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Echoes of Madness
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Ed Carlyle
Ed Carlyle

Dec-22-2011 21:45

The "CASE CLOSED" stamp made THUMP sound as Edward Carlyle slammed it down onto a case file manila folder. "And once again the day is saved thanks to, Edward and Jasper!" Jasper Mayfield said.

"Very funny," Ed replied. The lights flickered with lighting flashed outside followed by a loud crack of thunder. "Think it will ever stop raining?" Ed asked Jasper. "I don't know..possibly...soon...hopefully?"

Ed laughed aloud. For the last two years, Ed and Jasper had been partners working as U.S. Marshals in the New York City District. Jasper had the face that only a mother could love but he was married to a beautiful woman, where as Ed was a more handsome looking man with no wife. Why? Because he had screwed up and lost his marriage and his two kids. While they were living a life in Los Angeles, Edward was trying to make ends meet in New York.

His thoughts drifted to his ex wife for a moment. He remembered how she had saved him public humiliation by divorcing him quietly. Had it gone public, he would have lost his job and everything else he owned.

"Edward! Jasper!" Captain Riley called out from his personal office. The building was an old abandoned bank that had been bought by the police department and turned into what Ed and Jasper called The Office. It had a few large rooms and a few smaller rooms. The lobby was full of desks, each desk had its own person behind it, all of whom in the building, were Marshals.

"In my office, pronto!" The captain yelled.

Ed and Jasper walked in and took a seat.

"First off, I'd like to congratulate you both on a job well done on your last case. It wasn't hard to find him but you did it. I don't know how and I don't care how but we've got some thing bigger than that. The FBI has contacted us about investigating a looney bin."

Replies

Riza Hawkeye
Riza Hawkeye
First Nomad

Jan-4-2012 21:10

Riza briskly made her way down to the mortuary, deep in thought. Upon arrival, she stared across the street at the figures just hurrying through the damp streets of an after-rain quiet. Their shadows cast eerie figures upon the ground. She pulled out a handkerchief and held it up to her mouth and nose. “Boys!” she called abruptly, watching them turn around and search for the source of the beckon.

Upon sighting Jasper, Riza was momentarily distracted. His countenance set beside Ed’s made such a stark contrast. Jasper backed up into the shadows. Riza allowed herself a self-satisfied smirk at the idea that she intimidated him.

Then she remembered, and her anger flared up at once.

“Dammit man, you’ve gone around infecting the whole town?” Riza screamed from across the dark street, not daring to move any closer.

“I’m not contagious, am I?” Ed asked. He looked down at his hands. “I-it’s not my fault, how was I supposed to know? Dr. Carruth didn’t even notice it at first, and he did the autopsy!” he yelled back defensively.

“Well then you’re all just a bunch of bloody geniuses, aren’t you? White blisters on a dead man equals smallpox!”

“Oh well,” Ed said sarcastically, “I’m sorry we don’t all have your knowledge of disea--” He broke off suddenly, his face blank as if contemplating something. “Hold on, how do you even know anything about diseases?” Ed had to admit that even though he thought he had known Riza for some time, he didn’t know anything of her past; she never spoke of it.

Pretending not to have heard the question, Riza merely hissed, “Get back to Ed’s house and stay there, the both of you. I’ll be there in half an hour.” Leaving them in sheer confusion, she turned on her heel and made her way back along the street, disappearing amongst the shadows. Neither of them saw the look that crossed her face.

Clift Garrett
Clift Garrett
Thespian

Jan-5-2012 02:02


Clift was slightly shook when he saw the look on Riza 'Hawkeye' Harris's face.

He was making his way home after what seemed like the longest performance in his history of the stage. He had much on his mind. The death of the a fellow thespian... his current case working on the disappearance of his x-wife... He started wondering if anyone was under the same kind of pressure.

When he saw Riza, whom he recognized as one of the top active detectives New York currently knows, he immediately also noticed the look exhaustion of the face of the timeless beauty.

Clift considered approaching Riza and introducing himself to her, but then decided against it.

He somehow got the distinct feeling that she wanted to be left alone tonight. However, the man he was would not let a lady walk alone in such a dark and damp night, so he decided to follow her from a distance to ensure that she reached whichever destination she was heading to safely.

At least one detective is safe tonight Clift thought as he continued to walk.

Within five minutes, he'd lost her... and though Clift was not entirely sure that she didn't have anything to do with it, he felt better in that he tried to do his utter best once more to ensure this world was a better one.


M. Lacrimosa
M. Lacrimosa
Sleuth About Town

This reply has been deleted by a Moderator

Ed Carlyle
Ed Carlyle

Jan-5-2012 23:25

Edward's temper flared. Being told what to do by a friend. For his best interest? Maybe. He didn't know. He slammed open the door into his dark apartment and turned on a light. Jasper came in, and sat down. He fiddled with a pipe but didn't light it. It was given to him by his grandfather. Jasper wasn't a smoker, but he claimed that it helped him think.

Ed stomped into the kitchen muttering underneath his breath. It was cold out side, and it seemed as though the rain was never going to stop. He started a pot of coffee and the door flew open. In walked a soaked Riza Hawkeye. "You look like a drowned rat." Edward said as he helped her out of her coat."

Ed walked into the living room where the three of them stood. "Let me tell you something," he said to her, "I'm in the middle of an important case, and I don't have time for you to tell me what to do!"

"Edward-"

"No," He interrupted, "you can listen to me. I'm not contagious and you and both know that. Even the doc said it takes twelve to fourteen days. Fourteen days I have to solve this case before I can quarantine myself, and the city!"

"Ed-" Riza started again. But yet again, she was interrupted by Ed, who continued to yell about the case he was assigned to.

Finally, without warning, Riza, who was fed up with Ed's yelling, reached out and slapped him hard across the face. He shut up instantly and turned to face her.

"Okay," he said, "you have my attention. What?"

"Will you shut up long enough for me to tell you?"

Ed folded he arms waiting and Jasper sat down in the chair.

Andrew Corelli
Andrew Corelli
Huntsman

Feb-6-2012 20:21

The clock marked exactly ten o'clock the moment Corelli rushed into the police station, making a quick knot to his tie.

"Good morning, Corelli... don't tell me you're late." the officer in the entrance was holding a cup of steamy coffee.

"Shut up, I overslept tonight" Corelli gave a quick look at his watch "The Chief is in his office?"

"Sorry, man, he was called for a press conference."

"Could you give him my report? I wrote it yesterday."

"Sure, no problem." the officer sipped his coffee.

Corelli got into his desk, palming the pockets in his coat and overcoat, he uttered a curse.

"What's wrong, man?"

"My keys..."

The officer laughed "Then you better start working, with a little of luck the chief will think you're busy with a suspect."

Corelli nodded and got out into the rain.

***

Andrew Corelli
Andrew Corelli
Huntsman

Feb-6-2012 20:29

Jonathan Jackson, the heavy weight director of the Mandelbrot Chemical Company, reread Corelli's card, puffing a big cigar.

"As a citizen in this great country I certainly have a duty, a responsability with my fellows compatriots, detective, I'll try to help you in every possible way, for we have to be a strong fort, a castle against the invasion of those anarchist and communist, animals that just wants to undermine the pillar foundations of this beautiful country, land of the just, pride of the brave..." Jackson made grandilocuent gestures, emphasizing every word, the lecture continued for another half of hour, quoting great thinkers and reassuring Corelli that he, as a patriot, was going to help him.

"Yes, Mr. Jackson, this is actually more simple than what it looks, I need some information on one of your employee, or former employee."

"Certainly, detective, who is the poor soul that got into the black alleys...?"

"Charles Johnson" Corelli interrupted him, while palming his overcoat pocket, he sighed "Do you have a cigarette?"

"Certainly, I'd be glad to share my reserve of the finest tobacco, bought..."

"Never mind... would you mind talking about Johnson?"

"Oh, that rat, the nerve of that young man, a vulgar thief..."

"I take he was fired, what happened?"

"He used to steal some chemicals, and all those problems with the secretaries; the poor girls making barely enough money and that rat..."

"He needed money, right." Corelli was taking notes in his notebook "Do you suspect or knows if he was in problems?"

"Certainly" he lowered his voice "he's a gambler: horses, cards, dices; a bad egg that Johnson, but the girls loves him... in what kind of problem he's in, detective?"

"The worst kind, he was killed a few days ago."

"A horrible crime, detective, a truly tragic end to that..."

"A witness saw Mr. Johnson talking to one of your employee about some results, do you know by chance who that person might be?"

Andrew Corelli
Andrew Corelli
Huntsman

Feb-6-2012 20:30

"He was friend of Bill Davis, our best analyst, a quite brilliant man, it's a shame he's in home, sick... maybe he's the one you're looking for." Jackson placed his cigar in an ashtray.

"Could you provide me with some information on that Mr. Davis? I'd like to talk to him as soon as possible"

"Certainly, detective" Jackson pressed a button in the intercom in his desk "Laura, could you bring me Bill Davis' contact card" a woman in the other side said something Corelli couldn't hear, Jackson addressed to Corelli "Detective, it may be in your best interest to take a look at some things Mr. Johnson left in here"

"Of course, every thing can help us make a break in this case."

Jackson gave another set of instructions in the intercom, after that he begun talking about the chemical industry and patriotism, a couple of minutes later, a young secretary entered the office and left a box and some papers, she left as silently as she entered; Corelli took both things and left as soon as possible, while Jackson talked about the seven virtues.

In his car, Corelli checked the box: tissues, candies, a pocket knife, a few coins and a cigarette case. Corelli opened the case, it had engraved a loving message by one Christine, and it was full of cigarettes. Corelli lit one of the cigarettes.

Ed Carlyle
Ed Carlyle

Feb-7-2012 20:49

Unbeknownst to the detectives, something was happening deep inside the asylum. Dr. Erik Peterson double checked to make sure his office door was locked. He turned to his book shelf and pulled the infamous book that swung the large shelf around, revealing a spiraling staircase which would lead down to a rather large underground laboratory. Inside this lab, worked close to four dozen German doctors, experimenting with the Smallpox virus.

Dr. Peterson walked to the head doctor, Irwin Scholkopff. Irwin turned and faced him without a word. "It's time," Dr. Peterson said quietly. "Release the virus."

"But-"

"Do it!" Erik spat.

"Yes," The doctor said.

His footsteps echoed down the hallway with each step he made. He entered a room and on the wall was a large switch. Dr. Scholkopff pulled the switch. The switch opened a series of air vents that led outside. Thousands of microscopic viruses spilled outside into the open city. Despite the rain, the virus still managed to infect the handful of people that were still out side int he rain. Unbeknownst to anyone in the city, an epidemic was born.

Ed Carlyle
Ed Carlyle

Feb-7-2012 21:11

Erik turned and left the laboratory, entering his office again. He picked up the phone and dialed. No one spoke when the other line picked up. "It is done," Erik said.

The other line disconnected and Erik hung up. He picked up the phone again and dialed another series of buttons. "Yes?" The other voice said. "It's done." Peterson said. "Get them and execute them all. Then destroy the lab. Do it quietly."

The line disconnected. Erik knew that the hit man and his team of four people would get it done. Just below his feet another set of doors opened and four large men with Thompson sub machine guns, each with a fifty round drum magazine herded the doctors into a sound proof room, with a camouflaged door, to look like part of the wall. All the men were shot and killed. Those who survived were left to die when the door was shut. Next the men walked by the laboratory experiment rooms, tossing stolen hand grenades into the doors.

Each grenade exploded with a loud "BOOM!" The explosion propelled large amounts of shrapnel destroying the virus incubators, vials, needles, and other work that was going on. Everything was destroyed. The doors that the men entered in were locked. Peterson met them in front of the locked door they entered into.

"Gentlemen." He said with a smile. "I cannot begin to thank you enough. You all have been such a big help." He extended his arm, holding a .38 special revolver. In quick succession, he shot each one in the head right between their eyes. He reached into his trench coat pocket and pulled out a Molotov Cocktail; a Russian bomb filled with kerosine and a rag in the opening. He lit the rag, and burned the bodies as he exited the secret lab.

The book case entrance shut behind him. And it was never accessed again.

Andrew Corelli
Andrew Corelli
Huntsman

May-8-2012 18:44

A knock in the door and in the other side a cough, it was like that for a couple of times.

"Mister Davis?" Andrew Corelli covered his nose with a handkerchief, the smell of alcohol and disinfectants was penetrating even in that side of the door "Would you mind opening the door? I'd like to talk to you."

"No!" and again someone coughing.

"Everything is ok?"

A loud noise was enough answer for Corelli, who took a step back and tackled the door a couple of times, He stopped howling in pain, taking note about yet another difference between real life and movies.

He heard the sound of locks and the door opened just enough so he could see an eye.

"William Davis? I'm detective Corelli from the NYPD, I'd like to have a word with you..."

"Impossible."

"It's about a one of your friends, Charles Johnson." a face appeared, full of blisters "I don't think we can talk in the hallway."

The door opened and the man full of blisters appeared and motioned Corelli to enter.

"Don't touch a thing, detective."

Corelli still holding against his face the handkerchief nodded.

"Charlie told you about everything, right?"

"Unfortunately we couldn't talk to Charlie, he's dead, Mr. Davis."

"What!?" Davis got pale, and for a minute Corelli thought the man was going to faint.

"Mr. Davis, don't get me wrong, but would you mind opening a window? The smell..."

"No!" the man exploded "You don't know a thing, detective!"

"That's why we need your cooperation..."

"There's nothing you can do now. Nothing! Get out of here!"

"What? Mr. Davis, I'm sure you know you can help us..."

"Get out of here, now!" the man started coughing again "Now!"

Back in his desk, Corelli was without a clue, so he picked up the phone.

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