My Lover's Angel - 1. Chapter 1

Title: My Lover’s Angel

Author: Bill Moretini

E-fiction

blm33@kc.rr.com

Disclaimer: The following unique story is a work about Gay men. If this offends you, do not read this story. This is strictly a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons or events – past or present – is purely coincidental.
The author claims all copyrights to this story, and no duplication, excerpts, or publication is permitted without written consent of the author.

NOTE: Published author of “Intimacy Between Men”…a collection of fifteen short stories.

My Lover’s Angel

After leaving the drag bar and now back in his bedroom, Uri switched on the lamp on the nightstand beside his bed. A page from his unfinished manuscript that was setting on his dresser fluttered to the floor. Uri was nowhere near it, and he wondered why that happened. He felt a slight draft on his left arm and left side of his neck. The fallen paper and the mysterious draft unnerved him.

“Damn! Surely I’m not that drunk!” he said to himself.

He took the few steps to where the paper lay and picked it up. Page two hundred and two. In the dim light cast by the forty watt bulb in the shaded lamp, he saw several dark spots on the page. He took it to the lamp and held it in the light.

“Blood! Several drops! What in the hell? It’s fresh!”

Uri quaked and dropped the manuscript page and quickly backed away from it as if it posed an immediate danger of some kind. The sharp corner of the dresser clipped his back just above his right buttock, rendering a searing pain. Page two hundred and two had drifted halfway under the double bed. Uri stared at the exposed portion of the page for several seconds, wondering what to do. Then he noticed that the bed was still made and Chris was not under the covers.

Uri and his lover had gone bar hopping. The last place they went to was Miss Molly’s; a drag bar. About halfway through the show, Chris complained about not feeling good and wanted to go home.

“Go on home, Honey. I want to watch the rest of the show. You probably had too much to drink. Take some aspirins and got to bed,” Uri had said. So, where is he? Uri wondered.

Uri looked at the stack of manuscript papers on the dresser. Page two hundred and one was there as was the rest of the unfinished manuscript that Chris had been working on.

Maybe Chris cut himself on something and bled on the page, Uri thought. But why would he leave the apartment? And where did he go? Or did he come home at all?

Uri stared at the page on the floor again.

It’s just a piece of paper, so why not pick it up? There’s got to be a simple explanation, he thought.

He stepped to the side of the bed and bent down. As soon as his hand touched the paper, a hand reached from under the bed and grasped his wrist firmly. Terror streaked through Uri. He tried to jerk free. He heard a loud mournful groan. Then the grip of the wrist slowly relaxed, and Uri jerked free. He was horrified when in the dim light he saw the ring on the hand was the one he had given Chris on his last birthday; a beautiful tiger eye stone set in silver.

“Chris…is that you?” yelled Uri.

There was no answer.

With trembling fingers, Uri grasped the hand and began to pull. Slowly, the arm followed. On it was the dark blue satin shirt Chris had worn that night. Now Uri knew it was Chris under the bed. He strained at the arm until Chris’ face was in the open. It was ashen. His eyes were staring straight up. Uri yanked harder until Chris was most of the way from under the bed.

“Chris! Chris! Oh my God…Chris!” yelled Uri.

Chris tried to move his lips. His eyes rolled to the side and stared at Uri. Then the lids relaxed to half open, and his jaw dropped. Uri slapped Chris hard, hoping to get a reaction, but it was too late. Chris was gone.

“Don’t die on me, Chris! Please, God…, don’t let him die!” Uri pleaded as tears began to flow.

Uri put a finger in his mouth to wet it, and held it against Chris’ nose, hoping that Chris was still alive and breathing. But he could not feel breath on his finger. Chris was dead. It wasn’t till then that Uri realized that Chris’ right arm felt warm and moist. He looked at it and realized that what he felt was still-warm blood. Uri had a rabid fear of death. He quickly rose to his feet and backed against the wall by the dresser. His eyes were so blurred with tears that he could hardly see. He frantically wiped the tears away. That’s when he saw the handle of a knife sticking out of Chris’ ribcage near the center of his body. The rest of his body was still under the bed. Panic swept over Uri. He looked around the room, half expecting to see the person who killed his lover. His eyes locked on the closed closet door, fearing that the killer might still be hiding in the apartment. No way was Uri going to check in the closet. He did his best to gather enough courage to tiptoe around the end of the bed and make his way toward the small efficiency living room. At the bedroom threshold, Uri cautiously scanned the room. Seeing no one in the living room, he made a quick dash for the apartment door. He flung it open and raced toward the stairs; he wasn’t about to wait for the elevator. Their apartment was on the fourth floor. As he ran down the stairs, he feared that someone might be following him, so he occasionally and quickly glanced behind him as he ran. Halfway down the last flight of stairs, Uri stopped cold. It wasn’t till then that he noticed dark spots on the carpeted steps. They appeared to be red. He knelt down and touched one of the spots with his left index finger. It was wet. The stairs were dimly lighted, so Uri reached in his pocket for his cigarette lighter. He immediately saw that it really was red and looked like blood. He quickly wiped it off of his finger onto the carpet. He could feel his pulse throbbing in his head. His heart was beating fast and his arms were covered with goose bumps. He shrunk back against the stairs wall in horror. He then noticed that the red spots continued down the stairs and onto the foyer floor on the inside of the security door. Uri shrunk back as he saw a man enter the outside door of the building. The tall man was wearing a hat, and Uri couldn’t see his face. Uri quickly inched back up the stairs sideways while keeping and eye on the man who was inserting a key into the security door. Uri now stood at the top of the bottom flight of stairs, staring at the man and ready to run back to his apartment. Then the man took off his hat and brushed off the snow. Uri immediately recognized the semi bald head of Julius Armstrong, their neighbor and friend who lived across the hall and down two doors from Uri’s and Chris’ apartment. He was holding a small package in his hand. Uri recognized it as a package used by the neighborhood drug store. Uri rushed down the stairs to meet him.

“Uri! Hi. You kind of took me by surprise.”

“It’s late. Where have you been, Julius?”

“To the drugstore. You and Chris woke me up. For two guys who get along so well, you were making a hell of a noise. You woke me up. If I’m awakened after a couple of hours of sleeping, I have a hard time going back to sleep, so I went out after some sleeping pills. What’s wrong with you, Uri? You like you’d seen a ghost. I hope everything between you and Chris isn’t serious.”

“Chris and I were not arguing!” yelled Uri. “In fact, I just got home a couple of minutes ago! Look at the floor!”

Julius looked down and around and looked back at Uri with a look of bewilderment.

“It’s a carpeted floor. So what?”

“The blood! Can’t you see it?”

“Blood? I don’t see any blood. Are you having a nervous breakdown?”

“No, damnit! It’s on the stairs carpet too!”

Mr. Armstrong stared at Uri as if he’d lost his mind.

“Why don’t you get on the elevator with me, Uri?” said the older man. “We’ll talk this out in my apartment over a drink.”

“I’m not crazy!” yelled Uri as he bolted out of the security door, and then out the outside door.

Armstrong stared through the two glass doors in utter befuddlement. Uri slipped on one of the four steps outside the building, but he grabbed the handrail and didn’t go down. That’s when he saw more drops of blood in the thin layer of freshly fallen snow. His eyes followed them to the public sidewalk where they continued to the right and disappeared behind the barberry hedge that fronted the property. A chill ran down Uri’s spine. He felt a strange and unwelcome compulsion to follow the trail of blood. When he reached the public sidewalk, a feeling of insecure dread came over him. He looked back to see if Julius was still in the hall inside the building. He was not. Nor were the drops of blood that had been there mere seconds before. Startled even more, Uri looked down the sidewalk ahead of him. The blood trail continued until they were too far ahead of him to see. He looked down in front of him, and then directly behind. The red spots only appeared in front of Uri.

“My God! I think I am loosing my mind!” he said out loud.

Only when a light gust of wind sent cold air down the front of his shirt did he realized that in his haste to run from his apartment, he hadn’t grabbed his winter coat. Nevertheless, he felt a strong compulsion to continue following the trail of blood. The feeling was like that of a magnet that attracts something metallic and won’t let go. The crisp snow crunched beneath his steps as he slogged on. At the end of the block the trail turned to the right. Uri wondered how much blood it was taking to continue that far, and what the source could possibly be. One block and most of the next the trail continued, and then turned right onto the private sidewalk of a building that looked somehow ominous. It was badly run down. Only one window in the three flat was lit faintly. All of the others were dark. Only that window had shades or drapes. With great in trepidation, Uri slowly followed the trail of blood to the front steps where it turned left and disappeared around the corner of the building. Again, Uri looked behind him, and again he saw no blood in the snow. Uri interlocked his arms and held them tight against his chest. Not only was he cold from the low temperature, his entire shirt was wet from nervous sweat, and he was shivering uncontrollably. He glanced up at the one window and saw that the light had gone out. Frightened beyond belief, Uri slowly followed the trail of blood around the corner of the building where it stopped at a basement window. The window had not been latched shut and the wind was causing it to repeatedly open and bang shut. Uri was too frightened to handle any more. He hastily made his way to the front of the building and up the steps. On the inside of the entrance door, a taped on sign indicated that the building was condemned. Through the glass doors; similar to his own building, not one light that lit the interior could be seen. That did it. Uri turned and fled from the property and down the public sidewalk as fast as he could without slipping on the snow and falling. He occasionally glanced over his shoulder, fearing that he might be followed. In all that distance, not one drop of blood appeared in the snow. His numb fingers fumbled for the correct key. When he found it, his finger shook so much that he had a hard time inserting it. Once inside, Uri ran up the stairs. He had only one more flight to climb when his legs gave out and he could go no further. He sat down and backed into the only corner and stared up the stairs. His heart was pounding in his head so hard that he was getting a splitting headache, and he was gasping for air. He looked at his watch. Twelve minutes past three AM. The absolute quietness added to his paranoia. Fearing pneumonia, Uri had to do something to get warm, and do it fast. But he definitely wasn’t going back into his own apartment where he might become the killer’s next victim, that is, if the murderer was still there. It made little logic that he or she would be, but there was no way to be sure. Mr. Armstrong came to mind. Uri knew no one else in the building, and he trusted the man. He gradually mustered enough nerve to climb the last flight and go Armstrong’s apartment and knock. On the way down the hall, Uri saw that his apartment door was still open as it was when he hastily ran from it. With his back against the wall, he inched his way past the open door while keeping his eyes on it. Just a few more steps and he would be at Mr. Armstrong’s door. When he reached it, he tapped lightly several times. He got no results. He knocked hard, fearing all the while that if the killer was still in the apartment, he might come out when he heard the knocking. Still nothing happened. Nervous sweat was beading on Uri’s brow.

“Who in the hell are you to be knock on my door at this time of the…, the morning?” Uri heard through the cheap plywood door.

“Uri! Please let me in, Julius. Please, sir!”

Uri kept his eye on the open door while he heard Julius unlock his own door. When the door opened, Uri rushed in and yanked the door from Julius’ hands and slammed it. He then attached the safety chain and turned the lock on the door.

“Have you totally lost it?” asked Mr. Armstrong. “Shit, I’ll never get back to sleep the rest of the night, what’s left of it.”

“Call the police, Julius!”

“Police! What for?”

“Chris has been murdered. I should have told you when we met in the lobby earlier.”

“Are you serious?” Julius asked as he began backing away from Uri.

“I don’t joke about things like that. Why are you backing away from me? Surely you don’t think that I did it!”

“I… I don’t know what to think. I heard you two arguing loudly earlier. Just a few loud words, then all went quite.”

“That was not me arguing! It must have been Uri and the killer. Are you sure that it was an argument? Could it have been Chris telling the other person to not kill him? Do remember words?”

“No…, nothing distinctive.”

“Why aren’t you calling the cops?”

“Oh! Oh yeah,” said Julius, looking quite shaken.

Uri waited impatiently while Julius dialed, and then gave the police the address and told them that it was urgent. When he hung up, his hands were trembling.

“Julius, I’m freezing! If you would please bring me a blanket, I’ve got to get out of this wet shirt?”

“Sure, I’ll get one. Why is your shirt wet and why did you leave the building with no coat on?”

“I was scared out of my wits. For all I knew, the killer might have still be in there. Chris and I were at a drag bar watching the show when he felt ill. I told him I wanted to stay and watch the rest of the show, but for him to go home. When I got home I found him under the bed and already near death from a knife stab. If only I’d gone home with him, this would not have happened. The blanket, please.”

Julius quickly disappeared and reappeared with a blanket.

“Hell, your lips are turning blue. I’ll warm left over coffee.”

As Uri sipped his coffee, Julius watched dubiously. All of this seemed all too strange, especially the blood Uri claimed he saw but Julius couldn’t. Someone knocked, and Julius went to the door.

“Are you Julius Armstrong?” asked the heftiest of the two officers.

“Yes sir. Come in, gentlemen.”

“I’m officer Fred Barton. My pardner is officer Wayne Parks. The dispatcher said that something was urgent. What seems to be the problem?”

“You need to talk to my neighbor here, Uri.”

“Alright, Uri…, what’s going on, and why are you wearing a blanket?”

“Here, Julius,” Uri said as he handed the blanket to him. “Follow me to my apartment, please.”

The officers glanced at each other as Uri stepped past then. He stopped in the hallway and pointed.

“The apartment where the door is open. That’s ours…I mean mine. My friend was murdered there and his body is still in there…I guess.”

“You guess? Lead the way.”

“No! Please, I’ll follow you.”

“I didn’t asked you, I told you,” asserted officer Barton.

Uri’s fright swiftly return. He feared being caught between gunfire. But he had no choice. He slowly made his way to the open door.

“If you’re so damn scared, Uri, get between us. Now move.”

Officer Barton lead, and officer Parks followed Uri. Barton un-holstered his gun, then he pulled out a handkerchief and flipped on the switch to the overhead light. With gun raised, he scanned the living room and saw nothing unusual.

“Chris is in the bedroom sir,” said Uri.

“Is Chris the dead one?”

“Ye… Yes, sir. Sorry. The door to the right.”

“Parks, stay here with Uri. I’ll check it out.”

The officers words, “the dead one”, cut deep, and Uri’s eyes clouded over. He could restrain the tears no longer. He felt weak. He reached for the arm of his old overstuffed chair. Then he sunk to the floor beside the chair.

“Take it easy young man,” officer Parks said. “Why don’t you get up and sit in th…”

“Holy freak’n shit!” yelled Barton. “Get in here Parks and take a look at this! Bring that guy with you.”

“Come on, Uri. You can do this. Let’s go see what set Barton off like that. You’ll have to identify the body anyway, if there is one.”

Officer Parks took hold of Uri’s bicep and helped him to his feet. Uri dreaded having to seen the dead body of his beloved, and especially the knife in his ribs and the blood.

“Is that your… uh, roommate?” officer Barton asked Uri.

Uri shrunk back at the horrible sight.

“Jesus!” exclaimed officer Parks. “Is this some sort of gag young man? Is that really a manikin?” Uri broke into a run. He almost knocked down Julius who was standing in the doorway of the apartment. Julius grabbed hold of him and wouldn’t let go. Uri passed out in his arms and Julius lowered him onto the floor. Then he squatted on the floor beside Uri. He could here the officers talking in the bedroom.

“In all of my years working in homicide, I’ve never seen anything like this, Parks. It looks like every drop of blood has been drained from his body. He, I mean it, looks beyond ashen. Creepy, that’s what it is.”

“Hell, he looks like he’s made of chalk. What’s that on the tip of his index finger?”

Barton got on his hands and knees beside the corpse for a closer look.

“He’s still got one drop of blood. It’s still somewhat fresh, and it’s coming from under the fingernail of his index finger as if in a struggle, he scratched whoever killed him. I think we’d better have that Uri guy go into the bathroom and strip completely. I want to look for scratches on every inch of his body. Even his…, well, you know. As I see it, he’s the only person who we know of who could be suspect. Get him now and take him to the bathroom.”

“I think you’re barking up the wrong tree, but I’ll do it.”

“Uri, is that the bathroom door I’m pointing to?” ask Parks.

“Yes, sir.”

“Come with me.” Julius helped Uri to his feet and Uri followed orders. “I want you to totally undress,” Parks said after they entered and closed the door.

“Why, officer?”

“We ask the questions. You do as you’re told. Sox too.”

When Uri was naked, officer parks looked at him from head to toe; even at his armpits. He examined his backside and then checked through his hair for blood.

“Do you think I did it?” asked Uri.

“Frankly, no. But officer Barton is my boss. You can get dressed now. Then we’ll have some questions.”

Julius had left and closed the door. Barton came out of the bedroom.

“I already examined him, Fred. He has no flesh wounds.”

“Humm. Sit down, Uri.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell us everything you know about tonight.”

“Well…, Chris and I are…uh…”

“We figured that out. Get to what we don’t know.”

“We went to see a drag show. About halfway through, Chris said he didn’t feel good. I told him to go on home because I wanted to finish watching the show. When I came home, I saw blood on a page of my novel manuscript. It scarred me and I dropped it. It went part way under the bed. I bent down to pick it up, and Chris…, Chris was still alive. He grabbed my wrist. That scared the hell out of me. I didn’t know it was him.”

“So, he was still alive?”

“Yes, sir. He tried to speak, but couldn’t. He just died. Then I saw the knife in his chest. I bolted and ran from the apartment. At the head of the stairs I saw blood on the steps carpet. One drop on each step. I followed it. Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know. It was as if I had no control over my actions. I met Julius in the lobby and pointed out the blood. He told me that he couldn’t see any. I think we both thought each other crazy. I followed the trail that lead outside. I saw drops of blood on the snow and followed the trail. It lead to a condemned building about two blocks away. When I looked behind me, the trail had disappeared. Honestly, it really did! But it continued around the corner of the building and stopped at a basement window that was somewhat open.”

“Did you see any blood when we entered the building?” Baton asked Parks.

“Not a drop.”

“Uri, you’re a liar. Put on a shirt and winter coat. Then turn around. I’m going to cuff you and throw your ass in jail.”

“No! I didn’t do it! I loved Chris!”

“Get dressed, now!” snapped Barton.

Uri began crying, making it harder to get dressed. He felt like life as he knew it had come to an end forever when he felt the cold handcuffs click in place. Officer Barton took him to the elevator while Parks closed the apartment door. Uri was shaking from fear. When the elevator reached the lobby and they got out, Uri looked at the foyer floor. There were no traces of blood. Hope totally faded, and Uri stopped sobbing. He resolved himself to his fate. He would either die in the chair or spend the rest of his life in prison. Parks pushed his head down when he entered the back seat of the squad car. Officer Barton started the squad car. Out of desperation, Uri decided to make one last effort to save himself.

“Will you please go just a little bit our of your way? I want to show you the building that the drops of blood lead to.”

“Bullshit, Uri,” said Barton.

“How far is it?” asked officer Parks.

“Huh? You ain’t falling for his pile of crap, are you, Parks?”

“At the end of the block turn right and go about a block and a half,” said Uri.

“I’m going straight to the precinct, so shut your face,” barked officer Barton.

“What’s it gonna hurt to humor him, Fred? That’s not far. Besides, if we find nothing unusual, his stupid claim will fall apart and then we can take him it for interrogation.”

Officer Barton heaved a huge sigh.

“Do I have to shut you up too? Alright, want the fuck. Tonight’s been slow anyway.”

“Thanks, Officer Barton,” said Uri.

“Aw shut up!” Barton said as he slowed for the corner.

No one spoke until they had passed through the next intersection and were nearly half way down the next block.

“There! That large old dark brick apartment building!” said Uri.

Baton brought the car to a stop in front of it.

“He was right, Fred. I recognize the sign taped to the door. It is a condemned building. And there is a dim light in one of the apartments. I‘m taking Uri with me so he can show me that open basement window he claims he saw.”

“Make it snappy. I’ve about had it with this hoax.” Barton grumbled .

“Stay behind me and tell me where to go, Uri.”

“Yes, sir. Go to the entrance and turn left. Turn right around the building corner and shine you flashlight at the first basement window.”

Uri noticed that the trail of droplets of blood no longer was no longer there either. Parks saw that the window was open and swaying in the breeze by the hinges which were at the top. He bent down and pushed it higher and moved the beam slowly over the basement contents from right to left. Something grabbed his attention. He held the beam steady on something bright blue.

“Jesus!”

“What is it, officer?” asked Uri.

“Keep your voice down and turn around. Do it!”

Uri heard a click, and then another click and felt the handcuffs fall away. He didn’t understand.

“Go to the car and tell Barton to let you in and to get his ass around here. Hurry up, Uri, and be quiet about it.”

Uri carefully made his way down the slippery sidewalk and went around to the drivers’ side.

“What tha shit is going on? Did Parks take off the cuffs?”

“Yes, sir. He told me to get in the car and for you to get your ass around to where he is, his words, not mine. He saw something that alarmed him.”

“Crap! Get in the car and keep your hands off of everything. I’m taking the keys with me.”

“Yes, sir,” Uri said, glad to get in out of the cold.

He watched until Barton disappeared around the corner. He looked up and saw that the second floor window was still dimly lit.

“What’s going on, Parks?” asked officer Barton.

“Kept your voice down and look where my flashlight shines. A hand is sticking out of a blue winter coat that’s mostly behind a large cardboard box. Looks like another body.”

“Do you smell something too?”

“I smell death. I think someone is in that apartment where the light is on. We’ve got problems. Better call for back up. We don’t know how many vagrants are up there or if they’re armed.”

“Bullshit. We can handle this. Pull your gun and shine the light on the basement stairs. If someone comes down them, tell him to freeze and I’ll take care of him. If I can get my fat ass through that small window, I’m going down there and check things out.”

“Gotcha.”

Officer Parks trained the flashlight beam on the stairs with gun drawn while officer Barton snooped around.

“Ooooh boy!” exclaimed Barton. “I think we stumbled on something damn serious. There are two more corpses here and a loose pile of several billfolds. Not one has money in it, but everything else is here. Drivers license and a lot of other personal stuff. Money is what the suspect was after. But where are the other bodies? Damn…, these two stink!”

Parks heard the squad car door slam shut. He leaned back and saw Uri running toward them.

“The apartment light went out!” said Uri.

“Did you hear that, Fred?”

“Who couldn’t? Tell Uri to keep his voice down, damnit! This building is bound to have a fire escape on the back. Go quickly and check it out while I start up the basement stairs to check on that second floor apartment. Use caution…, now go!”

“Get back in the car, Uri. Lock the doors and stay there!” demanded Parks.

Uri turned quickly and ran for the quad car and got in. Then officer Parks ran along side of the building towards the back. He was about to round the corner when he heard a creaking noise and assumed that the suspect was now aware of their presences and was attempting an escape. With gun held high and the flashlight clicked off, he inched his way forward. Then he lurched around the corner and quickly scanned the fire escape with his flashlight. The suspect was near the bottom.

“Freeze!” commanded Parks. Then a bullet from the suspect’s gun zinged past his ear. There were no back yard lights, and even with the flashlight, the suspect was hard to see. Officer parks fired back, but missed. The suspect ran back up the fire escape and quickly dove through an open second story window; obviously the one he had used to get onto the fire escape. Parks wondered about the whereabouts of officer Barton, but not for long. The shots brought Barton rushing around the far corner of the building where he stopped.

“Get him?” yelled Barton.

“No. He went back inside the building.”

“Stay where you are. I’ll go inside!” yelled officer Barton.

Once again Barton maneuvered through the basement window. Parks heard glass shatter. The noise came from the far side of the apartment building. He ran to the far corner and peeked around it. The suspect was running toward the front. Parks leaped out and aimed.

“Stop! Drop the gun, now!” he yelled.

But the suspect kept running. Parks shot at his legs and scored. The suspect dropped onto his belly, but didn’t throw his gun down.

“Drop it or you’re a dead man!” yelled officer Parks.

That got results. Parks ran forward, keeping his gun pointed at the suspect who was face down in the thin dusting of snow. Parks grabbed his handcuffs and slammed his knee down hard on the small of the suspect’s back, causing the suspect to grunt with pain.

“Arms behind your back!” demanded Parks.

Reluctantly the suspect did as he was told. Seconds later, officer Barton came running around the front of the building with gun drawn.

“You got him!” Barton yelled as he ran toward them.

“Sure did. Put on some gloves or use something to keep your prints off of his gun.”

“Blood is spreading on the snow from beneath his left thigh.. Did you have to shoot him?”

“Look, Barton, you may be my superior, but I’m well trained. He wouldn’t drop his gun when told, so of course I had to bring him down.”

“My leg hurts! I need to see a doctor!” grunted the downed suspect.

“I wouldn’t have shot you if you’d put down your gun. You have the right to remain silent. There, I’ve read you your rights.” Parks said. “Fred, call an ambulance to pick this guy up and take him to the hospital. We’ll have to put him in the back seat with Uri.”

“Uri ain’t gonna like that one bit.”

“When we get to the car, put one end of your handcuffs around the suspect’s ankle and put the other end around his opposite wrist. There’s no way he can hurt Uri that way. Make the call while I march this guy to the squad car so that his attorney can’t accuse us of abusing him by causing him to caught pneumonia.”

“I’ve got an idea, Parks. We’ll drive him back to Uri’s apartment and you and him can ride in the ambulance to the hospital. That’ll kill two birds with one stone.”

“Great! Me, a wounded violent suspect, and a corpse that looks like it’s made of chalk, all in an ambulance. Thanks a lot, Barton!”

Uri was too frightened to sit in the back seat with the suspect, so officer Barton reluctantly allowed Uri to sit in front between him and officer Parks. When they arrived at Uri’s building the ambulance was sitting empty in front with all lights flashing.

“I’ll go up and tell the ambulance guy about their strange unexpected passengers,” said Parks.

When officer Parks entered the apartment, one of the ambulance personnel was sitting on the couch looking ill. The other man was sitting on the coffee table in front of him and facing him.

“What’s going on?” asked Parks.

“You tell us!” snapped the man on the coffee table. He too looked upset. “We’ve never experience anything like this and it scared the piss out of us.”

“Me and officer Barton already saw it. The corpse looks like it’s already been to the morgue and had the blood drained in preparation to be embalmed.”

“Not anymore! After being shocked at the sight of it, we were about to put it in a body bag when the damn thing got back it’s color. You’d be upset too if you’d seen that happen!”

“That’s impossible!”

“We instantly stopped zipping up the bag. Go see for yourself.”

“No thanks. About when did the change take place?”

“Around fifteen minutes ago. Why?”

“Humm. That’s about when we caught the suspect,” Parks said with a bewildered expression. “This is all too goddamn weird. Like it or not, finish the job and get the gurney in the ambulance. Me and the suspect will be riding with you. That’s just the way it is. So no comment. I’ll be glad when this fucking night is over! The other apartment occupant is in our squad car. I’ll go ahead and tell him that he can return as soon as we’re all loaded and on out way.”

Uri’s hands were trembling as he stood at the open door of his apartment. Although he knew that the killer was in custody, he sight of the interior looked ominous. He inched his way inside and looked around, but didn’t close the door. He warily went to the bedroom. His eyes went to the printed stack of his manuscript. He then inched his way around the end of the bed for a closer look, expecting to see the bloody page two hundred and two still on the floor. To his shock it wasn’t. He looked at the manuscript pile and saw that page on top. There was not one drop of blood on it. He shrunk back in terror. Then he heard the soft whir of the computer turning on. His heartbeat shot up, but he remained where he stood. Seconds after the computer had warmed up, the keyboard came alive. It began to type on the next page of the manuscript that Uri had been working on. It was too many feet away to read, so Uri cautiously inched his way toward it. Moments later the keyboard stopped writing. Uri began to read what it had typed.

Darling, don’t be frightened. The blood you followed was mine. It was meant to lead you to the murderer. It’s over now, my love. I’ll always be looking over you. Goodbye until we meet again. I love you.