Jessica looked up from the body of a short, stocky man with a fuzzy halo of graying hair encircling his temples and beckoned me closer, pointing to the inside of the man’s mouth. I leaned in.
“You see these?” Jessica pointed a gloved finger at the burns inside the mouth.
“More cigarette burns. When did this guy die?”
“They found the body this morning. But from the look of Mr. Campbell, he probably died the day before, maybe late the previous night. He had a do not disturb sign on his door, but the staff found him when he failed to check out on time.”
“How did we get him away from the cops? There is no mistaking this one for a natural death.”
I stepped away from the corpse, far enough to take the whole thing in. The burns were not limited to the mouth, this time. They were all up and down his legs, his arms, his torso. And they weren’t just cigarette burns anymore. There were some of those too, of course. But she had added something new to her arsenal. Something that caused the skin to blacken and blister in large patches.
“I don’t ask how they do these things,” Jessica shrugged. “I suspect the higher ups have people in the cops, the medical examiners. You know how they operate. Agents in every level, secret deals with the right people. A few ubarae on call to smooth over any rough patches.”
“Being the only ones with access to that particular resource does make things easier.”
Jessica murmured her assent, while examined the burns on Charlie Campbell’s legs.
“What do you think caused those? Not a cigarette, obviously.”
“No, not a cigarette. Something that burns much hotter,” Jess palpated one of the patches, it crackled in a way that was a bit sickening. “Some kind of lighter or maybe a small torch. Seems cigarettes weren’t enough for her anymore.”
“Obviously not. She is pushing her limits, seeing how much pain she can cause them. And she is accelerating. It has only been a few days since her last victim. She must be hunting all the time, now. Hooked on the pain.”
“You any closer to finding her?”
“Sadly, no. I have had 10 or so dates now, all ordinary women.”
“Who were looking for casual sex with a married stranger.”
“Fairly common, as it turns out. And canvassing hotels has been a big waste of time. Even when someone has seen her, they never remember much, and she is always long gone by the time I get there. I am spinning my wheels here, Jessi. Is there anything on the body that can help?”
“Nothing I have found yet, Ray. I’m sorry. Just a lot of burns on a dead man.”
“It’s alright, it just means that I need to work a bit harder for it.”
“Harder, huh? You already look like you have been ridden hard and put away wet. Have you been sleeping at all?”
I had to smile. Jessica had a variety of colorful, homespun expressions like that. You can take the girl out of Texas…
“Sleep? Who needs sleep when you have a friend who can write prescriptions for amphetamines,” I waggled my eyebrows, joking, for the most part.
“If you need a prescription for anything it would be sleeping pills,” Jessica snorted.
She was always harassing me about my sleep schedule. Doctors could be so fussy.
“How about you just sign a blank ‘script for me and I’ll decide what I need when the time comes.”
Jessica rolled her eyes emphatically,
“You need to start living better. You aren’t a 20-year-old kid anymore.”
“Nope, I’m a 30-year-old kid. And I can sleep when I’m dead.”
“Which will be very soon, if you keep this up.”
“Not as soon as our girl’s next victim, if I don’t find her first. You want another body like this on your table?”
Jessica looked down at the mutilated corpse and shook her head slowly.
“Exactly. I’m going to hit the streets. Call me if you find anything else, alright?”
“Right, Ray. Good luck out there.”
“I’ll be back for that prescription.”
Jessica gave me a dirty look and I hurried back out into the hallway, the stainless-steel doors swinging shut silently behind me. The latest victim, Charlie Campbell, had been found at the Regent, again. The only play that I had right now was to go there, and see what people knew. Because I sure as shit didn’t know anything. Not enough, anyway. I needed a break. In both senses of the term.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The weary-looking man at the hotel check-in counter barely looked up when I approached.
“What can I do for you, ma’am?” he mumbled.
I pulled out a badge, flashed it briefly. It was fake, of course, but most people didn’t look too closely.
“I have questions about Charlie Campbell.”
I didn’t use the cop ruse often, too risky. Normally, I could get plenty of information without calling this much attention to myself. But normally the deaths I investigated appeared natural. This man had been obviously tortured and murdered, and everyone here knew it. They wouldn’t gossip about it to a stranger, and trying would only make them suspicious. I needed an official reason to ask about him. A reason for them to cooperate. And since the real cops wouldn’t be coming by on this one, it was worth the risk.
“Of course, I was wondering when you guys would get here. I’m the manager, Nigel Montgomery. Nothing like this has ever happened before at the Regent.”
Nigel wrung his hands, he looked drawn and haggard, and given that he was already a slim man, it meant that he was practically skeletal at the moment.
“Let’s start at the beginning, when did Mr. Campbell check in?”
Nigel tapped a few keys on his computer,
“He checked in on Thursday, last week. Alone.”
“Did anyone in your employ see him go to his room with a woman?”
“My god, you think a woman could have done that?” Nigel mopped his brow with a handkerchief. “We sent the surveillance tapes from the night of his death to your offices, if there was anyone, they would have been on the cameras.”
The tech guys had already gone over it. There wasn’t anything useful. She wore a large hat with a floppy brim and was careful to avoid looking at the cameras. She knew what she was doing.
“You would be surprised at what women can do, Mr. Montgomery,” I smiled, tightly. “We do have the surveillance, but I was hoping to speak to someone who might have seen them together. Is there anyone here who was there at the time?”
“Maybe Steve, in maintenance,” Nigel chewed his lip. “He would have been up on that floor at around the right time, fixing a broken light in the hallway. He should have had a clear view of Mr. Campbell’s room.”
“Is he here, can I speak to him?”
“I will call him down to the lobby right away. We will do anything to help with the investigation. This was just such a terrible thing.”
“Yes, it was.”
Nigel paged Steve and while we waited for him to arrive, I killed time asking the manager questions that seemed cop-like. Had he paid with a credit card? Had he seemed afraid or upset when he checked in? Who had found the body? Why had it taken so long to find the body? I solemnly noted his answers in a little notebook, though none of it was particularly helpful. I needed to play the part. Finally, a man wearing blue coveralls and a large tool belt entered the lobby. He headed over to the counter. I thanked Nigel and moved to intercept Steve. I flashed my badge and led him over to a deserted corner of the lobby where we could talk privately.
“What can I do for you, officer?”
“Detective,” I corrected. If I was an officer, I would have been in uniform. “I wanted to ask you about Charlie Campbell.”
“The murdered dude?” he raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, the murdered dude,” I sighed. This guy was going to be a terrible witness. His eyes were bloodshot, he smelled like weed and he had been starring at my breasts from the moment we started talking. Classy. “Your manager says you might have seen him enter his room with a woman, the night he died. You would have been on his floor, fixing a light?”
“Was that the night he died? Whoa, so I was what, the last person to see him alive?”
“Other than his killer.”
“I didn’t kill him!”
“I didn’t say that you did. Did you see him with anyone that night?”
“Oh, yeah,” he grinned. “When I saw him, he was with this hot chick. She must have been a pro.”
“Why do you say that?”
“A woman like that with a guy like him? No way he wasn’t paying her,” Steve laughed. “I would have given her a much better time.”
“You know that she probably killed that man, after she tortured him, right?”
Steve seemed to ponder that for a moment,
“Look, you didn’t see her. It would have been worth it.”
I rolled my eyes. Hormones were a hell of a drug.
“Can you describe her to me?”
“I can do better than that,” Steve fumbled his phone out of his tool belt. “I took a picture, you know, when she wasn’t looking. For… personal use.”
Eww. Still, Steve the pervert was the best luck I had had all day. He turned his phone around revealed a lovely shot he had clearly taken from up on the ladder, working on the lights, because it was pointed directly down her cleavage. Still, you could see part of her face on the top corner of the picture, the angle was unblocked by the hat. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something.
“Can you send that to me?”
Steve nodded. I gave him the number to my disposable cell, and he sent me the picture.
“You have been a big help, Steve. Thanks.”
“Hey, if you really want to thank me, when you find that girl, give her my number, eh?”
“Sure, Steve. I’ll be sure to do that.”
If only he knew what he was asking. Then again, it might not change anything. Succubae could have that effect on people, when they wanted to. Closing my little notebook, I turned and headed out of the lobby. I had a call to make.
“Tom, did you get the photo I just sent?”
“Yeah. Personally, I would have focused on the face, but you’re the investigator.”
“I didn’t take the picture, dipshit. Can you use it to improve our search?”
“Already working on it. Dipshit?”
“It’s been a long week, alright?”
“Uh huh,” I could hear him smirking though the phone. “I’ll get back to you when I have something.”
It didn’t take as long as I would have thought. I finished looking around the Regent and was talking to the last member of the staff that had been on duty that night when my phone rang. Excusing myself, I found a private place to answer.
“Where are you right now?” Tom didn’t even let me get out a greeting.
“Still at the Regent. Why?”
“How fast can you get back to the Hilton?”
“I don’t know, city traffic, maybe 15 minutes. 20 if I catch a lot of reds.”
“You need to get there in…” he paused, consulting something, “8 minutes.”
“Shit, why?” I was already heading for my car.
“I went through some profiles, using that photo as a reference, I sent messages to three women who most closely matched the picture. One got back to me right away. Goes by Carla. She fits the profile. New account, she’s smoking a cigarette in the photo. She wants to meet, but only if you can meet her in the lobby in ten minutes. Well, 7 minutes, now.”
“That is promising,” as we talked, I eased out into traffic, which wasn’t promising at the moment.
“Yeah. Almost like someone trying to avoid a trap. Wants to make sure she is only meeting people who are really staying in the hotel. Think you can get there in time?”
“Only one way to find out,” I cut off a guy in a cherry red Porsche, he gave me the finger and leaned on his horn.
“Try not to get yourself killed on the way there.”
“Now you sound like Jessica,” I pulled through a very stale yellow and barely avoided a cyclist. I checked my watch, not enough time.
“Jessica is a smart girl. You should listen to her more.”
“Uh huh. Well fuck you too, buddy,” I mumbled at the driver giving me the finger.
“Four minutes.”
“I know,” I gritted my teeth and gripped the wheel tighter. I needed to hurry, this might be the best chance we would get, I couldn’t waste it.