Sleepless in Chicago
Stories similar to this that you might like too.
Amanda was still awake when I got home from work. She’d been up all night, and she looked exhausted as hell. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her hair a mess of tangles that had probably never seen the inside of a brush before today. The only thing on her mind right now seemed to be getting some sleep so we could get back out there tomorrow morning.
“Hey,” I said quietly, sitting down next to her on the couch. “How are you feeling?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “I’m tired.”
“Yeah? So am I. Let’s go upstairs and crash for an hour or two until it gets light outside again.”
We went into my bedroom together, but instead of climbing under the covers like normal people do, Amanda just flopped onto the bed without even taking off her shoes. It wasn’t long after that she fell asleep with me lying beside her.
We didn’t say anything else to each other; neither of us wanted to wake up the other if they started snoring. But then something happened that made me sit bolt upright in bed: I heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
It took me a second to realize who those steps belonged—and by the time I did, I already knew what was going through their head at this moment. They weren’t thinking about how much they missed me, wondering where I was, or hoping I would come home soon.
No, these feet were headed straight toward our room because someone had finally figured out exactly why I hadn’t shown up yet…
And now he knows everything.
The door opened slowly, letting in enough light to see him standing there looking around nervously. He must have thought we wouldn’t hear his approach over the sound of the TV downstairs, but he couldn’t know that Amanda was sleeping right behind me. And since she’d been awake all day, she might actually be able to pick up on things better than I could.
He froze when he saw us both lying side by side on the bed, staring up at him silently. Then he turned away quickly and closed the door softly behind himself. That was good news for me, though not necessarily for Amanda. If I had any chance of keeping him from finding out what really happened last night, I needed to make sure he left immediately.
So I sat up and pulled myself across the bed to stand between them. When I reached out and grabbed hold of his arm, he jumped back reflexively. His eyes darted frantically around the room, searching for somewhere to run. There wasn’t anywhere to hide here. Not unless he tried to climb out the window. Which would take too damn long.
“You can leave,” I told him calmly. “But first tell me your name.”
His face paled slightly. “My name is…”
“What does ‘H’ mean?”
He hesitated. “Uh…it means nothing. Just letters. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m leaving.”
That sounded promising. Maybe he was planning to go far away and never look back. Unfortunately, I doubted that very much. I let go of his arm and stepped aside so he could walk past me. Instead, he spun around and threw himself against the wall hard enough to crack the plaster.
“Don’t touch me!” he shouted angrily. “Just stay away! Don’t ever talk to me again!”
Then he ran out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him.
I waited another minute or two to make sure he was gone before turning to check on Amanda. She was still fast asleep, curled up tightly in the fetal position beneath the blankets. I shook her gently once to make sure she was okay, then climbed into bed beside her. After a few minutes, she woke up and smiled at me.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hey yourself.”
We lay there quietly for a while longer, watching the sun rise above the horizon. Finally, she spoke up.
“Do you think he’ll try to find us?”
“No way. He doesn’t want to risk running into anyone else who might recognize him. Besides, he has no idea where we live. All he knows is that we’re staying at a hotel downtown.”
“Good.”
“Yeah.”
After that, we talked about whatever came to mind. Neither of us mentioned the events of the previous evening, nor did either of us mention the fact that we were sharing a bed. Eventually, though, the conversation drifted back to the case.
“Did you figure out anything more about the killer?” I asked.
Amanda nodded. “Yes, but I’m afraid it’s bad news.”
“Bad news? What kind of bad news?”
She sighed heavily. “There are only three possible explanations as to why he killed those women. One possibility is that he was hired by some other person or group to kill them. The second is that he was doing it on his own initiative, which means he was probably mentally ill. And the third is that he was following orders from someone else.”
“Who would give him such an order?”
“Well, if he was working alone, maybe he just decided to do something like that one day. But if he was being ordered to commit murder, then whoever gave him the job would have to be extremely powerful. Powerful enough to control someone with mental problems.”
“Like a cult leader?”
“Exactly. Someone like that could easily convince people to follow his every command without question. In fact, that’s exactly what happened during World War II. Hitler convinced millions of Germans to believe in him completely, even though they knew he was evil.”
“How can you be sure this guy isn’t part of a Nazi-style organization?”
“It’s impossible to say for certain until we get our hands on the bodies. We should be able to determine whether or not he was wearing a uniform, and if he was carrying any identification papers. Once we have that information, we can start tracking down leads based on what he looks like. It won’t help us catch him, but it will narrow down the search area considerably.”
“Okay. So how many victims do you think there actually are?”
“At least six. At most ten.”
“Ten?”
“The police found four sets of remains yesterday morning. They’ve already been identified as the missing girls. Two of them went missing over twenty years ago, and the others disappeared within the last year.”
“Wow. How old were they?”
“All of them were teenagers. Some of them were younger than fifteen. Most of their families didn’t report them missing right away because they thought they’d come home eventually.”
“So these poor kids died somewhere between when they vanished and now.”
“Right.”
“And nobody noticed until now?”
“Nobody cared. Nobody wanted to know. That’s why I couldn’t understand why all those parents showed up at the station house yesterday afternoon. Why wouldn’t they wait until after the funeral service to file a missing persons report? If they had done that, we could have started looking for them sooner.”
“Maybe the parents didn’t realize that the children were dead.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, I mean, it seems strange that none of the parents seemed surprised to see the body bags. You don’t usually react that way unless you expect to open the caskets and find your child inside.”
“You may be onto something there. I’ll have to ask Detective DeSoto about it later today. Did you notice anything unusual about the way the bodies looked?”
“Not really. Except for the fact that they were naked.”
“That’s true. There weren’t any clothes in the casket with them. Not even shoes.”
“But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Maybe the killer took the clothing off of the corpses himself.”
“True. Or maybe he stole them from the victims’ homes. Either way, we need to look into it further. For now, let’s focus on finding out who the killer is. Then we can worry about everything else.”
“Agreed.”
***
I awoke early Sunday morning, showered, dressed, and headed downstairs to grab breakfast. When I got to the lobby, Amanda was sitting at a table near the front entrance. She waved me over.
“Hey,” she said. “Are you ready to go?”
“Sure am. Where are we going first?”
“We’re meeting with Detective DeSoto in less than an hour. After that, we’ll head to the morgue so we can take a closer look at the bodies.”
“Sounds good. Anything special I should know before we meet with him?”
“No. Just make sure you stay calm around him. He tends to get upset pretty quickly if anyone starts yelling at him.”
“Gotcha. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention my name again. Don’t talk about the murders. And definitely don’t tell him that you saw the bodies.”
“Why not?”
“Because he might decide to arrest you instead of the murderer. Trust me; you don’t want that to happen.”
“Oh, okay. Got it. No problem.”
She smiled. “Good. Now hurry up and eat. The detective will probably be here soon.”
After finishing my meal, I returned to the room and packed up my things. By the time I finished, the bellhop had arrived to collect our luggage. As I followed him outside, I spotted a familiar face standing by the curb.
Detective DeSoto walked toward us. His expression remained neutral, but his eyes darted back and forth nervously.
“Morning, Detective,” I greeted him.
He nodded curtly.
“Hi, Mr. Cooper. Good luck with your investigation.”
“Thanks. See you guys later.”
As I turned away, the detective grabbed my arm.
“Wait! What did you just call me?”
“Call you what?”
“Mr. Cooper. I’m Detective DeSoto. Call me ‘DeSoto.’ Please.”
“Sorry, sir. But everyone calls you ‘Cooper.'”
“Fine. Whatever works best for you.”
“Thank you.”
With that, he released my arm.
“See ya,” I muttered under my breath.
Amanda led the way down the sidewalk, then stopped abruptly.
“Where are we going next?”
“To the morgue. We need to check out the bodies.”
“Okay.”
“Do you mind if I drive this time?”
“Nope. Go ahead.”
A few minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot behind the building where the coroner’s office was located. A sign posted above the door read:
MORGUE
(Coroner)
The place appeared to be deserted. It wasn’t surprising since most people would rather avoid the morgue altogether.
“This looks like the perfect opportunity to sneak in without being seen,” I whispered as I stepped out of the car.
“How do you plan to accomplish that?”
“By pretending to be someone else.”
“Like who?”
“Me. I’ll pretend to be a doctor or something. That way, no one will question why I’m walking through the doors.”
“And how exactly will you pull that off? Do you have some kind of disguise kit hidden in your pocket somewhere?”
“Of course not. All I’ll have to do is put on a pair of scrubs and carry a clipboard.”
“Is that all?”
“Yep. Easy peasy.”
“Whatever you say.”
I opened the trunk and retrieved two large black garbage bags. I tossed one to Amanda, then tied the other bag shut and handed it to her.
“What are those for?” she asked.
“You’ll see when we get inside.”
Once we’d entered the building, I made a quick stop at the reception desk.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Can you please direct me to Dr. Anderson?”
“Dr. Anderson isn’t here today. You can leave a message with the secretary.”
“Can you give me the number?”
“It’s listed on the answering machine.”
I dialed the extension and waited patiently while the recording played. Once the line clicked, I spoke.
“Hello, this is Doctor Cooper. I’ve been trying to reach you regarding the case. If you could return my call, that would be great. Thank you.”
When I hung up, the woman looked at me curiously.
“Who were you calling?” she asked.
“Myself.”
“Huh?”
“That was my own personal phone number. I called myself to let them know I needed to speak with Dr. Anderson.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well…that’s just…”
“Crazy, right?”
She shook her head slowly. “Yeah, crazy.”
We continued down the hall until we reached the elevator. After pressing the button, I glanced over at Amanda. She stared straight ahead, seemingly oblivious to anything happening around us.
“So, what now?” she mumbled.
“Now we wait.”
“For what?”
“Until the detectives show up.”
***
Minutes ticked by as we stood there waiting. Eventually, an older man wearing a lab coat approached from the opposite end of the hallway. He carried several files under his arm.
“Ah, good morning, gentlemen. How may I help you?”
“Uh, hi. My name is Cooper. I’m a private investigator hired by the family of one of these victims.”
“Oh, yes. Of course. Let me take care of that.”
He took the file from my hand and began scanning its contents. When he finished, he placed the folder on top of the counter.
“There you go. Now, which room should I escort you to first?”
“Actually, I already checked out the rooms earlier. I only need to look at the bodies.”
“Bodies?” The man raised his eyebrows. “All three of them?”
“Yes. There’s nothing more important than finding out who killed our clients.”
“Very well. Follow me.”
As soon as he turned away, Amanda grabbed my arm.
“Wait! What about the police?”
“They’re coming. Don’t worry.”
After following him past several rows of offices, we finally arrived at a set of double doors marked BODY ROOMS.
“Here you are,” said the doctor as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.
Inside, six stainless steel tables lined the walls. Each table had a body lying on top of it. Three men and three women. They each wore white hospital gowns, but their faces were covered with sheets.
“Which one is mine?” I asked.
“Your client is on the third bed.”
Amanda gasped. “But…but they haven’t even started working on her yet!”
“Don’t worry. We’ll make sure everything goes smoothly.”
With that, the doctor walked back toward the entrance.
“Hey, wait a minute,” I shouted after him. “Aren’t you going to tell anyone that we’re here?”
The doctor stopped and spun around. His eyes narrowed. “Why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t, someone might notice that all the patients are missing.”
His lips curled into a smirk. “If you think I’m stupid enough to risk losing my job because of a few corpses, then you obviously aren’t very smart.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have told us where to find them.”
“Go ahead. Take your time. Look around.”
Without another word, he disappeared behind the swinging doors.
I glanced at Amanda. Her face was pale.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on, Am. It’s not like you’ve never seen dead people before.”
“No, I mean, I guess I hadn’t thought about it, but…it’s different seeing them in person.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I understand.”
“Do you want to stay or—”
A loud crash echoed through the room. Glass shattered against the floor. A second later, the front door flew open, followed closely by two uniformed officers. One officer rushed inside while the other stayed outside.
“You guys okay?” asked the first cop.
“Fine,” replied the doctor. “Just some kids playing pranks.”
“Kids? You’re kidding, right?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, I hope you catch whoever did this.”
“Me too.”
“Okay, well, we better get moving. Thanks for letting us use the facilities.”
Once the cops left, I turned back to Amanda.
“Are you ready to see your client again?”
“Sure.”
Together, we made our way across the room. As we neared the far wall, I noticed something strange. Something wasn’t quite right.
“Hold on. Why does everyone look so much younger than when we saw them last night?”
“Maybe they died during the day.”
“That doesn’t explain why they’d be dressed differently.”
“It could be because they changed clothes after they passed away.”
“Or…”
My voice trailed off as I stared down at the woman on the third table. She looked exactly the same as she had the previous evening. But now, instead of a white sheet covering her face, a black cloth dangled over her head.
“Whoa.”
Her hair was dark brown, almost black. And unlike the rest of the victims’ heads, hers didn’t appear to have any blood stains. In fact, aside from the bandage wrapped around her neck, she appeared completely unharmed.
“Is that…her?”
“Looks like it.”
“So what happened to the others?”
“We can ask the coroner once he gets here.”
“Great.”
I stepped forward and gently lifted the shroud. Beneath it lay a young girl—no older than ten years old. Her skin was smooth and flawless. Her cheeks were full and rosy. Her lips were plump and red.
She wore a pink dress, but no shoes. Instead, she stood barefoot, wearing only socks. The toes on both feet were painted blue.
“Oh my God,” whispered Amanda.
I reached out and touched the child’s cheek. Her skin felt warm and soft.
“How long has she been dead?”
“Not sure. Maybe an hour or two.”
“And how come she looks so healthy?”
“Like I said earlier, I don’t know. That’s just the way bodies decompose.”
“Decompose?”
“Yes. When a person dies, their body starts to break down. Their cells begin to die, which causes the tissue to become dry and brittle. Eventually, the muscles start to shrink, causing the bones to lose shape.”
“Wow. So that’s why the faces change color.”
“Exactly.”
As I continued to stare at the little girl, I couldn’t help wondering: What kind of life did she lead? Who was her family? Where was she born? Did she have friends who loved her? Was there anything special about her?
The End