Behind Closed Doors

Chief McKinney paced outside city hall's press room doors beneath the large and imposing seal engraved above its entrance. The emblem was supposed to give the space an air of authority and importance, but right now it just felt oppressive. Though he'd been here for briefings and press releases numerous times, never before had he felt as apprehensive as he did today.

Twenty years on the force, the last four spent serving as Chief of Police, yet he had never seen things this bad. The city was in a growing state of panic.

Parents kept their children home from school, fathers encouraged each other to carry guns, and women were afraid to venture out after dark. McKinney hated to admit it, but they had good reason to be scared.

Assaults, robberies, and home invasions had all inexplicably jumped in the last year with no clear patterns establishing why. Politicians blamed gangs, though the known players didn't make up half of the reported incidents. Worse still, Over the last ten months missing persons cases had risen dramatically. Low risk victims, adults and children alike, were vanishing without rhyme or reason. The facts didn't add up, and people were starting to get desperate. 

Yet even amidst all this, the most disturbing details were still largely unknown to the public...

McKinney pulled out a crinkled note from his pocket. Its creases worn as though it had been opened and re-folded too many times. The message said simply; "Dirty players in your house. They're taking kids."

The timing of the note's arrival had been as suspicious as its contents, and it was impossible to question the author now...

Ever since, McKinney had noticed the suspicious lack of evidence in booking,  the missing details in reports, and the surprising inefficiency of his officers coinciding with the rise in crime. He feared conspiracy and collusion running right into the heart of his department. But proof was scant, and things were escalating.

Now a little girl had to be added to the list of the missing. He felt overwhelmed, powerless. It made him angry. Brooding to himself, McKinney returned the note to his pocket, and continued to wear a path in the tile.

From a nearby wall beside the press room doors, McKinney's companion, Lieutenant Finnick, watched his Chief while fidgeting with his lucky zippo, the steady click-clack of the lid echoing throughout the hall.

"You keep that up, you're going to need new shoes, boss," Finnick said.

McKinney glowered at him and maintained his pace.

"So, what's the Mayor's angle?" Finncik asked as he twirled the lighter.

McKinney shook his head, "No idea, but he insists I let his new task force handle things."

Mild surprise passed over Finnick's bored expression. "Who is he naming for the team?" He asked.

McKinney's gray mustache twitched, "who do you think?"

Finnick stiffend, "the trio? Fuck."

Mckinney continued to pace anxiously. "Tell me you found something?" he pleaded.

Finnick shook his head. "Pretty sure my team is compromised too, I've had to pull in some outside help, but so far, every lead I find comes back empty. Surveillance at the casino goes black, nothing to use for a wiretap... all I got is rumors and an ulcer."

The Chief stopped and straightened his sleeves compulsively. "Yeah, I know what that's like," he said, eyeing another uniformed officer walking towards them from down the hall.

Assistance Chief Enzo Bianchi approached McKinney, a smug expression playing across his pinched face as he smoothed back his greasy black hair.

"Chief," he said with mocking formality. "Sorry, I'm late. Got caught up having a chat with the Mayor after lunch. Oh, and I thought you might need this." He handed McKinney a packet.

McKinney took the paper and scanned it. As he read on, his face reddened and he grew hot under the collar.

It was the Mayor's press release, but different from the one he received that morning. Now it stated he would address the rise in crime terrorizing the city, but refuted the potential link to the increase in missing person cases or the growing concern it was all connected to a larger criminal enterprise.

"This is a damn lie." McKinney growled, "We don't know if there is a connection or not."

"My team has concluded the preliminaries. There is no connection," Bianchi sneered.

Finnick walked up from behind McKinney, taking the packet from him and reading it in disgust.

The palpable tension in the hall was interrupted by the arrival of a group of suited men, led by Mayor Gambal. The politician's robotic smile fixed in place, he stopped in front of the Chief.

"Gentleman," he greeted silkily, "shall we?"

Scowling, McKinney allowed himself to be led into the conference hall, the other officers falling in line behind him.

Dozens were already inside the room, all members of the press. Though reporters did not often attend these events in person anymore, given the current environment of fear in the city, every wanna-be with a podcast was eager for a first crack at this story. They all knew the reports would trend once they were posted online.

Mayor Gambal and his entourage entered the room. The middle-aged politician looked fit and energetic, with the slightest touch of gray marking his short-cropped black hair. His face was fixed in a smile, as always, and he waved mechanically to no one in imparticular as he took the podium and faced the cameras.

The Police Chief and several council members took up positions behind him along the wall, while a large poster of the latest missing child stood displayed up front. The Mayor tapped a stack of papers on the podium and cleared his throat.

"Thank you all for coming. I would like to start by acknowledging Chief McKinney and all the hard work he and his brave men have done so far to address our current crisis."

The stout Police Chief nodded curtly to the Mayor, betraying no hint of emotion.

"As we all know, there has been a marked rise in crime recently. Well, I am pleased to say that we will be launching a new special operations unit whose sole purpose will be to address these rising threats. I have hand-selected three detectives of high repute who will head this new team and stamp out this threat!" He pounded his fist on the podium, and his brow furrowed, a pointed expression of sincerity.

"As many of you know, a young girl has recently gone missing, and foul play is suspected," he pointed to the poster. "But rest assured, my new task force is diligently working her case as we speak. As I promised in my campaign, public safety is my number one concern. We will not compromise, and we will not falter!"

Throughout the room, eyebrows quirked and people shook their heads. He wasn't saying anything, and they knew it. At the break in the Mayor's speech, everyone started at once, each shouting their questions until one made himself heard above the rest.

"What about the rumors of a human trafficking ring responsible for the uptick in missing person cases?" He called out.

With a slight chuckle Mayor Gambal shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. "As my office has said, the police assured me there is no connection in any current missing person cases. Sadly, incidents such as young Annabell's, occur in every city, but I encourage everyone to please stick to the facts instead of listening to these false and provocative online agitators."

Interrupting the conference, a young man in a suit entered the room and hurried up to the mayor, whispering urgently in his ear. Gambal made a show of frowning and nodding earnestly, then turned back to the microphone.

"I sincerely apologize, an urgent issue has come up that I must address. Please refer to the packets we have provided for any further questions." The smile returned on cue and he waved again as he left the room, followed by a storm of shouts from the unsatisfied crowd.

In the ruckus, Chief McKinney and Lieutenant Finnick quietly slipped out the back door at the opposite end of the hall. Had anyone seen the Chiefs face as he departed, the loathing slipping through his disciplined stony exterior would have betrayed his true thoughts on the Mayor's words.

"I want eyes on the trio at all times," he said to Finnick in a low voice. "Keep the circle tight, only use the men you know you can trust."

As he exited the door, Finnick pulled out a cigarette. "You know if he gets word you're investigating his pet cops, he'll pressure the rest of the council and get the votes to out you."

McKinney glared, "Just do it."

He crossed the parking lot to his car, leaving Finnick alone on the sidewalk. 

***

From the Mayor's office on the fifth floor of city hall, a woman with beautiful hollow eyes peers out from the window watching McKinney as he drives away. She knows who he is, and how her husband feels about him. She would go to him for help if she thought she could...

As the Chief's tail lights vanish down the road, she turns from the window briefly looking about her husband's office.

The room was decorated to uphold the Mayor's facade. It was done up in simple modern fashion; a single fern placed in one corner, while several patriotic stock photos hung along the walls. A portrait of the Gambal's with their son was strategically positioned on his desk, visible to anyone who would sit across from him.

Standing alone in the room, the Mayor's wife glances down at the photo on the desk, then turns back to the window, resuming her solemn vigil. She watches the clouds drift by overhead, when the sound of footsteps approach from down the hall. 

With practiced efficiency she hides the shiver that runs down her spine as she hears her husband enter with his assistant. She never looks away from the window, her posture indifferent to their arrival, but her senses keenly alert.

"Can I get you anything sir?" The young man asks Mayor Gambal eagerly.

She can hear her husband's false smile without looking at him. "Oh no thank you." he says, "Please just make sure I'm not disturbed."

 The door hinge creaks as it begins to shut, but stops short, and the aid speaks hesitantly, "Was... was that ok sir?" He asks. 

Gambal laughs, and she recognizes his growing impatience. The young man irritates him.

"Yes, thank you." Gambal Says, "If anyone else asks, I'm still dealing with the 'urgent Issue'." 

The aid laughs nervously as well and finally shuts the door.

She can barely stop her face from twitching when the door snaps shut, leaving her alone with him.

Her breath catches in her chest as he walks up behind her. His ominous presence presses against her without ever touching as he reaches over her shoulder to grab hold of the window curtain.

She holds perfectly still as he pulls the shades past her, obscuring the view of the city below, enveloping the office in darkness. 

Slowly she turns her head, to face the gray faux wood cabinet across the darkened room. Her husband walks to the cabinet and stands before it.  

"Come Katherine," Gambal says, his voice cold as ice, all the pretense of his public facade now gone.

She does as she is told, maintaining her composure, doing her best to hide her fear. 

She comes to her husband's side as he takes hold of the cabinet handles and pulls them open to reveal the odd contents within. 

It is nearly empty but for a single shelf.  The interior walls had been painted black, and the sole shelf held only two items; a small, black obsidian pyramid, and a simple single-edged knife. Gambal holds his arms out to his sides.

Dutifully, Katherine begins the tasks that are expected of her. She undresses him in silence while her husband stares intently at the stone pyramid.

She removes his tie, his shirt, his trousers. In short order her husband stands naked before the eerie altar, his eyes fixed on the statue as he reaches out and retrieves the knife. 

 Katherine stands at her husband's back in the blackened office. The subtle sounds of the outside world grow quiet, then cease all together. The very air about the room develops a heavy, stagnant quality and Katherine feels the familiar sensation of dred growing in her stomach.

She watches as her husband becomes like stone. For several minutes they remain in oppressive silence, his eyes intently fixed on the black stone pyramid.

Suddenly, he convulses.

Gambal sucks in a sharp breath as though emerging from a deep pool, his eyes rolling back in his head. His exposed skin prickles and his body shivers where he stands. After a moment, the fit passes and his body calms.

"Yes," he whispers to the dark room. "Yes, It's done."

Katherine dares to glance at the dark pyramid, the all-too familiar terror of what's to come rising in her chest. 

She watches as Gambal lowers the knife to the scarred flesh of his bare thigh. Slowly he draws the blade across, desecrating himself once more before his dark altar.

"Yes master," he moanes as blood trickles down his legs. 

Katherine's breath quickens, and she waits for the order...

"Katherine," he coos, making her jump. "Bring me Benjamin."

Her terror transforms as her eyes shoot to the family portrait on the desk. "W-what?" she stammers.

Gambal slowly turns to face her, blood pouring down his legs, his face ugly with hate, "You would question the master?" he says menacingly.

Katherines' entire body shakes. Her own scars, covered by her crisp blouse and long skirt, burn with memory and her fear multiplies. In utter, numb disbelief she crosses the room and cracks open the office door.

Outside it, a dark haired boy of ten sits on a bench playing on a cell phone. He stops and looks up at his mother.

"B-b-benjamin... Can you come in here sweety?..."

The boy enters and the door closes behind him, leaving the hallway outside void of evidence to what horrors are transpiring within.