Master of Plagues - D. B. Reynolds (superbooks4u TXT) 📗

come into this area of the Bronx.”
“You and I both,” Orlando recalled. “The drug lords, gangs, muggers, and pimps, they claimed every inch of this territory here in the Bronx. I’d like to forget about the days when even we were scared to do our jobs.”
“Back in those days, ATM machines and payphones wouldn’t’ve lasted one minute without being vandalized. Between gangs taking over, city government not caring, and policemen being debilitated, I’d say we’ve made some strides.”
The detective led Orlando over by the bed. “The excitement hasn’t even started, Deputy Orlando.”
Orlando bucked his eyes after the covers on the bed were pulled back. “Whoa! What the hell’s this?”
“Myself and the guys from the precinct asked the same question.”
“A mechanical sex doll?” Orlando shrugged, left in total suspense.
The pair of men stepped over by one of the closets. “Someone had been operating the controls to the sex doll from inside this closet.”
“Operating it for what reason?”
“Believe that it was part of some type of prank.”
Orlando followed the detective to the closet on the opposite side. “Someone was in here playing music while someone else was operating a set of lights. Yes, this had to be part of some type of kiddie prank. A group of high school or college kids, you think, detective?”
“Possibly, Deputy Orlando,” the detective reasoned. “But where does this mechanical sex doll come into the prank?”
Orlando grunted while he whisked his hand across the middle of his face. “Detective, I’m no Albert Einstein or Sherlock Holmes, but I’ve been on the force long enough to know that a group of kids brought that mechanical sex doll here to this motel room to supposedly get some virgin kid laid.”
“My bets would’ve been with you.”
“Bring all of this together. A mechanical sex doll, music, psychedelic lights, and who knows whatever else. It’s all gotta be a part of some prank.”
Orlando glanced down at the floor and noticed the little white critters. “Where in the hell did these maggots come from?”
“Again, it might’ve been a part of their prank.”
“And this slippery-slimy crap? Where in the hell did it come from?”
“The prank, also, Deputy Orlando.”
“But who’d go through all of this trouble to pull a prank on someone?”
“A bunch of silly and bored youngsters.”
The detective was correct. Anthony Greenstein and the others were silly and bored. A team from the crime lab collected samples of the maggots and the compound spread out across the carpet. Experts searched rigorously for fingerprint samples.
“Could there possibly be a connection between Escobar’s murder and the pranksters?” Orlando examined, a scratching noise in the room putting him on high alert.
“You’ve just asked the trillion dollar question. One thing’s for sure, Escobar wasn’t the prank target.”
“Then, who was?”
The answer to Orlando’s question of great suspicion stood across the street from the motel. Stuart Duffelmeyer hadn’t left the scene. He should’ve left when the others were finished executing their senseless prank on him. The traumatizing effects nearly crippled him. He stood amongst a group of curious Bronx residents. Anger and vengeance streamed through his heart and mind. Somehow, some way, the egomaniacal NYU students were going to pay for what they did to him.
Back inside the motel room, Orlando wasn’t done with his questioning. “Detective, aren’t these motels being rented out to homeless families?”
“That’s correct, Deputy Orlando.”
“I’m sure these people come from grinding, abject poverty. Advocates for the homeless, social workers, city officials, what are they doing to get these people into decent housing?”
“I guess those 16th Congressional District people are supposed to be working on that very issue.”
“They better hurry up,” Orlando warned. “Deteriorated buildings, including these rundown motels, is an open invitation to widespread drug use and trafficking.”
“What’re we gonna do in the meantime?”
“Send one of your guys to meet with the Deputy Executive Director of Interface. A private social work network organization like them should be able to connect with the mayor and the governor to help curb some of these problems. We’ve had three murders in less than twenty-four hours, which is totally unacceptable.”
“All drug-related, of course.”
“Does the dope ever stop?”
“Deputy, how about the possible pranksters?”
“See what you can find out.” Orlando instructed. “Talk to a few of the occupants here at the motel. Get some of our guys to talk with some of the people who live nearby. We need answers and we need them fast.”
An unfamiliar scratching noise caught the attention of Orlando and his lead detective.
“Detective, did you hear that?” Orlando asked, resting his hand on the handle of his glock.
“Heard it just like you.”
One of the biggest rats in all of New York City appeared from the right side of the room. This creature had to be the largest rodent Deputy Orlando and his detective ever seen. The brightest, the most transcendent yellow light glowed from it’s eyes. The rat stood on it’s hind legs and displayed huge, razor-sharp teeth.
“Daaaaaaaaam!” Orlando yelled, jerking his gun right out of the holster. “Where in the hell did that thing come from?”
“Your guess is as good as mine’s!” the detective cried out, also pulling his gun out for possible protection.
The rat hissed at them. Orlando stood right at six-foot-two. The rodent came at least to his waist. Surprisingly, it carried itself as though it didn’t want to harm anyone. It’s eyes were channeled right outside the window. Stuart made direct eye-contact and their telepathic tagteam took place once again.
Orlando pointed his gun straight at the rat. “If that thing comes any closer, I’m shooting it straight through the wall.”
“I’m with you, Deputy Orlando,” the detective agreed. “I’m emptying this clip into that thing if it comes one step closer.”
The huge rat bent down and crawled into the closet. Like a quick gust of wind, it disappeared into thin air. Orlando and the detective crept over to the dark closet. They peeked inside and nothing was in there. Their pistols were still drawn like paranoid combat soldiers.
“Where’d it go?” Orlando inquired, waving his gun every which direction.
“Yeah, where’d it disappear to?”
“Did you see how it’s eyes were glowing like an alien from outer space?”
“Sure, like a creature from another planet.”
More light spilled into the closet. Orlando noticed there wasn’t the smallest hole through the adjoining walls. “That’s weird, there’re no holes in the walls. Where’d that monster rat crawl into?”
“Investigating the crime inside this room is weird. Deputy, this crime scene has started to give me the creeps.”
“The thing for us to do is to close up this crime scene.”
“And hope we don’t get eaten by that gigantic rat. I’ve lived in New York all my life, and yet, I’ve never seen a rat that damn big. I’ve never seen rats whose eyes glowed. Gosh, I’ve seen some big ones, but none compares to that monster we saw.”
Orlando did the smart thing by closing up the crime scene. Would anyone believe they’d seen the colossal rodent with glowing eyes they’d claimed to have seen? Many questions thirsted for answers in the Bronx, New York.


CHAPTER—5

A NEW BEST FRIEND

Stuart escaped one of the most crime-infested areas of New York City by catching a busy subway train once dubbed “The Muggers Express”. Catch a train as dangerous as the one he presently rode back in the 1970s and 1980s, you were sure to get mugged by some savage waiting for easy prey. Passengers riding the train were worn out from a long day’s work or just dealing with the stinking “rat race” throughout the city.
Stuart had every reason to be worn out. The prank orchestrated by his NYU classmates drained him emotionally and mentally. Never would he be the same. Psychologically, he was damaged for life. Acts of vengeance tainted his mind. Passengers on the train looked over at him. Utter distress was etched across his face. Many could tell he’d been wronged. The egomaniacal eight were due to pay for what they’d done to him.
The six train stopped off near the lower east side of Manhattan. Stuart wasn’t quite ready to walk up on the streets. Thoughts of getting those pranksters back weighed heavy on his mind. The squeaking sounds of subway trains racing across the tracks jolted the nerves of him and other waiting passengers. The tracks were clear for the moment. Squeaking noises, not those of approaching trains, echoed up on the platform. Stuart and other awaiting passengers spotted one of the biggest rats in all of New York City.
“Heavens!” charged an old woman. “Look at the size of that thing.”
“We’d better be careful,” warned a middle-aged man. “He looks like he wants to have one of us for dinner.”
“Goodness gracious!” chanted a large-built woman. “Doesn’t look like a rat of that size has been missing any meals.”
The gigantic rodent exchanged aggressive eye contact with Stuart. The two appeared to have something in common. Stuart sized up the rat. The rat sized up Stuart. Astoundingly, it was the same huge creature from the motel room in the Bronx. The rat hopped up on the platform and passengers wildly dispersed. They ran and jumped every direction to avoid a possible attack. There was an unexplainable connection between them.
A homeless man with a long matted beard held up a long stick. “Doesn’t he know that that monster rat will bite a big chunk out of him?”
Stuart patted the humongous rat across the top of its head. Yes, there was some strange connection between them. The approaching trains raced towards them. The rat jumped off the platform and just vanished into thin air. All the bystanders approached Stuart like he was the number one rock star in the world.
Another heavyset woman walked up and asked,