"Hi. You've reached John Constantine, I'm out of town at the moment and not sure when I'll b back, leave a message and I'll get back to you when I'm back, unless the machine breaks or I ignore your message."
Angela rolled her eyes upon hearing the outgoing message, now she remembered why they broke up, she head the beep and said, "John, its Angela, I need your help with work."
Angela went to the closet and out several heavy boxes, loaded with books of varying age and size, though they all had a common theme. 'Alestir Crowley, Magician or Fool?' 'Malleus Maleficarum'(1) 'History of the Necromancer' 'Vampyr' 'The Occult for Dummies' 'Fallen Angels' 'Lucifer's Plummet' were all among the titles.
She sat on the floor and flipped through the pages for hours, searching for anything that even remotely resembled the rituals of the murder or the images of her vision, finally she grunted in frustration and hurled a book at a wall, she hung her head and sighed, made a short prayer and got back up to retrieve the book.
As she picked up the leather bound volume, she noticed a tiny matchbox next t it, one that apparently was used as a bookmark. It was purple and bore a silver image of a scorpion, as well as an address and a title, 'Club MIDNITE'
Angela pulled her SUV up across the street from the address on the matchbox. She pondered if she got the address right as she stepped out of her car and walked the door, which was a large gate lodged between a drugstore and a butcher shop, there was no doorman nor a sign of any kind.
She walked through the gate and saw a stairs leading down. Red lights lining both sides, at the bottom the landing was in burgundy carpeting and a bouncer of daunting proportions stood, she could hear the sound of loud rock music coming so she knew she was at the right place.
"'Evening." said Angela as she slipped the bouncer a twenty-dollar bill and tried to slip in.
"Sorry." said the bouncer as he handed her the bill back and blocked her exit.
"LAPD." said Angela as she flashed her badge.
"Do you have a warrant?" asked the bounce after a beat.
"No, but"
"This is an Exclusive club, miss. You have to get permitted"
"So how do I get permitted"
"You guess what's on the back of this card."
Angela was struck by the request but opted to play along as the bouncer produced a card from a deck and held it up with the patterned side shown to her. She only needed a second of focus to see the image n the other side.
"A four headed dog on a boat."
The bouncer stepped out of the way and said, "Welcome to the club."
'Emotionless I slip in to the black,
and there's no turning back now,
everyone around me smoking crack,
this tunnel is blinding' (2)
The music blared as Angela walked through the club. Angela heard the name Midnite several times; she had heard John mention him a few times, mention that he had a hand in her rescue. She had also hard of his club, an infamous hangout for those powerful and shrouded in mystery, so exclusive that they didn't even book any live music.
'Hallucinating I'm debating life, but it's still moving forward,
if I could change the hands of time.'
She was certainly intrigued; the place combined several clashing styles, part Early American speakeasy, part Electro night club, and part African tavern. Crosses and Crescents and many other symbols were carved everywhere.
But the decor was not the frightening aspect of the place, but it was the patrons themselves, she could feel the hearts of fire in those who were demons, and the halo of light surrounding those angels, and as she could see them, she knew they saw her back. The Demons sent her frightening vibes that brought a clear idea of what they intended, an the Angels showered her with their calming effect, so between the two, their effect was evened up and cancelled out and she was still as nervous as she was when she walked down the stairs.
'Well I'd do it better,
Just walk away,
just walk away.'
She walked to where she speculated Midnite's office would be, behind a massive leather paneled door, but as she was waiting, it opened and out walked a young man, clean shaven with red hair.
"Hello Angela." he said casually as he walked of.
"How do you know my... name?"
The man had disappeared so she turned back to the door and walked in.
The man before her struck her as elegant, suave, intimidating, and extravagant and with lots of dignity and an unconventional fashion sense, h looked at her as if awaiting an explanation.
"Mr. Midnite," she said, "Hello, I'm An-"
"I know who you are, Detective." said Midnite in his accented deep voice; "You're John Constantine's friend."
"That's right."
"He'd out of town. I assume you need some consultation about the murder of the journalist today?"
Angela didn't know what to say.
"Word travels fast in these circles." explained Midnite.
"I see. That's exactly why I'm here."
"Please." said Midnite as he pointed at a nearby leather chair, "May I interest you in some Scotch?"
"No, thanks. I was wondering if you have any idea who might it have been."
"Lieutenant, there are four kinds of people who com into my house. Those who are Angels, those who are Demons, those who were endowed with powers at their birth; like you and those with great knowledge and accumulated power, like me. And none of the above has a habit for talking about who they ritualistically killed."
"I suppose not, I was just wondering who has a method of action similar to the murder; perhaps you have a cult or secret society."
Midnite pondered for a few moments, "May I see pictures?"
Angela removed some pictures of the crime scene from her jacket pocket and slid them across the desk to Midnite, who looked at them emotionlessly, as if he was reading the morning paper.
"He died from severe bleeding caused by a chunk of his flesh being torn from his stomach. His fingers were cut, only four were left, I think it may be a Satanic cult calling card."
"That's possible."
Midnite studied the pictures some more, "He had four digits left, you ay"
"Yes, why?"
Midnite dropped the pictures and turned to the drawers of his desk, where h produced a deck of cards; Tarot cards.
"Look familiar?" said Midnite, as he raised a single card, which depicted a man hung from a tree branch by his right foot, while his hands were bound behind him. It looked exactly like Hawley Mathews body at the scene of the crime.
"It's a reenactment"
"So, I see. But what is the meaning"
"The symbolism points to divinity, linking it to the death of Christ in Christianity and the stories of Osiris in Egyptian Mythology and Mithras of Roman Mythology. In all of these stories, the destruction of self brings life to humanity; on the card, these are symbolized respectively by the hanged man and the living tree from which he swings. Hence, the Hanged Man represents the sanctity of all existence and its need for salvation by self-sacrifice"
"Come again?"
Midnite smiled darkly.
"It appears that the Killer sees that the victim needs to sacrifice himself for the grater good, very possibly he was going to uncover something that whoever the killer was working for thought should stay hidden."
"And the severed fingers"
"Time will tell, once the bodies start to appear in abundance"
"Excuse me"
"This isn't the last one, is it?"
Angla was taken aback, "I looked into his dead eyes, and yes, there will be more."
Angela looked at her watch as she climbed into her car, which indicated 1 a.m.; she turned the keys in the ignition and started to dive off, when her phone started ringing.
"Hello?" she answered.
"Good Evening, Lieutenant."
The voice was ominous, sinister and androgynous, what's worse is that it was the vice from her vision.
"You're the Killer.."
The Killer laughed, "Very good, what they say about you is true, you do see"
"And who would you be, or what? Demon? Satanist? Disgruntled Angel"
"It would be too easy to tell you. By now I bet you've discovered the significance of my work"
"The Hanged Man"
"Bravo. You're of to a good start"
"I assume this isn't a prank call and you want to say something"
"Yes, about this time, Victim Number two is about to meet a horrible death."
"Where?"
Angela heard the sound of animalistic growling on the other line followed by the sound of trains.
"You're the psychic. Have a pleasant Law Enforcing."
The Killer hung up.
The Second murder featured the death of a man of his late twenties, extremely well built mauled by a lion, both the lion and the victim were chained to a wall in an ally, the whole crime scene was too much to believe, and even though it had no resemblance to the other murder, Angela knew for certain that it was by the same killer.
The lion was sedated and taken away by animal control department workers, allowing the Detectives to inspect the crime scene.
"What do you think, Lieutenant?" asked Detective Xavier.
"It's the same guy as this afternoon's"
"The Hell it is. What makes you think so?" said Libowitz.
Angela took two cards out of the deck Midnite gave her, the First was Number twelve; the Hanged Man. And the second was number eight; Strength, which depicted a man spreading a lion's jaw open.
The Body had the number '8' carved into the palm of its hand that was chained to the wall.
"Any idea how many are left?" asked Xavier discretely.
"Twenty if we don't get him fast."
(1) The Book whivch translates to 'Hammer of Witches' was an actaull book published by the catholic church during the inquisition.
(2) The Song is Puddle of Mudd's Said.