Tortured Dreams

Chapter Fifty

Chapter 50

Alejandro was carted to an ambulance. Michael followed the ambulance to the hospital. Xavier went back to work on the bodies. Lucas stood, arms folded over his massive chest, watching Xavier. Xavier handed me a pair of gloves and made me put them on. Together we removed one of the head cages.

"These were done simultaneously and they don't have the markings," I told him as I held the head cage in my hand.

"Why send messages when they've pulled us in?" He asked.

"I don't know, don't serial killers have MOs and things?"

"Normally, yes, but the writing may not have been part of the MO. The writing could have just been an attempt to show how smart they were. They proved it here." Lucas shrugged at me.

"Learning anything?" Xavier asked.

"It's very high quality, nothing like the originals. Originals could be made of almost any metal. The rats had a free meal; they weren't likely to run away. The victim was bound, so it wasn't like they were going to get out of it. If they did, they were still tongue-less and usually eyeless."

"I think the heads have cyanide on them." Xavier said.

"Why would Alejandro react that fast? Did he ingest it?" I asked.

"The rat bit him," Lucas answered.

"So? I didn't see a blood smear on the counter."

"It's stupid, but the human condition says 'ouch, blood' and when it is on something like a finger, we stick the wound in our mouth automatically. He probably ingested the cyanide. My guess, the rat was coated in it, Alejandro grabbed the rat, the rat bit him, he stuck the wound in his mouth after dropping the rat. The rat scampers away. The cyanide gets ingested. Alejandro reacts to it."

"Will he live?" I asked.

"Maybe, it depends on several factors," Xavier answered.

"Is there an antidote?"

"Yes," Xavier answered. "We have always been able to treat cyanide poisoning. In the last five years, it has gotten better, but it depends on how much he ingested and the type of cyanide."

"I see." I frowned at the head cage. "This is really well made and it's steel or some sort of alloy."

"Steel is an alloy." Lucas told me.

"You know what I meant, it could be carbon steel or stainless steel or tungsten or nickel; there are other alloy options."

"I knew what you meant," Lucas gave me a thin smile.

"Sorry, head cages don't have a lot of information in them."

"Unlike Iron Maidens," Xavier chirped.

"Unlike Iron Maidens." I agreed.

"Do you have any information about this particular set of head cages?" Lucas asked.

"They were made by the guy that made the Scavenger's Daughter. His stamp is on here just like it was with the screw mechanism. This time, it's on the latch mechanism."

"Does this bother you?" Lucas asked.

"I feel useless, other than that, no." I admitted.

"You aren't useless. Tell me about the rats." Lucas said.

"Rats were used because they were convenient. Honestly, the entire contraption is convenient. It was most popular in France. It wasn't hard to tie a person up and find a way to contain some rats over their head. In a professional setting, the rats would be kept for a day or two without food. The head cage was placed over the victim, the rats inserted through the top." I pointed to another latch.

He nodded. I clicked it and it sprung open revealing a square about three inches by three inches. I closed the cage, hearing it latch and then mimed putting rats in through the open trap door on top. Lucas frowned.

"It wasn't pretty; the rats can do a lot of damage in just a few minutes. Some will crawl out of the holes, most won't. Sensing the helplessness of the victim, the rats would set to feeding."

"And they did," Xavier brought our attention back to the bodies in the room.

"What do you know?" Lucas asked.

"I'll know more when I get them on the tables. I'm pretty sure the bodies have a stray rat or two on the inside. I thought I saw something move a few seconds ago that wasn't consistent with post-death twitches. I'd say the deaths were painful and slow."

"Not as slow as some deaths," I quipped quietly.

"Very true." Xavier took off the gloves.

A couple of men appeared. They took the bodies and put them inside bags. I watched it with detached awareness. For several minutes, I just stood. Men and women were moving all around me. They were scraping things, cataloging things, doing things I couldn't even begin to fathom.

Lucas stood next to me. He watched everyone moving about the rooms. Xavier had already left, following the bodies. I diverted my attention to the bloodstains on the floor.

"You look lost in thought." Lucas said.

"The scavenger was the first; the rats were second, what happens if there's a third?"

"What does the third mean?"

"We'll be pulling baked bodies out of a giant bronze bull and it will horrify me to no end."

"Wait." Lucas turned on me.

"What?"

"How many people can build a giant bronze bull? Especially one that is hollow inside?"

"I doubt there are many."

"I think we've been chasing the wrong torture device. How certain are you that a bull is on the list?"

"After finding the rats and the Scavenger's Daughter, about 98%. It explains the scavenger as well. It didn't fit. But if you think about Malachi and his crushed bodies case, it explains the scavenger. The rats were Nyleena's weakness. The bull would be mine."

"So you said."

"I'm terrified of it." I admitted.

"You are truly afraid of being burned to death?"

"In something like that? Yes. You don't die in a few minutes because of smoke inhalation. The bull doesn't allow for the smoke to enter. Instead, you cook. You are literally baked alive inside it and your struggles make the bull look like it is dancing. I can't think of anything more horrible."

"Then I think we should investigate the bulls and their makers."

"To what end? Even if we find the makers, how will we know who the killer is?"

"What size are these things?"

"Depends on the make. If it fits just one, it is significantly smaller than one that fits two or three people. One person, it's usually a cavity where the person is forced down on hands and knees. More than one and it varies."

"And how long does it take to work?"

"Hours, sometimes longer. It depends on who is stoking the flames."

"Come on," Lucas grabbed my arm and pulled me from the crime scene.