Night Slashers: An Agnes McCall Mystery, page 1
NIGHT SLASHERS
A Novel
By Rashad Freeman
Copyright © 2012 by Rashad Freeman
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be used reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the expressed written consent of the author.
Acknowledgements
I’d like to thank everyone, especially my readers for waiting so patiently for me to finally finish this novel. After multiple missed dates and broken promises, Night Slashers is finally here. I hope it lives up to my aspirations and your expectations. If it doesn’t, please pretend like it did.
“Pain is the night, that necessary evil that reminds us tomorrow will come.”
IN THE DARK
Cold, stagnant air filled Daniel Montague’s lungs. The chill of the December wind batted at his face. In front of him lay the raging waters of the Mississippi River. The thundering rapids threatened to erase his existence. Behind him, the glow of blue and red lights danced a malevolent ballet across the moonless sky.
The sound of sirens had all but disappeared. Now, Daniel could clearly hear the insects and other creatures of the night. They scurried through the nearby underbrush and vanished from sight.
Daniel’s feet sank deeply into the thick, black, mud of the riverbank. His lips chapped from the cold air. The night came in and out of focus like a cloudy lens.
How could he have been so careless? Trust was something you could never earn, yet somehow…somehow he had let his guard down. His guard… it was the blanket that had kept him safe for so many years. It was the barrier against a raging world determined to do him harm.
His hands trembled as he brought them to his face, burying his head deep into his weathered palms. It wasn’t fear he felt though, he was far removed from that. Instead he was consumed by something else, something much darker. It was sinister, a sensation of complete enmity. A feeling that burned so deep inside until it was all that was left.
He knew better, damn it he knew better. And like his father always said, you fool me once shame on you, you fool me twice and I’ll kill you. But here he stood, here at the end of it all. And his only regret lay in the fact that for all his perfect planning, he’d overlooked something so blaringly obvious.
Not more than a year ago he first set foot on this same riverbank and continued to do so for many sleepless nights since. Funny that now this sacred place of thought would mark the end. He closed his eyes and envisioned how it all began. Slowly, the smell of damp earth and the cool touch of the night air started to fade. The flickering of lights vanished and he found himself staring at a clock.
12:00 a.m. Many have seen this numerical denomination countless times, but none were as intimate with it as Daniel. The little General Electric alarm clock signaled the start of a new day, but for Daniel there was no break where one ended and the other began.
Strange he thought, the emerald glow of the flashing numbers accented her red hair. The green, blinking light kept a metered pace with his hands. He reached out and stroked the ginger strands with his fingers, moving them out of her face.
“Ah, that’s better,” he mumbled.
The night was still except for cats fighting in the alley, but in that room the spirit of New Orleans came to life. Daniel had to move fast. He worked his instruments like a magician, taking hold of her tattered flesh. She was a bleeder, he looked at his crimson colored gloves and sighed.
Her body was lifeless on the table. She was devoid of any expression or knowledge of what had been done to her. She was a blank canvas, a clean slate that Daniel had molded and perfected.
Daniel grinned, marveling at his work and relishing the masterpiece he had created. He stepped away and gazed at her with a weary sense of fulfillment. Yawning, he blinked his eyes, but they remained closed a bit too long.
He could feel himself slowly drifting away. A wave of exhaustion crashed over him like a tsunami. He staggered, barely catching himself before he fell to the ground.
Suddenly, the door burst open and a stubby, fat man waddled in. His glasses were askew and his dirty, blond hair was ruffled and thinning. His nose was narrow and long and when combined with his greasy hair, made for a weasel-like appearance.
“One hell of a job Daniel! Those are some nice ones!” Victor elated, while burying the remainder of his ham sandwich into the cavernous hole the rest of us know as a mouth.
Daniel snapped awake, opening his eyes to the burning lights of the operating room. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep. He wasn’t even sure where he was and it took him a minute to come back to his senses.
“Time to wake her up,” Victor jolted. He eagerly prodded at the unconscious woman’s breast with his index finger.
Daniel stared off into nothing, still unaware of what was going on. He blinked rapidly and shook his head trying to shake the cobwebs.
“Danny, are you with me?” Victor asked and snapped at him.
“Yeah…yeah. Just a little tired.” Daniel cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders.
After hours plastic surgery had become all the rage in New Orleans. It was an ideal option for those who sought more discretion. It also seemed to be the perfect business for an anal-retentive, former combat soldier suffering from sleep insomnia.
Daniel opened his practice nearly ten years ago and raked in huge profits ever since. Victor, his partner in crime since high school, joined him five years ago. He was an excellent surgeon, but his vice of groping patients made him an eager candidate for what the industry affectionately called “night slashers.”
When he wasn’t in surgery, Daniel would sit and watch the digital numbers of his General Electric alarm clock mold into one another. It seemed to be the only thing that helped him deal with the insomnia. His life was a constant struggle between reality and dreams, one bleeding into the next until he couldn’t tell whether he was asleep or awake.
“You can lie down now sweetie,” Jackie said politely. The resident nurse excused herself and headed back into the lobby. She was a feisty, silver-haired grandmother and the one sole employee tasked with keeping Victor out of bed with customers. Barbara, the receptionist, had previously held the responsibility, but she was out with a broken ankle.
“See you in a few Jackie,” Victor said, then turned back to the patient.
The pretty redhead who now sported brand new D cups laid back onto the bed, her head still spinning from the anesthesia. She raised her arm to rub her eyes, but the searing pain that accompanied any movement put an abrupt stop to that idea. Sighing, she looked up and found Victor gazing down on her with an awkward grin on his face.
“If you don’t get tips with these Meg, they need to set that shithole on fire,” Victor jabbed.
“Do you really need to hold them like that?” Meg asked as she peered at Victor with raised eyebrows.
“Oh yes. I have to make sure they set correctly, you don’t want them uneven. Dr. Montague didn’t explain that to you?” Victor retorted, his hands still fondling her sore and swollen breasts.
Daniel shook his head and stared away. The price you pay, he thought. Victor’s five hundred thousand dollar investment allowed him to expand the office and take on more clients. It also reduced his workload, but Victor’s increasing desire to feel up every patient kept Daniel very uneasy.
“Victor, I think we’re good here,” Daniel interrupted.
Victor shot him a look then removed his hands from Meg’s breasts. He gave her a devilish wink then bit his bottom lip and made a low grunting sound.
“Yep Meg all is well, you can go ahead and cover up. Jackie will be back to bandage you and give the aftercare instructions,” Daniel said. He glared at Victor then walked out of the operating room.
Victor lingered for a moment. He was still smiling at Meg, eyeing her up and down without a hint of discretion. It wasn’t until Jackie barged back in, carrying wraps and gauze, that Victor took his cue to exit.
“I’ll be handling the follow-up next week,” Victor whispered to Jackie as he passed her.
Jackie sneered at him and waved her hand. Turning around, she carefully sat Meg up then began to wrap her torso in Ace bandages. After that, she opened up a pamphlet and went over the intensive list of post-op instructions.
“You’ll have a follow-up visit tomorrow and then first thing next week. Who will be picking you up tonight?” Jackie asked.
“Um, excuse me. We normally don’t do this, but I can take you home if you’d like,” Victor said. He poked his head back into the room and grinned.
He gazed at Meg from the door. His beady eyes jittered back and forth with excitement. His mouth hung open like a bear trap.
My boyfriend should be in the lobby,” Meg said softly, wincing in pain.
“Yeah bonehead. Go water that damn Ficus,” Jackie stammered.
Victor stared for a moment longer, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Rolling his eyes he huffed then stormed off leaving Jackie to tend to Meg alone.
Moping down the hall, Victor made his way to Daniel’s office. As quietly as he could, he cracked the door open and peeked in. Daniel looked up then continued filing papers without saying a word. Sighing, Victor pushed the door open and walked in.
“Am I interrupting?” Victor asked as he swung a chair around and fell into it.
“You know Vic, you can be a serious pig sometimes,” Daniel rolled his eyes at him.
“Most times,” Victor snorted. “Look, if we make them they’re partly ours so we have every right to fully inspect our work. Meg’s gonna let me jiggle those fun bags, she just doesn’t know it yet.”
“Is this before or after the lawsuit?”
”She paid for a premium product. I’m just providing good customer service,” he giggled.
Victor could draw a parallel to good customer service with anything he did, like when he was caught cheating on his wife with her sister. At the divorce hearing he told the judge that it would’ve been cruel for him to deprive the rest of her family the service she so delightfully enjoyed.
“I’m heading to Whistling Joe’s for a drink. Wanna join me for a quick one or does the parole officer have your balls tonight?” Victor asked, twiddling a pen in between his fingers.
“Give me a break. You know I rule that house with an iron fist,” Daniel laughed as he shook his hand in the air. “Give me ten and I’ll meet you there.”
Victor smiled and then scurried out of the door like an overfed hamster that’d seen more food. Daniel continued to organize his office, quietly regretting going into business with Victor. Twenty minutes later he closed up his office and headed to the garage downstairs.
As he stepped off of the elevator, the sharp twinge of the bitter wind stung his face. It was a cold night in January, much colder than it should be. The air was so frozen that nothing seemed to move. Daniel had to resist the urge to turn tail and head back into the warmth of the building.
His office was located in a dilapidated part of New Orleans. The garage, which sat far below sea level, had a severely weathered look. The walls were ragged and stained green with algae from the last flood. There was a strong smell of musk in the air and if it weren’t for the Porsches and Mercedes in the garage, you’d think the place was condemned.
Daniel’s oxford shoes pierced the eerie silence of the garage as they echoed through the emptiness. A few of his more loyal customers, the rats that resided in the building, scurried off into the dark corners at the sound of his footsteps.
He moved purposefully, quick and methodical like everything else he did. Looking ahead to his car he grinned. The black BMW with license plates that read SLSHER was one of his most prized possessions. It was tucked into his favorite spot, away from any other vehicles in the back of the garage.
As he neared it, the overhead lights flickered. With an ominous crackling, they fizzled and started to dim. Another crackle and the garage fell into a blanket of darkness.
Daniel paused for a moment. He waited as his eyes adjusted. Walking through a pitch black garage was a normal occurrence; this part of New Orleans was always losing power.
Sighing, he slowly edged forward shuffling his feet as he went. A sudden chill ran up his spine and he stopped. Between the scuffling of his shoes he could hear someone breathing. It was faint, but someone was there, not far from where he stood.
Daniel strained his ears and the hairs on his arms stood on end. With a loud snap the light over his car popped on. Startled, Daniel jumped and took a step back. Looking up he gasped, but caught himself and regained his composure.
From the shadows behind his car a figure appeared and stopped near the rear door. It was a tall, thin man dressed in a gray business suit with a beige trench coat pulled over it. The man stood motionless, his face partially obscured by the dark, his hands tucked into his pockets.
Daniel straightened up and squinted as he tried to get a better look at the stranger. He was well dressed and had an air of confidence to his movements. Daniel leaned in, but his face remained cloaked by the shadows.
Abruptly, the man started to move towards Daniel and pulled his hands out of his pockets. Something shiny and metallic was clenched in between his fingers, but Daniel couldn’t make out what it was.
Taking another step back Daniel held his hands up and cleared his throat. The man suddenly lunged forward, almost at a run. He raised his hand overhead, the light bouncing from the gleaming object he held.
“Hey…hey!” Daniel screamed.
AN OLD FRIEND
“You pussy,” the man said as he burst into laughter.
He doubled over and put his hands on his knees. The light illuminated his face and Daniel started to grin.
“Tom, Tom Naph…get the fuck outta here!” Daniel said, taking a deep breath.
“Geez, when did you become such a girl Danny boy?” Tom asked as he ran a silver comb through his hair. “You almost shit yourself.”
“Yeah you fruity bastard, this ain’t the place you wanna make friends with a stranger. Jesus, you gave me a damn heart attack.”
Tom shook his head and chuckled. “I guess the rumors are true.”
“What fucking rumors?” Daniel cut his eyes.
“I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard it. Real awful shit they were saying about you,” Tom grinned.
“Yeah, you gonna let me hear it or do I have to beat it out of you?”
“Well…I heard through the grape vine that the bad ass sniper I once knew was giving strippers fake tits in the Big Easy. Judging from this shady garage and your odd hours, seems the talk is right.”
“Well shit, can’t spend my whole life hiding in bushes. I’m doing my civic duty,” Daniel laughed and patted Tom on the arm. “So, what brings you down here? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind the visit, but it’s been years.”
“Tracking you down wasn’t easy, you’re a hard man to find. I took this security gig that led me to Louisiana. Figured I’d see how far you’d fallen while I was at it.”
“Hmm, so you’re still trying to relive your glory days huh?” Daniel grinned.
“Hey don’t get mad at me if you aint got it no more. You know what they say? Those that can do and those that can’t...”
“Do surgery,” Daniel finished. “So, where ya staying?”
“Down the road at the Hilton. Hey, sorry about missing the wedding by the way. I was you know…off the grid.”
“Yeah, yeah don’t worry about it, kind of late for an apology. You can meet her tonight after the bar,” Daniel waved him off.
“The bar?”
“Yeah, I’m meeting Victor for a drink.”
“Victor!” Tom said in surprise. “How’s that fat fucker doing? You mean to tell me he’s a surgeon now?”
“Yeah, we’ve been at this gig together for maybe five years. He’s damn good but you know him. Give him a little power and he’ll try to stick his dick in everything that walks in the door.”
They both laughed.
“So Montague Medical huh? After-hours plastic surgery, what’s that all about?” Tom raised an eyebrow.
“You know, hookers don’t really work banker’s hours,” Daniel laughed. “Nah, just more convenient…more of a niche really, but it works.”
“I see. Well, let me run back to the hotel for a few and I’ll meet you at the bar. Then you can show me this cow you decided to marry.”
“Hey go easy now. She only eats grass on the weekends,” Daniel said. Smiling, he took a pen out of his bag and scribbled an address down, then handed it to Tom.
“Guess I’ll see you there,” Tom grinned. He stuffed the paper into his coat pocket then wrapped his arms around Daniel. Lifting him off of the ground he squeezed and gave him a bear hug.
“Calm down big guy,” Daniel grunted.
“Ha! Guess the married life has made you weak.” Tom said and set Daniel back down. “So I’ll see you in a few then.”
