Both detectives Merlyo and Zalewski sat up front within his elongated silver machine as it rumbled along the uneven tarmac road with a skilled elegance whilst rain pummelled its gleaming exterior. The determined Ness had quietly kept his secret suspect under constant surveillance for little over a week now and unfortunately had nothing to show for it. He was still reluctant to pursue Dr Sweeney publicly mainly because of his personal connection to the congressman and lack of evidence in linking him to any of the Mad Butchers crimes. He could not afford to be wrong about the congressman’s cousin or his Cleveland career would be finished along with any political dreams he had of replacing his friend, mayor Burton and so he was purposefully delaying any police action upon him.
The famed ex-untouchable was even apprehensive about bringing him for a simple questioning because of the questions that would inevitably arise from both the newspapers and the congressman himself, whom he knew would instantly silence his cousin with the most expensive lawyer that money could buy. So it was a fruitless endeavour to even question Dr Sweeney until he had exhausted every other possible avenue of investigation and he secretly hoped that his ongoing surveillance would catch “Gaylord Sundhiem” in the sinister act of murder itself which would in turn save him lot of trouble, manpower and expense.
Recently it had been the first anniversary of the infamous shantytown burning and the press had constantly attacked him about the tragic events of that blackest of nights, which strangely seemed to him to be almost like a dream because his recollection of details was sketchy at best. The only thing about that night that resonated effortlessly through the drug fuelled opium haze that had consumed him, was the unknown and lost little girl whom longed for her mother. Her pleading green eyes memory now reflected his own shame back upon him and where a constant reminder of how far he had fallen into the arms of addiction but had also strangely given him strength to refocus his mind. He was now fully focused upon the unsolved homicides in a last ditch effort to salvage what little reputation he had left and this is why he was scared of being wrong about their new secret suspect.
The concerned Merlyo, Zalewski and Cowles were also worried that by not bringing him in for questioning or charging him, feeling that they were taking a big risk because they could all imagine what would happen if he somehow managed to get away from there surveillance team and murder someone else. The potentially mindboggling ramifications could have a massively detrimental effect upon the slowly recovering department and there individual careers but Ness had assured them all that he could not escape his constant surveillance teams and also reminded them that no new murders had occurred over this last week. So all were now cautiously optimistic whilst also acknowledging the difficulties of Ness’s delicate situation that he now found himself in.
Ness desperately needed the valuable commodity of time to build up a strong case against Dr Sweeney because there was still no other viable suspect with the exception of Frank Dolezal, whom Ness was now cleverly using as a trick to preoccupy the congressman’s unseen spies within his department. He was cunningly using Dolezal as a lure to trick these unknown spies into thinking that he was focusing all his newly found efforts upon him and a few select others, therefore taking the pressure of his secret surveillance teams of loyal Unknowns that were constantly watching their new secret suspect.
Detectives Musil, May, Shibley, Wachsman, Weitzel and even coroner Gerber had all been secretly drafted into his secretive Unknowns surveillance team due to his lack of manpower and all where on a constantly altering rotation in taking turns to watch their secret suspect. They had all managed to successfully keep the cunning Dr Sweeney within their sights over the last week even though he was notoriously tricky and elusive at times. Dolezal had now unwittingly come to represent the valuable commodity of time that Ness so desperately required and he wished to keep up this continuous effort of successful deception and clever misdirection whilst it served his purposes. Due to this he had also continued to order the surveillance of other suspects whilst keeping his secret suspect as his “trump card up his sleeve” and away from the prying eyes of the shadowy associates whom worked for the congressman within his department.
Every butcher, physician, mortician or hunter who kept unusual hours, carried large packages out of his home and was commented on as “strange” or “unusual” in any way, shape or form was fair game for the investigative teams. No matter how trivial any tip off sounded they were all ordered to follow it up with a new found vigour and urgency, further emphasizing his newly grim determination to conclude this disturbingly dark case. He also reordered the systematic scouring of medical records from the local state hospitals for the insane as well as ordering the surveillance of a number of recently discharged psychiatric patients whom fit the Torso Clinic profile of the killer, all of which bought him more valuable time. He also did this to cover his all his bases while keeping up pretences, just in case Dr Sweeney was not the Mad Butcher because he still found it rather difficult to believe that such a well learned man of his distinguished profession could partake in such a macabrely gruesome activity.
Dr Sweeney had disappointingly not done anything unusual or strange whilst being under his constantly alternating surveillance teams and this angered the determined Ness whom wanted a quick resolution to the complex conundrum of a case. He was adamant that he wished to put his efforts elsewhere such as into his neglected love life with Evaline which had continued to grow and blossom regardless, even with his recently unexpected but pleasant encounter with his ex-love. They were now even secretly living together at her expensive flat within the heart of Cleveland and he had even recently helped her with her exceptional artwork and had grown to love her ever more with each passing day. He still however did occasionally frequent the lake house to see Edna and make sure that everything was fine with her because he still remained instinctively protective of her and worried about the underworld wanting to get at him through harming his loved ones, just like they had tried to do back in Chicago.
He had even spent many nights arguing with her about hiring a bodyguard for her like he had done for Evaline but she declined his constant proposals, determining that if fate wished for her demise that it should simply be so. Edna had known about his infidelity for a while now from simply reading the newspapers and knew that for Ness to be seen at so many different social events with the same woman was no coincidence. She had simply accepted the situation for what it was regardless of all his media’s rampantly hurtful speculations and she also knew that he would soon ask her for a divorce.
She had already sadly decided to grant him his wish but was adamant that she still wanted to keep his surname and both had amicably agreed to this at the lake house on one of his recently irregular and forever dwindling visits. Edna also felt sad knowing that they had become strangers over time when they used to be so much in love back in Chicago and she also became terribly lonely on many occasions at the lonesome lake house with only her beloved six cats as company. She had slowly realised that she could never sadly give him what he desperately wanted more than anything in the world, a family of which to love. It pained her to watch him enjoying playing with their neighbour’s children and often imagined about how she may have been able to save their marriage a long time ago if she could have just given him a child but it was simply not to be and she had accepted her fate, along with the fate of their relationship a long time ago. Knowing this however still did not make it any easier for her to accept and she wished on many a lonely night that he would eventually tire of his partying lifestyle and return back to her. She had ultimately decided however that she would not beg him for that which he should give to her willingly and cried at the final and painful realisation that her marriage with him would soon be over.
The pondering Ness’s deep thoughts about these complex matters of both the fragile heart and the Mad Butcher investigation where then rudely interrupted by Merlyo’s liberal use of his silver Scarab’s insignia horn. The sta
rtled Ness was thrust instantly back into the real world as he saw some alarmed young boys, whom where previously ignorantly blocking the small street whilst playing baseball, quickly vacate the area in order to let the scary silver Scarab through. The rain banged off of the roof without remorse as the unruly road then became noticeably much rougher and less smooth as pebbles regularly impacted off the lower area of the armoured like Scarab, causing the occasional load bang to occur. The calm Ness and Cowles where both comfortably seated in the large backseat and where sandwiching the mysteriously new addition to their small team of loyal Unknowns, the alcoholic vagrant Mister Emil Fronek.
The preoccupied Merlyo drove up front and was keenly keeping an ever watchful eye there untrustworthy latest addition through the mirror as the silvered Elegant Mess sped through the maze-like twisting and turning streets of the dilapidated Kingsbury Run area. The on looking Zalewski sat up front and faced the preoccupied Merlyo in another of the Scarab’s peculiarities because the driver’s seat had its companion seat facing the driver at a right angle. This stout Scarab peculiarity of moving chairs had been done away with by Ness whom had attached all the seats in their current position to get the desired effect of making its already impressively elongated interior that much more spacious and giving it an almost small airplane type feel inside.
The varnished and rich wooden art deco table stylistically jetted out and across the rear passenger seats, unintentionally separating the back three from the two detectives up front. This famously worn table now acted as Ness’s portable office because he would often ask other work colleagues to meet him within his silver Scarab as he became more involved within the Mad Butcher case, often spending hours within his silver refuge and driving it to each of the homicide scenes in the vein hope of uncovering something new or seeing the case within a different light. Some malicious members of the department had even suggested that he was so besotted with his new stout Scarab and its lavishly decorated art deco interior that he was even sleeping within it, choosing to forgo the niceties of a woman and a warm bed for the certainty of his new silver love.
There were other noticeable oddities within the altered machine and most noticeably of these where a new silver and glass sealed art deco panel which was located nearby the steering wheel. Ness had specifically told Merlyo prior to their journey today that he was not to use it whilst driving because it commanded his newly acquired multitude of mechanical pistons which were still as yet untested. Merlyo had become so worrisome over touching the impressively decorated panel that he even worried about using the Scarab’s distinctive insignia horn upon the impressively large steering wheel, concerned that it may trigger a catastrophic fault within the complex unseen machinery which now ran throughout the mechanical beast like living arteries.
There was also a mysteriously elongated object that spanned the floor area in between the two groups of occupants which was concealed by a tightly bound leather sheet which Ness had proclaimed was simply yet another one of his many unknown additions to his beloved Scarab. This object appeared to be physically attached to the floor due to its non-movement upon the bumpy road outside and no one could be certain but its elongated shape surprisingly matched the elongated glass sunroof that Ness had recently incorporated within the Scarab’s thick frame. This unsightly floor addition had caused almost all the passengers, with the notable exception of Ness himself, to clumsily hit its hard leather frame with their shoes and caused there newly acquired and uncoordinated guest to vocalise his anger towards it.
The jacketless Zalewski knowingly brandished his holstered twin silver pistols towards the on looking Fronek whom had been inspecting the leather bound mystery beneath all their feet until he marvelled at the pistols sparkling silver design and secretly contemplated how much alcohol he could exchange them for. The scheming and untrustworthy Fronek was within Ness’s fortress of an automobile because he had only a few days earlier suggested to the Lincoln Evening Journal in Chicago that he had miraculously escaped the Mad Butcher and had lived to tell the tale. Upon hearing this startling revelation the eager Ness had immediately ordered both Gerber and Cowles to bring him back all the way to his former home and once he was covertly brought back to Cleveland he was then taken directly for secret interrogation at the department.
The interviewing Musil and May’s task was simply to ascertain if he was a legitimate witness or simply a crank whom was making a quick buck with an outlandishly fabricated story. Both loyal detectives had then eagerly told the inquisitive Ness that he appeared to have a lot of intimate details which had proved to be very enlightening because he literally not only described their secret suspect but also his places of frequent attendance. The eager Ness had then immediately decided to take Fronek along with Merlyo, Zalewski and Cowles for an enlightening ride near to Dr Sweeney’s place of work to better help him recall the traumatic events that had taken place on his mysterious nightly encounter with the Mad Butcher.
The amenable Fronek had thankfully appeared to be all too willing to tell his mysterious tale of intrigue and Ness secretly hoped that this mysteriously unexpected gift would be his key to finally charging Dr Sweeney with the murders that had blighted his city. He hoped that Fronek would easily select Dr Sweeney out of a line up if given the chance but even if he did, the problem was that he was a totally unreliable witness whom was renowned around Kingsbury Run for his drinking habits and his unrelenting appetite for apparently doing absolutely nothing. Fronek was apparently happily content to live out the rest of his days upon this earth bumming money, food or a place to sleep from his infrequent friends and this unfortunate personality trait already made Ness reluctant to follow up with a line-up that would ultimately advertise his secret investigation. Ness however was a desperate man by now and some of Fronek’s story details where so alarmingly familiar to the seasoned ex-prohibition agent that he could not ignore them or put them down to the delusions of a drunken mind.
Fronek was a dishevelled and sorry looking man whom was skinny, malnourished and had a premature receding hairline which all gave the impression that he was a man whom had long ago given up on life and himself. He also had the unbecoming trilogy of having a large nose, big chin and hairy ears which sat awkwardly upon his large head and in turn, sat awkwardly upon his frail framed and skinny body. His long ear hairs where desperately begging to be pulled from there torturous, unruly prison but his eyes where something else to behold entirely because they were intensely haunting and expressed the belief of his chaotic convictions and confusing ideas. They looked like they had seen another life on their own, separate from the frail and fragile body which they now inhabited and demanded any casual viewers immediate attention. All within the silver Scarab secretly theorised that upon seeing the Mad Butcher and escaping the clutches of death itself, his eyes where so troubled by the hideous vison of evil that they now continuously protested there ill fortune. He was awkwardly dressed in an ill-fitting clean white shirt, grey trousers and black shoes because his previous limited selection of personal dirty clothing was back at the department and being washed due to its weathered appearance from the endless nights of harsh living conditions upon the cruel streets.
He uncomfortably sat between the flanking Ness and Cowles with a lost look in his impressively vacant eyes as he actively looked out of the windows and tried to see if anything was familiar to him. The rain was coming down hard by now as the shaking Fronek surveyed the unfamiliar landscape whilst the speedy silver Scarab swiftly made its way deeper into unforgiving and confusing maze of streets that constituted the better areas of Kingsbury Run. They then bounced uncomfortably up and down through the puddles and potholes of the badly maintained roads and an agitated Fronek swore as this happened which resulted in the irritable Merlyo giving him a look of disapproval as he struggled to command the Scarab through the more difficult terrain.
Ness could see this constant irritation from the preoccupied detective and so he decided to drag Fronek’s attention away f
rom the troublesome driving of his colleague and to the matter at hand as he finally spoke “So Mr Fronek could you please tell my colleagues what exactly happened to you on that fateful night because where now getting close to the area I wanted to show you” The hesitant Fronek still looked somewhat troubled because he had not had a drink for a few days now and hated being even moderately sober, not to mention the fact that he was being purposely driven back towards the dreaded area where he had a lucky escape the infamous Mad Butcher himself.
The discomfort was evident upon his scrawny and withered face as he then slowly started to speak in his characteristic husky voice which he had developed from all the years of his perpetual alcoholism, cigarette smoking and drug abuse “I was done and out you know? Had no money and was living on the street, hungry all the time and everyday was the same because I was just scraping by to survive. The days blurred from one day to the next until one terrible night, the blackest of nights in fact, a shadowy stranger came to me from out of the darkness. That wind and rain was unusually cold that night and out of nowhere this big shadowy silhouette of a man appeared to be standing over me in the street”
Merlyo’s curious eye’s met Ness’s in the mirror as they both eagerly continued to listen to the amazingly descriptive tale that this most unsuspecting of characters was reciting. But before he could continue, the analytical Cowles rudely interrupted him with a question of his own “What did he look like?” The pondering Fronek paused for a moment and appeared to be in deep thought as he desperately tried to recall the shimmering shadowy man’s face that had always appeared to him within his mind as a dark blur with differentiating shadowy textures that ultimately mixed into one cacophony of incomprehensibleness. After this long moment of trying to comprehend the incomprehensible, he hesitantly replied “I can’t recall the facial features but perhaps it was the drink? All I remember is that I awoke to see this stranger and I think he was wearing a white shirt and brown trousers? It was dark and I could only see the periphery edges of the clothes but his face was completely shrouded in shadow. He was silently standing over me in the rain when I woke up and there’s no way of telling how long he was there prior to that. I looked up and the street light was shining from behind his head and so I couldn’t… I couldn’t get a real good look at his face even if I wanted too because it was just a blur of shadows. I do remember however that all the rain curiously stopped hitting me because he was so massive! I mean this guy was really big and muscular, you know what I mean? Oh! He did wear some round spectacles that easily picked up the surrounding light so they kind of glowed like some ‘bizarre lanterns’ and I guess you could even say that he looked like a… er? I’m not sure? Like a huge big old owl if you get me?”
The Noir Evil Page 50
