Grim Reflections (Gray Spear Society Book 9) Page 3

  "Anything to report?" the commander said.

  "Not a whole lot, sir." Smythe quickly summarized his observations.

  "Sounds like the guy was on steroids or something."

  "That's my hypothesis. He needed medicinal help to get a body like that. He definitely looked unnatural."

  "Maybe that 'help' made him crazy," Aaron said. "Contaminated PED's? That could explain the sudden outbreak. Some chemist is cooking up bad juice and making a lot of dopers sick. I'm hoping when the police catch more of these cannibals, a pattern will emerge. Three more half-eaten bodies were found while you were driving to the morgue. The media is going ballistic. They're already calling it a plague."

  Smythe winced. "I have tissue and blood samples. A chemical analysis might provide some answers."

  "Come back to headquarters and begin that analysis right away."

  "What about Tawni and Sheryl?"

  "Have them talk to the cop who was first on the scene," Aaron said. "He might remember something that he forgot to put in his report. I'll text the address to their phones. He's at home right now."

  "You've been looking into the cannibal's background, right? Any leads?"

  "None so far. He was a very ordinary man until this." Aaron sounded frustrated. "I have to go to Chinatown today to perform an inspection. If I'm not here when you show up, just get started on that analysis. This investigation has become urgent."

  "Yes, sir. We'll leave immediately."

  Chapter Three

  Sheryl listened to the salty slush splash against the underside of the car. Tawni was driving, and Sheryl was glad. The experience in the morgue had left her shaken. Despite all her training, she still didn't have the ice water in her veins that the other legionnaires seemed to have. Scenes of horror still affected her. She wondered if she would ever acquire the hard shell she needed to do her job properly.

  Tawni parked on the street in front of a yellow, wooden house. It was wedged between a white house and a red house with hardly any space in between. The yellow house had a main floor, a basement, and maybe a little space in the attic. It was small even by city standards.

  "This is it," she said. "We'll stick with the same cover story as the morgue."

  Sheryl put on her pink gloves, tightened her scarf, and pulled her cap down over her ears. She zipped up her coat as far as it would go.

  Tawni was wearing a puffy, purple parka made more for a man than a woman, but it looked very warm. Stylish, black leather gloves were just right for her. She had purple ear muffs instead of a hat.

  "I'm ready," Sheryl said. "Let's go."

  She stepped out of the car and put her foot directly in a puddle of freezing slush. She hopped onto the sidewalk immediately, but a little water had already reached her sock. Cold wind bit her nose.

  "Shit," she muttered. "I hate this fucking weather."

  She and Tawni hurried across a snow-covered lawn and climbed an icy staircase to reach the front door. Tawni knocked loudly.

  After a minute, the door opened, and a man peered out. He was in his twenties and moderately fit. His brown hair was cut short. He was wearing a blue, terrycloth bathrobe.

  "Officer Lowry?" Sheryl said.

  "That's right." He nodded. "Who are you?"

  "We're investigators from the Illinois Bureau of Violent Crime. We have some questions about last night's shooting."

  "I already wrote a full report."

  "And we read it," she said. "We want to hear it again from you. Maybe you'll remember some new details."

  Lowry frowned.

  "I know it's difficult for you," Sheryl said, "but we have to do this. Lives are at stake. Please."

  His shoulders drooped. "Come in. I should probably see some identification first."

  Sheryl and Tawni entered the home and produced their badges. He inspected the fake identification carefully before returning it. He seemed satisfied.

  "What are you doing at home in the middle of the day?" Tawni said.

  "I'm on temporary medical leave," Lowry said. "I was pretty rattled last night. The lieutenant wants me to talk to a shrink before I put the uniform back on."

  "It was that bad?"

  He nodded.

  He sat on a battered, green couch in a front room. Tawni and Sheryl sat on wooden chairs, the only other furniture in the room. A picture on the wall showed the officer with a woman and two children, but Sheryl didn't hear anybody else in the house. Another picture showed the man's graduation class from the police academy. An old-fashioned chandelier hung from the ceiling, but one of the arms had broken off.

  "Start from the beginning," Sheryl said.

  "I don't like thinking about it," Lowry said.

  "Please." She unzipped her coat and took a notepad and a pen from the pocket of her suit.

  He sighed loudly. "We got the call around 9:30 PM. At first it was reported as a domestic disturbance. My partner and I drove over to the apartment building. I heard the woman screaming from down the hall. That's when I knew it was bad." He paused.

  She waited patiently for him to continue.

  "We knocked on the door, but nobody responded," he said. "The woman kept screeching like she was being tortured. I kicked open the door and entered with my gun drawn. The guy had the woman pinned down with his hand on her neck. He had a bloody kitchen knife in his other hand. His face was inside her thigh, and he was chewing on the meat. She had other wounds..." He swallowed.

  "We know," Sheryl said. "We saw the body."

  "She was hitting him with her good arm, but he didn't care. There was so much blood. I could tell she was almost gone. My partner and I ordered the perp to get off her, but he ignored us. We tried to grab him. The perp slugged my partner hard enough to crack a rib. He threw me half-way across the room like I was a doll."

  "The guy was strong?"

  "Extremely, and fast. I'm guessing he was on amphetamines. He had a weird look in his eyes. His whole body was shaking. Some meat was caught between his teeth." Lowry shuddered.

  "Go on."

  "He went back to eating. I fired a warning shot, but he didn't respond. I aimed at his chest and told him I would pull the trigger if he didn't surrender. That's when he came at me with the knife."

  "And you killed him?" Sheryl said.

  He nodded. "It was self-defense. My partner saw it all. He'll testify."

  "We're not accusing you of anything, officer. We're just gathering information. What else did you see?"

  "The woman was bleeding to death. We called for an ambulance, but we knew it wouldn't do any good. I stepped out of the apartment so I could clear my head. The door of the next apartment was open, so I checked it out. I found a lot of dead animals inside."

  "What kind of animals?" she said.

  "Cats and dogs, mostly. Some of the carcasses were rotting. There were a million flies. The smell..." He swallowed and appeared uneasy.

  "The cannibal had eaten them?"

  "Yes."

  "What else do you remember?"

  "Exercise equipment," Lowry said. "The perp had a ton of exercise equipment."

  Sheryl nodded. "Makes sense. He was very muscular."

  "That's all I know. I puked on the floor and left. I couldn't go back. I'm sure the detectives collected a lot of evidence and took a lot of pictures. Did you talk to them?"

  "We're going over everything."

  "I saw the news this morning," he said. "There are other cases like this one. In Evanston, they found one guy with his legs almost chewed off. The story is on every channel. What's going on?"

  "That's what we're trying to figure out. Thank you for your time."

  Sheryl and Tawni stood up and zipped their coats.

  They went back out into the miserable cold. Snow was still falling. It covered up the ice in spots and made walking even more treacherous. Snow had been shoveled off the sidewalks to form great barriers on either side. Sheryl made sure her footing was secure before taking each step.

  "Aaron told
me he's never seen a winter like this."

  "Yeah," Tawni said. "I've been through some bad Chicago winters, but this one is the worst. How long has it been snowing? Two weeks?"

  "You think God is doing this intentionally?"

  Tawni shrugged. "Maybe He's trying to keep the twins safe. It will be tougher for His enemies to operate under these conditions."

  "That's not really fair to everybody else who has to suffer with this weather," Sheryl said.

  "I'm not sure the Lord really cares about fair. People suffer all the time for the stupidest reasons, and He doesn't stop it."

  They got into the car. Tawni started the engine and set the heater to full blast.

  Sheryl took out her phone, put it in speaker mode, and called Aaron.

  "Yes?" he said.

  "We talked to Officer Lowry, sir." She summarized the conversation to the best of her ability.

  "The cannibal's behavior is interesting. It confirms drugs are involved. Weight lifters sometimes take amphetamines or cocaine while working out so they have more energy."

  "Maybe a dealer is selling bad drugs," Tawni said. "That's why it's happening all over."

  "It's a good theory," Aaron said. "I'm hoping Smythe will find something in the samples he took. He can test for drug residue."

  "What are you doing now, sir?" Sheryl said.

  "Reading police reports and studying crime scene photos. Looking for patterns. There is a lot of material to go through. We're already up to ten similar cases scattered across northern Chicago and the burbs. The stack of paper on my desk is a foot thick. We have to move faster. This situation is getting worse in a hurry. Unfortunately, I have to go to Chinatown now to inspect the construction."

  "What do you want us to do?"

  "The cannibal worked for a real estate agency in Lincolnwood," he said. "Go to his office and talk to his co-workers. I'll text the address to you."

  "Yes, sir," she said.

  * * *

  Smythe walked into headquarters. He was carrying a cooler containing dry ice and the samples he had collected. He was eager to begin his analysis. The pressure to move this investigation along was already intense.

  He heard Bethany speaking in sharp tones in the science laboratory. Her voice consisted of artificial hums, clicks, and pure notes. It didn't convey any emotion normally. If she sounded angry at all, it had to be serious.

  He walked into the laboratory and found Bethany chastising one of her scientists. The target of Bethany's wrath was a woman with gray hair and a wrinkled face. She was wearing a white lab coat which went down to her knees.

  "I'm sorry, ma'am," the old woman said with a bowed head.

  "The waveguides must be flawless," Bethany said. "Even a one nanometer deviation could create a catastrophic breakdown."

  "Mistakes happen, ma'am. That's why we test every component and redo the work if necessary."

  "We don't have time for mistakes or redoing."

  "Please," the scientist said, "give me a break. I've been working for twenty straight hours."

  Bethany's face tightened slightly. For her, that was a sign of towering rage. "Our deadline is two weeks. At that point, the battery in my skull will run out of power, and my sister and I will die. No breaks will be given."

  She turned towards the door. Smythe intercepted her on the way out of the room.

  "I'm just curious," he said. "What did you mean by a catastrophic breakdown?'"

  She looked up at him with her crystalline, black eyes. Intricate, golden structures were just visible through the semi-opaque material.

  "The aperture will operate at extremely high energy levels," she said. "Any imbalance in the forces would cause a detonation that will exterminate life."

  "On Earth?"

  "And on Alpha Centauri. Excuse me. I have to get back to work."

  Bethany brushed past Smythe and trotted off.

  He decided not to think about it. There was nothing he could do to help.

  He continued on to his medical lab despite obstacles in the hallway. The scientists were leaving junk all over headquarters these days. There simply wasn't enough space or time to put things away properly.

  He walked into his laboratory, hoping to find an island of peace and quiet. Instead, a scientist was using the operating table as a workbench. He was working on a device that looked like a black, metal shoebox.

  "What are you doing in here?" Smythe said.

  He vaguely recalled the scientist's name was Victor. He had a scruffy beard and a mop of black hair on his head. Like his colleagues, he was wearing a white lab coat.

  "I was told to come in here," Victor said. "There is nowhere else to work."

  "This is my personal lab."

  "I'm sorry, sir. I'm just following orders."

  Smythe gritted his teeth. He noticed a big, blank spot on one of his shelves. "Where is my Raman microscope?"

  "I think somebody needed parts from it," Victor said.

  Smythe slammed his cooler onto a counter. He looked up at the ceiling and yelled, "Jack! Where is Norbert?"

  "In the living room, sir," Jack replied through overhead speakers.

  Smythe stormed out of the lab, went around a corner, and entered the living room. The comfortable couch and padded chairs had been shoved over to one side. Exercise equipment had taken their place. There was no room left in the official exercise area for the equipment.

  There was hardly enough room in here. Weight benches, stair climbers, stationary bikes, and strength training machines were packed so close together, reaching one sometimes required climbing over another. The air stank of sweat. The ventilation in this room hadn't been designed with heavy perspiration in mind. The situation was so bad, sometimes the legionnaires used the public gym on the first floor of the hotel.

  Norbert was doing squats while holding a barbell over his head. He was carrying a lot of weight, more than Smythe would've attempted. Norbert had his flaws, but nobody could ever question his dedication or perseverance.

  "Come with me," Smythe said.

  "Why?" Norbert said.

  "I need to talk to your girlfriends."

  "What do you need me for?"

  "To make sure I don't kill them," Smythe said.

  Norbert raised his eyebrows. He put down the barbell with a loud thunk.

  The two men found the twins working on the aperture as usual. Bethany was using an elaborate jig to hold tiny components in place while an industrial robot welded them with a high-precision laser. Leanna was using a video microscope to check the work. It was clear that microns mattered for this job.

  "Girls," Smythe said sternly, "I thought we agreed you would keep your scientists out of my medical lab."

  "Incorrect," Bethany replied without looking at him. "You told us. We ignored you."

  He clenched his fists. "I'm working on an investigation. Chicago has a serious cannibalism problem. People are literally being eaten alive out there! I can't have your minions getting under my feet and stealing my microscopes while I'm trying to do important analysis."

  "Our project is more important."

  "What if this investigation turns into a major crisis? What if hundreds or thousands of people die?"

  "Our project is still more important," Bethany said in her artificial voice.

  Smythe growled. He turned to Norbert and said, "Can you talk to them?"

  Norbert grimaced. "Bethany, it would be really nice if you let Smythe have his space. We're all trying to do our jobs here."

  "Please, go away," she said. "We're very busy right now."

  "Bethany..."

  "Please. The vibrations from your voice are disturbing the alignment of the laser."

  Norbert looked at Smythe and shrugged.

  Smythe stormed back to his lab.

  "Stay out of my way!" he barked at Victor. "If you interrupt me while I'm working, I'll break you in half."

  Victor cowered. "Yes, sir."

  Smythe snorted.

  He lo
oked over Victor's shoulder out of curiosity. The scientist was tweaking nobs on a black, boxy device. It had two cavities that were the size and shape of a coffee cup.

  "What is that?"

  "A physical mirror," Victor said. "Leanna gave me the design. It's incredible. I didn't think it was possible."

  "What's the difference between a regular mirror and a physical mirror?"

  "Put your finger into one of the holes."

  Smythe stuck his finger into a cavity, and a duplicate of his finger appeared in the other cavity. The reflection was three-dimensional and the right size, but the edges were a little blurry. It looked like a poorly focused hologram.

  "It's a mirror trick. So?"

  Victor reached into the second cavity and pinched the image of the finger. Smythe felt the contact. He jerked his hand back in surprise.

  "I'm still tuning it," Victor said. "That's why the reflection isn't perfect."

  Smythe stared at the device with amazement. "You realize you're going to have to forget all this stuff after the project is done. It's forbidden technology. You heard what happened to Kamal?"

  Victor nodded. "We got the lecture on the first day. It's OK. A glimpse of the distant future is still better than no glimpse at all, even if we can't talk about it afterwards. And when the twins turn on the aperture, we'll be able to say we were there, if it doesn't blast our atoms half-way across the galaxy. They're reaching for energy levels that were last seen during the Big Bang."

  "Do you know what the aperture is for?"

  "The twins haven't told us, but we think it will create a passageway."

  "To where?" Smythe said.

  Victor shrugged. "Someplace very far away."

  Smythe frowned. He opened the ice chest and looked at the frozen tissue samples inside. Focus on the mission, he told himself. Lives are depending on you. He began his analysis.

  * * *

  Aaron drove onto the freshly paved parking lot of the building in Chinatown. It was a massive structure: five stories tall and as long as a football field. Exposed concrete pillars ran from the ground to the roof, and bricks filled the spaces in between. Decades of pollution had been meticulously scrubbed off. New windows and doors gleamed in the daylight. The building looked like it had been built this year instead of seventy years ago.