Lā shǐ. Lā shǐ. Lā shǐ. Lā shǐ. LĀ SHǏ! Kira cursed ‘shit’ in Chinese as she looked beyond the police tape with hands shoved in her pockets. Her stress almost at its limit she looked on at the most recent murders that lay before her in downtown Toronto. Their bodies had been posed like the Pietà, a famous statue that was carved by Michelangelo in Florance. What made this discovery worse was that the bodies were found in St Mary’s Church.

Blood pooled around the chair as the man’s legs and neck were tied, his torso cut open for the world to see with several organs missing. While the woman, whose torso was of a similar state, also had her legs missing below the knee, it wasn’t obvious at first because of the cloth that was draped in her lap.

It had been a week, one week, since the last murder, on top of which they were still dealing with the arson from Karen Crock’s home, the supposed Ghost Woman killer and the recent case on that, the discovery that Lauren Davenport had been abused by her family, while her brother and father’s remains were found on the border of Canada and the US, and now, for some reason, the killer decided to stage this body in a public place. A church. When this killer, that bastard, had never gone back to revisiting something he already had done before.

And now this.

Fuck.

Goodbye, much-needed sleep.

“Song,” Freddie called to her from beyond the tape, waving her over. She motioned the cross before ducking under the tape, she joined her partner. “You’re later than normal, traffic?”

“Murder, like always.” She glanced at the bodies in question. She knew right away that it had to have been by Cadavre Exquis, there wasn’t another killer who was known for posing bodies in artistic displays. Unless it was some sick copycat. “Who are they?”

“Miriana and Giovanni Sarto, owned and ran Sarto Tailor’s, making clothing, suits, dresses and the like. Considered to be very high quality. Think bespoke.”

“Too rich for my blood,” Kira muttered. “Who found them?”

Freddie indicated while looking at his notes. Kira looked where Freddie pointed seeing a Nun and a young man with a thin build and dirty blond hair, dressed in pinstriped pants with suspenders, a white dress shirt that had the first top buttons undone, and fingerless gloves. His eyes were a rich green as he scowled at the police, uncomfortable with being around them.

The Nun was of dark skin, with a small stout figure, just at five feet in height with a plump figure dressed in the traditional garb of those who chose such a religious path.

“They found the bodies, called when they realized that they were dead.”

“Any idea how they died? Besides the obvious organ removal.” Kira asked Liam who removed a thermometer from the man’s body before standing from a squat.

“Well, I can tell you the possible time of death for the man, the woman will be a little harder to judge since her liver’s been taken. Though judging by both of them, it’ll be hard to know what killed them until we get them back at the precinct, but… given who might have done this… it’s probably not hard to guess.”

“He’s probably killed them around the same time.” Freddie offered.

Liam looked at the bodies in question. “But why though? Normally he doesn’t do this… at least… not so soon after the last kill.” When Kira gave a questioning look, he added. “Well, from the files I’ve read that we have on this wingnut.” He then leaned closer to get a better look at the bodies. “Has he killed people almost back-to-back before?” when there wasn’t a response he asked. “What?”

“A few times,” Kira replied. “Cadavre Exquis has done this over the years to multiple people. Usually close to bigger events happening in the year, like Thanksgiving, and Christmas. And on a rare occasion at some other time in the year. Though even then it’s hard to know just how many he’s killed in a single year.”

“Does he not normally kill more than two or three people?”

“In batches of three yes, but not so close back-to-back like this.”

Liam’s face scrunched up. “Why did I not know that?”

Freddie placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “You were still in university when this came to light. And a number of these cases don’t get out to the public.”

“Still…” he looked to the two deceased posed like statues. “Why do this? What’s the point of even posing them like this? Or even at all like at that house fire?”

A question that would never seem to get answered. At least to Kira.

Liam shook his head. “Anyway, I know we have a job to do. And I don’t envy what you guys have to do next, regarding next of kin. I think I’d have a nervous breakdown if it were me.”

“You work in the morgue Liam,” Kira responded.

He gave her a dull stare. “Talking to the dead is easier than talking to the living. They don’t talk back, but the answers they give are far more in-depth than anything that could have been spoken aloud.”

“I’d hate to know what you’d find from poking around in my guts.” Freddie joked to which Liam snorted with a half-smile.

“Probably a cloistral problem, given all those burritos you eat.”

“Hey, don’t disrespect Jože’s food, or else I won’t get you those tamales you found yourself liking so much for those late-night shifts.”

Kira then silently excused herself as she went to go and question the two who found the bodies. “Excuse me,” she said when she approached, holding her ID for them to see. “There are some questions I’d like to ask if you don’t mind.”

The Nun stepped closer with her hand extended, wanting a closer look at Kira’s identification, something that Kira wasn’t surprised by since some wanted to be aptly sure that Kira was a real police officer.

“Kyrie Song,” the Nun read Kira’s ID, as Kira inwardly cringed, the Nun looked up in surprise. “Is your first name in reference to the Christian prayer, meaning “Lord, have mercy”? Are your parents religious?”

“My mother is, she’s pretty devout, used to take us here every Sunday. My dad had no issue since he thought it worked well with our last name even though he had his own beliefs. Even made a dad joke about it.”

The Nun smiled even with such a horrible situation as she handed Kira back the ID. “A good father would,” her smile vanished when looking at the bodies as they were now being moved to a gurney. “It’s truly horrible that this happened within the house of God. What kind of person would do such a thing?”

“I keep tellin’ ya Ruth, those folks hated a lot of people, claimin’ it was in their beliefs as a “proper Christian” an’ shit. An’ look where it got’em.”

“Anthony, don’t say that.”

Kira looked at the man named Anthony. The look of contempt on his face was clear, he did not like those who were like her, part of the police force. He must have had some bad run-ins, at least that’s what she could guess. And with his build and rather feminine looks, he could easily be mistaken for a woman.

She immediately thought of Alastor and inwardly cringed. Kira just hoped this younger guy wasn’t at all like Alastor. Though given this guy’s speech she probably had nothing to worry about. If anything, he sounded like he had a bit of an Italian accent, as he was originally from Little Italy? What was he doing all the way here?

“Did you know the deceased, Mr…?”

“Anthony,” the man says as he narrowed his eyes on Kira. “Just Anthony.”

Kira frowned, but her attention was then brought to Sister Ruth who looked at Anthony with a faint saddened expression before answering. “We knew of them, they own a clothing store, making tailor-made suits, but…”

“Yes?”

“They weren’t the nicest of folks, on the outside they’d be polite to you, but I’ve heard the wife say some terrible things about customers or just people walking by. But we’ve never interacted with them.” Her gaze went back to the bodies. “I never expected to see them here like this, though.”

“Sista’ don’t ya remember? Last month?” Anthony spoke up before Kira could continue her line of questioning. “Yous asked for my help in the market because you couldn’t find somthin’ that ya were lookin’ for.”

A light of realization reached her eyes. “Oh, yes, to make dinner for the women’s shelter. Across the street, there was a commotion, all that shouting from that man.”

Kira was unable to hide her scowl as she listened to the back and forth between the two. “What man are you referring to?”

“The dead one,” Anthony answered. “Well, he wasn’t dead then, but he was bein’ a prick to a kid, saying some nasty things about ‘em.”

“Why?”

“Because she was in a wheelchair,” Sister Ruth said. “That man was shouting such horrible things, saying that “children like that should be euthanized because they and immigrants are nothing but blights and hindrances as a whole to our country’s resources.” You’d think he was talking like an American.”

“Though he shut up real quick when the Dad turned around,” Anthony said with a bit of a laugh. “Seriously, the guy looked like a lumberjack mixed with a bear. Even called the police an’ had the idjit charged with harassment when he wouldn’t shut his trap. Though I think the lot of us would have paid good money to see the tar beat out of the guy.” Anthony then looked at the Nun with a sly grin. “You even handed off the stuff to go and deal with’em too if the Bear Dad didn’t scare the ever-lovin’ bejesus out of ‘em.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Well, who in their right mind would stand of that? If the father wasn’t quick to stand up to that fool of a man, I would have dealt with it myself!”

Kira had a hard time believing that.

“Ruth, ya box as a hobby,” Anthony said flatly.

She didn’t look deterred at all and merely stated. “It keeps me fit.”

Never mind…

She needed to steer the conversation back in the right direction.

“Anyhow, besides that, you both found the deceased, correct?”

“Oh, yes.” The Nun said, getting back at the matter at hand. “I had asked Anthony to come with me for assistance since I was late getting the church open today. We arrived at the church around, nine in the morning after helping a young woman with directions. We would have had it opened sooner, but it’s currently just myself and a few others.”

“What about the Priest? Doesn’t Father Patrick open the church at six in the morning?”

“Oh no, Father Patrick retired, he… he has lung cancer and wished to focus on family matters. So, in the meantime, I’ve taken over such duties until a new Priest comes to take Father Patrick’s place.”

That surprised her. “Cancer? But Father Patrick never smoked.”

“It came as a shock to us all.” she then looked at Kira with a puzzled expression. “Did you know Father Patrick?”

“Yes, I did, I do.” she had spoken to Father Patrick not that long ago, and he never mentioned this. At all.

Did his kids know?

Just thinking about him made Kira recall something he once said when she was a teen. Back then, his hair was starting to turn gray as he had a full beard with kind hazel eyes.

“Bless the poor, the downtrodden, those who have failed and perhaps found a way to live again. Bless folks around you regardless of creed, colour and stature. Be cool, and rock on.”

Kira looked at Father Patrick with confusion. “What part of the bible is that from?”

“It’s not a verse, dear Kyrie, merely one of my own Creedence deep within my soul.” He says as he places his hand over his heart. “That, and thinking of the good old days with my Strat on stage singing my heart out.” She laughed in response, he was like an Uncle.

Kira looked back at the bodies of the two victims, maybe it was a good thing Father Patrick wasn’t here if he was in such poor health.

“So, as you were saying,” Kira spoke to get her mind off the past. “You helped a girl with directions and came here and found the deceased before calling 911. Do you know anyone else who might have a key?”

“I’m the only one who has a key. Although…” the Nun paused.

“Yes?”

“This key is the backup. We lost the original after choir practice with the volunteers on Sunday. We all just assumed that it might have been misplaced, it’s happened before and we’ve found the key not long after. Normally, it would be in the Priest’s office, but it wasn’t there.”

“Do you have the key right now?” The Nun handed Kira the key in question. “Thank you, and, is there any form of records of those who came into the church, the people involved, things like that.” Kira then noticed the look of worry on the Nun’s face and quickly added. “I don’t mean about the confessions that people have made, I know that those cannot be spoken of, I just mean the logs of those who’ve come in, events that have taken place in the past few weeks. That’s all. I don’t mean anything that could be seen as sacrilege.”

Ruth sighed. “They would be in the Father’s office, all records and logbooks of people who come for events sign and date them. Father Patrick always kept them organized. I’m not sure how much of use it will be but I can show you.” She then placed a reassuring hand on Anthony’s arm before leaving for the office in question. A room off to the side, with a discreetly hidden door so as not to bother those who come to offer prayer. She then put on gloves so as not to contaminate the room for potential evidence before opening the door.

Even after all this time, it hasn’t changed much. Kira thought when entering the office, while the Nun remained by the door as Kira stepped inside. “Freddie!” she called out and her partner was by the door in less than five seconds. “Help me sort through these documents.”

“Can do,”

The two of them began to sift through the documents while asking the Nun what somewhere for some seem to plan for an event, and something that Kira noticed was two particular names.

Alastor Hilmarsson and Amalie Hilmarsson. Their names appeared a few times in these papers. “Sister, do you know a man by the name of Alastor Hilmarsson?”

The Nun brightened. “Oh yes, Mr. Hilmarsson and his daughter, they come and cover if one of ours is sick.”

“For what?” Freddie asked.

“Choir, of course. Though he isn’t religious Mr. Hilmarsson is rather open to many different beliefs. Especially when it comes to the music that can be produced.”

“Okay, but why is his kid involved?” Kira asked.

The Nun gave an almost confused smile. “Because she sings too? She’s young, but she’s almost as good as her father, and I’m sure if she continued, she’ll surpass him one day. Though it takes a bit to get her to sing, she has a bit of stage fright. But the way her father encourages her is truly a sight, he’s such a devoted man.”

Kira had to suppress the urge to groan, she kept hearing praise about this guy, seriously, was he really that great?

Freddie on the other hand spoke up diverting the topic a bit, thankfully. “Singing takes practice, if she’s that good, I imagine it won’t be that long until she passes her Dad. Do they come here often?”

“Only when we are short-handed or for another church, I believe Bishop Franklin calls Mr. Hilmarsson if needed. Speaking of, I need to call the Bishop and inform him of what’s happened. I will refrain about the details of it, but I have to let him know that a murder has taken place, and will be closed until your officers have released it from being a crime scene.”

Kira looked at her. “You seem well versed in what we do.”

“I have a brother who was in law enforcement, but anyhow, call if you need something else from me.” And soon left the room leaving Freddie and Kira alone with the search.

They continued looking but found nothing that would lead them to any clues, Kira felt they’d have a better chance running these names through a database of offenders, big and small to find someone, someone who had a record and see where it would lead.

“Freddie, I need to step out, my eyes are starting to hurt from looking at all this.”

“You sure it’s not because of the Priest’s handwriting? Man has a scrawl that’d make my mother swoon.” When Kira scoffed, Freddie added. “Hey, handwriting can be seen as art, you should see some of the letters my wife’s father wrote during the war. You’d be impressed.”

“Well while you continue to be impressed, I’m going into the sun and take a breath of fresh air before seeing what else I might find.”

“Don’t stare into the sun,” he says.

“Don’t go blind from reading.” She says back before making her way out of the church, needing air, to get away from the crime scene for a bit, and not think of all the dead ends they were reaching. Only to see the man Anthony talk to someone Kira recognized.

The girl who lived across from Alastor, the one with the mismatched eyes. Her eyes narrowed, what was she doing here when she should be in school?

With her agitation on high, she decided to check.

This wasn’t important, at all.

Yet, for reasons her sleep-ailed deduced, this might somehow be connected in some way, and if she could get a lead. Any lead, she was willing to see what she could gleam from it.

Kira slowly approached and overhead some of Anthony’s and Elain’s conversation.

“So, who are ya tryin’ to find?”

“Uh, well, an office for a therapist, Doctor Du Maurier?”

“Ah Cordilia, ya I know her, she’s pretty good at her job. So what made ya get turned around? I thought I told ya where to go.”

“You did! But… well…” she looked on edge. “The whole number system here is really out there, I think I got turned around. I didn’t want to end up lost so I came back here.” her mismatched gaze looked at the police cars with worry. “Speaking of, did something happen?”

“Ah, this? Don’t worry about it, you’ve got a lot on yer plate yeah? Just think about yourself for a bit. Let me see the address.” She handed it to him. “Hmm, yeah this part of town can be a bit tricky if ya don’t know where yer goin’.”

Why was she going to a therapist out here when the school system offers it for free? Kira thought while deciding to remain hidden behind the corner of a building.

“But, uh, if yer new around here, wouldn’t yer school have a therapist that ya can talk to?”

The girl hesitated before answering. “Yeah… but… I can’t. At least, school isn’t in my cards, at least not now.”

“Hey ya don’t have ta force it, yer business is yours. I have no reason ta stick my sorry nose into it.”

“Thanks,”

“No prob, now, look out for these landmarks and you’ll be set.” After telling her where to go in detail and saying their goodbyes, Anthony watched as Elain went off before speaking. “Ya know, it’s pretty rude ta listen in on other people’s conversations.” He said as he turned in Kira’s direction. “So why don’t ya come out and make this less awkward for ya.”

“How’d you know I was there?”

Anthony, placed a hand on his hip looking less than impressed. “You types are all the same, ya had that look where ya think I’m up to no good. Regardless of what I’m doin’. I had a feelin’ ya might try something like this. Caught ya walkin’ over the moment the girl came askin’ for help.”

“That’s all it was?”

“Yeah,” he said sounding rather defensive. “It was, why do ya have to act all judgmental? Ya don’t know shit about me, an’ I don’t know shit about you.”

No denying that I guess. “True, but the way you reacted when we first spoke gave off vibes that you were up to no good.”

“When ya get harassed for being a bit too Feminine by other cops who want yer ass for less than nice things, you’d be on the defensive too. Regardless of what you’re into.”

“Well, you’re not at all what I’m into, my girlfriend can vouch.”

Anthony shook his head. “Don’t matter, and whatever it is ya want I have nothin’ for ya. I saw the bodies with Sista’ Ruth after helping that girl before she got all turned around again.” He then gave Kira a pointed stare. “An’ don’t you go buggin’ her either. The little lady has already had hell to deal with. You’d just make it worse.”

Kira folded her arms across her chest. “How so?”

“Don’t need ta be a genius ta know when a kid’s gone through hell. Her eyes showed that an’ I wasn’t about ta snoop either.” He sighed pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “Honestly, I wish Lu was still around, least be more understandin’ than yous willing to be with how grossly judgemental ya seem.”

“Lu?” Kira asked with a frown, a little taken aback given that was the nickname for her girlfriend but was surprised to hear a name she least expected.

“Louis Duval,” Anthony stated causing Kira to go still. “He was a lot like that, caring and understanding of a person regardless of where they came from, but then he was like that even on stage too.” Anthony blew out a puff of smoke as his gaze became sombre. “Lu always did make one hell of a Queen.”

“I know him, knew him, Louis was married to a woman,” she remembered that Louis had a wife, so perhaps instead of gay, maybe he was bi?

Anthony arched a brow at that. “Ah yeah? He was straight as straight ya can be. But let me tell ya somethin’. Being a Queen or King, a person can be any gender or sexuality an’ dress in Drag with no shame, though a lot of guys like me do Drag, I suppose it kind of gave it a stigma. Lu just enjoyed it, another way to express himself that he couldn’t with others, not ta mention, he looked great in those stiletto heels.”

I had no idea… Kira thought that she knew everything about her old partner, but something like this he hid, even from her. Did he hide it from his wife too?

“His wife especially supported him and all those in the Drag community. Apparently, the sex was good too.” He said with wagging eyebrows, clearly trying to get some kind of reaction out of Kira, too bad for him, it wasn’t going to work on her. Given what Lucia was into with their foreplay.

That explains why they had three kids so quickly... Kira thought flatly. “So, you knew Louis from Drag Shows, then?”

“Somethin’ like that,” Anthony said with a shrug. “Look, while it’s not really important, Lu helped me when I was in trouble, let me stay with the Missus while tryin’ ta sort things out. She still calls too.”

That surprised her. “What?”

“Yeah, she calls me almost every Sunday just to see how I’m doin’, ya know?”

If that were true then why didn’t Kira know about this guy?

“How’d you know Lu?”

“Work,” Kira said. “I worked with him before he died. He was looking into something and…” she trailed off. “I wish he told me what it was that he was doing that day, then maybe I could have helped.”

“Or, ya could’ve died,” Anthony said in a rather cold tone. “Don’t take it the wrong way Detective, but if it was somethin’ that dangerous, there’s no way in hell he’d involve others if it meant possibly gettin’ whacked. That’s just how he was, with everyone.”

It didn’t feel that way to her.

Louis was her partner, a man she trusted with her life, why didn’t he do the same? Just what was it that he had to do that was so secretive that warranted not telling her and getting himself killed at Cadavre Exquis’s hands?

What did he discover?

And why… Why did Cadavre Exquis pose Louis’s body like that of Jesus Christ and only take Louis’s heart?