Mystery

99 AE

Lucerana

Prevailia

Alexander Bloodworth

Mystery

 

                This has been one hell of a confusing day.  First there's this package from a father I don’t know warning about an ominous future.  Then there's this arson case Murphy Patterson assigns me to.  Murphy Patterson!  The man in charge of the freaking country!  I didn’t even realize Alicia and I were on his radar.  I have a feeling this is going to get messy. 

                I’m in the garage now.  I find my car and hop in, pull out of my space and into the street.  I should call Alicia.  I take the phone out of my pocket, speed dial 1.  Buzzing.  I hope she’s feeling better. 

                “That didn’t take long, we have a case?”  Alicia sounds like she’s calmed down a bit, but over the phone I can’t exactly be sure.

                “It’s like a case within a case at this point,” I answer.  Part of the mystery is ‘why us?’

                “Do you need me to come in?” she asks sounding concerned.

                “I don’t think it’s necessary.  It would help if you could start some research.  We’re going to be far out of our comfort zone on this one.”

                “What could be out of our comfort zone?  Are you talking demented killer or something?  We’ve seen a few of those.”

                “Try arson,” I answer, “The PRD research facility across town burned down, and they don’t think it’s accidental.”  There is a pause on the other line.

                “Edwards knows we’re not in the arson unit, right?” she asks.  The confusion is clear in her voice.  “We don’t know the first thing about arson.”

                “It wasn’t his decision,” I begin, “He was asked to assign us to the case by two people.  One is this Dr. Devivo guy.  He’s the guy in charge of the facility.  Said he didn’t want anyone but us on the case.”

                “And who’s the other one?” asks Alicia.  She knows this Devivo guy’s recommendation isn’t enough to make Edwards assign us to an arson case.

                “Murphy Patterson,” I reply.  Again, a pause.

                “You better not be pulling my leg,” she says, “Why would the Prevailian Chairman want to screw with police protocol?”

                “My guess is since a Decorian building burned down, that makes it an international event,” I reply.

                “So he’d want it taken care of quickly, but why put two detectives that know nothing about arson on an arson case?” she presses on. 

                “Seems we’re more famous than we intend to be,” I speculate, “People seem to have the idea we’re a Sherlock Holmes duo.  Frankly, we’re not.”

                “I don’t suppose there’s much we can do about it though.” says Alicia.

                “There is.  We can solve it, just like every other case we’ve received,” I state.

                “So I guess I’m going to research everything I can on arson?” Alicia asks.

                “That’s a good idea, but also look up groups or people that might have a motive.  I have a feeling this is political as opposed to personal, otherwise the state wouldn’t be involved.”

                “Good, well, you go to the site and figure out what you can, I’ll call you with any important information I can dig up.”

                “This has been an interesting day so far.”

                “You’re telling me.”  My phone clicks, signaling the end of the call.  I’d say she’s still not happy.  Either that, or she’s speculating now too.  That’s not good.  If I’m paranoid, I’d prefer her not to be.  It will cloud our judgment which won’t end well for the case.

                I’ve just reached the site of the fire.  Guess I was on the phone longer than I realized.  The street immediately in front of the burnt down facility is blocked off.  A crowd of onlookers tries to get a glance at what’s going on, as a cop holds the line on the other side of the barricade.  He notices I drive a police vehicle.  He motions the onlookers out of the way and retracts the barrier so I can drive through.  Once inside, the cop closes the barricade again and resumes his post.  I park the car next to another squad car and exit my vehicle. 

                “It’s about time you showed up,” says an officer walking up to meet me.  I know him.  Christopher Delgadillo.  Not the brightest cop, but he has heart.  “Detective Bloodworth.  Where is your sister?”

                “She’s at home figuring out how to investigate an arson case,” I reply, “I assume you are first responding officer?”

                “Yup, that’s me.  Got here as the fires started.  Been here since the Lucerana FD stopped the fire there,” he says motioning over to smoldering pile of rubble.  It must have once been a proud institution of scientific advancement. 

                “What can you tell me about the case so far?” I ask, walking towards the charred remains.

                “Well, the building burnt down and they’re calling it arson,” he replies.

                Really?  Delgadillo, as I’ve said, is not the brightest cop, but I keep my sentiments to myself.  “No Chris, I mean things like body count, witnesses, your recount of what happened when you got here-“

                “Oh, I got that stuff right here,” says Delgadillo as he starts fumbling for his note pad.  I grab mine from my coat pocket and flip it open to take notes.  This was a large complex.  Either a lot of people, or a lot of machinery.  Lots of damage no matter how you look at it. 

                “Here we go,” announces Delgadillo flipping through his note pad, “I was on patrol on Parks Street at around 6:50 this morning when I heard a window breaking.  I turned the corner to Cherry Street and I notice the broken window on this building.  The flames just about made it to the window at that point, so I call in to dispatch, and they alert the LFD.  It was exactly 6:56 when the first of the trucks arrived, but by then, most of the place burned down.  I helped escort five people out.  Those are the only five survivors we know of.  The rest of the staff didn’t make it.  The body count is up to 23.”

                That’s interesting.  It’s a pretty big facility, and only twenty-eight people on staff?  It might be because of the early morning time frame.   Regardless I take note of it.  We walk through a cleared path in the debris but now come up to a fireman blocking the path forward.

                “It’s not safe to go any further,” says the fireman, “The debris is too hot still, and it’s over a collapsed basement so it’s unstable.”

                “Would you know who to talk to about the details of this fire?” I ask, lowering my note pad for a second.

                “You can talk to me,” says the fireman, “I’m Fire Marshal, Tom Hopper, LFD”

                “Detective Bloodworth, LPD,” I state, extending my hand.

                “I’ve heard about you,” mentions the Hopper, “You and your sister were the ones who solved that Blue Rose Killer case a while back.”

                “That was us,” I respond, “But that was a homicide case, this is an arson case, or so I hear.  I’m not too familiar with arson.  It’s not my area of expertise.  What can you help me with?”

                “Well, that’s the thing.  This whole case is a tower built of impossibilities,” begins Hopper, “The first is that the place burnt down so quickly.  Problem is, this place was equipped with the most state of the art fire prevention system I’ve ever seen.  The Decorian’s say the risk of chemical fires is high here.  When contractors ask me for advice on fire prevention systems, I used to point here for a shining example.  Won’t do me any good now.  The PRD wanted to protect what was going on in there.  The system was designed to isolate, de-oxygenate, and extinguish the fires before they caused any damage.  From an accidental fire, the building should have suffered minimal damage.  Hell from a planned fire, it should have suffered minimal damage.”

                I record the notes as he gives me details.  I’m starting to put things together.  “So, and this is just my speculation, tell me if I’m wrong, but it sounds like this fire prevention system didn’t go off,” I conclude.

                “That appears to be so,” says Hopper, “We don’t have evidence that anything was done to fight the inferno before we got here.  Actually, we have a giant smoldering pile of evidence proving nothing was done.”

                That may suggest it was an inside job.  Let’s not jump to conclusions now.  It’s just a possibility.  “What can you tell me about how the fire started?” I ask. 

                “That’s another puzzling piece of information.  The fire started in multiple locations all at once, or at least close enough together to make it indistinguishable,” answers Hopper. 

                There seems to be a load of puzzling things about this case.  This seems like an elaborate scheme.  “So maybe it was a vast array of incendiary devices, planted and detonated simultaneously?” I ask.

                “It would seem plausible.  But incendiary bombs, from napalm to Molotov cocktails use an accelerant to spread the flames.  We haven’t found any evidence of any accelerant anywhere so far,” explains Hopper, “Not only have I never seen this before, I don’t know how it’s even possible.”

                “Interesting,” I mutter, jotting down the last of my notes.  This is puzzling.  A building burns down that shouldn’t burn, by a method that doesn’t seem possible.  There’s something missing here.  I need to see the bigger picture.  Wait, that might work.  “Hopper, do you think we could get a map or blueprint of this building and mark where the fire, or fires, started?”

                “Already ahead of you,” proclaims Hopper, “I have one of my men compiling the data.  You’re pretty quick on your feet for someone who’s never worked with arson before.”

                “Thinking’s always been one of my strong points,” I mention.

                “It’s over here by the trucks,” says Hopper, “It should finish soon.  Follow me this way.”  Hopper turns and walks towards where all the fire trucks and ambulances are parked.  It is easy to see the scope of the destruction here.  One of the ambulances has its back doors open.  It appears to be giving aid to the few people who survived the fire.  Another ambulance appears to be tending to those who didn’t survive, a row of corpses covered in white sheets.  Eerie.  This is the highest body count I’ve ever experienced on a case. 

                We walk towards one of the fire trucks, where I assume the data is being processed.  When we pass by the group of survivors receiving medical attention, a man stops us.

                “Detective Bloodworth?” he asks walking up to me.  He is an older man, gray hair and glasses.  He has this eerie sense of wisdom about him.  I say eerie because it’s questionable to tell if it would be wisdom used for good or evil.  Something about him makes me uneasy. 

                “That’s me,” I say, turning to face him.

                “Dr. Brutus Devivo,” he says extending a hand and introducing himself, “I was the head researcher and administrator here at Decorian Tech.”

                “I’ve heard your name thrown around a bit this morning,” I mention, grasping his hand and shaking it.

                “If you don’t mind, there are some things I would like to talk to you about concerning the investigation,” he suggests.

                I turn to Hopper.  “I can go fetch the data,” he offers, understanding that Dr. Devivo is a primary witness. 

                “Thanks,” I tell Hopper as he runs off to grab the data.  I turn back to Devivo and flip open my note pad, “So what is it you wanted to tell me?”

                “Well detective, it occurs to me this is a case of arson,” Devivo begins, “It also occurs to me whoever wished to burn down my facility went to great lengths to accomplish it.”

                “That much is clear,” I add jotting it all down, “Do you as administrator know anyone who would have a motive to burn this place to the ground?”

                “There are many people, groups, entities that might find satisfaction or the necessity to burn it to the ground.  Human rights activists, anti- Decorian Demonstrators, it could be anyone.  Yet I feel that the arsonists, whoever they are, were looking to destroy this,” explains Devivo holding up a flash drive.

                “And that is?” I ask.

                “The combined research of this facility,” replies Devivo, “Every night it backs up on this flash drive in my office and to a secure location back in Decoria.  I was lucky to be in my office when the fire started so I was able to save this copy.”

                “But if they were looking to destroy the research, why aren’t you ruling out human rights activists and anti- Decorian protesters?” I ask, “It sounds much more like the motives of a competitor?”

                “You don’t know much about Decoria, do you,” Devivo gloats, “In the People’s Republic of Decorum, there is no competition.  The state runs everything.  That means the only competition we have is other countries.  The only reason this facility is here in Prevailia is diplomatic reasons.  We can give your high ranking government officials tours of the facility and show off what Decoria has to offer.”

                “So you’re saying this was less of an attack on the individual facility, and more of an attack on the entire country of Decoria?” I ask.  This sounds way over my head.  This event will go from a minor to a major international disturbance if this guy has any say in the Decorian government.  I’m hoping he doesn’t. 

                “In a round-about way, yes,” Devivo answers, “And I might not be the only one who thinks that.”

                “Is it at all possible that someone working for you had reason to burn down the facility?” I ask, hoping something less than an international event is possible.

                “Not at all possible,” replies Devivo, “To work here, everyone has to agree that if anything is to happen to this facility, they are never allowed back into Decoria.  It is a standard policy.  Everyone eats, sleeps, and works in the facility.  We keep Decoria in Decoria, if that makes it easier for you.  Everyone who worked here was a Decorian citizen.  Was.  They knew the consequences if the facility was destroyed.  Now they are on their own, exiled from Decoria.  I suppose someone could have gone crazy, but then you have to look at the details of how the place burned down.  In no way this could be the work of one individual, let alone a crazy individual.  This was planned and carried out expertly by a group.  Not one of my researchers.”

                He seems staunch in that assumption.  I can’t rule it out yet.  “One more question then,” I begin, “It seems the Chief of Police has informed me that you requested my sister and I were assigned here.  Why?  We’ve never had an arson case.”

                Devivo lets out a small sigh, “If my facility had not burned down I could show you, but alas, we can’t change the past.  Late last night I received a letter.  I didn’t read it until this morning, and now I regret the hesitation, but it warned about an attack on this facility.  Of course, by the time I had read that, half of the facility was already engulfed in flames.”

                This is a huge lead.  Why didn’t he tell me this sooner?  “That’s startling evidence,” I say, “But how does that relate back to me?  Who was-“ I pause for a second.  Something just occurred to me.  There are few ways a letter could bring me here.  “Who sent the letter?” I ask, with more hesitation, and yet, more curiosity as well.

                “Oh, but that’s the reason I asked for you to be on the case,” Devivo answers, “The letter came from an old colleague and friend of mine.  I believe he is now the CEO of a certain Polemos Corporation here in Prevailia.  His name is Jerry D. Bloodworth, and I believe he is your father.”

                For a moment, I am at a loss for words.  This whole situation feels manipulated by someone way above my head.  I feel like a pawn.  I don’t like that feeling.  But I need to regain my composure.  I have a job to do.  This is my duty.  “So you decide that it’s better to have a detective with a personal connection to the case, on the case?” I ask.  If Edwards had known this, I would not be here right now. 

                “Making this personal might be a necessary sacrifice,” Devivo replies, “I understand that your father is a hard man to reach.  So much so that even Prevailian law enforcement lacks the authority to question him.  This morning was the first I had heard from him in over twenty-four years, in fact.  You and your sister have that personal connection to a chief witness and, possibly even, prime suspect to this case.”

                Prime suspect?  Possible, I guess, but that would make it harder to solve this case at least for personal reasons.  “Unfortunately I have never met my own father,” I state.

                “That is unfortunate,” says Devivo, “Your father is a good man.  If you seek him out, he will speak with you.  I’m sure of it.”

                “What is my father like?” I ask.  Devivo says he knows my father, or at least knew my father.  It seems likely that over the course of this case, I might meet my father for the first time.  Curiosity has the best of me.  If this wasn’t such a personal case, it wouldn’t. 

                “He is the most intelligent man I know,” Devivo answers, “He is motivated to complete his work.  Yet, when something relates to him personally, he lacks a spine.  This is perhaps why you have never met him.”

                Devivo seems to hold my father in high regard.  I wish I could take his word without hesitation.  Unfortunately, I have not met the man myself.  Judgments should be made when I meet him.  Until then, I must treat him as someone with connections to this case, someone who might be a suspect. 

                “Um, Detective Bloodworth, sir?” asks a man behind me.  I turn around to see Delgadillo standing there.  When did I lose track of him?  I’ve been so caught up in this case I didn’t even notice he was gone.  “Detective Bloodworth, the doctor person over there says there are some interesting details for you about the victims over there,” Delgadillo informs me. 

                Regardless of Delgadillio’s stumbling redundancy, I can’t turn down this lead.  I turn back to Devivo.  “I should go check this out,” I say. 

                “I wish to as well,” he states “After all, they were my staff.”

                “Fair enough,” I reply.

                “Alright, it’s just over here,” Delgadillo announces.  We follow him over to the ambulances.  Now I get to survey the despair with better detail.  There are around twenty bodies in a line.  That’s a shame.  Other bodies seem to be receiving some form of treatment, presumably forensic identification.  Most of the uncovered corpses are charred past recognition.   I hope there we have forensic guys here.  Anyone amongst the dead who shouldn’t be here would be a big clue.  “Here we are,” Delgadillo announces. 

                We are behind one of the ambulances.  The back doors are open and a body lies on a stretcher in front of us.  It is not as charred as the rest of the bodies I’ve seen.  There seems to be char marks only on the chest and the left ankle.  Peculiar.  It is a man, probably in his mid-thirties.  This should not be a hard body to identify. 

                “Ah, Detective Bloodworth,” says the man who was examining the body, “A pleasure to see you.”  I’ve dealt with him before.  He is Denis King, Prevailian City Coroner.  It makes sense that with the size of this case they would call him out into the field instead of keeping him cooped up in the morgue.  Anything he can accomplish out here will help reduce overflow in the morgue once all these bodies are moved. 

                “What do we got here?” I ask.  Denis wouldn’t have called me over here if this wasn’t relevant to the case.  Well, I mean, all the dead are relevant, but this one must have stood out. 

                “After examining all the bodies, I can conclude that most of them died from asphyxiation or immolation,” Denis states.

                “Most?” I ask, starting to take more notes. 

                “Most as in this man died of neither,” answers Denis, “The peculiar thing is this man was electrocuted.”

                “Electrocuted?” I question, “How so?”

                “Well you see the char marks on the victim’s chest?  That’s where the current entered.  It passed through his body leaving out his left foot, and thus creating a mess of his organs,” explains Denis.

                “Is it possible that in the chaos of the fire some wiring came loose and electrocuted him?” I ask.

                “That’s what I initially thought,” begins Denis, “But then I decided to estimate the time of death considering this body is in such good condition.  It seems that this man died an hour before the fire began.  It’s quite a miracle this man wasn’t burnt to a crisp or else we wouldn’t have known he was electrocuted.”

                This is something I can work with.  This sounds like a homicide.  “Is it possible that if someone hid this man somewhere, like in a closet or something, that it would protect him from the fire?” I ask.  Most people would try to get out of a burning building.  If the person or people responsible for killing this man are the same as those responsible for burning the facility down, then it would make sense for them to hide the body while they finish their mission. 

                “That’s likely,” answers Denis.  Excellent.  Now the question to ask is if they were aiming to kill this man and use the fire as a cover up, or if this man was just in their way.  Or both. 

                I turn to Dr. Devivo.  “Doctor,” I begin, “Do you know who this man is?”

                “Unfortunately I do not,” he admits, “I can tell you he does belong here though.”

                “My accounts tell me that you had twenty-eight people working in this facility including yourself,” I begin, “And as you stated, everyone lived inside the facility at all hours of the day.  You of all people should know who this man is, considering you were in-charge of what was going on here.”  I can’t help but sound accusatory.  This seems to be a major inconsistency.  How can the head of a facility housing twenty-eight people living in a close communal situation not know those working under him?  It doesn’t sound right.  If not game changing then at least note-worthy. 

                “I have not been in charge here long,” states Devivo, “I was assigned here less than a month ago.  Do not accuse my ignorance of conspiracy.”

                “If you were only moved here a month ago, what did you do before this?” I ask.  There is something about Devivo I just don’t like.  I can’t place my finger on it though.  Everything he says sounds condescending.  I can’t tell if that’s just because he’s the kind of person who thinks they know everything, or if he knows too much and is just trying to play the situation. 

                “Before this I was in charge of other PRD research facilities back in Decoria,” he answers, “my research there brought me here.  The facility here was better equipped for the project I was working on, so I re-located.”

                “What was the project you were working on?” I ask.  This act of arson could likely be in an attempt to destroy the facility’s research.  At least Devivo thinks that.  Knowing what the project is would definitely help narrow down potential suspects. 

                “That information is classified,” Devivo states.  No use prying any further, I guess.

                I still need to know who this man is though.  The four other survivors are close by, huddled in blankets next to a nearby ambulance.  They might be able to help.  I walk over to the group, pulling out my badge.  “Excuses me,” I state, “Detective Alexander Bloodworth, LPD.  I’ve been put in charge of this investigation.  Is anyone willing to help identify a body?”

                The survivors stare for a second and then avert their gazes.  This is awkward.  Will no one even answer me?  Then one of them stands up and drops their blanket on the ground.  “I can help,” she says.  She has the other survivor’s attention.  They stare at her with faces of bewilderment and fear, but they soon resume their stoic silence. 

                This girl, she’s about my own age, but in no way older.  Wait, how old am I?  Twenty-five?  That’s adult age right?  Why do I still view myself as a child?  I’m a full- fledged detective.  Have been for four years.  When did I grow up?

                “So, what am I doing again?” she asks, somewhat confused.  I’ve gotten lost in my own thoughts for a second.  How long was I standing there like that?  I must look like an idiot.

                “Oh, sorry, right over here,” I answer.  I swear I’m not this self-conscious all the time.  Yes, lost in my own thoughts, occasionally.  Thinking is one of my strong points.  But becoming aware that I forget my surroundings while I think and end up looking like an idiot, that’s not typical.  How many times has Alicia brought me back to reality with ‘Earth to Alex?’ Too many times to count.  Though the ‘Earth to’ expression is sort of out dated, considering there is no more Earth.  I’m on tangent again, got to get back to the case at hand. 

                “Here we are,” I state coming back to the electrocuted man, “Do you know who this is?”  Now that I notice it, she’s attractive.  I’ve always had a thing for blonds and- wait, I’m on the job.  That would be unprofessional.  Perhaps this is why I’m so distracted. 

                “I knew him,” she says, examining his face, “this is Ray Keiser.  He was in charge of security at the facility.”

                That doesn’t sound like a target of anyone.  But it does sound like an obstacle.  I think I see where this fits in.  Helpful information.  I write it down.  I’m glad she cooperated.  She’s pretty and has the sort of curves that makes a man…  Damn it.  I can’t seem to put her out of my mind.  She’s just, wow.  From her baby blue eyes to the interesting necklace around her neck.  Wait.  I didn’t see that before.  The necklace, it looks hand crafted.  Not expensive material.  I guess it shows off her artsy individualism, but in the center is a familiar glass orb, no larger than a marble.  Too familiar. 

                “That’s an interesting necklace,” I mention.  That glass orb, it’s the same as the three in the package we received this morning.  It has to be.  This is surreal. 

                “Oh this?” she asks, holding the pendant in her hands, “I made it myself.”

                This question has somehow sparked Devivo’s attention, who was discussing something with Denis.  He scrutinizes the girl and her necklace.  “Hmm, that is peculiar,” he states, “Why have I never seen that before?”  This something new.  Talking with Devivo, everything he’s said so far has been confident and all knowing.  The last few words out of his mouth sound surprised though, almost worried, but not quite.  It’s more of concern. 

                “I don’t try to show it off I guess,” she states, tucking the pendant into her lab coat.  Nervous laughter accompanies this.  Should I record this exchange?  This is interesting. 

                “Detective Bloodworth?” asks a new voice behind me.  That’s somewhat startling.  I didn’t even realize there was anyone behind me.  I turn around.  There is an incredibly tall man standing uncomfortably close to me.  I take a few steps back so he can fit in my view.  The tall man is wearing a suit.  I’m surprised they make suits for people that tall.  He stands stoic.  A scar runs down the left side of his face, though it’s almost hidden by his dark skin.  This is not someone I would want to mess with. 

                “That’s me,” I answer.

                “Detective Bloodworth, my employer would like to meet with you regarding this case,” he says.  For the appearance of a brute, his voice carries a sense of wisdom with it.  This is a man who has been through a lot. 

                “And your employer is….” I ask. 

                The man cracks a smile.  “I am employed by Christian Rexrode, president of the People’s Republic of Decorum.”

                I need to let that sink in for a second.  When did I become relevant to world leaders?  I don’t want to be in the middle of this.  I want to go back.  I don’t want to be important.  But somehow I’ve been pulled into this international mess, and I use the word mess lightly. 

                “Well I suppose whatever he has to say is important,” I say.  I am hesitant.  I just got reminded of how fragile this situation is.  It bothers me.  A lot.  But I guess there’s not much I can do about it, except what people expect me to do, which is to solve this case.  I look around.  Delgadillo is eating a donut.  Where did he get a donut?  Never mind that.  “Delgadillo,” I call out.  Somehow this startles him and he drops his donut. 

                “Yes sir?” he asks, scurrying over to me.

                “I need to go meet with world leaders,” I say.  Wow that sounded cheesy.  “I need you to finish a few things while I’m away.  The Fire Marshal was computing a bunch of data. When that’s done, get a copy, and then I want to interview all the survivors.  Round them up and bring them down to the station unless they need more intensive medical care.  Can you do that?”

                “Can do sir,” Delgadillo answers and shuffles off towards the fire trucks. 

                I turn back to the tower in a suit.  “I guess I’m following you now.  I didn’t get your name though.”

                “You can call me Moses,” he answers motioning to a limo that has pulled up behind all the ambulances.  The chauffeur is holds the door open. 

                “Well Moses, at least I get a limo ride out of all this,” I say.

                Moses cracks a tiny smirk, turns and makes his way towards the limo.  I follow.  I have a feeling this case will get more and more complicated as the day goes on.  

Reviews

[Kayja Symphious]

Don't you think I forgot about you!

No way would I want to miss this story. There's so much going on! Delgadillo made me laugh so much. "The doctor person." Ha! And where did he get that donut????!!! hahahaha

The women with the necklace is very intriguing indeed... It's obvious she's going to play a major roll in this.

All the technical details like the sprinkler system (I thought I was going to catch you on that... but no, you got it all covered ) to the dynamics of the case, have been thought out well.

This is a hell of a good read... and now Mosses is here! ooooooooooooooooooooh this is getting good.

Awesome story, EsdeeAyo. I can't wait to read the next chapter!