My Dead Brother’s Folly

The frantic call came in around 8. I hadn’t gotten to the office yet so Mary, my secretary, took the call and relayed the message to me on my cell. It was Richie. I wonder why he didn’t just call my cell? As usual and true to form he was off the deep end again somewhere in dimension X. He hadn’t been taking his meds, claiming the demons were after him again. At least he didn’t think he was a dog again; like last time.

So, like any good Brother, I redirected to his place. Putting meat on the table would have to wait for now. Man, this sucked. Early morning traffic headed cross town is always jammed up. I best take the subway. I’ll get there faster. Man, I hate the subway.
A half dozen pig wagons, two news crews, and a coroner’s van we sprawled outside Richie’s Apartment building. Dozens of people were rubbernecking it from behind a perimeter manned by a half dozen more pigs in blue. What the hell was going on? How’d they get here so fast and more importantly why were they here at all? Man, what’d you do Richie?

I pushed my way under the yellow tape and made for the doorway. Espinoza stopped me ten feet in. Funny it being him here today. He’s a great detective but he was a lousy partner. Carma and Murphy were both in on that little joke. I really hate that guy.

“You don’t want to go up there, man,” He instructed. “it’s Richie, man, he’s gone.”
“That can’t be? Mary just relayed a message from him not more than 20 minutes ago.”
“Dude, he’s been dead over six hours. Coroner just finished his preliminary. Confirmed the cause and time of death. There’s no mistake. Dead bodies don’t lie.”
“Always the sensitive one aye Mannie?” I mused angrily. “I have to see for myself. You owe me!”
“The captain’s already ok’d it.” Mannie replied. “He’s up there talking to the coroner now. It’s bad man. Real bad. There’s blood All over the place. Strange writing all over the floor and walls. Even on the ceiling. It looks like he was done by some cult or something.”

I’d never seen Manny this shaken up before. He came up in the force just like me and seen pretty much everything. This had to be bad to shake him up. Twelve years of working homicide will do that to yah. It had to be bad. The elevator ride seemed like it took hours. I could feel the dread building, weighting me down. I made my way off the little white box down the spider web of hallways to Richie’s room without so much as an upward glance. I felt sick. The bleach smell this place always held was never good thing. Today it was just groody. I hate hospitals. Several people all dress in white scurried up and down the hall. In and out of the various other rooms. My mind swam as I tried to put the pieces together, but nothing made sense. If Richie didn’t call, then who did?

Dead six hours-
How could a murder take place in such a secure place-
Did no one hear what was going on-
Man oh man. Richie, what happened to yah bro?

Another pig brushed past me, hurrying through the door to Richie’s room out down the hall. The noobie made it about half way before he doubled over, gagging and gasping for air as he lost his lunch. I steadied myself, taking in a deep breath and closing my eyes as I stepped through the metal doorway. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was next.

Richie’s room was covered; no, painted with blood. All the furniture had been moved to the edges of the room creating a large open space. In that space sat Richie. He sat there on his knees, palms up, head down. He was also painted red. His entire chest cavity had been cut open. Each of his internal organs laid out, carefully placed within the confines of a huge pentangle. The pentangle in turn centered within a large circle. The pentangle and the circle were the only things in the room not a deep crimson red. Whatever they were made of shimmered like diamonds in the soft white light coming from a single light-bulb hanging overhead. It swung slowly back and forth.

Richie was dead. Sacrificed by god knows who; or what. “Did the demons get him?” I whispered to myself rhetorically. I had to admit that Richie didn’t seem so crazy any more. At least he was at out of his misery. The only thing to do now was track down whoever did this to him and pay them back in kind. I never did have much stomach for this sort of thing, but someone was going to pay.