Taddio- The Hellfire Club Mystery (Warning: Adult Content Contained within.)
The Hellfire Club Case
Please note that this story has adult concepts. I suggest that if you are sensitive to these issues please do not read on.
Tiffany pushed her golden red locks from her rain drenched face. She knew it was stupid to run in the rain in the vague hope that she would not get wet but instinct kept her trying to bolt through rainy Grover days. She reached her front door with a relief. Her key slid into the lock and she was about to turn it when a horrific sound made her spin in alarm as her heart jumped through her chest.
It was the sound of dogs' feet running on the rain soaked pavement. The two massive hounds were coming toward her barking. One was as black as night and the other was as pale as ice. She screamed but her sound was drowned in the heavy rain. The dogs did not pause to growl or threaten they simply sprang in the air, teeth bared for the kill.
Tiffany was knocked off of her feet. Her head slammed on the damp concrete pavement and the massive jaws of the beasts loomed over her head. She began to scream in earnest. Her horrified wails were quickly silenced when the black dog ripped her throat out.
The Next Morning
Taddio turned up to work to be swamped by journalists who were swarming around the station like demented locusts. They were buzzing and moving in a random cloud of confusion. That was until a camera man spotted Detective Armando Taddio and started to move with purpose. The swarm then followed the camera man’s lead and pushed toward the fat detective while screaming out questions. They created a deafening cacophony.
The detective put his foot on the accelerator and sped off into to the urban maze of Grover city leaving the journos throwing their arms in despair. After a few turns he pulled his ‘67’ Volvo over and called his partner. Constable Constance Blackwell picked up the phone after just a few seconds. Taddio told Blackwell about what had happened at the station and she told him to meet her at Potty Kate’s, a nearby café.
Armando entered the café as quickly as he could so as to avoid being spotted by the press. Constance waved him over to a dark enclave in the rear of the café. “Hi Taddio, I am glad that the monsters did not corner you. They are camping out the front of the station because another girl has been found. This time it is not a homeless woman or a nameless receptionist. Tiffany Davies the news reporter from Channel 6 is our latest victim.”
Taddio shook his head he now understood the scene that welcomed him on his arrival to work this morning, “Is the modus operandi the same? The symbol brand and everything?” The detective was referring to the fact that a homeless woman by the name of Taddy was found mauled by dogs with a symbol branded on to her face. The coroner identified that the branding was done Post Morten and that it was the dogs that had killed the woman.
It did not take long for Taddio to find out that the symbol was the Egyptian hieroglyph for ‘spirit.’ Less than a week later another woman’s body had been found kilometres from Taddy. She too was murdered by dogs. Her name was Peggy and she was a receptionist at a local tiling company. She was middle aged, single and plump. She was ravaged by dogs as she was sneaking a cigarette during her break. On her face was a brand in the shape of the hieroglyph for water.
Constance took a long sip of her now lukewarm coffee and pulled a face of disgust, “Here is what I think, our perpetrator is working to a time table and they have an agenda. They do not kill out of enjoyment or they would first of all do it themselves and not let the dogs do it. My second point is that they would also do the branding prior to the victims death. They didn’t want to cause the victim any more pain than they had to. I don’t think that there is any connection between the victims themselves. I think our killer is working to his or her own agenda and the victims have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Taddio nodded, he was becoming prouder and prouder of young Blackwell with every case. Music interrupted his musing, it was a tinny version of “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” and it was Armando’s ring tone. He answered the phone. Blackwell watched as his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed, “Yes, Ms Davies, we will certainly follow it up.” He hung up and ran his hands through his thinning hair.
“You are not going to believe this Constance, but that was Tiffany Davies’ sister. She said she has been contacted by a psychic, a certain Ms Violet Vale. This psychic says she has information about the murders.” Taddio’s face clearly depicted the scepticism with which he viewed this type of information.
Blackwell was surprised, “I was rung by the other victim’s families about that psychic. I mean you know how these sorts of cases bring out the Grover crazies from the woodwork. I had three people confess to the crimes last week. I investigated all of those confessions but they were all fakes. I did not think anything of it this supposed psychic.”
Taddio shook his head with disappointment, “You should have told me. I need to know every detail about any active investigation. Even the loony details, never keep information from me again Constable.”
The young officer put her head down and the detective knew his point had hit home, his tone softened, “It is fine, I understand that you will make mistakes. I am training you after all. We need to follow up every detail just in case, no matter how unlikely, the person knows something. These types of thing happen all the time and I have listened to these so called mediums a hundred times. They are always full of tripe but it is damaging to the families if they hold any doubt as to our thoroughness. Their ability to find resolution and move on with their lives is our most important goal. We must never lose sight of this.”
Taddio Meets Ms Vale
Half an hour later they were outside a very normal looking modern townhouse. It was the domicile of Ms Violet Vale. When the owner of the house came to the front door both officers entered into a state of shock.Constance had expected a little old lady dressed like a gypsy. What was in front of her was a tall Chinese man with long curly black hair, false glittered eyelashes and fat ruby red lips. He was dressed in a Playboy pink velour tracksuit tucked into pink Ugg boots, “Well, hello my pretties. I assume you are here about my psychic impressions?”
Taddio recovered his composure quickly, after all it was not the first time he had dealt with drag queens. He knew that behind their cutting wit and thick make-up they were very vulnerable people. As a rule they were conflicted between their desire to be accepted like anyone else and to be thought of as exceptional and beautiful, “Good afternoon Ms Vale. Myself and Constable Blackwell were contacted by the victims’ families about your abilities. I trust that you do have information about the deaths because if you were to do this out of a perverted sense of fame it would be most distressing.”
Ms Vale let the two officers into the townhouse. The interior was completely decked out in faux Miami style deco. Pink neon and flamingo’s were in plentiful supply. The 1980’s discothèque style was jarring. As Constance sat down on the dove grey leather settee she let the whole thing sink in. Staring at the managerie made one feel dizzy.
Ms Vale begged to be excused and came back with two strawberry frappes served in frosted martini glasses. The officers took the drinks and gave their customary polite but fake sip. One of the first rules of being a cop was always accept food and drink while on duty as it comforts people but never fully consume it. The police never fully consumed the offerings just in case it was drugged, poisoned or more likely, spat in.
Violet took a large sip of his/her drink and then spoke “You probably think I am making this up but I am not. I am Chinese and fortune telling and psychic matters are much more accepted in my culture. I have always had a knack for knowing where lost things are and for reading people’s health conditions. I use it a great deal in my profession. I am a herbalist inChinatown. I don’t wear this type of get-up at the shop. The Chinese are not forgiving about gender confusion. Anyway I had a dream about your case. I could see myself walking in the rain. I was wet all over. There were two dogs coming for me. One was black and it was a Rottweiler. The other was white and it was an albino German Sheppard. I could not see the man but I heard his whistle. He was using a sporting whistle and it blew three times. The dogs stopped attacking but it was too late, I was dying. I then saw a fire surround my face. I then saw a pentagram floating above me. I don’t know what it meant but I knew it was not a normal dream. I had two similar dreams about the other two in the case of receptionist my face was under water and with the homeless woman I was covered in gin.”
Taddio listened gravely, “Your information is accurate about many aspects with regard to this crime. May I ask where you were when they occurred?”
Ms Vale laughed with a thick throaty laugh, “Typical at first you guys don’t believe me and now you do you think I did it. I was on stage when these murders happened. If you don’t believe me go to 201, it is a place down town, the owner Candy Cane will confirm I was there.” Taddio smiled and shook Ms Vale’s hand and he signalled to Constance to leave. He left his card with Violet with the usual request that a call be made should anything else come to mind.
The two officers went to 201 but the sign on the door said that it would not open until ten o’clock at night. Taddio decided too chance the station and see if the journos had tired of their stakeout so that he and Blackwell could return to the case file. When they arrived at the station they were in luck. Obviously something else had happened and the press had fled to that. The officers were able to enter without undue harassment.
Once back in their office Taddio and Blackwell looked at their board. Blackwell used string and pins to connect the three murders that had taken place so far to form a pentagram. Ms Vale’s clue about the pentagram played out and the location of the bodies did conform to the shape. Taddio placed the Egyptian symbols over each location according to the victim's brandings
Blackwell commented, "Odd that they are using a pentagram and Egyptian Hieroglyphs, are they not of two different cultures?” Blackwell inquired.
Taddio considered her words before replying, “Our killer is either sloppy about their research or rather, and I think this is the case, they are smart enough to ensure that we would not connect a pentagram with the figures they used.”
Constance stood back, her face displaying puzzlement as she examined their new findings, “The thing I don’t understand is how the brandings were done? I mean you need the tool to be hot in order to brand- don’t you? Would that not imply that the killer could not have done this on the run but rather would they not have a lair of sorts?”
Taddio considered Blackwell’s question before his face lit up, “Come with me.” The young Constable went to grab her coat but then Armando told her that she would not need it and he grabbed his sandwich. The two of them walked out to the front of the station where the vehicles for police were found. She wondered why Taddio was taking his lunch.
Taddio opened the door of his black ‘67’ Volvo and turned on the ignition. Instead of pulling out however he just sat there.Constance sat on the passenger side in utter bewilderment. Just then there was a small popping sound and Taddio pulled out the cigarette lighter. He placed it on the sandwich and there was a slight smell of burning. He lifted it up and there on the bread was a perfect swirl shape from the lighter’s element.
Taddio put the lighter back and held up the sandwich, “See Blackwell, these older cars came equipped with lighters and these certainly can brand. It would only be a small adjustment to alter the shape of the element. The size and composition of the bradings does suggest that a tool of this nature was used.”
Constance stared at the swirl branded bread, “So the killer has a car that is equipped with a built in lighter.”
Taddio shook his head, “Possibly but a similar concept could be done in a mobile form. All one would need is a car battery all that is needed is 12 volts. It would be heavy though. This might explain the dogs. The weight of the battery would prevent the killer from running or moving quickly if they had to carry such a contraption. This would be why the killer needs the victim killed prior to the branding. Such a cumbersome item would be unwieldy. Unfortunately it also means that any one could jig this contraption up and there is no way that we could track them down using this new information. However our killer must have something like this or a car with cigarette lighter in it and it will help us pin it on the suspect should we ever find one.”
Blackwell considered this, “Is it only old cars that have cigarette lighters?”
Taddio answered, “The cigarette lighter started to become used to heat kettles, watch televisions and power small electrical items. Over time the manufacturers designed a better port for this and the lighter disappeared. The lighters were dangerous to children who were burnt and they caused accidents. Cars that are roughly ten years old still have them. It is not much to go on but it does mean that there may or may not be a lair. If there is a lair then it is a mobile one. The coroner suggests that the victims died shortly before being located and there are no signs of movement. Still that does not mean it did not happen. We do know that the killer probably has access to 12 volts of power.”
Taddio lent back into the leather seat of his Volvo, “What we do know is where these murders are going to occur. The pentagram told us that the location for the next murder is going to be around the corner of Bacon Street and Elway Avenue. We are going to need some help though staking it out. Let’s go and see the Chief.”
As they exited the car Blackwell asked, “There are five points on that pentagram that leaves two possible locations. How do you know which one it will be in?”
Taddio grinned and held up a black and white printout. The paper depicted a pentagram all five points were labelled with the words, ‘Spirit,’’Water,’ ‘Fire,’ ‘Earth,’ and ‘Air,’ “So far the use of the symbols suggested that the killer is going clockwise around the pentagram. It is astonishing how many killers gravitate towards symbols and the pentagram is particularly common.”
Blackwell was still concerned, “You are probably right Taddio, still, I think we need two teams on this one. We should cover both locations.”
Taddio nodded, “Alright I will lead the Bacon Street team and you lead the Catherine Street team. I don’t like being split up but we have little choice. I lectured you on being thorough so we must be sure to cover every base.”
THE STAKEOUT
Soon they were in the Chief’s office. Gene was guzzling ‘tea’ which was more likely Bourbon as fast as he could. He was dealing with the tower of paperwork that was threatening to land on his head. Taddio ran through the case and put his request into the Chief who replied, “So what you’re telling me is that your best lead is in the form of a Chinese cross dressing quack who believes HE or SHE has a direct line into the psychic realm. Taddio, I always thought you were one of my best detectives but, fuck, if the best I have is an obese crazy asshole detective then Grover is in real trouble.”
Taddio took his Chief’s colourful language in his usual stride, “Chief, I may be over weight and crazy but I am usually right. I will deal with the source of information later and how credible it is. But right now, if it means saving a life, I will take what ever I can get. I would rather be at these locations and be wrong rather than be here at the station and be wrong.”
The Chief grunted and then went to leave his tomb of a desk to go co-ordinate his officers. As he got up he knocked over the mountain of manila folders on his desk and this led to another tirade. His profanity calmed some what when Constable Blackwell raised her eyebrows at him. Only Constancecould exercise any measure of control over their firebrand boss. Gene always tried to watch his ‘f-words’ when around her. Usually though he lost his temper and all modicum of self control.
Roughly half an hour later Taddio was with the Bacon Street team and Blackwell was with the Catherine Street team. Constance was excited. She had never been left before to co-ordinate an operation and she did not want to leave any stone unturned. She kept checking and rechecking that the officers were in their designated positions and that communication lines were clear.
Over at Bacon Street Taddio was less thrilled about the operation. These things could take hours or even days. There was no way to know the killer’s timetable. If the killer did not make an appearance soon then the Chief would force them to shut down the operation.
Taddio was right. Hours and then days passed without a murmur of action at the locations. Gene could not withstand the loss of his officers any more and pulled them back. Taddio and Blackwell had no choice but to try to maintain a watch on the locations themselves. Gene was nice enough to put two of the day shift on to cover them when they went off duty he even let them have two cadets to help them on their shifts.
Constance was missing Taddio, she was used to him being around and his presence was a comfort. She was stuck on Catherine Street day after day stuck in an empty apartment with Tom, her cadet. He was eager to please and his enthusiasm was contagious. Tom was a farm boy who came to the big bad city to test himself and serve the public.
The investigation had all but ground to a halt as Taddio and Blackwell were tied up with the stakeout. She knew her location well. She knew when the stores opened and who lived in the apartments over each store. In a way watching Catherine Street through her lens was becoming an obsession. The movements of the Catherine Steet residents had become the cheif source of discussion topics between Constance and Tom.
Blackwell was watching the young girl who Constance had mentally nicknamed ‘Betsy’ skip on her way home from school. Betsy was always coming home late because she stayed back at a ballet studio to practice her dancing. Betsy was dancing home as she danced with her red umbrella. The little girl’s plaits bounced as she bounded on the street. Suddenly a shape fell from above and splattered at the little girl’s feet. The shape that had fallen was in the shape of a human body. Constance looked up at the roof of the building that over shadowed young Betsy. Blackwell saw a shape in a long black hooded raincoat turn and flee.
Blackwell yelled at her rookie, Tom, to radio for back-up and she ran out of the apartment. She bolted down the stairs taking two at a time.
The young fit Blackwell shoved the glass door open and ran across the street at top speed. She only narrowly avoided being collected by a car. She then darted up an alley way that was next to the building where she saw the figure. Constance went up a ladder that led to a rusty fire escape. This left her at the top floor. She took off across the roof her mind and body focused on capturing the killer. When she reached the far side of the roof she looked down to see the figure running across the street. She spied a drainpipe and slid down it her hands were cut but her target was closer.
She made it to the bottom in time to see Tom coming around the corner. She ran as fast as she could in the direction of the figure. Blackwell was always a quick runner and she was making up ground. The figure turned to see her approaching, she could not make out a face as the heavy rain and the figure’s hood obscured her vision. The figure tried to gain more speed but Constance could see that they were tiring. She felt a thrill of victory. She had this crook, they were about to be nicked. Then the figure took out a gun just as an old man came around the corner. The figure opened fire on him.
The old man was flung backward by the force of the bullet and fell into the street. Blackwell could not do anything. She had to stop to help the old man. Tom ran passed her and continued the pursuit. Constance was checking on the state of the old man when she heard more shots ring out. The old man was dead. Blackwell jumped up and sprinted in the direction of the shots.
As she turned the corner she saw the body of Tom. His face had been blown to hell and the bloody pulp that had replaced Tom's open cheerful expression was unrecognisable as human.
Blackwell sat down next to Tom. The whole thing was a mess. She had not stopped the killer. An old man and her young cadet were dead. She noticed for the first time as she really looked at Tom that he was very young. His physique was still that of a boy, he would never grow to be a man.
Tom had been proud to have been called up out of the academy to do this duty. She remembered how every word and every expression he had ever expressed was full of deferential respect. Constable Blackwell had been a hero to the cadet. She was his leader and he was her fan but she had not protected him from dying on his first case.
Blackwell sat as the rain poured on her. Her tears were being eaten by the rain. Tom’s blood was pooling around her. She held his hand and kept saying sorry over and over again. Soon Taddio was there and he saw his young protégé rocking backward and forward chanting ‘Sorry’ to a corpse. The whole scene reminded him of when he had let his previous partner Smith down. He knew exactly the hell that Constance was in.
Armando also knew the cure. The Constable would have to be made busy again. She needed this case now. If she stopped for a moment then fear, guilt and anxiety would render her useless. He walked over and gathered her slight frame up in his large arms. He directed her to his car, “Blackwell, you have exactly ten minutes to cry this out and then you and I will go and catch this killer. Do you understand me?” Blackwell nodded and huddled against the car side window to bawl and weep. Taddio opened up his enormous arms and allowed her to drench his shoulder with tears of rage and guilt.
Shortly afterward Armando put his foot on the accelerator and they came to the location where the body had been dumped from the top of the building. They got out of the car and they saw that the young woman had been ravaged by dogs only this time her feet and hands were bound with tape and the branding scar was old.
Taddio shook his head, “Our killer changed his modus operandi instead of killing, branding and running, they picked up this poor girl and completed the killings else where. The killer then dumped the body here to complete their pattern. I think the branding still happened post morten though. Our killer still does not enjoy causing pain.”
TADDIO COMES FACE TO FACE WITH HELLFIRE
Suddenly the tune of “Are You Lonesome Tonight” sounded and the detective picked up his phone, “Hello Ms Vale…I see…’Cameron’s Cauldron’…we will look into it, bye.”
He turned to Constance whose eyes were still bloodshot, “Another tip from Ms Vale, apparently there was another dream and this time the person was killed in a location called ‘Cameron’s Cauldron’ before being dumped here. Violet also tells us that the symbol on the victim’s face is the symbol for ‘Earth.’ I already knew that but it is interesting that Ms Vale did too. Before we go to ‘Cameron’s Cauldron’ I am going to give the Chief a call and get him to put in a full round the clock team on Bacon Street then we are going to go to 201.”
The Constable replied, “That is right, we were going to go there to check out Ms Vale’s alibi when we became distracted with this stakeout. You don’t trust our medium then?”
Taddio shook his head, “No, I trust hunches and instinct but not psychic impressions. While I am not the expert on all things, if I assume that there is no such thing as a psychic, then Ms Vale is our number one person of interest. I think we will pick Violet up and ask a few choice questions.”
201 was not far away and this time it was open. They walked inside to be met by a large dark man who was clearly into bodybuilding and shaving. The man did not have any hair on his body. He had no eyebrows, no nose hair and as he was stark naked Blackwell observed he had no pubic hair. He was the bouncer of the club and his extraordinary appearance indicated to the officers that the club inside was not your normal dance and get drunk venue.
They flashed their badges and the hairless bouncer opened the door for them. Inside was thumping with loud discordant music. The walls were all covered in faux stone. There were small torches on the wall which were burning with flames. The intended effect was to make the room look like a dungeon and it was quite effective. The crowd was thick but the people in the crowd were odd. Many off them were dressed in leather and had many piercing. The decoration of choice was chains and dog collars.
On stage was a young college student type and he was chained up and manacled while a tall red headed woman gently whipped him. His mates in their college get up were drinking beer and cheering him on. The chained student was laughing and clearly in no distress. The tall woman released him and then the lights went out and only the burning torches provided any illumination.
Suddenly there was a deep voice sounding over the speaker system it said, “Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to 201 or as we all know it, ‘The Hellfire Club.’ We remind you that everything you will see here tonight has been done by willing participants. Should you wish to be on stage let the manager Mistress Candy Cane know and she will arrange it for you.”
The stage lit up with red spotlights and the silhouette of a young blond girl could be seen. She was on her hands and knees. The tall red haired woman reappeared in a scarlet Victoriana dress with a small black top hat perched on a perky angle on top of her head. Around her neck there was a large diamante collar. In her hands was a riding crop which matched her shiny black boots. The young blond girl started to lick the red haired woman’s boots.
The tall red haired woman then spoke, “I am Mistress Candy Cane and you are all my people now. Tonight we will take you to the dark corners of your lust and we will show you a world others dream about. Before we do we need to take care of business. Any of you may volunteer to be on stage. We here at the ‘Hellfire Club’ remind you that the safety words are ‘Mother May I.’ Once you say that phrase you will be released and nothing further will happen you tonight. We also remind you that we at the ‘Hellfire Club’ are not legally liable for any damage done here as you have all signed a waiver. You will be told what will happen to you and you must sign before you appear.”
Taddio felt hot and bothered and his face was swollen, red and sweaty, “Well they tied that up nicely, none of this is illegal. I need to have a word with Ms Candy Cane.” The two officers went over to the hairless bouncer who directed them to a small office in the back. Again the interior of the office was a surprise. There was no sign that this was the office of an S and M club. It was all corporate efficiency in design. This office could just as easily be in an office in the financial district rather than that of a backstreet underground club.
Taddio visibly relaxed in this new environment as the tension that had gripped him in the ‘Dungeon Room’ released. Soon Mistress Cane entered. Here under full lights it was easy to see that Mistress Cane was not a Ms at all but rather a Mr. Mistress Cane was a better pseudo female than Ms Vale was but here, in the harsh lighting, her light stubble showed.
Blackwell began the questioning this time, “Do you know a Ms Violet Vale a.k.a Dustin Li?”
Ms Cane lit a cigarette and placed in a long cigarette holder, “Of course I know Violet and she works for me. She is quite the popular lass you know.”
Taddio grunted, “I am sure.”
Blackwell continued, “Here is a list of times that Ms Vale says she was here can you confirm that was here at these times?”
Ms Cane put on bifocal glasses and read through the list. “Yes she was here at those times and Albert my D.J. can confirm what I have just said. Even better I have tapes. Everything that happens here is recorded, for legal reasons of course.” Mistress Cane then left to get the tapes and Albert the D.J. stepped in. He did confirm that Violet Vale was on stage at the times of the killings.
Mistress Cane came back and put the D.V.D’s into her laptop and the officers watched as Ms Vale came on stage. Both of them gasped. Ms Vale performed under the misnomer of ‘Catwoman’ and was completely attired in a Michelle Pfeiffer inspired leather suit, whip and all.
Constable Blackwell turned to both Albert and Mistress Cane, “How do you know this is Violet, anybody could be in this get-up?”
The D.J. and the manager looked at each other then Mistress Candy said, “It is possible I suppose that this is some kind of doppelganger but really how many six foot four cross dressing Chinese men are there?”
Taddio solemnly replied, “There only needs to be one other for Ms Vale to be considered a person of interest.”
The officers left 201 as quickly as they could.Constance rang the station to get some uniformed cops to go pick Ms Vale up. By the time they reached the station Violet was in reception. Blackwell led the cross dresser to her desk. The Constable turned on the D.V.D. of Ms Vale’s performance on her laptop. Violet watched the black and white images as the tall Catwoman paraded around stage while whipping a man who was naked except his underwear and a Batman mask.
Blackwell leaned back on her chair and placed her hands on the back of head and smugly said, "Your alibi has a few holes in it. This could be someone else couldn’t it?”
Ms Vale looked flabbergasted, “It could be someone else but it isn’t. I am psychic. Look see that man over there, he has pink underwear on.” She pointed toward the Chief.
Taddio looked at the Chief and asked, "Are you saying that my Boss has pink underwear on? I don't think so."
Violet was undeterred, "I know it, your Chief is wearing pink underwear."
Taddio called out “Chief, what colour is your underwear?”
The Chief who had been refilling his coffee nearly spilt it all over himself in shock that Taddio would ask such a question, “I am not telling you. Taddio are you some kind of fat perv or what? You have been listening to too many fucking freaks lately!”
Armando grinned with genuine mirth, “I am afraid that I have no interest at all in you choice of underwear but it is relevant to this case, so please, what colour is your underwear?”
All of the station had now stilled as nothing was as urgent as this farcical scene that was playing out before their eyes. The Chief was then aware that he had an audience, “If you must know Taddio, my undies are white.”
Taddio then asked the Chief, “Are you sure they are not pink Chief?”
If the Chief was annoyed before he was now reaching an enraged state “Fuck, Taddio, you are as crazy as a blue assed fly. I am a REAL man, I would rather shit bricks than wear girly pink pants.”
The Detective then turned to Ms Vale, “It appears as though your psychic powers have abandoned you.”
Ms Vale grew increasingly desperate, “Make him show you, please.”
Taddio then turned to his superior officer, “Chief I am truly sorry but could you show us please. I am sorry but it is important.”
The Chief started muttering and undid his trousers. He turned around, aimed his backside at Taddio and yanked his trousers down. Blackwell wanted to turn away but it was too late, the Chief’s posterior was directed right in her direction. Beside the fact that the Chief’s backside had seen better days the other obvious fact was that his underwear was white, or at least they had been until someone had thrown in a red shirt with his underwear and now they were quite pink.
Ms Vale sat up and was clearly experiencing a sense of vindication, “I told you I am psychic. I was on stage on all the nights that the murders were committed but I have no further proof than the proof I have already told you. Look if you want to stop another killing you must go to ‘Cameron’s Cauldron.” I really have to leave I am due on stage in twenty minutes. Is there anything else or am I under arrest?”
TADDIO AND BLACKWELL JOURNEY TO CAMERON'S CAULDRON
Blackwell looked at Taddio, he nodded and Ms Vale made her way off to attend the ‘Hellfire Club’ and the officers left for ‘Cameron’s Cauldron’, they tried to ignore their boss’s filthy looks as they departed.
‘Cameron’s Cauldron’ was for the want of a better word, a magic shop. It was a store which provided herbs and crystals for Grover’s Wicker population. Blackwell noted that there were many representations of pentagrams and a fair amount of Egyptology depictions. The owner was a tall young man with piercing sapphire eyes. He introduced himself as Christopher Cameron, High Priest of the Mystic Fragment. Apparently he and some local women fancied themselves as witches and he thought of himself as a warlock. They amused themselves with ceremonies at which they appealed to natural forces to intercede with the mundane details of their lives. Cameron seemed like a magnetic young man with an effortless feline grace to his movements.
Taddio showed Cameron a photo of Ms Vale both in her female kit and dressed as Dustin Li. Cameron’s expression of disgust was evident as he examined the photo but he said that he had no knowledge of Ms Vale or Dustin. Further questioning revealed that Cameron did not have an alibi for the nights of the murdered girls. Taddio asked if he and Blackwell could look around and Cameron acquiesced to their request.
They poked around the shop without much direction. Taddio spotted a small brass sporting whistle. Blackwell then asked Cameron if they could look at his car. Cameron took them out the back to a vacant lot where his car was parked. The first thing in the lot that commanded the officer’s attention though was not the 1998 Toyota Camry but rather the ferocious dogs that where barking and snarling from a chain wire enclosure. One of the dogs was a black Rottweiler and the other was an Albino German Sheppard.
Taddio asked, “Are these beasts yours Cameron?”
The young man answered, “Yes, this part of town is a bit seedy and there are still those who think that paganism is some kind of satanic cult. When I leave the store at night I release the dogs to guard the store.”
Blackwell asked if she could check his car and she went straight to the car cigarette lighter. She lifted it out and checked the coil. It was not the spiral that it should have been. Instead it was the shape of a part rectangle topped with a wavy line to represent a hill. It was the hieroglyph for land and it was the final brand that was found on the last victim’s face.
Taddio had gone back inside and grabbed the small brass whistle. He came outside and tooted it three times and the dogs went berserk. Taddio shook his head and handcuffed Cameron who was loudly protesting his innocence.
Cameron was safely under lock and key and Taddio was preparing himself for the interrogation. He had the file under his arm and Blackwell was bringing Cameron, handcuffed into the interrogation room. Before she could get him into the room the station broke into a hullabaloo. There were people suddenly everywhere covered in leather and piercing.
It seemed as though the investigation having shined a light on ‘The Hellfire Club’ inspired the Chief to bust the place. Taddio muttered to Blackwell, “He is wasting his time, the place was legal. They covered themselves.”
The Chief who had heard him smirked, “Taddio, you dick, the club might be legal but it did not conform to code, those fire torches are a serious breach of the fire code. Mistress Candy Cane is about to find operating here in Grover is going to involve a great deal of red tape. Any luck and this club and the owners will leave town all together.”
Mistress Candy Cane was making quite the scene as the leader of the leather clad army. Candy was yelling out, “You think bars, handcuffs and threats scare us pigs, you don’t know shit!” However the patrons of the ‘Hellfire Club’ rather than being inspired to be defiant looked quite embarrassed and terrified. Candy was finding support short on the ground.
Cameron, having spied Mistress Candy Cane, spat at her. He turned to Blackwell, “If I was going to kill anyone it would be that freak. HE joined my circle and I took quite a shine to HIM. As soon as things became intimate I discovered his true nature a smacked the shit out of him.”
Candy’s eyes narrowed, “That was the least of what he did. He did this.” Candy ripped off the large Victorian skirt and removed the large underwear that lay beneath. Where the groin should have been there was a largely shapeless lump. “He kept kicking me and kicking me. Nearly fucking killed me and left me with this. I am not a man or a woman anymore just a mutant!”
Cameron screamed “No more than you fucking deserve!”
Violet, in full Catwoman attire joined into the ruckus, “She told me about you. Well she moved on to better things, I make her happy. You are the monster. You are a murderer and now you are busted.”
Taddio then dragged Cameron to the interrogation room while Blackwell led Violet over to her desk.
Blackwell made Violet a coffee, “Tell me everything Ms Vale, I think we both know you are not psychic.”
Violet took a sip then spoke, “I met Candy at the ‘Hellfire Club’ she and I were like soul mates. I would do anything for her. It was a terrible reality that Cameron had damaged her so much that she could never have a physical relationship with anyone. She was angry about that, obsessed really. She started spending hours stalking his shop. I tried to encourage her to let it go but she wouldn’t. She told me that it was Cameron who was committing those murders. She said that the police would have to catch him red handed. She said that there was no other way. She told me what to say to you and I said it. But it does not matter now if I am psychic does it, you caught him. No more girls will die.”
Blackwell replied sadly, “If you had told us everything sooner three people would now be alive, a young girl, an old man and my friend Tom. But then again, if I had taken your calls or looked you up with the first two cases then we might have solved this sooner and this two would have saved them. In our own way we have both assisted the murderer.”
Violet Vale was taken away by a uniform cop to be charged for hindering an investigation and withholding information. Meanwhile Blackwell began to question Mistress Candy Cane. She was stubbornly sticking to her story. Candy kept telling Constance that she had been spying on Cameron and that she discovered he was the murderer. She did not want to be implicated or lose the ‘Hellfire Club’ through police and media attention so the psychic Violet Vale was used as a ruse. Blackwell appeared thoughtful then said," Well, I think it is time that we go see the other murderers in this case, it may be that they can shed some light on this."
Cane looked confused, "What do you mean?"
Blackwell smiled and said, "I think it is time for this case to go to the dogs. You're coming with me."
Blackwell handcuffed Cane and together they went down the escalator. They then went outside to the compound where Cameron’s dogs were being held. Constance undid Cane’s handcuffs. Blackwell took out her gun and pointed it at Cane's head. She told the cross dresser to hold a hand out towards the chain wire fence. Both dogs, who were previously snarling and growling calmed and tried to lick Candy's hand. They were no longer rampaging beasts and were instead, almost cuddly.
Fred the handler who looked after the police dogs came over, “You must be these dog’s owner.” Candy shook her head in denial. Fred frowned and said, “These dogs are guard dogs. They would attack or threaten everyone but their owner and trainer. These dogs know you and think you own them whether you think so or not.”
Blackwell handcuffed Ms Candy Cane. “I think we know what happened now don’t we Ms Cane. You befriended Cameron’s dogs and trained them at night to attack on command. You used them as killing machines. You would come here at night and take them in your car, which I have checked is 1989 Cadillac. The car was of course equipped with a lighter. You then killed your victims in locations that formed pentagram layout and marked them with the hieroglyphs to set up Cameron. It was clever of you to use Egyptian hieroglyphs to hide the pentagram until you were ready to reveal it, it was most perplexing."
Constance's face portrayed her stone cold fury, Blackwell continued, "You then convinced Dustin Li to give us clues would ensure that when you were ready we would arrest Cameron. You thought that the tapes would clear Dustin so he would not be in danger. You decided to do another murder. You had to do it differently because you knew we were watching so you took the final victim and killed her elsewhere. I am guessing it was done at Cameron’s back lot. But it did not go as planned and you ended up being spotted dumping the body. You ran for it. When you thought you might be caught you shot that old man. When Tom had you cornered you blew his face off. It all might have worked but I am afraid that your co killers ‘dogged’ you out. The good news is that you are going to be popular in prison, VERY popular.”
Later that afternoon
As Blackwell was packing up her things to head home Taddio and the Chief came over to her desk. They handed her a package.Constance was not sure what they were up to but she opened the package. There sitting inside a red present box was a detective badge. She looked up with tears in her eyes, “Are you sure Chief, Taddio? Am I ready? I got Tom killed after all.”
The Chief put his arm aroundConstance’s shoulder, “It was not you that killed Tom. This job killed Tom. There is just as much chance that it will kill me, Taddio or you. You accepted that risk as do we all. Even Tom accepted it. In the end we are all still here. If you had died instead of the cadet he would still be here serving the good people of Grover. Your badge is because you show bravery and strength. Also you, unlike Taddio, do not piss me off every three seconds.”
Constance grinned, “I may be about to piss you off. I could not work out how Ms Vale knew the colour of your underwear. That was until I went back and had a second look at that tape and I think I know who might have been Batman to Ms Vale’s Catwoman.”
The Chief went bright red and seemed really awkward, “Constable Blackwell, maybe I should take that badge off of you. Trust me, you are barking up the wrong tree.”
Constance smirked, “Constable Blackwell no longer, that is Detective Blackwell to you Chief, or should I say Batman?”
Taddio looked at his old friend with astonishment as he realised what Blackwell was saying, “Gene, I am truly shocked! You like a bit of slap and tickle?”
Gene looked at both of them and went to storm out the room. Before he slammed the door he yelled out, “Fuck Off!”
Taddio held out Blackwell’s coat for her and said, “I take it that the Chief has just given us permission to leave, how about a drink or two at Maloney’s? We will have one drink for our newest Detective and another drink for the brave young Cadet who sacrificed his life for Grover.”
He put the coat on his protégé’s shoulders and looked out at his city bathed in the scarlet hues of sunset and whispered to himself, “This city is worth it, all of it.” He then turned and hugged Blacwell, "You, Constance are REALLY worth it, , I am so proud of you Detective Blackwell! Now get your coat because my wife has made you a veal dinner to die for."
The two embattled warriors, one old and fat and the other young and tired, made their way out in to the jungle of Grover city. They were the thin blue line which protected the innocent and come what may that line would hold. The people of Grover never knew the price of their safety and they never knew of the unsung heroes like Tom who played the blood debt.
This Case Concludes the Taddio Mysteries- I trust you enjoyed them, I know I enjoyed writing them!
HOME
Tiffany pushed her golden red locks from her rain drenched face. She knew it was stupid to run in the rain in the vague hope that she would not get wet but instinct kept her trying to bolt through rainy Grover days. She reached her front door with a relief. Her key slid into the lock and she was about to turn it when a horrific sound made her spin in alarm as her heart jumped through her chest.
It was the sound of dogs' feet running on the rain soaked pavement. The two massive hounds were coming toward her barking. One was as black as night and the other was as pale as ice. She screamed but her sound was drowned in the heavy rain. The dogs did not pause to growl or threaten they simply sprang in the air, teeth bared for the kill.
Tiffany was knocked off of her feet. Her head slammed on the damp concrete pavement and the massive jaws of the beasts loomed over her head. She began to scream in earnest. Her horrified wails were quickly silenced when the black dog ripped her throat out.
The Next Morning
Taddio turned up to work to be swamped by journalists who were swarming around the station like demented locusts. They were buzzing and moving in a random cloud of confusion. That was until a camera man spotted Detective Armando Taddio and started to move with purpose. The swarm then followed the camera man’s lead and pushed toward the fat detective while screaming out questions. They created a deafening cacophony.
The detective put his foot on the accelerator and sped off into to the urban maze of Grover city leaving the journos throwing their arms in despair. After a few turns he pulled his ‘67’ Volvo over and called his partner. Constable Constance Blackwell picked up the phone after just a few seconds. Taddio told Blackwell about what had happened at the station and she told him to meet her at Potty Kate’s, a nearby café.
Armando entered the café as quickly as he could so as to avoid being spotted by the press. Constance waved him over to a dark enclave in the rear of the café. “Hi Taddio, I am glad that the monsters did not corner you. They are camping out the front of the station because another girl has been found. This time it is not a homeless woman or a nameless receptionist. Tiffany Davies the news reporter from Channel 6 is our latest victim.”
Taddio shook his head he now understood the scene that welcomed him on his arrival to work this morning, “Is the modus operandi the same? The symbol brand and everything?” The detective was referring to the fact that a homeless woman by the name of Taddy was found mauled by dogs with a symbol branded on to her face. The coroner identified that the branding was done Post Morten and that it was the dogs that had killed the woman.
It did not take long for Taddio to find out that the symbol was the Egyptian hieroglyph for ‘spirit.’ Less than a week later another woman’s body had been found kilometres from Taddy. She too was murdered by dogs. Her name was Peggy and she was a receptionist at a local tiling company. She was middle aged, single and plump. She was ravaged by dogs as she was sneaking a cigarette during her break. On her face was a brand in the shape of the hieroglyph for water.
Constance took a long sip of her now lukewarm coffee and pulled a face of disgust, “Here is what I think, our perpetrator is working to a time table and they have an agenda. They do not kill out of enjoyment or they would first of all do it themselves and not let the dogs do it. My second point is that they would also do the branding prior to the victims death. They didn’t want to cause the victim any more pain than they had to. I don’t think that there is any connection between the victims themselves. I think our killer is working to his or her own agenda and the victims have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Taddio nodded, he was becoming prouder and prouder of young Blackwell with every case. Music interrupted his musing, it was a tinny version of “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” and it was Armando’s ring tone. He answered the phone. Blackwell watched as his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed, “Yes, Ms Davies, we will certainly follow it up.” He hung up and ran his hands through his thinning hair.
“You are not going to believe this Constance, but that was Tiffany Davies’ sister. She said she has been contacted by a psychic, a certain Ms Violet Vale. This psychic says she has information about the murders.” Taddio’s face clearly depicted the scepticism with which he viewed this type of information.
Blackwell was surprised, “I was rung by the other victim’s families about that psychic. I mean you know how these sorts of cases bring out the Grover crazies from the woodwork. I had three people confess to the crimes last week. I investigated all of those confessions but they were all fakes. I did not think anything of it this supposed psychic.”
Taddio shook his head with disappointment, “You should have told me. I need to know every detail about any active investigation. Even the loony details, never keep information from me again Constable.”
The young officer put her head down and the detective knew his point had hit home, his tone softened, “It is fine, I understand that you will make mistakes. I am training you after all. We need to follow up every detail just in case, no matter how unlikely, the person knows something. These types of thing happen all the time and I have listened to these so called mediums a hundred times. They are always full of tripe but it is damaging to the families if they hold any doubt as to our thoroughness. Their ability to find resolution and move on with their lives is our most important goal. We must never lose sight of this.”
Taddio Meets Ms Vale
Half an hour later they were outside a very normal looking modern townhouse. It was the domicile of Ms Violet Vale. When the owner of the house came to the front door both officers entered into a state of shock.Constance had expected a little old lady dressed like a gypsy. What was in front of her was a tall Chinese man with long curly black hair, false glittered eyelashes and fat ruby red lips. He was dressed in a Playboy pink velour tracksuit tucked into pink Ugg boots, “Well, hello my pretties. I assume you are here about my psychic impressions?”
Taddio recovered his composure quickly, after all it was not the first time he had dealt with drag queens. He knew that behind their cutting wit and thick make-up they were very vulnerable people. As a rule they were conflicted between their desire to be accepted like anyone else and to be thought of as exceptional and beautiful, “Good afternoon Ms Vale. Myself and Constable Blackwell were contacted by the victims’ families about your abilities. I trust that you do have information about the deaths because if you were to do this out of a perverted sense of fame it would be most distressing.”
Ms Vale let the two officers into the townhouse. The interior was completely decked out in faux Miami style deco. Pink neon and flamingo’s were in plentiful supply. The 1980’s discothèque style was jarring. As Constance sat down on the dove grey leather settee she let the whole thing sink in. Staring at the managerie made one feel dizzy.
Ms Vale begged to be excused and came back with two strawberry frappes served in frosted martini glasses. The officers took the drinks and gave their customary polite but fake sip. One of the first rules of being a cop was always accept food and drink while on duty as it comforts people but never fully consume it. The police never fully consumed the offerings just in case it was drugged, poisoned or more likely, spat in.
Violet took a large sip of his/her drink and then spoke “You probably think I am making this up but I am not. I am Chinese and fortune telling and psychic matters are much more accepted in my culture. I have always had a knack for knowing where lost things are and for reading people’s health conditions. I use it a great deal in my profession. I am a herbalist inChinatown. I don’t wear this type of get-up at the shop. The Chinese are not forgiving about gender confusion. Anyway I had a dream about your case. I could see myself walking in the rain. I was wet all over. There were two dogs coming for me. One was black and it was a Rottweiler. The other was white and it was an albino German Sheppard. I could not see the man but I heard his whistle. He was using a sporting whistle and it blew three times. The dogs stopped attacking but it was too late, I was dying. I then saw a fire surround my face. I then saw a pentagram floating above me. I don’t know what it meant but I knew it was not a normal dream. I had two similar dreams about the other two in the case of receptionist my face was under water and with the homeless woman I was covered in gin.”
Taddio listened gravely, “Your information is accurate about many aspects with regard to this crime. May I ask where you were when they occurred?”
Ms Vale laughed with a thick throaty laugh, “Typical at first you guys don’t believe me and now you do you think I did it. I was on stage when these murders happened. If you don’t believe me go to 201, it is a place down town, the owner Candy Cane will confirm I was there.” Taddio smiled and shook Ms Vale’s hand and he signalled to Constance to leave. He left his card with Violet with the usual request that a call be made should anything else come to mind.
The two officers went to 201 but the sign on the door said that it would not open until ten o’clock at night. Taddio decided too chance the station and see if the journos had tired of their stakeout so that he and Blackwell could return to the case file. When they arrived at the station they were in luck. Obviously something else had happened and the press had fled to that. The officers were able to enter without undue harassment.
Once back in their office Taddio and Blackwell looked at their board. Blackwell used string and pins to connect the three murders that had taken place so far to form a pentagram. Ms Vale’s clue about the pentagram played out and the location of the bodies did conform to the shape. Taddio placed the Egyptian symbols over each location according to the victim's brandings
Blackwell commented, "Odd that they are using a pentagram and Egyptian Hieroglyphs, are they not of two different cultures?” Blackwell inquired.
Taddio considered her words before replying, “Our killer is either sloppy about their research or rather, and I think this is the case, they are smart enough to ensure that we would not connect a pentagram with the figures they used.”
Constance stood back, her face displaying puzzlement as she examined their new findings, “The thing I don’t understand is how the brandings were done? I mean you need the tool to be hot in order to brand- don’t you? Would that not imply that the killer could not have done this on the run but rather would they not have a lair of sorts?”
Taddio considered Blackwell’s question before his face lit up, “Come with me.” The young Constable went to grab her coat but then Armando told her that she would not need it and he grabbed his sandwich. The two of them walked out to the front of the station where the vehicles for police were found. She wondered why Taddio was taking his lunch.
Taddio opened the door of his black ‘67’ Volvo and turned on the ignition. Instead of pulling out however he just sat there.Constance sat on the passenger side in utter bewilderment. Just then there was a small popping sound and Taddio pulled out the cigarette lighter. He placed it on the sandwich and there was a slight smell of burning. He lifted it up and there on the bread was a perfect swirl shape from the lighter’s element.
Taddio put the lighter back and held up the sandwich, “See Blackwell, these older cars came equipped with lighters and these certainly can brand. It would only be a small adjustment to alter the shape of the element. The size and composition of the bradings does suggest that a tool of this nature was used.”
Constance stared at the swirl branded bread, “So the killer has a car that is equipped with a built in lighter.”
Taddio shook his head, “Possibly but a similar concept could be done in a mobile form. All one would need is a car battery all that is needed is 12 volts. It would be heavy though. This might explain the dogs. The weight of the battery would prevent the killer from running or moving quickly if they had to carry such a contraption. This would be why the killer needs the victim killed prior to the branding. Such a cumbersome item would be unwieldy. Unfortunately it also means that any one could jig this contraption up and there is no way that we could track them down using this new information. However our killer must have something like this or a car with cigarette lighter in it and it will help us pin it on the suspect should we ever find one.”
Blackwell considered this, “Is it only old cars that have cigarette lighters?”
Taddio answered, “The cigarette lighter started to become used to heat kettles, watch televisions and power small electrical items. Over time the manufacturers designed a better port for this and the lighter disappeared. The lighters were dangerous to children who were burnt and they caused accidents. Cars that are roughly ten years old still have them. It is not much to go on but it does mean that there may or may not be a lair. If there is a lair then it is a mobile one. The coroner suggests that the victims died shortly before being located and there are no signs of movement. Still that does not mean it did not happen. We do know that the killer probably has access to 12 volts of power.”
Taddio lent back into the leather seat of his Volvo, “What we do know is where these murders are going to occur. The pentagram told us that the location for the next murder is going to be around the corner of Bacon Street and Elway Avenue. We are going to need some help though staking it out. Let’s go and see the Chief.”
As they exited the car Blackwell asked, “There are five points on that pentagram that leaves two possible locations. How do you know which one it will be in?”
Taddio grinned and held up a black and white printout. The paper depicted a pentagram all five points were labelled with the words, ‘Spirit,’’Water,’ ‘Fire,’ ‘Earth,’ and ‘Air,’ “So far the use of the symbols suggested that the killer is going clockwise around the pentagram. It is astonishing how many killers gravitate towards symbols and the pentagram is particularly common.”
Blackwell was still concerned, “You are probably right Taddio, still, I think we need two teams on this one. We should cover both locations.”
Taddio nodded, “Alright I will lead the Bacon Street team and you lead the Catherine Street team. I don’t like being split up but we have little choice. I lectured you on being thorough so we must be sure to cover every base.”
THE STAKEOUT
Soon they were in the Chief’s office. Gene was guzzling ‘tea’ which was more likely Bourbon as fast as he could. He was dealing with the tower of paperwork that was threatening to land on his head. Taddio ran through the case and put his request into the Chief who replied, “So what you’re telling me is that your best lead is in the form of a Chinese cross dressing quack who believes HE or SHE has a direct line into the psychic realm. Taddio, I always thought you were one of my best detectives but, fuck, if the best I have is an obese crazy asshole detective then Grover is in real trouble.”
Taddio took his Chief’s colourful language in his usual stride, “Chief, I may be over weight and crazy but I am usually right. I will deal with the source of information later and how credible it is. But right now, if it means saving a life, I will take what ever I can get. I would rather be at these locations and be wrong rather than be here at the station and be wrong.”
The Chief grunted and then went to leave his tomb of a desk to go co-ordinate his officers. As he got up he knocked over the mountain of manila folders on his desk and this led to another tirade. His profanity calmed some what when Constable Blackwell raised her eyebrows at him. Only Constancecould exercise any measure of control over their firebrand boss. Gene always tried to watch his ‘f-words’ when around her. Usually though he lost his temper and all modicum of self control.
Roughly half an hour later Taddio was with the Bacon Street team and Blackwell was with the Catherine Street team. Constance was excited. She had never been left before to co-ordinate an operation and she did not want to leave any stone unturned. She kept checking and rechecking that the officers were in their designated positions and that communication lines were clear.
Over at Bacon Street Taddio was less thrilled about the operation. These things could take hours or even days. There was no way to know the killer’s timetable. If the killer did not make an appearance soon then the Chief would force them to shut down the operation.
Taddio was right. Hours and then days passed without a murmur of action at the locations. Gene could not withstand the loss of his officers any more and pulled them back. Taddio and Blackwell had no choice but to try to maintain a watch on the locations themselves. Gene was nice enough to put two of the day shift on to cover them when they went off duty he even let them have two cadets to help them on their shifts.
Constance was missing Taddio, she was used to him being around and his presence was a comfort. She was stuck on Catherine Street day after day stuck in an empty apartment with Tom, her cadet. He was eager to please and his enthusiasm was contagious. Tom was a farm boy who came to the big bad city to test himself and serve the public.
The investigation had all but ground to a halt as Taddio and Blackwell were tied up with the stakeout. She knew her location well. She knew when the stores opened and who lived in the apartments over each store. In a way watching Catherine Street through her lens was becoming an obsession. The movements of the Catherine Steet residents had become the cheif source of discussion topics between Constance and Tom.
Blackwell was watching the young girl who Constance had mentally nicknamed ‘Betsy’ skip on her way home from school. Betsy was always coming home late because she stayed back at a ballet studio to practice her dancing. Betsy was dancing home as she danced with her red umbrella. The little girl’s plaits bounced as she bounded on the street. Suddenly a shape fell from above and splattered at the little girl’s feet. The shape that had fallen was in the shape of a human body. Constance looked up at the roof of the building that over shadowed young Betsy. Blackwell saw a shape in a long black hooded raincoat turn and flee.
Blackwell yelled at her rookie, Tom, to radio for back-up and she ran out of the apartment. She bolted down the stairs taking two at a time.
The young fit Blackwell shoved the glass door open and ran across the street at top speed. She only narrowly avoided being collected by a car. She then darted up an alley way that was next to the building where she saw the figure. Constance went up a ladder that led to a rusty fire escape. This left her at the top floor. She took off across the roof her mind and body focused on capturing the killer. When she reached the far side of the roof she looked down to see the figure running across the street. She spied a drainpipe and slid down it her hands were cut but her target was closer.
She made it to the bottom in time to see Tom coming around the corner. She ran as fast as she could in the direction of the figure. Blackwell was always a quick runner and she was making up ground. The figure turned to see her approaching, she could not make out a face as the heavy rain and the figure’s hood obscured her vision. The figure tried to gain more speed but Constance could see that they were tiring. She felt a thrill of victory. She had this crook, they were about to be nicked. Then the figure took out a gun just as an old man came around the corner. The figure opened fire on him.
The old man was flung backward by the force of the bullet and fell into the street. Blackwell could not do anything. She had to stop to help the old man. Tom ran passed her and continued the pursuit. Constance was checking on the state of the old man when she heard more shots ring out. The old man was dead. Blackwell jumped up and sprinted in the direction of the shots.
As she turned the corner she saw the body of Tom. His face had been blown to hell and the bloody pulp that had replaced Tom's open cheerful expression was unrecognisable as human.
Blackwell sat down next to Tom. The whole thing was a mess. She had not stopped the killer. An old man and her young cadet were dead. She noticed for the first time as she really looked at Tom that he was very young. His physique was still that of a boy, he would never grow to be a man.
Tom had been proud to have been called up out of the academy to do this duty. She remembered how every word and every expression he had ever expressed was full of deferential respect. Constable Blackwell had been a hero to the cadet. She was his leader and he was her fan but she had not protected him from dying on his first case.
Blackwell sat as the rain poured on her. Her tears were being eaten by the rain. Tom’s blood was pooling around her. She held his hand and kept saying sorry over and over again. Soon Taddio was there and he saw his young protégé rocking backward and forward chanting ‘Sorry’ to a corpse. The whole scene reminded him of when he had let his previous partner Smith down. He knew exactly the hell that Constance was in.
Armando also knew the cure. The Constable would have to be made busy again. She needed this case now. If she stopped for a moment then fear, guilt and anxiety would render her useless. He walked over and gathered her slight frame up in his large arms. He directed her to his car, “Blackwell, you have exactly ten minutes to cry this out and then you and I will go and catch this killer. Do you understand me?” Blackwell nodded and huddled against the car side window to bawl and weep. Taddio opened up his enormous arms and allowed her to drench his shoulder with tears of rage and guilt.
Shortly afterward Armando put his foot on the accelerator and they came to the location where the body had been dumped from the top of the building. They got out of the car and they saw that the young woman had been ravaged by dogs only this time her feet and hands were bound with tape and the branding scar was old.
Taddio shook his head, “Our killer changed his modus operandi instead of killing, branding and running, they picked up this poor girl and completed the killings else where. The killer then dumped the body here to complete their pattern. I think the branding still happened post morten though. Our killer still does not enjoy causing pain.”
TADDIO COMES FACE TO FACE WITH HELLFIRE
Suddenly the tune of “Are You Lonesome Tonight” sounded and the detective picked up his phone, “Hello Ms Vale…I see…’Cameron’s Cauldron’…we will look into it, bye.”
He turned to Constance whose eyes were still bloodshot, “Another tip from Ms Vale, apparently there was another dream and this time the person was killed in a location called ‘Cameron’s Cauldron’ before being dumped here. Violet also tells us that the symbol on the victim’s face is the symbol for ‘Earth.’ I already knew that but it is interesting that Ms Vale did too. Before we go to ‘Cameron’s Cauldron’ I am going to give the Chief a call and get him to put in a full round the clock team on Bacon Street then we are going to go to 201.”
The Constable replied, “That is right, we were going to go there to check out Ms Vale’s alibi when we became distracted with this stakeout. You don’t trust our medium then?”
Taddio shook his head, “No, I trust hunches and instinct but not psychic impressions. While I am not the expert on all things, if I assume that there is no such thing as a psychic, then Ms Vale is our number one person of interest. I think we will pick Violet up and ask a few choice questions.”
201 was not far away and this time it was open. They walked inside to be met by a large dark man who was clearly into bodybuilding and shaving. The man did not have any hair on his body. He had no eyebrows, no nose hair and as he was stark naked Blackwell observed he had no pubic hair. He was the bouncer of the club and his extraordinary appearance indicated to the officers that the club inside was not your normal dance and get drunk venue.
They flashed their badges and the hairless bouncer opened the door for them. Inside was thumping with loud discordant music. The walls were all covered in faux stone. There were small torches on the wall which were burning with flames. The intended effect was to make the room look like a dungeon and it was quite effective. The crowd was thick but the people in the crowd were odd. Many off them were dressed in leather and had many piercing. The decoration of choice was chains and dog collars.
On stage was a young college student type and he was chained up and manacled while a tall red headed woman gently whipped him. His mates in their college get up were drinking beer and cheering him on. The chained student was laughing and clearly in no distress. The tall woman released him and then the lights went out and only the burning torches provided any illumination.
Suddenly there was a deep voice sounding over the speaker system it said, “Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to 201 or as we all know it, ‘The Hellfire Club.’ We remind you that everything you will see here tonight has been done by willing participants. Should you wish to be on stage let the manager Mistress Candy Cane know and she will arrange it for you.”
The stage lit up with red spotlights and the silhouette of a young blond girl could be seen. She was on her hands and knees. The tall red haired woman reappeared in a scarlet Victoriana dress with a small black top hat perched on a perky angle on top of her head. Around her neck there was a large diamante collar. In her hands was a riding crop which matched her shiny black boots. The young blond girl started to lick the red haired woman’s boots.
The tall red haired woman then spoke, “I am Mistress Candy Cane and you are all my people now. Tonight we will take you to the dark corners of your lust and we will show you a world others dream about. Before we do we need to take care of business. Any of you may volunteer to be on stage. We here at the ‘Hellfire Club’ remind you that the safety words are ‘Mother May I.’ Once you say that phrase you will be released and nothing further will happen you tonight. We also remind you that we at the ‘Hellfire Club’ are not legally liable for any damage done here as you have all signed a waiver. You will be told what will happen to you and you must sign before you appear.”
Taddio felt hot and bothered and his face was swollen, red and sweaty, “Well they tied that up nicely, none of this is illegal. I need to have a word with Ms Candy Cane.” The two officers went over to the hairless bouncer who directed them to a small office in the back. Again the interior of the office was a surprise. There was no sign that this was the office of an S and M club. It was all corporate efficiency in design. This office could just as easily be in an office in the financial district rather than that of a backstreet underground club.
Taddio visibly relaxed in this new environment as the tension that had gripped him in the ‘Dungeon Room’ released. Soon Mistress Cane entered. Here under full lights it was easy to see that Mistress Cane was not a Ms at all but rather a Mr. Mistress Cane was a better pseudo female than Ms Vale was but here, in the harsh lighting, her light stubble showed.
Blackwell began the questioning this time, “Do you know a Ms Violet Vale a.k.a Dustin Li?”
Ms Cane lit a cigarette and placed in a long cigarette holder, “Of course I know Violet and she works for me. She is quite the popular lass you know.”
Taddio grunted, “I am sure.”
Blackwell continued, “Here is a list of times that Ms Vale says she was here can you confirm that was here at these times?”
Ms Cane put on bifocal glasses and read through the list. “Yes she was here at those times and Albert my D.J. can confirm what I have just said. Even better I have tapes. Everything that happens here is recorded, for legal reasons of course.” Mistress Cane then left to get the tapes and Albert the D.J. stepped in. He did confirm that Violet Vale was on stage at the times of the killings.
Mistress Cane came back and put the D.V.D’s into her laptop and the officers watched as Ms Vale came on stage. Both of them gasped. Ms Vale performed under the misnomer of ‘Catwoman’ and was completely attired in a Michelle Pfeiffer inspired leather suit, whip and all.
Constable Blackwell turned to both Albert and Mistress Cane, “How do you know this is Violet, anybody could be in this get-up?”
The D.J. and the manager looked at each other then Mistress Candy said, “It is possible I suppose that this is some kind of doppelganger but really how many six foot four cross dressing Chinese men are there?”
Taddio solemnly replied, “There only needs to be one other for Ms Vale to be considered a person of interest.”
The officers left 201 as quickly as they could.Constance rang the station to get some uniformed cops to go pick Ms Vale up. By the time they reached the station Violet was in reception. Blackwell led the cross dresser to her desk. The Constable turned on the D.V.D. of Ms Vale’s performance on her laptop. Violet watched the black and white images as the tall Catwoman paraded around stage while whipping a man who was naked except his underwear and a Batman mask.
Blackwell leaned back on her chair and placed her hands on the back of head and smugly said, "Your alibi has a few holes in it. This could be someone else couldn’t it?”
Ms Vale looked flabbergasted, “It could be someone else but it isn’t. I am psychic. Look see that man over there, he has pink underwear on.” She pointed toward the Chief.
Taddio looked at the Chief and asked, "Are you saying that my Boss has pink underwear on? I don't think so."
Violet was undeterred, "I know it, your Chief is wearing pink underwear."
Taddio called out “Chief, what colour is your underwear?”
The Chief who had been refilling his coffee nearly spilt it all over himself in shock that Taddio would ask such a question, “I am not telling you. Taddio are you some kind of fat perv or what? You have been listening to too many fucking freaks lately!”
Armando grinned with genuine mirth, “I am afraid that I have no interest at all in you choice of underwear but it is relevant to this case, so please, what colour is your underwear?”
All of the station had now stilled as nothing was as urgent as this farcical scene that was playing out before their eyes. The Chief was then aware that he had an audience, “If you must know Taddio, my undies are white.”
Taddio then asked the Chief, “Are you sure they are not pink Chief?”
If the Chief was annoyed before he was now reaching an enraged state “Fuck, Taddio, you are as crazy as a blue assed fly. I am a REAL man, I would rather shit bricks than wear girly pink pants.”
The Detective then turned to Ms Vale, “It appears as though your psychic powers have abandoned you.”
Ms Vale grew increasingly desperate, “Make him show you, please.”
Taddio then turned to his superior officer, “Chief I am truly sorry but could you show us please. I am sorry but it is important.”
The Chief started muttering and undid his trousers. He turned around, aimed his backside at Taddio and yanked his trousers down. Blackwell wanted to turn away but it was too late, the Chief’s posterior was directed right in her direction. Beside the fact that the Chief’s backside had seen better days the other obvious fact was that his underwear was white, or at least they had been until someone had thrown in a red shirt with his underwear and now they were quite pink.
Ms Vale sat up and was clearly experiencing a sense of vindication, “I told you I am psychic. I was on stage on all the nights that the murders were committed but I have no further proof than the proof I have already told you. Look if you want to stop another killing you must go to ‘Cameron’s Cauldron.” I really have to leave I am due on stage in twenty minutes. Is there anything else or am I under arrest?”
TADDIO AND BLACKWELL JOURNEY TO CAMERON'S CAULDRON
Blackwell looked at Taddio, he nodded and Ms Vale made her way off to attend the ‘Hellfire Club’ and the officers left for ‘Cameron’s Cauldron’, they tried to ignore their boss’s filthy looks as they departed.
‘Cameron’s Cauldron’ was for the want of a better word, a magic shop. It was a store which provided herbs and crystals for Grover’s Wicker population. Blackwell noted that there were many representations of pentagrams and a fair amount of Egyptology depictions. The owner was a tall young man with piercing sapphire eyes. He introduced himself as Christopher Cameron, High Priest of the Mystic Fragment. Apparently he and some local women fancied themselves as witches and he thought of himself as a warlock. They amused themselves with ceremonies at which they appealed to natural forces to intercede with the mundane details of their lives. Cameron seemed like a magnetic young man with an effortless feline grace to his movements.
Taddio showed Cameron a photo of Ms Vale both in her female kit and dressed as Dustin Li. Cameron’s expression of disgust was evident as he examined the photo but he said that he had no knowledge of Ms Vale or Dustin. Further questioning revealed that Cameron did not have an alibi for the nights of the murdered girls. Taddio asked if he and Blackwell could look around and Cameron acquiesced to their request.
They poked around the shop without much direction. Taddio spotted a small brass sporting whistle. Blackwell then asked Cameron if they could look at his car. Cameron took them out the back to a vacant lot where his car was parked. The first thing in the lot that commanded the officer’s attention though was not the 1998 Toyota Camry but rather the ferocious dogs that where barking and snarling from a chain wire enclosure. One of the dogs was a black Rottweiler and the other was an Albino German Sheppard.
Taddio asked, “Are these beasts yours Cameron?”
The young man answered, “Yes, this part of town is a bit seedy and there are still those who think that paganism is some kind of satanic cult. When I leave the store at night I release the dogs to guard the store.”
Blackwell asked if she could check his car and she went straight to the car cigarette lighter. She lifted it out and checked the coil. It was not the spiral that it should have been. Instead it was the shape of a part rectangle topped with a wavy line to represent a hill. It was the hieroglyph for land and it was the final brand that was found on the last victim’s face.
Taddio had gone back inside and grabbed the small brass whistle. He came outside and tooted it three times and the dogs went berserk. Taddio shook his head and handcuffed Cameron who was loudly protesting his innocence.
Cameron was safely under lock and key and Taddio was preparing himself for the interrogation. He had the file under his arm and Blackwell was bringing Cameron, handcuffed into the interrogation room. Before she could get him into the room the station broke into a hullabaloo. There were people suddenly everywhere covered in leather and piercing.
It seemed as though the investigation having shined a light on ‘The Hellfire Club’ inspired the Chief to bust the place. Taddio muttered to Blackwell, “He is wasting his time, the place was legal. They covered themselves.”
The Chief who had heard him smirked, “Taddio, you dick, the club might be legal but it did not conform to code, those fire torches are a serious breach of the fire code. Mistress Candy Cane is about to find operating here in Grover is going to involve a great deal of red tape. Any luck and this club and the owners will leave town all together.”
Mistress Candy Cane was making quite the scene as the leader of the leather clad army. Candy was yelling out, “You think bars, handcuffs and threats scare us pigs, you don’t know shit!” However the patrons of the ‘Hellfire Club’ rather than being inspired to be defiant looked quite embarrassed and terrified. Candy was finding support short on the ground.
Cameron, having spied Mistress Candy Cane, spat at her. He turned to Blackwell, “If I was going to kill anyone it would be that freak. HE joined my circle and I took quite a shine to HIM. As soon as things became intimate I discovered his true nature a smacked the shit out of him.”
Candy’s eyes narrowed, “That was the least of what he did. He did this.” Candy ripped off the large Victorian skirt and removed the large underwear that lay beneath. Where the groin should have been there was a largely shapeless lump. “He kept kicking me and kicking me. Nearly fucking killed me and left me with this. I am not a man or a woman anymore just a mutant!”
Cameron screamed “No more than you fucking deserve!”
Violet, in full Catwoman attire joined into the ruckus, “She told me about you. Well she moved on to better things, I make her happy. You are the monster. You are a murderer and now you are busted.”
Taddio then dragged Cameron to the interrogation room while Blackwell led Violet over to her desk.
Blackwell made Violet a coffee, “Tell me everything Ms Vale, I think we both know you are not psychic.”
Violet took a sip then spoke, “I met Candy at the ‘Hellfire Club’ she and I were like soul mates. I would do anything for her. It was a terrible reality that Cameron had damaged her so much that she could never have a physical relationship with anyone. She was angry about that, obsessed really. She started spending hours stalking his shop. I tried to encourage her to let it go but she wouldn’t. She told me that it was Cameron who was committing those murders. She said that the police would have to catch him red handed. She said that there was no other way. She told me what to say to you and I said it. But it does not matter now if I am psychic does it, you caught him. No more girls will die.”
Blackwell replied sadly, “If you had told us everything sooner three people would now be alive, a young girl, an old man and my friend Tom. But then again, if I had taken your calls or looked you up with the first two cases then we might have solved this sooner and this two would have saved them. In our own way we have both assisted the murderer.”
Violet Vale was taken away by a uniform cop to be charged for hindering an investigation and withholding information. Meanwhile Blackwell began to question Mistress Candy Cane. She was stubbornly sticking to her story. Candy kept telling Constance that she had been spying on Cameron and that she discovered he was the murderer. She did not want to be implicated or lose the ‘Hellfire Club’ through police and media attention so the psychic Violet Vale was used as a ruse. Blackwell appeared thoughtful then said," Well, I think it is time that we go see the other murderers in this case, it may be that they can shed some light on this."
Cane looked confused, "What do you mean?"
Blackwell smiled and said, "I think it is time for this case to go to the dogs. You're coming with me."
Blackwell handcuffed Cane and together they went down the escalator. They then went outside to the compound where Cameron’s dogs were being held. Constance undid Cane’s handcuffs. Blackwell took out her gun and pointed it at Cane's head. She told the cross dresser to hold a hand out towards the chain wire fence. Both dogs, who were previously snarling and growling calmed and tried to lick Candy's hand. They were no longer rampaging beasts and were instead, almost cuddly.
Fred the handler who looked after the police dogs came over, “You must be these dog’s owner.” Candy shook her head in denial. Fred frowned and said, “These dogs are guard dogs. They would attack or threaten everyone but their owner and trainer. These dogs know you and think you own them whether you think so or not.”
Blackwell handcuffed Ms Candy Cane. “I think we know what happened now don’t we Ms Cane. You befriended Cameron’s dogs and trained them at night to attack on command. You used them as killing machines. You would come here at night and take them in your car, which I have checked is 1989 Cadillac. The car was of course equipped with a lighter. You then killed your victims in locations that formed pentagram layout and marked them with the hieroglyphs to set up Cameron. It was clever of you to use Egyptian hieroglyphs to hide the pentagram until you were ready to reveal it, it was most perplexing."
Constance's face portrayed her stone cold fury, Blackwell continued, "You then convinced Dustin Li to give us clues would ensure that when you were ready we would arrest Cameron. You thought that the tapes would clear Dustin so he would not be in danger. You decided to do another murder. You had to do it differently because you knew we were watching so you took the final victim and killed her elsewhere. I am guessing it was done at Cameron’s back lot. But it did not go as planned and you ended up being spotted dumping the body. You ran for it. When you thought you might be caught you shot that old man. When Tom had you cornered you blew his face off. It all might have worked but I am afraid that your co killers ‘dogged’ you out. The good news is that you are going to be popular in prison, VERY popular.”
Later that afternoon
As Blackwell was packing up her things to head home Taddio and the Chief came over to her desk. They handed her a package.Constance was not sure what they were up to but she opened the package. There sitting inside a red present box was a detective badge. She looked up with tears in her eyes, “Are you sure Chief, Taddio? Am I ready? I got Tom killed after all.”
The Chief put his arm aroundConstance’s shoulder, “It was not you that killed Tom. This job killed Tom. There is just as much chance that it will kill me, Taddio or you. You accepted that risk as do we all. Even Tom accepted it. In the end we are all still here. If you had died instead of the cadet he would still be here serving the good people of Grover. Your badge is because you show bravery and strength. Also you, unlike Taddio, do not piss me off every three seconds.”
Constance grinned, “I may be about to piss you off. I could not work out how Ms Vale knew the colour of your underwear. That was until I went back and had a second look at that tape and I think I know who might have been Batman to Ms Vale’s Catwoman.”
The Chief went bright red and seemed really awkward, “Constable Blackwell, maybe I should take that badge off of you. Trust me, you are barking up the wrong tree.”
Constance smirked, “Constable Blackwell no longer, that is Detective Blackwell to you Chief, or should I say Batman?”
Taddio looked at his old friend with astonishment as he realised what Blackwell was saying, “Gene, I am truly shocked! You like a bit of slap and tickle?”
Gene looked at both of them and went to storm out the room. Before he slammed the door he yelled out, “Fuck Off!”
Taddio held out Blackwell’s coat for her and said, “I take it that the Chief has just given us permission to leave, how about a drink or two at Maloney’s? We will have one drink for our newest Detective and another drink for the brave young Cadet who sacrificed his life for Grover.”
He put the coat on his protégé’s shoulders and looked out at his city bathed in the scarlet hues of sunset and whispered to himself, “This city is worth it, all of it.” He then turned and hugged Blacwell, "You, Constance are REALLY worth it, , I am so proud of you Detective Blackwell! Now get your coat because my wife has made you a veal dinner to die for."
The two embattled warriors, one old and fat and the other young and tired, made their way out in to the jungle of Grover city. They were the thin blue line which protected the innocent and come what may that line would hold. The people of Grover never knew the price of their safety and they never knew of the unsung heroes like Tom who played the blood debt.
This Case Concludes the Taddio Mysteries- I trust you enjoyed them, I know I enjoyed writing them!
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