by Marcus Brown
“Yes, Chief,” she said, “I’ll see you then.”
“That was brief,” Trey said, looking worried.
“He wants to see me in an hour. I’m sure he’s saving the ear bashing until he gets me face to face. I swear to the Goddess that when I find out who is leaking this to the press, he or she will beg for death.”
“I wouldn’t let the press quote you on that,” Trey joked.
“I best get moving. I need to tell him about the eyeball, so I might as well kill two birds with one stone.”
Trey’s desk phone rang.
“Dembélé speaking.”
Tabitha walked toward the door, turned and waved.
Trey placed his hand over the receiver and beckoned her back toward him. “Hang on, Tabitha,” he whispered, “you’re gonna want to hear this.”
He went back to the phone call. “Okay, secure the scene. I’ll be right there. Chief Inspector Worthy will be accompanying me. Let her guys know, will you?”
“What now?” Tabitha asked.
“The triplets – they’ve been found dead on the common behind The Flying Broomstick pub on Watchers Lane. From what I’ve just been told about the state of the bodies, it appears to be the handiwork of our Dark Magic Murderer.”
“Shit, that’s all I need. The press already thinks our killer is some supernatural nutcase, and then he goes and dumps the bodies behind a pub with that name.”
“The killer’s trying to tell us something,” Trey said. “I wonder what little surprise he’s left for us this time around?”
“Come on, we’ll go in your car,” Tabitha urged.
*
Trey pulled up, immediately horrified by the amount of people in close proximity to his crime scene.
“Oh, shit,” Tabitha said. “The press are already here. Bloody vultures,” she spat.
She jumped out of the car and ran over to the uniformed officers trying to hold the crowd of spectators and journalists back.
A strange feeling passed through her, something she’d never experienced before. Like a jolt of electricity. Tabitha could sense magic, she could swear to it. A feeling the killer was closer than he or she ought to be, but she had more pressing matters to deal with than her own intuition.
The press’ cameras flashed, all of them trying to get the best picture possible of her at the crime scene. She dreaded tomorrow’s papers. The last thing she wanted was to be splashed across the front page under a misleading headline.
“Get them further back. Now,” she yelled to one of the attending officers. “Or I’ll hold you all responsible for any contamination to the crime scene.”
“Come on folks, you need to move further back,” one of the officers shouted, ushering them back like a herd of cows. “Further than that. You heard the lady.”
Tabitha moved forward quickly. Five members of her team were stood in a circle, obviously trying to shield the bodies from the intrusion of the press’ cameras.
“What do we have, boys?” Tabitha asked.
“It’s not good, Ma’am,” Jack Davies, one of the more senior members of her team replied. He looked deathly pale.
They stepped aside and she stopped abruptly, not expecting to be greeted by such a gruesome sight.
“Oh, my Goddess,” she whispered to herself.”
“Sorry, ma’am, you were saying,” one of the officers asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” she replied, focusing on the three young ladies lying on the ground.
She could see their eyes had been removed and wanted to throw up.
Even glancing fleetingly, she could see there was a difference to the way the bodies were staged.
The dead sisters lay side by side, but from what she could see, it looked like their hands had been sewn together by some sort of thick darning material, possibly the same used to sew the mouths shut. The significance of this barbaric act wasn’t lost on her. The killer wanted to show the closeness of triplets.
She crouched down to get a better look and her suspicions about the hands being sewn together were confirmed.
“That bastard,” she whispered angrily. “I’m so sorry this happened to you,” she said to the girls, “but I promise, I’ll find whoever has done this and make them pay.”
In ten years, she had never cried at a crime scene, but she couldn’t help it. Tears poured down her cheeks.
Feeling exposed and angry with herself for showing emotion on the job, Tabitha wiped the tears away with the sleeve of her coat, turned and shouted instructions to Trey and the officers at the scene.
“We need to get the tents up, now,” she ordered. “And,” pointing to the ever-growing congregation of reporters, “make sure those scumbags are kept as far back as possible. Any problems, arrest them,” she barked.
*
He stood and watched as she approached his latest works of art. Gripping Miriam’s hand, he turned to her and smiled knowingly.
He’d felt a surge of electricity as Tabitha approached and wondered if she’d felt it too.
This was their best kill yet, and if his last little gift hadn’t convinced the Crockworthy sisters they were being watched, soon they’d have incontrovertible evidence. He’d left the little works of art for them to find and he wished he could be a fly on the wall when they were discovered.
“Come, Miriam. It’s time to go home.” He walked away from the scene.
She followed close behind, wringing her hands together.
“I need to stop at the supermarket,” Miriam said, “and get some bleach. I used the last of it earlier today.”
He looked down at her red raw hands and smirked.
Chapter Thirteen
“Hello,” she said, banging the counter frantically, “my daughter is in the car. I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but she’s been violently sick for the last two days and doesn’t have the strength to walk. Can you help me please?”
“What’s your daughter’s name and age,” the receptionist at the Accident and Emergency Department at Arrowebrook Hospital asked.
“Melissa Walker,” the woman replied. “She’s just turned nineteen.”
“And your name is?” the receptionist asked.
“I’m Emily Walker, her next of kin. We don’t have time for this. Please, can somebody help me?”
The receptionist picked up the telephone and a minute later a porter rushed through the doors with a wheelchair.
“This way,” Emily shouted as she dashed through the electric doors, heading to her car.
The porter followed and took one look at the unconscious girl in the front seat of the car.
“Wait there,” he said, looking concerned. “I’ll be right back.”
He rushed back inside and reappeared a minute later with a colleague. He was pushing a trolley and his colleague pulling it.
“Help her, I don’t think she’s breathing.” Emily screamed.
The porters pulled Melissa out of the front seat and got her onto the trolley, rushing her inside and through the double doors.
She wasn’t breathing and had flatlined.
“No heartbeat. Get the crash team in here.”
The attending nurse pressed the alert
Emily almost collapsed when the doctor confirmed her daughter’s heart had stopped.
Moments later, the crash team flew into the room and surrounded the bed.
“Help her,” Emily screamed.
“Wait outside please,” one of the team said, gently pushing Emily into the corridor.
*
For an hour, Emily watched through the small gap in the blinds as the team of doctors and nurses worked tirelessly on her daughter.
It was her worst nightmare.
Melissa was her only child. Emily couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of losing her. A parent wasn’t supposed to outlive their child.
She paced the small corridor, nervously biting her nails, fixated on the goings on inside the sterile looking room.
Emily
held her breath as she noticed one of the male doctors look up at the clock, move away from the bed and walk toward the door.
He came around the corner, a grim expression on his face.
“Mrs Walker?” he enquired.
“Yes, that’s me. Is my daughter okay?”
“My name is Doctor Lee. I’ve been looking after your daughter.”
“When can I go in and see her?”
“If you don’t mind, let’s go somewhere private and talk first.”
He gently touched her elbow and guided her to a room on the other side of the corridor.
“Take a seat please, Mrs Walker.”
“My Mel, is she okay?” she asked, worried for her daughter. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“I’m so sorry, Mrs Walker, but there was nothing we could do to save Melissa.”
“When will she wake up?” Emily asked.
“I’m so sorry, but your daughter had already gone. We tried everything we could, but it was too late.”
“No, she’ll be okay, just wait,” Emily croaked.
The doctor moved and sat next to Emily, taking hold of her hand. “Do you understand what I’ve just told you, Mrs Walker?”
“My Mel,” she repeated. “No, you’re wrong. Go back into that room and you’ll see.”
“I’m so sorry,” the doctor said again. “There’s nothing we can do.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Mrs Walker, is there anybody we can call to come and be with you?”
Emily glared at the doctor, desperately hoping he was wrong, or it was just some sort of sick joke.
His eyes told her the truth she didn’t want, and she dropped to her knees and screamed.
Chapter Fourteen
The sisters were having a drink in the midday sun on the rear garden patio.
The warm air was lovely and just what they needed to try and relax after the recent events.
It was just the right kind of weather that would allow them to take a dip in their heated outdoor pool.
Talia was looking glamorous in a hot pink bikini and matching designer sunglasses, whilst Tamara and Tabitha wore different coloured bikini tops with matching sarong.
It wasn’t long before the topic of conversation turned to the recent murders.
“But I don’t think this has anything to do with Numen.” Tamara stated.
“What makes you think so?” Talia asked.
“It’s too sophisticated. Numen wouldn’t go to so much trouble to get back at us. No, the more I think about it, whoever it is murdering them enjoys what he’s doing. It’s more than just revenge, I can feel it.”
“Everybody keeps referring to the killer as a he. Why is everyone so sure it’s a man doing it?” Tamara added.
“I don’t know, Tammy. In my job, I see the worst humanity has to offer for both men and women, but I don’t have the faintest idea -- I wish I did.” Tabitha replied. “I’m waiting for Trey to come back to me with his findings on the triplets, and then I’ll know more. I doubt it will yield any clues as to the killer’s gender, but the more murders we discover, the more clues the killer wants to leave us. It’s just a matter of time before he, or she slips up.”
“He’s taking his time with this one though, isn’t he? I detest waiting,” Talia said impatiently.
Tamara looked fit to burst. “Three young girls have been murdered, Tally. I know it’s going against your nature, but try and find some heart in that swinging brick of yours.”
“You know damn well I didn’t mean it like that. I feel for the girls and their families, but Tabi is the one who decided to go into the police, not us. And now we’re being dragged into this mess because she thinks Numen has found us.” She looked at Tabitha. “I think Tammy is right and it’s nothing to do with him. I just think there’s some sicko out there somewhere, and this is all just coincidence.”
“We’ll see,” Tabitha replied, her sister conveniently overlooking the eyeball on their doorstep, but she had a bad feeling these murders were directly connected to the three of them.
Tabitha’s phone began to vibrate on the glass garden table.
“It’s Trey,” she stated, setting her glass on the table and picking the phone up, pressing the answer button.
Tamara and Talia looked at one another.
“What have you got for me, Trey?”
*
Tabitha ended the call and stood up. She’d lost all the colour in her cheeks.
“What is it, Tabi?” Talia asked.
“I’ve got to go, but I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Tabitha said
“For Goddess’ sake, Tabi, you can’t run out on us without a word. You’ve gone the colour of boiled shite, so whatever you’ve just been told must be bad, and if it affects us, I wanna know, now,” Tammy added.
“Okay, fine, but I have to be quick.” She sat down again. “Trey’s completed the autopsies on the triplets and believes it to be the same killer, same carvings on their chests, finger and toe nails were removed ante-mortem. Heart, liver, kidneys, lungs and eyes were once again removed post-mortem, thankfully, but the killer left clues for us once again.”
“And?” Talia asked, “I hate it when you pause like that.”
“It’s fair to assume our killer is a tad artistic ‘cos he left origami in all three girls’ ocular cavities.”
“Oh, no. Not the eye thing again,” Talia said, looking like she was going to vomit. “What is it with killers and their obsession with eyes?” She picked up her Long Island Iced Tea and took a big gulp.
“It gets worse,” Tabi interrupted. “The killer left origami in the shape of witches’ hats in the cavities.”
Tabitha looked at their faces as she relayed the news.
“By the Goddess,” Tamara said. “It can only be Numen -- you were right.”
“That’s it, we’re all done for,” Talia added. “After all these years, he’s finally escaped and is coming for us. We’ll be next, you mark my words.”
Tabitha got to her feet once more. “Now don’t jump to conclusions you two. I gotta run and meet Trey then check in with the chief. Whilst I’m gone, I want both of you to consult the book and find out anything you can, no matter how small, okay?”
“No, it’s not okay, Tabitha. We both have jobs and lives to lead as much as you do. I need to go into the office at some point today or my boss will disembowel me. I can’t work from home forever.” Talia was livid. “He’s already furious I missed the conference call the other day.”
“Tell the misogynistic arsehole to go fuck himself,” Tamara said, drawing gasps from her sisters.
“Tammy, do you mind?” Tabitha said, shocked by her sister’s foul language.
“Sorry, Princess Prudish, but sometimes circumstance calls for bad language. How would he feel if somebody left him an eyeball on his doorstep?”
Tabitha grabbed her phone from the table and turned away. She didn’t have time to argue with her sisters and would consult the book herself when she eventually found the time.
Chapter Fifteen
Miriam slammed the phone down and stomped into the front room, her face like thunder.
He looked up at her, wondering what had caused her mood to change in a matter of minutes.
“What’s wrong, Miriam?”
“I’ve got to go into work today. Mrs Walker just called me. Her stupid daughter has only gone and died on me, and I can’t get anybody else to cover, so muggins here has to go in.”
He didn’t care about her staff issues.
“That comes with being mistress of your own establishment, my love. Fret not, we’ll spend a nice cosy evening together and make plans for our next victim.” He rose from the comfortable arm chair nearest the window and held his arms out to her. “Come on, give me a smile.”
Her cold hard stare suddenly turned into a smile.
She rushed into his arms and he stroked the back of her head.
“Now, come on, you’ve got a business to r
un. Go and bathe, then get yourself ready. We can’t survive on fresh air, and besides, you’ve got a new batch of pies to make.”
“Oh yes, I forgot about that. Remind me to take the meat out of the cellar freezer before I go.” She skulked off toward the bathroom.
When she was out of earshot, he made his way to the cellar.
“Stupid ugly bitch,” he said, opening the large white chest freezer and retrieving the filling for the pies.
He was pleased she had to go to work. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to cut her throat. But, she had her uses, and this house was tucked out of the way with no nosy neighbours to contend with.
Sooner or later he’d have to leave the comfort of her home. Plan B was already set in motion.
Tonight, though, he’d make a fuss of her and prepare dinner for when she arrived home. He knew how much she liked to come home to a prepared meal, it made her feel special and like somebody actually cared for her.
He didn’t care for her at all. She was a pawn in his game, but for now, she would do, if only to satisfy his increasing carnal desires.
Yes, tonight, he would make her feel special, then he would take her to the bedroom, bend her over the bed, and fuck her doggy style. It was the only way he could get a hard on.
Chapter Sixteen
Trey was sitting at his desk when Tabitha knocked on the door.
He looked up at her and couldn’t help but smile. She looked more beautiful every time he saw her.
“You don’t need to stand on ceremony here. Come in, Tabi,” he said.
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just call me that, Dembélé.”
He smiled and winked at her. “Only kidding with you.”
“Good, now what you got for me?” she asked plonking herself down in the chair opposite him.
He picked up the thick brown file and tossed it across the desk. “Feel free, but I hope you haven’t eaten today.”
“I thought this stuff didn’t affect you?” she reminded him.
“It doesn’t usually, but this is the stuff of nightmares. Our killer is torturing his victims before killing them.”
