"How do you know that she's out there, Brutus?"
"Believe me. She's out there. I know it."
"You buried her leg out there. Didn't you?"
Brutus remained quiet.
James continued on, "You really are desperate. Aren't you, Brutus? Look at yourself. You're pulling at the final straw, here. Can't you see that you're breaking apart. That you're going to throw everything away if you continue down this path."
"We don't have time to argue about morals, methods or consequences. You can't beat a guy who doesn't have those same restraints. I need to do whatever possible to catch him. I won't be here if I thought otherwise. Come one James, you of all people should be the last to talk about how I do things. I don't care about how she comes back, as long as she does. Just do your thing, already. Bring her back to me."
"You haven't the slightest idea about what my thing is? Do you, Brutus?"
"Say again?"
"Listen to me. You don't understand how I work. You just want me to do something, as if you were turning the ignition of a car."
Brutus remained quiet for second, looking at the back of James's head.
"You're right. I'll give you that. All this time standing here and I don't know exactly how you work. So, tell me. Tell me what you can do. Make me laugh, boy. While we wait."
"As soon as she died, we had a window of at least 36 hours to make contact with her. That's all we had, Brutus. I need you to understand that."
"You mean, you had a window of 36 hour to hear from her?"
"Yes Brutus. That's the way it has worked for most of my life."
"I knew it. I knew that was how you helped her work those murder cases faster than any of other detectives on my team? You talked to the dead for her and you gathered the clues. I knew that there was something up with you. But, I was never was really sure, until you admitted it."
"That's fine Brutus. Your instincts were right. But, I need you to understand that 36 hours after time of death is all the time that I had to make contact with dead."
"Why just 36 hours?" Brutus scratched his head, more out of frustration than bewilderment. It was like he realized something that threw his whole approach with James off its axis. For that moment, Brutus felt farther away from Her and even farther away from the Killer.
James continued, "That is how long it takes for all the cells in her body to completely die. At the end of 36 hours, there's nothing left of her to keep her spirit bounded to this world."
"And after that?"
"Then, she's as good as gone and onto the next world."
"The next world? What world?"
"I don't exactly know. I really don't know if it's another world or what. But, when a person dies, the dead usually go through a rift of white light."
"Like a doorway."
"More like a passage. They step through the passage and I never hear from them again. They're gone. They leave this world and that's all there is."
"And what? What do you mean that's all? She gone? That can't be. We'll miss our chance to catch the killer. This our chance James. No. We can't let that happen."
"Yes Captain. That's how it goes for everyone. 36 hours. That's all the time that we have. Please listen to me and be reasonable."
In that moment, Brutus felt terrible, as if he were going to throw up, right then and there. He was quiet and reeling back at the thought of losing his daughter for a second time. Then Brutus composed himself and wiped the sorrow from his brow. He kept his eye on the back of James's head. He reasserted his determination, as if he could change the supernatural rules that James laid out through sheer will.
"And what? We're left with nothing to go on, no clue, nothing that can lead us to her killer. No. We can't let that happen, James. I can't let that happen, not this time."
"Why. She's already dead. She's at peace, now."
"Don't be callous. We have to try. Maybe you're wrong this time. Maybe we have more time."
"Try for what? She's gone. She's not coming back. It's too late"
James was lost for words. He didn't know how else to reasonably explain it to Brutus.
"What about the next woman that gets murdered in a couple of month when were all looking the other way. No way. I can't live with that kind of blood on my hands. It kills me!" Brutus pounded his chest. "It fucking kills me every time that devil kills another woman. He makes me makes feel useless. He makes me feel like everything I do, amounts to nothing."
"But you're..."
"But nothing. Just stick to the plan, James. I'm sure that you will hear from her. And I know that she will lead us to her killer. She'll take us right to him. Don't you want that?"
"It's not about what I want, God damn it. I told you that we are out of time. It's been more than 36 hours, since you found her legs inside that dumpster on 49th Street. It's over. She's gone."
"Don't you have a conscience James? I thought you loved her. That's what you told me, just a moment ago. You told me that you loved her. Don't you?"
"It's that not it, Captain. I just...I can't let my emotions interfere with my judgement. I need to have a clear head to do this sort of thing. If I don't, I could confuse what's real with something that I imagined or made-up, like a delusion. I could go crazy, just like you are, right now."
"Shut up James!" Brutus hit James with the butt of his gun. "I don't care about what you need. Just keep looking for her, damn it."
"But…”
"No. What you need to do is find her. Do you hear me?"
"Brutus, the window is closed. I'm not going to hear from her or anybody else, out there."
"I don't care. Keep searching. I'm sure that my little girl will come back to me, when she sees me up here."
"Captain, what if she doesn't want to come back to tell us anything? What if she just wants to stay quiet and hidden somewhere inside the cemetery? What if all she wants to do is forget about all the terrible things that happened to her and just go away, peacefully. Doesn't, she deserve that?"
Brutus remained quiet for only a second.
As the red sun slide behind Manhattan, all that James could hear was the rustling of the leaves. The sound reminded him of Wrigley Field in Chicago filled with cheering fans. And below that, James heard Brutus's breathing. It was heavy, shallow and labored.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang.
James's heart jumped out his chest. The gunshot echoed in his ear, dissipating with the wind. The barrel of the gun was hot and Brutus pressed the hot muzzle into the small of James's back. The hot metal burned through his white shirt and branded his flesh. James clenched his jaw holding his scream inside.
He stayed quiet and took the pain. He took it for her.
Then, Brutus whispered into James's ear. "I don't care how you do it. Bring her back to me or next time I'll shatter your spine, so help me God, you'll never walk again. It's your fault that she's dead. It's your fault that she's out there."
Four
Floating Body Parts
James kept thing about Charlene, as he stared into the cemetery. He continued in the case of the Missing ones and She left him.
"What do you hear, Detective?" The Captain asked him.
James lowered his binoculars and spoke into the walkie talkie.
"Captain, I don't know what the hell to look for? We haven't found one hard piece of evidence, linking the missing women to this cemetery. I've reviewed all the reports that the field officers handed in and I found nothing. I went through every page, of every report. And nothing. I don't know what else to tell you."
"Indulge me, Detective. Tell me what you hear?"
James didn't want to hear anything. He didn't want to see anything, anymore. He didn't want to work another case. Not like this one. Every time, he looked into the cemetery with his binoculars, he saw things that no one should see. He dared not repeat any of it, to anyone. No one need to know.
It's too late for everyone.
Instead, he needed one night of peace. So, he could be wi
th Charlene and stare into her beautiful face and lose himself in her eyes. Instead, he was alone at the cemetery with only the faces of the Missing Ones to keep him company. They haunted him and he wondered if he would ever find out what happened o them.
Even though he could not reveal what he knew to the Captain or anyone else. He could not change the fact that he was scared by what was out there waiting for him.
"Sorry Captain. But, I'm just going a little crazy here. I've been standing out here for a long time..."
"I know Detective."
"Come on, Captain. Did I really have to wear my dress blues, out here."
"Yes. It's better if you do, Detective. I want the people of the community to know that we are out there, in the trenches...with them."
James stood on the roof of the police car staring into the cemetery. The
"What do you hear Detective? Anything Yet?"
James didn't want to say. Instead, he blocked everything out of his mind to hear nothing, but the sound of rattling of the trees, like an applause of a stadium.
James thoughts turned to Charlene. Just an hour ago, he cancelled his date with her and he regretted doing so. After ten years of being good friends with her, they had suddenly become romantically involved.
"I'm telling you, Captain. There is nothing to report out here. I don't hear or see a thing. I doubt I'll find anything here,
"But, the night has not even begun, Detective."
"I know that."
"And I know that you'll find something, Detective. You always do find something. You work in a way that I'll never understand."
"Captain, couldn't you have just assigned a beat cop to do this? Why me?"
James kept staring into his binoculars and everything looked pretty dead. The afternoon was uneventful, filled with one or two people walking pass the cemetery and nothing else.
"Come on Captain. Give me something to go on. We don't even know what the suspect looks like? I don't have any idea who this person could be? For all we know, every single missing woman could have run away. They could have gone off to join a cult. We don't really know anything."
The fall leaves raced pass the tires of police car and gathered along the edge of the cemetery. Bare branches rattled with a strong gust of wind.
"I know what you mean Detective. I know that you think that is a crumby assignment. But, this assignment is damn important. You know that. Everyone is doing their part and I need you to do yours. Anyways, I can tell that this one will probably be your last case."
James wondered how the Captain knew that he wanted off the force. Was he that obvious about it?
"That's right, Captain. It is my last case. And I..."
"That's right, Detective. It's my last case too. And I promise that we are going to find those women."
"So, you've had enough too."
"Your not the only one, Detective, who just wants to retire on an island and ignore the world."
"I don't want to ignore..."
"...It doesn't matter Detective. For now, I need you to keep an eye out for anything that might be out of the ordinary. I've trusted your gut feelings before. And now I need you to trust mine."
For a couple of minutes there was radio silence. Then, the Captain started again.
"So many times, Detective, we get a missing person's report and we file it away. That's all we do. Then, their names get lost in the paper work with the others. As time goes by, we don't even make an effort anymore. We forget them, like the gum that is stuck underneath our desks. We just accept the apathy in the system as the status quo. Maybe that's my fault. But, not any more Detective."
James stayed silent for a moment thinking about what the Captain just said. There was no use in fighting him. There was no way of getting out of this assignment, not
"I need you on this one, James. You know this neighborhood better than most of the officers at the precinct. I need a good man on the job. You're probably the only one that cares to tell the difference between a actual suspect and one of the local gangbangers. The Department doesn't have time for red herrings, Detective. We got to find a potential suspect, soon. Three women have already gone missing."
"I know Captain."
"I'm just frustrated. I wish I knew what to look for, Captain. That's all."
"Me too. But, this is the job. You know that. Go on your instincts, man. I trust you. That's why I want you to be out there. I need you to be our eyes and hears. Can you do that for us?"
"Not a problem, Captain."
"Thank you, Detective. Keep in mind, that you're not standing around with both your hands in your pocket. You're saving lives, every second that you're out there."
"I don't want to ignore..."
"Don't worry about that James. Not now. Keep focused. By the way, I made sure that the precinct dispatch checks on you, every hour or so. Charlene said that she would do it."
"But, she doesn't work in that part of the department."
"She will,
"Thank you, Captain. Over." James ended his communication and holstered his walkie talkie. He looked through his black binoculars and kept monitoring the grounds of the cemetery.
There was nothing out there.
The Captain was right, though. This was his last case. "Stop whining like a newbie and keep it together. You're a professional damn it. You can make it through this one. It's your case, your responsibility. Just close this case out and quit the force. That's all you have to do."
In the end, James was sure that he would make it through the night and end up with Charlene. He just had to stay positive.
"Charlene will wait for you because she loves you."
James let the binoculars fall away from his face to reveal his eyes. They were a milky white, without pupils. They were the eyes of some one special, of a soul that had been touched by God.
As James stared at the dying sun, he listen to what was out there, to what was coming with the night. He heard the sound of dogs growling at each other.
James looked through his binoculars again. He searched for the shadows of the three women that he saw inside the cemetery. But, they were gone.
"Remember why you're here. Remember her.”
It was evening now and the sun was dying. With a pair of binoculars, James scanned the field of ancient tombstones that stuck out of the earth like jagged rocks. The cemetery was quiet and the night was coming.
James had his own way of doing things. Instead of patrolling the perimeter of the cemetery by foot or car, he used his binoculars. It was quicker this way and it helped him keep an eye on the sidewalks and cemetery at the same time. As long as the sun was out, he saw everything. However, it would be a different story, once the night descended upon him.
At night, the Captain expected him to patrol the inside the cemetery at least twice. The thought of walking inside the cemetery made his skin crawl. Ever since he was a kid, he never liked this cemetery. He wasn't looking forward to going inside. The cemetery only led his mind to a places where he did not want to go. It was a place inside himself that he feared, more than anything else.
"The night is coming." He heard a voice in ear.
Suddenly, a horrible image popped into his mind. He could not hold back the night.
"Damn it." he whispered to himself. "This can't be happening again."
He thought he was and wasn't over the last missing person case that he worked on. There was still too much to deal with and he hadn't dealt with any of it.
"He wasn't just another victim. He was a person. What was his damn name?"
James thought about the image that appeared in his head. It was of a gangbanger laying inside a peach colored bath tub. The image popped to the forefront of his mind and floated there for a while.
Standing on the roof of the car that sat by the Calvary Cemetery, James remembered the smell of death. And it smelled of...
"Snap out of it, man," James told himself. You're freaking yourself out and the night hasn't even begun."
"Forget the gangbanger. Whatever his name is. That case is over."
But, the stench of death still lingered.
"Come on, forget it all. Remember why you're here."
Five
Before A Field Of Corpses
"Do you hear her, James?" asked The Captain.
The Captain was one of the 151 precinct captains in New York City. He was a light-skinned black man the size of a refrigerator, who stood less than a foot behind James. The Captain was so close that James felt the Captain's warm breath on the back of his neck. At the time, both men stood on a caved-in roof of a blue and white squad car, looking into the cemetery...searching. All day, they stared into the cemetery, waiting for the dead to dance.
"Hear who, Captain?" asked James.
James's calm voice echoed through the air. It came up, just over the rattle of branches on a row of old oak trees located across the cemetery. The emergency lights of the police car flashed across the dark green canopy of oak trees. The night was coming and the sun was about to fall.
"James, you know exactly who I'm talking about. Stop messing with me."
"Fine."
"Do you hear her or not?"
"No Captain. I don't hear a thing."
"Don't lie to me James. Don't do that. Tonight is not going to turn out good for you, if you lie to me. I swear to God that things will just get bad for you, if you don't find her."
"I'm not lying to you and I haven't heard from her."
"I know you hear something out there, James. I know it. I hate it when you lie to me. It tells me that you don't respect me or Charlene.
"Come on Captain, I do more than respect your daughter. I loved her."
"Shut up! I don't want to hear that bull. Do you like making me feel stupid? Do you like making me look like a fool in front of Charlene? Damn you boy! Why did you ever have to walk into our life?"
The Dead Never Die Page 3
