After the Morning After, installment 2

Detectives Ernie Matthews, Jason Bolger, and Joyce Wolfe were standing nearby. They had been waiting patiently for for their tasks. The three started towards the elevator. Detective Love met them halfway.

Each of them were professionals and knew the drill, but, as Love was the senior detective at the precinct she got to call the shots. This sometimes bothered the others, but it did make sense in that no one went running off on a tangent, or duplicating effort, or doing anything really stupid.

There they stood, amidst the noise in the hall, the four of them, quiet. Amy gathered her thoughts. Residents were yelling from their doorways, complaining about being kept there. Amy let loose a heavy sigh, “Alright, this perp is brutally sick and twisted. Matthews, you check everything and everyone that has anything at all to do with these elevators.” Ernie started to speak, Amy cut him off with a raised hand, “I know! That elevator looks nasty. We can not assume that it is the crime scene, it may just be the dumping site. We need to know if that elevator was out of service for any period of time at all last night or this morning. I need you to check out every single inch of every room that has anything to do with the system. Got me?”

“That's going to take some extra eyes. I'll need a few techs and a couple of uniformed officers, maybe four, at least.”

Amy stared at him for a moment, “Well? Get going!” Ernie took off at a quick pace to get the personnel he needed and get started.

“Bolger, you and Wolfe jump in with the uniforms doing interviews. Get names and chase down leads. I want you to find everyone and anyone who may have wanted this guy dead.”

Jason skewed up his face a little and asked Amy, “Do we know his name yet, Detective?”

Amy looked at Jason angrily, “Do want me to do your job for you? Maybe his name is on a lease here! Maybe the residents here know his name! Maybe Stewart found a wallet on the body! You're a detective, or at least supposed to be, go do your job!”

Realizing that the hallway had gone quiet, Amy looked around. She had an uneasy feeling in her gut. It felt like she was being watched. Almost everyone was looking at her in shock. “Oh, shit, I'm sorry, Jason. I shouldn't have yelled like that.” She said to herself, that would attract attention to myself

Jason relaxed a bit, “No. It's fine. From what I saw, peaking over your shoulder into that little slice of shit, it's a real mess, nasty, Chief.” He paused for a few moments to allow Amy to regroup her thoughts and to let everyone else get moving again. “Joyce and I will need some back up with this task, there's a lot of people to interview that want to get out of this building.”

“Take what you two can find, we're spread pretty thin. Just get the job done.” Amy turned and headed for Pipkin's door. “Oh, I'll send you all a text in a while with our meeting time. We need to all talk over what we have tonight, maybe first thing in the morning.”

LOVE TALKS TO GABRIELLE PIPKIN

The door to the condominium was unlocked. The officer opened it after checking Amy's ID. She found herself standing at the edge of a large and expensive room. The living room was 25x25, had leather furniture with polished end tables that looked like real wood, not the laminated ones she had in her apartment. “Damn, my place could almost fit inside here. Well, most of it , anyways.”

On the wall to her right there were tall bookcases. That was when she took note of the height of the ceiling in the room. It had to be 15 feet high. Yes, there was a sliding ladder on rollers that went from one end of the bookcase to the other.

In the middle of the bookcase was a fireplace. Gas, she figured. Above the mantel was a slightly curved television. Everything in the room scream high quality and higher dollars. From what Amy saw, the rest of the place was just as expensive and elegant as the two rooms she saw. A uniformed officer waved Amy towards the den where Gabrielle was getting checked out by the paramedics and was waiting for her.

The den was small and dimly lit. It was actually kind of cozy and welcoming. Amy felt herself relax a bit as she walked in. She thought, I can see why the paramedics chose this room to bring Pipkin to, this is real nice.

Looking at the paramedics sitting with Gabrielle, Amy asked, “How is she?”

“Well,” replied one medic, “medically she's fine. In perfect health, so far as we can tell, Detective.” The two then packed up their gear and left.

Gabrielle was on the love sear, huddled in the corner like a terrified puppy. Her eyes were wide with shock as if she had only just then been looking into the elevator. Granted, Amy reminded herself, it had only been a short while, less than an hour since Gabrielle had found the victim in the elevator.

“Hi, Gabrielle. I'm Detective Amy Love. I understand that you are the one who found the,” Amy always hesitated slightly at this point, never knowing how to truly classify the dead person, “victim ...”

“Craig.” Gabrielle interrupted, but barely audibly.

“Pardon?”

Gabrielle turned to face Amy directly, “His name is Craig. Craig Williams.” She then choked back tears.

Amy sat down next to Gabrielle. “How well did you know each other?”

Gabrielle looked down at the floor, her eyes closed slightly. Her shoulders slumped even more. Tears came and nothing Gabrielle could do would stop them. Before the tears, Amy knew the two were involved. She knew that Craig had provided for the condo. She knew everything in the way that only another woman could know. When the tears came, Amy reached across Gabrielle's shoulders and pulled her closer. She just held onto Gabrielle and let her cry for several minutes.

“Gabrielle? Sweety? Gabrielle, listen, I need you to get yourself together, honey.”

Gabrielle sat up, grabbed some tissues, and wiped up her face. “I'm sorry. I just ...”

“No, it's perfectly understandable.” Amy placed her hands on Gabrielle's knees, she was trying to keep her focused and, mentally, in the room, “Something indescribably horrible just happened to your husband … “

“No, boss.” Gabrielle swallowed hard before continuing, “He is, umm, was, I guess, my boss and lover. He, uhh, he paid for this place for us, but I still have my place across town. I know that this makes me look like a whore, but he was … I was … we were …” she sighed heavily, almost as if she had given up, and who could blame her, really, “I used my body to get bennies from him. We both enjoyed ...” she started crying again.

Amy stayed with Gabrielle for a few more hours. During which time she, Ernie, Jason, and Joyce had agreed by text to get their tasks done and be ready to talk them over with coffee and donuts first thing in the morning.

Ernie had just left with his task of inspecting the elevators. “So, what am I now, an elevator inspector?” he mumbled to himself as the second elevator gently descended. “Shit, I thought I was a detective.” In a mocking, snide voice and with an odd hip wiggle Ernie retorted to himself very nasally, “Go detect the elevators!” He was more than a little pissy because there were no uniformed officers available to help him out. He did, though, find one crime scene technician to go up to the top of the elevator shaft and climb down. Ernie thought about that and smiled, let that kid get her clothes filthy, 'sides, I'm getting too old for that crap, climbing down elevator shafts and shit.

Just then, Ernie's phone rang. The number on the display, Dorothy Acevedo, the technician, “Talk to me, Dorothy. Are we still in Kansas?”

“Piss off, Ernie, or I'll have Toto bite your ass.” she chuckled. “Listen, you have to get up here and on top of the elevator now, and I mean right now.”

In exasperation Ernie heaved a heavy breath, “Look, Dot, I have to get the computer logs to see if the elevator was shut down. I have to track down these jacks to interview before they slink off to get drunk on their break.” Jacks was how Ernie referred to janitors and similar workers.

“I get that, but I need your butt up here now. Like Marco fast.”

“What? Marco? What the hell are you babbling about?”

“C'mon, Ernie, Marco Polo, the game? Jump into the water fast so you don't get … never mind, just get your old ass up here now, as in five minutes ago, okay?”

“Alright! Alright! Settle down, I'm on my way.” Shaking his head, Ernie turns around and heads back to the elevator.

Minutes later, Ernie found himself just where he did not want to be. Standing on top of the elevator next to Dorothy. In front of them was a bin. The bin itself was about 8 inches deep, had solid edges. It was sticky with brownish material here and there in its basin.

“Good find, Dorothy. This may actually be the crime scene. Look around, see what else might be here that is out of place, alright?”

“Sure. What are you going to do, inspect the bin?”

“Actually, yes. That is exactly what I am going to do.”

Ernie looked at the depth of the bin. How the hell, he asked himself, could a grown man be held down inside a bin like this and tortured? How many perps were they looking for?

An empty wheelhouse, long years of disuse coated the building in dust, rust, vines, and tracks of countless vermin. Still, the antiquated electrical circuits were hooked up to the power grid. It was just the sort of place that Zachary Leach looked for. “And I always get what I look for, because I do not stop looking.” Zachary said to a rat, which ran off to hide in a shadow. “Mr. Craig Williams, I have been looking at you and Miss Pipkin for oh so long.”

He turned on the TV in the corner, placed a DVD into the slot, sat back in an over stuffed chair that still had the thrift store tag on it. He even giggled as he picked up his snacks, and poured a thick dark red liquid from a Thermos into a wine glass.. The video began.

It showed the top of the elevator. A man in a clown mask and green coveralls climbed up with one hand while pulling something in his other hand. Zachary laughed with amusement at this. The mask covered the entire head, neck and down into the shirt with white skin tight material. There was a fluorescent orange stubble around the head where long orange hair once stood out like flame. When the character turned to face the camera, with Craig firmly in his grasp, the hideous face was clearly seen. The high arching eyebrows were perfectly in place over the human, or inhuman, eyes of the man wearing the mask. The nose was tipped with bright red, as were the lips which were drawn back in a hideous grin. An evil grin revealing rows of yellowing, stained, pointed teeth.

Zachary watched with anticipation as he fastened Craig's hands and ankles into police issue shackles, the chains slid into slots along the edges at the corners. The shackles were secured to the top of the elevator, but that was not clearly seen on the video.

Craig was semi-conscious, Zachary slapped him a few times to wake him up. Suddenly, the elevator started moving. It appeared to be going up. Zachary watched himself laughing. Craig started to talk, he wanted to know, rather, began demanding who Zachary was and what the hell was going on. Zachary Landed close to Craig's head. Grabbing Craig's jaw with one hand, Zachary painfully forced his mouth open and stuffed a wad of material deep into Craig's mouth. Nothing more than muffled, unintelligible sounds escaped from Craig after that.

Zachary leaned over Craig, “I understand that you are uncertain about knives.” With that Zachary pulled out a long, thin dagger and waved it in front of Craig's eyes. Craig tried to push his head away from the blade. “Oh, I can see the fear in your eyes, yes. You are afraid of blades, I see. You have this irrational fear that one is going to, somehow, jump out and stick itself into your thigh. Now, since you never tell anyone these deep, dark secrets of yours, how could I know?” Zachary chuckled, “Pillow talk, Craig, you tell your sweet little gal, Gabrielle everything on the pillow.”

As he watched the video of this he recalled that moment, the very moment when Craig's eyes became filled with fears and questions that he knew he would never be able to ask. Questions like how could Zachary have been privy to their pillow talk, and then the deeper fear and violation came. The realization that Zachary had been inside their bedroom during those nights.

Zachary began to stab Craig. As he did so, he counted each stab. He placed the knife against Craig's upper abdomen “Do not fret. I am not going to kill you by piercing any organs.” He pushed the knife in. When he stopped, he said, “That point is your liver. Another quarter inch, I open up your liver, and you die so quickly, We can't have that now, can we? No, we have to make certain that Gabrielle finds you. Still breathing, but only just.” Zachary continued to stab into muscles and body cavity, but never cutting an artery, vein, or piercing an organ.

Finally, putting the knife down, Zachary Put together the rig used to suspend Craig in the elevator. He watched intently as he lowered Craig, bleeding profusely, down into the elevator. He reached into a large duffel bag and pulled out a thermos and a basting syringe. He then filled the thermos with the syringe and tossed that down into the shaft. Once the thermos was put away safely, Zachary then dumped Craig's blood over him. Zachary turned to the camera, “I trust that we enjoyed the show, Detectives” waved, and then turned the camera off.

Next on the video was a view of the hallway. There were several people talking in annoyed tones to the police. They were trying to convince the police to let them go off to work or their other tasks before the detectives got there to interview them. Finally, the first three detectives showed up and stood aside. They seemed to be close friends, and to truly enjoy each others company.

“They must really trust one another,” he paused, “and very deeply. Now, enter the scene, Detective Amy Love. Ahhh, see how she takes control of things … yes …” lifting up the wine glass of blood, he says, “A toast to me.“