The area was desolate. Not a soul was stirring and it looked as if no one had even been by in ages. Of course, that was inaccurate considering the presence of police tape that flapped in the wind.
Seeing as there was no one to enforce the restrictions ordered by the police, Detective Chimp waddled underneath it, not even bothering to bend down as he passed beneath the tape. He went right for the chalk outline that was still present on the ground. This was where the body must have been. Obviously, the police had arrived after its discovery by the Zatara girl and had removed the body. He would need to look into where the body was being kept and who reported it. It wouldn't be the first time the person reporting a body was the one responsible for its current state.
"There's something spooky about this place," Alice commented, ducking under the tape as she used a hand to grab it and pull it upwards. "It just feels wrong."
The chimp tilted his head to one side to eye the girl. No doubt she was feeling the spiritual presence here. Most murder scenes had such auras in his experience. His senses as a chimp were telling him that something horrible had happened here and he needed to flee the area immediately. Those instincts lost against his intelligence, but they nagged at him constantly.
"It's a shame we did not get here in time to see the body," he mused. "We could have gleaned more information if it was still here."
"Like what?" Alice inquired, the girl searching the area as if she were expecting their murderer to be hiding nearby.
"The state of his clothes could have told us how he was attacked," he answered her. "He could have faced his attacker and was taken down, or it chased him down from behind, or even ambushed him from the side. We could have also deduced how he was killed."
"But we know how he was killed. That Constantine guy said his soul was sucked out."
"Ah, but there are a number of ways a soul can be sucked out," he pointed out. "One can suck it out, as we have been led to believe. Another is to tear the body open like an avocado. And yet another is to butcher it—"
"I get it, I get it!" Alice interrupted. "It can get messy. Very, very dark."
Yes, it could get quite dark indeed. Detective Chimp began strolling around the chalk outline, looking around the area as he did so. The scene was already contaminated, so finding some clue left behind by the mysterious hag was highly unlikely. Still, one did want to survey every angle. "What do you sense?" he asked the gothic girl.
Alice gazed down at the outline, her eyes glazing over. "Fear," she reported after a few moments. "Terror. Horror. Helplessness. It lingers like the rotten egg smell."
Yes, he was smelling that as well. It was faint, indicating that time had helped to dilute the odor. It also indicated that the source, the hag in this case, was not in the area. Malevolent forces released their foul stench constantly, so it stood to reason the smell was at its strongest when the source was present.
"So our victim was frightened, as well as he should be," the chimp remarked. "If you can still sense it, that means we can rule out an ambush. The momentary surge of fright would not linger. For it to last this long, our victim would have been hunted."
"So the hag chased him and caught up to him here," Alice summed up succinctly. "This hag must get off on causing the fear."
Detective Chimp finally began looking at the surrounding buildings. With ambush ruled out, it was necessary to determine why this specific spot was chosen. Rarely were such things accidental, even in a chase. The hag would have wanted her prey to come to this spot, a trap the victim would not see until it was far too late.
Or he was looking far into such matters and it was purely coincidence the murder happened here. The victim could have tripped, or stopped to catch his breath, a fatal error on their part. That would render any potential for this specific spot to be chosen as moot.
"Is there anything else you are sensing?" he asked after a moment.
"Just the stated above. Are we leaving soon? This place is too gloomy, even for me."
He nodded. "Do you feel like you have a sense for this hag? I would like to be able to confirm if we have the correct one should we encounter it."
"Oh, I got that. If we run into her, I'll know for sure," Alice confirmed.
Then it was time for them to depart. Not much else could be discovered here. As Detective Chimp walked the way he had come, passing under the police tape again, he couldn't help but notice just how empty this place was. While there was something to be said for urban decay, even such places still had some presence of life. In fact, he glanced down at the street, eyeing it critically.
Continuing to walk, he eventually reached a street intersection. Coming to a stop, he glanced to his left and then his right. Off in the distance, he could see cars passing through other intersections, but none came down either of the intersecting streets.
"Have you noticed it?" he asked eventually, Alice standing at his side.
"Noticed what?"
"There isn't a single sign of life here. I haven't seen a car drive down any of these roads and it is broad daylight now. There hasn't even been a sign of fecal matter on the sidewalk either."
Alice frowned before she looked all over. "I don't see any drug needles either," she said as she reached into her little purse and pulled out her cell phone. Turning it on, her thumb tapped and dragged on the screen for a few seconds. "Snapcrap isn't reporting anything for at least four blocks in either direction," she said after awhile.
Perhaps one of life's more absurd realities, for a city as renowned as San Francisco, it had a waste management issue, which stemmed from a homeless problem, which stemmed from an affordable housing issue with a detour to a low number of public restrooms. To be blunt, people without homes were performing unhygienic acts in the streets due to a lack of access to lavatory facilities. The problem had become so widespread, an application was made to report such instances so that the city could clean it up.
And now it was being used to confirm something quite unusual was happening.
There was a question as to how long ago the victim had been killed. That was something he would need to ask John Zatara's daughter, possibly Constantine if need be. Hmm, now that he thought about it…
"Is there any way you can see when the last reported fecal matter was reported in this area?" he asked his assistant.
"Doubtful," Alice replied. "That's not how this app works." She paused. "Just a second, let me check something." She got to work on her phone, doing whatever technological magic she needed. A master of tech as well as the arcane, this girl was.
"Check this out," she proclaimed eventually. "There's a map of all the reported human waste sites. Better yet, it updates daily so I can go back several days, even weeks if I need to."
Clever girl. "Does these maps show how long there has been a lack of reporting in this area?" he asked.
Alice dragged her finger over and over on the phone's screen. "Yeah, it's been easily a week since anything was reported. I'm guessing the last people here were the cleaning crews, at least before the hag and the dead guy."
Hmm, so this place was chosen, so there must be a reason for it. It was looking as if a trap had been prepared.
"I believe we need to look more into the victim," Detective Chimp declared. "Specifically, what led him to this location. Does he live here? Is this place close to his place of employment?"
"That sounds like a job for Fred," Alice surmised as she tapped her thumb on her phone before she raised it up to her ear. Clearly, she was calling him.
Again, Detective Chimp surveyed their surroundings. What was the meaning of this place for this murder? He felt they would understand this hag better when they learned that.
It wasn't uncommon for John to feel like his reputation was a hindrance. It became a pain when people that knew him took time out of their day to air dirty laundry. That wasn't very beneficial to a new magic user on the scene.
And of all people, it had to be the daughter of John Zatara. Constantine had never met the man, but his reputation preceded him, even in death. Talk to any of the old codgers at the Oblivion Bar, and they could tell you story after story of the guy's accomplishments. Personally, John wouldn't have bothered with most of them since a lot of it involved personal sacrifice and he wasn't really into that.
When someone was in as deep as he was in the game, one knew when an opportunity was knocking. In this case, it was Anita Soulfeeda. Unlike John Zatara, he had met Anita once. It was one of the more amicable meetings since she had yet to declare what a menace to society he was. Then again, he probably hadn't left that much of an impact on her as their meeting had been brief. That was a rarity for him.
Now, what got his interest with Anita was why she would come out of her self-isolation. The Anita he knew didn't care one whit about the world around her, just so long as it didn't bother her. That explained the briefness of their one-and-only encounter. This hag, he imagined, had bothered her enough to draw her out. Why else would she be on the other side of the world from her home, trying to track this witch down?
That was the crux of it, wasn't it? See, John knew people didn't do things for the hell of it. There was always an ulterior motive; altruism was an idea without merit. Everyone got something out of their actions, even if it was the warm, tingly sensation of feeling good about themselves. People just didn't like to admit that about themselves since it sounded ugly.
John was an ugly kind of guy, though, so he had no problem being blunt, even about himself. He had happened to come across one of these scenes, seeing Anita investigating the handiwork of this hag. The first time had startled him—ya know, seeing a renowned recluse was always a surprise. Then he followed her, finding another scene and another, eventually leading up to the one with this Eric Gordon chap.
Now that he had Detective Chimp on the case, he could wash his hands of the physical aspects of this. He knew when someone was his better, and the monkey was a world-class sleuth. He wouldn't need to worry about what the chimp got up to. That left him to investigate other avenues.
Thankfully, the Zatara girl had parted ways as well. She was certainly a looker, very easy on the eyes. However, he got the feeling she had some kind of stick up her ass about virtue and idealism. Most new sorcerers and mages did, at least when they started. At one time, he had as well. After playing the game as long as he had though, such ideals had fallen to the wayside a long time ago. Lofty morals didn't last long in the world of magic.
Walking down the street, John took a drag from his cigarette, one that was nearing the end of its short lifespan. Faintly, he considered lighting up another one, but decided against it. He was almost where he wanted to go and lighting up again just to get a drag or two was a waste of a good cancer stick.
That's when he noticed it. Coming to a stop, John narrowed his eyes. He had been immersed in the world of magic for some time now, and one thing he had gotten used to was the constant sensing of magic at work. Europe was chalk full of it, making it hard for anyone to take a step and not notice some old, degraded spell just lingering in the air. Just about every building had ancient wards long forgotten by the general populous. It's why America was a nice change of pace. It was younger, so it didn't have nearly as much of the history as places like cherry ol' London had. Now, if he went out into the country, he could find some old, native spells lingering around. Those had their own, unique designs he had been certain to study. You never knew when you needed a curve ball in your arsenal.
But that was off-topic. See, because of the lack of spells and enchantments, he spotted a rather old, rotten trail. Some new mages always marveled at the color palette some spells made—again, he had felt the same way at one point. Allowing his magical senses to alter his normal ones, he spotted a sickly, decaying green spell, one that stretched from one side of the street to the other.
Drawing closer to it, his nostrils flared. Oy, now wasn't that the smell of rotten eggs. He was onto something here.
Taking the stub of his cigarette out of his mouth, John flicked it away, not bothering to see where it struck the pavement. He knew this smell and he was willing to bet he knew what had made it, leaving that magical trail in its wake. Approaching it, he found it was hovering along the sidewalk, one right at the intersection of two streets. Looking to his right, and then his left, John made the turn to his left and followed the trail.
Now, this was normally a bad idea. One didn't follow a trail like this, not without expecting trouble along the way, usually because whatever made it was rarely benevolent.
Thing was, John was also trouble. He just had to be prepared for whatever was coming.
The chances that Eric Gordon traveled from his place of employment to the city street he died on was becoming increasingly unlikely. Making the walk himself, Detective Chimp found the likelihood decreased with every step. The Palace of Fine Arts was simply too far, over miles and miles away. No way did this man walk and then run that distance.
There was also a noticeable lack of public transportation as well. San Francisco's famous tram line didn't go near the area Gordon was killed. There were buses of course, but Alice looked up on her cell phone that no bus had run a route between the locations, at least at that time of night.
So it begged the question as to how Gordon got there.
Here's what they knew. Eric Gordon left the Palace of Fine Arts after working a shift. That detail had been confirmed by a phone call to their frightened museum worker at Madame Xanadu's. The victim had worked his usual shift and then left, only to not show up the following day. That gave them their starting point.
Standing on the street with the museum in sight, Detective Chimp stared at it, trying to imagine which direction Gordon would have been heading. He had a home address that was just a little far for walking, but not outside of the realm of possibility. He didn't know this Gordon kid well, so he didn't know if he was a fitness junkie that would have made the walk, or if he preferred to drive. Alice was currently looking up vehicle registrations to see if he even owned a car.
"Nope, no car," the gothic-dressed girl announced. "DMV has a driver's license, but no registered vehicles to his name."
The chimp nodded as he focused his eyes on a bench beneath a little canopy. That was a bus stop, naturally. "Perhaps the bus then," he murmured before he walked out into the street. Alice didn't flinch as she followed after him.
As they reached the bus stop, the detective noticed several people in the area that were staring. No doubt they had never seen a chimp dressed as a detective before. Perhaps if they were in Los Angeles, it would be less of a scene. Hollywood had a way of desensitizing people to the strange and odd. He certainly qualified as both.
Finding a map bolted to the bus stop, Detective Chimp looked at the arrival times for the buses. There were several times, most between the morning and afternoon hours. As for the evening…
"Uggh, I can smell it here too," Alice complained.
Immediately, Detective Chimp sniffed and he caught the faint odor of rotting eggs. Now this was curious. Even with all of the gasoline pollution that no doubt poured out of the buses at this particular spot, they were both able to notice the lingering hag stench. No doubt most people wrote it off as the fumes from public transportation.
"It would seem our hag approached Mr. Gordon here," he observed. A man in a business suit sitting on the nearby bench whipped his head to gawk at them. Clearly, he had never seen a talking chimpanzee before. "Frightened, he would have fled, but where to?"
Taking in several more breaths, he tried to focus on the stench. It was a shame it was so degraded because it made it difficult to keep track of it. However, he was able to pick up the odor heading north, which led towards the bay. Sauntering in that direction, the chimp admired the sight of the Golden Gate bridge to his left, and Alcatraz Island off to his right. There wasn't any fog out at this time, so both sights were clearly visible.
Crossing a street, they entered a little picnic area. It wasn't much, just a wide-open grassy area. There were people milling around, some at wooden picnic tables while others were sitting on the grass. A couple kids were running around, playing some unknown game as a couple adults watched nearby. Detective Chimp ignored them as he walked across the little area.
Thankfully, the stench was stronger here, having less pollution here to dilute it. It was also quite noticeable how there was a stretch across the picnic area that no one seemed to be seated at, giving it quite a wide berth. A couple picnic tables fell into this stretch, none of which were occupied. That was telling considering how scattered the groups of people were here. Eventually, he and Alice reached the north-most part of the park.
Looking around, Detective Chimp found his gaze turning towards Alcatraz Island off in the distance. It remained nothing more than background as he found himself focusing on a little marina. Based off of its construction, and the boats in its dock, it appeared to be a yacht club.
"What are the chances Mr. Gordon fled towards that clubhouse?" Detective Chimp asked out loud. "Seeking refuge and sanctuary from the hag chasing him?"
"I would run there too," Alice agreed. "So long as the lights were on."
Yes, that would make sense. If Eric Gordon came this way, he would be looking for any sort of help. If he saw the lights to the yacht club were off, he would have gone in a different direction, ergo, the club lights were on that night.
So, to continue their investigation, they began to head towards the yacht club, but they didn't quite reach it. Part way there, Alice came to an abrupt stop, her eyes wide with astonishment. Noticing this, Detective Chimp came to a stop, turning to gaze at the girl. "Something wrong?"
"There's something funky going on here," she murmured. Reaching a hand out, she acted as if she were searching for something, grasping at the air. Then, as sudden as she started this, her hand seemed to go completely flat, as if it were pressed up against something. Her eyes focused on this phenomenon, her lips moving as she muttered a soft incantation.
Then, a flood of colors appeared before her. Every color of the rainbow cascaded from out of thin air and flowed to the ground, forming an oval shape that was as tall as a man. Alice continued to speak her incantation until the multitude of colors began to fade and a scene appeared.
Detective Chimp narrowed his eyes. The scene was that of the dilapidated buildings where Eric Gordon had been found. It seemed the story was becoming clearer and clearer.
"Nicely done," he complimented his assistant.
"What's a teleportation spell doing here?" Alice asked, staring into the portal.
"It's quite elementary, is it not? Our hag approached Mr. Gordon at the bus stop in front of the museum. Frightened, he fled this way, searching for help. However, he never found it as he ran right into this portal here, which transported him close to the location of his eventual demise. At the late hour this occurred, it would have gone unnoticed save for any passing traffic. Considering the distance we are from any buildings, it is highly doubtful any security cameras would have caught this moment. Perhaps the museum may have seen Mr. Gordon fleeing, but that would merely confirm what we already know."
"At least we know how the guy ended up where he did. Now what?"
"We consider the possibilities," he answered. "This tells us the hag is either a great predator, or is quite intelligent. I would say both in this instance as we know Mr. Gordon was targeted for his access to the Palace of Fine Arts. It would seem the grimoire is the hag's true target."
"If that was the case, wouldn't any of the other museum workers work too?" Alice countered. "She could have picked any of them whenever she wanted."
"Except Mr. Gordon had latent magical powers," Detective Chimp pointed out. "If access is all she needed, you are correct that any one person would do as long as they had access to the building. The hag drained our victim for this power as well. Clearly she had a preference."
"Or maybe it's just a coincidence?" Alice suggested. "Maybe there are a few more museum employees that suddenly stopped coming, but none of them had the access the hag wanted until she got this guy."
That was actually a good point. However, that pointed towards short term planning versus long term planning. Considering he was brought onto this case by John Constantine no less, he rather doubted a being that was seeking out instant gratification would stump the British conman.
No, there was something else at play here.
"I believe it is time we present our findings to our clients," he declared after a few more moments. "Perhaps there are other insights they can offer us that will clear this picture further."
"Whatever you say, boss," his assistant shrugged. "Lead the way."
There was a delicious gathering of magicks.
Throughout the city, she could feel them all drawing nearer to each other. It was difficult in this day and age to find persons of significant power all alone, without protections. Centuries of being hunted by the supernatural and mundane did that to sorcerers and mages. They were cautious now, always on the watch for predators stalking the streets for them. It didn't matter if they came with claws and fangs, or pitchforks and torches.
The Oblivion Bar was a refuge for these people, perhaps the one place they could drop their guards without fear. That made for a tasty morsel, but it was strictly off-limits for now. The Enchantress did not possess enough power to storm it and consumed the souls within it, not without suffering heavy damage to herself.
That would be changing quite soon.
It had taken some searching; she had searched this entire, stinking, infested city for this flighty whore, but she had finally located her prey and the prize she kept with her. The whore had led her on a merry chase, but now hid in a sanctuary she felt made her untouchable.
How wrong she truly was.
That was her first mistake, feeling as if she were safe. Only the most successful prey remained in a constant state of fear. They never let themselves feel safe because the moment they did, they were captured and torn into pieces. With that said, she could not fault this sense of safety the whore would have found at this little hole-in-the-wall place.
Even now she could feel the various magicks that surrounded the area. It made her lick her lips with anticipation. She needed to play this just right, however. One of the beings here had old magick at their command, which would prove to be quite an obstacle, especially if she wanted to get her hands on the grimoire. There was also that man that had come searching for her. As powerful as she was, it was fortunate that encounter occurred in the ethereal plain. Had it been in the physical world, the outcome would have been greatly different. There was something about that man that unnerved even her, which was saying something. He too was infused with the old magicks—even older, she felt.
In fact, she almost felt as if she were familiar with the ones that flowed from him.
The man was not present at this time, which was for the best. One person of old magic she could handle, two would threaten to overwhelm her. No, she needed to play this smartly. She could sense the powerful wards that kept the outside world at bay, frightening off lesser creatures. Directly entering was not an option, she felt.
She needed to draw these people out of their little hideaway.
"Alright, whore," she seethed. "Let's see just how well you have chosen your friends. I hope they're tasty. I really hope they're tasty."
Quick note: the Snapcrap app is an actual thing. I had heard such an app existed for San Francisco existed and looked it up. Necessity is the mother of all invention as the saying goes.
