Chapter 4: Business As Usual

As Caine sat in front of the room's owner, the sound of a clock ticking echoed around the commissioner's office. The rain had begun outside, and the chilly breeze of winter trickled through the crevices of the windows, cooling the room.

Meanwhile, commissioner Stacy sat on his throne, his gaze fixed on Caine and his finger tapping on his desk.

"You certainly took your time," commissioner Stacy stated calmly as he examined Caine's garments.

"There were a lot of layers on the clothing." Caine responded casually.

Stacy scoffed. The commissioner abruptly rose up and opened his drawer. He pulled a folder from it and tossed it on the desk, instructing Caine to read it.

"Tell me one reason right now why you should not be discharged," the commissioner said. He moved his gaze to the window, where rainfall dripped from top to bottom.

Caine opened the folder instinctively; it contained the case files related to Everett, as well as the preliminary report of the unsuccessful arrest attempt. Caine witnessed the murder of his companion Maxwell, who was killed with a nearly clean slit in the throat, and the official cause of death is exposed hypopharynx and larynx following a cut throat. Again, the cut looked clean, as if the killer had used a razor, which Caine now knows was not the case.

"Three dead, including the suspect," said the commissioner. "The other one was an innocent woman who could have been avoided. The last one was a seasoned police detective, even more so than you. You were the only one who escaped unscathed."

"It was a mistake. The killer is more capable than I thought."

"Why didn't you request proper backup?" the commissioner charged.

"I did," Caine said. "I asked Captain Strieber to give me command of an SR unit during the arrest, but he pulled down at the last minute."

"What?" Stacy grimaced. "There is no documentation pertaining to your request to bring an SR unit to an arrest."

"You know me, commissioner." Caine let out a sigh. "I despise paperwork."

"For God's sake, Donovan, stop making excuses and tell me the truth!"

"I already did." Caine was adamant. "I asked Captain Stieber about commanding an SR unit, but he pulled away at the last second to tell me I needed to do the paperwork first. Now tell me, Commissioner, I wouldn't mind if the first thing I asked him to do was provide me with an SR unit and he said that I have to do the paperwork, but at the last minute? That sounds like a malicious way to follow the rules to me."

The commissioner fell silent when he heard this. "You know the rules, Detective; you've been in this precinct for five years; you must know by now that everything, including requesting an SR unit to attend an arrest, must be logged."

"Normally, Commissioner, I am confident in my ability to solve problems." Caine went on. "I continued even though I didn't have an SR unit to back me up."

The commissioner laughed and shook his head in disgust. "So, carelessness? You're far too conceited."

"It's not carelessness. Something occurred." Caine murmured. "Something... unforeseen."

Stacy chuckled deeply, annoyed with the conversation. "Five years, detective, five goddamn years, and you still haven't learned anything. I will ask you again, tell me one reason right now why you should not be discharged."

Caine let out a sigh. "Commissioner, I know I made a mistake here, but have you read the case files?"

"Yes, I've read it several times. No, thanks to you."

"Then you should be aware that there are numerous unresolved issues in this thing." Caine dropped the folder on the desk. "Two puncture wounds on the female victim's neck, traces of silver around the pocket knife's blade, an abnormally clean cut on Maxwell's throat like the other victims—this just sounds strange to me. It almost feels like a made-up case."

Stacy laughed. "You mean we have a vampire in our morgue? Is that your defense?"

"The point is, commissioner, the case is not yet resolved." Caine responded. "You haven't technically brought me to interrogation yet, and I know what I saw—I didn't kill Everett, and Maxwell didn't kill Everett. After I passed out, someone did."

Caine intended to say that he was bleeding to death before passing out, but he doubts the commissioner will believe such a ridiculous idea.

"And what did you see in that alleyway, detective?" inquired the commissioner.

"Like I said, something... unforeseen." Caine muttered. "I'll write a report on what I saw in the alleyway and continue to work on the case if you're not going to let me off. In fact, I'll be heading to the morgue right now to double-check the body."

"I could simply assign another detective to this case and fire you."

"You could, and the NYPD would have another cold case on file."

"And you're sure you can solve it?"

"Many cold cases have been solved by me since I joined the NYPD as a detective. That's why I'm here at the age of 25, commissioner; you're the one who promoted me to detective after all." Caine responded. "Look, all I ask is that if you want to fire me, fire me after I solve this case."

The commissioner stroked his temples as he returned to his seat, exhausted. He sighed as he glanced at Caine one more time. "You're young and conceited—far too conceited, Donovan. But your talent can undoubtedly astound me; else, you wouldn't be here at this age. I know some... of your coworkers dislike you and are envious of you, and that business is undoubtedly involved in this scenario, so I'll leave you off the hook for the time being."

"Thank you very much—"

"But." Stacy stepped in. "From now on, I will assign you a mandatory partner who will keep you in check and make sure you do what you're supposed to do, and you will no longer be able to work alone. It's about time I put a damper on your arrogance."

Caine made a humming sound. This wasn't all that horrible. "Thank you very much, commissioner."

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It was late at night now. Caine walked directly towards the coroner's office, stopping in front of the entryway. When Caine entered the building, he was met by the usual receptionist, a man named Watson who Caine knew.

"Good evening, Watson." Caine greeted everyone. "Doc on the inside?"

"Detective, here to see your handiwork?" Watson smirked sarcastically. "He's inside, yes."

"I'm going to file a complaint of unprofessionalism against you after I'm done here." Caine said this casually as he walked closer into the building, waving his phone in front of Watson.

"What? Wait, you're joking, right?" Watson inquired, his face set, fearing Caine had recorded the little exchange. "Wait! Please tell me you're not serious!"

Caine strolled down the morgue's lengthy corridors, ignoring the receptionist. In his mind, this environment felt even more familiar than his flat, and he realized he had been here far too many times for a reasonable and functional human being.

He unlocked a double door at the end of the corridor, entering a room with a peculiar smell, the smell of a powerful, irritating stench. Caine walked in and noticed the man in command, known as Doc, sitting comfortably in the corner of the room, reading a newspaper. When Doc saw Caine, he dropped the newspaper and stood up from his desk.

"Detective Donovan." Doc gave a nod. "I assume you're here for the bodies?"

"What else would I be doing here, doc? Playing chess?"

"It won't hurt to do that every now and then." Doc shook his head. "Come with me."

======

The detective was now standing in front of an autopsy table, with the doctor at the other end. They were both dressed in medical garb, complete with gloves. The body of the serial killer's final female victim lay on top of the autopsy table.

"Know her name yet?" The doctor inquired, handing over a scanner board containing the woman's autopsy report.

Caine gave a nod. "I read it while being chastised by the commissioner. Emma Mackenzie, 23 years old, Caucasian, no previous medical records. The cause of death is exsanguination."

Doc hummed and moved his hands, shifting the woman's head to the right and revealing two puncture wounds. "Unlike the previous victims, this girl's throat had not been slit. However, indications of an inordinate amount of ecstasy in her blood remain consistent with the pattern of the previous ones. There was saliva in her neck too, but I couldn't determine who it belonged to because the DNA was really damaged for some reason. And I'm not sure what caused the puncture wounds. It does not match any potential weapon found in the vicinity; I tested it with staples, nails, screwdrivers, and even the killer's teeth. Overall, this case is rather odd."

"It's fangs." Caine remarked this while carefully caressing his two puncture wounds and the region on his neck where the beast had bitten him.

"Pardon?" The Doc was perplexed. "Fangs?"

"Call me crazy, Doc, but everything points to a vampire."

Doc laughed. "I didn't think you were religious or superstitious."

"I know what I saw." Caine explained gently. "The previous victims had no puncture wounds because the killer slit their throats after feeding on them. To conceal his tracks, I suppose, which is a little sloppy but effective. I believe he drugged them first in order to get that narcotic rush when he drank from them."

"Detective, this is a scientific facility," the Doc said, shaking his head. "Your theory sounds more like a fantasy that came from your head. Are you certain you're still okay? Did you have a concussion?"

Caine let out a sigh. "Let's pull Everett to the table; let's see if my thoughts are true. I seriously want to not believe it myself."

======

The body in front of Caine had changed; it was now a pallid thirty-year-old male laying on the table. It appeared normal at first glance, however...

"Everett Collin…" Doc made a hum. "He was discovered with a pocket knife containing traces of silver powder around it, stabbed through the heart."

Hearing himself, Doc started to frown.

"We discovered a rather strange ichor all around his body; we haven't been able to determine what it was yet, and it's still in the lab, so the cause of death remains unknown."

"Does his skin always look this dry?" Caine showed out the fissures that had formed all over his body's skin.

"No… I hadn't noticed that previously. The most recent access was yesterday." Doc widened his brow.

"May I?" Caine inquired, pointing to one of the fingers, and the Doc responded with a nod. To the Doc's surprise, when Caine touched the body's finger, it rapidly crumbled, turning into fine ash.

"Wait, what the—?" Doc swallowed. "I have... never seen anything like this."

"Let's see if his teeth are still in good shape." Caine next opened Everett's mouth; his lips had slightly crumbled, but were still intact enough to be pinched, and he could easily pull one of the man's teeth, which turned out to be fairly long. The tooth was dry and soft. "There's your murder weapon, Doc."

"This isn't a joke, is it?" The doctor grinned uneasily as he searched for a seat. "How about Maxwell's injury? It's far too pristine to be fangs or..."

"Claws. Sharp, deadly claws." Caine stated. "I witnessed it myself. We can't test it because it appears to collapse the moment we contact his fingers. We clearly can't establish that this is a genuine vampire; we don't even have a standard procedure for doing so. Nobody will ever believe us. I'll look for the evidence tomorrow and see if CSI or the lab found anything. Obviously, I did not murder this "guy." Someone or something must have realized he was a vampire and attempted to murder him."

"Yeah," the doctor answered, trembling slightly. "I'll look into the ash to see if I can learn anything about this thing."

"You okay, doc?" Caine inquired. "If you're afraid, keep the morgue locked just in case."

"Stop scaring me, Detective." The doctor sighed, wiping the cold sweat from his brow. Caine just chuckled and threw his gloves into the bin.

"You should call it a day, Doc." Caine said to the man as he turned to leave. "Go home and rest; you're going to need it. I'll be seeing you."