Part I: A Call For Help
Detective John McKinesy sat at his old desk at the police station reading the newspaper’s article about Ms. Angela De Luca’s murder for the tenth time. One of the things that struck him the most was reading his name in the papers again.
“This murder does not only mark the return of The Surrealist, but also the return of Detective John McKinesy, the man who was in charge of the murderer’s killing spree investigation five years ago.”
McKinesy tossed away the newspaper on the desk and lit up a cigarette, his eyes scanned around the room then settled at the left-hand corner of his desk where a photograph of his beloved Daisy with her mystical smile and ocean blue eyes once stood in a sliver lined wooden frame. His mind, with all its sharpness felt weary as it started projecting images of the happiest time of his life, all the beautiful moments he experienced with Daisy. These thoughts never really left his mind, but seemed to have imprinted themselves at a dark corner in his subconscious. The memory of her blue eyes was the strongest, for her eyes were the fist things he noticed about her. Sitting there in the corner of a Jazz joint with a hat covering half her face, then she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and that was the moment his heart sprang up to his throat and back again. She was the woman, the one and only.
His thoughts were cut off by a voice, a voice of someone saying something he couldn’t make out, a man in a police uniform stood in front of his desk eyeing him. He said it again but the Detective was somewhere else.
“You’ve got a phone call, Mac.” John finally heard the police officer say.
“Who is it?” John said clearing his throat.
“Some girl called all screamin’, askin’ for ya.”
The Detective lifted himself up from his chair and walked outside of his office where a few officers hung around. The officer who came and disturbed McKinesy’s alone time motioned to a phone that stood on the counter. John McKinesy picked it up.
“This is Detective McKinesy, who’s this?”
“This is Esther Miller,” a panicky young woman’s voice came through the ear piece “I’m Angela Sm— De Luca’s friend.”
“What seems to be the problem Ms. Miller.”
“I need your help, detective,” she screamed “You’re the only one who could help me!”
“Calm down, Miss. Just take a few breaths and tell me what’s wrong.”
“There’s no time! I have information on the murder of good ol’ Angela, but I feel like I’m in grave danger.”
“What’s your address ma’am, I’ll drive right up.”
“It’s 90341 7th street, two blocks from Louis’s Drugstore. Fourth floor, apartment twenty.”
“I’ll be right there.” John said.
“Please hurry, detective. There isn’t much time!”
Detective John McKinesy hung up the phone and stood for a moment, trying to make heads or tails of this phone call. He then ran to his office, picked up his hat and overcoat, then headed down to his car —which he got back from the parking lot in front of Rosie’s before coming to the station.
* * *
It took McKinesy about an hour to reach Louis’ Drugstore all the way across town, the store’s neon sign lit the street in a red hue. John flung a cigarette butt out the window as he drove past the store. His mind kept trying to solve that jigsaw puzzle of a case as he rolled his car into the second block past the drugstore, he caught a shadow at the corner of his eyes but disregard it as the light from his car reflected off a metal sign nailed to the entrance of an apartment building.
He parked his car in the dark street right in front of the building, and got out fixing his coat. He entered the building and climbed up to the fourth floor where only two doors on either side stood. He walked to the door that had the number 20 nailed to it, the door stood ajar with a thin line of light coming from the inside of the apartment. Detective McKinesy took out his pistol and knocked twice on the door with no answer from the inside. He put his left shoulder to the door and slowly pushed it open, the squeaking sound of the door’s hinges echoed in the silence. John walked inside with his gun leading the way, the apartment looked trashed. A large table stood upside down in the middle of the room surrounded by chairs and cotton from the insides of a couch which was also flipped in the corner. He carefully made his way across the room, walking through the mess. He looked around for a bit until he found the door to the bedroom. John McKinesy opened the door, his gun fell out of his hand at the sight which laid right in front of his eyes. A naked young woman hung by the neck from a rope that was tied to a ceiling-lamp. The young woman’s eyes were scratched out, leaving nothing but trails of dark blood down her cheeks. On her chest, right above her small breasts, the words ‘See No Evil’ were carved. John couldn’t take his eyes off the dead body, but when he did; he noticed the words ‘Crazy Blue Eyes’ written neatly in dark ink on the wall behind the dead girl. He looked around and saw that this room was also trashed, nothing in its rightful place. John bent down and picked up his pistol from beneath the girl’s limp feet that hovered a few inches from the floor. Two feet away, a chair lay on its side amidst the mess. John put his gun back into its holster and walked outside the room looking for a telephone. He found it right behind a broken bureau next to the flipped table. He picked it up holding the receiver in his right hand, he thought for a moment then made the call.
“Hello, this is the Chief of police.”
“Chief, it’s McKinesy, we got ourselves a problem.”
[End of Chapter Five, Part I]
(To be continued…)