Clare ~ 3344 words
‘So not here right now’
‘Huh?’
‘Hi Scott’
‘Hey Golda’ Scott sent her a confused look before carrying on nineteen-to-a-dozen. Rookie enthusiasm. They all had it to begin with; that eagerness to impress and show how smart they were. Look-ye Detective Golda Horovitz thirty-five years old and more jaded than a, than a very jaded thing! Hell even her conversations with herself were no longer making sense. Propping her attaché on her hip in order to free a hand Golda juggled her coffee and deli bag managing a peek at her watch as she opened the door to her office.
‘Scott it’s early. Exactly 7.30 in fact AM. Stop. Take a breath. Let me down some caffeine and we’ll start again okay?’ Please let him get the hint. Damnation, the guy could surely talk underwater, once started there was no stopping him. An answer for everything; relevance optional.
Dumping her attaché on her beaten desk she thumbed the light switch and took a long savouring sip of her coffee. Had to hold a hand up to signal Scott to zip-it like a traffic warden on heavy duty. Harsh maybe but hell it was a Vanilla Latte Supreme; half-cream, chocolate sprinkles, double serving. Pure indulgence. Well how often did a girl get to treat herself and ask anyone, with the hours she’d been putting in lately she deserved a bit of self-indulgence. Opening her eyes from the coffee appreciation she gave the cramped office a cursory look. Four walls, one with a dingy window, blind skewed to accommodate a struggling spider plant that she really should water soon. Other three walls covered by pin boards, file cabinets and a ‘crime doesn’t pay’ poster; solving crime could certainly pay more too. A waste paper bin next to the boxy desk overflowed with crumpled Styrofoam cups and a forest of paper, the hurled remnants of a fevered brain. It had been gone eleven when she’d given in last night and even then she’d carted home files of work to prop on her kitchen island and glower at in the hope of some sudden inspiration, or maybe a missed clue leaping out and blowing a trumpet to get notice. Little wonder she felt so tired and grouchy.
‘Okay grab a seat Scotty and help yourself to a bagel, Martha’s best. You should know by now you shouldn’t try to get sense from me before I’ve had my first sip of coffee in the morning’ She winked at him and smiled to relieve the tension as he gambled over and plonked himself down in her visitors chair, ready to burst with whatever vital news he had to impart. The uneven chair leg caused it to tilt and for a moment there she was sure he’d end on the floor. The boy didn’t look like he’d had much sleep himself.
‘We’ve had another one’ Scott’s hazel eyes gleamed with the broadcast, face intent as he watched her reaction. This time it wasn’t pleasure that had her close her eyes.
‘Merci, Merci’
The first case had arrived at her desk little over a month ago, since then it had snowballed out of control. Fleeting thoughts in the first week of this being a case a career could be made on soon became shown as superfluous. The case was huge and Golda had a horrible feeling they were poised at the tip of the iceberg praying hard that a sudden heat wave would hit and melt the unseen remainder. So far every slither painstakingly revealed was worse than the previous. She’d been removed from all other cases to pursue leads. Any leads. Choose a spot and sink your pickaxe folks there’d be no showy Swan sculpture at the end of this salmagundi.
‘Same as before?’ Golda pushed away the bagel knowing that the details to follow would not be the type to whet her appetite. The crime shots Scott started sliding across the desk at her sustained that.
Biting back a groan Golda pushed rim-less glasses up her nose, tucking glossy dark hair behind her ears as she studied the gruesome images. This was one of the hard parts of the job.
‘Why wasn’t I called in Scott, this is my case?’
‘They didn’t make the connections’
‘How could they not…’ Scott interrupted his normally jovial face earnest as he explained further.
‘At first they thought it was animal remains, they were in such a state you couldn’t tell the remains where human.’
‘Not enough blood’
‘What?’ Golda jabbed the photos with an ink stained finger. ‘Not enough blood they had to be killed somewhere else and dumped there.’ She didn’t have to tell him it was like before.
Bodies, people; reduced to little more than a jumble of blood soaked organs hard to identify as human. A person wife and mother or maybe a someone’s son broken apart and discarded, butchers refuge. Someone had once loved them and would feel pain at their passing. She was determined to avenge them. To put a stop to this evil butcher before more were dragged in to suffer.
Scanning the notes it tool a second yawn from Scott to make her realise her bearings. Her coffee had long ago gone cold and her treat was left un-tasted.
‘You best go get some ZZZ in Scotty, gone be a long shift’ Her head was back bent over the papers before she registered his grimace at the name. Golda barely acknowledged her office mail being delivered and it was only when it fell from the desk pushed by the scattered files that she saw the envelope.
A plain white envelope of good quality but generic untraceable card. Stiff as starch. She had a good idea what it would contain, had seen one before perched jauntily in the hands of a victim. A man dressed in army fatigues carrying no identity papers. Dead from a high velocity arrow piercing the back of his neck. No obvious connection but like this poor soul he was thrown away. Left in a stores bin ready for collection day.
Opening the envelope gingerly Golda finessed out the contents with a tweezers snatched from her purse. Sure enough it contained a sheet of printer paper incongruous to the fancy envelope. There was a basic blocky picture of a grinning skull set about a winged form and a solitary line of print. Mundane wording that shouldn’t but did convey a chill.
January Eighteen….21:00....Hollow Ridge….Enjoy!
**** **** **** ****
Golda looked at her watch. It was already quarter to nine and so far everything looked normal. Dreary, wet, cold but normal. She stopped her pacing when her foot slid on some leaves, stood glaring at the soggy mess as she wiped her boot clean. At least the rain had stopped now. Moments earlier it had been thundered down as if the very heavens had opened. The sky still looked heavy. The darkness unrelieved by streetlamps and houses, about an hours drive from civilisation yet isolated and aloof. Whatever mystical scientific process were laboured over in the Fenner Pharmaceutical Research laboratories, was not open to prying eyes and no curious spectators were invited to participate or ramble over the extensive grounds admiring natural formations and habitats.
Plucking her mobile from her jeans pocket she checked for missed calls, there were none. Thumbing in a number she confirmed why. No signal. Funny how much we already rely on cell-phones, on the ability to be instantly connected to the someone at any distance. Golda watched the little digital meter but there was no signal to be found, and no sign of her partner turning up either. She was on her own. Golda Horovitz, girl detective at the pinnacle. Eat your heart out Nancy Drew!
Yet Nancy and her compatriots were always assures of success and safety at their missions end. The huge metal gates in front of Golda creaked and groaned effects worthy of the latest gothic horror and as her watch hands flinched to form a perfect the right angle and signal the dawn of nine o’clock they started their own movement. After the original protest the gates swung open smoothly, a mechanical buzz of machinery in motion. The imposing metal bars were new and well maintained, the netting and barbs to discourage visitors without tear.
A powerful spot-light flashed on just within the perimeter, the sudden light startling. The gravel path stretched out to the distant building, silent yet taunting. Golda debated her options. She wasn’t a girl to flee at the slightest provocation. For any woman survival in the male dominated ranks of the police force took determination. And moxie. They’d chisel it on her slab; Golda Moxie Horovitz. Not just surviving but excelling in the process. She reached her decision in very little time. Shouldering the whimsy that threaten Golda stalked back to her car, perching there a hip thrust to the car bonnet she took up a tablet of paper and biro. Writing in a plain neat print she informed her absent partner that she was going in ahead. Sliding a torch from her glove box into the generous pockets of her coat she zipped up and moved on out.
The gates started closing before she reached them. Her mysterious host controlling them wasn’t prepared to wait. By the time she walked the short distance back there was room for her to walk comfortably through and no lee-way. They snicked shut behind her. Locking her in the enclosure. Standing firm Golda surveyed her surrounds. There was an empty guard house up ahead flanking the path. Huge barriers crossed the road barring unauthorised traffic. The single spot-light was ample for reading the warning signs, the same that were posted at the outer gates warning of the penalty of trespassing. Telling you the guards here were armed and suggesting that shots fired be fatal.
‘Hello. Hello, this is Golda Horovitz’
No answer. She hadn’t expected one. But what now? Striding forward senses trained and alert she waited for the next signal. Their move. As she stepping out of the lights furthest reaches it zapped out without warning. Golda glanced back thoughtfully. Sensors would be to elaborate for the drive of a research laboratory, for all talk of this being a high end facility these places were generally reliant on grants. The alternative was someone was watching. Cameras were mounted out of sight reporting her every move to someone playing with her as Cat with Mouse. Moving slowly towards the post of the next light she watched for it to snap on but her watcher waited, leaving her alone in the dark. Gathering up the torch had been a good instinct.
A loud explosion broke the stifling silence of the night. Far right away from the buildings. Smaller secondary blasts echoed after it in rapid succession. Not so alone after all.
Reflex had her gun in cupped in her hand and her finger on the trigger. Spinning around she scanned the area. Nothing was moving. Crouching to make a smaller target she run to the bushes and moved in the direction of the sound. The wet foliage slapped in her face and sent droplets of cold rain water down the neck of her jacket. A grumble overhead warned of another deluge due to fall. Pausing she thought she identified another sound, the thrumming of propellers hovering in the near distance. The weather provided an effective mask and she couldn’t be certain it wasn’t her ears playing tricks. There was a rustling ahead of her, indications of life that took precedent over any extraneous factors.
As Golda crept steadily forward the next noise to reach her ears could not be mistaken. Dry retching as someone regurgitated the contents of an empty stomach. She stood up relinquishing her shelter and pointed her gun at the heaving form. Although his own retching had hidden her approach cat like sense came into play and he spun around at the last minute drawing his own gun and facing her.
They were at a stand off.
‘Drop. Your. Weapon’
He met her direct stare unflinching and looking him over she saw a man of average height with a thin wiry strength. Ropey muscles flexed under all black clothing, he was wary and on full alert.
‘Identify yourself’
He didn’t answer but glanced away from her at the mess a dozen or so steps behind him; it reminded him of his purpose and steadied his hand. Golda followed his eyes and forced her lips together tight as her own gorge rose, gag reflex kicked in. The sight explained the retching. And the explosion.
A man lay torn in two, blood spilling out to feed the foliage. One glance at the glistening snakes of intestine unravelling on the ground told her he was dead, even at this distance she could judge the futility of rushing for a pulse check. Her weapon must of faltered because the man took a step forward, but she quickly righted it and looked at him her eyes narrowing to pure flinty steel. The remains could well turn-up in the next garbage can but she would not be joining them and this unsub was not about to get away.
‘Look, I’m Leon. Leon Sprengelmeyer. You’re a cop right? A cop out here.’ his voice hoarse from the recent heaves trailed off, the look he levelled on her held suspicion. He recognised the police though. Signal enough that he had previous dealing with them.
‘Horovitz. Detective Golda Horovitz, Homicide’ She raised an ironic brow as she glanced to the mess of human remains behind him. ‘and this appears to be a homicide’
‘Yes’ Leon didn’t bother to prefabricate. ‘But there’s more going on here than a simple homicide. Much more’ He looked her over seeing a neat athletic looking woman, her drizzled appearance did nothing to hide her strength and resolve. After a lifetime of avoiding the coppers he found himself hoping to make an ally of one. ‘The fact you’re here at all suggests you already know some of it’
Without lowering her gun Golda reached into her left hand pocket and withdrew a copy of her invite. The original still at the station being processed. Leon if this was his real name nodded, not needing to be able to read it to recognise the emblem even in the dark.
‘That’s what they showed me. The dark or death angel. That’s only part of it.’
‘What the rest?’
Watching her carefully Leon lowered his gun, Golda did the same though she kept it to hand and ready should he make any hostile move.
‘I was told to reach a lab. Warned of a hunter’ He jerked his head behind him. Looking pale and clammy yet. ‘Given a map and instructions on how to breach it’ He sent a quick shifty glance to her at that suggesting there was more to the simple words than on the surface.
‘I’m investigating a number of homicides. Got the invite in the mail.’
‘The answers you want will be at the lab.’
‘And I should trust you?’
‘No. No, don’t trust anyone’
There was a measured tone to his voice that had her believing him. She’d keep her gun to hand, but following him was a better option than standing around here with the Halloween mannequin of a corpse, unknown others and no communication to the outside world.
‘Lead on’
The calm directive stood between them as he considered. He took own advice of not trusting and refusing to turn his back to her he indicated she join him. They followed the maps route together, side by side. United in purpose but not trusting.
After a long trudge though waterlogged ground they came upon a trail. Prints of running steps where someone had fled before them. Crossed in place by further passage as they neared a ledge. The facilities grounds were immense to Golda’s knowledge there was a river bisecting the grounds and in some places cave formations. The ravine ahead said they were now close to the river. The trail lead over and to a rocky ledge. Leon shooting her a wary look held his map under the beam of her torch.
‘That’s where the X is’
‘And X marks the spot’
He gave a nervous smile and clamouring through the ravine lead the way north along the ledge, having to sheath his gun in order to feel along the wall. Golda paused to run her torch over the ground ahead, there was one perfect print where the soft soil met the rocky ledge. A dog print. Judging by the indent a large dog at that.
Leon looked questioningly over his shoulder and Golda silently pocketed her torch and more reluctantly her gun, in order to follow. She’d fired the gun only once in her career of law enforcement. Out of necessity and in self defence. At the time and for ages afterwards the sound had stayed with her. The bullet moving as in slow motion as it hit it’s target and blood bloomed on a pristine white shirt. Right now the gun was security. The one thing she relied on and made her feel safe.
‘Here’
Golda peered at where Leon was indicating but saw nothing. Feeling with her hand she felt the cold of metal and ridges where words had been subscribed. A name plague on a cliff face in the middle of a forest. She met Leon’s eyes and seeing that she’d found it he nodded briskly and continued on, purposeful now he’d confirmed his bearings. When they came to a curtain of vines he pushed unerringly through into the concealed caves. Took the second passage from the right where the caves branched, with out any sign of hesitation. Whoever this Leon Sprengelmeyer was he wasn’t without courage. Nimble too, she mused as he stepped lightly into the creek that run down the tunnel. Running higher than elsewhere reached mid-calf.
‘Leon, are you sure this is the right path it’s getting narrower’
The light dipped as he turned to see her causing his torch to bounce. He showed her the map, battered now, and wet from the journey here.
‘It says second route from the right’ Golda confirmed, pointing her torch to the path ahead of them the stronger beam hitting a smooth expanse of wall with no visible crack in it.
‘This must be it’ Leon whispered pensive as his hand touched the wall. He rapped it with a knuckle and it sounded just as you’d expect a thick layer of rock to sound. No hollow echo or magic entrance.
‘Open Saysme’
Leon muttered then winked at Golda pulling a small tape recorder from some hidden pocket he thumbed a button and a loud ear-splitting bark sounded in the narrow cavern.
‘Sorry’ muttered Leon as they both started. He fumbled with the devise and when he again set it the sound was modified if no more logical an utterance.
This time there was a result. The smooth rock slid silently open revealing a small open and metal door with a hi-tech scanning device attached. Moving forward together they were crammed tight when the rock face again shifted and closed sealing them in the claustrophobic room.
‘And now?’
‘Not a problem’ Bizarrely Leon sounded almost cheerful by this predicament. He paused and seemed to hold his breath a moment. Probably a good idea in the limited air supply they had in here. ‘Close you eyes cop’ he muttered.
There wasn’t enough light for her to see what he was doing but she felt the odd elbow in the gut as he finessed the controls and heard the sound of pleasure from him as the door swung open with a sigh of pressured air.
A melodious female voice greeted them via some hidden speaker.
‘Good evening guests, we’ve been waiting for you. The time is 12.47 hours pm. You’re very wet, I have towels ready for you. I’ve put fresh coffee on. Please proceed. We’re waiting for you’