2 Chapter 2: Conspiracy

Four hours later, the pastor found himself sitting alone in an interrogation room with only the company of a table, another chair in front of him and a flickering light bulb above his head. His pure white pastoral rob was forever stained red with the blood of Judas. He stared deeply at nothing in the overwhelmingly silent room. The light flickered and he looked up at the bulb wondering if the suspension will ever end. Yet he wouldn't have to wonder for too long. Immediately flooding his ear canals were the sound of phones ringing off the hook, police officers shouting and unruly criminal shouting back at said police officers. Essen had opened the door David found out. After he entered the room, he closed the door and the noise ceased altogether.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Pastor," Essen greeted, sitting down in the empty chair that was immediately in front of him. He rested a paper folder with a pen attached to it on the table.

"You can call me David."

"Indeed," Essen replied with a weird long stare.

"I've been here all night, Detective. Can't I go home and clean myself up?"

Essen did not reply right away, but instead opened the folder and flipped onto a page. "David Murdock. Age, thirty. Parents are Nathaniel and Martha Murdock; both died in a car accident. Your older brother became your guardian at age nineteen."

"What is this, Detective?"

He ignored him and continued: "It says here you've been arrested two times for driving under the influence; five times for the possession of cocaine and other illegal narcotics; and two times for vandalizing private property. Quite a colourful background for a pastor," Essen ended.

"I am not that person anymore. My brother, he got me into the church. It has helped me since. I've been clean for two years now," he admitted, showing him an AA Keychain.

"Oh really? So you're telling me if I was to lock you in here for an hour with a bag of cocaine, you wouldn't make up for lost time? Jeez, I know I would."

"Seriously, what is this, Detective? Hmm? Am I a suspect or what?"

"You tell me?"

"I'm not."

"How did you know Judas? Was he one of your junkie brothers?"

"No. I've never met that man before. I swear---"

"Careful. The good book says not to swear."

"I'm telling the truth. I've known a lot of junkies, myself included. That man wasn't on anything. Just think, Detective. Who in their right mind would go through so much trouble to assassinate a junkie?"

"I don't know, probably a high-end dealer," the detective humoured.

David did not laugh. "He kept saying that, 'they are going to kill me'. I believe that it is this 'they' that killed him."

Essen immediately had a flashback to when he heard Judas warning about the same thing, inside the cathedral and outside when he was bringing him to the police car. This made him a little more open in listening to what David had to say. "So if I'm understanding you correctly, he believed that his life was in danger and he decided to go to a church, for what, protection?"

"Yes, it was for protection but not from the people that were after him. He believed that a demon was also trying to kill him."

Essen then leaned backwards in his chair and began to rub his rough beard in exhaustion. "Wow. This is a whole lot of crazy to take in, in one night. Demons you say?"

"As silly as that sounds, Detective, it was real to him."

"Don't tell me you believe he was telling the truth?"

"What, about the demon part?"

"Yeah."

"We did converse for a little while before you showed up and already I could tell that he was a very educated man. But I don't know. To me, demons had always been a representation of everything evil in the world and not actual living entities. But like I said, I don't know. I'll probably believe when I see one."

The door then opened and interrupted their awkward conversation. It was the police captain.

"A word, Detective Essen," the captain said.

"Sure thing, Cap," Essen quickly replied, closing the folder and getting up.

David eyes lit up when he asked, "So am I free to go, Detective?"

Essen took a while to make up his mind but he eventually did, saying, "Yes you're free to go. Just don't leave the city. The front desk lady will check you out."

David gladly then walked out of the room with Essen, later parting ways with him to get himself checked out. Essen caught up with his captain and joined him in walking through the very chaotic police department that was marked by officers booking rebelling criminals; ringing telephones going unanswered and noisy cellmates asking for their one phone call.

"So any leads yet on our victim's killer?" The police captain asked.

Essen trying to keep up with the captain, replied, "Unfortunately, no. But I think the proper word you're looking for may be killers."

"So you're thinking it's something more organized we're dealing with here?"

"It must be. The precision of the shooter; and the balls to do it right in front of us. Obviously, someone didn't want us to bring him in alive."

"I think you're onto something, Essen. It's a shame I will have to take you off the case."

Essen abruptly stopped walking. "Wait, say what?"

The captain stopped also and said, "What part of you're off the case didn't you understand?"

"Why?!"

"The Feds, they've suddenly become interested in the case. So apparently it is above our pay grades now. That's why you're off the case."

"This is bull crap, Captain," Essen said, slamming his folder on the floor in a fit of anger; sending the pages it contained to scatter all over the shone floor. This drew the attention of a few police officers, who all stopped what they were doing to watch inquisitively. "I haven't taken up a good case in weeks. I need this," he insisted with great desperation in his eyes.

"Essen, I'm truly sorry for your misgivings. But my hands are tied on this one."

"Captain Briggs?!"

"This is an order, Detective. An order I expect you to adhere to!" The captain afterwards walked away.

"What are you all staring at!? Get back to work, get back to work!" Essen said, shouting at his colleges who he realized was staring.

All the officers who had stopped to watch quickly went back to work and acted as nothing did happen. Essen then took in a puff of air to calm his nerves and started to take up the pages one by one from off the floor which had made a mess.

Out of the blues a well polite, plaid shirt-wearing young man stood behind the detective and asked, "Are you the detective, Detective Essen?"

"What is it to you?" Essen grumbled not caring to look around at him.

"My name is Ezra Strange. I'm here to identify the body of the man who was killed at the Cathedral not too long ago," the quite slender, twenty-something young man stated, pushing his eyeglasses properly upon his nose.

Essen quickly stood up and looked at him keenly. "You knew Judas?" He asked.

"I think so but I need to see his body first."

"Of course, follow me this way," Essen said with a cocked eyebrow after putting most of the pages back into the folder. He subsequently pushed it underneath his armpit and led the young man to the police morgue.

In the morgue, the smell of formaldehyde slapped them in the face. Essen pulled up a switch which later turned on the lights and the ventilation system inside the entire morgue. A body laid atop a table, covered under a white sheet. They both walked up to the body and Essen removed the sheet from its face. "Quickly. Do you recognise this man?"

Ezra after seeing his face for just two seconds turned away with a disappointed look. The Detective then covered back the body.

"Well do you know him or not?" Essen folded his arms.

"His name is Judas Strange. He was my uncle," Ezra finally replied with his jaw tightened and eyebrows frowned.

"You don't look too surprised to see him like this---"

"I know who did this," Ezra wasted no time in saying.

Yet before the detective could follow up with a question, the morgue doors were busted open and two FBI agents barged in with the mortician. The two men in black then flashed their badges to Essen.

"What are you doing in here, Detective? I'm sure your Captain Briggs informed you that this case no longer concerns you," one of them said.

"Nope, first I'm hearing this."

"All evidence, including the body and your notes, belongs to us as of this moment," the other FBI agent robotically informed, holding out his hand for Essen to turn over the folder that he had under his armpit.

Essen hesitated at first, grinding his teeth in defiance, but ultimately he conceded and placed the folder in the FBI agent's hand.

"You did the right thing, Detective. We will bring this man's killer to justice."

With the mortician pushing the body out through the door, the FBI agents left.

"Stupid Feds," Essen scoffed under his breath, tightening his fists.

"You know they are lying right?" Ezra said, clutching his hands which stood at his side.

"About what?"

"About bringing my uncle's killer to justice."

"I know they are jerks but these are federal agents we're talking about here. They'll probably solve your uncle's case much faster than I could."

"Nothing will come out of this. Mark my words, Detective," Ezra remarked over his shoulder as he began to walk away.

"Hey, kid. What did you meant by when you said you knew who kill him?" Essen asked just when he was about to walk out through the doors.

He then stopped and turned around. "I meant exactly that. I know who killed him," he confidently boasted.

"Talk," Essen demanded.

"I can't. Not here. We would have to do this somewhere else."

"Look, kid, I don't have time for games. Spill it."

"How badly do you want the truth, Detective?" Ezra walked up into his face with folded arms.

"How badly do I want the truth? I saw your uncle's brains blown out right before my eyes. They could have easily taken me out after. I want to know the bastards responsible for this and put them behind bars where they can rot."

"Then, in that case, I'm going to need you to trust me. Come with me and you'll get your answer. But know this. Once you go down this rabbit hole with me there is no coming back," Ezra ended, enticing him even more.