Fury From Hell (23 page)

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Authors: Rochelle Campbell

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Suspense, #Paranormal

BOOK: Fury From Hell
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“Firstly, she’s not a dyke.  Secondly, if you’re in jail you’ll probably lose your job anyway, right?  That messes up your clean record, doesn’t it?”  Jennifer pinned him with a hard stare.

He put a finger in his collar and swiveled it back and forth as he took in great gulps of air.  His eyes darted about and landed on the wall with an Andy Warhol painting adorning it.  He made sure that Jennifer saw where his eyes had landed and then answered. “Maybe so, but I still can’t take that chance.  I’ll have to go and speak with the Casino Management but it’s a Sunday night.  It’ll be tough rousting them from their various haunts.  I’ll see what I can do.  I’ll be back presently.”  With a final pointed glance at the Warhol he left the room in a hurry.  Jennifer waited for Betty to get back.

“Get anything out of him?”

“Yeah, something’s behind the Warhol over there.”

They walked over and took the painting down and found an unlocked safe.  Pulling the door open they found labeled DVDs.

“The security tapes?”

“Looks like!” Betty said, smiling as she rubbed her hands together.  Betty flicked through the discs and took the last three days’ worth.  She shoved them in the small of her back underneath her dark blue shirt.  They rushed to put the painting back when they heard footsteps coming down the hall.  By the time the doorknob turned they each had darted to opposite sides of the room pretending to inspect various books on the shelves.

Smythe cleared his throat to gain their attention.  “I’ve gotten hold of one of the casino managers and he said he’ll be here in thirty minutes.”  He peered anxiously at the Warhol and visibly relaxed when he noticed its angle.

Jennifer snuck a look and realized they had put it back slightly askew.  She threw him a wink and said, “You know, I like you Smythe with a “y.”  Why don’t we let this ride until we get that warrant?  Save your boss a trip and get you off the hook for being the bearer of bad news.”

Betty had snuck up on him while he was focused on Jennifer and spoke right into his ear.  “We’ll be back real soon, though.”

He jumped and put his hand over his heart closing his eyes.  Managing to still be civil to her he said through half-clenched teeth, “Thank you, Detectives.  I appreciate it.”  With his back ramrod straight, he extended his hand towards the door.  “Before you go, please stop by the concierge and he will give each of you complimentary VIP cards.  This way, when you’re next off-duty you can play on the house.”  With a tight smile, he waved them out.

Betty bowed low while snickering and backed out of the office.

Jennifer mouthed,
I’m sorry
to Smythe and followed her partner out forcing herself to keep a straight face until she, at least, left the room.

Jennifer was not successful.

***

Sunday, November 11
th
, 10:37 P.M.

“Right there!  See him?  He’s by the bar.  He gets up walks away and goes to a machine.  That’s the expensive-ass jogging suit and the infamous cufflinks.  Bingo.”

Yearwood and Clift peered at the monitor.  The veteran cop pushed his glasses atop his head and squinted.

“Yeah, that’s him all right.”  Clift jabbed a finger at the screen and nodded.  “Good work you two.  How did you get the recordings without a warrant?”  He eyed them curiously, a knowing glint in his eye.

“Sir, Feinster has a way with words,” muttered Jennifer trying to stifle a grin and failing.

Clift looked at the two female detectives for a moment and nodded again.  “So, I’ve been told.”  Turning back to the screen he wondered out loud, “So, what is this rich guy doing in a casino in Queens?  No ID.  No bodyguard.  No entourage of any kind.  He appears to be trying to fit in.”

“Or, go incognito?” Yearwood ventured.

“Pretty tough to do with those cufflinks on,” snorted Betty.

“Maybe for him, that’s paring down...?” Jennifer offered.

“Could be,” agreed Clift.  “When you’re that stinking rich, diamond cufflinks on a designer jogging suit with no other accessories?  Hell, that’s like being naked; probably.  So this is when?”

“Technically, this is early Saturday morning at 00:48 hours,” answered Yearwood reading the time off the screen.

“Saturday was the 10
th
, right?”

“Yes, sir.”  Jennifer said trying to become invisible.

“So, you’re saying he was alive early yesterday morning. Can we see if the casino has him leaving?  And, if so, when and with whom?”

“On it!” 

Yearwood elbowed Betty out of the way and began clicking away at the keyboard.  The images scrolled by in a blur.

“Sir?”

“Hmm, Holden?”

“What do you need me to do?  It seems unproductive for all four of us to work on this one aspect.”

“What angle do you want to work on?”

“The cufflinks.  Why would the killer leave them on the body?  Wouldn’t he or she take them?”

“If that’s the case, Holden, why wouldn’t they take the money?  The man had thousands of dollars on him.  So, why are you fixated on the cufflinks?  How will they lead us to the killer?  We’re dusting them, and the body, for any prints or particles that don’t belong to Rennkler.  Those actions will lead us to the killer.  Explain your logic.”

Jennifer’s mind went blank.  She just knew that the cufflinks were important but she didn’t know why.  She closed her eyes a moment and tried to will the information that she knew was locked in her brain somewhere.  But nothing came except a dull throbbing; the precursor of a stress headache.  She needed her coffee or a Red Bull quick.

“Holden?”

“Sorry, sir.  I guess —”

“Hey!  There’s a woman here.  She looks like a high-maintenance one and get a load of that rock on her finger.”

They crowded around the monitor and Jennifer stared at a woman who looked eerily familiar.  When she saw the yellow diamond she gasped. “Sir, the ring that woman is wearing!  I think the jeweler that set that stone is the same one that made the cufflinks — that jeweler may be able to tell us who that woman is getting us one step closer to some answers and, hopefully, the killer.”

Clift chewed on his lip while staring at the screen.  After a few long seconds, he nodded slowly.  “I see where you’re going with this.  You could be on to something.  You and Feinster get on that and check out all the jewelers that can and have handled this kind of high-end stuff.  Take a picture —”

“On it Clift.  I’m not a rookie,” Feinster grinned at the older cop.  He smiled back at her and shook his head.  “I forgot you were working with her.  You know, I’m just giving her the drill.”

“Yeah, you trained me well so I’ll return the favor and train her.”

He grunted before saying, “Dismissed — and don’t forget to run the woman’s picture through the database.”

“Thanks, Clift.  I won’t, and see you in the morning.  We’re going to work on this from home,” said Feinster.

“Okay,” said Yearwood, still pouring over the DVD. 

“Call if you find anything else,” said Clift rooting around his desk for a candy bar.

“Will do,” the female detectives said in unison as they left.

***

Sunday, November 11
th
, 11:17 P.M.

It had been hours since Moxie had dug up the Fury’s imprisonment globe.  The dog had fallen asleep with the half-chewed slobbery ball between her front paws.  Her doggie breath was clouding the surface of the sphere on the side that was still holding the Fury.  The Fury’s head was free but its body was still trapped.   The spell on the prison was very powerful and the Fury couldn’t release herself without more assistance from the dog.  The vapors released from the globe caused the canine to fall into a deep sleep.  The Fury bided its time but still tried to awaken the animal.

***

Sunday, November 11
th
, 11:20 P.M.

“You’re heading back to Bellerose?”

“No stupid, going to your place.  We’re basically on-duty until we solve this thing.”

“What about the Barnes case?”

“Backburner.”

“No!”

“Ah, yeah, it is.  This case is a direct mandate from
the Mayor
.  No way around this, kiddo.  If you do good on this case you’ll move up the ranks, fast.  You should be thanking me.”

Flopping back against the leather seats in the Acura, Jennifer grunted.

“That’ll do.  So, while we’re looking up jewelry stores we can see if Lady Ariella can come to your place and pull out those memories.  ‘Cause, it seems to me that you might have seen something at that casino.  Get her on the phone, will ya?”

Jennifer felt cold inside.  She didn’t want to think about what she had seen because that would lead to what she had done.  She wasn’t ready for that yet.  She dialed and heard the line ringing.  “Hi Lady Ariella, it’s me Jennifer Holden, Betty’s friend – uh Kamali’s – friend?”

“Of course Jennifer, dear.  I remember you.  We just met.  Stop being so formal.  What’s going on?”

“Betty wanted to know if you could meet us at my place in Brooklyn to…uhm…help me remember?”

“The sooner the better!  Where’s your place?”

Jennifer gave her the address and clicked off.

“She coming?”

“Yeah.  Where does she live?”

“Border of Queens and Brooklyn — the City Line area.  She should be by your place within the hour depending upon what she needs to bring.  Either way, we’ll see her soon.  We’ve got a bunch of research to do.  Glad I travel with my laptop.  You got Wi-Fi?”

Jennifer nodded and willed away the fluttering in her stomach. 
How could she be so callous about all of this?
  Worrying about her sanity and her job, Jennifer fidgeted in her seat and did something she was doing more and more of late — she fervently wished things would all turn out well.

***

Sunday, November 11
th
, 11:54 P.M.

They found twenty-two jewelers in all of New York City who handled high-end gemstones of the caliber that was on the mystery woman’s hand.  Feinster input the woman’s image and ran it through the system while sitting on Jennifer’s bejeweled couch.

“Just like I suspected — nada.  She’s never been nabbed before.  She’s too high-class for the likes of us.  But, maybe we’ll hit paydirt tomorrow.  Whatcha got to drink, Holden?”

Preoccupied with what was soon to come, Jennifer roused only when Betty prodded her with her foot and whistled.

“Hello?  Anyone there?  I’m thirsty.”

“Oh!  I’ve got Pepsi, Diet Ginger Ale, water, coffee and tea, of course.”

“Nothing stronger?”

“Um, only a bottle Paul Masson brandy.”

“I’ll take it on the rocks with a splash of Pepsi.”

Getting up, Jennifer walked into the kitchen and made the drink.  Drink in hand, she walked back to Betty a minute and a half later. “Won’t this make you…un-useful later on when Lady Ariella gets here?”

Taking a generous sip Betty shook her head.  “Not in the least.  This will relax me.  You’ll see.  Relaxation is key.”

Hearing that statement made Jennifer even more skittish. “I think I need a shower…”

“Oh, no, you don’t!  You’re not going to disappear and disengage on me now.  You’ve been through enough in the last forty-eight hours.  I know you can handle a sweet matronly woman.”

“Lady Ariella?  Matronly?  Ha!  She’s tougher than Indiana Jones.  Looks like she could be his older sister!”

Taking another sip of her drink, Betty grinned.  With a twinkle in her eye she replied, “I’m going to tell her you said that!”

The doorbell rang.  Jennifer looked over at Betty who motioned her towards the door.  Jennifer rubbed her palms against her jeans before getting up and doing as she was asked.

***

Moxie wanted a walk.  It was near midnight and her owner was fast asleep.  The dog got up leaving the half-eaten sphere alone for a bit.  It didn’t smell as delicious anymore.  Relieving herself, the dog trotted back and began licking the half of the globe that was still intact.  The Fury smiled.  The Earth Goddess’ magic was almost all gone. Abatu’s strength was back but the prison still had the Fury’s legs bound and therefore they were useless.  With a few more licks and chomps, the mangy dog would free the Fury.  Abatu decided to try and emulate the smell that had come from the globe hoping the dog would approve.

Within moments of the Fury infusing the air around the dog with a fake Earth Goddess smell, the dog went crazy licking and chomping.  The demon squealed with delight.  At any moment the Fury’s legs would be released and it would be able to fly straight back to the host and redouble its efforts to regain possession of its body — if it wasn’t too late. 

The Fury upped the smell’s wattage and the dog yelped and yipped in a frenzy of chomping and slobbering.

A quarter of an hour later the Fury was free!  Zipping away, Abatu headed for Brooklyn at its fastest speed.

***

Monday, November 12
th
, 12:03 A.M.

Lady Ariella and Betty were sitting with Jennifer on the couch.

“Uh…what are you guys gonna do to help keep that thing away from me?”

“Just relax, Jennifer.  No need for worry now.  The hard part is over; the Fury is not within you any longer.  Just rest,” Lady Ariella waved her hand in front of Jennifer’s eyes.  Jennifer swooned a bit and eased back into the High Priestess.

“Cool! She’s asleep?”

“Yes.”

“Can you teach me how to do that?”

“In time.  Focus Kamali.”

“Lady Ariella?  Think we should put her in the pentagram circle first and sprinkle salt around the outside perimeter?”

“For goodness sakes why?  The Fury’s locked away in an impenetrable prison in Bellerose,” chided the High Priestess gently.  “Besides, for what we must do this couch is quite comfortable.  Let’s get right to it and not waste any time.”

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