\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1898174-Psycona---Chapter-1
Item Icon
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Mystery · #1898174
Detective Jack Riley mules over the Coat Hanger Serial Killer case, it sparks memories.
Chapter 1



Detective Jack Riley had been investigating this case for months now without a single fresh lead.

He sighed inwardly to himself as he mumbled "Ahh nothing but dead ends."

He unscrewed the lid of the nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniel's that he had hidden away in his desk’s bottom drawer. Jack poured what was left into his stained whiskey glass.

The clock on the far wall of his office at Kent City Central Police Station struck midnight. Jack noticed he had been hovering over and flickering through the almost too thin beige manila case folder for more than six hours now. It was times like these that really brought back memories of a happier time, memories of Evelyn. These memories only made the pain worse. Jack stared into the whiskey stained glass and viewed the warped amber world glimmering through the vortex of liquor from within. He stared and remembered for some time before tipping the edge of the whiskey glass toward his dry and weathered lips. He paused momentarily before opening his mouth. Jack felt the cooling burn of the Tennessee whiskey fumes numb his throat and senses, almost as if to counter-act the searing burn from within his heart. He poured the contents of the glass into his mouth and embraced its warmth before allowing it slide over his tongue and down his throat. Drowsiness finally came to claim his cloudy mind. Jack finally conceded, as he did every night, that this night would not be the night that he would break open the Coat Hanger Serial Killer case. It bugged him. He had once been so close to capturing the crazed killer, nearly three years ago. It had been a trap, Jack had come to realise, to lure him in and punish him for his pursuit. Jack paused for a moment to remember the night that it had happened.

It had been a warm day, though when Jack had received the call from Lieutenant Burmer the night had started to creep in and claim its cool grip upon the earth. He was preparing a fine dinner for himself and his fiancé, Evelyn.

“You going to answer that babe?” Evelyn asked over her shoulder as she placed an expensive looking silver knife beside one of the two place-mats. Jack sighed.

“Yeah, I guess I should” he said, irritated “though it had better not be another wild teenage party needing backup” he moaned as he picked up his cell phone and flicked it open, his knife still in hand from chopping carrots.

“Officer Riley speaking” Jack answered.

“Jack, it’s Lieutenant Burmer, you are needed at the station. Homicide has a lead on that Nolan murder you have been working on. Looks like you were right after all, post-mortem examination has confirmed the murder weapon was a sharpened thin piece of metal. Fits the Coat Hanger Serial Killer’s MO and we have a trace on the original murder site thanks to your close work with Homicide”, Jacks eyes widened, the knife fell and clanged onto the tiled floor startling Evelyn.

Jack had been working with Detective Jason Blake on the murder case for several weeks since discovering the body at the inner city park. At first it looked like a simple rape and murder case due to the body’s scratch marks and unsavoury damage to the woman’s genitalia. Jack had noticed, however, that the body had a few small speckles of what seemed to be metal dust on her left elbow. Jack had a nagging feeling that the murder was more than what it had first seemed, and now it was looking like he was right. Jason Blake was the detective to receive the case and had been impressed with Jacks eye for detail. He invited Jack to work with him on the case, an offer that he could not refuse as this would open doors for his career. Since then, Jack had been mainly liaising with the Homicide department and dealing with pesky reporters, a job which seemed a nuisance and had rolled down the chain of command and abruptly ended with himself.

“I’ll be there in twenty” Jack promptly answered the Lieutenant.

“Great, see you soon, the briefing will start in half an hour. We are going after this son of a bitch!” and with that the Lieutenant hung up the phone.

‘Finally, some real police work’ Jack thought to himself as he couldn't help but salivate over opportunities that this operation would create.

“Is everything okay babe?” a worried voice broke his thoughts and Jack realised that he had been staring into space for the past couple of minutes. Evelyn was standing on the other side of the counter looking at him with a dismayed look on her face.

“Oh, yeah sorry hun, everything is great, we have a lead on the case, looks like I was right about my hunch. I have to go into the station, we are going after him” he grinned at her though the worried look didn't disappear.

“Going after him? No Jack please don’t go!” tears started to well in her eyes. Jack moved around to the opposite side of the counter and wrapped his arms around his fiancĂ©.

“It’s okay babe, I’m just the shit kicker. I won’t be in any danger.” He assured her, and then added “If anything, they probably just want me there to take care of the media again, keep them off the department’s back.” He pulled his head back and looked at her in the eyes. They were streaming now though they showed a hint of relief. He smiled, and said “I’ll call you once I’m done to let you know that I’m safe okay?”

Evelyn nodded silently and warily smiled back.

“Please be safe, I love you” she managed to squeak our between the sobs.

“I love you too babe and I will. I’ll talk to you in a few hours” Jack kissed her softly on the lips and released her from his hold. He quickly gathered his car keys, wallet, badge, pistol and a black sports bag which held his police uniform and then headed for the door.

Jack popped the boot of his old Ford Falcon sedan. The half crescent moon was now a third of its way into its journey across the clear night sky and provided a dim silver glow to the street. Jack threw the sports bag into the boot and slammed it shut. By habit he glanced around the street and took in his surroundings. The street was a normal suburban street. Each house had neat, closely cropped lawn and well-kept gardens. The residents of the street were not rich by any means though they were neither poor, and took pride in their homes. Jack could not see any other people in the street, though each house had dimly lit windows and he assumed that most were sitting down for their evening meal. There were a few cars in some of the driveways, and Jack noticed a white minivan parked a few houses down under the shadow of a large Patmore Ash tree. He was running late however and gave no more thought to the otherwise normal surroundings. He opened his car door and sat in the driver’s side seat. Turning the car on, Jack lit a cigarette and shifted into gear before commencing his journey towards the Kent Street Police Station.

It was nearly 2 o'clock in the morning by the time that Jack picked up his phone to call Evelyn. The operation had been a dud. The forensics experts had found the originating warehouse for the metal dust that Jack had found on the victim and the profilers had singled out an employee to whom their profile matched. They were to seize the suspect in the dead of night at his home, however when they arrived they found only the empty shell of a house. The perpetrator had recently moved on. During the debrief Lieutenant Burmer advised the team that it was likely that the suspect had used an alias with a fake address whilst working at the warehouse and that the lead was a dead end.

There was no answer on the home telephone, and the same result on Evelyn’s cell phone.

‘She must be asleep’ thought Jack and he decided that he would head home.



As he drove slowly into the driveway of his suburban home, Jack noticed that the white minivan had gone. He also noticed that the front door to his house was left ajar. Alarm bells rang in his mind as his hand made its own subconscious way to the hilt of his pistol. His heart began to thump in his throat and ears. His surroundings seemed to be distant and remote, almost like viewing them through the fringes of a television screen. Sweat trickled down his brow. He moved silently along the shadows of the wall and reached the front door. There was no sound to be heard barring the hoot of an owl in a near tree and the thumping in his ears. Jack moved into the entry, peering all around for any sign of danger. It was the smell that he noticed first, the smell of piss, shit and oil. It was coming from the family room. Slowly, with his back to the wall, he cautiously moved his way to the edge of the doorway. He took a shallow breath and braced himself for something bad. Cocking his pistol he peered around the door frame. Jack froze. His eyes blurred and anxiety took its grip over his mind and body. The sight was frightful and it was not until he heard the moaning of Evelyn’s voice that he was able to piece together what he saw. Evelyn was standing on a dining room char. Her mouth was sealed by what looked like masking tape, a noose tied firmly about her neck. Each arm was stretched out in a crucifix style with rope tied at each wrist and holding her posture open. She was naked and blood trickled down her subtle breasts, past her stomach, down her legs and pooled in a murky puddle beneath the chair. She had long thin metal hooks stabbed deep into her body, one for each breast, three on either side of her stomach and two into her groin area. Her eyes opened a little and Jack saw fear and sadness within them.

‘She’s alive!’ he thought. He started towards her thinking only to help her and relieve her of such evil. Jack’s attention to detail failed him. As soon as he entered the room he heard a twang followed by her muffled scream. He had tripped a wire that was strung across the doorway, it released some kind of weight that had dropped and pulled the metal hooks in opposite directions. Evelyn’s breasts tore open revealing muscle and fatty tissue. The three in either side of her stomach shredded gashes and tore openings by which guts and blood poured and spilled onto the floor. The two on either side of her crotch ripped open and Jack knew that he could not save her. Jack fell to his knees. He could not speak or move. His head spun, his stomach emptied, the bloodied pine floorboards rush towards him and finally all he saw was black.

© Copyright 2012 Rolph Darren (philbeckwith at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1898174-Psycona---Chapter-1