CHAPTER 2 (Mama, I just killed again)
I can’t stop the memories while I am working, I hate the bitch, she stank of cigarette smoke and liquor. “How was prom, bastard, and is that blood on your shirt, now I will have to wash it, you are always giving me work. Who did you fight, take the shirt off, bastard, I can’t stand here the whole night. Take it all off.”
“No, Mama, I will wash it.” Slap. Throb-throb. “I said take your fucking clothes off, bastard.”
Liz was dead. I sat and looked at the limp body, it no long held my interest. Dead is dead.
Time to clean up, I don’t particularly like this part, it’s too messy.
MARISA: I heard the garage door slide closed, and switched off my cellular. “Hey babe, did you remember the milk?” Not that Ian ever forgets. He smiled and kissed my cheek. “You only reminded me ten times today, babe.” He placed the milk in the fridge. “Ketchup? Ian, those corn-dogs will give you a heart attack.” He pulled a tongue at me in jest, and waved as he went up to shower. I am not one to purge or much for pettifogging, but, I opened up to Tristen today, and I feel guilty as sin. Just looking at Ian, I question, why? Why would I do that to him. He is kind, and gentle, loving in his own way, he never gets angry, and he never forgets the milk. It’s the other side of this marriage that is lacking, it always has. In twenty years, I have never seen him naked, at first, it was the greatest turn on, I found his bashfulness attractive, now it has become the bane of my marriage, he has never allowed me to touch him intimately, even when we courted, now there is this ever growing hole inside me. I want more, I need more, and I am finding what I seek in Tristen.
We have been working together for six months now, he is the perfect example of the all American boy, well not that he is a boy, he is at least ten years older than I am. He has stunning blue eyes, he is a brilliant surgeon. The attraction between us has become tangible. Not that Ian, is bad looking, not at all, he has a rugged handsomeness and he is well built, he jogs every morning. Not that I can say I truly know what my husband looks like naked, I go by feel, the areas he allows me to touch. Tristen told me, our marriage is unhealthy, I defended Ian, I know he grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, he never speaks about his Mother, and I think, from the little, Roberto has told me, that Ian’s Dad died when he was an infant. Roberto Oliveira and Ian are childhood friends, and Roberto is completely loyal to Ian. Roberto is the lead detective, in a case, Tristen and I were pulled into, now we really spend most of the day together. These murders are troubling me. I have not divulged anything to Ian, he is sensitive, that is why he closed his practice, and has been an Uber driver for two years now.
We don’t need for anything, he provides well, always has, and we are childless, I think we spent the better part of the first fifteen years of our marriage, consumed by our careers, and now it’s too late. Not that we ever broached the subject, and if I am honest, I don’t really see Ian as a Father figure, he is too insecure, I love Ian, I will always love him, he has a broken wing, and I can’t fix that, he doesn’t want my help. It’s me I need to focus on. I know we will make love tonight, he is not how shall I put it, cold, he isn’t affectionate, at all, he does what he does, and he gets up, and has a shower, I am now old enough to experiment, and he won’t. Ian sat at the table, and buttered a role, while I cooked. “You had a good day, wife?” He has asked me that for the last twenty years, and I still smile.
“Not much to write home about, and you babe? Are the tourists driving you batty yet?” He shrugged. “Nah, they tip well, and I get to see all of Bonita, we should take a road trip, there are places, that will take your breath away.” We ate in the kitchen, Ian would never sit in front of the television and eat. We get to talk, so I don’t mind, when I am on call we rarely get the chance to eat together. He washed and I dried. “You look tired, babe.” He had dark circles under his eyes. And a few new grey hairs. “It’s been too damn hot, I can think of ways, that you can lull me to sleep.” He winked at me. Ian came up behind me and kissed my neck. “Babe, I need to shower.”
He nodded, I know he would be under the covers when I come out of the shower. He kissed me, and pulled the towel off, he entered me, as he always, did, a kiss is foreplay to Ian. I wanted to try something, so I place my hands on his buttocks, he didn’t pull away, so I pushed him in deeper, this was going better than expected. “Faster babe…” He stopped. “What did you say, Marisa?”
“I said faster babe…” He got off me, and walked into the bathroom. He came back out, grabbed his pillow, and closed the bedroom door. I lay there in shock, I tried not to cry, eventually, I sent a text to Tristen, he sent one back. “Come over”. I thought about it, then I got dressed, and I went out the back door. If Ian heard my car he would assume it’s an emergency at the hospital. This was the first time I cheated on my husband, and it would not be the last. Tristen opened up a whole new world to me, a world I only read about in romance novels. I do feel guilty, but not guilty enough to stop.
IAN: I can’t believe, she did that. Marisa knows, I don’t condone vulgarity, she knows. Why did she do that? Why did she say that? I feel unsettled, my wife knows me, no vulgarity, I will do anything for her, but I will not be disrespected, and never in the bedroom. I heard her leave, I know there is something going on that she won’t tell me. Roberto told me about the murders, I can’t believe this is happening in Bonita. Roberto and I grew up in the same road, went to the same schools. He knows a little about my childhood. But there are things, not even the best detective in Alvorada knows.
I try to forget that I was ever a boy. A defenceless child, that none of it was my fault, I had said this a thousand times to my patients. I had to close my practice, it was opening up old wounds and memories best forgotten. Throb-throb. Listen to your pulse Ian, settle down. She won’t do that again. Throb-throb. I got up and made tea, and watched a late night movie. Marisa came home in the early hours of the morning. She went straight to bed. I couldn’t go back to sleep, I was angry. I will get dressed, and go for a run. I need to run. Throb-throb. Throb-throb. Maybe I need to go back on my med’s? No. I don’t need pills, I need my wife’s respect. I went into our bedroom, and packed my suit, and my jogging clothes. I wanted to kiss Marisa good bye, no, I need to calm down.
I ran, the air was cool, and I pushed myself. Run, run faster Ian. “Take out the garbage, Ian.’ Slap. “Delinquent.” Slap. I tried to push the branches out of my way, I only ran where it was overgrown. Maybe I wanted to feel the pain, maybe I am punishing myself, but for what? For being angry at Marisa? I never get angry at Marisa, she should have known better. Slap. Run Ian run. I heard my name being called as I reached the riverbed. Roberto, was approaching me from the opposite direction.
“bom Dia.” We shook hands and I dried my face. “Who are you running from, Ian? The bogeyman?” I laughed. “Roberto, sometimes it feels like it. What brings you out this time of the morning?”
“They found another body. It washed up sometime during the night, you need to go the other way, Ian, they closed off the whole are.” Roberto gestured with his hands. “Do you know who it is? The body?” He nodded. “Keep this to yourself.”
“You know I will, how many cases have we worked on in the past?” We had worked on many, I was the profiler for most of the homicides in Alvorada, the suburb we have been living in for twenty years.
“I got here around 1a.m. Some kids sneaking off to smoke a joint found the body. She is young, a student. English, from her passport, and on holiday. The body is fresh, with the heat, and the rain we have had, we were lucky to find her so soon. I don’t think this is connected to our serial killer. The MO don’t match up. She was cut repeatedly. Our serial, strangles. Ian, I know you are retired, but I really need your input, can you come down to the morgue? I called Marisa, but she said you were out on your morning run. Please. The chief is sitting on me, and the bodies are piling up. I need a fresh set of eyes.” I thought about it. “Yeah, I will shower, and meet you at the morgue, later Roberto, tchau.”
Marisa was at the morgue, I kissed her cheek. Hell life is too short. “Hi babe. Roberto found me, and here I am, what brings you here?” A smile, all good again. “I actually, treated the deceased, she fell, and sprained her ankle, on arriving here, well not here, in Bonita. The deceased was visiting an Aunt if I remember correctly. Roberto asked me to identify the body, before he called the Aunt, so I am waiting for the ME. I see he roped you in again, and babe, I am so sorry…”
“Forget it, okay.” Roberto arrived, and we went to speak to the ME. The deceased looked so familiar, maybe o drove her somewhere, yeah, that had to be it, I see a dozen faces a day, hers nagged at me. “You okay, Ian?” asked Roberto. “Yeah, carry on. Only shocked at how young she is, what a waste.” I blessed myself. Marisa held my hand. The ME gave us a short walk through.
“Time of death, between 8 a.m and 1 p.m. She was tortured for hours, prior to her death. No sexual intercourse. No fibres. No skin under her nails, she didn’t struggle, she was heavily drugged up. The only marks, are the bondages on the hands and feet. Cause of death, she bled to death, due to several cuts all over her body, except for the genitals, these were not touched.” He continued to narrate, but my head throbbed. My pulse quickened. I have seen her. I know I have, I think…. No I can’t remember. But I have seen her before. What if I am the last person that saw her alive? I have to say something. “Roberto, I think I drove her somewhere, I will have to look in my log book, what is her name?”
He took out his pocket book. “Liz Campbell. Elizabeth Campbell.” I nodded. “I will be right back, what is your e-mail address, dispatch can send you a print out.” I wrote it down and headed to my car. I looked at my recent entries. Holy shit. I drove her yesterday. Yesterday? According to dispatch, I drove her around for hours. I can’t tell them I had forgotten, holy crap. That was yesterday! Roberto received my itinerary. “You drove her around yesterday, according to this, you dropped her off at the Plaza at eleven. Can’t you remember her face, Ian?” I held my hands up. “I see so many faces, all I do is pick up, and drop off, if she had to walk past me, I would not have recognised her, not during tourist season.”
“I need you to come down to the station, for one I need your statement, and I need you to help us with that other matter, please Ian.”
“No, problem.” Oh it was a problem. My heart was beating in my ears. “Take off your clothes, bastard. How was prom? Why is there blood on your clothes? Take it off, bastard, bastard!”
Listen to your pulse, Ian. Relax, you didn’t even know the girl. Relax. I got in my car and drove to the station. I had been here so many times, but never as a suspect. I am the good guy, I don’t hurt children, hell I don’t even have children.
“Relax, Ian. My God, you are not a suspect, my friend.” Yeah that is what I keep telling myself. “We are trying estimate a time line. So you dropped her off at eleven, then where did you go?” I frowned. How does that establish a time-line to her whereabouts, if he is asking me where I went? I can’t recall where I went. I looked at my logbook. Between eleven and one, I had no passengers. The sweat was running down my back. “Roberto, I think I went to the beach, I must have fallen asleep. I had a few bad nights, so I took a time out, I know I had passengers, for most of the late afternoon, then I bought milk, and I went home around five. Marisa was home early. And that was my day.”
Roberto looked at the entries. “You are not a suspect, I was hoping you could remember her.”
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