Authors: Ben Hopkin
Tags: #General Fiction
“Why are we being asked to protect the Mayor?”
That, to Darc’s view, was not the correct question to ask. The pertinent information related to how much time this protective task force would require of them, and how that would impact their search for the killer.
“Mayor Isaacson is worried. Three members of his council are dead, plus a prominent businessman—”
“You mean mob boss?” Trey muttered.
“I mean
businessman
,” Merle emphasized. “There is no evidence that Mario Colacurcios was involved in any kind of—”
“Come on!” Trey said. “His last name was
Colacurcios
. What else do you need?”
“Regardless,” the captain continued. “The recent deaths have left the Mayor spooked. There’s that big parade coming up, and he’s worried about his safety.” Merle grabbed a file off of his desk and threw it to Darc. Trey dove for it and managed to catch the heavy folder before it struck Darc in the chest.
“Catching isn’t really Darc’s thing,” he explained, glancing through the file. “So how much involvement are we talking here?”
“You’ll need to head up the team. I’ve put the files of some of the best uniforms in the city you can draw from, as well as some guys from other departments.”
“Our time is engaged in our investigation of the recent killings,” Darc said. The threads were racing back and forth, assessing this new information. There had been not a single strand that had predicted this development, and it was one that would hamstring their investigation.
“You’ll have to do both at the same time,” Merle responded. “Sorry.”
Trey blinked. “
Sorry
? Did…?” He looked from Merle to Darc and back again. “Did you just apologize? To us?”
The captain raised his hands in a backing off gesture. “Look, this is over my head. I need you on the case, but the very reasons you’re working it are the reasons the Mayor wants you. Only the cream of the crop for his protective detail. You know how it goes.”
“But…”
“Don’t mistake my apology as an invitation to argue with me on this.” The captain pointed at the door. “We’re done here. Keep me updated on your progress.”
Trey grumbled as they walked out. “Stupid Mayor. Doesn’t he have some kind of security team or something?”
Darc was never certain when Trey was asking a real question, so he decided not to answer. They would have plenty to do to continue making sure the investigation moved forward at the same time that they were protecting the Mayor. The strands of light twined around one another, working on the issue, attacking the problem from all sides, spitting out answers. None of them were satisfactory. There simply was not enough time.
“I guess we’re going to have to talk to the Mayor’s assistant, make sure we’re working with his schedule or whatever. Man, this is going to be a pain.” Trey was still grousing as they got back to their desks.
The phone rang as they started to settle back in. Darc peered at the ID screen and saw that the call originated from the ME’s office. He put the call on speaker so that Trey could hear as well.
“Darc?” It was Cody, the intern. “I hope I’m not bugging you guys, but the reports are back on the autopsy for Raymond Prosser. And there’s some stuff here you’ll probably want to see in person.”
Trey looked up at Darc, his eyes larger than normal. Was this some sort of appeal? Or was Trey having dilation issues? Regardless, there was information on the case they were working. And that information was waiting for them at the morgue.
“We will be there in five minutes,” Darc replied, hanging up the phone. He pulled out his cell phone to call Mala. Having her there could be helpful.
As for the Mayor, he would just have to wait.
* * *
Trey grabbed the empty glass soda bottles that were in the front seat and tossed them in the back, making sure they landed on something soft. Wouldn’t do to break the bottles. He’d never get the glass out if that happened.
“MexiCokes, dude,” Trey answered Darc’s look. “I can’t get enough of them. Made with real cane sugar instead of that high fructose corn syrup stuff.”
“I do not drink soda,” his partner replied.
Reflecting on that, Trey decided that might be part of Darc’s problem. Something to definitely think about for the future. Maybe stage some kind of introduce-Darc-to-the-joys-of-caffeine intervention?
He pulled out into the street, punching it. They didn’t have much time before the Mayor’s goons started tracking them down to make sure that Darc and Trey did their new job. He returned to the soda issue, figuring that was an easier topic right at the moment.
“That’s a tragedy, man. But whatever. I’m telling you, the big drink corporations are all like
There’s no difference in taste
. That’s so a load of BS. You can totally tell.”
Darc remained silent, staring out at the road ahead of them. Trey could never be sure if Darc was doing that because he was following some internal savant-type lead or if he was just tuning Trey out. Somehow this felt like the latter.
“There’s something else that no one is really talking about. High fructose corn syrup has been shown to mess up your memory. Plus, it spikes your insulin response by like five times more than sugar or something crazy like that. I blame corn subsidies.”
Yeah, Darc was totally tuning him out.
“And then there’s the whole connection with aliens… you know, the crop circles and stuff. Where do you think you find those? Corn fields. See? Corn
syrup
. Corn
fields
… Total connection.”
Nothing. Fine. Time to just have some fun, even if he was the only one listening. It’s not like Darc ever thought anything he said was funny anyways.
“One time an alien took me up into his ship. True story. Tried to do that anal probing thing on me, but I was like
No thank you, bro! I’ll take my probe to go.
And I was out of there. Took his alien girlfriend with me. She was hot.”
Still nothing. Seriously. Messing with Darc when he got like this was like shooting fish in a barrel. No fun at all.
Trey remained silent for the rest of the trip, planning out in his head how he was going to slip some caffeine into Darc’s diet at some point. Would the stimulant make Darc even more crazy smart, or would he just implode? There had to be some kind of critical mass when it came to intelligence, right?
When they got to the Coroner’s office, Trey stepped out of the car, heading toward the building’s entrance. Darc walked at his side, but then glanced at his partner.
“I’m not sure that Maggie would appreciate your dalliance with extraterrestrials,” he said, and then loped into the building, leaving Trey with his jaw agape.
Okay, so apparently Darc had been paying attention the entire time. And was it just him, or had Darc
just told a joke
?
Trey felt like he needed to call Maggie and Mala and Janey right now and let them all know. But Darc was quickly getting away from him, and they had stuff to do. Like, right now.
Down in the morgue, Dr. Hutchinson appeared to be doing what he could to keep from sneering at Darc and Trey. That man had a serious stick up his butt. Trey wasn’t sure what they’d done to offend the guy, but he clearly didn’t like them much. Not nearly as nice as the new intern. Trey found himself wishing that whatever had kept Hutchinson away from the morgue the last time they’d come down would happen again.
With a nod from Hutchinson, Cody pulled the sheet back from the newest victim. “There were some things that I thought—” Cody’s eyes flickered over to the ME as Hutchinson cleared his throat. “Sorry,
Dr. Hutchinson
thought you’d want to see.” He stopped for a moment, glancing up at Darc. “He’s not going to go running out of here again, is he?”
Trey shrugged. “Can’t say for sure. Darc does what Darc does. Not a whole lot of rhyme or reason to it most of the time. Well, rhyme, at least. The reasons always come after the fact.” He sighed. “You learn to deal with it.”
“Right.”
Dr. Hutchinson moved in closer to the body as Cody stepped back to give him room. “When I opened him up, I saw the same burning on his heart as in the last case. I checked back on the first two bodies. There were burn marks there, but because they were just tiny points, they weren’t noticed.” The ME glared at the intern as if that were Cody’s fault, but Trey was pretty sure that was on the doctor.
“Did the marks correspond to what you have discovered on the other bodies?” Darc asked.
“Well, there wasn’t a pentagram, if that’s what you mean,” Cody answered him. “There was only one on the first body, and then two on the second. Looks like the spacing is the same as it is between these two points.” He pointed to two of the darker spots on the five-pointed star within the circle.
“Those mark the location of the first two bodies, right?” Trey asked Darc.
“Yes.” Darc was looking down at the corpse, his eyes getting that glassy look. Something was percolating in there, Trey was sure of it.
“One moment,” Dr. Hutchinson interrupted. “What are you two discussing?”
“Darc figured out that the whole pentagram thingy is like a map of a section of Seattle. So those darker spots are locations of bodies.”
“Whoa. That’s…” Cody burst out, then shot a look at the ME “Well, that’s sick is what that is.”
“C’mon. You were gonna say it was cool, weren’t you?” Trey pressed. The intern shook his head after another quick glance at his boss. “It’s okay. It is cool. And gross and sick and twisted. That has to be part of the reason you want to work down here, doesn’t it?”
Cody shrugged. “It
is
kind of fascinating. I suppose.”
“You are one warped puppy,” Trey said with a grin, slapping the intern on the back. “This stuff makes me lose my lunch every time.” The ME looked on in what Trey could only describe as disgust. “Okay, now what else have you got to show us?”
At that point, Mala rushed into the room. “Sorry I’m late. Just came from a meeting with Janey’s principal.” She caught Trey’s querying look. “Ask me later.”
Yikes. That didn’t sound good.
“Ah, Dr. Charan,” the ME gushed. Well, at least there was one person on their team he seemed to get along with. “So good to see you once again.”
“Thank you, Dr. Hutchinson. Same.”
“Glad we have
someone
here with some sense of decorum,” he said, glaring at Trey. What the hell? Make one little joke about liking your work, and apparently it was all glares and stares from there on out.
“Wait.
You’re
Dr. Mala Charan?” the intern squeaked.
“Um. Yes. Have we met?” she asked.
“No… uh… no. I just…” He looked around the room as if trying to find something to save himself with. “I’ve…
heard
of you. You know. Around. Around here, I mean. And at the precinct building. You’re supposed to be an awesome profiler.”
“Well, thank you. And you are…?” Mala held out her hand to the young intern.
“Oh. Um. Cody. Cody Lyons.” He started to shake hands with her, then realized he still had on latex gloves, which he ripped off. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same,” she answered, looking at his hand intensely. He was wearing some kind of ring, which seemed to interest Mala. Finally, she looked up. “So,” Mala said, turning to Trey and Darc. “Catch me up to speed.
Trey nodded. “Okay, nutshell version. Four bodies, all inside pentagrams of various types, all of them with weird a burn mark on their heart. Done by the killer going in through the bellybutton, I guess. The last two burn marks had full pentagrams on them. They make a map of Seattle, apparently.” He shrugged, pointing at his partner. “Pretty freaky stuff. You can ask Darc about that.”
“So this is where the Satanist angle is coming in?” Mala asked.
“Right.”
“You do know that Satanists only started using the pentagram pretty recently, right? It’s mostly Hollywood that perpetuated that whole thing.” Mala moved closer to the body, peering into the open chest cavity. “And there it is,” she said, taking a small step back.
“Yeah, pretty gruesome.”
“What are those marks around the neck?” she asked the doctor.
“Ah, yes,” he cooed. “You have an eye for detail.”
Trey did all that he could not to snort. It wasn’t like the marks were subtle. A thick red band ran all the way around the man’s neck. Someone had a crush on Mala, it seemed pretty clear.
The ME continued with his explanation. “Asphyxiation. Cause of death. Not the sword through the breast.”
“There was a sword stuck through his chest?”
“Yes. Quite dramatic, although the sword itself appears to be a cheap tourist souvenir.”
“So, what’s with the sword?” Trey mused. “It seems like this guy’s just busy checking off all the bizarro deaths he can come up with. I mean, the pentagram stays the same…
mostly
,” he said quickly before Darc could correct him. Man, his partner could be anal retentive sometimes. “Anyway, you got the one with the tongue ripped out, the one with the
heart
ripped out, the lady that was sawed in half and then this poor schmuck.”
“That was all we had for you, Detectives…” The ME turned to face Mala. “And Doctor.” He stopped. “Oh, wait. There was one more thing we almost missed.” Again, he stared at the intern, who ducked his head. “It was partially hidden by the sword thrust, and was a bit mangled, but I was able to spot it. As best I could tell, it looked like this.”
Dr. Hutchinson pulled up a piece of paper on which he had doodled something like a snail shell. Weird. But Trey couldn’t see how that would relate to anything else in the case so far.
But Mala and Darc leaned in closer, almost in unison. Trey had a feeling he was about to get schooled on some obscure factoid once more. It was really the only part of his job that ever got old.
“The Golden Ratio,” Darc said.
“Exactly. Just like the pentagram,” Mala replied. “But that means…”
“Yes. It could.”
Sonofa
… Boy, had he called it, or what? “Okay, spill, you two. What is it?” Trey broke into their little tête-à-tête.
“The pentagram is significant in geometry because of the ratio of the different line segments within the star,” Mala began.