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Authors: Tim Marquitz

Serial (6 page)

BOOK: Serial
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He slid the laptop aside on the couch, then reached over and snatched up the rough drawing he’d done. Isaac held it beside the laptop screen. Though the images weren’t exact, there was enough of a similarity to set his mind into motion.

Isaac read through Mendes’s file again in search of his affiliations. None of the tiny gangs he’d been a part of were anything more than a blip on the LAPD radar, but the name of the gang he was in a few years before he applied for the police department drew Isaac’s eye.
Demonios Pequeños
: Little Demons.

Isaac pulled up the gang-tag database and plugged in the group’s name. A half-dozen grainy images popped up of a little demon face in faded ink, guitar-string tattoos in dark flesh. Isaac scratched a few more lines onto his drawing and shook his head when he saw the resemblance.

Mendes had recognized the symbol on the girl’s corpse because he had it tattooed on his arm. It had been his gang’s symbol. He’d spotted it and said nothing.
Why?
Isaac set the laptop on the table and let out a deep sigh. There could only be a couple of reasons: Either Mendes knew who Bane was and wanted to stay out of it, or Mendes
was
Bane.

Isaac popped up straight in his seat. Mendes had only come to El Paso in the last month. That was why the captain had stuck him on the dead end Ripper case. He didn’t trust him, the guy having worked under Garcia when he was still a Lieutenant. Mendes had been stuck working with street patrol, but he couldn’t have been happy about that. All of a sudden Bane shows up and there’s a need for another active detective. It was a compelling coincidence.

Isaac picked up his laptop again and ran a quick search for similar killings in Los Angeles. He set the computer on the coffee table after spending thirty minutes drawing mostly blanks. There were far too many murders attached to demonic influences to track. Nothing appeared to stand out as related to the Bane murders, but there wouldn’t be if Mendes was smart. His little gang tat would likely stick out in LA far more there than it did here. If Isaac hadn’t lucked upon the tattoo in his personnel file, there would have been nothing to help put the pieces together.

He’d planned to sleep, to recover from the last few nights, but Isaac knew Bane would be plotting retaliation for being upstaged this morning. He might not make the kill tonight, but it was a fair bet he would be on the hunt. It was the perfect time to test his assumption.

Isaac hopped up and collected his things and went to the garage. He wheeled out in the Toyota. His gloved hands ached as he gripped the steering wheel. His teeth felt as though they might shatter from the pressure, his jaw clenched tight. If Mendes was Bane, there would be hell to pay before the night was over.

Chapter Fourteen

Isaac didn’t even have to work to find the detective. Mendes’s address was in his file. A few minutes after midnight, Isaac was parked down the street from a central El Paso rental home. Mendes’s plates had also been in the system. The Chrysler 300 matching the registration sat silent in the driveway. Lights burned in the back of the house, but the windows were covered with slatted blinds that neatly blocked the view from outside.

The neighborhood was quiet, with traffic limited mostly to the cruising youths whose stereo systems rattled Isaac in his seat. He shook his head at them as they drove by, noting the hour.
No respect.
As much as he’d like to pop out and wave his badge to scare the shit out them, Isaac just watched them roll past. He couldn’t afford to draw any attention, especially since he was staking out a fellow detective in a car he’d used to pick up victims. That wouldn’t go over well.

Shadows flickered against the blinds occasionally, but there wasn’t enough detail to tell what was going on inside. He didn’t figure any serial killer would be stupid enough to prep a body in the bedroom of his own house, but you could never be certain. A yawn stretched his face as he settled into the seat. It was getting late.

Two more hours passed as Isaac sat bored, jumping at every flicker of movement near the house. His bed called to him. Whatever Mendes was doing, he wasn’t sharing it with the outside world. Another yawn assailed him, and Isaac sat up and went to start the car, but a shaft of light peeking through the front door of Mendes’s house caught his eye.

The door popped open and the detective stepped out, shirtless, pushing the screen door aside. He was smiling. A young Hispanic woman came out after him as he held the door, his hand grazing her hip affectionately. Her giggled laugh fluttered through the night air. He let the screen slam shut as he followed her down the driveway, his hands active the entire way. She stayed just a step ahead of him, teasing, but never too far out of reach. The couple strode down the driveway to a Ford Explorer parked at the curb. The woman fumbled with her keys as Mendes closed on her, pressing his crotch against her ample ass. She managed to unlock the door and spun into his arms, the two kissing with fervor.

Even if Isaac hadn’t known Mendes was single, he would have known the woman wasn’t his wife. The kiss was too aggressive, too physical.
Was she Bane’s next victim?
Isaac wrote her license plate number down and a brief description of her and the vehicle, just in case, even though it didn’t make sense for him to prey on her, given she knew where he lived and had parked her vehicle right outside—too many potential witnesses.
Just a piece of ass.

Isaac waited for the two to break off their groping. When they did, the woman drove away as Mendes strolled back to the house, watching her go. After she turned the corner, the detective went back inside, but he didn’t close the door. A moment later, he came back out fully dressed, his gun and badge visible on his belt. He locked his door and hopped in his car. Isaac waited until Mendes started his vehicle, starting his at the same time.

Mendes wasted no time. He zipped out of the driveway and roared off in the Chrysler. Isaac waited a moment, and then followed. The neighborhood was fairly closed off from the surrounding streets, so he could afford to sit back a little. Too close on his heels and Mendes would spot him.

Isaac hung back and kept Mendes in sight, but the lack of traffic made tailing him difficult. The detective hopped on the highway as he wheeled his way toward the east side of town, but kept to the speed limit and stayed in the right-hand lane. The only time he shifted over was to pass a slower moving vehicle, but even then he used his turn signals. He was going out of his way to stay legal, and Isaac didn’t know if that was standard practice for the man or an effort to avoid attention. Whatever it was, it forced Isaac to shoot past him as he tried to use a speeding semi for cover. When Isaac slowed and got out from behind the big truck, Mendes was rolling down the off-ramp at the Zaragosa exit.

Isaac slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He growled and hopped into the far-right lane, but the next exit was two miles up the road. There were too many feeder streets to even take a guess at which way Mendes had gone. There was also a lot of desert nearby.

Despite the growth of the city and the push eastward, the area still had pockets of empty space between El Paso and its closest neighbor, Horizon City. Littered with strip clubs and low-rent bars, many of the residential areas were pushed into a circle around the area by zoning codes, leaving nothing but open fields or industrial lots. It was the perfect place to snatch a victim. The bar traffic having just let out, there would be plenty of opportunities, even with the public riled up and on their guard. There were also plenty of places to hide and wait. Isaac had lost Mendes.

Tired and angry that he’d let Mendes slip away, Isaac returned home. He needed sleep. There would be time. If he was right about Mendes, Isaac knew just the right woman to bring Bane out of hiding, and he’d be waiting.

Chapter Fifteen

Death came with the dawn.

Isaac set his phone aside and groaned as he sat up in bed. Bane had struck again. It wasn’t the over-the-top slaughter Isaac had expected, but it was all the more disturbing for its subtlety. Rather than paint the streets red with blood, Bane had gone a step further and struck at the heart of the city. He had killed the mayor and his family…in their home.

The captain’s furious voice still ringing in his ear, Isaac dragged himself into the shower, foregoing his morning coffee and his trip through the news channels. Garcia wanted him on scene immediately. Bane had already tipped off the networks, so there wasn’t any point in turning the TV on. It would only piss Isaac off.

A half hour later, he was on scene.

The streets cluttered with camera crews and reporters and dozens of people out for a show, Isaac was forced to park several blocks away and walk to the mayor’s house. He ducked his head and bulled through the crowd, ignoring the complaints and calls from the reporters. A quick flash of his badge and he slipped under the caution tape and made his way through the open wrought-iron gate that led to the driveway. It was barely less crowded there.

Forensic technicians and uniformed officers milled about the front yard and driveway, some working to keep folks from sneaking in, but most were simply waiting their turn to work.
Hurry up and wait.
No one could do anything until Isaac finished his part of the job. He wasn’t looking forward to it. Despite himself, he felt his cheeks burning. Mendes had given him the slip and now the mayor was dead. More telling, the mayor lived on the east side of town, a short distance from where Mendes had turned off.

It infuriated Isaac to think he had been so close to catching the detective in the act. Isaac hadn’t thought to return to Mendes’s home and stake it out the rest of the night, and that made him even madder. Had he taken the time to be thorough, and thought less about getting some sleep, he would have known for sure if Bane was Mendes. Now, there was still doubt, however slight.

Isaac looked to the front door where Captain Garcia was waving to him.

“Hurry up, Grant. We need to get this fucking scene cleared so we can get the bodies out of here.” Garcia looked exhausted. Blackness filled the deep crevices beneath his eyes and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in a week. “The maid found them this morning.”

“Cameras?”

Garcia shook his head. “The mayor didn’t want them installed.”

Isaac sighed and hurried up the front steps. He slipped past the captain without saying another word. Now was not the time to be anything but compliant. The mayor being killed was a serious blow to the credibility of the police department, and all of that fell on Garcia’s shoulders despite the mayor’s bad decisions.

Out of instinct, he took a second to examine the front of the house, but saw nothing out of place. As Isaac went through the door, he noticed the frame was intact. There was nothing to show it had been forced, and none of the front windows was broken or left open, so Bane probably entered through the back or side.

The smell of fresh death and feces hit him the second he stepped inside. He remembered to react offendedly, but all he could do was gape in awe at the carnage displayed just inside the large foyer.

Directly in front of him hung a young boy, the mayor’s son, not more than eight, still in his pajamas. His throat had been slit and his tongue pulled through the opening and used to tie him to the foot of his sister, who hung above him. Her throat had been slit the same way, her purple-and-black tongue draped about the foot of her mother who hung above in the human chain, followed by the mayor. His tongue was tied to the massive chandelier that loomed in the center of the vaulted ceiling.

Blood, shit and yellowed streaks of urine ran down the chain of bodies to collect in a thick pool on the white-tiled floor. Isaac marveled at the chain as he circled around it, wondering how the tongues withstood the weight of all the bodies. He found his answer a moment later, spying what appeared to be fishing line woven almost invisibly through the armpits of the victims. The line ran through each, strung up and attached to the beam the chandelier was attached to.

Isaac eased closer to the boy, remembering his name to be Kevin, and examined the start of the line. For all its ingeniousness, the hole punctured through the boy’s shoulder was clearly done in haste. There was no grace to it. It looked as though it had been made by an ice pick.

He stepped back to view the piece as a whole just as Garcia grunted alongside him. The captain wanted him to hurry, but Isaac had more to think about than just what had been done. There was a question of time that nagged at him.
Could Mendes have done this?
Despite appearances, it had been a rush job from what Isaac could tell.

The children were still dressed, with no signs of mutilation. And while the wife was naked, there was no evidence she’d suffered anything more than the wound at her throat and the humiliation of having her tongue tied to her husband. In her early forties, naturally attractive and clearly surgically enhanced, she likely slept in the nude. The mayor was the only one who bore any signs of mutilation.

Also naked, his chest had been marred with the now-familiar demon image, but it was blurred a bit by fresh blood. Bane
was
in a hurry. It wasn’t clean like the others. It was more like the first victim. There were signs he had rushed to get the job done and get out of the house before he was found. The signature toothpicks filled the mayor’s eye, though from where Isaac stood, it looked as if there weren’t quite as many as normal. He’d have to count them once the body was brought down.

“Anything?” Garcia asked, his voice raw with impatience.

BOOK: Serial
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ads

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