then the odd cartoon character appeared to get anxious as he frantically looked from side to side, seemingly not knowing where he now was. Jiggs knew that he was now trapped within this grotesque prison of dead flesh and appeared to be trying to communicate with the detective, using his ink mouth to word phrases that Merlyo could not hear.

  A large raindrop then impacted this living image, shedding its watery load which then promptly flowed unhindered down the victim’s calf muscle and onto the awaiting dirt below. The weary detective then took this momentary opportunity to rub his eyes again whilst he smiled to himself, wondering what delights his mind would create next to lighten the dark setting he now found himself investigating. Once he re-established his vision upon the tattoo of Jiggs it was just that, an immovable and statically lifeless tattoo that had long ago been inked onto the victims flesh.

  The tired detective sighed with relief, not wishing to be alarmed by unnerving sights brought on by his own troubled mind or the nefarious workings of the Lady of the Lake. After a moment he then refocussed his efforts once again on these intriguing ink markings that decorated the deceased’s body and also noticed that once again the act of killing did not take place here because the body had yet again been drained of blood. This absent blood was nowhere to be seen and what little blood there was under the body must have slowly accumulated long after his lifeless bodily functions had ceased and simply dripped out of the messy decapitation hole at the top of his body. The body had simply been dumped here after being at the Mad Butcher’s infamously unknown abattoir of death and Merlyo moved uncomfortably within the dusty dirt as he briefly imagined that such a horrid place was actually in existence.

  Knowing that such a gruesome place existed further impeded the detective’s already low opinion of humanity, further pushing him into the realms of misanthrope philosophy. After the horrible events of the last few years he had come to a sorrowful conclusion about humanity and had even begun to hate himself for belonging to such a hateful group of beings that appear to relish in spreading strife wherever they went. He then pushed his new reluctant philosophy to one side as he scanned the harsh brush mark bruises which crisscrossed the body and determined that the mysterious killer had worked for a considerable amount of time to eliminate this victim’s valuable trace evidence.

  Regardless of this however he still felt cautiously optimistic about identification because only an hour ago he had found an expensive pair of bloodstained undershorts with the initials of “J.D.A” upon them in a nearby abandoned railway boxcar. He had decided to quickly search the area himself first before he took this first initial look at the body because he knew that the killer also tended to discard other objects haphazardly around the immediate area. He had another reason to feel slightly more positive today because his partner was currently searching the nearby area where the elusive head was located only yesterday.

  On the previous due-saturated misty morning, two young boys had accidentally discovered a man’s head wrapped in a pair of trousers and close to the East 55th Street Bridge. They had been on their way for some early morning fishing by the local docks and carried with them their own homemade fishing rods until this pleasant field trip was rudely interrupted by a hidden curiosity that lay under some bushes. This unknown curiosity was contained within some lumpy blue trousers that lay trapped under a large bush and both inquisitive boys had then taken turns at amusingly poking the trousers to encourage the reluctant mystery bundle to leave its trappings.

  Both could see the long brown hair protruding from the trousers and suspected it may have been a wild cat at first until this naively pleasant theory was obliterated by the harsh and cruel reality. Both boys had a sudden shock of horror when the freshly dismembered head had finally rolled out of the concealing trousers, down the small incline and landed directly at their feet with its mouth open and eyes blissfully still closed. Both frightened boys had then screamed as the face of the victim’s head had a sleeping look upon it, as though he was not dead at all and would soon open up his eyes from his ever restful slumber. Both the reluctant discoverers had then frantically ran home, leaving there fishing rods behind them and worryingly told their parents about their disturbing catch they had caught that unforgettably gloomy morning.

  The speculative Merlyo then thought that whoever, or whatever, had dumped the body by this railroad police building appeared to be playing a grim joke in the blackest of tastes upon the bewildered police. This deviant Mad Butcher was obviously mocking them by placing the body so near this small police facility and taking immense pleasure in playing sordid mind games with the investigators. Merlyo briefly speculated upon the inner workings of such a troubled mind but soon gave up, knowing that such a thing would be maddening experience for any sane person to try to successfully conceptualize. Unfortunately his recently discovered labelled and bloodstained undershorts did not appear to match the tattooed initials upon the grim torso find that he now looked at, not fully eradicating his optimism but defiantly denting it as yet another avenue of investigation appeared to be quickly closing.

  He still however had an overwhelming sensation of foreboding about identification because even with all these identifiable markings, there was the grim possibility that this was all a dark ploy by the killer in an attempt to misdirect the investigation and lead them down yet another path of fruitless endeavour. If the killer was so careful in his attempts to clean the body then why would he leave so many apparent “clues” so obviously lying around the immediate area? His initial feelings of optimism then miraculously disappeared yet again into the fil
thy air that surrounded him because of the suspected cunning nature of this shrewd killer, whom had a knack for confounding the rational minds of the assigned detectives. He felt guilty for allowing himself a momentary moment of fleeting positivity into thinking that this most difficult of cases could have been so easily solved with a few simply clues that lay conveniently near the body which had distinctively identifying markings upon them.

  He internally reprimanded himself for allowing such prematurely naive feelings of success to permeate his consciousness, internally recognising that his frustration with this case was growing with every passing day. This unknown Mad Butcher was not some mindless maniac whom roamed the maze-like streets, clutching a meat cleaver and salivating unspeakable slobber whilst looking for his next victim. He was a man of intellect, cunning and smarts to have thought through the nefarious actions that he had committed and was most likely not noticeably insane in outward appearances. The wicked method of the victim’s untimely departure from this world both saddened the veteran detective but also angered him with an internal rage that never seemed to be sated. The Mad Butcher was a grotesque man or more fittingly, a grotesque monster, that needed to be locked him up and executed for his heinous crimes which had cast such a prolonged shadow of fear over his beloved but broken city.

  He often thought that he could closely identify with the victims’ families and many times wondered if it was best to let the families know about their loved ones cruel fate or would it be simply be better to let them live the ignorant illusion that they were still alive, yet missing. The missing choice always appealed to him because imagining that your loved one was far away and possibly living another life, created a comforting illusion that was so far removed from the tragic reality that it pleasantly invited any grieving family member to accept it with open arms. In contrast to this, the knowledge of knowing that a loved had been slowly tortured within some sadistic abattoir before being cruelly decapitated whilst being alive, was such a troubling thought that even the wily detective would have accepted the ignorant lie option over the cruel truth.

  To him these unidentified poor victims were like lost souls that were trapped in a form of permanent purgatory and by not letting the loved ones know how they met there tragic fate would sentence these victims to a permanent incarceration within this unseen, hellish realm. However there were occasional days such as this one, when he faced the grotesque reality of the hideous atrociousness of the crime in all of its visceral nature, which made him think more so with his instinctive feelings. These feelings always thought that it would be best to let the grieving family live that comforting of ignorant lies and imagine the false illusion because of its unmistakably attractive quality. The ugly and horrific truth would otherwise haunt their dreams just like the Lady of the Lake continued to haunt his from her hellish prison of purgatory.

  With the simple thought of the Lady of the Lake an icy cold wind blew a few bits of trash and dirt over the unprotected tattooed body. Merlyo’s shiny spectator shoes suddenly lost their shine as a thin layer of windblown dirt attacked his whole body whilst he held his drenched hat tightly so that it did not blow away in the wind. The vacant railway tracks then howled a ghostly and haunting tune, strangely acknowledging to the attentive detective that there could be a distant train on its way to his morbidly macabre location. The sky then become noticeably darker as the ever persistent rain continued its unrelenting and formidable assault upon both himself and his deceased companion.

  Seeing that the weather was changing for the worse and knowing that a train may soon pass on through his location, which would further upturn another fine layer of dirt into the overly saturated air, he quickly then covered the dirty sheet back over the grotesque vison. He then hastily put the two bricks back upon the sheet corners so that nature could not re-reveal the horrifically maddening latest crime of the infamous Mad Butcher. The disillusioned detective then jumped back under the nearby vacant police building’s roof and placed his wet notepad back within his coats pocket whilst he took off his wet hat again and shook it, eliminating the heavy water which had just accumulated upon it.

  Then he heard nearing footsteps through the gravel nearby and noticed a shadowy figure coming slowly closer to him from the concealing haze which pervaded all. He then saw the familiarly comforting sight of immaculately dressed and white overall wearing Gerber as he leisurely came into view with his trusty umbrella over his head and his staple Gladstone bag within his other hand. The smiling Gerber smiled a welcoming grin at the dishevelled looking detective and went straight towards his quarry which was still concealed under the dirty sheet. Merlyo silently nodded and motioned towards the sheet but did not return Gerber’s inviting smile because he was simply not in the mood for the usual social niceties after seeing the latest cruel work of the depraved killer.

  The strangely apprehensive looking Gerber’s smile soon wore off as he drew nearer to the ominous sight and kneeled, briefly looking at Merlyo for reassurance before he then removed the same two bricks that he had done to see what lay underneath. There was no comforting reassurance from Merlyo’s troubled gaze because he had none to give and after Gerber had slowly removed the two bricks with his gloved hands he momentarily reeled back in fright upon seeing the tattooed torso. Gerber then awkwardly smiled again at the silently on looking detective before he proceeded to eagerly examine the tattooed victim with a bizarre relish that only he could produce.

  Merlyo then broke his viewing of Gerber’s detailed forensic inspection as he proceeded to take out a comforting cigarette and place it within his wanting mouth. He eagerly lit the blessed cigarette and puffed on it a few times in quick succession to speed up the tobacco’s calming effects within his shaking body. All of a sudden his content jumble of relaxing rambling thoughts where rudely interrupted when he noticed two individuals footsteps coming closer towards the crime scene and through the thick, misty protective sheet of rain. The footsteps were coming from the direction of the small crowd that was so easily being held back by Cowles and his unseen colleague, and the inquisitive Merlyo then squinted his eyes in order to get a better view of the two mysterious forthcoming individuals.

  The blighting rain drizzle however remained steadfast in masking there features and so the detective voiced his observation to the occupied Gerber “I think that we’ve got company!” The preoccupied coroner was far too deep within his own thought processes to heed the detectives warning and so Merlyo ignored him and squinted some more to see the two strangers where as they finally became clearer through the rain’s natural concealing blanket. A uniformed county sheriff was coming directly towards him as his shiny new badge glinted in the gloomy ambient sunlight that pervaded all with its warming glow. His impressive Stetson felt hat advertised to all whom he was prior to his imminent arrival, instantly making his presence known as far as the eye could see. This sheriff’s hat sat unbecomingly towards the back of his head which gave the false impression that his head was amusingly larger than his body. He was followed closely by the shorter but well build, presumably deputy in toe as both men wore the distinctively brand new and pressed sheriff’s office uniforms.

  Merlyo surprisingly then heard a seemingly familiar voice coming from the taller sheriff as they came closer and made their way through the continual rain that shrouded the entire area “Hello detective Merlyo! Long-time no see huh? I’m Sheriff O’Donnell and this is my deputy, Kilbane!” The unwanted interlopers whom had disturbed his thought processes now joined the reluctant detective under his solitary sanctuary under the vacant police building. The sheriff was by now proudly brandishing his newly polished star on his upper shirt pocket, which was so shiny it almost blinded Merlyo as it glinted in what little gloomy sunlight there was.

  Merlyo now recognised the two officers as the same irritating two whom had helped him those years ago cordon off the first Lady of the Lake homicide scene. They were also the same two whom giggled whilst he investigated the crime scene and the very sam
e two whom he had found there bribes within their envelopes in his glove compartment. Those traumatic events upon that first day of this investigation where vividly recalled by him in an almost dream like way and where unforgivingly edged upon his tired and weary mind. Merlyo knew, from office gossip, that this was the very same O’Donnell whom had recently married the congressman’s daughter so he was not a man to be trifled with or taken lightly due to his new and powerful family connections.

  He took a moment to ponder the implications of potentially how he shot up through the ranks and apparently became a sheriff in such a short space of time but soon stopped this inquisitive action because he suspected that such internal speculations would only bring him yet more pain about the human society in which he currently beginning to despise. He attempted to avoid his speculative mind’s instinctively curious questions but could not help himself and pondered how they both could have escaped Ness’s anti-corruption purge of the department so unscathed? And now here they were, both defiantly standing there and proudly brandishing there new badges’ with an unwarranted and disingenuous pride.

  The passing freight train then finally roared passed the homicide scene as it roared its horn, spewing up a large amount of filth into the immediately surrounding area and causing all four men to cough in quick succession. The gloomy light then became that much darker as the newly released and upturned dirt floated within the upturned atmosphere, clinging onto whatever came within its merciless clutches whilst blocking out the ambient sunlight. The suspicious Merlyo then continued to silently smoke as he observed O’Donnell and his obedient deputy lackey whom never spoke. He choose not to reply to their greetings and wondered why they were here at all, suspicious of their motives no matter how genuine they might appear. O’Donnell was as he remembered him, a well-built man who lacked the etiquette that came with more sophisticated individuals whom had a good education and this could be seen with his slight mannerisms and in the way that he held himself. Although he now wore new sheriff office clothes, one could tell that because of his scruffy and unshaved face he was not a man whom belonged within such perfectly presented attire. He was more like an interloper whom had stolen the clothes and was putting on a false façade of respectability that was unbecoming of his true and unenlightened nature. His silver grey hair could just be seen under his hat and tricked the observant viewer into thinking that he was wise beyond his years when in all matter of fact he was notoriously anything but.