Tlazoteotl - Devourer of Filth

Chapter  1

28th October 2012

And Pedro makes one

‘For fucksake slow down’ growled Bauer

NYPD’s Black and White No 234 over-steered at a crazy angle as it spat out of 48th street onto 5th Avenue.

Bauer’s mood was black. As the car pitched and bucked, the half digested remnants of several Buds and a chilli dog bubbled up into his mouth.

‘Jesus the stiff is dead so slow down!’

The driver shrunk visibly in his seat ‘sorry Lieutenant’

‘Yeah whatever’

The squad car slewed sideways to a halt with the obligatory tyre squeal. For a second he felt embarrassed as though he was on the set of Kojak. ’What do they say? - Life imitating art’ he murmured.

‘What was that sir,’

‘Forget it hotshot and get me a coffee’

Hastily erected incident tape and arc lights left no ambiguity as where he needed to be. For the umpteenth time this year he was about to witness another homicide. The familiarity never steadied his guts.

‘Ok Jackson what have we got?’

‘Christ you look like shit sir’

‘Thanks for that – not another word! So come on’

‘Where’s the coffee hotshot!’ he bawled

‘Here sir!’

It steamed cheerfully in the autumn air. The lights of The Plaza twinkled in the distance, its night-time beauty at odds with the grisly scene by his feet.

Jackson checked his notes ‘Male – Hispanic – 30’s maybe – cause of death - blunt trauma’

‘Where’s the pathologist?’

‘Not here yet sir’

‘Then how the fuck d’ya know its blunt trauma’

Jackson pulled back the sheet covering the body. An ice pick was rammed up the shaft right through the victim’s forehead.

‘God’s holy trousers!  he gasped, and with that the chilli dog and beers won the day and Bauer threw up. Jackson didn’t bother to stifle his snigger. Bauer wiped his mouth on his sleeve and drew back upright.

‘I’ll never get used to this – I’m in wrong profession Jimmy; how come you never feel sick?’

‘Dunno sir’ replied Jackson, ‘Dad was a vampire I guess’

‘Wipe that dumb grin off your face or so help me….’ his voice trailed off.

Bauer paced slowly around the body. The stiff looked familiar: he bent closer – his shoulders sagged as he recognised the guy as Mendez. ‘Pedro Mendez’ he mumbled

‘Who?’

Bauer stood up, ‘Pedro Mendez Jimmy’ suddenly sounding stentorian, ‘rapist, bum, shyster and general shit of this precinct. I thought he was still locked up’ He spat out a bit of meat from his teeth, ‘I was the one who put him away’

Jackson listens whilst phoning the station. Seconds later the answer comes through ‘he got out last week sir’

Bauer looked back to the corpse and smiled, ‘welcome home Pedro – you finally got what was coming to you – you Goddam shit. Maybe there is a God’