The detective – finale

            I walked into the damp, dark warehouse and stood for a moment trying to adjust my eyes to the sudden darkness.

            “Detective,” I didn’t get the chance as a man grabbed me from behind and put a knife to my throat, “I had so hoped you would join me.”

            “You bastard.”

            “That’s right I am…no father to speak of so I suppose that also makes my mother a slut.  Oh wait, you were trying to be offensive,” he laughed, “my mistake.  Won’t you join Nichole and sit with me?”  He grabbed my gun out of my hand and threw it away.  Then he dragged me over to a chair he had set up next to a very pretty and very terrified blonde girl, “Meet Nichole, say hi Nichole.”

            She struggled and tried to scream through the gag around her mouth.

            “Let her go.”

            “Maybe later,” he pushed me into the chair tied my hands behind me.

            “No gag, what if I scream?”

            “I don’t care, besides if I gag you we can’t talk and I’ve so been looking forward to this conversation,” he swung another chair out to face me and smiled.

I jerked back in my chair and he laughed again.

            “Not what you were expecting eh?”

            “Hell I’m just glad I can finally put a face to the monster.  Definitely not what I was expecting.  People like you should look as ugly as you are inside.”

            “Sorry to disappoint detective.”

I studied his face – he had sort of a rugged handsomeness, one of those natural five o’clock shadows and what must’ve been magnetic eyes for the opposite sex.  The only thing that marred his undeniable charisma was a nasty scar that ran from the left side of his left eyebrow to right under his right earlobe.

            “Like my scar?  My mother gifted me with it right before she crashed the car into a tree.”

            “That must’ve been real special.  Why are you killing these women?”

            “Fun,” he walked over and caressed Nichole’s hair.  She began crying, “I’m psychotic, detective I don’t have a reason or rhyme.  Maybe they remind me of my mother, maybe it’s because there’s something repulsive to me about young women, maybe I hate women in general since they are the purveyors of sin or maybe I simply hate long-haired women.  Pick one.”

            “So you’re just a regular psycho huh?  Don’t play me.  I’m not here so you can build an insanity plea when we finally put you behind bars.”

            “Shut up!” he yelled and slashed my chest with his knife, “I’m never going back there!”

            “You’ve been to jail before?”

            “Oh like you didn’t know!  When I was small, they rehabilitated me!”

            “You were in juvie?”

            “Oh, wait…” he seemed to calm down and turned back around towards me, “That’s right juvie records are sealed.  I almost forgot.  Oh well, no matter.  You’re still my prisoner, that’s all that matters.”

            “Why?  What’s so important about having me?”

            “You’re special detective.  You figured me out, isn’t that right Nichole?”  He walked over and stroked her face, she squirmed.

            “Let her go.”

            “You said that already.  I can’t.”

            “Why?”

            “She has to die…”

            “Why?”

            “I saw her future; I read it in the stars and today’s the day she has to die.  I have to help.”

            “Listen to me; you’re not going to use me to build an insanity plea.  I don’t believe you.”

            “I’m only telling you why she has to die.”

            “Because the stars said so?”

            “It’s her future.”

            “The future isn’t set in stone.”

            “Liar.”

            “What’s your name anyway?”

            “Not happening detective.  We aren’t going to bond.”

            “I just want to know your name so I can stop calling you monster.”

            “Shut up!”  He punched my knee hard enough that I felt the bones break.  I screamed in pain, “Shut up!”  He grabbed my head in his hands and held me to his chest like I was a little kid, “Just shut up,” he let me go and turned to Nichole savagely punching her face hard enough to break her jaw.  Her scream was muffled by the gag.

            “Ok,” I gasped, “Ok I’m sorry I won’t ask again…just don’t hurt her.”

            “You don’t listen very well do you detective?  Maybe that’s why your wife left.”

            “Stop.”

            “And your last three partners?”

            “Stop!”

            “Or maybe it was your temper…” he smiled at me and sat back down in front of me all giddy like a little kid who’s just started summer vacation, “you’ve had problems within the police department haven’t you?  Been suspended once and reprimanded several times huh?”

            “Is that why I’m ‘special’, you think I’m like you?”

            “You aren’t that special,” he scoffed, “You’ll never rid yourself of that morality.  I already told you, you figured me out, you know why I do this that’s why I like you.”

            “Great we can bestest friends and share secrets and all that bullshit.”

            “No swearing!”  He backhanded me, “Good Catholics don’t swear.”

            “You haven’t gotten the update on my bio have you?  I’m not Catholic anymore.”

            “You can never stop being something like that.”

            “Is that why you are still sick?”

            “Exactly…see I told you,” he chuckled and scooted a little closer to me, “You understand.”

            “I understand you’re a murderer.  Plain and simple.”

            “No, no, how could you not see it?  I’m more than a simple killer, I’m special like you,” His eyes got all dreamy, “I’m more than psychotic, I’m more than just your average serial killer; I’m special.”

            “No, simple killer, that’s it.”

            “Liar!”  He slashed my face across my left cheek and the blood trickled down onto my shirt collar.  I heard police sirens in the distance.

            “Did you tell them?  Of course you left some sort of note, right?  Why?  Why did you do that?  They’re going to ruin all of our fun.”

            “Not ‘our’, your, your fun.”

            “I suppose you’re right,” he smiled, “Well maybe Nichole’s having fun.  Are you having fun Nichole?”  He stepped behind her and ran his hands over her breasts.  She tried screaming again, “I think Nichole’s having fun.”

            “Why don’t you take the gag off and ask her.”

            “No such luck.”

The police sirens got closer and I silently cursed whatever idiot forgot to have them go quiet.  They were going to get us killed.  I needed to find a way to get me and Nichole out alive.

            “Maybe you’re right.  Maybe you are special.”

            “Yeah?  You’re not just saying that are you?  No, you wouldn’t lie.  I am special.”

            “Yeah.  Yeah you are.  Out of all the killers I’ve investigated you are by far the best.”

            “I knew it,” he smiled, “I’m crazy too right?”

            “Yeah, yeah psychotic even.”

            “Now detective you aren’t trying to be sarcastic are you?”

            “No.  I’m serious; they’ve told us about guys like you, they’ve showed us the profiles.  Of course you are different but you’re still crazy.”

            “Psychotic.”

            “Right, sorry, psychotic.”

            “So that means you don’t think I have a rhyme or reason for killing, right?”

            “Right…” I answered warily, I had a bad feeling that he was taking this someplace I didn’t want to go.

He turned and looked at me as though he’d read my mind, “You’re lying aren’t you detective?”

            “Why would I do that?”

            “To keep her alive,” he backhanded Nichole again.

            “STOP!!”

            “No yelling!” he swiped the knife across my face and then proceeded to pummel me in the chest.  I tried fighting back, I even managed to head butt him.  And as soon as I did that I realized how big of a mistake I’d just made.

            “Well know detective,” he said as he put a hand to his forehead where I’d managed to break skin, “Looks like you’ll get to join Nichole in the afterlife.  Don’t worry you’ll both burn in hell.”

            “Thought you said good Catholics don’t swear,” I managed to get out between my tightly clenched teeth.

            “When used in that context it isn’t swearing.”

At that precise moment we heard a door bang shut from the far side of the warehouse.

            “Shit.”

            “Expecting company detective?  They won’t be able to help you.”

            “Why, did you booby-trap the place?”

            “No, but you’ll be dead before they can get here,” he said and started forward brandishing his knife, Nichole screamed through the gag and I leaned back, toppling the chair.  He kept coming forward, “thanks for making it easier,” he said as he sat on my chest, breaking both arms in the process.  I tried yelling but he clamped his free hand on my mouth and brought the knife down to my neck, “Just so you know detective,” he leaned in close, “I’m not crazy, I just like to see the little light in their eyes go out and women have the most beautiful light ever.”

He sat back up at that moment and the report of the gunshot was so loud I thought I’d gone deaf.  He toppled over.  The very next thing I saw was Dan’s face looking down on me.

            “Remind me to kill you when you get better,” he said as he pulled my chair into an upright position.

            “I’ll be sure to do that, untie her first.”

Dan looked at me, “Okay,” he walked over and gently undid the gag from Nichole’s mouth, “you okay sweetheart?”

            “Her name’s Nichole.”

            “Nichole, they’re bringing a stretcher in to take you out, okay?” Dan said in a soothing voice.

            “Okay,” Nichole said through her broken jaw and pain, “Thank you,” this was directed at me.

            “You are very welcome Nichole.”

            “Is he dead?” she asked and all three of us looked over at where the monster was laying, breathing erratically.

            “Unfortunately no,” Dan answered, “but with the charges he’s facing he’ll be dead before he ever sees the light of day again…you hear that you motherfucker!” Dan yelled at him, “You’ll never be a free man again!”  He just groaned.

            A few minutes later they came in and wheeled Nichole and the monster out.  Dan finished untying me and asked, “You want a stretcher too?”

            “Not particularly.”

            “Alright then, give me your arm,” he gently lifted my arm over his head and helped me steady myself on the one foot, “That was very brave what you did.”

            “I thought for sure he’d search me and find the wire.”

            “Yeah well, I’m sure glad he didn’t.”

            “Me too.  By the way, next time I’m feeling this brave do me a favor and chain me to my desk.”

            “Not a chance buddy,” Dan smiled.

            “Yeah, I thought you’d say that,” I smiled back as we walked slowly out of the warehouse into the paparazzi lights.