Deep Heat II Chapter 1

Deep Heat II

Murder by proxy

1.

I disliked the hours that I was to wake up. It was always pre-dawn when the dreams will stir me up. It was always the same dream. I will see Sidney, Shawn, Nigel, and Alice all staring at me in the front row while at the rear were Connie Layton, and victims of the City Dumpster cases. They will be talking at the same time and I could not make any sense of what was spoken. I will rush towards them but they kept on fading to the rear until I collapsed on the ground.

“It’s dark precognition that resides in your memory. Something that you have not resolved.” That was not my psychiatrist but my Tarot Card reader friend. I am no true believer in science. I have my skeptical sights on some things really like the landing on Moon. I examined the articles and the revelations before I placed my faith in it. Ironical for the younger me who used to go to Church but since Sidney’s death, I had distance myself more from it. I became a recluse and with my clubbing, I picked up some new beliefs.

I was still at the old Station but I have my own office with the name etched on the glass door. It read “DCI Bernice Madden”. I looked to the old Section and the others; Vice and Narcotics. They are the same sections with the familiar faces. Darned, it felt good to be back. I was then given the news that my previous section was under Ian Duncan. He was doing good, having resolved some cases and happily married to Tabitha. It had been a year since my promotion. With the new rank of DCI, I was deskbound and missed the groundwork. And sadly, to the statement, we had no major cases to work on like the previous Dumpster Killing. There were cases of murders but those were minor in comparison. Even Vice have an easier year with small busts and no commendations. Narcotics mumbled on ‘small fishes in the net’. Statistically, we were in our comfort zone.

My life as the bitch had not mellowed and was actually holding my relationship with another. She was my Tarot Card reader but her paying job was as a Doctor in the ER Department. We met at the club and while drinking, she took out the Tarot Cards. She offered to read my life. I patronized her request and watched her dealt with the cards.

“You have no closure in an event that affected you.” The bitch turned the card faced up. I smiled at her.

“The Sun is reversed. It meant you are depressed.” The bitch in turn smile back at me. “Let me go on.”

The follow-up card was the Temperance. And the next was the Death. It was that card that hit my nerves in the mind. I was still thinking of Sidney on most nights. More than I ever did when he was breathing across the distance of the city.

“You hold the fear of change, but the Temperance held that you are patient with it.” Yes, my group of bitches has left me, and I was in the wild like the lone wolf. My Tarot cards then revealed Justice.

“Yet you seek clarity. What bothers you, love?”

Her calling me love unnerved me then. I was not prepared for the declaration of affection. I have my bitches but love was never in the fuck. It was just the plain act of doing it for me. The bitch then held out her right hand.

“Do you have a place we can go?” It was how we started. I did not ask what she does then but soon was to find out. We are both in service to the community albeit one of us carries a gun while the other the scalpel.

“Did I wake you?” I heard the soft voice from the bed. The bitch was awake. Doctor Elizabeth Tan of the Chinese descent rolled to her back with the right arm over her forehead. I knew she came back late at night after the handling of ER cases at the hospital. In comparison to my works, I was the potato couch while she was the maid.

“No, you did not.” I climbed back in and the inviting warmth of her body soon curled on mine. I held her face and laid my lips on her sleeping eyes. She replied with the rubbing of her left leg over my hips and then ground her pelvis towards me. We were separated by the sleeveless vest she wore to bed while I was naked on the bed. Liz was what I called her, have the vest since her residences training years when her lover, who was the doctor in the hospital, had given her then. The lover died in a car accident six months later. Initially, I harbor the jealousy that she still kept the vest, but it soon rescinded into just another vest.

“How will your day turn out?” I asked her as if I don’t know.

“The usual fare, the sirens, and the screaming and then the treatments with the blood splattering over the floor, and maybe some organs too.” Liz laughed. “Like when I did my stint at the Morgue but that was eerie quiet. What will be yours?”

“Paper works and twirling the pencil to write more reports.” I do miss my task as the Inspector where I get called for the crime that happened daily. The rush to the scene, the calling for the Section to take on the needed evidence and screaming at Forensics to rush the collection. Then it was back to the desk to ponder the details and called in the suspects and the glaring at the lawyers who will advise their client to remain silent or no comment. That was different from the Chief Inspector. I was coordinating cases after examining the available shreds of evidence. Thereafter, I will use the truncheon to shaft into the Inspector or Sergeant asses.

Talking about asses, I never gave it much thought after Sidney’s death. I am not obliged to his son’s or daughter’s and heck if they want to mine, I have the hole in me but it’s all mine. Or shared with my lover. At work, the ass on the line is more of my reputation. I do have the Station Commander over my rank but she hardly speaks to me anymore unless it’s official. I report mostly to the Assistant Chief Constable and unless there are some major crimes. I was doing the papers most days.

An hour later with the quickie sex done, and the follow up scrubbing under the steaming hot shower to wash away the grime off the body, we were soon in our routes to work. Liz drives a Japanese compact while I opt for the Kawasaki Ninja ZX-7R with the red coating. The biker was a multi-winner of the superbike championship but that was not my reason to get it. It was the need for speed; at a top speed of two hundred and fifty kilometers an hour, it was my kind of a bike to release my stress. The bike roared on the ride, with its airbox snarl that sounded like it will rip off the visor off your rival rider, and with the right tuning, it was a speed monster on the road. During the cold weather, I clean out the carbs regularly to avoid the bad morning starts. Above all, I like the feel on the road. It gives me the feel of a good ride.

I kept my two sets of official uniforms, the dark suit and white blouse in the Station locker. When I ride, I am in my zippered red suit and matching jacket with a dark helmet and visor. Due to my reputation, I need to adhere to the speed limits but I do when available time, I will take the bike to the outskirts of the city and give it the ride the bike was designed for. I will speed past the incoming city drivers and then hit the country roads to wake up the pasture creatures for their late breakfast if any was left. My daily breakfast was coffee and toast with marmalade on my desk served by the tea lady.

I thought my career would be cushy until I retired. The other alternative was to open my legs and be prepared to be a mother and then after grandmother. I was not for it. I don’t bother with my biological clock. I was into the life journey.

Well, it was far from it when the morning breaking news displayed a calamity.