by Hadena James
Gabriel decorated my hotel room when we returned. His shoes were on the floor by the fridge, his coat had been slung across the bed and his body was reclined in a chair with his socked feet on the table. I glared at him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. They had been unwilling to let me smoke in the SUV. It had been a few hours since I’d had one. I could go a few more, but I didn’t want to. I headed towards the balcony.
“Uh, no,” Xavier grabbed my arm and stuck a patch on it.
“This is not the same as a cigarette.”
“You are not going out on the balcony and smoking. It’s cold and you are recovering from hypothermia. You’ll have to do with a patch,” Xavier told me.
“That sucks,” I sank into a chair and looked out the glass door.
We had exhausted a good portion of the last 24 hours dealing with Baker, his shenanigans and hospitals, ensuring that we were no closer to finding our victims or our killer. My mood sank a little. We had lost a day, a day our victims didn’t have.
“Come on,” Lucas hit my leg.
“What?” I asked him.
“It’s time to re-evaluate our torturer.” He informed me.
“Re-evaluate our torturer?” I looked at him, my head tilted to the side.
“If you are right, then my profile would be wrong,” he told me.
“Ah, I see,” I moved to the small table and sat down. My attention was still drawn to the balcony door.
It took a while to notice that it wasn’t as dark as it had been when we came in. Dark was slowly removing itself from the world, being replaced by the daylight. Not that Chicago is ever really dark. There were still street lights and lights from the El-Trains. Car headlights cast shadows around corners and onto buildings, warping the shadows, creating illusions in the light and dark. It did not improve the oppressive semi-darkness, but seemed to somehow make it worse, more dreadful. The people of this afflicted city would awake to their morning papers to find headlines like “Ten Women Still Missing in the Greater Chicago Area. Police Still Have No Clues About Murdered Woman Found Under Bridge.”
“Ace?” Lucas brought me back to him.
“Sorry, what?”
“Do I remove likes torture from the list?”
“Not in the least,” I shrugged. “There are many things about medieval torturers that aren’t known, but to remove likes it, probably doesn’t fit. We have every indication that they did enjoy their jobs, at least to some extent. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t have been able to sleep. They would have closed their eyes and heard screaming in their ears. Just because something is legal or is sanctified, doesn’t mean it is still easy to do. The average person, even in the Middle Ages, would not have been able to stomach the hands on part. That’s why there are hangman’s bags and executioner suits. You have to dehumanize the person you are killing. The same holds true for torturers, but unlike an executioner, the event or sequence of events are going to last a lot longer. Modern humans are used to going to a job they hate. They think anyone can do it. But this, this isn’t a job you can hate and do.”
“Ok, what about the rest of it?” Lucas handed me a piece of paper.
“Not sure about the gender. Male, female, still a tossup unless you can show me real evidence that a man did it. Was there semen found in the sexual assaults?”
“No, just spermacide and traces of latex, an excessive amount of yeast, and…” Xavier trailed off.
“And a condom was used.” I finished for Xavier. “So, you still can’t say for sure it is male or female.”
“What about the way they were tortured?” Alejandro asked.
“Drawing and quartering requires horses or oxen, not a lot of human strength. Impaling is a special breed of torture, but again, horses or oxen would work.”
“Yes, but they would have to be tall…”Alejandro started.
“No, you begin the impaling while they are on the ground,” I turned to look at him. “You lay the stake on the ground, then using whatever you want; you begin driving the stake in. You right the stake by tying it to a horse just below where it has been inserted in the victim. The horse moves forward, pulling the stake into a hole that has a reinforced back wall. The stake hits the wall and the bottom sinks creating a lever effect that uprights the stake. All you have to do is make sure the stake doesn’t flip or something.”
“That’s sick.” Michael spoke for the first time in ages.
“Yes it is, but effective. I always keep impaling in a special category. There are a few tortures that make all others look like holidays. Impaling is one of them.”
“What are the others?” Alejandro asked.
“The Brazen Bull, Rats in a Head cage, The Pear of Anguish, The Breast Ripper and Impaling. These were tortures that required a lot of dehumanization. The Greeks were best with the Brazen Bull. The Church with the Pear of Anguish and the Breast Ripper. Tepes with impaling. And the French with Rats in a Head cage.”
“You say the Church, why?” Lucas asked.
“Because these tortures were used by the Holy Roman Empire as well as during most of the inquisitions. The Brazen Bull, Impaling, Rats, the Scavenger’s Daughter, they were mostly secular.”
“Mostly?” Lucas asked.
“Impaling, much like crucifixion, was used by the Romans, so the Church sort of ignored it. They did it to their enemies, encouraged it during a couple of Crusades even, but for the most part, they considered it barbarian. The Scavenger’s Daughter was made in England, after Henry VIII broke with Rome. The Bull was of ancient times. These were used more often for punishment by secular governments.”
“The Maidens?” Alejandro asked.
“That is a good question. We know they were used by the Church and we know they were used by governments, but how often is a mystery. Considering the first one ever found was discovered in Germany, gives credit to the Church using it more. They were part of the Holy Roman Empire, but that doesn’t seal the deal, especially since Germany didn’t exist at the time of its use. After the Holy Roman Empire fell, it became Prussia. Prussian rulers were known for being methodical, but unfortunately, like Russian Czars, madness was always just under the surface and they were extremely religious.”
“Meaning it could be either.” Lucas said.
“Yes and probably was.” I told him, frowning. My comment about Russia had struck a chord in my brain.
“What?” Xavier asked.
“Well, I just realized that The Book of Torture doesn’t include anything Russian. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before. None of our torture methods listed have been Russian either.”
“And that’s important?”
“No, yes, maybe.” I shrugged. “The Russians were devout and Orthodoxy doesn’t forbid torture. I know it was used often by different Czars. As a matter of fact, some of them really enjoyed it. One a woman.”
“What do you mean?” Lucas mimicked my frown.
“Catherine the Great was known for her enjoyment of torture as entertainment. If it is a woman, who better to emulate? Of course, there are a few others, Catherine de Medici was pretty fond of it. She was pretty fond of murder as well. So, I thought there might be something there, but maybe not.”
“Marie Antoinette?” Xavier asked.
“No, despite her plethora of sins, enjoyment of torture, murder and/or death was not among them. For the record, she never said ‘Let them eat cake;' it had been in print for at least 40 years before she was born.”
“Historical error number one exploded.” Xavier smiled.
“Something like that,” I continued to frown.
“What is it?” Lucas asked.
“Their drugged to get out of their apartments. How the hell are they controlled after that? Are there any ligature marks? Any drugs or alcohol in their systems? Torturing is noisy and fear inspiring. Nine women have to be controlled while one is being tortured. How?”
“We hav
en’t found anything in that department.” Alejandro admitted.
“Damn,” light was blooming on the skyscrapers but still failing to light the roads and sidewalks enough to turn off the street lights.
Chapter 29
