Title: Unmasking the Darkness
How did you find it?” Colin asked the officer who looked at him, a gleam in his eye.
“This was hanging out of it,” he replied, handing him a tarot card. “We were about to pry it open, but found a hidden button to push.”
The opening led to a large room, a round table with multiple ornate chairs stood as alert soldiers around it. On the walls, symbols written in red paint danced in jagged lines. The smell overpowering, sage and candle wax from the multiple candles sitting on the center of the table, burnt wicks from recent use. Their flashlights lit up the corners. Jim found a light-switch, the lights from above beamed a deep blood red. At the head of the table, a chair was pointing toward the back of the wall. Jim walked around and found the body of a woman, a tarot card peeked out from the pocket in her blouse. Her face was frozen with skin that bore the waxy pallor or death. Her lips tinged a faint bluish gray, parted slightly.
“Do you recognize her?” Jim asked.
Grace came up from behind. “That’s Vivian Cross.”
“Hey, look what I found,” the officer shouted from a recess in the wall. He pulled out a hard drive, connected with multiple cords. “Looks like some sort of recording device with sound and video maybe?”
“Look Jim, on the table.” Colin said. On the end of the table another small bell on top of a sheet of paper, names were listed including the suspects. An eerie sound, scratches on a wall, breathing of a beast surrounded them, then stopped. They gave each other a confused look.
“Looks like this device also plays noises.” the officer said. Jim took a deep breath.
“Let’s get the crime scene team in here. We need to bring in the suspects for a second round of questioning,” Jim barked his orders and the officer scrambled, rushing toward the door. The lights above flickered. Colin and Jim jumped at the sound of low deep laugh that echoed around them, jumping from wall to wall. Were they being watched?
“I will gather them,” Colin said, shivering.
“Hey, look,” Jim pointed to the very center of the table — a tiny bell just like found by the recent victim along with a sheet of paper, its edges burned. He picked up and examined it. “It’s the same bell, what does the paper say?”
“It’s a list of names, including the three main subjects and victims,” Colin replied. “It isn’t the exact same bell is it? I thought that one was in evidence.”
Colin was going through the list, his brows furrowed in deep lines. Jim looked around the room. You could almost hear his joints creaking and knocking together.
“I need to get out of here,” Jim said, shining his flashlight at Colin.
He watched the back of Jim heading back down the hallway. He had to run to keep up.
Lila, her back straight, sat in her chair across from the detectives. She grasped the edges of her seat, her eyes wide darting from one to the other, her breath came shallow and quick, as if she was preparing to run. When Jim set his eyes on her, she cowered.
“You know Lila,” Jim started, his gaze bored through her, “we don’t like being lied to. I don’t like being lied to.”
Her lower lip began to quiver controllably. “I didn’t lie. I told you everything.”
“We know about the fraud, Lila,” Jim replied. Colin kept his eyes down, his expression neutral. He looked up and captured her gaze, tears beginning to well up, making her eyes look like pools of turmoil.
“I am so sorry. What do you want me to say? Of course, I knew Cassandra was looking into fraud here at the convention. She hounded people with her insinuations. I wasn’t surprised when she ended up dead.”
Colin pushed the list of names. “Your name is on here along with others. Does this relate to fraud?”
Lila glanced at the piece of paper, shaking her head. “No, this doesn’t look familiar. She wasn’t investigating me. I did see her and Edward arguing the day before. I overhead her saying she was going to expose the truth about something. Maybe he was a fraud.”
“He said that he was trying to get closure, are you sure that’s what he said?” Jim asked.
“Closure for what?” Lila’s body jerked in a single laugh, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. “That’s not what I heard.”
“What did you hear?” Colin asked. Jim sat back in his chair, his arms crossed and waited while she looked back and forth.
“He definitely committed some kind of fraud. I overheard some conversations Cassandra had made over the phone. Blackmail and threats of exposure. Cassandra had promised to expose him to everyone.”
“One more question Lila, if you don’t mind. We found a room, hidden within the conference center, did you know anything about it?”
Lila looked at Jim with large doe eyes, shaking her head. “I haven’t, sorry.”
Jim had maintained his poker face while Colin smiled and nodded.
“Have you heard of Vivine Cross?” Colin asked.
“She’s a reporter,” Lila said. “She was supposed to meet with Cassandra. I overheard their conversation.”
“What did you hear?”
“The reporter wanted information,” she replied. “I didn’t hear the other end of their conversation, she was on the phone. You should talk to Victor about the blackmail.”
“We will,” Jim said. “Please go with the officer.”
Victor leaned back in the chair with his arms crossed tightly across his chest, his jaw clenching so hard the muscle twitched.
“For the third time,” he snapped, each word clipped and cool, “I don’t know anything.”
Colin placed sheets of paper from the files in front of Victor.
“These are deleted emails we found on Cassandra’s laptop,” Colin said, watching him unravel. Tears started to well in his eyes, washing down his cheeks.
“Okay,” he said, “Cassandra had manipulated and took money from my sister. I was angry. I confronted her, but I didn’t kill her.”
“Thanks for telling us something we already know. We overheard an argument in secret recordings in the secret room.”
“Secret room?” he asked, his eyes wild. “How did…?”
“We found it and we found the body of an investigative reporter, Vivian Cross. Do you know her?” Jim said stoically.
“I knew of her,” he replied, “but I didn’t kill her either.”
“We will figure out if you’re lying.”
Victor pushed his chair back abruptly and left the room.
Jim wore a slow, smug smile that curled at the corners of his mouth like he was savoring a private joke. Colin knew that smile. He was in his element. Jim sat back against the chair, fingers steepled in front of him, entirely at ease.
“Bring in Edward,” he said, his voice carrying a slick, self-satisfied tone – measure and deliberate.
Edward came through the door with a spring in his gait and his head held high. It was as if nothing had happened and nothing could touch him. Jim was ready.
“Have you figured out who did it yet? I am hoping to get the convention back running soon.”
“It takes as long as it takes. It helps if people are honest with us,” Jim replied.
“We want to know about these financial discrepancies,” Colin had opened a file and placed a page in front of Edward.
Edward sat staring at the sheet of paper, a copy of a ledger. “Where did you get this?” His words came out slow, carefully weighing his words.
“We found it with Cassandra’s things.” Colin said.
Jim was getting impatient. “You must know about the secret room? We heard your voice on a recording, so don’t bother denying it.”
Victor rested his elbows on the table, his head in his hands. His brows furrowed, concentrating, his eyes fixed on the wall behind the detectives. He was rigid, sitting upright, but the cracks began to show. He was tapping his foot erratically under the table. Then his shoulders slumped. The fight drained from his posture, and he sank into the chair like the air had gone out of him. The calm front melted, each word a drip of emotion.
“Okay, okay,” he sputtered. “We have a secret society within the community. That’s what the room is for. Only for those who pay. I am only trying to protect the event’s reputation.”
“I’ve got something,” Grace announced through the open door.
Copyright © Rachel D. Knepp.
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means—including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods—without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in reviews or critical articles.