The Smell of Torture
"One, two, three, four tell me that you love me more! Five, six, seven, eight… My dear Dr. Howard what are the rest of the words?" my colleague Mr. Williams asked. He was a short, heavy-set man in his late fifties.
"Mr. Williams, the world is blessed with the knowledge that you do not know the rest of the words to your song." I chuckled at my faux fuming partner. We sat in the town diner sipping iced tea in the booth by the window. We were off duty, but our badges and handguns separated us from the other guests.
I sighed in exasperation when I noticed Mr. Williams glared at the young men who whistled at me through the diner's window.
"Just because you're old enough to be my father, doesn't mean you are my father." I said unnerved by his resemblance to my papa. He eased up on the young men who had begun to jog away from the diner. I relaxed, he was just looking out for me.
"Where in God's name is our waitress?" Mr. Williams exclaimed abruptly. I glanced around. Her name was Stacey and she had shell shock red hair, and long fingernails with baby blue polish on them. I continued to try to find some other worker when I spotted a Hispanic waiter.
"Excuse me sir, but do you know where Stacey went?" I asked slowly, hoping he spoke English.
He paled under his dark skin and slowly backed towards the door leading to the storage room. He yelled back to me in a heavily accented voice.
"No lo se! I do not know!" I was concerned now. Why would he run for his life at such a simple question? The diner went dead silent, waiting for my first move. I slid out from the booth and drew my radio out from my belt. Just incase I might need it. Pushing the door to the storage room open I flicked on the lights. And there in front of me was a pool of blood and a finger with baby blue nail polish in the center.
"Mr. Williams, we now have at maximum 24 hours to find Stacey, the waitress alive, maybe not even alive. Call in backup and lockdown this baby." My voice barely shook, but it did anyway. I was terrified, we were dealing with a possible murder and known kidnapping. And as I leaned over towards the finger my radio began to make noises. I put it close to my head and let the message come through.
"Hello Dr. Howard. Guess Who!" The voice was cocky and quite sickening. "You have just found the first of several… Presents in this diner. And your first clue to the next present is; inside a solid, winds will blow. Hidden noises that cool and grow."
"Now, Goodbye Doctor. Good luck." I shivered as the communication was cut. How did this… man get my radio code? Or whatever one needs to contact a radio. I repeated the voice in my head. Not listening to the words, but the sound. Was there an accent? Lisp? Had there been words pronounced oddly? I ran this through my head until I put together a list of qualities:
It was a man. He was cocky. He was clever. And he had a plan of escape, contact, and capture.
"Mr. Williams, I'm afraid to say we have a psychopath in the building." Upon saying this, a call went out to S.W.A.T, and the police on their way were told to hurry up. Mr. Williams stood behind me, and put his large hand on my shoulder.
"Curly…. Can you tell me what this… 'Man' said?" He asked cautiously. My nickname was rarely ever used. Only close friends knew it, and I tried to relax once more to gather my thoughts.
"The only part that is important is this: Inside a solid, winds will blow. Hidden noises cool and grow." This had stumped me; my voice was full of animosity towards the riddle. When suddenly a light bulb went off in my head.
"Mr. Williams! A fan! Are there any fans in the diner? Like the type in a circular compartment?" My eyes lit up with excitement maybe this was the answer.
"Let me ask the boys… Hey! Chuck did y'all find any fans anywhere?" He had turned and hollered down the hallway towards the chief of police. We still stood inside the storage room, which reminded me distinctly of a warehouse. Odd for a family dinner to have such a huge storage space in back…
Several minutes passed before Chuck ever responded. He seemed to have done a once over again. He may have shook his head, but I couldn't tell. I only focused on the man's voice…
"Hey! Hey! Dr. Howard! Ok, good I was worried you were going to pass out on me. I know you wouldn't, but I was making sure. Chuck said that there were no fans anywhere." I had been zoning out, but I wasn't going to faint. Instead I was on the urge of crying. It wasn't my first case, but it brought back memories of a very bad day…
"Ok. Then what could the riddle mean? Solids, winds and noises?" I was even more confused now. When I saw Mr. Williams get a look of pure inspiration on his face.
"I got it!" He shouted, I noticed now how rarely he ever spoke quietly or in an "indoor voice". He jiggle-sprinted over to Chuck and explained with hand gestures and extreme urgency where he thought the next "present" was.
"The air vent! Where is it?" He was breathing heavily, but it didn't stop him from an attempted sprint to a stool that lead up to the air vent.
Almost ripping the cover from the hinges he found two fingers and this time a note with a clue.
"Good job… 'Curly' and Mr. Williams. The thinking aloud and moments of peril are quite entertaining and very inspiring. Oh, I relish the smell of torture in the afternoon! If I were you Doctor, I would check the stove. You will like my surprise." My blood ran cold as Mr. Williams read this. He was watching us. Listening to what we were saying. Possibly hunting us down waiting for a moment to strike.
"Doctor!" I suppressed a scream as a voice interrupted my thoughts. Thankfully it was Mr. Williams.
"You ok? You keep zoning in and out. I think this whole case is wigging you out. You want to sit this one out? I would be…." He stopped talking when he saw me make a shh-ing motion with my finger. I had an idea. If my fears were correct I knew how I could catch him.
Sorry Mr. Williams, I was just thinking on how terrified of closets I am… Just the thought of opening one up and finding four fingers or a body with a note saying look here now… It's a bit, unnerving. I would say so at least. So could you go check the closet now for me? I will go on to the kitchen." I didn't wink or tell him it was just a plan to get the freak out in the open. Instead I nodded and turned, walking to the door that lead from the storage room to the kitchen. Alone.
I knew about my clue, the stove… But what about the closet, would there actually be body parts or a note? I knew nothing of what Mr. Williams would find.
"All by myself. Don't want to live all by myself… I don't want to be all by myself…" I sang slowly as I approached the stove. I squatted down as soon as I was in front of the appliance.
Click. "Hello Doctor. So very nice to be alone with you finally." I knew it.
Does Dr. Howard live? Is Stacey, the waitress still alive?
Solution:
Thank goodness my papa ha me learn karate. Thank goodness I knew that this psychopath wouldn't shoot. And thank God I didn't just pee my pants.
I whirled around knocking his feet out from under him. The gun went off as he fell. Firing one round into the ceiling, I heard footsteps hurrying towards my location. The way back of the kitchen where I was struggling with a middle-aged Caucasian male.
"Freeze! Put your weapon down!" cried one of the several-armed policemen.
The man slowly placed his firearm on the concrete floor. "Where is Stacey?" I demanded pointing my gun to the back of his head.
"Why don't you open the stove Doctor? You never fully opened it before." His voice was even cockier; he knew we could do nothing for Stacey now.
"Pity." I said sadistically. "Wrong answer." But sadly for me, that was the last thing I remember before blacking out.