by S A Ison
A malevolent snarl crossed her face and she went back to the files she’d seen earlier on the computer. She hadn’t thought anything about them and one was for real estate. She opened that one and looked at the classifieds for homes in San Pedro, Belize. She looked at the picture of his family and knew it was a prop. This monster didn’t give a shit about his family. She picked up the photograph and looked at the woman’s face, his wife, she thought. There was a smile on her face but it was stiff and it did not reach her eyes. She knew, or suspected. The kids were older, older than what the doctor liked.
If he was thinking of leaving, Hellen didn’t think that he would be taking his family with him. She turned back to the computer and began to dig into Dr. Winter’s finances. It was easy enough; his browser history indicated his banking. She didn’t see anything and so she would go home and really start digging into the man. Bojo had mentioned donors. The way Bojo spoke of it made her think of organ donors. By then though, he was nearly incoherent. Because Ellsworth kept his empire so compartmentalized, she knew that other players farther out of Ellsworth’s inner circle would have no understanding of Ellsworth and the extent of his machinations.
Hellen sighed. She would have to extract the information from the responsible parties who gathered the human donors. She’d go after them last of all. She closed the laptop, put the DVD back, and wanted to burn the whole clinic down. She was very tempted, yet hesitated. She didn’t want to spook Dr. Winter into bolting before she could take a deeper peek. Besides, it was the DVDs that really needed to be destroyed, and once she’d taken care of him, she might try to hunt down his suppliers. Someone had given him the DVDs or she would find out how he’d obtained them. Either way, it looked like she would be busy for the next few years.
A savage smile crossed over her features. She would take care of Ellsworth and his people and then she would move on to another project.
Hell left the clinic and got in her car. She rubbed her face, sitting back in her seat and exhaling heavily. It amazed her, the incredible depravity of some people. She wasn’t surprised, she knew it was out there, but still. She would certainly take her time with Dr. Winter and she thought she would enjoy it. She could keep a person alive for many days if she had an IV and some damn good drugs.
§
Detective Richard Lure rubbed his face tiredly. His beard made a rasping noise. He scratched, thinking he needed to shave. He was getting nowhere quick. His gut told him the murders of Mike Todd and Bojo Brown were somehow connected. Mike had an extensive juvenile record and several busts in the last couple of years. However, he wasn’t anyone important, at least as far as Lure could tell. The other people in the house who were shot execution style were addicts, previously busted for DUIs or such, but nothing noteworthy. Someone had taken their time skinning Todd, so he must have been the focus of the murders in the house. Why? Had he raped someone and the husband or a father had come to take their pound of flesh?
His gaze slid over to the photographs in the murder book. They were difficult to look at. He’d never seen anything like it in his career. There was no physical evidence, no surprise. If there was anything, they had not found it. Todd’s house was a shithole and the prints lifted were numerous and some pinged off and others unidentifiable. Whoever did this job more than likely wore gloves. There was a lot of speculation that the murder was done by the cartel. Lure didn’t think so. Todd was too low on that ladder. He could be a climber and maybe he stepped on the wrong dick. Maybe he ventured into someone else’s territory and that someone sent a message? There were so many variables that Lure didn’t think this would ever be solved.
Whatever the case, the murder was performed with exceptional skill. Maybe the killer was a hunter? He himself didn’t hunt, his father had and he’d seen his father skin a deer with very little blood. The style of the murder was the same, like an animal skinned. There were no witnesses, no DNA that had come forth, no prints, and not a damn clue as to the motive. When drugs and money were involved, that was usually the only motivation needed. Was there a new player in town? He thought about Bojo and opened the book on him and glanced over the photographs.
Bojo, well, that was a little different. The murder was just as brutal and vicious as Todd’s. A young girl was found in the bed, tied up and drugged. It would seem that Bojo was a pedophile and possibly a human trafficker. The girl, Brandy Patmore, didn’t remember a lot. She’d been kept drugged and so most of what she said made no sense. She had been at the mall, flirting with an older boy and he’d gotten her a drink. After that, she had only vague indications of people and voices. Nothing substantial or concrete.
Brandy couldn’t give the number of people but she did say that there were other kids her age with her. Bojo had taken her to his apartment, but she didn’t remember much. She did remember that he fell to the floor when he stepped into the apartment. After that, she didn’t remember anything until she woke up in the hospital a day later.
Lure looked through the notes and noticed there was a bust at a warehouse. That was being investigated. Children were taken from there. They too were sedated and weren’t very helpful, he noted. He wrote down a few notes as to Bojo’s connection with the warehouse.
Had they stumbled into a human trafficking ring? Was that it? Bojo had brought a kid home with him. That was pretty stupid and careless. Someone was waiting for him though. Waiting in his home and hadn’t killed Brandy. Why? Lure picked up Bojo’s file and flipped through it. He had a juvie record and later, there were a couple of arrests for possession, nothing big. He’d been clean the last four or five years. There was nothing in his record about kids, rape, or any other sexual proclivities. Lure shrugged. The murders were connected and the fingertips of the right index fingers were missing on both men. Not only that, there was an ongoing series of gang murders all over Charlotte. In most instances, the fingertips of each victim were missing.
That bit of information was being withheld from the press. Was there a serial killer out there? Was this some kind of vigilante justice happening? As far as Lure could see, only the criminal element was being hit by the Boneman. Lure had heard some of the other detectives and officers refer to the murder by the moniker. It fit, because bodies were popping up with increasing frequency. Mike Todd was the first, at least as far as he could tell. The other murders were scattered around and different gangs were hit. Lure thought the killer might be an outsider, not a gang affiliate.
He rubbed his hands over his face in frustration. He was getting nowhere fast. No evidence except bodies. Nothing. Whoever was doing this was a pro and it didn’t bode well for the crime element in the city. He took a drink of coffee and winced, it was cold. He couldn’t say he was very upset about the deaths. After all, someone was cleaning up the city and really, how bad was that?
§
Leon was beside himself with a mixture of rage and fear. At nine in the morning, he went back on his computer and screamed. His accounts were gone. Erased. He called the banks and they had no explanation but assured him that it would be investigated. He paced in his home office. He looked around the room at the destruction from two nights ago. What was he going to do? He was almost paralyzed with rage and helplessness. He didn’t like being helpless. Others were helpless, not him, never him. There was no one he could tell. If they found out he was essentially wiped out, they’d jump ship.
Leon picked up the chair and pulled it back over to the desk. He needed to call in markers. He needed money.
“Fuck!” he screamed.
§
Hellen had Cleves where she wanted him. It had taken time but she had him and she would get her answers. She caught him coming out of a nightclub. His car was in the back of the club and there were no lights. It appeared he’d been drinking and staggered to his car. He was a big man and Hell knew she’d have to take him by surprise. He zigzagged his way to the car, pulling out his keys. She glanced around her but there was no one else in sight. The music from the club was muffled.
>
Cleves got to his car, a burgundy Monte Carlo. She thought perhaps circa 1980s, it was in mint condition. A gas guzzler. He swayed like a tree in the wind. If he was actually allowed to drive, he’d hit and kill anything in his path. She really was doing this city a service.
Cleves dropped his keys and picked them up again. He put the key into the door lock and opened the vehicle. Hellen moved up behind him as he was climbing in. He looked up at her, a sloppy, confused smile on his face.
“I’ve got a bone to pick with you, Berry,” she said softly and tased him. His body stiffened and rocked. The scent of urine filled the car and spittle flew all over the steering wheel.
Hell quickly stripped down and popped the trunk of the vehicle. Then she shifted and let her body morph into the werewolf. This was quite dangerous now. She picked up Cleves’ large body and transferred him to the trunk. Her body popped and shrank back down to human size. She redressed and listened. Nothing. The whole evolution took two minutes. She walked over two cars down and picked up her bag, pulled out a large sheet of plastic, and put it over the seat.
Placing her gear in the vehicle, she dug for her hypodermic needle and went back to the trunk. When she opened it, she noted that Berry Cleves was starting to come around. She thought she saw some kind of coherency, so she jammed the needle in his rump and he grunted in pain. She wasn’t very careful with the needle. She closed the trunk, got into the Monte Carlo, started the vehicle up, and pulled away.
Earlier that evening, she’d gone to the warehouse that was busted several weeks before. She’d scoped it out and made sure there was no longer a police presence nor any kind of surveillance set up. She’d set up her equipment and a place to interrogate Cleves.
Twenty minutes later, she shut off the lights and drove the last several blocks down the road. Pulling into the parking area of the large, abandoned warehouse, Hellen cut the engine. She stood outside the car for a moment and glanced around. All quiet.
She grabbed the bag and plastic and went inside the warehouse, scenting the air. No one trespassed nor did she hear any evidence of a presence now. She set her bag near her other gear and stripped down again. It was tedious but Cleves was just too big and too heavy for her to handle in her human form. She walked out into the night and popped the trunk.
Cleves was out cold. She shifted, her body elongating and changing. It was painful, yet it felt good to become a stronger being. Her human form was weak, her werewolf was infinitely stronger. Yesterday she had taken the nail polish off her black claws, shaking her head when she did. While her wolf wasn’t above being pampered, she didn’t want flakes of pink nail polish being discovered in the wounds of the dead man.
The werewolf easily lifted the large man and carried him into the warehouse. Hellen had found several chains and a few locks laying around the offices. She’d snagged those and would secure Cleves between two metal poles.
Arranging his body, Hell let herself shrink back to human form. Putting on another set of gloves, she secured Cleve to the metal poles with the chains. She jerked the chains and checked them, making sure he could not get away. She walked over to her bag and pulled out a syringe filled with a stimulant. This would revive Cleves quickly. It would help dissipate his drunken state. It wouldn’t alleviate it all, but he wouldn’t be as drunk as he was earlier. She injected him and then went back to her bag and pulled out a pair of scissors. She shivered and gooseflesh rose on her skin. It was cold in the warehouse and she was naked. She’d be changing back into her wolf soon. She compromised and put on her shoes and socks. That helped.
She squatted and began to cut his clothing away. She moved quickly, throwing the material aside. Cleves was beginning to come around, blinking his eyes. It was dark in the warehouse and Hellen walked over and pulled out a small solar lantern. She opened it and squinted at the bright light. She packed up the rest of her things. She only needed her claws for this, no other tools.
“Whasss goin on?” Cleves slurred, his eyes bloodshot. He tried to move and he yanked his arms. He was brought up short and his eyes widened. His gaze darted around then landed on the naked Hellen.
She smirked at him. “Hello, Berry.”
“Who…who are you? Why you got me all trussed up? Why are you naked?” he asked, becoming more alert. His head swiveled around and he shook it, trying to clear the cobwebs.
“I’m the one you’re going to tell all your dirty little secrets to.” Hell smiled, picking up her titanium shears. Walking over to his hand, she lifted up the index finger and snipped off the end of his finger. Cleves screamed and howled with pain as he yanked and jerked helplessly at his chains. His bare feet kicked and raked across the floor.
“Why the fuck?” he screamed, his eyes bulging. Tears slid down his face.
“Remember Mike and Bojo?” she asked softly.
“You? You did them? You’re just a woman. You?” He shook his head in renunciation and she waited with a patient smile.
“Yep. Lil’ ol’ me. So here’s what we’re gonna do.” She walked over to a chair and picked up a pad of paper and a pen, then kicked off her shoes and pulled off her socks. She laid the pad and pen on top of her shoes.
Cleves seemed slightly dazed as he watched her. His mouth hung open in confusion.
“I’ve got a whole lot of questions for you. You’re going to answer them. If you lie, I’ll know. You’ll have to pay a penalty for the lie. You don’t want to lie, Berry, trust me. Mike and Bojo lied and you saw what happened to them.”
There was a wide smile on Hellen’s face. She knew she shouldn’t be this happy, but she was. She was doing the job she was meant to do. CIA or not, she’d found her calling.
“What? What questions? I don’t know a lot, and why me?” he asked.
“These questions have to do with Ellsworth’s businesses. All of them. Human trafficking, drugs, organ donors, and all the other little things I need to know,”
His eyes grew large and he was shaking his head in denial.
“Before you deny any knowledge, let me show you who you’re really dealing with.” She relaxed and let her body shift and move and pop and change. A wavering scream began in Cleves’ throat and as Hellen grew taller and filled out, she allowed the saliva to rope down on top of Cleves’ head. Berry ‘Ballbuster’ Cleves shook wildly, pulling ineffectually at his chains. High pitched screams filled the warehouse and bounced off the walls.
Hell scented urine as it puddled and pooled around Cleves. She stepped back, letting out a long, low snarl, her snout inches away from the man’s terrified face. Droplets of blood flew from the wound on Cleves’ hand. She extended her large hand and let the black claw move down his naked stomach, lightly, so as not to rip the skin. Hellen was glad she’d taken off the pink nail polish since she was pretty sure it would have taken away from the dramatic effect.
She stepped back and allowed her body to shrink. Soft noises filled the air along with Cleves’ whimpering. She squatted and put her shoes and socks back on. She picked up the pad and pen then stood before the man. He was crying, glistening snot hanging down to his chest.
“Now. We can do this the easy way. I’ll ask the questions, you answer. You give me every bit of knowledge and names you have and you die fast. Or, you fuck around with me and I’ll make sure you live a very long time, cutting away, little by little. I kept Mike alive for over eight hours. You know that had to hurt. I cut the skin from his body while he was alive. Did you know that?” she said gently.
Cleves whimpered and tried to scoot back but came up short.
“I have been trained to give you exquisite pain. You won’t faint or anything. I’ve given you a stimulant. You’ll be quite awake and aware. And, truth be told, I’m actually enjoying the hell out of myself.”
Cleves whimpered again. He tried to speak but choked. Crying now, he tried to get himself under control. Hellen waited patiently.
“I’ll tell you everythin’ I know. Swear,” he said, his voice trembling so badly it was
difficult to understand. His body moved now with uncontrollable shudders.
“I know you will. If in the end, I still think you’re lying, I’ll go and visit your family,” she lied. He screamed and screamed as his body rocked and fought violently at his restraints.
Bingo.
She’d hit his weak spot. She was fairly sure that his family would be much better off without this piece of garbage in their lives. Well, actually the whole world would be better off.
“First things first. Besides Dr. Winter, is there anyone else supplying you with scrips?”
Cleves’ eyes widened in shock. His mouth opened and closed, his lips trembling. He shook his head. This made her laugh. They always thought to try and get away with lying.
“Oh. I see. You didn’t realize that I already have a lot of information. Yeah. About that. That will be how I know if you’re lying. I’ll ask you questions I already know the answers to. You won’t know which ones, so that way, if you lie, I’ll know. And then you and I are gonna dance.”
EIGHT
Hellen now had the addresses of all of Cleves’ contacts. Thomas, Hoyd, Duncan, and Parker. Cleves had confirmed about Detective Down and Officer Waywood, and had given addresses on Deets, Ray, and Neil. Tonight she’d hit as many as she could. She wouldn’t waste time with torture, she’d kill them and get their bones. She was on a strict timeline. Cleves’ body would be discovered sooner rather than later. Before word got out and the cockroaches scattered, she’d need to kill these men. As for Down and Waywood, she wouldn’t kill them, but she’d make sure she left evidence of their corruption. Secret bank accounts and so on. She’d let the force know about Bojo’s and Down’s speakeasy. She’d made copies of the sale documentation. Leon’s name was also mentioned as broker for the sale.
Oops.
Cleves had provided her with a name, Alvin Pouch, who was in charge of the organ donors. Hellen went to the stove and turned off the heat for the pot that was boiling. Cleves’ bone was now clean. She retrieved it and patted it dry, then set it on a scrap of paper towel and set it inside her cabinet.
