The Conspirator's Agenda Page 4

  ***

  “Hey Nick, Max here. Give me a call.” That was the one and only message on Nick’s cell phone, and he could tell by his friend’s voice that it was important. He sounded more nasally when he was freaking about something.

  Nick had just gotten home, and dialed up Max right away. “What’s going on?”

  “Another DOA just came in. Another small letter—a V—is carved on her right leg…”

  “…Just like Meghan. I’m coming down.”

  “You’ve got to wait until 9 p.m. That’s when I’m solo today.”

  “Okay. Keep the body as fresh and intact as you can. Similar victim profile?”

  “Very similar Nick. I’ll do the best I can to keep the body fresh, but Avery has already been here telling me to release him the autopsy results first—no one else is to get it under any circumstance.”

  “What a prick.”

  “And a bad one to have on your bad side. He really hates you, man.”

  “At least he shows it. It’s the ones who pretend they don’t that really are the most challenging.”

  The thromping that Nick had gotten the night before really took its toll on him, and he decided to take a nap before going to visit Max that night. He needed a fresh mind, and a few pain killers to help him forget just how bad his ribs hurt.

  Nighttime came quickly, and Nick made his way to the county morgue again. This time he was not going to be leaving out the backdoor to have a smoke though. He made sure he had one around the corner of the building, hidden in the shadows before entering. Not that it was an effective disguise per say, but he wore his baseball hat low over his head, hiding his blonde spiked hair.

  As he was getting set to walk into the building he had to do an abrupt halt, and duck out of the way. Avery was walking out and he didn’t look all too happy. Had he been to the morgue or up to the administrative offices? There were lots of offices for various county positions in the building.

  Avery jumped into his unmarked car, and sped off in a hurry. Nick went into the building and made his way downstairs. He pushed open the swinging doors to the morgue and didn’t see Max anywhere.

  “Max.”

  No answer.

  “Hey Max,” Nick called out again, walking toward the back of the room. Max’s office was in the back corner. He heard a voice coming from the office, and thought Max must have been on his phone or something. Nick walked around the corner and found Max talking on the telephone. Max turned to him, and raised his finger to his lips. Since Max didn’t tell Nick to leave he sat down, wondering what the hell was going on. There weren’t often too many hush hush conversations that someone who performed autopsy’s had, considering he wasn’t around a high number of alive and breathing bodies.

  Nick listened to Max talk. “Yes…no, not confirmed…seal the file…why sir?...okay then.”

  Sealing files, now that was something interesting for Nick to hear, and definitely something he’d actively embraced fighting against. Max hung up, and Nick asked, “What file do you have to seal?”

  “The one that I called you on.”

  “Interesting. Why?”

  “Family doesn’t wish to pursue any investigation, and put a writ on the autopsy due to religious beliefs.”

  “That’s a new one.”

  “Smart attorney, I guess.”

  “Well, can I get down to business? You can pretend I’m not here while you are closing down the file. By the way, was Avery down here? I just saw him leaving.”

  “He was, and he ordered me to cease the autopsy too. I called my boss, and they confirmed that’s what I should do. That’s what you heard.”

  “What is going on? It doesn’t make any sense at all. It seems like we’re the only two people that aren’t in on a secret, some sort of conspiracy agenda, doesn’t it?”

  “Kind of. It’s not too often that you find cases being closed down that have only just begun.”

  “Alright, give me some gloves and let’s take a tour of….what’s our new victim’s name?”

  “Valerie for you, case number 1567-B for me.”

  “Let’s see what sweet Valerie has to tell us.”

  “What’s her last name?”

  “Stryper. She comes from a good family too, just like Gleason did.”

  “Same age and color of hair too. Same school?

  “Yep.”

  “Think it’s some sicko serial killer?” Nick scratched his head. It all seemed so cliché, and that was frustrating. It went to show that many people who killed perhaps did think the same way.

  “How would I know that, Nick? You’re the detective, not me.”

  “Don’t insult me. You have good hunches, although you choose to avoid them in lieu of being trapped in this cement canister with dead bodies for a living.”

  Max rolled his eyes. “Serial maybe, but it doesn’t seem to be driven by revenge. It’s more like a jolly, trying to one up the system…something like that.”

  “The egomaniac. Fascinating concept. I see the tongue is cut on sweet Valerie too. From what you told me yesterday, it seems like this one was also cut after.”

  “You got it,” Max replied.

  “Have the cut tongues ever been found?”

  “Not from what I understand, although I seldom find out things like that from the detectives. That’s the creepiest part actually, if you ask me. Whoever is doing this is likely keeping them for a souvenir, or something sick like that.”

  “Yuck. Are the cuts amateur or pro?”

  “Definitely amateur, and not with a very sharp tool either.”

  “Knife?”

  “Small jackknife.”

  “A regular boy scout, huh?”

  “Or a brunette scout,” Max said, laughing at his lame joke.

  “That was bad, but you’re probably right about the brunette thing. I wonder what it is with brunettes. Mommy issue, scorned by a looker; those are both common options for the demented.”

  Max shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t enjoy speculating about victim’s lives or calling them by name the way that Nick did. He wondered how he did it. Maybe it was a defense mechanism, something he’d had to do in order to get over everything he’d seen in his life.

  “Well, I don’t know what else I can get from this tonight, Max,” Nick said. “Keep me updated when you’ve completed the autopsy and make me a copy of what you’ve been told not to create. I need anything I can get.”

  “Got it friend. By the way, you look like shit. What happened to you?”

  “A little surprise encounter when I was leaving here last night. The guy was huge, bigger than you in your prime, Mad Max.”

  “Well at least I trained you to defend yourself, huh?”

  “I don’t recall you teaching me cigarette burns to the lip. Busting knees, yes; cigarette burns, no.”

  “You busted a knee?”

  “Yah, but it was only fair. He busted one of my ribs first.”

  “Man, be careful. You really should carry a gun, you know.”

  “I feel like that would be bad karma, plus it’s saved me from having to endure a good many internal investigations in the past. Even though I don’t have those anymore, I like the image of being a scrawny defenseless vagabond. I pull it off well, don’t you think?”

  “No comment. Catch you later, Nick. I’ve got to get back to work. Avery is coming back at 2 a.m. to make sure that I’ve disposed of any signs of 1567-B’s existence.”

  “2 a.m. huh. That means he’s at Scully’s having a few. I think I’ll meander over that way.”

  “Don’t walk into detective central, Nick. Even you can’t pull that off.”

  “I won’t. Oh, before I go, I have one more thing.” Max looked up, waiting. “Do you have any fingerprints that you pulled from the Meghan case, and can you pull some if you find them from the Valerie case?”

  “Sure. I’ll drop them off tomorrow at your apartm
ent, okay?”

  “Sounds good.”