VII: Heated Breaks pt. 2

            Her blonde curly hair bounced lightly as she returned from her gentle bow. “My name is Petra Tskova. I am one of the permanent staff on rotation here. Please come in.”

            “Good afternoon Ms. Tskova, I’m Detective Anderson, and this is Detective Cooper. We have a few questions before we speak with the Butcher. How many more house staff is there?” Anderson asked as he entered the manor. Cooper followed suit after taking one final scanning look at the grounds.

            “It’s what most would consider a skeleton crew. No more than five at a time,” Petra explained as she led them farther into the foyer. “We’re all on a three-month rotation.”

            “Only five of you here on the premise? Are any of the guards by chance?” Cooper asked as he studied the interior of the large house.

            “We’ve all had combat training, so we double as the guards. Unfortunately, that is all of the information I am at liberty to share, detectives. Now, if you would please,” Petra motioned towards the large staircase leading up. 

            The whole mansion had a nearly undisturbed stillness, almost as if time stood still within the walls. 

            “He’s beyond that door,” Petra motioned to the closed bedroom they now stood in front of.

            “I must give you two gentlemen fair warning. Red isn’t too fond of mortals, so if he comes across as unfriendly, know that it’s because of your mortality. My final piece of warning should be carefully heeded. There is a young woman within this room; no doubt she is somehow connected to the reason why you’re here. I understand that you two detectives have a job to do. Still, I strongly recommend that neither of you makes any attempt whatsoever to remove the young miss from this mansion.” Both detectives gave each quick puzzled looks before slowly nodding.

“With those words of caution, I leave you to your meeting.” Petra gave a polite bow and retreated back down the hall they had come.

            “That was a bit odd. What do you think she meant by all that?” Anderson wondered as he watched her disappear down the hall.

            “Not sure. I guess we’ll find out in a minute. Let’s get this over with, I suppose.”

            The interior of the room was pretty modest in its furnishings. A young woman lay in a bed. She looked more like a doll than a sleeping woman.

            A man sat in a chair, a coffee mug in front of him on the table. Their entrance didn’t elicit much of a response from the man beyond the momentary glance over his shoulder. His gaze fixed on some distant point beyond the window.

            “Is there anything I can do for you, gentlemen?”

            “You must be Red the Butcher. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m Detective Anderson.” Anderson said, staring to make his way towards Red, his hand slightly raised for a handshake.

            “How astute of you, Detective Anderson,” his voice calm but cold.

            Anderson, stopping in his tracks, straightened up. “We had a few questions for you. A couple of nights ago, there was an attack on a pair of women at a rave. One is now brain dead from massive blood loss, and the other had been thrown from a window. The second woman was seen being taken into a white van traced here through a driver named….”

            “How is John doing? I didn’t really get to see him when his people dropped her off the other night. I wouldn’t advise attempting to interact with her. She’s essentially in a coma while she’s going through a rebirth. I’m also afraid you’re not at liberty to take her away either; the laws are clear. Any and all immortals must be given over to and fall under the protection of Alba Mons.” Red said as he interrupted Anderson, his voice and gaze unchanged.

            “Excuse me? Suppose that young woman is, in fact, the same woman that was thrown out of the window by the attacker. In that case, she needs medical attention and has vital information in an ongoing investigation!”

            “You need to calm down and lower your voice. She’ll never be in any position to help you with your investigation. The young woman that could have helped you, gentlemen, sadly died in that fall. The gift of immortality takes from us when we first step through that threshold. I’m afraid to inform you that when she wakes, she won’t remember anything of her past life.”

            “How convenient, you hear that Cooper? ‘Sorry, can’t help. Get lost!’ I knew something like this would end up happening. If that young woman there really can’t help us, could we at the very least have the personal effects she came in with? Considering you said that the person she has died.”

            “I will allow you, two gentlemen, to leave here with that. Petra will see you out and hand over her things. She’s already in the hall waiting. If you would, please be on your way.”

            Cooper, the closest to the door, sighed in frustration and opened the door to find Petra on the other side holding a small closed box. “If you don’t mind, this way, Detectives.”

Anderson looked to the unmoving Red and then to the motionless woman on the bed, sighed heavily, and followed Cooper out of the bedroom. The walk back towards the front door felt numbingly surreal to him.

            With the small box in their possession and back in Anderson’s car, they both stared at the building they faced for a few moments before Anderson registered Cooper’s voice.

            “What was that, Jim?”

            “Did that whole thing just happen? Did that whole thing really happen just now? The whole thing’s fucked.”

            “Yeah the whole thing’s fucked. What’s in the box, Jim?”

            “Looks like a wallet, a slightly damaged cellphone, probably from when she hit the pavement, some keys, and a letter,” Cooper said as he looked inside the box.

            “A letter? What’s it say?”

            “Let’s see here, ‘I ask that you use these as you would. Within this box, you will find the identity of the young woman you most likely saw. Use that information to give her family closure, but for the sake of whoever that young woman wakes was, never let her know was about her past identity. Nor let her family come looking for her. That may seem like a cruel thing, but it is, in fact, that the kindest thing you could ever do.’ That’s it. It’s signed Red the Butcher. I didn’t think he had any kind of compassion from how he interacted with us in there. Still not sure if he does.” Cooper said, returning the letter back into the envelope that he found it in.

            “Let’s head back to the precinct and see what we can find in that phone.”