Tale 01: Murder at the Festival!
DETECTIVE ROWAN CARRERA
It wasn’t the fall that killed him. Though, that didn’t help.
I brushed a wavy black curl away from my face and squinted against the glare of the setting sun on the Majesty Hotel’s glass facade. A broken window glared back down at me several stories up. The poor sap must have fallen at least ten stories. But he was long dead before he hit the ground. The perfect circle hole on his chest—and right through his heart—made sure of it. The man’s face was frozen in a contorted expression. Shattered glass pierced his broken body and scattered across the otherwise pristine concrete floor, only feet away from the hotel's crystalline pool.
“Who was he?”
I snapped my attention to my partner Detective Aiden MacLennan. He held two coffees in his hand, the steam from the cups suggesting he probably purchased them from a nearby cart. He offered one to me, which I accepted with a nod. Aiden had arrived at Alloria only a few months ago, which explained his bright eyes as he marveled at the city’s vibrant ambience on cobblestone streets juxtaposed sleek, futuristic buildings. He was still getting to know the ropes, one rope being that I’m a much warmer person after caffeine.
I took a sip of the coffee and glanced down at my illegible scribbles on my notepad. “According to the man at the front desk, he was Alexander Himmel. Scientist. No ID on him, though, so we can’t say for sure.”
“The Alexander Himmel?” Aiden’s eyes widened. He brushed his thick brown beard ponderously. “He’s a well-known scientist for clean energy. I’ve seen him on the TV.” He knelt down, peering at the body’s broken face. “That does look like him.”
“We’ll still get a positive ID on him,” I said cautiously. “But yes, Dr. Himmel was supposed to speak at a panel in this festival this evening.”
“Who’d want him dead?” Aiden asked, a thoughtful lilt softening his brogue accent.
I bore my eyes through that perfect hole on the man’s—Dr. Himmel’s—chest, as though searching for answers while, in reality, I was trying to keep my emotions from flooding me. This case had all the same markings of a case close to my own chest. My fiancé Vince never showed up to the altar on our wedding day. Not a woman to be scorned, I had stormed into the Oasis Hotel, where he was staying, only to be met with an eerily quiet scene. I had found Vince’s body crumpled on his bedroom floor. My white wedding gown was soon smeared with his blood, as I tried everything humanly possible to bring him back to me.
A perfect hole through his chest. How this was even possible, I wasn’t sure. Still not. It defied anything I’ve ever seen.
And, yet, here it was again. Why now? Had the killer come back to haunt me?
I had chased every lead for years. Somehow, the killer evaded me.
My blood boiled with rage it hasn’t felt in five years. I knew one thing for sure—they won’t get away with it this time.
“This man was going to save the world,” Aiden said sadly. “What a waste.”
My attention snapped back to reality. I realized I pressed my notepad hard against my chest, as though covering the hole in my own heart. I said, “Not everyone wants this world to be saved.”
“Have you ever seen this kind of wound before?”
“I have,” I said. Aiden raised an eyebrow but I refused to go down that road with him. I quickly added, “No idea what could have caused it.”
“This city has some weird shit,” Aiden grunted. He nodded to a group of people nearby who were dressed as wizards, wands on one hand and cell phones on the other to take photos. “Now weird shit can blend in with the rest of the festival. Did I ever tell you about the legends of the crocodile haunting the sewers?”
“I don’t want to hear about that damn crocodile again!” I snapped at him. He raised his hands defensively and bowed his head.
“Ms. Carrera?”
I turned my head to see Andrew Larkin, a twitchy attendant from the Majesty Hotel’s front desk, waving at me. I corrected him before my mind registered the words that automatically tumbled out of my mouth from multiple repetitions. “Detective Carrera.”
“Detective Carrera,” the young man corrected himself nervously. My, he was a very twitchy fellow. Or smoked too much weed. “The head of security is ready for you.”
“Come on,” I beckoned to Aiden, who, by the expression on his face, still wanted to talk about the mythical Alloria crocodile. Feeling slightly guilty, I smiled softly as I tucked my notepad into my leather jacket. “We’ll talk about the crocodile later.” Aiden’s expression lit up at that. “Let’s go check out his room.”
We fell in step behind Andrew. Yep, definitely weed.
#
Andrew led us inside the Majesty Hotel to the front desk where Roger Smith, the Majesty Hotel’s head of security, awaited. Roger was a tall guy with broad shoulders and muscles so large they bulged out of his shirt and made the gun on his waist look like a toy. He beamed pearly white teeth at us as we approached him. “Detectives! Right this way.”
As he led us to the elevator, he spoke animatedly about how busy security has been lately with the festival. Mostly harmless, he assured us. That was, of course, until now. I quietly noted to myself that Roger desperately needed less B12 supplements. Aiden, on the other hand, fed off of Roger’s energy and listened with a huge smile on his face.
I tapped my foot impatiently as we waited for what felt like an eternity before the elevator finally arrived. Fourteen floors later, we emerged into a hallway decorated in retro style, a stark contrast to the hotel’s flashy exterior and the glossy room card in Roger’s hand. The card looked official—perhaps the master key to all rooms? We walked the entire length of a hallways before Roger slid the anachronism into room 1423’s key slot and pushed the door open a crack. He asked over his broad shoulder, “Ready?”
Aiden glanced at me nervously. “Ladies first.”
“Afraid a giant crocodile is in there?” I asked with a smirk.
“Why? Why would you say that?” Aiden lamented.
I nodded at Roger, who pushed the door open. Shadows lurk at every corner and behind every object inside the suite. The TV had a hole—another perfect circle—right in the middle of it and through the wall. I approached the hole to further inspect it. “What’s behind this wall?”
“The suite next door,” Roger said.
“Did you talk to the guests there?” I asked.
“We knocked but nobody answered.” Roger replied. “We tried reaching the number listed under the reservation without much luck.”
Suspicious, I thought to myself. But it’s not uncommon for guests to never return to their rooms for a variety of reasons ranging from waiting in lines to making new friends and “friends.” If a wild shot went through the wall, it’s possible that no one was around and that no one’s been around to notice it, too.
“What about his neighbor on the other side?” I asked, looking at the wall across from the hole. “Did they hear anything unusual?”
“There’s no other neighbor. The other side is the staircase.”
I continued my sweep in the room. A chair was knocked over and the table was split in half. On the far end of the room was a wall-sized window that overlooked the pools below and the stately Alloria Castle on the hill. Police tape hung across the window—just in case someone missed the gigantic hole in it. Blood was splattered around that area.
“Definitely looks like a fight happened,” Aiden observed.
I peeked into the bedroom. A roller luggage near the bed. An assortment of clothes hung in the closet. Nothing too out of the ordinary. I noted two vents in the suite.
“The last card key entries were his key,” Roger said. “Last one occurring last night at 11PM last night. Security cameras in the halls show the victim entering the room. No one else entered with him.”
“Could the killer have been in there already?” I asked, as I crouched to peek into one of the vents. “How far back did you search?”
“Possible but unlikely. We searched a couple days back.”
“And these vents?” I inspected the vent. Dust collected on the edges of the opening. These vents haven’t been opened in a while.
“It’s unlikely,” Roger repeated.
Aiden and I swept the rest of the suite, bagging some evidence. I noted a laptop bag, but no laptop. After we did our search, Roger led us back to the first floor and into the security room that hummed with multiple monitors and computers. He pointed to one monitor that showed the familiar retro hallway of the fourteenth floor and rewinded the footage. We watched as an encumbered Alex Himmel rolled his luggage out of the elevator and straight to his room. The timestamp of the video indicated this happened a few days ago. Roger then fast-forwarded the video. Dr. Himmel went in and out of his room several times, usually with a cellphone pressed against his ear.
“Busy man,” Aiden commented.
“How many people have a master key?” I asked Roger.
“Just the managers and me,” he replied.
“Any of those keys reported missing?”
“None.”
“Good god,” Aiden breathed, as he leaned forward suddenly. I turned my attention back to the old security footage. Roger paused the fast-forwarding in time for us to see someone in a purple bunny suit saunter into the hallway and shuffle into the room next to Himmel’s.
“When was this?” I asked.
“Yesterday,” Roger replied.
“Did this bunny person ever leave their room?” I asked.
“He must have,” Roger stammered. “We knocked on that door to see if anyone was in there, but no one answered.” He fast-forwarded the recording.
An assortment of festival-goers entered and left the screen in various states of inebriation. I noted the moment where Alex Himmel entered his room for the very last time.
But the bunny person never emerged from the room.
#
“The bunny person should still be in that room,” I said, as we briskly made our way to the lobby and waited at the elevators again.
“Why didn’t he answer the door, though?” Roger asked, his voice tinged with panic.
“We will find out,” I said. I tapped my foot impatiently. “We could probably walk the stairs faster than this elevator will take to get to us.”
Right as I said that, the elevator opened with a ding and we squeezed in quickly. As the elevator closed, we heard someone yell, “Hold the elevator!”
Aiden press on the “Door Open” button. Our collective jaws dropped open, as a person in a purple bunny suit stuffed himself in the elevator with us. The bunny person said, “Fourteen please—ah, you guys are already going there.”
The elevator began its slow ascent up. The bunny man nodded to Roger, who didn’t nod back. Aiden and I exchanged wide glances. Aiden cleared his throat and asked, “Turning in so early?”
The bunny man let out a loud laugh. “I’ve actually been up since yesterday night.”
“Because bunnies nocturnal?” I asked, an eyebrow arched.
“We’re actually crepuscular,” the bunny man corrected with a self-righteous snort and shake of his gigantic head, his ears flopping side to side. “It’s a common misconception.”
“So what does a ‘crepuscular’ person,” Aiden asked, “do in the night that has them coming back so early in the morning, then?”
“There was this crazy party. And then another. And then—well, a bunny doesn’t kiss and tell,” the bunny man giggled. “Time really flies when you’re having fun. I think I’m technically legally insane right now.”
The elevator dinged as its door opened to the fourteenth floor once again. We circled the bunny man, with Roger slowly bringing up the rear. I asked the bunny man, “When did you leave last night?”
“Around 11:15PM, I think?”
“Did you see the man staying in the room next to yours?” I asked.
The bunny man stopped in his tracks. “No. Why?” He leaned his large bunny head at me, perhaps to get a better lock at the badge on my jacket. “Are you guys cops or something?”
“We’re investigating an incident in the room next to yours,” I explained.
“Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “So that crime scene outside—the man next door to me was the one who fell?”
“We need to know your whereabouts last night,” I said.
“I told you!” the bunny man said, his arms raised defensively. “I was at a party! I have proof!”
The bunny person reached into a hidden pocket near his fluffy tail. I instinctively reached for my gun, but the bunny man pulled out his cellphone. He slipped off his bunny gloves so he could open the phone. “See! Here!” He swiped through his phones to show us selfies at the party from last night. Same bunny costume. The bunny man pulled off his bunny head so we confirmed he was in some of the…. bunny-suit-less shots.
“Aye, that’s you alright,” Aiden murmured as he squinted at the photos and turned his head in different angles. “Sounds like that party was… hopping.”
I sighed at Aiden. “So if you were at the party,” I began, “why didn’t we see you leave the room in the security tapes…” I trailed off. My ears rang, as I heard the bunny man mention “spliced video feed” through slow motion fuzz in my head. My eyes rested on Roger, who was already halfway down the hall toward the elevator.
“You can ask this guy here! He saw me when I was leaving my room—“ the bunny man turned to Roger, who was no longer beside him.
I was already running. “Stop!”
Roger spun around and bolted toward the elevator. I heard Aiden curse behind me and then his feet pounding the floor. The bunny man uttered, “What the…”
Roger presses the elevator buttons. As I close in on him, he darts down another hallway. I ran faster than I ever ran in my life. When I got close, he stopped and pulled the gun from his holster. I kicked the gun in time for a bright laser to get discharged from the gun and leave a perfect circle on the wall where it hit.
I couldn’t understand what I just saw! But I knew immediately when he took aim again that it wouldn’t be good. I lean forward, staying low, and launch myself at him, using my body weight to pull him down to the floor. We fell over to the floor. I felt a singe at the tip of my ear and heard the gun clatter on the tiled floor.
Roger pulled himself above me and I felt a stinging pain as he punched me on my cheek. I kneed him on the groin, causing him to collapse in pain. I pushed him back on the floor and straddled him, all the while punching his face.
“Oh my god…” I heard Aiden utter when he finally caught up with us.
“The gun!” I yelled at him. I watched Aiden run to the gun and pick it up. I turned my attention back to Roger, who’s squirming below me. I gripped his neck tightly. “Is that how you killed him?”
Roger grunted beneath my grip. And then, he started to laugh. I punched his face again. And then again. He doesn’t stop laughing.
As though he knew exactly who I meant.
“Rowan!” Aiden pulled on my arm, trying to ease me up. “Lass! Stop that! Save that questioning for later!” He jerked back when I elbowed him on his large nose. It was only half accidental—his large nose was hard to avoid. He staggered back. “Damnit, Rowan!”
I ignored him and kept pummeling Roger until my hands were bleeding and raw. Roger was still laughing, blood flowing from his nose. He doesn’t seem to have any inclination to escape. I yelled at him, “Tell me! I need to know!”
His laughter wouldn’t stop. Even after I numbly pulled myself off him to rest against the wall. Even after Aiden slapped handcuffs on him and radioed in back up.
The bunny man looked on from down the hall, stunned. “I really must have gone insane.”
#
I should have gone to the station with Aiden. Instead, I found myself at the Majesty Hotel’s bar, nursing a whisky in my bruised and bandaged hands. The whisky, along with the loud conversation and music, drown my thoughts.
“A whisky please.”
Aiden plopped on the stool next to me. I asked him, “Aren’t you supposed to be at the station?”
“Some official, top-secret-looking people came in and took over,” Aiden replied.
“How could you know how a top-secret person looks like? Wouldn’t that be top-secret?” I asked wryly.
Aiden playfully nudged my arm. “You know what I mean. We did confirm that Roger tampered with the security feed and spliced the time when he actually entered the room. The bunny man confirmed that he saw Roger when he left his room to the party, and that Roger was heading toward Dr. Himmel’s room.”
“And the gun?”
Aiden shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like that before. Hence, the top-secret-looking people. It seemed… out of this world. Straight out of some sci-fi movie. Like, some alien technology. ”
“Got that right,” I murmured numbly. I wracked my mind on what I could have possibly seen. Top-secret technology was way above my pay grade.
Aiden glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “So. That was… violent.”
“He had it coming.”
“He did,” Aiden agreed. The bartender placed a whisky in front of him. Aiden thanked him and took a sip from his glass. “Do you want to talk about it?”
No, I thought to myself. But also, yes. I took another sip from my glass, let the whisky burn my throat and heart, then let out a sigh. “My fiancé Vince died years ago. Same exact wound.”
“I figured.”
“Oh? How?”
“Psychic,” Aiden said, his hands out and fingers wiggling so dramatically that I snorted. He continued, “But also the people at the lab told me. They said they are going to run tests. It’ll take some time, but they said they’re certain that Roger’s DNA would match the one found at Vince’s crime scene. They said they thought you might be interested.” Aiden shrugged. “I had no idea who Vince was, but I deduced.” He smiled proudly. “Like the good detective I am.”
I didn't react. My feelings were as raw as my cracked knuckles and I didn't feel like peeling them open. So, instead, I murmured, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
We sat in silence for a while. Aiden broke the silence, “So about that crocodile…”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I exclaimed, letting out a laugh that felt surprisingly good. I felt the release that I couldn’t feel when I was pummeling Roger. Whether he had killed Vince or not, I realize I am the same today as I was yesterday. And I didn’t want that.
I wanted to be better.
“There’s actually one more thing,” Aiden said.
I groaned. “I don’t know if I can take one more thing.”
“Alexander Himmel’s panel went on today,” Aiden said. “With Alexander Himmel.”
I blinked my eyes, trying to piece together his words through the fuzz of the whisky. “That must have been hard to do, with a hole in his chest and all.” When Aiden didn’t smile, I pressed, “What are you telling me, MacLennan?”
“Either Alexander Himmel has a very convincing clone. Or, more likely, the victim yesterday was not Alexander Himmel.”
My bar stool toppled to the ground as I bolted to my feet. “So then who the hell did we find dead at the Majesty Hotel's pool terrace?”
For once, Aiden had nothing to say. I pressed my hand against my forehead and knocked back the rest of my drink. Seems Alloria has its secrets.
Author Notes
07/31/2021
When I met the renown author Jim Butcher in person at a convention, I asked him what his advice was for an aspiring author. He told me: once you're done with a story, move on to the next.
I hope you enjoyed this first taste of Wimmelbilder Tales! I've been sitting on this story for a while and am happy to finally share it. And, as Butcher suggested, move on to the next one! The anthology is loosely connected stories, so you haven't seen the last of Rowan and Aiden! I also may come back and tweak this story at some point!
Thank you for reading! :) Shout out to Yosen and Tri for bearing with me with this and with, well, everything. <3