Inanimate (37 page)

“
I think I
have his cell number
somewhere.”

“
That’s better
,” said Jacobs through a rigid
smile.

After a couple of moments of
moving away some paperwork the receptionist
produced a Rolodex. Jacobs quietly
watched her flick through the names while wondering to himself why
they still used such an outdated filing system. She stopped at
Murray’s number and punched it into the phone beside her. A version
of the song “Hallelujah” started coming from the examination room
where Matthew was still standing. The ringtone was only a faint
buzz at the reception desk. Jacobs looked around trying to figure
out where it was coming from.

“
Psst!”

The receptionist was trying to
get Jacobs’ attention. When he turned round to her, thinking she
was going to tell him where the sound was coming from she simply
whispered the words
“It’s ringing.”
She animated her face dramatically while doing
this, sarcastically giving the impression that she was extremely
eager to help. Pissed off by her insolence Jacobs’ tried his best
not to lose his temper. Instead he simply mouthed back in an
equally overly enthusiastic fashion “I know!” Spotting the glow of
the cell phone Matthew walked across the floor to beside the exam
table.

“
Jacobs!”

Matthew yelled
at the sergeant,
prompting him give the receptionist one last contemptuous look
before jogging down to join him. The phone glowed ominously on the
floor as it vibrated.

“
I got it!”

Matthew
picked it up off the floor, still
wondering where all the blood came from. Jacobs came into the
room.

“
Ok” stated the cop “So we’ve
found the coroner’s phone, but where’s the coroner?”

His eyes floated around the room for a
moment before he felt Matthew tapping at him.

“
What?”

With his chin, Matthew gestured towards
one of the six steel doors on the wall; he noticed that the handle
was askew, not horizontal like the rest of them. Slowly, Jacobs
drew his gun and gestured for Matthew to move towards the drawer,
but he couldn’t. He remembered that door all too well. That was the
door his father was in. Jacobs gestured more forcefully, jerking
his head towards it with absolute urgency. Matthew slowly moved in,
Jacobs assumed his apprehension was out of fear, unaware of the
traumatic events in his past.

“
Open it!” Jacobs
whispered
harshly.

Looking down at the door then
quickly back to Jacobs
, Matthew shook his head.

“
What do you mean no? Open
it!”

Matthew
shook his head again. He was turning
pale.

“
Look…”

Jacobs tried to
whisper rationally
despite his frustration. He felt that between Matthew and the
receptionist, he was doing very well to keep his cool.

“
There could be a person in
there. Ralph Murray could be hurt and we might need to help him. I
would open the door myself but I can’t.
I need to be ready with my gun just
in case it’s not Ralph Murray in there…just in case it’s something
else. Now open the damn door!”

Matthew
took a breath and stepped towards the
drawer. Lifting the handle he pulled the drawer open sharply. There
was dull click and Matthew held it there, not wanting to pull it
open. He felt the pressure from Jacobs stare, took a labored breath
and pulled. Matthew’s eyes widened, he reeled back in horror, their
was a face in there he did not expect to see.

The cold dead blue eyes of his father
flashed through his mind as he collapsed, wincing to the chilly
linoleum floor. Jacobs lowered his gun to get a better look, he was
equally as shocked over what he saw, but for different reasons.
Trauma took over Matthew’s brain for a fleeting moment; his father
was not in there. It was Ralph the coroner, he was stone dead but
looking a lot more colorful than usual.

“
How could someone do
this
?”

Jacobs
spoke out loud as he looked down at
the body of Ralph Murray, the man who signed off on Andy Williams’
death report. Neither man could take their eyes off of the
grotesque face before them for a long minute. Jacobs finally broke
his stare and scanned the high walls in the room, spotting
surveillance camera.

“
Come on Matthew let’s
go
.”

Matthew
hurried past the open drawer,
following Jacobs to the front desk.

“
Where’s your security
monitors?”

Jacobs
yelled at the receptionist and
slammed his hands on the desk for effect. There was no more time
for insolence.

“
Um...back there!” The
receptionist
said, gesturing to a room behind her.

Jacobs
stormed round and looked at the four
monitors, which were designed to guard the building and its
people.

“
What good
are security cameras if no-one’s
watching them?”

Jacobs
thought out loud while trying to
rewind the tape from the examination room.

MacNamee
sat outside the house of Matthew
Bizet as Oates organized the cops inside. The old Sheriff was
having a quite word with Brady.

“
Look, we need to keep the town
running as normal while we take care of this. The station will be
out of use for the next few days while we try to catch these
things.”

Brady
nodded along, he was aware of what
was going on, they all were. He knew the key was to keep panic
levels to a minimum.

“
Deputy
Lynch will be at the station with us
later, so I need you to keep things going round here.”

Oates
said this part loud enough in front
of some of the other officers, knowing they would respect his
decision to put Brady in charge for the time being.

Jacobs
watched the coroner perform an
autopsy on a woman who died of a suspected heart attack a couple of
days earlier. Speeding up the tape he watched Ralph finish up what
he was doing and wheel the old lady over to the fridge,
transferring her from the gurney to the drawer with only the
slightest effort. Jacobs’ cycled through the footage, watching him
clean up his area, putting some disposable tools away and
sterilizing others. From behind him, Ralph the coroner was knocked
the ground, something had struck him on the back of the head
putting his down instantly. The way he was standing initially
blocked the view of the perpetrator, but when he fell, Jacobs saw
who hit him. Basket stood over the old man laughing. The clown
dragged the old man over to the operating table and started to lift
him up. While panting (which was all for comedy value) Basket
lifted the 230 pound Murray up onto the operating table. Basket
pushed his torso onto the table first, then flicked his legs on.
Once he was lying flat on the table Basket pulled a long string of
handkerchiefs out of his sleeve, laughing while he did. He tied the
old man’s hands together under the table and put a wrap around his
legs and throat. Still out cold, the aged coroner could do nothing
as Basket jumped on top of him, ripped open his lab coat and tore
his shirt open to reveal his pale chest sprinkled with grey-black
hairs. The clown looked straight at the camera and grinned widely
as if he knew Jacobs would be watching. His designed child-friendly
appearance was immediately shattered by his murderous expression
and demented laugh. Putting one hand behind his back he rummaged
through his trouser pockets.

“
Ouch!”

Basket yelled brashly as he pulled out a
long needle and a ball of blue string. With a cackle he started
diving the needle into the old man’s chest, skillfully fashioning
his torso into a waistcoat. Jacobs, watching, bit his fist. Matthew
turned away periodically. Only incapacitated, Ralph Murray awoke
suddenly to found his skin being pierced repeatedly. Shock grabbed
him first because he didn’t feel any pain. It was only when he
fully came to his senses that he realized what was happening and
the pain struck him hard. Allowing no time for breath he screamed
shrilly. Jacobs immediately had more hatred for the receptionist
who was clearly out on her break while this was going on despite
the fact Murray had told her not to. As the old coroner screamed
and shook violently Basket stopped what he was doing and looked at
the camera again.

“
Oopsy!”

The clown yelled comically as he looked
around for something to gag the man with. Finding nothing close by
the clown shoved his arm in Murray’s mouth. In a single act of
self-defense the old man bit down hard into Basket’s soft material
arm. Although this could not possibly have hurt him, Basket still
performed some over the top antics for his audience; flailing his
arm about as if he was starring in a pantomime. Comically, he
started slapping Ralph for “being bad” while the old man screamed
for help. Ignoring the cries Basket pondered his options. After
what seemed like deep thought he stuck up one finger in a “eureka”
moment, as if a great light bulb of an idea had suddenly appeared
above him. Basket grabbed his own big red nose and with quick tug,
detached it, exposing grotesque bone like material underneath. He
took his nose and shoved it in Murray’s mouth, turning his screams
into muffled grunting.

“
It’s ok it’s
ok
…” cried
Basket “…you can borrow it!”

The clown
rolled back its head into a
shrill laugh and went back to stitching Murray’s chest. After an
agonizing few minutes Basket was finished. He reached into his
pocket again and pulled out a make-up kit and started applying
color, similar to his own onto the old man’s cheeks and around the
eyes. Then he lifted a scalpel that sat, once sterile beside the
table and started slicing into the sides of his mouth. Holding the
old man’s head still, Basket peeled back the flesh around the
teeth, exposing them to the elements and turning his face into a
permanent grin. As Ralph Murray’s strength began to waiver, Basket
decided to finish off the transformation. He tossed the scalpel
between his hands, teasing the old man who was still conscious
enough to watch. With a thrust then a sawing motion, Basket carved
the letter X over both Murray’s eyes, imitating the archetypal dead
clown image. Murray could not protest at all, after the first eye
was finished. He was not quite dead but he certainly could not feel
any more pain. He had reached the threshold after his eye was cut
into. He was out cold, helpless, but he would not be alive much
longer. Jacobs watched as Basket finished up the second eye and
jumped down. Sprinting, he grabbed the gurney and rolled it
alongside Murray. Ripping off the handkerchiefs that held him down,
Basket rolled his body onto the cart and pushed him over to the
fridge. Thoughtfully selecting the drawer, he rolled the old man
onto the table and fixed his appearance to make sure he still
looked “good” for whoever found him. Lastly he ran to the
temperature control and turned it down to the coldest it would go,
laughing as he did. With an over the top wave to the camera he ran
out the door into the hallway.

After witnessing this
horror,
Jacobs wondered if the receptionist was there, but was just
too stupid to notice a clown run past her.

Graham and Murdoch were an
excellent partnership within the force. Each provided a
complimentary skill set to the other which allowed them to
boast more solved
cases than any other team, despite the fact they were still in
their late twenties. Graham was an athletic young man, often found
in the pool in between shifts. A few years into his career he was
chasing a suspected housebreaker through the outskirts of the city.
Realizing he was soon to be caught the suspect made a rash decision
which he thought would spare him. He jumped into the river. As the
suspect swam, thinking he was getting away, he was horrified to see
Detective Graham remove his jacket, shoes and pants and dive in
after him. When back up arrived they found a semi-clothed, wet
Graham pinning down a tired an equally wet suspect. As it turned
out the perp was a serial burglar with connections to a high
profile bank heist some years earlier. The information the police
obtained from him put at least three other wanted criminals behind
bars. Despite the fact his colleagues gave him a hard time for
being caught partially naked with a suspect he received a
commendation for his bravery and quickly appeared on the radar of
his superiors. On the other hand, Perry Murdoch, while not as
athletic was very astute. Taking his time to go over cases in
meticulous detail he was able to spot patterns in behavior, leading
to some high profile arrests. About six months before coming to
Staunton, a brilliant observation by Murdoch led to the arrest of
the infamous
“Alley-Cat Killer.”
A series of young women were found murdered in
alleys across the city. At first it seemed the only connection the
body’s had was that they were female and they were found in similar
places but, on a hunch, Murdoch looked at the locations of where
the bodies were found on a map, marked them and joined up the dots
forming what appeared to be an incomplete circle. Then, on that
same hunch he cross referenced the route with those of the city’s
sanitation department, leading the investigation to a garbage man
who had been leaving bodies near dumpsters on his route so he could
revisit them the next day. There was talk of the FBI being
interested in him as a behavioral analyst; that was if he decided
to apply. Either way, both young detectives were well known to
their superiors, both were on the promotion list.