Tag Archives: murder

Requiem in A Flat

Twenty minutes before eight o’clock, Peter Carrigan stood in his bedroom inspecting himself in the full-length mirror hanging from the back of his closet door. He looked adequate: the three-piece suit he wore hung a little too loose from his shoulders and his torso. He needed a new suit, but he was pleased enough with his snazzy appearance. It would do for the occasion.

Peter adjusted his bow-tie and checked his watch again. 7:42 p.m. He mustn’t be late — he had a very important date to keep. He combed through his thinning hair once more and reached for the bottle of cologne on his dresser. A cloud of odorous mist cascaded through the air onto him. When he reached absent-mindedly to place it back on the dresser, his hand slipped; the bottle fell onto the floor. Peter flinched, fearing he would have a stain to clean up. But the bottle’s impact was cushioned by a large pile of papers on the floor.

In fact, all of Peter’s bedroom was full of papers. Stacks of papers bound together and hole-punched; single leaflet sheets with scrawls of messy writing overtop of them; mostly, staff-lined paper with music notes scribbled on them, crossed out, and rewritten. Peter’s immaculate appearance now, at 7:47 p.m., served as a contrast to the heaps of paper on the floor. He stood in a clear spot in front of the mirror, his black-and-white figure erect in the backdrop of a mess. Aside from the papers, his bed was neatly made, his clothes were hung straight on hangers in his closet and his violin leaned quietly up against the wall near the door.

At 7:50 p.m. Peter walked out of his bedroom, picking up his violin on the way, and tiptoed down the stairs of his complex. He knew exactly how long it would take him to reach his destination, where he could finally put on a show. The closest tube station was a block south of his flat and he walked there stoically, nodding politely at the people he passed on the way. He walked down the stairs and directly onto the train, which had arrived exactly when he expected it would. He removed the strap of his violin case from his right shoulder and stood serenely near the door with it standing up between his legs. He balanced it against his knees while his hands remained in his coat pockets, fidgeting with what was inside them.

The ride took only a few minutes, and when the doors reopened at his stop, Peter picked up his violin, slung it over his shoulder again and exited the tube car. He weaved his way through the Friday night crowds in the city, up the stairs and back onto the street above ground. He turned left, walked twenty paces and found himself at the building where he would be giving his show. He pulled his left hand out of his pocket and checked his wrist again for the time: 7:57 p.m. Perfect timing.

Continue reading

Tagged , , , , , , ,

Here It Is Quite Quiet

The four dead girls met David Korobkin at his office on a dreary April morning, three months before he read the letter. On paper, they were routine homicides, each with extreme head trauma in apparent gunshot-inflicted injuries. Nothing Korobkin hadn’t seen before. In the seven years he had been head of the regional Criminal Investigations Department, he’d stumbled upon dozens of victims, some as peaceful as a drowned infant in a bathtub, some as gruesome as a burned, stabbed woman he’d found last November. He glanced again at the coroner’s report.

“Mornin’, chief,” said Korobkin’s deputy, Ilya Petrovich, elbowing open the door with an armful of pyshkis. “Hungry?” Korobkin reached for the sticky doughnut absentmindedly as he flipped through the report. “So the slab’s got some girls downstairs, I see,” he said. “You checked ’em out yet?”

Petrovich nodded expectantly, watching Korobkin read the report. “Yeah, just got back. They’re fresh.” Korobkin frowned and flipped the report over: filed Tuesday, April 30. And received, he thought. There was a silence as both men chewed distractedly on their breakfast and Korobkin skimmed through the report carelessly.

Interesting case, he thought, nodding in approval. Four young women under the age of 23. Cause of death: head trauma. No signs of sexual abuse. Identities currently unknown; fingers and faces disfigured. It was the kind of investigation that delighted him.

Continue reading

Tagged , , , , , ,