I could feel everyone– even the dead bodies – glancing at me.
“My mother was a professional dancer. Her greatest passion was the Viennese Waltz. I know every step by name and this one is definitely the reverse fleckeryll.” I rushed towards the front pair and knelt carefully, pointing at the boy’s feet. “Look at that. The motion of the feet and the position of the leg. The resemblance is uncanny.” Then I proceeded to the other. “This is supposed to be the next exact step. Perfect in synch.” I smirked and chuckled. “Officer Wyler, apparently our killer didn’t pay that much attention to the details. These steps,” I pointed once again, are slightly off. Let’s presume that they were actually dancing. This guy, the blonde one, would end up flat on the floor with a stance like this, hurting himself in the process. It’s wrong.” Not that it mattered, but my instinct was tickling the insides of my mind. I kept this information in the back of my head, knowing that the others would immediately forget it.
“So, he wanted to give a performance?” Aaron questioned and I nodded as I returned next to the chief.
“A puppeteer who just placed his first puppets.” Charles sighed and looked at me, as if I had the answers that everyone was looking for. “Do you think he will strike again?”
“Possibly. Why stop now?” I lit up a smoke from my pack and took a deep sip. “He just let us know of his presence. Now, he needs to make our time worthwhile.”
The echo of raining reached my ears, and I closed my eyes to that sound. Storms, thunders, the violent strike of raindrops on the windows and the street had this healing effect on me. It was going to be a long night, and I wouldn’t spend it on my bed nor in the arms of some beauty. I needed some peace of mind to get through this.
After a little while, the beautiful symphony was disrupted by the ambulance. Sudden rain apparently held them off all this time. I watched Hartman with the help of other two colleagues carefully cutting the fish strings and placing the bodies inside the bags and onto the beds that the meds had just brought in.
“It’s not like we deserve a good day’s rest, as well.” Aaron joked.
I lit up yet another cigar. “What about the identities of the gentlemen?” I proceeded with the next question as I walked towards Hartman.
Informing the family of the deceased had always been the hardest part. Mothers would break down, fathers would try to console them but at the same time they were collapsing as well. You were just a messenger, in the end. The messenger of very bad news, and whether you caught the killer or not, it never mattered. You would always be the person who found their kids dead.
“None. I guess we are going to have to search around for recent disappearances or kidnappings.” He wasn’t happy saying this and I wasn’t excited either.
“Chief!” all three of us turned as Aaron brought in a man, soaked from the sudden storm.
“What is it, now?” Charles turned, annoyed and with his big, thick eyebrows frowning.
“I am so sorry for the intrusion, officers.”
My eyes were instantly fixed on his. They were a dark shade of blue and for a brief second, I felt them staring into my soul.
“Ah, Mr. Soar. I am not surprised to see you here.”
“I came as soon as I noticed the commotion.”
Police Department, 715 S Broad Street, New Orleans.
One and half an hour later.
“So, Mr. Valentine Soar, what exactly is your business with the police?”
Charles made sure to dump this guy to me. Apparently, they knew each other, and the feelings of spite were rather mutual.
“Hasn’t Mr. Davis told you, yet?”
“As you can tell, no.” he didn’t like my answer, or better yet – my answer was not what he expected. I observed him, while he remained silent. He was a fair man, with slick-back blondish hair, big round eyes coloured in a mix of grey and blue. His face was thin, yet it suited him in an unusual way. His slim body was giving off the impression of a healthy man who occasionally was exercising enough to maintain his good posture. And his clothing was impressive. They matched perfectly with the vibe that the Phoenix Hall was generating; one of a yester era. Valentine was sitting with a straight torso and leaned to the side, lost perhaps in his thoughts. I quickly glanced over at the clock. It was already three o’clock after midnight.
“What exactly should I be aware of, Mr. Soar?” I asked, wishing for an answer this time.
“Chief Davis is not that fond of me as you certainly must have noticed,” he turned his focus completely on me and leaned closer to the desk. Those piercing eyes of his were stabbing mine like a pair of perfectly sharp blades. “I don’t blame him. I too would be annoyed if anyone was so eager to get involved in…strange tides.” He smirked and returned to his original stance, yet his gaze was glued on me. “I am a graduate of Princeton University. My major was Psychology, and it would be my greatest delight to assist in your investigation.”
“I believe if Chief Davis was in need of a psychiatrist, then he’d let you in-”
“Psychologist,” the man corrected me, “I am no doctor, detective. I have no authority to prescribe drugs or examine the human brain and body. I am simply a man who observes and understands the mind a bit better than others. I have also spent many months studying in depth the theory of Behaviorism. Through it I can analyse better and create an advanced profile for the killer; a profile that can lead you closer to the truth.” I sighed and leaned back on my chair. I was never one of those who were against this kind of studies and theories. As the son of a mentally ill woman, I was aware of the brain’s complexity and how easily-as any other organ in our body-it could break.
“Alright, let us assume that your help is as valuable as you say. Why get involved in something so dangerous? You will be a liability the moment we come across our murderer. Either you or me, or any other officer can be targeted and shot dead.”
Valentine kept his silence. I couldn’t tell if he was searching for the right kind of answer or if he was considering my warning.
“I appreciate your concern, detective, but I am not planning on getting involved too deeply. I will silently observe, listen, and pay close attention to details that your methods might miss.” The whole time he was talking, my eyes were watching his hands, rubbing each other. Indeed, the room was not warm, and apparently, I had gotten used to it. Once he noticed me, he put on a charming smile and pulled out of his coat pocket a pair of gloves. “I am sorry. I’ve always been sensitive to the cold.”
“I can tell…” was all that I could say before I groaned lightly. “Listen, Mr. Soar, it is not in my place to go against the chief’s orders. I understand that you want to help, and I believe that your knowledge could be of service, but I am afraid-”
“You are going to reject me.” He spoke first with disappointment. “Very well, then.” He stood up, straightened his long coat, and smiled softly. “Thank you for listening to me, detective Dandeline. Do note that my offer still stands and whenever you change your mind, this' ' he handed me a small card with an address and a phone number, “is where you can find me. I work for the University as a substitute teacher on weekdays and I stay in the office until late in the evening, but I can always find time for you.”
And with those words he was gone. I watched him walking away, wearing his scarf, and losing himself outside the building and within the silent streets of the city. I could still sense the disappointment in his voice as I rejected him. I got up and walked to the chief’s office, knocking on his door, and entering before receiving an answer.
“Are you done with him?” he asked while filling out a tone of paperwork. One mug of coffee was on his left and the ashtray half-full on his right.
“He just left.” I leaned against the door.
“I swear, if this kid appears again, it will be his head I’ll be aiming with my gun.”
I laughed as I folded my arms, yet I still was thinking of his words.
“Alright, speak your mind, Dandeline.”
“What if he can be helpful?”
Charles shot me with his glance. He dropped his pen and leaned backwards with an annoyed look on his face.
I sat down. “We are searching for evidence that is not there. The bodies left us with nothing but a couple of stitches and the ballroom hall as clean as your mother’s floor. We have nothing to hold onto. We have nothing to point us at the killer.”
“And you believe that the psychology crap will do the job for us?”
I took a deep breath, “I believe that it might be some sort of start. We can give him a chance. We can show him pictures of the crime scene. If his line of thought makes sense, then we keep him. If not, then he goes back to wherever he came from. We have nothing to lose, Charles, but we have lots to gain if it works out.”
The silence was killing me. Charles played with his tongue, rubbing his front teeth behind his dry lips. His breathing was loud and fast. He wasn’t happy with this, and he wasn’t happy with his decision either.
“This will be on you, Dandeline. If he fails and there are consequences, it will be you facing them.”
“What if he succeeds?”
“I’ll buy you the most expensive whiskey your tongue has ever tasted. The best in all Louisiana!”
Comments (19)
See all