Perfect Blood
1. To Cure the Killer
I wouldn’t say that I truly enjoy my job.
People tell me that I’m good at my job, a genius even, but I don't really need
them. Any other detective is perfectly capable of the same degree of success,
the problem is that they never think with the right parts of their brains.
Catching a killer requires some thinking outside the realm of sanity.
I guess that you could say that I “solve”
cases. Solve is a funny word and it is quite similar to the high class medical
term “cure.” Doctors hate it because it can be incredibly specific which
leaves out all other factors, potential career suicide for medical
practitioners. Suppose that a patient is admitted with complaints of frequent
headaches. The doctor examines the patient, realizes it’s serious and
schedules surgery. A week later the patient is on his feet feeling better than
ever. A layman would call this cured, but what if said patient was also a
chronic anorexic and told the doctor nothing of this. Is the patient still
cured or is he or she still on the freeway to recovery, stalled in the
breakdown lane?
Ask a cop what it means to solve a case
and you’ll get the same answer every time; “Catch the perp.” It makes sense
that catching the perp is the primary goal. After that, it’s the business of
the court system to convict the perp, sometimes with one of us making an
appearance but not much more. We have paid people for that anyway. We only
function on a few thin levels on the crime hierarchy. Usually at street level
but we can only work where we have legal jurisdiction. Anything else is folly.
My point being that --
The phone rang, cutting me off mid sentence. My train of thought careened
of the tracks and smashed itself to pieces in a horrible wreck. Obviously
sabotage. I strongly considered unplugging the phone and going back to work on
my memoir as I was before I was so rudely interrupted.
I reached down behind my desk and fumbled with the cord. It came out of
the wall socket with a plastic sounding snap and cut the phone mid ring. How
do you like that? I though to myself, swiveling in my chair back to face the
screen. I started to type, trying to regain my lost momentum.
My point being that although I may be considered one of the top detectives
of my generation, my abilities are severely limited by our justice system.
Another phone rang. Goddamn it. Can’t I have a life of my own? The phone
continued to ring. Guess not. I should have left my cell phone off. I guess
this is the price for that. I hate cell phones anyway.
I flipped the phone open in the same way you might slam a door, with
disgust. I searched for the talk button. Partly because I don’t use my phone
much and partly for the fact that if I wasted enough time, the caller would
give up and go bother someone who cares. Wasting time isn’t my strong suit
though and I can only justify wasting about 1.5 seconds with the talk button
routine.
“Hello?” I said attempting to hide my annoyance and failing miserably.
“Wayne, its Lieutenant...”
“Oh, it’s just you.” I cut him off just like his first call. Score two for
me, punk. “Are you aware of the time and day it is?”
“Well it’s Sunday and about 11:30...”
“Exactly!” I sliced his sentence in half “It’s SUNDAY. A day on which I
don’t usually work like many others of my kind.”
“The fuck? You Catholic?”
“No, I was referring to average tax paying Americans, you idiot.”
“Well nevermind that, Wayne. We got a guy dead under mysterious
circumstances so get down to the park on Harvard.” The Lieutenant seemed to
think that I was interested in any case involving “mysterious circumstances”.
Unfortunately, he was right, but I wasn’t about to let him know.
“Must I?”
“You got your mom visiting or something?”
“No but...”
“Then get your ass down here pronto.” He terminated the call with a rude
click. At least, it sounded rude.
Great way to spend a Sunday; on a case, but there was the overtime pay for
work done off my scheduled days. I threw on my coat and stepped out of my
house, plucking the keys of my desk.
It was a nice day. Sunny, but not too hot. The kind of day that makes you
think, “How could someone die on a day like this?” Well, delusions aside, I
knew of at least one death today.
It was only a short drive to the park. I rarely walked there, opting to
spend most of my time indoors winding up with what is commonly known as an
“internet tan”. The park can be easily seen from a couple blocks away because
of the large oak trees and hedges which border it. That day, the green of the
trees outlined the red and blue lights from many police cars.
I parked across the street and crossed to the park. I was immediately
confronted by two officers who stood in front of the bright yellow tape which
was stretched across the entrance to the park between the fence posts. One
stood back a few steps with his hand on his holster. Just in case I was the
killer trying to come back and admire my handiwork. I just flipped out my
badge and asked where the Lieutenant was.
“On the hill by the fountain. Can’t miss it,” the first cop said while the
second lifted the police tape up with his hand. The inside of the park was
well shaded around the edges. I had to take a few steps before I felt the sun
on my back. The park was oddly quiet for a sunny afternoon. Crowd control had
done well in making everyone without a badge scarce. It doesn’t seem to matter
how brutal the scene is, there will always be people trying to get a good
look. We just seem to be drawn to suffering.
I walked up to the hill, causing the figures on it to raise their heads in
my direction. One head possessed a tangle of shiny black hair. “Ah,
Lieutenant! There you are.”
The Lieutenant motioned me over, wordlessly. “OK,” I said “what
exactly...” I stopped short and just stared. There was a body on the hill,
which I was expecting. The body’s neck seemed to be coated in a bright red
ring. The rest of the body was white as snow. I suppressed a smile as I
remembered the full title of the fairy tale. Snow White, Blood Red.
I stepped closer and caught a whiff of something strong and rotten. Blood.
I bent down, holding my breath and examined the neck. Definitely blood, and
quite fresh from the color of it. I looked up at the Lieutenant and the
others, two officers and someone else wearing a white lab coat, like he had
just been yanked out of the ER. The two officers seemed to be trying to avoid
looking at the body as much a possible. The white clad man, however, was on
his knees with his face practically buried in the corpse as he turned over
bits of clothes or lifted the limbs to look underneath.
I took a step closer and bent over the body so that I was in the same
position as the lab rat, as I liked to call them. I pulled out my detectives
kit which consisted of a flashlight and a pen. I was leaned in closer, trying
to observe an odd stain which spread from the back of the body near the base
of it’s shirt. I lifted up the hem of the shirt and noticed a bruise with red
dot in the center. Before I could look closer the Lieutenant called us over to
him. I looked up to see him motioning the four of us away. The officers
relaxed noticeably as they stepped away.
“Hey,” I said “Who’s that guy?” I motioned to the guy in the lab coat.
“Lab technician. Pulled him outta his morning shift. Needed an expert.”
the Lieutenant said. The lab guy came over. “Tell Wayne here what you got.”
The lab guy adjusted his glasses. “Multiple bite marks on the neck and
they were definitely done by human teeth. Cause of death is unknown. I’d guess
blood loss but he would have had to be unconscious. Trying to drain a body
from a bite size would is like draining a pool with a straw. I’ll need to do
some lab work before I can be sure of anything, though.”
A cell phone rang. The Lieutenant shoved his hand into his pocket and
pulled out a phone. He snapped it open without even saying hello. A few
seconds later, he hung up and put the phone away. “All right, good news. We
caught the killer.”
“What? Just like that? How can you be sure?” I was a bit disappointed.
Must be a clumsy amateur, I thought.
“Well they found a woman hiding in an alleyway with what appeared to be
blood in her teeth and on her clothes.”
“What the hell is this? Hannibal?”
“Just shut it for two seconds, Wayne. We’re going to pay Miss Murder a
visit.”
I didn’t try to argue my way out of it for two reasons. First, I actually
had a genuine interest in the case, which was surprising, even to me. Second,
I was running out of things to put in my memoir. It lacked real life examples
and this one had an interesting air about it. Me, the Lieutenant and the lab
technician piled into the cruiser and were off with lights blazing.
It’s a ten minute drive to the precinct, three with the siren on. It
wasn’t the first time I rode in a police cruiser but it was only the second
time that I rode one willfully. The other two times are smears on my history
that I prefer not to talk about, thank you very much.
The LT parked the car in his personal space and we strode up to the door.
When I stepped in I was surprised to find myself saluted by two officers. I
was about to return the gesture when I realized that they were addressing the
Lieutenant. “How’s it going, man?” I said to the first officer as the
Lieutenant stormed past us, intent on seeing the vampire lady first.
“Don’t talk to me, Wayne. Just take these and shut up.” he said as he
turned back to his desk to produce two files in manila folders: The profiles
of the killer and victim.
“Sheeeeesh.” I followed the Lieutenant to the interrogation rooms with the
lab tech in tow. All three of us stopped and starred through a window at a
solitary figure sitting in a chair illuminated only by a single overhead
light. I flipped open the first file, the one of the suspected killer, and
perused its contents.
“All right, Wayne. Get in there.” the Lieutenant said as he turned to me.
“What? You mean me?” I said, looking up from the folders contents. I had
gotten all the way to blood type which is about the third line. I switched to
the second file and read the personal information. I noticed an interesting
similarity and thought hard about it for a few seconds to make sure I did not
forget.
As if on cue, the lab guy, whose name seemed to be Coal, spoke up. “I just
observe from behind the glass, sir. Up close and personal isn’t really my
style.” The Lieutenant ignored him. All of this, he already knew.
I flipped back and forth between the two files several times. The
Lieutenant started to get impatient. I wasn’t quite sure why. He seem quite
intent on seeing the killer first. Maybe he was squeamish or something.
“Fine,” I said, and stepped toward the door. He opened it for me and I
found myself face to face with a killer’s glare. I sat down in the cold metal
chair and looked her over. She wasn’t very cheerful looking as you may have
guessed. The way she stared at me didn’t give the impression that she was
undressing me with her eyes. More like she was wondering how my neck tasted.
That fact that she was cuffed to the table didn’t give me much comfort.
“Let me guess. You’re a vampire and you need fresh blood every now and
then or you shrivel up and this guy was just right in front of you and looking
ever-so tasty, right?”
She didn’t answer. Either she though I was crazy or I was dead on. She
took her free arm and put in below her shoulder, rubbing the area as if it was
sore. “Something wrong with your arm?” I asked. She didn’t say anything but
she looked at the table, avoiding my eyes. “Let me take a look.” I stood up
and reached across the table.
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed and pulled back but the cuffs kept her from
moving more than a foot. She clenched her arm and I saw a red dot on the
sleeve. She must have had sharp nails. I looked her in her face. I looked at
those rosy cheeks. Not the color you would expect to see on a heartless
killer. She seemed to have a glow about her skin. Like she had just had a
transfusion. I remembered something I had read in the files which were handed
to me. How badly did she really need that blood? “You needed the blood didn’t
you? But you weren’t thirsty, right?” Her face changed slightly, her cheeks
unclenched slightly and her eyes widened in the slightest.
I walked over the the one-way glass and tapped on it. The door swung open
and I stepped out, closing it behind me.
“Could I use a computer for a moment?” I asked the Lieutenant. All I got
was a glare from the Lieutenant but after seeing that I was serious, he
pointed to an empty desk nearby with a monitor on it.
“It’ll only take a sec.” I said as I walked away. I fired up the web
browser and put in a search. I was answered by several medical web sites.
Perfect. A minute later I was back at the window with the other two.
“Lieutenant, did your men search the alleyway where they found this girl?”
“Not sure. If they did, I wasn’t informed. Why?”
“Cause I’m sure that there is something there that will convict this
chick.”
“You think she took a souvenir?”
“No, she’s diffidently not crazy. Just under medical duress. Look at her.
She looks like she just had a blood transfusion. Rosy cheeks and red lips.
It’s not makeup either.”
“So what are you getting at?”
“Order the search and then I’ll tell you.” The Lieutenant whipped out his
radio to order a CS unit to the alley. He put the radio back on his belt.
“OK. So, now what?” he asked.
I handed him both front pages from the files. “Look at the blood type. TcA-.
That's a very rare blood type. I checked online and there are no donors for
that blood type anywhere in the world. She’s not a vampire, she just needed a
transfusion. Badly, I might add. The vampire bit was probably just to throw
the police. So that we would look into cult leads.”
“What do you expect to find it that alley?”
“Blood of course. And I think that you may find something interesting when
you examine the body more closely, Mr. Coal.” I turned to address the lab
tech. “You didn’t notice it, but there were puncture wounds on the victim.” I
turned back to the Lieutenant. “Can I go home now?”
The Lieutenant looked at me, stunned. He thought for a second, piecing the
bits together for himself. His eyes flashed to the file and then to the woman
in the next room. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He bent
towards her and spoke into her ear. She straightened up and I could see her
shudder. Then, she threw her face into her hands. The Lieutenant walked out of
the room and I heard sobbing behind him.
“Yes, you may go.”
2. Blood Will Tell
Not all criminals are evil. There are
some who are driven to do horrible things. Not too long ago, on a sunny
afternoon, I met someone who could have been Dracula’s sister, but all she
wanted was what no one could give her and ended up killing the only one who
could for it. It started with me just trying to write my memoir and it ended
in the same way.