The Puzzle Death (part 1)

PRELUDE

A black abyss… A lone figure sat in the darkness by a single lit candle. On the table in front of him sat a box. Hundreds of thousands of pieces were scattered among the table and the floor.

His face could not be seen, if he had one it could not have been said. The ominous figure reached for a jagged piece. It was painted blood red…

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Ambulances and pedestrians crowded the streets around the already crowded Towers Apartments . Police tried to keep the people away from the taped off area.

“How did it happen?” A short man asked the person next to him. 1

“She fell…” was the only answer. The victim’s sister stood sobbing. A single embrace comforted her. The crowd began to slowly disperse, they had other business to attend to, and after all they hadn’t died. “How did she fall?” The short man questioned as he walked away.

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The shadowed man reached for a blue-red piece completing an ambulance’s alert light. He blew out the lone candle. Darkness seemed to fall immediately upon the city. Footsteps, if you were there, could be heard echoing down a hall.

FINDINGS

Day came as the sun glistened through a broken door; glass fragments littered the carpeted floor. The forensics divisions of the city’s police were carefully searching the apartment. “Fingerprints found, surprisingly, they all belong to the girl” ”hair strands over here,” “footprints,” echoed the many inspectors’ voices.

~ Funny, they still don’t know. Look at them, the fools, going through my rooms, my things. ~

An inspector ran his flashlight under the girl’s fridge, “Sir?”

~ Ah, yes, the Mexican…of course he’d find it… ~

“What Carlos?” said the lieutenant.

He hesitated; surely, something so insignificant was not worth the Sir’s time.

~ Show it to him! ~

“I seem to have found … a puzzle-piece, Sir.” Why the heck did I say that? Carlos demanded himself. “Wow,” said the Sir mockingly. “How fantastic.”

~ Idiot! ~

“All right, bag everything people. Carlos do you need a paper baggie for your game piece?” The lieutenant walked out laughing at his own joke.

~ Idiot… ~

>……<

More of the picture came into view, as the Shadow proceeded to write his story. A blank white eye appeared in the left upper corner of the puzzle. Fire, seemed to resonate from the eye’s core.

WRITINGS

He walked into the room, the one that she was usually in, the microscope room. But that wasn't Carlos' only reason for being there. He wanted to prove his jerk boss wrong.

“What do you have there?” She inquired softly.

“A…puzzle-piece.” Carlos’ face began to redden.

“Why?”

“I hate our boss.”

She was quiet for a moment, then, “Fair enough.”

He applied the piece to a glass slip and anchored it on the microscope’s platform. Examining it he found some hidden lines. He improved the focus. Immediately words came into view upon the blood-red piece… He could not understand the runes for they were ancient.

>……<

~ You idiot, how could you show him that?! ~

The Shadow stood looking out his forever-dark window.

~ You pompous jack -- ~

“What are you going to do, Huh?! You can’t do anything. Sure, you have some hold over this man, but no one can even see you.” This was the first time she had heard the dark man talk, if not yell.

A BAG OF MYSTERIES

A smile lit up the old man’s face as if he had found buried treasure. “ Hey um… I don’t know what it was, but I found this sack of pieces and felt that I should turn it over to you guys.” The policeman offered a blank stare in return. “Well um… Say, do you have a Carlos here? I feel these should be given to a Carlos.” The old man started to fidget under the cop’s disbelieving gaze.

“Ye- yes we do, I’ll be sure to get it to him,” the cop gingerly grasped the sack.


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“Carlos!” Yelled the Lieutenant.

No answer.

“Carlos!” He scanned the area, “ Hey Frank you seen Carlos?”

“He said he needed rest.”

The lieutenant tossed the package onto Carlos’ cluttered desk. Pieces flew out of the bag as a result of the velocity. This caused the lieutenant to inspect . "What?" He exclaimed as he examined the pieces…

LATE NIGHTS AND HARD MORNINGS

Inferno. The “club”, if it could be called that, was the exact opposite of its name. Sweat encrusted floor tiles, dust covered barstools, and a termite eaten ceiling. Carlos, aside from the cockroaches feeding off the peanut shells, was its only patron.

He sat by the bar with his tie loosely undone and his sleeves rolled beyond his elbows, his forehead resting on his fists. 'How did it happen?' Questions had haunted his mind for days. Why did she fall? There was only evidence of her being there…

Standing up to stretch he glimpsed himself in a mirror on the opposite torn-up wall. 'Oh crap I look like a cartoonist .' Deep bags had formed under his eyes from the result of many-missed night of sleep. His face was oily and unshaven, the hair he still had was messy and dirty. 'I need a shower .' He really did. He couldn’t. His shower, much like every other appliance in his apartment, was on the fritz.

MONDAYS

Coffee. Drink it and you’ll feel drugged.

Carlos tried not to act it but he had a massive headache and ringing in his ears. “Hello,” the Sir had said to which Carlos replied idiot earning him a lecture on proper respect to the authorities.

“Yippee,” he droned. “Anyone got some nicotine gum?”

The lieutenant checked his temper. “Game for you.” He said venomously indicating the bag the geezer had left. “Have fun.” He turned on his heel and stomped away