The Crow
A Poet's Grief
By NiteFenix
Chapter 2 – Vivid Like a Dream
"Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak of December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow--vainly I had sought to borrow
From the books surcease of sorrow--sorrow for the lost Lenore--
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore--
Nameless here for evermore." – The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe
The Sirens were like a crescendo to everything that had just happened. An exclamation mark. Real.
"Jesus, what the fuck happened here?" Detective Ramsey said as he got out of his patrol car and slammed the door.
"It looks like someone made confetti out of these two perps" He scratched his neck and shook his head in awe.
Detective Ramsey was a Veteran in the Boston Police Department. He was approaching his fifty eighth birthday. Retirement time. For fifty seven he was in remarkably good shape. The job kept him fit.
"What are you waiting for you asswipes close down this area, I don't want anyone coming in or getting out" Two patrolmen jumped at the orders and rolled out police tape around the Sedan standing in the street. Another team arrived and started collecting evidence, making chalk outlines of the "victims" and helping the original two patrolmen to keep the bystanders from contaminating the crime scene.
The road was blocked off from both sides in order to restrict any traffic from going by their way.
Ramsey walked over to one of the investigators working on the evidence taking out a notepad.
"What do we have here Gaines?" He asked curtly.
"We have two perpetrators carrying military issue SMG Assault rifles. Definitely American. This one here – "he said, pointing to the heavy-set man "– is a well known mob assassin. His real name isn't known but he goes by the alias of Antonio. As you can see his brains are splattered all over the hood, so you must be asking how we identified him. It's simple really." He lifted a part of the fatigue shirt up at the neck and showed Ramsey the unmistakable trademark tattoo of the Italian.
They had been searching for the assassin for more than 3 years, and so naturally they knew every detail about him.
"What puzzles me though, is this –"Gaines lifted up the other part of the fatigue shirt and showed Ramsey the other tattoo. –"I've never seen something like this before. Have you, Paul?"
Ramsey shook his head. As baffled as he was, something did seem familiar about the tattoo on Antonio's back. It definitely was one of the most intricate designs he had ever seen tattooed on skin. It was in the shape of an X. A snake intertwining between the different parts of it. But what made the image disturbing, was a single Raven, perched at the head of the X, staring mockingly down at the snake.
Gaines walked over to the other perpetrator on the other side of the car.
"This guy, we couldn't identify, but he has the same tattoo on his back."
Ramsey scratched his white beard, deep in thought. He scribbled something in his notebook and nodded at Gaines as he walked away from this crime scene and through the front gate of the house of Eleanor Jones.
*-*-*-*-*-*
Ramsey chuckled as he saw a young rookie called Jackson come running down the stairs holding his mouth.
"These rookies aren't as steadfast as we were in our young days." He said to no one in particular.
He walked up the rest of the stairs and loosened his coat, letting it hang off his back.
"You look smug." Police Chief Law observed from the end of the hall leading up to Eleanor Jones' bedroom.
Ramsey shrugged and started walking towards his boss.
"This is the second attack of it's kind in Six Months Detective Ramsey" Law said.
"I know, I know Chief, and I'm working around the clock to find out who these guys are."
"That's not good enough Paul, I expect better from you. You're the best our department has ever seen. That's why I put you on this case to begin with."
"Dammit Jayce, we've had absolutely no concrete clues to move on in six months now, you know that."
The use of their first names didn't unnerve either of them. They'd been friends since they were both rookies in the department.
"Gaines informs me otherwise. He tells me you found this weird-ass tattoo on two of the perps downstairs' backs."
Ramsey shrugged again and opened his mouth as if to speak, but then thought the better of it. He lifted up his hands in mock defeat and smiled at his employer.
"Do you need a break from this case Paul?" Law asked, concern in his voice.
"No, I'm fine boss, really." Ramsey kept the smile plastered on his face.
Law just shrugged and stepped aside letting Ramsey pass.
Ramsey stepped into a world of chaos. The entire room smelled of gunshots. There was blood, Eleanor's body lay spread eagled on the floor, covered in blood, but barely breathing. A medical team had covered her nakedness with a sheet and had her breathing through an oxygen mask.
The other two people in the room were a mess. One lay with his back against the wall, ripped apart by SMG fire and the other was hanging by one leg from the window sill, bullet wound between the eyes.
The entire bedroom floor was strewn with little pieces of glass from the mirror and the invocators had to move carefully not to disturb any potential evidence.
"Detective, we have to move her now." One of the police men said as he saw Ramsey entering the room.
"Have you gathered all the evidence that can be gathered from the area surrounding this woman as well as taken pictures of the area?"
"Yes sir"
"Go ahead"
The medical team moved swiftly to carry Eleanor from the chaos that was her bedroom.
"Did Miss Jones live alone?" Ramsey asked one of the investigators.
"No sir, her mother lives with her. She hid in the basement when she heard someone at the front door."
"Thanks for the info officer. Do you know where I can find her now? I'd like to ask her a couple of questions."
The investigator shrugged and showed him towards one of the other bedrooms.
"Good evening Ma'am, my name is Detective Paul Ramsey-"he flashed his badge as he entered her room "-I'm with the Boston Police Department."
The elderly woman was ashen pale and was sitting on the bed, loose strands of hair dangling across her age ridden face.
"It's too late..." She muttered to herself.
"Yea I know, ma'am. One gentleman has already passed away. Do you know who I'm talking about?"
She looked up at him, her eyes wild.
"You don't understand. It's too late. They have taken everything away from us."
Ramsey stepped back as the elder woman leaped into his arms.
"Hold it lady, I don't know what you're talking about but there's no need to get so up-close-and-personal with me."
The elder Mrs. Jones just turned around and walked to the window, apparently not hearing a word that Ramsey had just said.
She stared out the window and muttered to herself in the same despairing tones.
"All hope is lost. They have taken it all."
*-*-*-*-*-*
Ramsey fell into his office chair with a listless sigh. The entire week's investigations had turned up nothing and Law had decided to brand the case 'Unsolved'. There was nothing he could do now but try to go on with his life. For the last year he had been wrapped into a wild goose-chase.
Starting with an attempted murder on a doctor exactly 12 months before, the case had just escalated, leaving one body after the other.
The funeral for James was as ordinary as any other. His brother had flown in from New York to attend the service, but other than that, nobody else showed. It was only James' brother and Ramsey and the priest. The snow coated the entire graveyard and their shoes made a squelching sound as they walked along the pallbearers to the gravesite.
Ramsey sat in his chair thinking of the heroic boyfriend. What was he thinking? Charging a bunch of highly armed criminals with a mere handgun? Suicide!
He shook his head and got up out of his chair. He looked at his final report laying on the table dismally and turned to walk out the door.
As he took his coat, switched off the light and closed the door behind him he couldn't help but wonder what the old lady was going on about.
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or
devil!--
"Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by Horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore--
Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."" – The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe
*-*-*-*-*-*
A/N I just thought I'd list some of the information resources (not counting Edgar Allen Poe's Poem) to give credit where it's due.
Boston USA – www.bostonusa.com – Travel information, specifically about weather and recreation. United States Postal Service – Do the postal workers really get violent? *hides* Harvard Web Site – www.harvard.edu – General information.
Chapter 2 – Vivid Like a Dream
"Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak of December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow--vainly I had sought to borrow
From the books surcease of sorrow--sorrow for the lost Lenore--
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore--
Nameless here for evermore." – The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe
The Sirens were like a crescendo to everything that had just happened. An exclamation mark. Real.
"Jesus, what the fuck happened here?" Detective Ramsey said as he got out of his patrol car and slammed the door.
"It looks like someone made confetti out of these two perps" He scratched his neck and shook his head in awe.
Detective Ramsey was a Veteran in the Boston Police Department. He was approaching his fifty eighth birthday. Retirement time. For fifty seven he was in remarkably good shape. The job kept him fit.
"What are you waiting for you asswipes close down this area, I don't want anyone coming in or getting out" Two patrolmen jumped at the orders and rolled out police tape around the Sedan standing in the street. Another team arrived and started collecting evidence, making chalk outlines of the "victims" and helping the original two patrolmen to keep the bystanders from contaminating the crime scene.
The road was blocked off from both sides in order to restrict any traffic from going by their way.
Ramsey walked over to one of the investigators working on the evidence taking out a notepad.
"What do we have here Gaines?" He asked curtly.
"We have two perpetrators carrying military issue SMG Assault rifles. Definitely American. This one here – "he said, pointing to the heavy-set man "– is a well known mob assassin. His real name isn't known but he goes by the alias of Antonio. As you can see his brains are splattered all over the hood, so you must be asking how we identified him. It's simple really." He lifted a part of the fatigue shirt up at the neck and showed Ramsey the unmistakable trademark tattoo of the Italian.
They had been searching for the assassin for more than 3 years, and so naturally they knew every detail about him.
"What puzzles me though, is this –"Gaines lifted up the other part of the fatigue shirt and showed Ramsey the other tattoo. –"I've never seen something like this before. Have you, Paul?"
Ramsey shook his head. As baffled as he was, something did seem familiar about the tattoo on Antonio's back. It definitely was one of the most intricate designs he had ever seen tattooed on skin. It was in the shape of an X. A snake intertwining between the different parts of it. But what made the image disturbing, was a single Raven, perched at the head of the X, staring mockingly down at the snake.
Gaines walked over to the other perpetrator on the other side of the car.
"This guy, we couldn't identify, but he has the same tattoo on his back."
Ramsey scratched his white beard, deep in thought. He scribbled something in his notebook and nodded at Gaines as he walked away from this crime scene and through the front gate of the house of Eleanor Jones.
*-*-*-*-*-*
Ramsey chuckled as he saw a young rookie called Jackson come running down the stairs holding his mouth.
"These rookies aren't as steadfast as we were in our young days." He said to no one in particular.
He walked up the rest of the stairs and loosened his coat, letting it hang off his back.
"You look smug." Police Chief Law observed from the end of the hall leading up to Eleanor Jones' bedroom.
Ramsey shrugged and started walking towards his boss.
"This is the second attack of it's kind in Six Months Detective Ramsey" Law said.
"I know, I know Chief, and I'm working around the clock to find out who these guys are."
"That's not good enough Paul, I expect better from you. You're the best our department has ever seen. That's why I put you on this case to begin with."
"Dammit Jayce, we've had absolutely no concrete clues to move on in six months now, you know that."
The use of their first names didn't unnerve either of them. They'd been friends since they were both rookies in the department.
"Gaines informs me otherwise. He tells me you found this weird-ass tattoo on two of the perps downstairs' backs."
Ramsey shrugged again and opened his mouth as if to speak, but then thought the better of it. He lifted up his hands in mock defeat and smiled at his employer.
"Do you need a break from this case Paul?" Law asked, concern in his voice.
"No, I'm fine boss, really." Ramsey kept the smile plastered on his face.
Law just shrugged and stepped aside letting Ramsey pass.
Ramsey stepped into a world of chaos. The entire room smelled of gunshots. There was blood, Eleanor's body lay spread eagled on the floor, covered in blood, but barely breathing. A medical team had covered her nakedness with a sheet and had her breathing through an oxygen mask.
The other two people in the room were a mess. One lay with his back against the wall, ripped apart by SMG fire and the other was hanging by one leg from the window sill, bullet wound between the eyes.
The entire bedroom floor was strewn with little pieces of glass from the mirror and the invocators had to move carefully not to disturb any potential evidence.
"Detective, we have to move her now." One of the police men said as he saw Ramsey entering the room.
"Have you gathered all the evidence that can be gathered from the area surrounding this woman as well as taken pictures of the area?"
"Yes sir"
"Go ahead"
The medical team moved swiftly to carry Eleanor from the chaos that was her bedroom.
"Did Miss Jones live alone?" Ramsey asked one of the investigators.
"No sir, her mother lives with her. She hid in the basement when she heard someone at the front door."
"Thanks for the info officer. Do you know where I can find her now? I'd like to ask her a couple of questions."
The investigator shrugged and showed him towards one of the other bedrooms.
"Good evening Ma'am, my name is Detective Paul Ramsey-"he flashed his badge as he entered her room "-I'm with the Boston Police Department."
The elderly woman was ashen pale and was sitting on the bed, loose strands of hair dangling across her age ridden face.
"It's too late..." She muttered to herself.
"Yea I know, ma'am. One gentleman has already passed away. Do you know who I'm talking about?"
She looked up at him, her eyes wild.
"You don't understand. It's too late. They have taken everything away from us."
Ramsey stepped back as the elder woman leaped into his arms.
"Hold it lady, I don't know what you're talking about but there's no need to get so up-close-and-personal with me."
The elder Mrs. Jones just turned around and walked to the window, apparently not hearing a word that Ramsey had just said.
She stared out the window and muttered to herself in the same despairing tones.
"All hope is lost. They have taken it all."
*-*-*-*-*-*
Ramsey fell into his office chair with a listless sigh. The entire week's investigations had turned up nothing and Law had decided to brand the case 'Unsolved'. There was nothing he could do now but try to go on with his life. For the last year he had been wrapped into a wild goose-chase.
Starting with an attempted murder on a doctor exactly 12 months before, the case had just escalated, leaving one body after the other.
The funeral for James was as ordinary as any other. His brother had flown in from New York to attend the service, but other than that, nobody else showed. It was only James' brother and Ramsey and the priest. The snow coated the entire graveyard and their shoes made a squelching sound as they walked along the pallbearers to the gravesite.
Ramsey sat in his chair thinking of the heroic boyfriend. What was he thinking? Charging a bunch of highly armed criminals with a mere handgun? Suicide!
He shook his head and got up out of his chair. He looked at his final report laying on the table dismally and turned to walk out the door.
As he took his coat, switched off the light and closed the door behind him he couldn't help but wonder what the old lady was going on about.
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or
devil!--
"Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by Horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore--
Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."" – The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe
*-*-*-*-*-*
A/N I just thought I'd list some of the information resources (not counting Edgar Allen Poe's Poem) to give credit where it's due.
Boston USA – www.bostonusa.com – Travel information, specifically about weather and recreation. United States Postal Service – Do the postal workers really get violent? *hides* Harvard Web Site – www.harvard.edu – General information.