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Elmhurst, Queens: F.B.I. Special Agent Eileen Rivers walked up to the cop standing in front of the crime scene tape in front of the apartment door and displayed her credentials. The cop smirked and raised the tape for her. She warily walked into the sparsely furnished but tidy dwelling and looked for the first “suit” that she saw. People wearing blue windbreakers emblazoned with “Forensics” were everywhere at once in the tiny apartment.
Detective Eric Gobert looked at the fed with interest. The flaming red hair, designer business suit and high heels allured him. Gobert gave himself a quick once over. He was wearing his good blue Italian suit from “Bloomingdale’s.”
He began to speak and extend his hand as he walked toward Rivers.
“Hi. Detective Eric Gobert, Special Crimes Division.” he said coolly.
Rivers smiled and shook his hand. “Special Agent Eileen Rivers, F.B.I. What do we have here, Detective Gobert?”
“Just Eric, if we’re going to be on this case together.” Eric smiled. “Double murder. Male and female stabbed to death as they were post coital in the bedroom.”
“Jealous husband? Or maybe wife?” Rivers asked.
“Both have alibis. Working.”
“Hmm, first you find out about that your spouse is dead, then you find out that they’re cheating. Life’s a bitch. Let’s have a look.”
They walked towards the bedroom. Eric caught a whiff of Eileen’s perfume as she walked with him.
“Fuckin’ ‘Flower Bomb.’ Smells like fuckin’ Diane.” Eric thought to himself as he briefly lamented on his ex-wife.
The male and female victims were still in bed naked laying on their backs side by side. Blood drenched the sheets. Both had their eyes still open with looks of shock on their faces.
“Your team get anything?” Eileen asked.
“Yeah, still testing.” replied Eric.
“Good.”
“Well, let’s let the clean-up here start. I’ve got some more paperwork at the house.” Eric said matter-of-factly.
“The house?”
“The precinct, ma’am.”
“Oh.” Eileen smiled.”Just Eileen.” She was impressed with his cool air and manners. “We can take my car if you don’t mind.”
Eric beamed. “Sure. I heard that the Feds have the best cars.”
Eileen laughed. “Yeah. It’s the Jag with the F.B.I. plaque parked at the hydrant out front.”
As they exited the building and through the police barriers, flashing lights from cameras were everywhere.
“Detective! Detective!” shouted an attractive Latina reporter. “Is this homicide connected with the ones at Lover’s Lane? Do we have a serial killer?”
Eric smiled. “You know that I can’t answer anything until the investigation is complete, Nancy.”
Cameras continued to flash as Eric and Eileen walked towards Eileen’s Crown Victoria.
1
The “Cartoon Lounge” on Broadway and Queens Boulevard seemed almost deserted except for the female bartender, a drunken Filipino-American couple singing along with the jukebox and Eric and Eileen.
“Yeah. The perp is definitely behind the killings at all the Lover’s Lane spots.” said Eric.
“I thought Lover’s Lane was one place.”
“No. Flushing Meadow Park, Forest Park and Astoria Park. Plus the two double murders at the ‘Boulevard Motel’ and at the ‘Woodhaven Motel.’”
“Any theories?” asked Eileen.
“Yeah. All the women in the murders were unfaithful wives.”
“No shit!”
“Yup. Serial killer. That’s why you’re here. I take it that you’re a psychology major.”
Eileen was impressed. “Very profound.”
“No. ‘Silence of the Lambs,’ Clarice.” Eric smiled.
“You’re hysterical!” Eileen laughed.
“This thing is spread over the past year and still no hairs, no saliva, no nothing at the crime scenes. It’s like the perp wore hospital scrubs or something.”
“Did you look into the area hospitals?”
“Hell no. That’s like a blind man looking for a black cat in a dark alley that isn’t there. The city won’t pay for all the overtime and manpower required for an investigation of that magnitude. Besides, anyone can get hospital scrubs from anywhere.”
Eileen sipped her Cosmopolitan. Ever consider looking into the possibility of an occult angle?”
“Yeah. But there’s not even any evidence of that to go on. No markings, no seasonal traditions, nothing.”
“Ah, so you’re well-read on the subject of the occult.”
“Nah. Just enough to know that the occult’s not even a factor in this.” Eric smiled as he guzzled his beer and raised his hand to the bartender for another round.
2
Tobier sat in his decorative living room and stared at his wedding picture sitting on the mantle above the fireplace thirty feet across from where he was sitting and wept.
“He is unworthy of you. He lacked your intelligence, your wit. You just thought he was cute. You fuckin’ whore!”
He threw the obsidian blade angrily, yet skillfully at the picture. His aim was true and the frame fell from the mantle crashing on the hardwood floor.
He then grabbed the pill bottles on the coffee table.
“All the Buspirone and Citalopram in the world couldn’t help me.” Tobier stuttered. “My Sinister Feminine. The bane of my existence. The love of my life.”
He walked to his refrigerator and opened a can of Coors. “Iguana’s.” Tobier smiled to himself as he thought of the bar that his ex-wife and her boyfriend would sometimes meet during the bad old days before they died in the fiery car “accident” last year. Tobier had cut the brake lines of her car.
3
Rivers and Gobert examined the car on 172nd St. and 76th Rd. The passenger side window was broken. The woman in the passenger seat was leaning towards the driver’s seat, her head rested on the driver’s lap. Blood was everywhere.
“Same fuckin’ thing. Stabbed.” Eric said disgustedly.
“Wedding bands on both the vics.” added Eileen.
As they continued to look into the car, a well-dressed middle-aged man approached them. Eric nodded at him.
“Hey, what you got, Teddy?” Eric smiled. “Special Agent Rivers, this is Detective Ottaviano.”
Ottaviano and Rivers smiled and nodded at each other briefly.
“Some witnesses came forward and I.D.’d the lovebirds. They were all over each other at ‘Iguana’s’ on Union Turnpike last night. Know the place?”
“Yeah. Mostly a hangout for St. John’s students, but a few twenty and thirty somethings make their way over.” answered Eric.
“Figures you would know all the bars, Eric.” joked Teddy as he walked away. “I’ll have the report on your desk by the time you get back to the house, you lush.”
Eric laughed. “It’s been real as always.”
“Want to go to ‘Iguana’s’?” Eileen asked.
“Is that an invitation or part of the investigation?”
Eileen smiled. “Well, we can’t show creds, question the staff and then take shots all in one sitting. First ‘Iguana’s,’ then ‘Cartoon Lounge.’ What do you think?”
“I think that I like you, Eileen.” Eric said.
Eileen blushed. “I like you too.”
4
“An anonymous police source has confirmed that a hair sample was found at the scene of the latest double murder in Fresh Meadows and investigators are working feverishly to solve the case of the so-called ‘Valentine Killer.’
“Shit!” Tobier yelled. He threw his half empty beer can at the T.V. screen. “Shit on a fuckin’ stick!”
The phone rang. Tobier jumped up startled and walked towards it.
“Hello?” asked Tobier nervously.
“Don’t worry about anything. You already know what to do. You know holds the key.” said the voice on the other end.
“I…I can’t do that.” stammered Tobier.
“You must. Then your work will be incomplete. These mundanes will find you.”
“All right. All right.”
“Good.” the other line clicked.
Tobier found solace in another can of beer and smiled.
“It will be done.”
5
“What the fuck, Eileen? Are you holding out on me?” Eric demanded.
“No way. I would never do that. Forensics got the sample and they tested it. No match with any perp with priors so far. Although I’m currently working on something right now that I will let you in on.”
“What’s that?”
“‘The Black Book of Satan.’ I don’t know what possessed me, but I had to look at this occult angle again. I did some digging and found out a few things. Actually, the F.B.I. Director put a bug in my ear about something.”
“Chloe Skinner herself gave you orders?” Eric asked.
“Yeah. She really wanted me to look at this occult angle. Seems that the Bureau and N.Y.P.D. have a hard-on for some Satanic group. Three Five Two.”
“Holy shit! Yeah, they killed some cops and feds back in 2008.” Eric exclaimed.
“I’m not supposed to really let you in on this, Eric. But I really care for you.” Eileen kissed Eric on the lips.
Eric smiled. “I don’t care about the glory of the bust too much anyway. I just care about you being okay. Be careful. I got your back if anything.”
Eileen and Eric embraced for what would be the last time.
6
Tobier glanced at the drunken Filipino couple sitting three bar stools down at “Cartoon Lounge.” They were drinking and carrying on as they did almost every night for a month. He took a closer look at them as they walked by him towards the front door. No wedding bands.
“I should opfer them for singing badly.” Tobier laughed to himself. He finished his beer and surveyed the now empty bar. He motioned towards the bartender. The attractive Asian twenty something smiled at him and walked over.
“What can I get you?”
“What time do you get off, beautiful?”
“I can close right now. It’s totally dead in here.”
Tobier smiled and the bartender grabbed keys hanging on the hook behind her and walked towards the front door.
7
Eileen began to cry as she sat at her home workstation in Rockaway, New Jersey. The phone rang and Eileen jumped.
“Hello?” Eileen asked nervously.
“Hey. You don’t sound good. Are you okay?” Eric asked on the other line.
“Um…I’m reading the last chapter of the Black Book of Satan. The part where they have the Satanic names.”
“I’m vaguely familiar with it. What about it?”
“Well…I…uh…was playing around with the names and…”
“Eileen, talk to me.”
“I just hope that it’s just coincidence but I found out that the Valentine Killer’s name is Tobier Croe. We rounded up two Temple members earlier and that’s what we got.”
Eric laughed. “Doesn’t sound like a very Satanic name to me. I was thinking more along the lines of Asmodeus or Crucifier and stuff. Or something.”
“Well, like I said. I think that it’s just coincidence. The Black Book says that the Satanic name is a derivative of ones own name. I was doing some playing around and derived a name from Tobier Croe.”
“Well, what is it? I’m dying to know!”
“Um…uh…Eric Gobert.” Eileen tried to hide her crying.
Just then, the window in her den shattered and Eric climbed through the opening holding his cell phone. He drew a gun and walked towards Eileen, who stood up startled by the sudden commotion.
“I can’t let you bring me down Eileen. I wish that I didn’t have to.”
Eileen screamed and Eric pulled the trigger.
In the distance, a pack of stray dogs howled.
I secretly crave, crave that scent again
Still feel it pressing on me now
Now with the onset, my flesh is weakening
I steel my nerves for temptations at hand again
And I hear this calling
Still you don’t seem so far at all
And I hear this calling out
No secret deception, for these would tear this down
I’ll note the past, spread the pain
(Spread the pain)
Words match my deeds with brutal honesty
Never forget these choices were made by me
And I hear this calling
Still you don’t seem so far at all
And I hear this calling
Still you don’t seem so far at all
And I hear
(And I hear)
This calling out
Not falling victim to the fire that burns inside of me
Though I am fearful, I will not prevent this tragedy
My strength’s been tested, I wear the scars that prove
Still I believe that this calling will see me through
And I hear this calling
Still you don’t seem so far at all
And I hear this calling
Still you don’t seem so far at all
And I hear
(And I hear)
This calling out
My strength’s been tested, I wear the scars that prove
Still I believe that this calling will see me through
Still I believe this calling will see me through, oh
–“This Calling” – All That Remains
Sinister Fiction and Dark Poetry 