Here is chapter three, hope you enjoy it, as you know, reviews are welcomed.
Detective Libowitz waltzed into Lt Dodson's office and slammed down a News Paper, it showed the cards of the Hanged Man and Strength on the first page and the Title; 'Fortune Killer stalks LA'.
"Fortune Killer?" scoffed Angela as she was reading police reports, "That's precious, sounds like Fortune Teller but with a twist. It's kind of childish and juvenile but still catchy."
"Though you might like it."
Libowitz left the office, leaving Angela to pin the article on a bulletin board behind her, along with several other articles and the two tarot cards so far, Strength and the Hanged Man.
Hours passed, the precinct getting the usual calls, officers came and left, felons passed in plenty. All the time Angela sat in her office studying everything she had on the two victims, desperately seeking a link, a place, or a date where the two lives met. But it appears only they knew.
"Lt Dodson?"
Even before she looked up, she knew he was a young man with short red hair and blue eyes. He wore a gray well tailored suit and his badge on his waist. Angela felt a sense of familiarity, almost sure she met the man before, but she attributed it to Dejavoe.
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry, I imagined you were some old Irish guy. I don't mean that-"
"Sorry to disappoint," said Angela, "And you are?"
"Oh!" he said and handed her a dossier, "I am Det. Michael DeMiurgos. Newly transferred to the precinct."
"Well, good to have you onboard, Detective. You should hand this to the Captain." said Angela as she handed him the dossier and went back t her reports.
"I already did, he pointed me here."
"Why?"
"I'm your new Partner."
"What?"
"Det Xavier is taking his leave, and-"
"Right. See you around."
Angela got up from her desk and stormed to the Captain's office, who was having a phone call with the Police Commissioner.
"We need to talk, Watford."
Captain Watford(1) starred at her for a second then spoke into the receiver, "I'll call you back, Jerry. Goodbye."
He hung up the phone and spoke to Angela, "I expect this is about your new partner."
"Yes, I don't ant him."
"That's cold of you; you didn't even give him a chance."
"Watford, I work with Xavier alone, he understands how I function and won't question me."
"Xavier is going to the Belize, Angie. He's been on the job for three years, the bastard deserves the rest."
"By that as it is, you can't just drop a rookie on my lap and expect me to show him the ropes."
"Det DeMiurgos graduated at the top of his class from the Academy, just like you. And he comes highly praised by his ex-Commissioner."
"You know, I bet he's a great cop. Bit I don't want him, period."
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant." said Det DeMiurgos as he appeared in the doorway, "I really believe I can surpass your expectations if you just give me a chance."
Angela paid no attention to him and bolted outside to where Xavier stood cleaning out his desk.
"Robert."
"Hey Angela." he said with a smile that faded once he saw her stern sharp glare.
"Belize? We have a killer in the city and you're going to Belize?"
He pulled her aside and talked to her softly.
"This all came out of blue, I bought the ticket yesterday morning, on a whim and a few hours later I found out I won. You know about my problems with Carla, were on the verge of a divorce, I thought this might be a chance to work things out with her."
Angela could read Robert very well, she knew what had turned up with him, and it wasn't his marriage, not just about it anyway. The Detective was finished, in twenty-fine years on the force he'd seen too much filth and inhumanity to go one day, and the ticket to Belize was the outing that he wanted, a true blessing from above.
"Fine, go, have fun."
"Angie.."
"Just go, were alright. Go."
She forced a smile and punched him lightly on the arm, "Give Carla my regards."
Xavier exhaled in relief and nodded his head at her. She turned around, and headed out, passing the rookie on her way.
"Are you coming?"
Angela's Trailblazer shot through the streets of LA, with Detective DeMiurgos in the passenger seat, both were silent and rarely talked. Angela tried to get a read on his emotions but strangely couldn't dig up anything.
The silence grew unbearable, so she asked,
"So, where are you from?"
"San Francisco." he said.
"Born and raised?"
"Actually I was born here, but moved when I was a month old."
"Know a Detective Omar Williams? We went to the Academy Together."
"Sorry, No."
"Why did you move here?"
"Got sick of working in the vice division, then I got divorced and I thought I needed a fresh start."
"Not the best place, if you ask me."
The silence returned once again.
"Detective, my next Question may come as a shock tom you, but what do you believe in?"
"Excuse me?"
"What do you believe in?"
Already she regretted asking the question. He curled his lips in a sign that he was picking his words.
"I believe.. In the protection of Individuals and public interest, and uphol-"
"I didn't mean that!" she said, "What are you personal beliefs?"
"You mean religiously?"
"Yes."
"My parents were devout atheists, if there is such a thing. But I try to keep an open mind, Y'Know? I sometimes believe there are some things science can't measure, something beyond us."
"Good enough." she said as she slowed down and parked next to a pharmacy.
"Were here."
"Were where?" DeMiurgos asked.
She walked down the stairs to club Midnite, the bouncer raised the card.
"Two Ducks in a Cloud."
She took simply pleasure in imagining Michael trying to guess.
The regulars were there, The Demons were drinking beer by the keg, The Angels turned water into wine, Vampires drank blood, everyone was doing their own thing. She head straight for Midnite's office and pushed the paneled door open.
"Detective. Welcome back."
Midnite was standing over an old contraption, that looked something like a globe but had strange regions and words written on it, names like: Abbadon, Hades, Grimora, Navihyme, Wadin, Jahanam and many others.(2)
"What's that?" she asked.
"It's the map of hell," he said simply, "I'm trying to find out if any high ranking demon could have done this."
Moments passed as he scanned it with his eyes and ran a ebony staff of the globe,
"No use," he finally said, "I can't get a read."
He put a drop cloth over it and sat to his desk, "So, I guess 'Strength' is off the list."
The door opened and Michael walked in.
"What? How did you get in?"
"I slipped th bouncer a hundred."
"And he took it?" Midnite asked furiously, "ANTON!"
Anton, a tall black man entered, he and Midnite exchanged a few words in french and Anton left. Probably to fire the bouncer or do something worse.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Angela said, "This is Detective Michael DeMiurgos, Detective, meet Papa Midnite."
"Hello."
Midnite didn't say anything and just glared, he didn't like normal folk being in his House.
"Detective, do you mind waiting outside?"
"Yes, I do."
Angela looked at him sternly.
"Fine."
Michael left.
"Never bring him here again." Midnite told her.
"He's my new partner, and I won't."
"Whose the new victim?"
"Charles Griffin, a body Builder. Had an 8 carved into his hand. Eaten alive by a lion."
"Can't you find him through the lion?"
"You mean like find out who had access to a lion and missing animal reports? We're doing that, It'll take us some time to find out. This IS LA; you can get your hands on a Mummy if you have the money."
"I've taken interest in the case," said Midnite as he took out an Illegal Cuban cigar and lit it, "I want to help you see it through. I've been talking to my sources, and of what I hear, whoever is doing it is doing it alone, the King of Hell has not commissioned it."
Angela's phone rang; she answered it and talked with Libowitz for a couple of minutes then hung up.
"We might know who stole the lion; I'm going to the suspects place now."
Two squad cars and some officers including Libowitz were outside the apartment building by the time Michael and Angela arrived, he had the warrant in his hands.
"Ready when you are, Lieutenant."
"Got a warrant already?"
"Are you kidding? Judge Hepburn was way too eager."
The suspect was Simon Messing, Thirty-nine, with no known profession, but whatever it was, it was lucrative enough for him to afford a nice apartment. He supposedly stole the lion from a Zoo in an Upstate town. He had a few priors, mostly related to Con Artistry, which was a lot like Constantine.
They stood out his door, called for the man but he was either absent or reluctant to answer, so the ram was brought and the wooden door was shattered by the force of officers holding it, and the policemen rushed into their apartment, drawing their guns, prepared for fierce resistance.
"LAPD, Don't M- Oh God!"
One cop hunched over and vomited onto the floor, two others retreated through the door, running as fast they could. Some drew the sign of the cross in the air, while Angela, Michael and Libowitz only starred in disgusted awe.
A corpse sat at a chair, it's right index finger raised in the air, pointing heavenward. Before it was a table, covered with some scrolls, talismans, amulets… magical paraphernalia.
The nightmarish side of it all was that the body itself had rotted considerably, or o it seemed, parts of it were on the floor, and a bloody wound was in the chest.
"The Magician."
Author's notes:
(1) Det Insp Watford was a character from the Hellblazer comics, a friends of John's, a veteran policeman.
(2) The names mentioned are names of Hell in several cultures.