Paimon [Part 2]

The next morning was a cold and dark one. Single blades of grass were trapped inside of frosty prisons. Breath was visible as it slowly crept out. The man woke with a start, his pocket was vibrating and making a jingling sound, his cellular, he had fallen asleep with it in his jeans again. He groggily dug it from his pocket.

“….Hello?” he grumbled into the phone.

 “James, we got to go.”

“Keri?”

It was his partner; she was talking with a soft tone, but still stern, apparently realizing that he must have just awoken.

“We got a scene downtown. It’s ugly, and the chief wants us both down there.”

He was tired, and the last thing he wanted was to go see another bloody crime scene. He had just made homicide two months ago and already he had had his fill of murder.The night before he had, responded to a call of domestic abuse, which had gone too far. It began as a fight over which late night show the couple would watch. The husband, who had a history of abuse, and a grocery list of personality disorders, had decided the best way to settle the argument was to open his wife’s skull with a butcher knife, and cave his six month old daughters in with a cast-iron skillet.. When the cops finally arrived, he was sitting on the couch next to his former wife’s body, watching ‘The Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson’. He had made a full confession without ever stammering or even sighing. He had no remorse. They gave him the insanity plea. He’ll probably be out in five to ten. A week before that, a case involving a three year old Tabitha, her father was shot to death by her mother, who then turned the gun on herself. Tabitha was found asleep, cuddled with the bodies of her parents in their blood soaked bed. This fatal incident was the last event in a chronic pattern of domestic violence, substance abuse, and chaotic living.

He rolled over and looked at his alarm clock; it read 4:17 A.M.

“Alright, I gotta get dressed first.” He said into the phone.

“Hurry, I’m already outside your building.”

She was a good cop, and an even better partner. She had been on homicide for six years and she had become one of the most respected officers in her division. She had come from a dark past and a lot of people thought it strange the career she had chose, but nevertheless, they were thankful that she was on their side. James thought it lucky that his partner would be Keri Lockwood, she was an excellent cop and for being so young she had made a pretty big name for herself. She boasted an amazing ninety-seven percent closure rate. Just about every case she had worked led to a long term conviction, and James being fresh out of the academy would never expect to be paired up with Keri. But it would seem that fate had chosen the two together, Keri would teach James the ropes, and James gave her something to take care of. They both needed each other more than they thought.
He took a quick shower, grabbed his pack Camel No. 27’s and rushed out the door. He got into his partners car, shivering.

“Damn! It’s so cold out, isn’t this supposed to be March?” James asked with a forced smile. He was still a little nervous around her, he was never too good at talking to girls he liked, even though they told him he was very good-looking, he just didn’t see it when he looked in the mirror. Keri began telling him about the crime scene without answering him.

“We got a homicide of an African-American child, age: five.”

“We know who did it yet?” He asked as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

“Everything points to the mother; she was at home, neighbor called the cops complaining of hearing screams from the downstairs apartment where the mother and child lived alone in a one bedroom flat. Uniforms are already there, they’ve arrested her as a suspect and she’s at HQ waiting to be interviewed.”

“I hope this isn’t gonna be another gruesome one, I’m sick of seeing blood.” He said as they pulled off.

“You work Homicide,” she scoffed, “it’s in the job description to see blood.” They rode in silence the rest of the way.

When they arrived there was already a crowd, and news crews, outside the apartment building they treated the yellow caution tape that bordered the building like it was a snake waving its head, poised for its strike. The two detectives exited their vehicle, and made their way up to the apartment building. They walked up the stairs leading to the door of the apartment. The officer, that was first on scene, was standing outside the door, a portly, older-than-he-thinks, looking man, with a big thick gray mustache and a gleaming bald head. Keri approached him, flashed him her badge, “Homicide,” she stated “you the first on scene?”

“Yeah, Officer O’Malley,” he sighed, as he shook both detectives hands. James noted he wouldn’t look either one of them in the eye.

“So what happened in there?” Keri pointed to the door.

“I’ve been workin’ this beat for twenty-five years, and ain’t nothin’ ever get to me like this…. This is some sick shit.” He mumbled as he wiped his eyes, “The kid’s in the bathroom all the way to the back… that… sicko went to work on him like a scene out of ‘Casino’ or somethin’.” He said in a hard voice.

“All right, thanks for your help Officer O’Malley.” Keri said to him, as she brushed passed him into the small musty apartment. James walked up to the man and put his hand on his shoulder and said, “Hey, why don’t you take off for a while... you know, go get some coffee or somethin’.” Officer McMann finally looked up and met the eyes of James. They were red and bloodshot; it was obvious he had been crying. James couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of sorrow and pity for the man, more even because he would be just as embarrassed as McMann, if he were to be in his position.

“… The things that… Bitch did to that poor kid…” he growled through gritted teeth. James patted his shoulder. “Come on, why don’t you go get a pack of smokes or somethin’ huh? Go…go catch the numbers, maybe today you’ll get it huh?” he tried to cheer the man up. “Yeah,” McMann said with a much too forced laugh, “I think will go and do that, maybe it is my day ya’ know?” James watched as the older cop walked briskly out of the building, trying to appear as though nothing was wrong but it was much too easy to tell he was troubled.

 James looked back at the door dreading going in. No matter what Keri said to him, he knew that he could never grow accustomed to seeing people in such a way. All battered and cut apart, it just wasn’t right; he was on the verge of throwing up, every time he entered a crime scene. The only thing that kept him from doing so was his devotion to his pride and to Keri, not wanting to embarrass either of them, but more so Keri.

“Kimble, get your ass in here!” he heard Keri yell through the apartment. He hinted a strange emotion in her voice he hadn’t heard before. He couldn’t quite make it out.

He rushed through the living room where there were blood stains on the carpet, along with other various objects, that were covered in blood as well, there were little yellow stands next to each that were numbered. He walked through the kitchen that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in months. There was a mountain of dishes in the sink, and the sink was filled with grimy black water, it resembled more of a swamp then, a kitchen. Mold grew on the dishes, there was a stinking heap of garbage in the corner, and the counters were caked with a strange sticky substance, the smell was horrid. James couldn’t help but think, ‘Child Services should have gotten this kid outta here a long time ago.’ He entered the bathroom, and stopped cold in his tracks. It was a horrible site, Keri stood off to the side with her arms crossed tightly around her body. She had a blank expression masked across her face, but it was her eyes that gave her away. James could tell she too was on the verge of tears, and she was pissed off. He had never seen her like this; sure he’d seen her angry, like when he stepped on a piece of evidence, or when he touched something at a crime scene without wearing gloves. But this was different.

“Observe and report.” She commanded in a cold voice.

James’ eyes scanned the room, once again, more thoroughly this time and noted.
‘Blood splatters all over the floor, walls, toilet, there were bloody hand prints on the counter of the sink, which were obviously adults. Small scratch marks from the door to the middle of the room. Looks like the boy tried to run and was caught and dragged back. He could see fragments of his finger nails. He noticed something that smelled like bleach, it was apparent that it wasn’t used for cleaning, so it must’ve been used for something else. On the counter there was a collection of grisly torture items, which appeared to be: untwined wire hangers, a hammer, rusty razorblades, a pair of shearing scissors, a lighter, a screw driver, and an ash tray with about a hundred cigarette butts inside’. The worst was yet to come. James pulled back the curtain to the bathtub.  Laid out in a heart-breaking fashion was the, unbelievably small body of the five year old boy.

He was broken and bruised, bloodied and disfigured. He was naked and lying in a pool of his own blood and urine. The boy had cuts over the entire length of his body; he had two cigarettes burned out in his eyes, which looked postpartum.  His right leg was broken in a horrible way, it had snapped completely to the right at the knee-cap. All of his fingers were either broken or cut off. He had cigarette burns in each of his eyes, and all over his face. It appeared his mother had tried to pour bleach down his throat, due to the chemical burns around the boy’s mouth. It seemed she had tried to cut out his tongue, but gave up halfway through, and left him with his tongue in half. The right side of his face was so swollen it looked like the boy had elephantitis. He had deep cuts on each sides of chest and his ribs were badly bruised.

From the amount of blood that was puddled around the boy, James assumed he died of blood loss.
As James was looking down on the boy, he was in complete shock, he had seen dead bodies of children before, but this was something different. The cruelty here was so potent; he couldn't fathom how a mother could do this to her own child, he was nothing but a baby still. His death was obviously slow and painful; she took her time with him. She made sure he felt every little bit.
He reached down and touched the body with his hand.

“God damn it James!” Keri exploded, “how many times do I have to tell you to wear fucking gloves if you’re going to touch something!”

She continued as she pulled a pair of latex gloves out of her jacket pocket, and threw them to James.
“You’re gonna ruin the damn crime scene.”

“Sorry.” He mumbled, he had touched the body to see if it was still warm.

‘When was the time of death?” He asked Keri in a broken voice. She stared at the body then and said.
“Suspected to be 3:20 A.M., neighbors reported seeing the two arrive roughly at 4:30 P.M. yesterday.”
James stood up and stared at the body of the tiny child. He tried to imagine the fear the boy must’ve felt the anguish and the pain. He stood there, over the body, obsessed with how he thought the boy felt. James started to put himself in the boys shoes, began thinking of his own mother, she torturing him. He begs her to stop, but she just makes it worse.

He had to stop, for a single tear drop welled in his eye, it rolled down his cheek, and broke off from his skin, made its way down, and crashed onto the little boys half-tongue. He couldn't stop himself from shedding more looking at the boy, all of them crash landing like airplanes on the boys face. Keri came up to him and grabbed his hand and spoke softer to him than she had ever spoken to anyone, “Come on James, let’s go get some air, come on.” He stood there trembling with rage, and empathy. Keri clasped his face into her hands and turned his face to hers, to look directly in his eyes. “James, let’s go.” She said.

He looked deep into her eyes and could see she couldn’t hold out too much longer herself.
“Yeah, ok… lets go.” James said in a gruff voice as he wiped the tears away from his eyes.  Keri led James out of the apartment passed the camera crews and the passer-bys, and she led him back to their car.

“Where are we going?” James asked with, what seemed like to Keri, a strange child-like innocence.

“We’re going to Headquarters,” she answered slowly, “It’s time we interview our suspect.”