D&C 2.10; Cannibals and Flesh Eaters

Cannibals and Flesh Eaters

I was dragged out of bed with my head weighing like fifty tons. They did not ring me but send the uniformed to my house, knocked on my door at the at ungodly hour, and told me I was needed. The one needed me was my wife, Jenny. She fell on the house steps and sprained her ankle but the paying job tells me to get my butt out. I struggled into my clothes while watching the service gun by the dresser. For all I ever could pray for; Jenny could shoot herself with it. Far reaching hopes,. I guessed. She did picked it up and looked at me.

"You sure you don't want me to shoot with it. You are lucky we don't have kids. They won't walked into into momma kissing daddy but probably momma shooting daddy with the gun."

I loved the lady. She a first rated comedian when it comes to sarcasm. I leaned over to kiss her cheeks but she pulled away. So much for the eventful sex, all I would ever get to any kids would be via surrogate. I took my free ride; it was far and out of the city. I asked the uniformed where are we headed. I had my gun drawn out just in case he was a fake. Things like that do happened in real life.

"The call came to you out here." The uniformed replied. I was uneasy while reaching for my portable. I called the Precinct. It was Frank who answered.

"I just got in. The call for me just now. I heard there was a major case at our city limits." Frank paused. "The Commissioner just walked in."

If the Commissioner was roused up too, then it must be really big. I might as well enjoyed my free ride. I reached the big yard; fenced of eight foot high complete with six large dobermans for guard dogs. The building structure was build in the center of the yard like a castle. There was a hundred yards from the structure to the fencing but on that day, it was filled with cars; police, ambulances, and lawyers. I was one of the many then, but I was given the doggone task.

"Jimmy, there are the dog pound that was not processed." I heard the Chief of Police orders. We don't argue with the Chief. He was born Irish, and fights like pit bull when he was in rage. He was that day when the Governor been calling him every ten minutes. I knew that before I stepped into the dog pound.

"Jimmy, the Chief is all riled up. He just snapped at the seniors" I loved the warning; these other detectives just loved to cautioned you and then watched you get chewed. But I still got chewed nevertheless. Them six dobermans were in bad mood; they were ready to gnaw on my bones. I toom up the water hose and was to sprayed them when the Chief intervened.

"You shoot that water and I would do the same to you up your arse." I held the hose at my waist level and mimic the hump when he turned his back. The dogs called me back. I saw the long stick when I was stopped again. It was a Sargeant.

"Detective, they want you in the house. They found something." I made my way there and found all the seniors there. We were introduced to a large lab beneath a hidden door that lead to the basement. It was not a wine cellar; but a bones cellar. There were several large metal tubs the size big enough to place a tall basketball player. Each tub had a metallic wire cover that prevent the inhabitants from leaving. Those were flesh eating beetles or scientifically known as Dermestid beetles. They can 'cleaned' up a skull in two days. The Chief had asked the Forensic to check the bones for identification.

"I want to know if Martin Beatty is among those." The Chief shouted out.

Then we knew the cause of his anger. The Beatty' have a large influence on the city with their business and funding during the call for 'help'. Martin Beatty went missing last week, and since then family had left no pillars unsearched. Or in the development then, no bones un-scattered. The words out on the streets was he was dead.

Thankfully, bones were not my expertise. So I left. However possible homicide was mine.

"I heard they found bones at the place." Dan spoke in between the munch on his dog. "They took all the meat. Coroners need flesh to work on."

"Dan, would you focused?" I let it off on him. "Tell me what is the latest."

"I sent the bones, all sixteen to the Jeffersonian, for restructuring the facial makeup. They make take time, but I heard the family had placed in a grant so that would speed up things. So till then, shut up."

That was our conversation piece for the morning. Frank was more chatty. He told me that the Commissioner was sleeping on the couch this morning. They took a photo of him for the social network with the caption; never was he ever late for work'. They all laughed but not me. I was too upset to laugh. I asked whose yard was that.

"A guy named Stanley Marks; ex-soldier and then guard dog trainer. He's missing, and they are looking for him too." Frank read from his little notebook. "He used to supply dogs to the family homes, and also offices. He was fired last year for over charging them."

"Miserables shylock these bastards," Frank muttered. "Marks threatened legal action but did not come to that. He eventually went back to his yard."

"Cornered beast, and trainers are the same; they are dangerous." I muttered.

"Yup, he also lost three other contracts for corporate clients. The family influenced the others on his inability to do the books correctly." Frank went on. "He was last seen confronting Mathias Beatty at the office."

Mathias was Martin' brother.

"Not since then. And we received a tip off on the yard, send in the detectives, and then all of us were called up. Case getting heated by the hour." Frank concluded his report. He then went for his coffee and smiled.

"I hate dogs." That was a good opener from him. "I once had three dogs; they almost ate me out of my payroll. I gave them to Di Angelo."

"Di Angelo, what happened to Frank' dog?" I hollered to the man at the kitchen.

"In the frying pan. So backed off. I got a lot of dogs to fry today." We all laughed at his reply. Not for long though. I was given a list of suspects to question from the ex-wife to the chauffeur. I questioned back to the Commissioner, as the case was out of our Precinct borders.

"Mr Beatty does not trust the local cops. So beat it yourself." I did it.

I found some links, vague ones that could lead to murder but I doubt to. Mrs Beatty was involved with the Dentist, hence the breakup, but the chauffer was a old classmate who did not scored well in the finals. He ended up working for the classmate. There were others but each of them either had a hidden skeleton or betrayed a loving for the victim. But neither of them had the guts to kill. I then met Mathias Beatty.

"I knew my brother, but if you are asking me who could had killed him, I would fingered out Stanley. The man was in rage when he confronted me. I told him to backed off of I would call the police. His reply was more severed; I am the law around here." Mathias then took up his glass of wine and sipped. "I think the man is mad like his dogs. He feeds them raw meat."

"How did you know he feeds them raw meat?" I asked.

"I saw him do that. He's mad." That was all I got from Mathias. He had to excused himself to go for a meeting with the Mayor. I called Dan on the dogs. He told me that the vets had to put them to sleep. They were too wild to handle.

"Dan, called in the dogs. Have them autopsy for contents." I told Dan and got my reply harsh.

"Jimmy, I am a ME not a vet. So f*****d off." Dan hung up on me. But he did requisitioned for the dogs.

I met him there at the lab later and got the results.

"Stomach contents was normal; meat and innards. We did some cross references, and found them to be human flesh. Chunks of it. We are doing DNA testing now." Dan replied as he showed me the evidence bag. "I also got the result from the Jeffersonian. They had ten experts working full time on the skulls."

"Mark Stanley was one of them. But no Martin Beatty. They also found three ex-employees of the Beatty family staff, who were missing for over a year." Dan updated me. "Mark was an amateur anthropologist, or more like a head mounted collector. It was in his face book and blog."

So where was Martin Beatty?

I checked into the Beatty family of influences and found something influential. Mathew Beatty had an ailment which required drugs to alleviate the damage. His was a rare drug although he could had used a number of generic drugs to control it. I ran a database of the drugs sold in the state in the last two weeks. I hit three stores and requisition their records including the overhead camera.

I found Martin Beatty on two of the cameras. I ran the location and saw it leading north. He was heading for the border or hiding somewhere out there. I called the Border Authorities to checked and he had not reached there yet. So he could be up in the hills or forest. I went over to the house of Martin Beatty; he did own one of his own, among the rich, and he was dished out like leftovers. His place was bared of furnitures and mostly TV dinners filled the bins.

Something was not right.

I ran up more checks on Martin. He was one of the sons, but he was never involved in the business. He was the black sheep; the one nobody cared except his dad, Thomas Beatty. When the old man died, Martin was on his own. He owed the banks money and had most of his possession auctioned. The current patriarch was his uncle, Micheal Beatty won't see him but of late was concerned for his whereabouts.

I checked in more deeper.

Someone was paying his debts. Someone bailed him out of bankruptcy.

"Mrs Beatty, why did you bailed him out?" I asked the older lady who was his mother.

"I am his mother, detective. Is that wrong?" The older lady was upset at my question.

"Your husband never did." She refused to answer my question. So I left and searched out more. I found out that Mathias had a home in the hills. It was near the border. I got my search warrant after a series of cautions. I took a team of forensics there. We found a large hunting lodge with five dogs. We also had many wonderful findings; head mounted creatures, including one under animals protection. It was not the dogs that interested me but the three large hogs in the pen. They looked well fed.

"Who the hell do you think you are, Detective?" Mathias came rushing with with his attorney in the Ferrari. He must had broken all the speed limits to get there so fast. I was to reply when the team leader called me in. I followed him in and saw the large freezer. He showed me the patch of red shade by the icy side. He had swapped it and it was blood.

"So that is blood. I keep my fresh meat in there." Mathias defended himself. He soon shut up when the team produced the speck of particles from the icy surface. It was human skin.

"His skin was in contact withe side and left a small part." The leader explained. With over thirty years of forensics, he was not new to seeing particles of skin. We took the samples back to the lab for testing. And also the dogs and hogs.

We presented the case to District Attorney, but there was not enough to convict Mathias. Martin was there, but there was none to placed that Mathias killed him. We were told to go on looking.

We never found Martin.

Mathias Beatty was last seen at the airport headed for destination unknown. His place in the family was taken over by the cousin.

We never got a conviction, but we had three hog for our barbecue. Most of them abstain from the pork but Dan and myself; we had a triple helping. The pork tasted better; maybe it was the sauce or the rations given to the hogs.