Copywright 2010 JJMC
I just knew it was going to be a bad day. Not because the phone woke me up at 5:47am. Not because the calendar read Friday the 13th. Not because I was making my way to view a dead body. But because the day was beautiful, and as I stepped out of the apartment and into the sun-lit and cloudless sky, I realized that it was only going to go downhill as the hours went on.
When I arrived on the scene, the boys in blue had already blocked off the perimeter. Badges covered the pavement shaking their heads and talking in whispers. I lit a red, took a drag, and observed the scene before me, taking in the power players on sight, and getting a feeler for what, and whom, I would be dealing with.
Sergeant Henry Fields was definitely the ring leader of the orchestrated chaos around him. A hulk of a man in his late forties, Fields served in the Marines until his early thirties, and never really left the life behind him. Although having a family and a little girl, Law and Order were the epicenter of Fields’ life. And when he wasn’t working a case, he was at the gym pumping iron. I sometimes think that his life may actually be more lonely than mine.
Detective Rod Jackson was dealing with a group of reporters at the other edge of the scene. Barely thirty, Jackson had a Harvard Degree in History that he gave up to join the force after tragedy took away his mother. He was a walking encyclopedia, and perfect orator. His handsome boy-next-door looks and friendly smile didn’t hurt his popularity either. From the looks of things, the reporters were eating out of his hands.
I took another drag off the cigarette as a large Styrofoam cup was practically thrusted into my hands.
“I picked you up some tea.”
I glanced towards the speaker, Jim Wilcox, who suddenly stood next to me with an air of anticipation and excitement. Jim’s worst fault is that he is a definite morning person, way too chipper for his own good. Sauntering up behind his was Andrea Styler, pulling her long, scarlet hair back into a ponytail. She didn’t look happy as she took a sip of her coffee.
“Thanks,” I said, gripping the cup. “So, what’s the drill here?”
“They found a body. A good one, too.” Yup, he was way too chippy.
I turned to Andrea. “Am I the only one to find his enthusiasm disturbing?” She let out a laugh.
“Michael, it has been pretty dry the past several weeks. Especially in our department. The good times had to come at an end sooner or later.”
‘Our Department’ was known to the badges and the rest of the city as the ‘S Squad.’ What they didn’t know, and what we didn’t tell them that the S meant Supernatural. Not only were the three of us equipped and experienced in the spooky, but we were all, in our own ways, intimately involved in that faction of society that normal people would rather chalk up to myth and tall tales. Jim was a shifter of the serpent variety, and when he wasn’t on a case, or slithering through Central park, he also was a singer in a downtown indy rock band. Andrea was a professor at Columbia, as well as a Siren. Myself? Well, I had the painful honor of being half angelic, and although the city is my home, I travel all over the world as a Special Investigator. Of course, none of the badges knew any of that, with the exception of Fields, who formed our squad almost seven years ago. All that the rest of the badges, and the world knows, is that we get the job done. And that’s all they really need to know.
“Something’s not right here,” I said, lighting up a second red.
“What do you mean?” Jim said. “It looks like a normal homicide scene.”
“That’s just it. When have we ever been brought to just a normal homicide scene?”
“I don’t smell any blood.” Andrea added.
“Neither do I. Maybe it isn’t human.”
I glared at Jim with alarm. “Do you really think Fields would allow the scene to be this open if it was a supe?”
“Stranger things have happened.”
Before we could continue, Fields spotted us from the crowd of badges and marched towards us, the officers making a path for him like he was Moses.
“Wish I could say it was a pleasure to see you Hutchinson,” his deep voice spoke as he took a stand still in front of us, nodding his heads towards the others. “Wilcox. Styler”
“Morning Searge!” Jim smiled.
Fields ignored him, and focused his attention on me. “Hutchinson, we have a major situation here.”
“What’s the need to know?”
“Why don’t the three of you come follow me? Georgie’s been looking at the body, but hasn’t touched anything yet.”
The three of us exchanged eyes as we followed the Hulk through the crowd.
The body was that of a 27 year old Caucasian male. He was positioned in a seated position on a bench overlooking the river on the edge of Christopher Street Pier. His skin was translucent, and to top it off, there were a series of dual puncture wounds on the neck, above the left nipple, and also on his inner right thigh. Someone had drained him of his blood. And I knew the body. Definitely not good.
Georgia Furguson was on her knees, looking at the body from beneath the bench boards.
She didn’t bother to greet us as she took a picture of his underside, the flash breaking out from the top of the bench. “There’s another set of puncture wounds directly below the anal cavity, and it looks like he had anal intercourse a few hours ago.” Flash. “Although, the puncture wounds don’t show any sign of struggle, I think they weren’t made post mortem.” She backed out from beneath the bench and stood, managing a smile, which disappeared as she looked in my direction. “What’s the matter, Michael?”
Suddenly all eyes were on me. “I knew him.” Fields stiffened.
“Knew him how?”
“He worked at Midian.”
“The Leather bar?” Jim was entranced. The rest of us ignored him.
“The state of the anus wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. From what I know of him, he was definitely a player.”
“Did the vic have a name?” That was Fields, always business.
“Tommy. Tommy Kerestes.”
Fields wrote the name down on a pad. Andrea placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Michael.”
“No, no, that’s not why I’m concerned. I still don’t understand why we are here. From me it looks like a sick fuck got off on making a ken doll. The blood draining, the posing-it’s pretty out there. Even so, I think this is more for the behavioral team than us.”
Fields cleared his throat. “May I have a word with them for a minute, Ms. Furguson?” For some reason he only called her Ms. Furguson to her face.
“Sure”, she replied. “I’ll go check up on Rod and the media hounds.” She removed her gloves and walked away, leaving the four of us alone.
“So what gives Field?”
He eyed us thoroughly. “What gives is that this is actually the third body we’ve found in the last 10 days. We’ve kept the first two a secret, but the media got here before we could contain the situation.” This was getting better every second.
“Did you say ‘three’ bodies? Just like this?” If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn Jim’s jeans were tenting.
“Yes. Three bodies. All of them drained. All posed, although in different positions. All men. All found between here and 28th Street.”
Andrea finally spoke. “What about the number of puncture wounds?”
“Multiples on each body. And we don’t believe them to be puncture wounds. We believe them to be bite marks.”
So that is why we were called in, and why they tried to hide the bodies from the media. I sensed immediately an uneasy glance between Jim and Andrea. I would have to ask them about it later. For the moment, someone had to cut the silence. “With all due respect, I have seen a lot in my life, Sergeant. Are you sure that they are bites?”
“Yes. They are bites, though according to Georgie, they aren’t human.”
“There’s something that you’re not telling us, isn’t there?”
“Georgie has her reports ready at the lab. Go. Take a look at them, and also check the other bodies. If you knew this one, Hutchinson, then you may be connected to the others as well.”
“With all due respect, Fields, just because I knew the vic doesn’t mean I’m connected to them. Or this.” I did not like where this conversation was going.
Fields tensed. I had two options. Given the situation, I chose the easier one.
“And what is Jackson telling the media?”
“The usual: overdose. You three are on the case, starting now. And I want this solved before we find another body. I don’t care how you do it. But do it, and do it fast.” He didn’t wait for a response, but turned and marched away, yelling to his troops “Help Geogie move the body when she’s finished. And clear these people out of here!”
I looked towards Jim, who was speechless, for once, and then towards Andrea, who looked just as unsettled.
“Do either of you have a notion of what could have done this?”
It was Andrea who replied. “I don’t know. But it’s definitely not good.”
I turned to Jim. “Still excited?”
He grinned. “You have no idea!”
We decided to walk up to the lab in midtown. After all, it was a beautiful day, and as it was, we would still get there before Georgie finished with the body to her liking and brought it back.
As we walked I thought about the scene we left, and about Tommy Kerestes. Although I had only met his a few times, when I had been dating the then bartender, and now manager of Midian, from what I remembered Tommy was definitely a pistol. He was vibrant, and carefree. Perhaps maybe a little carefree for his own good? To see his body posed like that, out in the open-something had to know what was going on.
Jim was busy flirting with Andrea a few paces behind, and I took the opportunity to begin my own investigation. Placing a hand held mobile device (I hate them, by the way) into my ear, I closed my eyes and lowered my shields, opening myself up to the phantoms around me.
I had always been able to see and communicate with the phantoms, and the mobile device was a way for me to speak with them in public, without people getting the notion that I may be a schizo. You see, three days following death, the phantom part of the body emerges, continuing ‘life’ on another plane of existence. Being half angelic, I can see them. Sometimes they are useful, but most often they just want to gossip, complain, and prove that life after death is just as mundane as breathing.
With the metaphysical shields lowered, the world looked the same. Only much more crowded. Oh, and phantoms? Forget the nice suits and dresses look. They were always naked, their phantoms taking the form of their bodies at the time of death. Believe me, not always pretty.
Immediately at my side was Martha Hemmingford, phantom, and stalker, I mean admirer. Before she died Martha was a debutante on the Upper East Side. Plump and pompous, she prided herself on her gossip, and her several marriages to unattainable men. You see, poor Martha had the Liza with a Z syndrome in the turn of the century, finding husbands who would rather share a quickie with the bellboy than a bed with a vagina.
“It took you long enough, Mikey!” I hate that she called me that. “And those cigarettes are going to kill you one day.”
I let out a chuckle. “I seriously doubt that, but thanks, Martha.”
She cut right to the chase. “So, you want to know about the murders?”
“Any information you can share will be greatly appreciated.”
“Well I don’t know anything much about them, sweetie. No one’s talking. I mean, if I knew something I would definitely tell you, but I just don’t. No one’s whispering even a word about it. It’s as if the bodies just appeared. I know, spooky, right?”
This was getting me nowhere. “I’m sorry, Martha, but I don’t really have time for idle chat at the moment.” I went to remove the mobile device when she stopped me.
“Wait. Wait. I do have something for you.”
We were at the corner of 10th and 32nd. “What is it?” Suddenly, Andrea and Jim became interested.
Martha continued. “There’s a presence. The past week or so. Very dense. Phantoms are freaked. And we don’t really have anything to worry about. I mean, we’re dead after all. But still, I’ve never felt anything like this. And I’ve been dead for over one hundred years.”
“So, this presence- where is it?”
“It’s over the entire island.”
“And what do you think it may be?”
“That’s the chilling thing, Mikey. I haven’t the foggiest idea. But whatever it is, it’s not a good thing.”
“Thanks Martha. We’ll speak soon.” I closed the shields and pocketed the wireless mobile device.
“What about a presence?” Jim didn’t even give me breathing room.
“She said there was a presence over the city. Definitely bad, but she didn’t know what it was.” I lit a fresh red. “Have you guys felt anything?”
“No,” Andrea replied. “though I am not sure we would. The Phantoms are on a separate level than us though. So we may not be able to detect something like that.”
“Did she say anything else?”
“Nothing of substance.” That was Martha.
“So we still have nothing to go on?”
“Nope.”
Jim put an arm around Andrea, pulling her close. “Don’t you just love our job?” She pushed him away, her eyes glowing red. Jim just laughed.
We killed some more time by grabbing more caffeine before hitting the lab. When we got there Georgie was busy with the body. She greeted us in her scrubs, and an unfriendly smile.
“What is it?”
“It’s just what I thought it was, Michael. You see this?” She pointed to the body of Tommy Kerestes. “The body’s hollow. Here, take a look at this.” She handed me a set of X-ray scans of the body.
The scans showed a the skin and bone, and nothing else on the interior.
“What happened to the organs?”
“He’s been eviscerated.” She answered. “My guess is that whoever did this to him found a way to liquefy the organs and suck them out via the bite wounds.”
Jim grabbed the scan from my hand. “He turned them into human mannequins?”
“That’s a good guess, Jim. Each of the body was posed, naked. The first body was found positioned at a bus stop on 24th and 8th. The second was found standing outside the meth clinic on 16th. They do resemble mannequins.”
“Do you have ids on the other vics?”
“Sure. The first one found was Bradford Montgomery. The second was Paul Giffin. And Michael-“
“Yes?”
“All three of them were gay.”
I immediately lowered my shields. The bodies were not yet consecrated with burial, and that meant that their phantoms would be bound to the immediate vicinity of the bodies. I scanned the area of the morgue, hoping to see them standing by. All I saw was empty space. Whatever had killed them had also taken their souls.
