Status: complete
Kill Them All
Kill Bill
Detective Sylvia Monroe went over the case file in her head on the way up the elevator of the office building. Her assignment: Find out any information of the mysterious disappearance of Bill Vincent. Sylvia was to go under cover as a temp worker in a newspaper editing company for a sick employee. If all went well she would find out all the information she needed within the allotted time frame and solve the case of the missing man.
Bill Vincent’s file consisted of a work ID photograph, his work and home address, his family background, and contact information for his mother who phoned in the missing persons call. From his ID picture he looked to be a heavy set, balding man of about fifty five. His mother said he had always been a very good boy and was an intellectual. Everyone at work loved but he had little time for friends.
As soon as Sylvia walked through the elevator doors she knew that this position was going to be like no other she had played before. The normally clutter free cubicles she was used to seeing in the police headquarters were nowhere to be seen. Each person’s cube was jam packed with family momentous; family pictures from large country family’s with missing teeth, to small single mother families of three, stuffed animals, knick-knacks, and old over sized computers with happy faces of children taped to the outer corners.
Sylvia made her way to the first person she saw, a thirty something year old woman with long blonde hair that fell half way down her back. She was a plump woman with rose coloured fleshy features. She was typing away on her iPhone and giggling to herself while she sat behind the front desk. It took a few minutes for her to register that Sylvia was even standing in front of her, and then she waited for Sylvia to talk. She didn’t greet her nor introduce herself in any professional way.
“Hello my name is Sylvia Chester. I’m the temp for Mandy. Where do I need to sign in?”
The woman looked at her with a dumb expression which made Sylvia wonder if she had two heads. The woman simply stated in a slurred voice, “Ya sign in here, and then Blaine will show you to your desk, if ya can find him that is.”
“Then I am to understand that you are here to work the front desk and that Blaine is the person that usually greets and gives tours of the establishment?”
“Ya think I have time for that crap? I’m much too busy up here to give stupid ‘tours’ as you call them. I am a very important member of this team,” she said with surprising venom behind her words. Sylvia took note of the attitude problem of the woman and mentally prepared a file in her mind of the lack of dignity and professionalism.
Dumbstruck by her rudeness and clear drunkenness, Sylvia didn’t know what to say so she decided to make it her mission to find the allusive man named Blaine and deal with the woman later. By the sounds of the name she expected Blaine to be younger man. Looking around the general population of the office, she took note that there was a higher average of women on staff. So far she could see there were three gentlemen and five women including her. She walked up to a man who looked very country and out of place in his black cowboy hat. He stood around six feet tall and from the back Sylvia could tell he wore a thick leather belt around his narrow hips, his red and blue plaid shirt tucked into his jeans.
“Hello, I’m Ms. Chester, I was wondering if you are Blaine or if you could direct me to his whereabouts.” Sylvia tried to sound more authoritative than she felt.
The man swung around with a big shit eating grin on his face. “Now see here Chester, I was taught to hold on and squeeze,” he said in a twang country accent leering down at her breasts. “What you want here is a real man. Why’d ya want an old jeezer like Blaine? What ya want is a Phil, now that’s a man well endowed, if you know what I mean.” He winked as he spoke and eyed Sylvia up and down while stroking his thick black moustache which was clearly died to make him look younger than he was. Vulgar didn’t seem to be in his vocabulary, however, he succeeded in using it every time his mouth opened. The man clearly thought he was Casanova, with all the right moves to drive the girls crazy.
“Let me guess. You’re Phil and you’re bragging to get your ego up by hitting on the temps to make you feel all proud.” The man looked at her, shocked and speechless. “I thought so. So don’t even think of ‘scoring’ with me. On a normal day I would say it was nice to meet you Phil, but today I’d be lying.”
Disgusted by Phil’s behavior she went to find Mandy’s desk on her own while mentally writing in bold letters on Phil’s file: Pervert. She walked past two empty cubicles to find the one labeled on the outside with Mandy’s name. Sylvia could tell by the woman’s desk that she could have gotten along with her. Mandy’s computer area was meticulously clean and there was minimal clutter with the exception of a few family pictures of her grandchildren. All her paper work was in nice neat yellow binders and she had her filing cabinet alphabetical by first and last names. Sylvia decided that she’d log into the computer system to see what she could find on Mandy’s computer. It was amazing what people thought was safe under a pass worded computer. However, an hour later she came up with nothing and looked up to see a man walking her way.
The man was attractive. He came up to her with a perfect white smile that radiated bleach whitening and introduced himself as Mr. Frank Alf, the chief editor in the company. Sylvia was surprised at his appearance, having never met the man, only talked with him via email. His white shirt was tucked into dark charcoal pants and his tie was loosely tied around his neck, but what intrigued her most was the lack of professionalism with his leather jacket. He seemed very comfortable in his body while he gave Sylvia a very welcoming handshake that didn’t invite a sense of sexuality, which she got sometimes from men in her line of work.
“Welcome to the team Ms. Chester. Hopefully we can enjoy your company for a short time in hopes that Mandy mends at a fast pace. We seem to be dropping like flies. First Bill and now Mandy.” He seemed genuine with the sadness he felt for the loss of one of his associates. To keep up with her cover she had to play up that she didn’t know what was going on to get more information.
“Bill? Is this another employee sick?” she asked in a nonchalant innocent way.
“If you’re going to work in the newspaper industry you might want to pick one up once in a while and read it my dear. Bill has been missing for two- three weeks now. No trace of my poor friend. But everyone in the office has had to suffer and interview people and write about it for the paper.” He had a look of distance in his eyes, like he was in a different place. Then he shook his head as if to clear the images and smiled at Sylvia. “But we should find something out soon I’m sure.” With that he walked into his office again.
***
During Sylvia’s coffee and lunch break she got introduced to another member of the staff; Comfort. Comfort was a real character. She loved to talk about everyone on the staff and all of the latest gossip. Being a woman of late forties Comfort had an amazingly slender physic and had a short bob haircut of dyed blue black. Comfort reminded Sylvia of a teenage girl the way she expected everyone to keep her secrets while she spilled the beans of others. On the first day Sylvia found out that Phil and a woman on staff named Laci were having an affair, the second day she was informed that everyone hated Blaine, and on the third day she realized Comfort’s speculations that Brandy was drunk all the time were confirmed.
While the women ate their lunch one afternoon Sylvia couldn’t help but notice a dark beauty working on a laptop at another table. Her dark skin complementary to her white blouse she wore. Her fingers were flying over her keyboard as she leaned down to take a sip from the straw in her drink.
“That’s River,” Comfort chimed in, having seen where Sylvia’s gaze was wondering. “She works on overdrive, work work work. That’s all she does.” She looked down at her own plate and brought the fork she was eating with to her mouth as if to block out her next words, “She’s trying to keep her mind of her life; not going so well at home with the husband.” Sylvia couldn’t imagine a curvaceous petite woman like that having a hard time with any man. But she mentally added soon-to-be divorced over worker to her file. Maybe River had more to hide than her private life.
One person who definitely did not hide her feelings was Brandy. The woman gave Sylvia an evil glare every time she walked into work. She was a stuck up woman who never did anything but laugh obnoxiously when she received a funny text. Sylvia started to wonder if she had a micky under her desk; the smell of alcohol drifted off her so much. Brandy also loved to boss around poor old Blaine. Blaine was technically the office mailman but ended up doing all of Brandy’s dirty work, such as photocopying, answering phones, and making sure the break room had coffee made. It seemed like everyone pushed all their crappy jobs on the man who had been working in the office for twenty years.
***
By the fifth day Sylvia had picked up on everyone’s daily schedule around the office, and thanks to Comfort who told her everything, their personal lives as well. Her files were getting thicker but none for the information was getting her anywhere on Vincent’s missing person’s case. They all had contact with him and all seemed to have the same motive: Jealously. Bill Vincent was to be Mr. Alf’s right hand man for no apparent reason. Comfort had said that he was a glorified secretary who tattled on all of them like a spoiled mama’s boy. Every person said they were sad he was missing, but excited he wasn’t at work because they could be as lax as they wanted when Mr. Alf was away.
With that in mind, Sylvia chose to focus on Phil and Laci because of their affair. Could Vincent have threatened to exploit them? Could they have been involved with his disappearance? She phoned headquarters to get some deputies to follow them around while she watched them at work. Nothing important came out of shadowing, except finding out how Phil and Laci timed their “secret” meetings. Laci would go to photocopy something and exactly three minutes later Phil would join her in the room. Fifteen minutes later Laci would come out of the room and then, again, three minutes later Phil. Sylvia vowed never to photocopy anything in that room after witnessing that.
Frank seemed to run a tight ship when he was at the office. He made sure that everyone had work to do and made sure they got it done before the deadline date. Due to his pushiness most of the staff did not like him. Comfort had told Sylvia that Mr. Frank Alf was the new senior editor- the old one had been such a slack that the newspaper almost went under. Now that Frank joined the team he increased the readings by 15%. And even though Sylvia was supposed to be a temp he pushed her to get her papers in on time, even getting mad at her when she misspelled something that was just about to go into publication. She wrote explosive on his file when she got to her apartment that night.
***
Sylvia hadn’t expected anything from the staff for Christmas since she had only been in the office for a week. But they all insisted that she should take part in the Secret Santa game. So when Blaine dropped off a white envelope on her desk with a big smile on his face she was surprized. She gave Blaine a smile and thanked him as she looked at her mail. The envelope had her name typed on the front in a font that looked to be from an old typewriter.
Sylvia grinned and looked around the room trying to catch anyone’s eye who might be her Santa. No one looked up as she tore through the paper. What she saw made her gasp and drop the object to her desk face down. Just in time for Phil to appear with that grin of his.
“Looks like Santa ho ho’d you,” He said as he put his thumbs in his belt buckles and thrust his hips forward, “Or were you a bad girl? I bets you were a naughty girl.”
“Phil piss off or I’ll tell your wife you’re a naught boy.” Sylvia shot back.
“Oh she knows I’m a bad bad boy.” He said leaning forward to catch a peak of Sylvia’s cleavage.
“With other women?” she again fired back. He stilled, turned, and hurried off after that comment, his face flushed with anger or humiliation that she knew his not-so-secret secret.
She took the photograph which was in the envelope and analyzed it. It was a close up on a set of hands tied behind the back with a thick rope. The hands were covered in dried blood as well as the rest of the skin she could see. But who would send me a picture here? She wondered as she flipped the photo over, careful not to touch it directly as not to smudge any fingerprints that might be on it. A note was typed onto the back that read:
“Dear Sylvia Monroe,
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me twelve drummers drumming
I know who you are. I’ve been watching you. Have you seen me?
Yours, MM”
Sylvia recognized the line from her favourite Christmas carol and it gave her a shiver to read the rest of the note. The card was clearly not a normal Christmas card. And she bet one hundred dollars that the hands in the picture were Bill Vincent’s. She also knew someone on this floor obviously found out who she was and that the kidnapper wanted to tease her.
For the next 10 days she received white envelopes with her name typed across it on her desk. Each contained a picture of, the now confirmed, Bill Vincent. His body was in different poses and mutilated. The mutilation went from slashing the body to cutting off protruding body parts- including his penis, which made Sylvia wonder if this was a sex related crime.
Sylvia leaned back in her chair to look at her desk in her apartment, the piles of papers and pictures were getting higher. The pictures of Bill’s body had been taken with a Polaroid camera, which would make it nearly impossible to track. Plus the killer had been smart and worn gloves; so there were no fingerprints and he had sent the envelopes from different locations in the city where there were no cameras watching. The killer clearly new who she was and wasn’t afraid to brag that he knew or that he was infatuated with her. He also liked to be in control from a distance.
***
The day of the Christmas party Sylvia new the killer was going to do something drastic. It was the last day of the song, and he would want to show off his accomplishments. She secretly hoped he would confront her so she could put a bullet in the sick bastard. She strapped her gun holster to her side and hid it with her jacket. She was going to be prepared.
Sylvia looked over her files on the each staff members that she had created for her investigation. She had too many motives and too many suspects. Each one of them could have done the deed which only made Sylvia’s job harder. Mr. Alf seemed to be the perfect boss, but he could be hard on his employees and pushed them to do their best work in a very short time. Maybe he pushed Bill too hard and Bill decided to confront him and it ended with devastating consequences. The rest of the staff loathed Bill because he was higher ranked then the rest of them for simply being a glorified secretary. Bill was the tattle tale who wrote everything down and reported back to Mr. Alf with every detail of the office daily going-on. This could have been problematic for Phil and Laci if he had told Alf about their affair. They could have lost their jobs and their spouses. Brandy, Blaine, Comfort, and River wanted his job and were plan sick of the man. But Sylvia didn’t think any of them had the capacity to subdue Bill Vincent or the stomach to do the killing.
Sylvia made her way from her apartment to the office with apprehension. She had called her superior to tell them to send backup to the office, but they rejected her request because she had no proof that anything would happen or who the killer was. Sending in officers would scare him off. They said the best idea would be to wait for the last picture to arrive and start the interview process with the family and friends of the victim.
When she made her appearance at the party she surveyed the room. Phil and Laci were with their spouses, River and Comfort were talking over the goody table and Brandy was at the bar. Crowds of spouses and children were gathered here and there around cubicles. Sylvia went up to Comfort and River and greeted them with Happy Holidays and a smile. Everyone was having a good time until the screaming started.
***
Two young boys came running out between the cubicles screaming that there was a man with a gun in one of the offices. Chaos was about to explode throughout the room but Sylvia stopped it with a loud whistle between her lips. Everyone went silent and looked at her.
“I am Sylvia Chester a detective at the police force. I need everyone to stay calm and please exit the building. Make sure all the children are with you.” She pulled out her gun from its holster and headed towards the private offices. She yelled for someone to call 911 as she burst into Mr. Alf’s office, gun at the ready. What she saw she never expected in a million years; Blaine holding a gun to Mr. Alf’s head, using his body as a shield.
“About time my dear.” Blaine managed a mock bow.
“Blaine? You’re behind all of this?” she couldn’t help the surprise that entered her voice. But she must keep him calm and talking until her backup came.
“Why does no one suspect me?!?” he yelled shaking his head, Mr. Alf winced. “I did this for all of us! Everyone should be praising me! Bill is gone! He’s never coming back!” Blaine let out an evil high pitched laugh.
“I know he’s not coming back,” she said as she took a step closer to them. There was only a desk between them now. “You sent me all of the pictures and the notes, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t plan to show anyone my work of art, but then you showed up.” He eyed her up, licking his lips. “I couldn’t resist sending my work to a woman who would truly appreciate it. I saw the way you watched me. You want me. I tried to look you up but there was nothing on ‘Sylvia Chester.’ That’s when I knew you were a cop or somethin’. Who doesn’t have a Facebook, twitter or some kind of online account no-a-days? When I went to the library data base I found you my lovely. Ms. Sylvia Ann Monroe, age thirty-one, five foot six, brown hair and eyes, with a slender body she received from police training she attended right out of high school. I must say your career has been quite accomplished.”
“You’re crazy! Let me go!” Mr. Alf screamed struggling in Blaine’s hold, a blow to the head with the gun butt helped shut him up. Sylvia new she was running out of time. She had to act before they made Blaine mad and he did something they’d all regret. She had to play along. “Don’t listen to that fool Blaine. I loved the pictures. But why the Christmas carol?”
“Well you should know that, my love, it’s your favourite, I even asked your mother about it when I talked to her.”
Anger flashed through Sylvia’s body, she was done playing nice guy. “You talked to my mother?” she ground out and stepped to go around the desk, her gun pointed at his head. If she would have had a clear shot she would have shot the bastard between the eyes.
“Oh dear, I’ve made you angry. I thought you’d want me to talk to your mother as I’ve been courting you.”
“You are not courting me!” she yelled back to him. “Now let Frank go, he hasn’t done anything.”
“He’s trying to get between us. He must die, I must have you. Bill got in the way of my promotion to editor. And this fool ruined my life! I won’t let him do it again!” he pushed Frank Alf to his knees and pointed the gun to the back of his head. Frank was pleading for his life now, begging God to save him.
A gun shot reverberated through the room.
***
Sylvia looked at her pin board of evidence and suspects. As she took down everything and put it into a cardboard box she thought back to the last several weeks. She never thought the old man named Blaine was capable of such viscous cruelty. They had found Bill Vincent’s body in a freezer in one of Blaine’s storage shed’s on his property. They also found in his house photographs and newspaper articles of Sylvia and crudely written first drafts of the notes he wrote her. All the detectives and police of the force were surprised that the psychopath hadn’t tried to go after Sylvia while she was alone. He knew everything about her- and her mother.
The night of the Christmas party had gone by in a flash though Sylvia’s memory. She was forced to take time off after she witnessed a security guard from the office shoot Blaine in the head, his brains hitting the wall behind him. The man was never charged with murder, he was protecting the rest of the staff and Mr. Alf who had to take intense therapy after the shooting.
The last thing that Sylvia put in the evidence box was the poem they had found in Blaine’s house
explaining why he signed the photos with MM.
Walking the halls
Pushing my cart
Giving smiles
Receiving none
How I long to kill them all
To chop off their legs and arms
Feed them their eyes
Break every bone
But the mailman must prevail
Must push this cart
Hand out mail
Wait for a promotion
The Mail Man must wait
Wait for his time to strike
Strike now? He asks
Now, Mail Man
Bill Vincent’s file consisted of a work ID photograph, his work and home address, his family background, and contact information for his mother who phoned in the missing persons call. From his ID picture he looked to be a heavy set, balding man of about fifty five. His mother said he had always been a very good boy and was an intellectual. Everyone at work loved but he had little time for friends.
As soon as Sylvia walked through the elevator doors she knew that this position was going to be like no other she had played before. The normally clutter free cubicles she was used to seeing in the police headquarters were nowhere to be seen. Each person’s cube was jam packed with family momentous; family pictures from large country family’s with missing teeth, to small single mother families of three, stuffed animals, knick-knacks, and old over sized computers with happy faces of children taped to the outer corners.
Sylvia made her way to the first person she saw, a thirty something year old woman with long blonde hair that fell half way down her back. She was a plump woman with rose coloured fleshy features. She was typing away on her iPhone and giggling to herself while she sat behind the front desk. It took a few minutes for her to register that Sylvia was even standing in front of her, and then she waited for Sylvia to talk. She didn’t greet her nor introduce herself in any professional way.
“Hello my name is Sylvia Chester. I’m the temp for Mandy. Where do I need to sign in?”
The woman looked at her with a dumb expression which made Sylvia wonder if she had two heads. The woman simply stated in a slurred voice, “Ya sign in here, and then Blaine will show you to your desk, if ya can find him that is.”
“Then I am to understand that you are here to work the front desk and that Blaine is the person that usually greets and gives tours of the establishment?”
“Ya think I have time for that crap? I’m much too busy up here to give stupid ‘tours’ as you call them. I am a very important member of this team,” she said with surprising venom behind her words. Sylvia took note of the attitude problem of the woman and mentally prepared a file in her mind of the lack of dignity and professionalism.
Dumbstruck by her rudeness and clear drunkenness, Sylvia didn’t know what to say so she decided to make it her mission to find the allusive man named Blaine and deal with the woman later. By the sounds of the name she expected Blaine to be younger man. Looking around the general population of the office, she took note that there was a higher average of women on staff. So far she could see there were three gentlemen and five women including her. She walked up to a man who looked very country and out of place in his black cowboy hat. He stood around six feet tall and from the back Sylvia could tell he wore a thick leather belt around his narrow hips, his red and blue plaid shirt tucked into his jeans.
“Hello, I’m Ms. Chester, I was wondering if you are Blaine or if you could direct me to his whereabouts.” Sylvia tried to sound more authoritative than she felt.
The man swung around with a big shit eating grin on his face. “Now see here Chester, I was taught to hold on and squeeze,” he said in a twang country accent leering down at her breasts. “What you want here is a real man. Why’d ya want an old jeezer like Blaine? What ya want is a Phil, now that’s a man well endowed, if you know what I mean.” He winked as he spoke and eyed Sylvia up and down while stroking his thick black moustache which was clearly died to make him look younger than he was. Vulgar didn’t seem to be in his vocabulary, however, he succeeded in using it every time his mouth opened. The man clearly thought he was Casanova, with all the right moves to drive the girls crazy.
“Let me guess. You’re Phil and you’re bragging to get your ego up by hitting on the temps to make you feel all proud.” The man looked at her, shocked and speechless. “I thought so. So don’t even think of ‘scoring’ with me. On a normal day I would say it was nice to meet you Phil, but today I’d be lying.”
Disgusted by Phil’s behavior she went to find Mandy’s desk on her own while mentally writing in bold letters on Phil’s file: Pervert. She walked past two empty cubicles to find the one labeled on the outside with Mandy’s name. Sylvia could tell by the woman’s desk that she could have gotten along with her. Mandy’s computer area was meticulously clean and there was minimal clutter with the exception of a few family pictures of her grandchildren. All her paper work was in nice neat yellow binders and she had her filing cabinet alphabetical by first and last names. Sylvia decided that she’d log into the computer system to see what she could find on Mandy’s computer. It was amazing what people thought was safe under a pass worded computer. However, an hour later she came up with nothing and looked up to see a man walking her way.
The man was attractive. He came up to her with a perfect white smile that radiated bleach whitening and introduced himself as Mr. Frank Alf, the chief editor in the company. Sylvia was surprised at his appearance, having never met the man, only talked with him via email. His white shirt was tucked into dark charcoal pants and his tie was loosely tied around his neck, but what intrigued her most was the lack of professionalism with his leather jacket. He seemed very comfortable in his body while he gave Sylvia a very welcoming handshake that didn’t invite a sense of sexuality, which she got sometimes from men in her line of work.
“Welcome to the team Ms. Chester. Hopefully we can enjoy your company for a short time in hopes that Mandy mends at a fast pace. We seem to be dropping like flies. First Bill and now Mandy.” He seemed genuine with the sadness he felt for the loss of one of his associates. To keep up with her cover she had to play up that she didn’t know what was going on to get more information.
“Bill? Is this another employee sick?” she asked in a nonchalant innocent way.
“If you’re going to work in the newspaper industry you might want to pick one up once in a while and read it my dear. Bill has been missing for two- three weeks now. No trace of my poor friend. But everyone in the office has had to suffer and interview people and write about it for the paper.” He had a look of distance in his eyes, like he was in a different place. Then he shook his head as if to clear the images and smiled at Sylvia. “But we should find something out soon I’m sure.” With that he walked into his office again.
***
During Sylvia’s coffee and lunch break she got introduced to another member of the staff; Comfort. Comfort was a real character. She loved to talk about everyone on the staff and all of the latest gossip. Being a woman of late forties Comfort had an amazingly slender physic and had a short bob haircut of dyed blue black. Comfort reminded Sylvia of a teenage girl the way she expected everyone to keep her secrets while she spilled the beans of others. On the first day Sylvia found out that Phil and a woman on staff named Laci were having an affair, the second day she was informed that everyone hated Blaine, and on the third day she realized Comfort’s speculations that Brandy was drunk all the time were confirmed.
While the women ate their lunch one afternoon Sylvia couldn’t help but notice a dark beauty working on a laptop at another table. Her dark skin complementary to her white blouse she wore. Her fingers were flying over her keyboard as she leaned down to take a sip from the straw in her drink.
“That’s River,” Comfort chimed in, having seen where Sylvia’s gaze was wondering. “She works on overdrive, work work work. That’s all she does.” She looked down at her own plate and brought the fork she was eating with to her mouth as if to block out her next words, “She’s trying to keep her mind of her life; not going so well at home with the husband.” Sylvia couldn’t imagine a curvaceous petite woman like that having a hard time with any man. But she mentally added soon-to-be divorced over worker to her file. Maybe River had more to hide than her private life.
One person who definitely did not hide her feelings was Brandy. The woman gave Sylvia an evil glare every time she walked into work. She was a stuck up woman who never did anything but laugh obnoxiously when she received a funny text. Sylvia started to wonder if she had a micky under her desk; the smell of alcohol drifted off her so much. Brandy also loved to boss around poor old Blaine. Blaine was technically the office mailman but ended up doing all of Brandy’s dirty work, such as photocopying, answering phones, and making sure the break room had coffee made. It seemed like everyone pushed all their crappy jobs on the man who had been working in the office for twenty years.
***
By the fifth day Sylvia had picked up on everyone’s daily schedule around the office, and thanks to Comfort who told her everything, their personal lives as well. Her files were getting thicker but none for the information was getting her anywhere on Vincent’s missing person’s case. They all had contact with him and all seemed to have the same motive: Jealously. Bill Vincent was to be Mr. Alf’s right hand man for no apparent reason. Comfort had said that he was a glorified secretary who tattled on all of them like a spoiled mama’s boy. Every person said they were sad he was missing, but excited he wasn’t at work because they could be as lax as they wanted when Mr. Alf was away.
With that in mind, Sylvia chose to focus on Phil and Laci because of their affair. Could Vincent have threatened to exploit them? Could they have been involved with his disappearance? She phoned headquarters to get some deputies to follow them around while she watched them at work. Nothing important came out of shadowing, except finding out how Phil and Laci timed their “secret” meetings. Laci would go to photocopy something and exactly three minutes later Phil would join her in the room. Fifteen minutes later Laci would come out of the room and then, again, three minutes later Phil. Sylvia vowed never to photocopy anything in that room after witnessing that.
Frank seemed to run a tight ship when he was at the office. He made sure that everyone had work to do and made sure they got it done before the deadline date. Due to his pushiness most of the staff did not like him. Comfort had told Sylvia that Mr. Frank Alf was the new senior editor- the old one had been such a slack that the newspaper almost went under. Now that Frank joined the team he increased the readings by 15%. And even though Sylvia was supposed to be a temp he pushed her to get her papers in on time, even getting mad at her when she misspelled something that was just about to go into publication. She wrote explosive on his file when she got to her apartment that night.
***
Sylvia hadn’t expected anything from the staff for Christmas since she had only been in the office for a week. But they all insisted that she should take part in the Secret Santa game. So when Blaine dropped off a white envelope on her desk with a big smile on his face she was surprized. She gave Blaine a smile and thanked him as she looked at her mail. The envelope had her name typed on the front in a font that looked to be from an old typewriter.
Sylvia grinned and looked around the room trying to catch anyone’s eye who might be her Santa. No one looked up as she tore through the paper. What she saw made her gasp and drop the object to her desk face down. Just in time for Phil to appear with that grin of his.
“Looks like Santa ho ho’d you,” He said as he put his thumbs in his belt buckles and thrust his hips forward, “Or were you a bad girl? I bets you were a naughty girl.”
“Phil piss off or I’ll tell your wife you’re a naught boy.” Sylvia shot back.
“Oh she knows I’m a bad bad boy.” He said leaning forward to catch a peak of Sylvia’s cleavage.
“With other women?” she again fired back. He stilled, turned, and hurried off after that comment, his face flushed with anger or humiliation that she knew his not-so-secret secret.
She took the photograph which was in the envelope and analyzed it. It was a close up on a set of hands tied behind the back with a thick rope. The hands were covered in dried blood as well as the rest of the skin she could see. But who would send me a picture here? She wondered as she flipped the photo over, careful not to touch it directly as not to smudge any fingerprints that might be on it. A note was typed onto the back that read:
“Dear Sylvia Monroe,
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me twelve drummers drumming
I know who you are. I’ve been watching you. Have you seen me?
Yours, MM”
Sylvia recognized the line from her favourite Christmas carol and it gave her a shiver to read the rest of the note. The card was clearly not a normal Christmas card. And she bet one hundred dollars that the hands in the picture were Bill Vincent’s. She also knew someone on this floor obviously found out who she was and that the kidnapper wanted to tease her.
For the next 10 days she received white envelopes with her name typed across it on her desk. Each contained a picture of, the now confirmed, Bill Vincent. His body was in different poses and mutilated. The mutilation went from slashing the body to cutting off protruding body parts- including his penis, which made Sylvia wonder if this was a sex related crime.
Sylvia leaned back in her chair to look at her desk in her apartment, the piles of papers and pictures were getting higher. The pictures of Bill’s body had been taken with a Polaroid camera, which would make it nearly impossible to track. Plus the killer had been smart and worn gloves; so there were no fingerprints and he had sent the envelopes from different locations in the city where there were no cameras watching. The killer clearly new who she was and wasn’t afraid to brag that he knew or that he was infatuated with her. He also liked to be in control from a distance.
***
The day of the Christmas party Sylvia new the killer was going to do something drastic. It was the last day of the song, and he would want to show off his accomplishments. She secretly hoped he would confront her so she could put a bullet in the sick bastard. She strapped her gun holster to her side and hid it with her jacket. She was going to be prepared.
Sylvia looked over her files on the each staff members that she had created for her investigation. She had too many motives and too many suspects. Each one of them could have done the deed which only made Sylvia’s job harder. Mr. Alf seemed to be the perfect boss, but he could be hard on his employees and pushed them to do their best work in a very short time. Maybe he pushed Bill too hard and Bill decided to confront him and it ended with devastating consequences. The rest of the staff loathed Bill because he was higher ranked then the rest of them for simply being a glorified secretary. Bill was the tattle tale who wrote everything down and reported back to Mr. Alf with every detail of the office daily going-on. This could have been problematic for Phil and Laci if he had told Alf about their affair. They could have lost their jobs and their spouses. Brandy, Blaine, Comfort, and River wanted his job and were plan sick of the man. But Sylvia didn’t think any of them had the capacity to subdue Bill Vincent or the stomach to do the killing.
Sylvia made her way from her apartment to the office with apprehension. She had called her superior to tell them to send backup to the office, but they rejected her request because she had no proof that anything would happen or who the killer was. Sending in officers would scare him off. They said the best idea would be to wait for the last picture to arrive and start the interview process with the family and friends of the victim.
When she made her appearance at the party she surveyed the room. Phil and Laci were with their spouses, River and Comfort were talking over the goody table and Brandy was at the bar. Crowds of spouses and children were gathered here and there around cubicles. Sylvia went up to Comfort and River and greeted them with Happy Holidays and a smile. Everyone was having a good time until the screaming started.
***
Two young boys came running out between the cubicles screaming that there was a man with a gun in one of the offices. Chaos was about to explode throughout the room but Sylvia stopped it with a loud whistle between her lips. Everyone went silent and looked at her.
“I am Sylvia Chester a detective at the police force. I need everyone to stay calm and please exit the building. Make sure all the children are with you.” She pulled out her gun from its holster and headed towards the private offices. She yelled for someone to call 911 as she burst into Mr. Alf’s office, gun at the ready. What she saw she never expected in a million years; Blaine holding a gun to Mr. Alf’s head, using his body as a shield.
“About time my dear.” Blaine managed a mock bow.
“Blaine? You’re behind all of this?” she couldn’t help the surprise that entered her voice. But she must keep him calm and talking until her backup came.
“Why does no one suspect me?!?” he yelled shaking his head, Mr. Alf winced. “I did this for all of us! Everyone should be praising me! Bill is gone! He’s never coming back!” Blaine let out an evil high pitched laugh.
“I know he’s not coming back,” she said as she took a step closer to them. There was only a desk between them now. “You sent me all of the pictures and the notes, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t plan to show anyone my work of art, but then you showed up.” He eyed her up, licking his lips. “I couldn’t resist sending my work to a woman who would truly appreciate it. I saw the way you watched me. You want me. I tried to look you up but there was nothing on ‘Sylvia Chester.’ That’s when I knew you were a cop or somethin’. Who doesn’t have a Facebook, twitter or some kind of online account no-a-days? When I went to the library data base I found you my lovely. Ms. Sylvia Ann Monroe, age thirty-one, five foot six, brown hair and eyes, with a slender body she received from police training she attended right out of high school. I must say your career has been quite accomplished.”
“You’re crazy! Let me go!” Mr. Alf screamed struggling in Blaine’s hold, a blow to the head with the gun butt helped shut him up. Sylvia new she was running out of time. She had to act before they made Blaine mad and he did something they’d all regret. She had to play along. “Don’t listen to that fool Blaine. I loved the pictures. But why the Christmas carol?”
“Well you should know that, my love, it’s your favourite, I even asked your mother about it when I talked to her.”
Anger flashed through Sylvia’s body, she was done playing nice guy. “You talked to my mother?” she ground out and stepped to go around the desk, her gun pointed at his head. If she would have had a clear shot she would have shot the bastard between the eyes.
“Oh dear, I’ve made you angry. I thought you’d want me to talk to your mother as I’ve been courting you.”
“You are not courting me!” she yelled back to him. “Now let Frank go, he hasn’t done anything.”
“He’s trying to get between us. He must die, I must have you. Bill got in the way of my promotion to editor. And this fool ruined my life! I won’t let him do it again!” he pushed Frank Alf to his knees and pointed the gun to the back of his head. Frank was pleading for his life now, begging God to save him.
A gun shot reverberated through the room.
***
Sylvia looked at her pin board of evidence and suspects. As she took down everything and put it into a cardboard box she thought back to the last several weeks. She never thought the old man named Blaine was capable of such viscous cruelty. They had found Bill Vincent’s body in a freezer in one of Blaine’s storage shed’s on his property. They also found in his house photographs and newspaper articles of Sylvia and crudely written first drafts of the notes he wrote her. All the detectives and police of the force were surprised that the psychopath hadn’t tried to go after Sylvia while she was alone. He knew everything about her- and her mother.
The night of the Christmas party had gone by in a flash though Sylvia’s memory. She was forced to take time off after she witnessed a security guard from the office shoot Blaine in the head, his brains hitting the wall behind him. The man was never charged with murder, he was protecting the rest of the staff and Mr. Alf who had to take intense therapy after the shooting.
The last thing that Sylvia put in the evidence box was the poem they had found in Blaine’s house
explaining why he signed the photos with MM.
Walking the halls
Pushing my cart
Giving smiles
Receiving none
How I long to kill them all
To chop off their legs and arms
Feed them their eyes
Break every bone
But the mailman must prevail
Must push this cart
Hand out mail
Wait for a promotion
The Mail Man must wait
Wait for his time to strike
Strike now? He asks
Now, Mail Man