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by Shanks
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Detective · #2118207
Two detectives must work fast to catch a killer who is killing people marked on their list
Detective Vince Davidson watched from his car as a woman stood by the street with a little boy as they waited for the walk/don't walk sign to turn green. The light turned green and the woman and child crossed the street. The passenger door opened as Carter stepped in with a brown paper bag of food and two cups of coffee in a tray. He handed one cup to Vince and set his own into the cup holder before he opened the bag. Vince finished his cigarette and flicked it onto the road. Carter then handed him the bag before breaking out the creamer and sugar.

"Anything interesting happened?" he asked. Vince shook his head. "Not really. Quiet as always on a Monday."

"Naturally. But you can never tell when something will happen."

Vince took out his burger and began fumbling with the wrapper. "I wouldn't jinx it, if I were you."

"I'm not jinxing anything. For all I know, we could have a quiet peaceful day."

Just then, the radio barked. "All units, we have a 187 over on 18th Broad Street. Requesting homicide."

Vince put the burger down and picked up the mic. "10-4. We'll be there." He then placed the burger back into the bag and looked at Carter as he cranked the car. Carter shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe it was a coincidence." "You said a quiet peaceful day and we get a 187 report. You should go back to the doctor and get your head examined. Maybe a fine tune-up, just to be on the safe side." Carter curled his empty wrapper into a ball and threw it at Vince, hitting him in the head. "Smartass." he said, grinning. When they came to 18th Broad Street, there were cops already there, along with the mortician van. They stepped out of the car and walked over to the crime scene. A slightly bald man was lying on part of the asphalt and the sidewalk in a dried pool of blood, his throat slit opened.

Dan Franks, a local mortician, was in the process of getting fingerprint ID from the victim. After the scanner beeped, Dan looked at the screen. "Mr. Tim Crichton." he began, "A 32 year old man with a job as a hotel clerk. I'm guessing from looking at the dried blood, he died about 12 hours ago. Oh, and he has a bit of a record on him too." Vince looked at him. "Ok, what did he do time for?" Dan scrolled through the screen. "According to this, it was for some minor offenses; petty theft, resisting arrest, and disturbing the peace."

"And yet he still works as a hotel clerk." Carter remarked. "Well, it depends on which hotel he works at." Just as one of the other morticians began to bring out the stretcher, Carter knelt down next to the corpse, took out a pair of tweezers, and reached into the pocket. Vince looked at him as he slowly dragged a folded piece of paper out of the corpse's pocket. He then stood up and the two walked over to the car. As Carter unfolded the paper carefully, using the tweezers, they read a list of names written in blood and Tim's name was among three others crossed out. "Looks like we got a list of targeted victims and three, not counting Tim, have been crossed out." Vince said. Carter nodded before taking out a small kit. "We should look up the names of these three and find them. Right now, let's see if we can find some fingerprints." he said as he opened it. He began spreading a bit of black powder on the list, revealing small partial fingerprints.

Just as the corpse was taken to the morgue, Vince and Carter went to the station to get what they could get off of the fingerprints. Their forensic specialist, Sarah Flynn, came back with the reports on the fingerprints. "They weren't enough for me to get a full I.D. scan on them, so I did a cross-examination with existing fingerprints and I managed to get a hit. They belong to Wilbur Smitherland." Carter perked up at the mention of the name. Sarah pulled up a picture on the screen, showing a balding man with a grumpy expression on his face. Vince looked at Carter. "You know him?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I knew him a few years ago. He was a real nutcase, one of those extreme paranoid types. He's been behind bars several times for attacking random people, police included, while claiming that the government was brainwashing them. He was released a few times on pleads of insanity and he stayed at a mental facility so many times. Why he's been released again, we'll never know." Vince looked at the screen. "Well..." he began, "looks like we will get the chance to ask him." he then looked at Sarah. "Do you know where he resides?" Sarah shook her head. "I will do a search for his current residence." "Good luck. He's a slippery little bastard. He never put his address on anything, not even for mail. If you wanted to catch him, you have to find him on the streets." Carter said.

The detectives left for the morgue. Dan had already removed the organs from Tim's body when they entered. He looked up as he placed the heart in the pan. "Ah, gentlemen. What kind I help you with?" "You can start with what killed the vic, doc." Carter said. Dan put his glasses and gloves on before examining the body. "Well, obviously his throat was slit, but from close observations, it was a slow cut. Looking at these small ridges in the cut, it's likely he used a serrated knife, I'd say either a kitchen knife or a military knife as my best guess. I found little metal chippings embedded in his neck, close to the esophagus, possibly from the knife. I guess the blade was slightly dull due to a bit of rust on one of the chippings. I already sent them to forensics for scanning. The results should be coming in shortly."

As the detectives were leaving the station, a police officer spoke to them as he got off the radio. "Three more victims were found. They're being brought in now." Vince acknowledged it and they left. "We need to hurry if we're going to catch this killer. Time's running out." Throughout the day, they questioned people that knew the victims and only two of them mentioned Wilbur. "What can you tell me about Wilbur?" Carter asked Jerry Bell, one of the witnesses that mentioned Wilbur. "I was at a bar last night, Robin's Nest, when Wilbur came in. He was yelling about how the government was brainwashing folks and that anyone who tries to resist will die. He screamed out his name before he tried to run out."

Vince looked up from his notebook he was scribbling in. "I'm sorry. Tried to run out?"

"Yes. One of the patrons got into a confrontation with him about it and just when the patron grabbed Wilbur, he attacked him. When one of the bouncers went to deal with them, Wilbur took out a knife and tried to use it. He claimed the knife wasn't his and he finally ran out into the night. That was the last we ever saw of him."

"What did the patron look like?" Carter asked. "He looked a bit bald, but he also looked to be in his early thirties." Vince scribbled down his notebook again and looked at Carter, nodding. "And what of the knife? What did it look like?" Jerry scratched his head. "Some sort of kitchen knife, maybe a filet knife. All I know is that it looked serrated and a bit rusty." Vince scribbled in his notebook before he closed it and gave a slight nod to Jerry. "Thank you for your cooperation." he said and Jerry left. "Looks like Tim had a little fiasco with Wilbur." Vince said to Carter as they got back into the car. "You think that Wilbur might have killed him?" Vince shrugged his shoulders. "Could be but we won't know until we find out."

As they continued down the streets, Carter shook his head and chuckled. "What is it?" Vince asked. "It's funny. When Wilbur attacked a police officer, he claimed that he wasn't attacking the officer, he was trying to open the officer's eyes to the truth and he's holding a knife that is possibly the murder weapon and claiming it's not his." Just then, Vince's cell phone rang. Vince answered as he drove. "Go ahead." he said.

Sarah's voice spoke in. "I just found Wilbur. He's staying in a cabin just out of town, using a credit card." "Where's the cabin?" Vince asked. He heard the tapping sounds on the phone. "Zooming in on location... Got it. West off your area, just off Highway 220." Vince hanged up the phone and shifted gears before flooring it. "Found our friend." he said. "Let's give him a hello then." Carter said. When they arrived at the cabin, they stared at the rotten wood and the slightly caved-in roof.They stepped out of the car and walked up to the porch, Carter taking out the evidence bag that carried the list. Vince knocked on the door.

"Mr. Smitherland? This is the police. We're here to ask a few questions." They heard a clutter inside before Wilbur's voice spoke through. "Come on in, officers." The detectives looked at each other. They entered the house and saw that it was very messy. "Mr. Smitherland, we want to ask you a few questions regarding a couple of murders that occurred last night and--" Vince began before Wilbur jumped out and struck him in the stomach with a baseball bat. Wilbur then lunged at Carter with the bat screaming maniacally before Carter caught the bat. He let go of the bat and jumped away from Carter, taking out a rusty serrated knife, caked in dried blood.

"The government sent you for me, didn't they? Well, YOU'RE NOT GONNA TAKE ME AWAY, YOU BASTARDS!" he screamed as he lunged at Carter, tackling him onto the floor. They scuffled and rolled over, struggling over the knife. When Wilbur rolled on top of Carter, he struck the detective across the forehead and wrenched the knife free. Just as he prepared to stab Carter, a gunshot was heard and Wilbur's left eye exploded and he slumped over the detective. Carter looked to see Vince standing there, with a gun in his hand. He helped Carter up.

"You weren't kidding about him being delusional." he said. Carter brushed his hands on his pants, not saying a word. Vince turned to look at the mess, his back towards Carter. "I think we can close the case now and--" Suddenly, he felt something press against his throat and slide across, tearing bits of flesh and tissue away. Choking on his own blood, Vince fell onto the floor clutching his throat. He looked to see who did it and saw Carter standing there with the knife in one hand and the evidence bag in the other. "Sorry, Vince," he said to the dying detective, "but I'm not going to risk being discovered." He walked out of the house and came back in moments later with a gasoline can.

"Gotta love the paranoid people." he said as he poured gasoline onto Vince's body among other things. He took out Vince's lighter, walked to the doorway, flicked the lighter, and tossed it onto Vince's body, igniting it along with everything else. Carter stood at the car, watching the house burn away everything inside, before he took out the evidence bag and removed the list. He took out a pen and scribbled out Wilbur's name before he walked away. "Now I wonder who's next on the list..." he said to himself.
© Copyright 2017 Shanks (shanks24 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2118207-The-List