The phone rings.
Groaning in annoyance, Christian Connolly takes a sip of water from a glass on the small table in front of him, and puts the television on mute. The mission then begins to find the phone.
Following the ringing sound, he travels throughout his house to the nearest phone. After all, being a rather important person affords you a few extra luxuries in life, one of which is you don’t have to settle for just one phone in the house. Actually… I think that’s pretty normal regardless of whether you’re important or not these days. Oh well.
There it is. Right where he had it last, of course. He picks it up and glances at the key to the city in the cabinet in front of him. A moment of vanity obtained through his time spent with friend Lee Stone. The phone rings one more time and snaps him back. He presses the speak button and holds the phone up to his ear.
“Hello?” He puts on his phone voice. Everyone has that phone voice they use to create a falsified image of niceness. Now in Christian’s case, it’s not a stretch too far to believe. He is a good dude. Sure he’ll get caught up in his own world every now and then, but he’s only human. The difference between him and most people though, is that he will work hard to accomplish what he wants to. That way he knows he fully deserves it. That way everyone knows he fully deserves it.
“Good evening Christina,” a voice on the phone replies. It’s deep and croaky, but ultimately intriguing.
“Who am I speaking to?” Christian asks.
“What’s the matter, don’t you remember me?” A chuckle comes from the phone.
“Forgive me, but I fail to recall anybody who even sounds remotely like you.” There’s a slight amusement in his voice as he says this, heading back to the sofa where he was previously.
“Well perhaps we should get to know each other,” equal amusement is now detected in the voice of the caller.
“Wait… are you hitting on me?” Christian’s amusement has since turned to a hint of disgust. “I hate to disappoint you, but I’m taken.”
“So you’re saying that if you weren’t taken, you’d consider it?” Christian actually laughs out loud at this.
“No dice. My door swings only one way,” he says.
“Well that’s a shame. You sounded pretty.” The eerie chuckle returns.
“And you sound disturbing.” Christian fires back. “Wrap it up there with what you want before I shut this line off.”
“I just wanted to get to know you,” Christian’s eyebrow rises in response to that. “So tell me, do you like scary movies?”
“Oh, great,” Christian sighs in disappointment.
“What?” The voice enquires. “What’s great?”
“Mysterious phone call, asking about scary movies… blah, blah, blah.” He returns to the glass of water from the beginning of this phone sequence. “Let me guess, you’re in the house?”
“How did you know?” The pitch of the unknown voice rises in confusion.
“Please,” he scoffs. “Who do you think you’re talking to? It’s the same old stereotypical tale. Did you never see Scream?”
“Was that the one with Neve Campbell?” he asks.
“Bingo,” Christian confirms. “Surely you could recognise the mask.”
“Mask?” he exclaims. “I was talking about the one with the lesbian scenes!”
“That… that was Wild Things.” Christian shakes his head in disgust.
“Oh. That movie was hot. I should really rent it again.” You can hear the voice trail off as he thinks back to the movie.
“I’d say the same, but you’re probably going to kill me aren’t you?” The calmness of Christian’s voice is just plain strange.
“Well yeah, that’s kind of the whole point of this conversation.” Christian nods, accepting his fate.
“So what do I do? Go take a bath and wait for you to throw the toaster in?”
“Eh… that’s a little too clichéd.” Christian shrugs in agreement. “I was thinking along the lines of you just turning around.”
“Turning around? Isn’t that a bit simplistic?” he complains.
“I’ve got something special planned.”
“Right, of course you do.” Christian now finishes his glass of water in one go. “Do you mind if I make a call first?”
“Don’t worry about calling Meika,” the voice interjects. “I’ve already done it for you.”
“How very thoughtful. You want the game left on?” Christian says reaching for the remote.
“Yeah, I may watch it for a bit.” Christian stays his hand.
“Fair enough. You want to do this now? I’d prefer to get this out of the way.”
“Sounds good to me. Turn around sweetheart.” And so Christian does. A form of sword or blade rigged up to some contraption slices him right in the throat. Okay, maybe “slicing” is the wrong way to describe it. Perhaps “piercing right through” would work better. And for that extra gore factor, out steps the man responsible, dressed in a full black costume and robe, though curiously with a Guy Fawkes mask like the one from V for Vendetta. Wielding a large hook, and I mean large he steps over Christian’s body as blood gurgles out of his throat. Swinging back, he brings it down with power and hooks it right through Christian’s mouth. The body is then dragged away.
The next morning…
“Okay, when are the forensic guys getting here?” Detective Jason asks out loud. “Anybody?”
“They just got here Steve,” Officer Daniel Malcolm pipes up, pointing towards the security tape around the premises. Sliding under the tape, a dark man in a full suit and shades enters the secured grounds.
“Great, a personal visit from the esteemed Dr. Stone.” Detective Jason doesn’t exactly sound pleased. “Couldn’t he have sent one of his underlings like Justin?”
“Well I could have done that Stevie J,” forensic investigator Lee Stone responds using his dog-like hearing. The response already makes Officer Malcolm uneasy as he knows full well how these two operate together. “But when I heard that you were the guy in charge of this investigation, I just couldn’t resist another chance to get some high quality banter in with you.”
“As much as I’d like to entertain myself at your expense Leroy,” the detective says in the unique personalised manner of speech that these two often divulge themselves in, “I’m afraid this is neither the time nor place. Come with me.”
Lee is taken back a little by Steve’s seriousness at this point in time. It’s no fun when there’s only one person playing the game. Following the legendary detective inside the house, it’s not long until the concentration of officers is greatly increased. The room appears to be a living room, and that hunch seems to be confirmed by the fact that the television set has been left on. Two pools of blood are noticeable. One is between the sofa and the coffee table, where an empty glass catches Lee’s eye. The other pool of blood is over by the wall on the far side of the room.
“So where’s the body?” Lee asks. Steve bows his head as he points to the roof above the second pool of blood. His heart skips a beat as he follows Steve’s finger to the roof. What he sees there is horrifying. A man has had knives jammed into various parts of his body, pinning him to the roof. A large wound is visible on the throat, where most of the blood appears to be coming from. More wounds are visible through the cheeks around the mouth region. And then the full image of the face is taken in. Lee’s jaw drops. “Oh Jesus…”
“I’m sorry Lee.” No wonder Steve put aside the bickering for this. The friendship between Lee Stone and Christian Connolly has been well documented.
“I… I didn’t even know this was his house.” Lee looks around nervously, feeling awkward in this environment. “We haven’t talked that much lately. I didn’t even know he had moved.”
“Don’t worry, nobody is judging you for that. I’m sure everybody here would have no problem if you went home and got Justin to take this case.” Steve places a comforting hand on Lee’s shoulder.
“No,” he shakes his head. “No. It may make sense to take some rest to clear your head after something like this, but we both know the kind of guy I am. I won’t be able to rest. My mind will be working at a hundred miles an hour trying to figure this out, so I might as well try to figure it out officially.”
“All right,” Steve says, removing his hand from Lee’s shoulder. “Just don’t neglect your job as a friend at the same time.”
Two days later…
“Any news?” Lee’s assistant Justin Jones pulls up a seat across the desk from where Lee mulls over some papers.
“Nothing. This guy left no finger prints, no DNA, nothing. And with Christian having such a nice guy personality, it’d be hard for anybody to genuinely hate him.” He looks up at Justin in despair. “I hate to say it, but this is the closest I’ve ever seen to the perfect murder.”
“I don’t believe in the perfect murder,” Justin says as he takes the paperwork from my hand and looks at it himself. “Look… I’m going to head off right now. I think you should do the same. Neither of us are going to get anywhere on such little sleep.”
“I’ve tried sleeping,” Lee continues to look out at Justin through exhausted eyes. “I can’t seem to do it though. I’ve just got too much on my damn mind.”
“You’re about to get some more.” The voice comes from the doorway where Detective Jason stands. “Two more dead bodies.”
“Great…” Justin’s natural sarcasm kicks in. Steve now drops two photos down on the desk for Lee to look at. The first shows another man pinned to the roof in the same style as Christian was.
“His name is Eric Anderson.” Lee stares, disgusted at how somebody can treat another human being this way. “The same M.O. as Christian’s death, but without the hole in the throat. The cheeks have still been punctured though, possibly by a hook.”
“Instead he happens to be missing half of his brain,” again Justin comments, now in reference to the top of Eric’s skull being severed off.
“The second victim’s name is…” but Steve doesn’t need to finish. Lee already knows who it is.
“Mike Raboin,” Lee interjects.
“You know him?” Steve asks as Lee bares witness to the photo of Mike’s body. Again it’s pinned to the roof, this time with the largest section of the abdomen missing.
“He’s another friend of mine and Christian’s.” Lee hands the photo over to Justin, who despite his insensitive way of dealing with these images that he sees daily, can’t help but cringe a little.
“Any link between either of these two and Eric?” Steve hopes for some new information to help narrow the list of possible suspects.
“None that I know of,” Lee says, unfortunately disappointing Detective Jason.
“Well there’s another thing you should know now.” It’s rare to see Steve or Lee ever this serious around each other.
“What is it?” Lee looks up showing very little emotion.
“This was found at the scene of Anderson’s murder.” He drops a small note down on the desk in front of Lee. The words are haunting.
“To Dr. Leroy Bruce Stone:
Let him out.”
“I don’t understand.” Lee’s puzzled expression further shows this.
“Neither do we.” Steve looks equally puzzled. “But that is clearly your name. So what I want to know, is if there’s anybody you’ve been very instrumental in putting away who may get outside assistance in order to free them.”
“I usually don’t get involved in the crimes enough to know the people who get charged Steve, that’s your department.” Lee gets to his feet and moves to the window, glancing out at the dark city streets. “My relationship is with the victim.”
“That’s pretty much what I thought,” Steve admits. “Which now leaves us where we started from, but with more bodies. I’ve already had the victims’ backgrounds checked and have a few people in custody who have had problems with these individuals. I figured now that you’ve been mentioned by name, you’d want to come and see all this for yourself.”
“I’ve got to go examine these crime scenes.” Lee’s never been a fan of the police, hence his usual conflict with Detective Jason. Going to a police station is like walking into the den of the enemy, it’s never a pleasant experience.
“No Lee,” Justin interrupts him. “You’ve got a fully competent team. I can arrange for everything to be handled. You should go with Steve.”
“Yeah…” Lee pauses. “Yeah, okay. Lead the way Steven.”
Not long after…
The lab isn’t too far from the police station, so it’s not long before both Lee and Steve walk into the notorious room behind the mirrors of the interrogation rooms. On three sides there are different rooms. In each room an officer is interrogating a different person.
“Who are these guys?” Lee asks, immediately wanting to throttle each one of them.
“This guy over here is called Anthony Pipkins. He’s a reported pimp who goes by the name of Dynamic Dynamite. Christian Connolly has been actively trying to shut down his business lately.” Lee stares through the window at the blonde haired individual in the room and snickers. He’s a jackass, that’s for sure.
“And this guy?” Lee moves over to the next window.