Not suitable for the minors.
Deep Heat
2.
“Forensics initial report on your desk.” I heard
Tabitha. I was back in my role with the change of clothes, and ego. I sat down
and read the report. The modus operandi was the same.
“Forcible entry by a blunt object into both private
orifice with tear marks identified.”
“Strangulation marks on the neck and chafed marks
on the wrist and ankles similar to marks of being secured with rope.”
“Traces of sedatives in the bloodstream.”
“Body was wiped with bleach to remove any traces of
DNA.”
I placed the report back into the folder. I then
saw Tabitha standing before me. She was my aide to all the documentation.
“Eleanor Mitchell. Aged twenty-four, and is a
local. Doing her studies in IT at night classes, and worked daytime as a café
waitress. She was brought in for soliciting but released without charges. Vice
Report.” Tabitha gave me a brief. “James and Grant doing the door to door
checks. And also, they are checking the Café.”
“How far were the distances?” Tabitha knew my line
of inquiry.
“Nowhere near. The Café was tangent in direction
and the School was before the Cafés. She was also not in the last location when
Vice nabbed her. We did a location reading there. The area was …”
“Lined with drinking establishments. Like the
others, they were there for a drink or meet someone but they got killed with
their arses stuffed in hard.” I replied. It was the same scene but a different
part of the city. I had the Section marked the areas and we had nine popular
hangouts but the assumption of the crime was off the radar. It happened in
areas where a few establishments existed to some underground clubbing sites.
The later was quite a few and they moved frequently to avoid detection.
“I have checked with Vice. There was a club there.
It just opened two weeks ago.” Tabitha went on. “Its…”
“Gemini Nights.” I knew that place. I was there
during the opening. “Find out on the club. Who’s and …”
“It belonged to Nigel “Man’ Selby.” I heard of
Nigel. He was a successful businessman with an array of operations including
vices but no one touches him for he has a deep pocket and affiliated friends in
the right places. I won’t be surprised that he’s got Vice here by their balls
too.
“Vice is passing me their reports.” I heard Tabitha
but I know those reports were adulated with a lot of missing passages. I do not
trust the system and found my sources are more reliable. The only payback they
want is my ass.
“Update to the Commander and add in there, I am
investigating some leads. Not confirmed ones but will update soon.” I knew how
to keep the wolves at bay but with my ass that is another matter. I was to take
off when I saw the three-striped uniform walked in. I knew their looks and
guessed it’s not the donuts I donated the last function.
“Sergeant Reilly, I am honored. Are we having tea
again?”
“Bernice”, Reilly knew me when I was doing street
patrols. “I got your mug shot plastered on the rounds from the next town. Now,
I know you were into your moods but please don’t get stomping another fag in
the groin.”
“Sergeant. I did not stamp him.” Darn, I admitted
to being there. “I meant did he say I stomped him? I was not there.”
“We could not …. Fully identified the assailant but
we are checking the bikers.” Reilly bit his tongue to defend me. “I just wanted
to know if you were out of the city today.”
“Nope. Tabitha could attest to that. I was sick and
laid down in the bathroom.” I looked at Tabitha. She nodded to Reilly. “She was
giving me some medicine. My car was at the Station.”
Reilly took note of that and left. I took leave soon
after in the car. I was visiting some old friends and needed to be official.
Tabitha offered to come along but I dismissed her. Where I was headed, Tabitha
need not know. It was not her personal safety I was concerned about. It was
mine. There are sections of the city that you do not want to be seen traveling
alone or in a group. Not when you don’t belong there. In my line of works, I
had visited some of them and even lived in one of them before but that was a
long time ago. In some cities, they called the place the ghetto or the slum but
I called them homes to the needy. These people who lived there are nobodies and
with that branding, they are left defenseless against the others. They went to
the ghetto to get that needed protection and in return, they protect the others
too. It’s the rule of the jungle there; kill or be killed.
My official car had stood like a hardon in the
convent with the passer-by shunned and the curious taking a peek for their
curiosity. I drove down the streets with my speed limit way below the limit,
but my eyes were checking the scene there doubly fast. Soon I spotted my
target; a group of dykes and bitches doing the suntan at noon by the sidewalk.
I pulled the car over and stepped out.
“Sister, we are not entertaining today.” I saw the
lady stepped towards me in her two sized smaller dress and platform shoes that
made her looked like the stilt lady. She may be in her twenties but her look
may have moved on further in the aging process.
“Tell Sidney, Bernice is looking for him. Ask him
to meet me at the Church in an hour.”
“Sister, we are not your lackey like Upstairs
Downstairs. And we don’t know who is Sidney? Does he lick?” I ignored the
remark and move back to my car. When I was stepping in, I saw the other group
of muscles on the opposite side of the road. I wished I had brought my back up
or at worse, my truncheon. I had left it at home, retired for other uses. I
took courage and drove on. I pulled over at two more groups before I stopped at
the church. I was not a devoted follower but I had spent my weekends in the
House of God; well not of late but when I was more innocent.
“Afternoon, Father.” I greeted the pastor soon
after I stepped in. The later was lighting the candles at the altar.
“He is in the back.” I knew Father Francis for many
years. “Bernice, when would I see again? This Sunday we are a special mass for
the Homes.”
“Soon, Father. Soon.” I replied. I have my duty to
perform then. I stepped to the back and then out into the small garden. There
was Sidney “Boxer” Madden, my birth father tending to the vegetables there. He
was in his seventies but his body frame was still good. He was a former boxing
star and held some good records for a white man in the ring. It was his cover
for his real trade; the mobster enforcer. He did well, and soon staked a chunk
of real estate for his effort plus some side business to keep his boundary
secured. His only vice was his wife died early and left him a daughter. He
could not raise her for she was everything he was and he sent her off to the
aunt who was a spinster. It would have worked but the aunt had many friends to
coach the growing lady. The rest was history, and it was dark.
“My prodigal son returned.” Sidney had always
wanted a son.
“I am ho…”
“Fuck the pleasantries, Sidney. I am here on
official business. What can…” I had cut in but Sidney was a boxer. He knew how
to take the blows and also to avoid it.
“I have tea prepared there.” Sidney indicated to
the tray with the two cups and pot. “It’s from Ceylon. My friend brought it
over.”
Tea was one of his trade, and he bartered with
guns. He was a trader of sorts. I declined and questioned him.
“Sidney, who is doing the killing?” I handed it out
hot.
“You mean the City Dumpster Ripper? I don’t know.”
Sidney had then poured a cup for himself. “My girls are scared to do their
rounds alone. They travel in pairs now.”
The two weeks with tabloid speculating on the
murders have laid the heat onto the communities but the murder still occurred.
They have named the murderer as the City Dumpster Ripper after the other
Ripper. The only reference was the breast mutilation and the dumpster for the
victims was found there. Panel experts attributed that to ‘motherly neglect of
love’ and the dumpster was the sign of trash. I had listened to the rumors that
I was placed in charged because I was flat-chested and probably won’t be
targeted but the trash part was more of a personal reference to myself.
“I think it’s the underground scene which the
killer is prowling at.” I gave out my clue.
“The joints are their hangouts. And from there,
they ply their tricks.” Sidney snapped in. “We don’t do the posh towers. Those
ivory towers are for celebrities. If we move in there, they will have the girls
send to docks.”
All of us knew the flesh trade was sanctioned by
relevant parties and boundaries were drawn. The enforcement varies and the
docks could mean the court for jail terms or the portside serving the drunks.
“The killer is putting the screw onto your trade,”
I added in.
“Five murders over two weeks? It will blow over
once the press gets another ass to whiff over. It would help if you could solve
it faster.” I disliked my father when he threw me the left hook unanticipated.
“I would and I am which is why I am here. Give me
an angle to work on.” I had taken a step back to avoid his lefty hook and
tossed him my right jab into the face. He took a sip of his tea and then looked
at me.
“I heard some rumors that person or persons
responsible are from out of town and may strike again.” The murders over the
last two weeks held a gap of two or three days each. So, I have that time
frame. “Beware, son. The killer may be protected.”
I told you whoever I was to meet would have my ass.
And Sidney did. He called me son when he wants to tell me I was not his
intended child.
“My son should have one ass and not two.” Those
were his words to me when I confronted him on his dislike of me.
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