Epistle of the Damned

by M. Lee Mendelson

  “Four-thirty dispatch, four-twenty-two is performing CPR on the child.”

  “Dispatch copy, CPR in progress.”

  Within a few more seconds, there were multiple units on scene. Melissa Glanz ran over to help, “Oh my God, Mike, you’re bleeding!”

  He was bleeding from his right thigh where a round had struck him. “We got this, Mike. Go sit down!”

  “Four-thirty-one dispatch, we need another rescue to respond to the scene, we have an injured officer. Four-twenty-two was hit.” Mike sat down and watched in silence as his comrades attended to the little girl. He broke down and cried, not from pain where he had been hit, he never felt that; but from the sight of that beautiful, innocent child lying there motionless.

  As his fellow deputies attended to him until the arrival of the ambulance, Mike thought, what could I have done differently? I should have done more! Please be okay, sweetheart. Please God, let her live!

  The first ambulance arrived, and the crew declared that the girl had a good pulse and that she was now breathing. Mike breathed a sigh of relief as they rushed her from the scene via medical helicopter.

  The paramedic attending to Mike told him, “You’re lucky, brother. It looks like it just nicked your thigh. It may not even need stitches, but you should let the ER doc check it.”

  Mike said, “I don’t want to go anywhere right now.”

  The medic told him, “Okay then, let me just clean it up and wrap it for you. Just get it checked out later. I’m glad you’re okay, brother.”

  In all the activity and the adrenaline rush, Mike never realized that he had been hit. He thanked the medic and turned his attention back to the suspect.

  He thought, What kind of monster was this asshole?

  Sergeant Constantine came up to him. “You okay, son?”

  With a distant gaze Mike responded, “10-4, Sarge.”

  “Funny, you don’t look okay.”

  “It’s just a nick, sir. I’ll get it checked out when we finish up here.”

  “You did a hell of a job tonight, Mike. Paramedics said if you hadn’t gotten her out of the trunk when you did, she wouldn’t have made it.”

  “Thank you, sir. I just can’t imagine what she must have been going through.”

  “I’m glad you’re physically okay. I guess that’s one way to spend your last shift with us on the road. You certainly finished with flair, didn’t you?”

  Still with a blank, expressionless gaze, Mike nodded and said “Uh-huh.”

  After about half an hour, Mike had calmed down. Word had gotten back that the girl was going to make it.

  By this time, he had collected his thoughts and his new colleagues from Major Crimes were now on scene.

  Lieutenant Peterson walked up to Mike. “How are you?”

  Trying not to show emotion, Mike said, “I’m better now, sir, thank you.”

  “Good. Of course, after this you’re gonna enjoy a little well-deserved vacation. I suggest you take that time to relax. Listen, this is tough, I’ve never been in your position, and I can only imagine it must be very surreal.”

  “So, what do you think this was all about, Lieutenant?”

  “The little girl’s name is Suzy Shinner. She was abducted earlier tonight from her house in Brandon.”

  “You mean this was the girl in the BOLO from earlier?” Mike asked.

  “That’s her. Great catch. It appears that this guy broke in and took her from her bedroom while the parents were asleep in the next room. Thanks to you, she’s going to be okay. Come with me, I want to show you something.”

  The two walked over to the suspect. “This scumbag’s name is Jeremy Pickford.”

  Mike could now see some of the tattoos on Jeremy. Across his upper chest was tattooed ‘S A T A N’ in fancy script. He had tattoos of pentagrams and demons on both of his arms.

  “It appears that this guy was part of some sort of local satanic cult. Did you look around inside the trunk?”

  “No, I just grabbed the girl after she stopped breathing.”

  “Come look at this.”

  They walked over, and inside the trunk were several objects that sent a cold chill up Mike’s spine. Among the trash and other debris in the truck was a dagger. The dagger’s handle appeared to be made from a bull’s horn. Inscribed on the horn was the picture of a Minotaur-like creature. It had a man’s body with a bull’s head. There was a jar that had a thick red liquid in it, marked “bull’s blood” on the label. There were five black candles strewn around the trunk as well as a black shroud with a red pentagram sewn onto it.

  Lieutenant Peterson explained that this had all the makings of a ritual sacrifice. There was one candle for each point of a pentagram.

  On the cover of a pamphlet in the bottom of the trunk was a picture of a demon, a Minotaur-like creature. Across the top of the pamphlet it read “The Moloch Society.”

  Mike’s mind flashed back to the motel room and the image of that dark figure in the window. He broke out into a cold sweat.

  “Are you okay?” asked the Lieutenant.

  “Huh? Oh yes, sir. This is just some creepy shit.”

  “Yeah, we’ve recently been having a wave of occult-related crimes. They’ve become more prevalent over the last five years, and getting worse. But this is the first time that I know of where a child may have been the target of a sacrifice. Usually they have been sacrificing cats, and some dogs, but until now no humans, at least not that we’re aware of. They’re becoming a big part of what we’re dealing with in Major Crimes. I have researched other communities in the state who don’t seem to be having these same issues. I’m afraid we may be dealing with a major cell of some type of secret cult, apparently devil worshippers. Think you’ll be able to handle this shit?”

  Mike said, “Wow, that is some creepy stuff. Against my better judgment, I’m in. Anything I can do to prevent this kind of thing from happening again, I’ll be more than happy to do.”

  “Good, I’m glad to have you on board. You’ll get probably two weeks paid administrative leave, and meanwhile the shooting review board will do what it has to do. I’m not worried. Looks like a clean shoot to me. You just take this time to rest up. If you need anything at all, you call me.”

  “Will do, sir. Thank you.”

  As was the policy, Mike was required to turn in his handgun that he had used in the shooting. He was issued a loaner, however, until the review board completed its investigation.

  Mike talked with a counselor for a few days, then took some time to go and visit Nancy.

  “Oh honey, I was so afraid when I heard what had happened. But I’m so proud that you could save that sweet little girl.”

  Mike was in a safe place now, away from his peers. Home with his mom, he could allow himself to show his emotions. Nancy held her tough young man in her arms as he sobbed. She could feel the intensity of his emotions, and was proud that he could be such a brave man with such a sweet heart.

  “Let it go sweetheart, you’re safe now. Let it all out.”

  Let it out he did. He laid his head in Nancy’s lap and fell asleep after a good long cry.

  When Mike awoke, he was lying alone on the couch. Nancy was cooking in the kitchen. He went in and said, “Smells good, Mom.”

  “Well, I hope you brought your appetite. It’s your favorite, lasagna.”

  Mike always loved the way Nancy made her famous vegetable lasagna. It was the tastiest indulgence with a healthy twist. She would always make it for him on special occasions.

  At dinner, they talked and Nancy asked, “So when are you going to find that someone special, Mikey?”

  “Why? Are you anxious to be a grandma?”

  “Lord, no,” Nancy replied. “I just worry about you being alone, that’s all. And if I happen to become a grandma in the process, I guess that wouldn’t be so bad.”

  “Between work and school, I don’t have time to date anyone seriously right now.”

  “I worry about you working so
hard, honey. And this whole shooting thing really troubles me. I lost your father. I can’t stand the

  thought of something happening to you.”

  “I know, Mom. That whole scene did a number on me, too. But now that I’m moving up to detective, I shouldn’t have to be exposed to as many threats on the street.”

  “I’m grateful for that. I’m also so very proud of what you did for that little girl. All the articles are calling you a hero, and saying that she would have died if it weren’t for you.”

  “I was just doing my job,” Mike said humbly.

  That night, Frank called Mike. “Hey there, my heroic little douche bag.”

  “Hey there Frankie, it’s good to hear from you.”

  “You’re all over the news up here, bro. I’m pretty damn proud of you, man. But remember, you promised me you’d be safe.”

  “It’s all good, Moose. I’ll be wearing a suit here soon. The most dangerous thing I’ll face is my leg falling asleep from sitting at a desk too long.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  The two old friends talked for a couple hours and reminisced before Mike turned in for his best night’s sleep in almost two weeks.

  At the end of the week-long, invigorating visit home, it was time for Mike to get back to Florida so he could return to work and school.

  When he returned, Mike learned that he had been exonerated in the shooting. He was notified that he was going to receive the Sheriff’s Gold Star, the highest award given to deputies for bravery above and beyond the call of duty.

  He had been cleared by the department shrinks to return to duty, and was set to report for his first day as a Major Crimes Detective.

  Mike reported to headquarters, where the Major Crimes Unit was located. He was greeted by Lieutenant Peterson. “Everyone, you know Mike Carson. He’ll be working with us from now on. I’m gonna have you shadow Robert for a while. Rob, I want you to bring him up to speed. You can start with the Pickford case. Are you okay working that case, Mike?”

  “Yes sir, Lieutenant. I was hoping I would get to work on that.”

  “I figured you would. Rob will get you going. Good luck, you two. Let’s get these freaks.”

  “Hey there Mike, Robert McDougal,” Robert said while holding out his hand. “Glad to have you on board, buddy. Great job with that Pickford character.”

  “Thanks, Rob.” The two shook hands.

  After roll call, Robert was going through their procedures when Sergeant Smith called out, “Okay ladies, I need all hands on deck for this one. We just got a report of a homicide. Rob, you and the new guy will take the lead. Everyone else, get out there and assist. Welcome to MCU, kid.”

  “Wow, a homicide right out of the gates. It took me six months before I got a homicide. You don’t mess around, do you? Let’s hit the road,” Rob said.

  They arrived at the home of the murdered subject. By first appearance, it appeared to be a drug related incident, but only a thorough investigation could prove or disprove that theory.

  They walked into the bloody scene. The victim, a white male in his twenties, had been gutted. His intestines lay strewn about on the floor from the lower half of his shirtless abdomen. On the coffee table there was a scale, and an empty plastic bag with white residue that would later test positive for cocaine. Cash was scattered about on the table and floor.

  “The victim—you recognize him?”

  Mike did recognize him. He had arrested him for possession of narcotics two years ago during a traffic stop.

  “Yep, Phillip Lugowski. He was a real piece of work. I busted him a while back for possession with intent to distribute.”

  Philip was a well-known local drug dealer who had a rap sheet a mile long.

  Mike said, “This doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Me either, partner. I dealt with him when I worked narcotics. I’m actually surprised he lasted as long as he did. He hung around some unsavory characters.”

  The rest of the day was spent interviewing neighbors while crime scene technicians processed the house for evidence. The neighbor interviews produced a lead on a vehicle. One neighbor reported seeing a black, four-door vehicle speeding away from the scene around five o’clock in the morning while she was letting her dog out. She reported that this was nothing unusual because there were always cars coming and going from that house all hours of the day and night. “I think he was dealing drugs,” she commented.

  “Did you hear anything prior to that? Any fighting or screaming?”

  “No, I didn’t hear anything. I’m sorry.”

  Rob replied, “That’s okay, ma’am. You’ve been very helpful. Thank you.”

  When they finished their interviews with the neighbors, they went back inside to investigate further. In the house, Mike saw something that alarmed him: a shrine in the closet of the master bedroom. It was an altar to worship Moloch, with a picture of the same bull-headed demon from the pamphlet in Pickford’s trunk above the altar. Mike was troubled, but kept his cool. The altar was a black, shroud-covered table with a single black candle centered inside a red pentagram, and a dish with what appeared to be bones of some small animal. It looked like cat bones.

  “What is it, Mike?”

  “It’s this Moloch thing. This is the second time I’ve seen a reference to this thing since Pickford. I wonder if there’s some kind of connection.”

  “Who knows? Take a lot of notes. We’ll look into it.”

  Over the next several months and on his own time, Mike searched in vain for leads on the Moloch Society. They were apparently very well organized and secretive; no one would talk about the group.

  THE DARKEST HOUR

  A fter a month, all the Major Crimes Unit detectives and supervisors came to the same conclusion, that the Lugowski murder was in fact a drug deal that had gone bad. It was determined that the rest of the case would be turned over to Narcotics. Their investigators would spearhead the investigation to develop leads on suspects. Major Crimes would take back over once suspects were identified. Mike never could make a Moloch connection, even though his instincts told him otherwise. Eventually, due to a heavy caseload, he would have to write it off as a coincidence, even though he didn’t believe in coincidences.

  Mike worked side by side with Robert for six months. He was eventually cleared to take the primary role on cases by the Lieutenant. His first big case was a nightmarish child abduction that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

  January 28th, 2002, 4:03 a.m. Mike received a call from Sergeant Smith. “Carson, I need you to respond to 27 Eagle Circle for a kidnapping. It appears that someone broke into the house and abducted a little girl. Her parents are Paul and Melinda Rollins. Crime Scene should already be there. You’re going to be lead. I’m gonna send you a couple more guys to assist you.”

  “Got it, Sarge. I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

  “Okay, get there ASAP. The clock is ticking. I’ll be out there shortly as well. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Will do, Sarge.”

  Mike quickly got dressed and left the apartment. While driving to the scene, he recalled the little girl in the trunk, Suzy Shinner, who was abducted from her house in the middle of the night as well. He shuddered as he recalled the cult connection that case had. Knowing that the Pickford case most likely would not have ended well, he silently prayed that this was not another cult abduction. Mike could handle just about any type of crime scene, but he struggled with the ones that dealt with kids. He accelerated to get there as quickly as he could.

  4:29 a.m. Mike arrived on scene. The scene was illuminated by the bright strobe lights of the half dozen patrol cars parked in front of the residence. He exited his unmarked vehicle and was greeted by a familiar face, Sergeant Constantine.

  “Mornin’ Mike. I’m afraid this isn’t looking very good.”

  “What happened, Sarge?”

  “Around 3:15, we received a call from the mother, who was hysterical, saying that her daughter
was not in her crib and was nowhere to be found. She believed that her daughter had been abducted. The first unit on scene was Miller. I arrived shortly after. The first thing we did was check every inch of the house. During our search, we found a rear window opened in the family room and footprints in the carpet. I backed everyone out and that’s when I called for you.”

  “Was a bloodhound called out?”

  “Yes, the hound tracked from here to just around the corner and stopped. We believe that a car was used to get away.”

  “This is starting to sound all too familiar, Sarge.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “Which one is Miller?”

  “Miller! Detective Carson wants to ask you some questions.” Miller was a newer deputy with one and a half years on the job.

  “How are you doing, Miller?” asked Mike.

  “Good, sir.”

  “Tell me what you have so far.”

  “The girl’s name is Amanda Rollins. She’s a four-year-old Caucasian with blonde hair and blue eyes, approximately three feet tall. Last seen wearing white pajamas with pink teddy bears on them. Her date of birth is 12/16/1997.”

  “Have you already issued a BOLO?”

  “Yes, sir. She’s been entered into NCIC.”

  “Have you been able to canvass the neighborhood and interview neighbors yet?”

  “No sir, I haven’t had the opportunity yet.”

  “Okay, I have more detectives coming out. We’ll interview the neighbors. Do me a favor and just keep the onlookers away.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  “Oh, by the way, good job Miller. Thank you.”

  Mike asked Sergeant Constantine, “So has Crime Scene found anything yet?”

  “No, they’re still inside.”

  “Okay. Thank you, Sarge. I’m going inside to get a layout.” Mike entered the residence and spoke with the Crime Scene Tech.

  “Any prints?”

  “No fingerprints. It looks like they wore gloves. We have a partial shoe print on the tile floor by the front door, and I have several shoe impressions in the carpet that don’t match anyone on scene. Looks like a size twelve shoe, but that’s all we have so far.”