Part 1 – Secret of the Wadrobe

Chapter One – Alleyway Murders

Hot water cascaded down my body in rivulets like the soothing fingers of a Swedish masseur. It was early, too early by most accounts, and I’d barely mustered the energy to do more than stand there and enjoy the sensation before my phone started blaring Katy Perry’s California Gurls from the sink just on the other side of the shower curtain and my eyes snapped open. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t yet washed. I quickly turned off the water, pulled back the curtain and grabbed my phone. Fortunately, it was one of those phones that didn’t mind getting wet or being dropped, two things that seemed to happen a lot in my line of work.

“Hello?” I answered the phone, trying not to sound too eager. I knew who was on the other end. California Gurls only played for Detective Rodriguez, and she only called when there was a case the police needed my help with. Business had been slow of late, and I was hopeful this call could break the monotony of another quiet day at the office.

“Miss Benson?” Detective Rodriguez was always so formal.

“Oh, hi, Marlene,” I said, trying to sound as pleasantly surprised as possible. “How are you this morning?”

“Fine,” she said. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Oh no, not at all,” I said, waving my hand in dismissive fashion as if she could see me. “I’ve been going over notes for a case I’m working on. What can I do for you?”

“Well, if you’re busy–“

My heart nearly leaped from my chest as panic set in. “No, no. It’s nothing super important. I’m always happy to help out the Santa Monica police department.” I chuckled nervously. I sounded like an idiot. “What’s up?”

There was silence on the other end as the detective seemed to mull things over. My heart was pounding in my chest like a hammer trying to punch through drywall. Finally, she answered, “Ok. Why don’t you come to me. It might be easier to show you what we have than tell you. Meet me at the Capital One Cafe on Broadway.”

She disconnected before I could even answer, but I was too excited to care. With the speed of a gazelle, if not the grace, I dried myself off, threw on some jeans and a t-shirt, put my hair in a pony tail and headed out the door with my detective gear. My apartment was only a few blocks from the cafe, so I half-walked, half-ran to the cafe. When I arrived, Detective Rodriguez had a hot chocolate and blueberry muffin waiting for me.

I flashed her a warm smile. “It’s like you know me,” I said, taking the proffered goodies.

A tiny sliver of a smile crossed Marlene’s stoic face as I bit into the muffin. It was still warm, and tasted divine, especially on an empty stomach.

“Come on,” she said, gesturing for me to follow her down the alley behind the cafe. “But prepare yourself. I don’t want to see what that muffin looks like coming back up.”

I frowned at her words, which seemed a bit ominous for predawn, and it suddenly occurred to me I should have contacted Claire before arriving. I put my muffin on top of my hot chocolate, and whipped out my phone. With one hand, I sent her a quick text to meet me at the cafe as soon as possible. She lived further away, and very much liked to sleep in, so I wasn’t sure when that would be, but I hoped no more than a couple hours.

Past the large brownstone behind the cafe there was crime tape sectioning off a large area, and several officers standing around chatting. Marlene flashed her badge at one of them, but he barely gave us any notice as we slipped under the taped-off barrier. Beyond the brownstone, the alley widened into an area with dumpsters, several notable blood stains, and a white sheet draped over what I could only assume was the remains of some poor soul.

“What happened here?” I said, stuffing the last of the blueberry muffin in my mouth.

“The man under the sheet is Gary Sutton,” Marlene said, pointing to the body. “He is, or was, an auctioneer for Lisak Auction Services. Rikki puts time of death night before last. It’s unclear who or what killed him, but for now it’s officially an animal attack.”

Rikki was the coroner, and I’d worked with her before so I knew the information would be good. Marlene motioned for a nearby cop to lift the sheet and reveal the dismembered remains of Gary Sutton. Deep gouges ran down his face and chest caused by what I assumed to be four very sharp claws. One leg was nearly severed at the hip, and his arms were curled behind his back as if he had no bones at all.

“Good lord,” I said, not at all religiously. “What could have done this?”

“We canvassed the area. One witness claims to have heard growling that night, like that of a mountain lion,” Marlene said, gesturing for the cop to cover the body up again.

“A mountain lion?” I cast a rather dubious glance her way.

Marlene shrugged. “Yea, I don’t really think so, either. There are no signs of robbery, so we don’t really know what to make of it.”

The body was lying near an open dumpster. I spotted a trail of blood leading from one to the other, and made a mental note to check that later.

“There’s more,” Marlene said, grabbing my arm and leading me back towards the alley.

I tried not to spill my hot chocolate as she jostled me, and when we were out of earshot of the other troopers she continued.

“This is the second of three murders in three nights, all with roughly the same M.O.” She spoke in a low voice. “Rumors are starting to leak to the press, and city hall is worried about spreading panic.”

I made a second mental note, this time to remind myself to check the news once in a while.

“Who were the other two?”

“The first was Bob Elgan, a homeless man, who was killed not far from here in another alley, and last night a young couple was attacked near the shopping district. The man was killed, but the woman,” she paused to check her notes, “a Miss Diamond, survived and was checked into the hospital. She reported a loping, hunched creature assaulted them from out of an alley.”

“I’m sensing a theme.” That every murder took place near an alley was not lost on me. “Were the other bodies in the same condition as this one?

“Mostly,” Marlene said. “Mr. Elgan was partially eaten as well.”

“Alright,” I said. “This certainly sounds like something I can help you out with.”

Relief spread across Marlene’s face. “Thank you,” she said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “The chief is on my ass about this, but I just don’t have much to go on.”

I furrowed my brow. “What about this Miss Diamond character? She have anything else to say?”

Marlene shook her head. “No, she was checked out this morning by persons unknown. The hospital staff stonewalled my questions. I put in for a warrant, but I don’t have high hopes.”

“No problem,” I said. “I know a guy who might be able to help.”

“Great,” she said. “Let me know what you come up with. I’ll leave this crime scene for you for another couple hours, but then I have to clean it up. Do what you can.”

I gave her a confident smile as we shook hands, and promised to let her know as soon as I knew anything. As she walked away, I took out my phone and called Claire. She answered with “I’m coming, I’m coming.” I told her to hurry, and to contact local contractors P.T. and Jeremy. Neither of them technically worked for me, but they had helped out on previous jobs, and something told me we would need them for this one.

Chapter Two – Scene of the Crime

I sat quietly in the corner of the cafe waiting for the others. Not surprisingly, P.T., sharply dressed as usual, was the first to arrive. He noticed me, gave a quick nod of greeting then made his way to the counter to get some coffee. A minute later Claire came in, her hair a wild mess as if she’d just gotten out of bed. She waved to me, and took a step directly into the path of another patron heading out the door.

“You clumsy oaf!” the man shouted as his coffee splashed over himself, Claire and the floor.

Claire tried to sputter an apology, but her words came out a garbled mess. The man seemed about to verbally assault her until P.T. intervened, and persuaded the man to let him replace the coffee. An attendant arrived to clean up the mess as Claire awkwardly backed away and joined me at the table. She sat down with a thump and a sullen look upon her face.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” I said. She looked at me and gave a great “harumph”.

I couldn’t help laugh, but her mood brightened considerably when P.T. arrived with a cup of honeyed green tea for her. Her eyes twinkled as she looked up at him and muttered a quiet thanks. P.T. was ever the charmer, but sometimes I wondered if he wasn’t a little extra charming for poor Claire, who’s social demeanor could be best described as awkward.

While the two of them sat and sipped their drinks, I scanned the cafe. It was beginning to get crowded, and most of the people were ignoring us, but one man caught my eye. He wore a thick, scraggly beard and tattered clothes. I vaguely recognized him earlier that morning when I saw him loitering across the street. When our eyes met, he startled and bolted through the door. I watched him cross the street and hunker down, wondering if he was here just for the muffins or something else.

A few minutes later, Jeremy arrived looking disheveled and exhausted. “It’s far too early for this,” he grumbled as he plopped down in his chair and pulled a laptop, monster energy drink and a bag of beef jerky from his pack. I noticed the barista giving him a bit of the side eye, but fortunately he was too busy with the crowd to come over and bother us.

“Alright, well, we’re all here,” said P.T. “What’s up, boss?”

I told them about the call from Detective Rodriguez, and the three grisly murders. P.T. kept his gaze upon me the entire time while Claire nervously chewed at her fingernails and Jeremy tapped on his laptop without so much as a glance in my direction.

“Sam Culliver,” Jeremy said when I finished.

“What?” I asked.

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “The guy who was killed last night,” he said, a little too loudly.

“Shhhh,” I hushed him while glancing around the room to see if anyone heard. No one seemed to notice. I turned back to Jeremy. “How do you know that?”

He shrugged. “I checked the hospital records.”

“Oh, right,” I said. I wasn’t much for computers, and I was pretty sure most of what he did was illegal, but I tried not to ask too many questions. “What about the girl, Miss Diamond. Who checked her out?”

“I don’t know yet,” he growled, waving his hands in frustration. “The wi-fi here is terrible.”

I glanced at my phone. It had full bars. “Well, keep working at it, and let me know what you can dig up.” He nodded almost imperceptibly and continued tapping on the keyboard. “Meanwhile, P.T. and I are going to check the scene for clues. Claire, I want you to stay here and keep an eye out. The man across the street seems to be showing a bit of interest in our work. Could be something. Could be nothing.”

Claire nodded, and P.T. followed me out the door.

“You really think that guy could be involved?” P.T. asked as we made our way to the alley.

I shrugged. “The first victim was homeless. He looks like he could be, too. Maybe he saw something or figured out these two deaths are related. Either way, I have a hunch he could prove of interest at some point.”

We approached the crime scene and the same cop who had admitted Marlene and me earlier put his hand up to stop us from entering. I could see he was young, probably no more than a year on the force.

“Sorry,” he said. “Crime scene.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, and instead produced my P.I. badge. He blinked at it a couple times, then I reminded him I’d been here earlier, and he waved us in with a quiet apology.

“Kids these days,” P.T. said with a smirk as we moved towards the covered body and out of ear shot.

“I’ll take the body,” I said, suppressing a laugh. “Search the area for tracks or anything else the assailant might have left behind.”

It’d been a few months since we’d worked a crime scene together, but P.T. showed no signs of rust as he fell comfortably into the routine.

The cops had dispersed by now, leaving the rookie to man the scene, so I put on some gloves and lifted the sheet to examine the body. I’ve seen a lot of dead bodies over the years, but this was more gruesome than most. I grabbed my magnifying glass and focused on the work.

The first thing I noticed was a spiral-pattern carving in the man’s forehead. I specialized in strange and archaic runes and symbols, but this was not one I recognized. After wiping away some of the blood and crust, I took a picture and sent it off to Jeremy to research online. Then I moved on to the rest of the body.

“Sorry, boss, no tracks.” I nearly jumped when P.T.’s voice interrupted my examination and broke my concentration. “Just a few scratches on the dumpster,” he added. “Looks like something big was inside, but nothing left behind from what I can tell.”

I continued my work, noting his report but not responding, until I came across something interesting lodged in the victim’s esophagus.

“Check this out,” I said, leaning in with a pair of tweezers to dislodge the object. What I pulled loose was not what I expected, and when I held up the bloodied metal thorn to show P.T. the look on his face mirrored my own sentiment.

“What the hell is that?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “but I’m willing to bet whoever or whatever killed this man left it behind.”

I put the thorn inside an evidence bag, and checked my phone. It was almost nine o’clock.

“We should get back to the others,” I said.

P.T. nodded, and helped me replace the sheet. As we made our way back to the cafe, I informed the cop we were done and he could let the detective know to have it cleaned up.

Chapter Three – The Observant Dr. Martin

We arrived back at the cafe just as Claire was exiting. The door opened with force and would have slammed into me if not for P.T.’s quick reflexes.

“Claire!” I reached out and grabbed for her arm as she passed by.

She started to pull from my grasp then realized who I was, and her cheeks turned pink. “Oh, sorry, River.”

“Where are you going?”

She pointed across the street as the homeless man turned a corner, and disappeared down an alleyway.

I considered it for just a moment. “Forget it,” I said with a wave of my hand. “We can always track him down later if need be.” I let go of her arm, and led her back inside. “Come on. We have a few things to discuss.”

We rejoined Jeremy, who remained focused on his laptop, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “Got something for you,” he said, turning the screen so I could see.

On the screen was a blurry picture from what looked like a security feed in a hospital. In it, there was an elderly man with a 1920’s fedora and a black overcoat pushing a woman in a wheel chair. She had nice clothes on, but was clearly unconscious. It was time-stamped 5:32 am that morning.

“Is that Miss Diamond?” I asked.

Jeremy nodded. “And the man behind her is Mr. Karst. He’s the one who checked her out. Unfortunately, this is the only camera shot of his face. There are some gaps in the feed that might have given us a better view, but the only other shots are from the rear.”

“Nice work,” I said. “What do we know about Mr. Karst?”

“Nothing,” Jeremy said. “Other than this picture, and a name on a piece of paper, there’s no evidence he exists.”

“Interesting.” I mulled the news over. “Well, there must be some record of who this man is. Keep digging.”

Jeremy nodded. “I may have more luck back at the office,” he said, meaning his own place. He was already closing up his laptop and grabbing his bag before I could respond.

“Right,” I said. “While you’re there, see what you can find out about any recent animal attacks in the area. I doubt there’ll be anything of interest, but we need to be thorough.”

“Got it,” he said, and headed for the door.

“Oh, and get me Miss Diamond’s address!” I called after him, drawing more attention then I meant to from the other patrons.

“Check your phone,” he called over his shoulder before heading out the door.

With an apologetic glance at the other patrons, I pulled out my phone and sure enough there was a text from Jeremy with the address. I shook my head in amusement. He always seemed to be one step ahead.

“Alright,” I said, showing the address to the others. “I need the two of you to head here and check it out. We need to know more about these victims, and whether there’s a connection or if these attacks are random.”

Claire and P.T. nodded in agreement, and left as I considered my next move. It might help to get a look at the other victims, and the coroner, Dr. Martin, always seemed to enjoy my visits so I decided make my way to the police station. It took a bus, a changeover and another bus to get there, but I was soon standing in front of the local police station. I went inside, and spotted Marlene who was standing nearby talking to a man in a suit who seemed to have a very serious expression upon his face. I waited for them to finish, then approached her.

“Marlene!”

She looked up, a harried expression upon her face. “River,” she said with some relief. “Got anything?”

“Some,” I said, then pointed to the man in the suit who was now heading out of the station. “Who’s that?”

“Oh,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He’s from the mayor’s office, and a royal pain in my ass. The sooner we can solve this the better.”

“Right. About that. I was hoping to talk to Rikki. Is she in?”

Marlene nodded. “Yea, actually she just got the late Mr. Sutton in so now is probably a good time to check in. Come on.”

She led me through a door in the back of the main foyer and down a variety of hallways and staircases until we reached the coroner’s office in the basement. The unfortunately named Dr. Rikki Martin was hunched over her latest victim.

“Hey, Rikki,” I said. She looked up, her eyes squinting against the harsh light of the hallway.

“River? I wondered when you’d come to see me. Come here, and take a look at this.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Marlene said from the doorway then scuttled off to attend to other matters.

I approached the metal table upon which laid the remains of Gary Sutton, his arms repositioned at his sides to make him look a little more normal. Rikki held a large magnifying glass, and pointed to the strange spiral marking on the victim’s forehead with an almost giddy look upon her face.

“You ever see anything like this?” She asked.

I peered at the symbol as if I’d never seen it before, and shook my head. “No, can’t say that I have. What do you make of it?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea what it means, but I can tell you something very sharp and thin made it, probably metallic.”

“Metallic?” My hand moved instinctively for the metal thorn in my pocket. “What makes you think that?”

“I found some flecks lodged in the grooves. I think it might be metal shavings or something, but I need to have them analyzed to be sure.”

“So, we can probably rule out an animal attack then?”

“Yea,” she said, then added with a shrug, “well, unofficially at least.” She put down her magnifying glass and turned away from the table. “That’s not all,” she said, and gestured for me to follow her to the back of the room where rows of small metal doors kept sealed the chambers for the bodies brought for her examination.

She opened one of the doors near the middle, and pulled out a rolling slab with another body on it. This one was even more ravaged than the auctioneer, with chunks of flesh bitten off and a strange growth upon his hip.

“Meet Mr. Elgen,” Rikki said.

“The first victim, right?” Rikki nodded, an expectant smile spreading across her face. She was testing me, as she often did. My eyes scoured the remains, my instinct telling me to look for a metal thorn, but when my eyes fell upon the victim’s forehead, I realized what she was expecting me to find. There was another carving upon the forehead, same as the last, though not as deep.

I pointed to it. “Another spiral carving.”

Rikki nodded in excitement. “Yes. Want to guess what I found on the third victim last night?”

“I’m gonna say a spiral carving,” I said.

Rikki laughed. “Indeed.” She was about to push the slab back inside the wall when I pointed out the strange goiter.

“What’s that?” I asked.

Rikki looked at it with a frown. “I’m not sure. I’ve been running tests on it, but they’ve been inconclusive. If you look closely, you can see it forming near one of the injuries. I suspect, but have not confirmed, that a poison was injected into the victim, and this is a reaction to that. So far I haven’t found any on Mr. Sutton, but the victim from last night had one as well.”

“Strange,” I said. “Did either of them leave any belongings behind?”

Rikki shook her head. “Nothing of consequence, but Mr. Sutton did. He had a laptop.”

My eyes went wide with surprise. “What? Why didn’t Marlene tell me?”

With a shrug, Rikki said, “Probably didn’t want you taking the evidence again.”

I frowned, and crossed my arms in annoyance. “Yea, well, if she wants me to solve this case, I need to know everything.”

“You can probably still get it, but uh,” she leaned in and lowered her voice conspiratorially, “I didn’t tell you okay?”

With a smile, I patted her on the shoulder and gave her a wink. “Tell me what?” Then I turned away and headed back out to find Marlene.

She was in her office, pouring over some paperwork. “Hey Marlene,” I said, knocking on the door jamb. “Any chance any of the victims left something interesting behind?”

She looked up at me with a hardened gaze, and held the stare for a few seconds before finally letting out a sigh. “Yes, you can borrow the laptop.” Then she pointed at me with one rigid finger. “But only for twenty four hours, you got it?”

I gave her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.” Then I made my way to evidence, and after sorting things out with the officer there, I took the laptop and left the station.

Chapter Four – Pizza Break

Claire’s face appeared on my phone’s screen looking haggard and wet.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

She looked away sheepishly. “Uh, nothing,” she said.

P.T. appeared behind her, a smile spread across his face wide as the freeway. “Hey, boss,” he said. “You should have seen her. Guy never knew what hit him.”

“What guy?” I asked, my eyes narrowing.

“No one we’ll ever hear from again.” That was Jeremy, who was conferenced in.

“Wait, he’s not dead is he?”

P.T. laughed. “No, no. He’s just going to have a massive headache when he wakes up.”

“And an email that strongly suggests he not try to track us down.” Jeremy’s tone suggested whatever had happened was well in hand, so I decided not to press.

“O-kay, then,” I said instead. “Did you find anything at the apartment?”

Claire turned her phone around so I could take in the alarmingly pink decor. Not an object in the room wasn’t pink, or at least contained a trace of pink. “My goodness,” I said. “This woman needs help.”

“Yes. Yes she does.” I could hear P.T. agreeing with my assessment from the background.

Claire’s face reappeared in the picture, and she was holding up an unsurprisingly pink journal. “She has a diary,” she said.

I nodded. “Anything useful?”

P.T. snagged the book from Claire’s hand and leafed through it, though they had clearly already read it. “Looks like the guy who died was a manager at her workplace, and she was only with him for the potential of upward mobility.”

“Who does she work for?”

P.T. shrugged. “Some law firm.”

“No connection to Lisak,” Jeremy cut in before I could ask.

“Okay, anything else?”

“I’m working on an algorithm using the three previous attacks to determine where the next attack is likely to be,” Jeremy said. “Oh, and that bum from earlier went into a church near the cafe.”

“Good,” I said. “Anything pop up on animal attacks?”

I could hear the sounds of paper shuffling from Jeremy’s end. “Yes, well, sort of. Turns out, there’s been a notable decline in animal attacks over the last few days, and a slight uptick in missing pet reports.”

“Hmmm….that probably doesn’t bode well for the pet owners,” I surmised. “Alright, Claire, why don’t you head home and change, and let’s meet up at the pizza place near the office.”

Jeremy groaned loudly. I knew he didn’t like leaving the comfy confines of his private office. “I have a laptop from our auctioneer that’s password protected.”

I wished I could have seen his face light up, but settled for the sudden exuberance in his voice. “Oh, yea? I mean….okay, I’ll see you for lunch then.” The connection clicked off before I let out a chuckle. Even Claire, in her ragged state, smiled before disconnecting.

I hailed a cab, and had it take me to the office. With some time before lunch I wanted to check out my library of ancient symbols to see if I could find anything regarding the strange spiral symbol, but I entered the pizza place defeated just a couple of hours later. Jeremy was already waiting for me, somewhat impatient by the looks of it, but when he saw my face he became concerned.

“Did something happen to the laptop?”

“What?” I said, then glanced down at the object in my hand. “Oh, no, it’s fine.” I handed it over to him, a relieved expression upon his face.

As I finished placing our order, P.T. and Claire arrived.

“Hey, boss,” P.T. said cheerily. Claire had fully changed and now had her hair up in a bun.

We rejoined Jeremy at the table, who was busy tapping away at the laptop’s keyboard.

“So, what do we know so far?” P.T. asked.

“Not much, really,” I said. “The victims don’t appear to have much in common other than being killed by the same creature, and having a spiral symbol carved into their foreheads. You find anything about that, Jeremy?”

Jeremy shook his head without looking up.

“Me neither,” I said. “We obviously still have some work to do. Maybe the other crime scenes will have more. Claire, do you think you could check them out?”

She nodded as the pizza arrived. Everyone except Jeremy took their slices as we continued to discuss the case.

“I could go check out the bum,” P.T. offered. “What did you say his name was, Jeremy…oh right, Tyler.”

Suddenly Jeremy slammed his fist against the table and cursed.

“Um..I’m sorry?” P.T. said, somewhat startled.

Jeremy looked up in surprise. “What?” Then he realized the impact his outburst had on the rest of us. “No, no, sorry. There’s a locked file on here. I almost had it, but then it locked me out. Stupid encryption. I’ll have to take this back to my office.”

He grumbled some more to himself as he put the laptop away and grabbed himself a slice.

“Were you able to find anything else?” I asked.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Yea, not sure if it’s relevant, but there was a file marked Lisak Auction Services. It contained some weird stuff about medieval code breaking, and some general occult and enlightenment texts from abbots written in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.”

“Anything about the spiral symbol?”

“Not that I saw, no, but a lot of it was in another language.”

“Okay,” I said, wondering what else could be in those files. “Let me know as soon as you get that file unlocked. It might be important. In the meantime, I’ll head over to the auction house and see what I can dig up.”

With a new plan in place, we finished our meals and headed out for some afternoon investigation.

Chapter Five – Lisak Auction Services

When I arrived at the auction house, I was more than a little surprised to find the front door ripped off, and a police detective standing out in front talking to a very unhappy man in a brown suit. I recognized the detective as Franc Huffler, a colleague of Marlene’s. I found him to be generally unpleasant and we rarely got along, but when I caught his eye he actually seemed relieved to see me.

“Ah, here’s the private investigator I was telling you about, Mr. Lisak,” Franc said, by way of introducing me.

I raised a questioning eyebrow his way, but tried to play it cool, figuring I needed information anyway and if helping Franc now meant smoother relations in the future, it might be worth the trouble.

“Hello, Mr. Lisak,” I said, stretching out my hand in greeting once I reached the top of the stairs. “My name’s River Benson.”

“Well, it’s about time,” he said, ignoring my offered hand. “I’ve been waiting days for someone competent to show up.” He then turned a withering glare towards the detective.

“Yes, sir,” I said. “If you could just wait for me inside, I’ll be with you in just a moment. I need to confer with the detective for a moment.”

The man gave me a look that said why do you need to talk to this idiot, but I gave him my most charming smile and after a moment he turned away stalked back inside.

I turned a stern look upon the detective. “What the hell, Franc? Offering my services to just anyone now?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, gesturing with his hands in an effort to diffuse the situation. “Look, Marlene said you might be coming around. Something to do with the case she’s on.”

I was a little surprised to hear that, but it made some sense that she expected I would want to talk to the victim’s employer.

“Anyway, yea, this happened four days ago, and we have no answers. Mr. Lisak isn’t happy as you can see, and I was hoping maybe you could help out a little bit.”

“And what do I get out of it?”

“Um,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck. “Free coffee at the station?”

I rolled my eyes. “How about the next time I show up at one of your crime scenes you show me a little bit more professional courtesy?”

He held his hands up in defeat, “Alright, alright. I’m sorry. Next time, I won’t be so quick to judge, I promise.”

I glared at him for another few moments just to see him squirm. The last time I appeared on a crime scene he was attending, he took one look at me and had me escorted, to put it kindly, off the premises.

“Okay, fine,” I said. A flicker of relief crossed his eyes. “What can you tell me?”

He shrugged. “Honestly, not much. It was late at night when the alarms went off, and by the time we arrived, there was no one here. They’ve reported nothing was taken, but there’s quite a mess inside.”

I took a look at the splintered door lying on the steps, and quickly ascertained that whoever did this must have burst out through the door rather than in.

“When did you say this happened?”

“Four days ago.”

“Interesting.” It seemed to line up with the first murder, though it was too early to tell if they were connected. “Alright, I’ll take a look around, and let you know if I come up with anything.”

“Thank you,” he said, already making his way back down the steps.

“But remember, Marlene’s case comes first, okay?”

“You got it.” Franc scurried off as quickly as he could.

With a heavy sigh, I stepped through the open entry. There wasn’t even crime tape, which just spoke to how lazy Franc was. Inside, though, was exactly as he said it was with overturned furniture, splintered wood, and loose paper littering the floor. Mr. Lisak was standing nearby looking anxious.

“Hello, Mr. Lisak. Sorry for the delay.”

“No, no, Miss Benson, it is I who should apologize. My behavior out there was–“

“Understandable,” I said, interjecting. He cracked a smile, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. “So, I understand nothing was taken. Is that correct?”

He nodded vigorously. “That is correct. We’ve accounted for everything, but as you can see we’ve been unable to clean up. The police haven’t wanted us to, and frankly it’s beginning to impact business.”

“I understand, Mr. Lisak.”

“Please. Call me Barton,” he said, reaching out a hand in greeting.

I took his hand and shook it. “Have they dusted for prints?”

He furrowed his brow in concentration. “I believe so, yes.”

I looked around, but there was nothing of obvious importance, and the forensics team would have collected anything of real value anyway. “Then I don’t see any reason you can’t start to get things back in order.”

“Oh, thank you, Miss Benson,” he said, already reaching for his phone.

At that moment, my own phone beeped in with a message. I excused myself to check it out, moving away for some privacy. It was a text from Jeremy stating he had unlocked the hidden folder and found a darknet account linked to the purchase of a stolen Romanian text about Dragenesti. I thanked him, and asked him to look into the book a bit more.

“Mr…I mean Barton,” I said, drawing Mr. Lisak away from his phone call. “Do you have anything here from Romania, or possibly regarding Dragenesti?”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Yes, why do you ask?”

“It has to do with another case I’m working. One involving one of your employees.”

“Oh, I see,” he said. “One moment, please.” He turned away, and spoke into his phone, too quiet for me to hear, then shut it off and gestured for me to follow.

“I assume you are referring to poor Gary, yes?”

“I am,” I said.

He shook his head and sighed. “Terrible business, that.” Then his eyes widened and he turned to face me. “You don’t think these two things are related do you?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say at this time. Both investigations are still ongoing. I’m sure you understand.”

“Oh yes, of course.” He led me through a heavy steel door into a darkened room where book shelves were smashed, their contents spilled to the floor, and several antiques lay scattered about, appearing somehow unharmed. An ancient but sturdy wardrobe stood against the back wall, both doors hanging open.

“This is our storeroom,” Barton said. “Gary had recently acquired most of these items, but we haven’t yet had time to catalog them.” He shook his head in dismay. “I hope nothing was broken.”

“Did he often focus on antiques from Romania?”

“Not solely, but yes. I guess you could say it was a passion of his. We do a surprisingly strong business with these items, too.”

“Okay, thank you, Barton,” I said. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a look around.”

“Of course, of course,” he said. “Take all the time you need.” He took out his phone, and headed back out through the door.

My attention was drawn immediately to the one piece not tipped over or lying on the ground, the wardrobe. It was in immaculate condition, though clearly quite old, and was decorated with strange and intricate designs. After a moment of study, I realized they were of Christian design, and were heavily indicative of the occult.

I quickly scanned the other items, and while they seemed to come from the same area of the world, they provided no additional information. Then I examined the steel door used to seal the entrance, which had deep scratches on the surface facing into the room. The heavy latch to hold the door shut was also bent outward, suggesting whatever had gone through was very powerful and clearly burst out from inside the room. With no other entrances or exits, it seemed apparent that whatever caused all the damage hadn’t broken in, but rather had been trying to escape.

Chapter Six – Mysterious Messages

Outside the auction house, I called Claire. She didn’t answer, so I tried P.T. instead.

“Hey, boss,” he answered with his usual cheerfulness.

“Hey, P.T.,” I said. “Any luck at the church?”

I could almost hear him shrug. “Not really. Taylor, or as he likes to call himself, Captain, doesn’t know much, but he did say Bob was a prideful man who had recently begun talking about a cleansing, as he put it. Sounds like he was a bit of a quack, if you ask me.”

“Yea, maybe,” I said. “Where are you now?”

“At the shopping center. In fact, I was just about to call you. Found something interesting.”

Behind the shopping center was the site of the third crime. “Yea? What’s that?”

“There are strange claw marks at the top of the building here, like maybe something jumped up, and had to scramble their way up to the roof. I’m looking for a way up to check it out now.”

“Good idea,” I said, “but be careful. Whatever this thing is busted through a steel door at the auction house.”

“Really?” he said, sounding a bit surprised.

“Yea. Hey, have you heard from Claire? I tried to call her, but she didn’t answer.”

“No, actually, I came here expecting to meet up with her. No sign of her, though.”

“Hmm. Okay, she’s probably at the museum then. Why don’t you finish up, head on over, and I’ll meet you there.”

“You got it.”

I disconnected the call, and hailed a cab to get me over to where I hoped Claire would be. It wasn’t like her not to answer her phone, and I was starting to get a little nervous. On the way, I received another text from Jeremy indicating the name of the book was Purgatory. It wasn’t clear yet how that connected to Dragonesti, if it did, but it was something to ponder.

A few minutes later, the cab dropped me off at the Wonders of the World Museum, near where the first victim was found. I went around back and Claire with her arm inside a drainage ditch, her face red from effort.

I walked up to her. “What are you doing?”

“Hold on,” she grunted through the strain. Then she pulled her arm out and with it came one of her nightsticks with a key attached to the end by a wad of gum.

“What’s that?” I asked, immediately realizing how stupid that sounded.

Claire, though, simply shrugged. “Dunno. Found it down there next to some splattered blood.”

Then her phone rang, but she made no move to answer it. I looked at her, and she looked at the ditch. I followed her gaze, and realized her phone was merrily singing its tune just out of reach at the bottom of the ditch. I stifled a laugh.

“I guess I’d better take a picture of this and send it off to Jeremy. Maybe he can tell us something about it.”

P.T. arrived a few moments later. “Oh, there you are,” he said upon seeing Claire. “I’ve been calling you.”

Claire looked at him apologetically. “Sorry about that. I dropped my phone.” She pointed towards the ditch.

“Oh, man, that sucks,” he said.

Jeremy texted back that he would look into the key, and added that his algorithm had completed, predicting the next attack to take place somewhere on Columbus Avenue, between 11th and Lincoln. I informed the others, and P.T. nodded, saying that the tracks he found on the roof appeared to be headed in the same general direction.

Claire pointed to a nearby fire escape. “There was a trail on the roofs here, too, also going that way, and there was a word carved into the side of the building.”

“Really?” I said. “Show me.”

Claire took us over to where she found the carving, which could easily have been made by the same claw that scratched the steel door at the auction house and sliced through Gary Sutton’s throat. The scrawling etched into the building read penitence.

I stared at the word, letting it roll over in my mind. Penitence, Purgatory, Cleansing. The words were starting to fit together, but I wasn’t quite sure how yet.

My phone rang. It was Jeremy. He had received a text from Mr. Karst telling him to “close the inapposite gate”.

“What does that mean,” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I tried to trace his number, but it’s already gone.”

“I see. Anything else?”

“Yes. You haven’t by any chance come across a wardrobe or anything, have you?”

My interest was piqued. “As a matter of fact, yes. How did you know?”

“That key you found. It goes to a wardrobe that belonged to a count of Dragonesti six hundred years ago. It’s said he summoned an army of demons to repel an Ottoman invasion, and that he’s a master code-writer.”

“Does it say how he summoned the army?”

“Not explicitly, but it heavily references the wardrobe so maybe he’s supposed to have used it as some sort of gate?”

“What’s up,” P.T. interjected. “An army?”

“I gotta go, Jeremy. Keep digging. I think we’re getting close.”

“What was that about?” P.T. asked after I hung up.

“I’m not sure, yet, but it sounds like someone wants us to think a demon escaped the wardrobe and is wreaking havoc on the city.”

“Interesting,” P.T. said with a mix of confusion and nervousness.

I quickly explained the phone call, and caught them up on everything I was thinking. While we all agreed it was unlikely a demon had come through the wardrobe, we still didn’t know exactly what was happening. To that end, we decided to make our way to Columbus Ave, which was only a few blocks away.

Chapter Seven – America’s Finest Products

We arrived on Columbus Avenue a short while later, coming out next to an animal shelter for exotic pets. Across the street was a warehouse built with sheet metal walls and a slanted white roof. A variety of trucks laid dormant in the lot around the building, and an old battered sign marked ‘America’s Finest Products’ hung loose near the entrance of the surrounding fence.

We headed into the animal shelter where a middle-aged woman with graying hair stood behind the counter. Her name tag read Jane. She smiled brightly, and informed us she was closing up for the evening. I checked my watch and noted the still early hour.

“Why so early?” I asked.

Her smile faded as she shuffled her feet from side to side. “Slow day today,” she said.

“I see,” I said, trying my best to throw her a disarming smile. “Well, we aren’t here for the animals anyway.” She glanced nervously at each of us in turn until I produce my P.I. badge. Her eyes widened.

“Hello. My name is River Benson, and these are my associates Claire and P.T.,” I said. “We were hoping to ask you a few questions.”

She took a slight step back. “S-sure. What is this about? I assure you none of my pets were brought here illegally.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s the case,” I said. “We’re not here about your animals.” I paused a moment as a thought crossed my mind. “Unless any of them happened to get out recently…” I let my voice trail off.

Jane shook her head with vigor, “No, we keep all our pets safely secured in the back. None of them have ever escaped, I assure you.”

“Very good,” I said. “I’m sorry for the question, but I had to ask. You see there’s been a…problem recently with some animal attacks. We think the animal may be nearby. Have you heard anything out of the ordinary in the last few days?”

Her eyes darted around the room, taking each of us in, then she let out a resigned sigh. “Yes. I’m sorry, I just…it was so weird. Like nothing I’ve ever heard before.”

“Go on,” I urged her.

“Well, I was here late last night, and just before I closed up I heard this strange howl from across the street. I’ve never heard anything like it. It was deep and resonating, and sounded awful, like something was dying. Then there was the sound of tearing metal. I got out of here as fast as I could. I don’t know how I mustered the courage to come back today, but I’m not waiting ’til dark tonight, I can tell you that.”

“Across the street,” I said, pointing out the window. “You mean the warehouse?”

She nodded. I thanked her for her help, and we headed back outside.

“Alright, let’s check this place out,” I said.

We went across the street and pushed through the fence, the padlock having long been too rusted to be of use.

“Over there,” P.T. said, pointing to the corner of the building where a large hole had clearly been torn into the wall.

“Hmm…well, that’s foreboding,” I said, rubbing my chin. “Whatever did that is powerful. We’ll need something to contain it if we’re able to catch it.”

“How about one of these trucks,” Claire suggested.

I took a dubious look at our options. Many of the tires were flat, and they all looked as though they hadn’t been used in years. “Maybe,” I said. “Let’s check for keys.”

We split up and checked each truck, but there were no keys. We reconvened, and I decided to call Detective Rodriguez, who answered right away.

“Hey, River,” she said. “What’ve you got?”

“A location, but…” My voice trailed off as I considered how to handle this.

“What?” she said, her voice not lacking in concern.

“Well, whatever this thing is, it isn’t small. We might need some help containing it, like say…an armored truck perhaps?”

If she’d had any coffee in her mouth, I could imagine her spitting it out. “What? Are you serious? How am I supposed to get approval for that?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I might know a guy who could help out.”

I could hear the scorn in Marlene’s voice. “I’m sure you do. Listen, why don’t I just meet you…where are you?”

“Uh, well, you see Marlene, I think this might be a bit of a delicate situation. I’m not sure it’s in the best interest of the Santa Monica Police Department to have a presence on scene.”

“Oh, but it’s okay to have one of our armored trucks?”

“I’ll have it back to you before you know it,” I said.

There was a long silence on the other end, and then finally a resigned sigh. “I’ll see what I can do. Text me the location.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Marlene, I–” The sound of the phone disconnecting interrupted me, and I put in another call, this time to Jeremy.

“Jeremy, hey, I have a favor to ask,” I said when he picked up.

“Of course you do,” he said. “What is it this time?”

“Well, we could really use an armored truck. Think maybe you could help push the electronic paper work through for Marlene?”

“Sure, what’s another illegal activity in the name of investigation,” he said, sarcasm dripping with every word.

“Thanks, Jeremy. You’re the best.”

“I expect a raise for this.”

After we hung up, the three of us discussed strategy. Claire and P.T. would enter the building while I remained outside in case the creature came through a different exit. We’d back the truck up to the hole in the wall in the hopes the creature could be lured there.

During our discussion, Jeremy texted me with information about Purgatory. The book title was in reference to Dante’s Purgatorio, which clicked an old memory of mine.

“Of course,” I said. “The symbol is a top-down view of Dante’s Mt. Purgatory.”

Claire and P.T. gave me strange looks, and more questions arose as I considered this new information. A small part of me wondered if this creature really did come through a gate somehow opened within the wardrobe. I pushed the thought aside, and focused on more immediate concerns.

A few hours later, after we had a small snack at a nearby deli, the armored truck arrived. The officer who dropped it off refused to look at us as he exited the vehicle, entered a following cruiser, and left the scene.

“Not much for small talk,” P.T. remarked.

I shrugged. “Probably better that way. Come on, let’s get this thing into position.”

Claire backed the truck up while P.T. and I put on the Kevlar vests we found in the back. Claire declined her own, preferring not to be weighed down by armor, but each of us did take a shock rod. I also patted my waist where I keep my gun just to remind myself I still had it.

I turned and looked at the others once we were all in position. “You ready?”

Claire nodded, and, with flashlight in hand, ducked through the torn opening, P.T. close behind. I waited, shock stick in hand, and my senses alert. Soon there came the sound of popping, like a light bulb blowing a fuse, and a dim light filtered through the opening from inside. A moment later, there was a loud bang, like someone slamming up against a wall, then a strange guttural sound of someone, or something, speaking in a strange tongue.

I rushed into the warehouse, and searched for the source of those sounds, following them to the bright light of Claire’s flashlight bobbing down a long hallway beyond a large open room. P.T. stood against the wall of the hallway, one arm hanging limp, while Claire ducked and dodged the swipes of a towering gray creature with curved horns, large bat-like ears, and wicked claws that gleamed in the light.

Claire shined her flashlight in the monster’s eyes, and it roared in defiance. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, I pulled out my gun and fired off a shot, but the bullet just exploded off the creature’s thick skin. P.T. dodged past the creature, but slipped on it’s long tail and tumbled to the ground. Claire took a swing at the creature’s back, but the shock rod just glanced off it’s tough exterior.

I fired off another shot, this time hitting it in the side of the face, eliciting a shriek of pain, but it quickly recovered and lunged after P.T. as he scrambled back to his feet. Those claws ripped through P.T.’s kevlar armor and bit into his back, sending P.T. stumbling forward.

The creature continued to lumber after him, but Claire leaped after it, bouncing off a nearby table and launching herself towards it and lashing out with her shock rod. Her aim was true as it struck the creature in the back of the head. The creature howled in pain and stumbled forward. I dropped my gun and rushed forward to strike at it with my own shock rod, hitting it again and again. Finally, the creature went down, shuddered once, then laid still.

Chapter Eight – Closing the Inapposite Gate

“What the hell is that thing?” P.T.’s voice cracked just a little as he continued to back away from the seemingly lifeless creature. “Please tell me it’s dead.”

I prodded it with my shock rod while Claire stood nearby eyeing the creature with a hard stare. It didn’t stir, so I knelt down and checked it’s mouth.

“It doesn’t seem to be breathing,” I said. “I suspect it’s dead.”

“Suspect?”

“Well, if it breathes, it’s definitely dead,” I said, my brow furrowed. Something about this creature tugged at a memory.

“We should put it in the truck,” Claire said. “Just in case.”

I was pretty sure it was dead, but I didn’t argue the point. Together, Claire and I lifted while P.T. removed his armor, his back beginning to swell where he’d been struck. After we finished and closed the doors, I turned back to peer into the warehouse.

“We should check this place out. If it was using this as his lair, there might something here to give us an idea of where it came from.”

P.T. groaned in mild protest, and offered to stay in the truck while Claire and I checked it out. A few minutes later we spotted a nest in the rafters. Claire climbed up to check it out, discovering the book Purgatory Jeremy had mentioned earlier.

“We should get P.T. to a hospital,” she said after climbing back down and handing me the book.

I nodded in agreement. “You drive,” I said.

Claire climbed into the driver’s seat next to P.T. while I joined the creature in back. A piece of paper fell as I opened the book. I picked it up, and read it aloud.

“Perform the ritual again; close the inapposite gate, or the recursion will continue to invade.”

“What’s that, boss?” P.T. leaned to look back. Our eyes met, and suddenly everything clicked.

“Oh my God,” I said. “It’s a Flagellatus!”

“A what?” he said.

“Nevermind. Claire, get us to the auction house, now!”

“But P.T.–“

“There’s no time,” I cut her off. “We need to hurry.”

P.T. looked at Claire and shrugged. “I’m ok. Let’s go.”

Claire continued down the road, bypassing the turn towards the hospital while I rifled through the book in my hand. My Romanian was rusty, but I could read enough of the words for it to make sense.

“Ha,” I exclaimed when I found what I was looking for. “Here it is. P.T., hand me my bag,” I said. He tossed it back, and I pulled out a notebook and pen so I could start translating the ritual text from the book.

The sun was down when we arrived at the auction house. A police officer stood out front, looking bored. I jumped out the back of the truck, and ran up to him before he could peer inside.

“Go get Detective Rodriguez,” I told him. “She’s gonna need to see this.”

He pulled out his phone, but I put a hand out to stop him.

“No,” I said. “Go get her. Now.”

He looked at me confused, and seemed about to protest, then shrugged and hustled off. P.T. opened the doors to the back of the truck, and Claire and I pulled the body out and carried it inside to the room with the wardrobe.

“Here,” I said while handing out the pages of incantations I had transcribed, “take these. We need to perform a ritual to close the gate before more of these things come through.”

“Wait,” P.T. said, “you mean there are more of these things?”

“Maybe,” I said, “Or maybe something worse.”

He stared at me blankly for a moment, then nodded. “Ok, boss, let’s do this.”

We took up positions in an impromptu circle around the creature, and I began the ritual. P.T. and Claire soon joined in. Just as we were about to finish, the nagging feeling of doubt I’d been repressing punched through my mental barrier and turned that doubt into full blown fright. I screamed as the lights dimmed, and the ground shook.

Then it was as if the floor fell away, and we were floating in space. A swirl of light erupted from the wardrobe in a spiral of rainbow colors. For what felt like an eternity we floated in the air, caught in the grip of some invisible hand, then were pulled through, our silent screams following us into a nightmarish whirlpool of rainbows and sparkling lights.

Then suddenly it was over. We landed on our feet upon the shores of an ocean, foams of dark purple waves lapping at our feet. Lightning crackled in the distance, illuminating dark red clouds floating in the sky above. I turned towards the others, and jumped back with a start. I knew it was Claire by her eyes, but that was where the similarities of my friend and this thing before me ended.

Green iridescent wings protruded from her shoulder blades, and in her hands she held a giant great sword. I looked to P.T. who was staring at his own hands as if he’d never seen them before. He, too, looked angelic, but was also a little blurry like he wasn’t really standing where he appeared to be standing. I looked at myself, and saw the same features, but there was also a slight glow about me.

Beyond the beach was a forest of deciduous trees, over which towered the massive rock face of a majestic mountainside leading up to a singular peak, as dark and purple as the waves at our feet. It was hot and humid, and my hands felt clammy, but my focus was on the mountain before me, my eyes as wide as saucers.

“Purgatory,” I breathed, the word escaping my lips as though they were a prison.

Claire and P.T. followed my gaze, and the three of us just stared in wonder, with no idea of what we should be thinking in that moment.