The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 1067

Chapter 1067: “Dear Boss” [10]

Svipe disappeared into the growing night. Tomorrow was soon upon Istra. With much despair, the daily news opened with headlines that spoke, “-The DB. Killer’s taunt.”

Police tape lined the outside of the station. The Chief Investigator arrived on the scene. Arrived but it was little more than a two-minute walk from the station. A headless body was crucified against a concrete wall.

“Did no one see him?”

“I don’t know,” police officers were on edge. The body was fixed a few walls from the station, in an alley separating occupied eateries. Investigators prowled the street for witnesses or otherwise, proof.

Jack removed his hat and entered the scene, “-report.”

“Body was found at 05:45 this morning.”

“What about last night?”

.....

The officer moved one step and turned towards a man. The chief walked, and the officers cleared, leaving a somewhat private tête-à-tête. “You are?”

“Name’s Arnold. I found the body.”

“What about last night?” he took out a notepad, “-where there any strangeness?”

“No, not that I remember,” he looked over his shoulder and pointed upward, “-I live there, above the eatery. I have a good view of the alley. My windows give straight here. I didn’t notice it last night, a blinding shadow hid the alley. It’s hard to see on a full moon, let alone yesterday.”

The street’s mild dampness and fresh metallic-earthy scent, “-I suppose it did rain a bit.”

“Was it the DB. Killer?” narrowed the weirdly excited observer, “-I saw the Liar on his chest. It was the DBK wasn’t it?”

Jake moved aside and threw a strange look at Arnold, “-a man lost his life. Don’t be so excited. He had a family or even children.”

“Enough,” Tile arrived and pealed the duo aside, “-we will handle the investigation. Thank you for alerting the officers, good day.” Arnold remained in the open, shy of the yellow and black tape.

“Can you believe him?” Jack whispered.

“Don’t,” Tile held his breath, “-calm down, you don’t have to get riled up.”

“My bad,” they stood before the victim, “-victim number eight?”

“Victim number eight...” Tile sighed and vaulted over photographers. Jake shadowed.

“The paleness, the body’s been drained of blood. I can’t say the cause of death without an autopsy. Liar’s branded across his chest, I guess the DBK strikes.”

Jack carefully watched. The body was removed and placed on a stretcher, “-wait a moment,” he ordered the assistants, ‘-I remember this tattoo,’ he caught a glimpse of the arm, a pair of cards, an ace of spade and ace of diamond, both inked in their respective black and red color.

“Chief?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he zoned out.

“Take him to my office,” said Tile, “-I’ll start on the autopsy right away,” Jack pulled him aside and scanned, “-we have to talk.”

“Let’s talk here.”

“No, in private,” he whispered. Distant officers and attendants cleared the area, a clean-up crew was called to finish the final touches. 07:45, the morgue held various deceased patrons. ‘Jack’s acting weird,’ they entered Tile’s office, “-can we talk here?” Jack gasped.

“Yes, we should be the only ones. Why, what is the matter?”

“Tile, the man who came in earlier. He’s not a victim,” he swallowed hard, “-he’s the hitman we employed to kill the couple.”

“What?” they grabbed each other, “-the hitman?”

“Yeah...”

“What then?”

“I don’t know. If DB was able to find him... wait, where’s his head?”

“What do you mean head?”

Forceful footsteps echoed, “-Chief, chief!” a young officer stormed into the room, “-you need to see this,” he sweated and gasped.

“What now?” they threw on their coats and ran to the front desk. A dashing young man stood before an empty reception. “-I come to deliver this,” he softly laid a carton box and glanced at the chief with a content grin. Attention around the mystery parcel held the breaths of passing attendants.

“I know you,” Tile side-stepped into frame, “-you’re that reporter.”

“Correct,” the dashing man pushed back and bowed, “-the name’s Namra. An independent journalist working for the greater good of justice.” The department visibly pushed back, “-why are you here?” Tile narrowed.

Jack held his chest and shook his head behind the crowd. ‘The box’s damp. We found the body near the station. A reporter came with a smile. My gut’s telling me the DB killer has us on the ropes.’

“Chief Investigator,” Namra voiced, “-could I have a moment?”

He approached the box and looked at Namra, “-what is this?”

“I saw the body being hauled into the coroner’s office. My god, the timing couldn’t have been better,” he opened the box, Jack lost balance, “-careful,” Tile caught his colleague and glanced over his shoulder. “-My god,” he echoed. Silence brought the attention of bystanders. They each tiptoed for a better look – when satisfied, the expression dropped. “-So gruesome,” they echoed, an avalanche of fear and disgust gushed onto unsuspecting observers. In a way, becoming a sort of victim by association. Jack hastily closed the box and motioned to lift, “-not so fast,” Namra interjected, “-Jack, if I may be so bold,” he slid a note that read, “-Dear Boss, the time has passed us. I miss going the street, I miss hunting for the fateless. You say I’m a doctor, ha-ha, you say I’m one of great clinical knowledge, ha-ha. Great line, the chief was very descriptive in how I was to be captured. Dear boss, I’m not so easily found, for I’m one person, and only one. The one who killed the unfortunate couple, I bring him as a present. Do take attention when unraveling the box – the head is yet wet. The next victim will be someone important – don’t mock my actions and don’t draw baseless assumptions. I will strike again, yours truly, the DB. Killer,” a pale-faced Jack glanced, “-no way this is happening.”

“Unfortunately, I’ve sent the letter to various news outlets. It should be out any minute.”

“Where did you find the box?”

“I saw it on my way to work. Let me be frank. Someone gave me this letter last night. I was on the lookout for anything really.”

“Who’s that someone?” Tile’s ear perked, “-we might get a sketch.”

“Already did,” he smiled, “-It’s going to be published with the letter. I suggest you watch your back. The media won’t let this slide. Consider this my way of saying thank you for the profit.”

“Damned letch.”

The morgue’s cold temperament countered Jack’s flushed expression. The time read 09:00, and last night’s event was published. Istra’s gazette sold out their copies. A sketch of the DB. Killer was printed next to the crucified body as well as a close-up of the head. Suit-wearing officials entered and barged, “-Chief Jack, where is he?”

“Here,” he narrowed, “-and who might you be?”

“We’re from the Empire’s Central Agency, my name’s Luso. Starting now, we’re taking over the investigation on the DB.Killer.”

“The ECA doesn’t have authority in town affairs,” narrowed Jack, “-Istra’s a free ran the state. Policies within our town are decided by vote of the populous. We’re independent of the Empire.”

“A pseudo-democracy,” Luso narrowed, “-I’m accustomed to Istra’s way of life. I know very well how things work. Nevertheless, I won’t be the one supervising the investigation,” the group split, “-meet Odgar Codd of the Codd’s agency of investigation.”

“ECA’s outsourcing our investigation to some random name?”

“I’ve worked for many state-sponsored organizations,” Codd narrowed, “-you best comply. Orders come directly from the emperor.”

“Serious?” Tile coughed; “-is this not overkill?”

“No, it is not.”

10:00, the hot-day sun flashed through the frameless window. ‘Another nightmare,’ he sat upright and stared at the floor, “-last night was a lot of work,” an issue of the day’s paper waited under the door, half-pushed and half-crinkled. ‘-So much for a subscription,’ he went over to the door, picked up the news and began the daily routine. Breakfast was served, last night’s takeaway of fried rice cooked in goblin flesh. “-They found the head. Poor chief, he’s under fire,” the article went deeper and quoted, “-one of our sources say other investigations were called from overseas. Join us for the live coverage of the chief’s press conference.”

‘Looks to be about time,’ time showed 10:15, the starting time was set at 10:30.

“Looks like you slept well,” hailed an old lady behind a counter.

“Like a baby,” he returned smilingly, “-any idea where I can catch the news?”

“You mean the conference,” she shot a feeble gaze outside, “-go there, they’re hosting the news and serving food.”

” Alright,” he crossed the street and entered a somewhat crowded tavern. The table hosted few choice items, mostly the cheapest menu offered. A small television spoke loudly. He took a seat at the bar counter, ordered a beer, and stared at the screen like many. Anticipation, envy, and a thirst for answers. The camera switched, “-Good morning Istra. Today, our channel will host the live conference and go into detail about the DB. Killer.” Small talk was exchanged between the commentators, on the clock striking 10:29, the view changed to a full conference room. Chief Investigator Jack was accompanied by Tile, a representative of the police department and a familiar face fixed in the entourage.

‘Odgar?’ he stopped sipping.

“We will hold a question-and-answer session after the Chief investigator has spoken. Please,” he tapped the mic and scanned the crowd, “-the Dear Boss Killer is a menace to our lives in Istra. We of the investigative unit have pledged our lives to resolve crime and bring criminals to justice. Today is no different. Much speculation is out there, some say a killer is an old man, others a lady, and the conspiracies are fanned by the mind of an inexperienced sleuth. The Arcanum’s powerful tool, alas, tis a double-edged sword that has sullied the current investigation. We reassure the population that security has been fortified...” the chief went into details about what they knew and what the media had gotten wrong. The show came to the question-and-answer segment.

“What do you say about today’s murder?”

“It is unfortunate the body was found in such a gruesome state.”

“Is it true the body was found only a few meters walk from the police compound?

“Yes.”

“How then can we trust the police force to protect us if they can’t catch a killer even when he crucified a body to a neighborhood wall?”

“...”

“What about the reports of the last victim being the actual killer who shot the couple.”

“...”

“Did someone scheme and take advantage of the serial killer?”

“...”

“What do you make of this letter?”

“...”

“What do you have to say about the police force corruption?”

“...” chaos ensued. Jack waited and listened, he made no effort in answering their questions. Time limit grew, “-I’ll say this,” he grabbed the mic, “-whoever the killer is, I will make sure I find him and lock him away. Such monsters aren’t born in this world, he’s a demon. The investigating unit, starting today, will classify the investigation. Anyone found to be using said documents will be persecuted under Imperial Law. This is all,” he rose, “-thank you.”

Igna didn’t once veer from the screen, “-are you a lawyer?”

.....

“Why?” he turned at the young bartender, a lady in her mid-twenties with brown hair tied in a ponytail, “-do I look so corrupt?”

“No, no,” she chuckled, “-you watched so attentively. I thought you must be from the law.”

“No,” he took her compliment, “-I’m nothing of the sort. Just a humble doctor working the days and sleeping the nights,” he leaned, “-although, I shouldn’t be drinking this early.”

“A lawless doctor,” she smiled invitingly, “-what’s your name?”

“Lyoko,” he whispered, “-and you are, let me guess,” he closed his eyes, “-Barbara.”

“HOW DID YOU?”

“Your nametag,” they laughed, “-I forgot,” her nose flushed.

Barbara, it a pleasure,” he finished his drink, “-a drink served by the hands of such a lovely lady is most delicious.”

“Thank you,” she smiled and fluttered her eyelashes, “-Lyoko,” she bit her lips, her want to speak caught his attention, “-where or when can I see you again?”

“Ah, hopefully soon,” he leaned, “-I hear the cold season upon us,” she cracked, and they laughed.