Rapture Falls (5 page)

             
DI Brendon McCullum stood amongst the filth and tried to firmly
button
his coat of detachment, he was a man who stood apart from his surroundings and his colleagues. An educated man
who took pride in his appearance and held himself with
a
pride that was more often than not taken for an aloofness and arrogance amongst his subordinates and superiors. A police detective who was happy in his own company and who had no desire to spend he evenings watching his paycheck being spewed out of both ends behind nameless, faceless bars in the city centre. These are characteristics that are not conducive for a transferred detective to settling in and being accepted within the close knit bosom of a new station.
Transferred as part of his promotion to Detective Inspector,
McCullum had little in common with his new surroundings, he did not drink heavily, he was not divorced, he was not interested in socializing and he committed the cardinal sin in the Welsh capital, he was not interested in sport especially rugby. He had only been in
Cardiff
for a little over three weeks and was already regarded with suspicion and scorn in equal measures. He stood at around six foot three with broad shoulders and a thick chest that seemed to strain even the most personally tailored
suits;
he was a powerful man with a stare that seemed to deter more trouble that his sheer powerful bulk ever did.
At thirty six
McCullum considered himself to be an amalgamation of policemen, he liked to think that he combined the aggression and hardness of a lost era with the intelligence and detective skills of the modern day.
He now found himself stood amongst the dirt and decay of a deserted warehouse in a less than reputable area of the city staring at a naked and ruined male body sprawled across a ratty old desk, his watch read 9.36am and his stomach informed him that it was way too early for this type of activity.

“Hey Mac”, McCullum cringed at the nickname, a voice echoed toward him emanating from a short and
spotty PC
who’s name he had not registered and remembered yet. McCullum walked across the large room toward the prone body and the eager officer,
the scene had been secured and forensics were awaited, the flashbulbs of the photographers bounced off of the walls as the gruesome image was imortalised.
PC Eager was positively bouncing with excitement, oblivious to the reality of the situation, McCullum knew that this was a man, probably a husband and a father, this was no video game or
Hollywood
movie, the burrowing flies testified to that.

“Son, calm down and step back before you contaminate the scene” McCullum’s voice was hard and stern, the young PC’s enthusiasm was suitably punctured.

McCullum leaned in closer, the body had been severely beaten, the swelling was horrendous, the figure’s face was distorted to such a grotesque degree that he could immediately tell that ID was going to be difficult without relying on either fingerprints or DNA.
The size and shape of the blows did not seem to indicate that any sort of weapon had been used, McCullum found this deeply puzzling as the force that had been inflicted was such that the use of bare hands could not possibly have been the root cause as it would have taken an extraordinary amount of strength.
The sound of the forensic vans arriving outside bringing the procedural investigation pulled McCullum from his
thoughts;
he took a last look at the dead man,

“For your sake my friend, I hope you deserved it” he muttered under his breath.

             
Baine entered his sanctuary, the expensive penthouse was minimally furnished, the floor of the main living area was a dark hardwood,
and three
large hand woven
Egyptian
rugs punctuated the hardwood sea. The walls were a
neutral
coffee
colour;
the right hand wall was dominated by an expansive bespoke bookcase that spread over the long walls expanse. The far end of the room was almost entirely glass holding views over the cities
landscape;
Baine threw the money case onto a plush ivory sofa in the middle of the room as he passed. He walked into the perfectly formed Italian kitchen, he took a small imported lager from a mini bar secreted inside a cabinet on the small kitchen’s breakfast bar and walked toward the
large
glass
windows. He paused and bathed closed eyed amongst the filtering sunlight, he breathed deeply and released the tension of the hallway battle, each exhale slowed his heartbeat and relaxed his muscles.
He opened his eyes and surveyed the window’s scene, the height and breadth of the view always drew him closer and not for the first time he examined the heavens for explanations, he had always instinctively felt that to offer questions as to his nature would have been a mistake, but there was no
denying
that his curiosity was growing ever more acute. He knew that he was stron
ger and faster than normal men and
he healed
scarily
quickly
, he wasn’t trained in any conventional sense but he moved with a fluidity and a purpos
e during conflicts that made him
far more dangerous
for
anyone who had had the misfortune to stand in front of him
. The broken arm
that he had suffered the night before at the hands of Sinclair’s heavies
had fused and mended within three hours leaving him feeling slightly tired and a little light headed, to date this was probably the worst injury that he had suffered and he wasn’t sure just how much damage he could take and
still
completely
regenerate.
He nurse
d the cold beer deep in thought as the city stared impassively back,
he had no idea how
the
clients seemed to
continuously
find him, but a steady flow always did
and he knew that he must always fulfill his obligations. Just lately however he had begun to wonder more and more about the secrets that eluded him, the answers that danced beyond his comprehension about his origins, his background and his future, the lack of independence that existed in his life was beginning to tug away at his thoughts and mind. The doorbell clanged
waking Baine from his thoughts, he spun around uncharacteristically startled and a momentary flash of fear tore at his stomach, he always knew in advance when ever anyone had previously approached his door, he felt their
presence before anybody had ever
got anywhere near him. He stood rock still, his indecision rooted him to the spot, the very sound of the doorbell and the implications of the surprise chilled him, he shook off the feeling, anger replaced the
uncertainty
and as always whenever faced with the rare occasion of not being 100% sure of his next move he ploughed in headfirst. He strode purposefully across the room and deliberately refused himself permission to view his unknown visitor through the door’s peephole, he would not feel fear, he did not feel fear. He flung open the door with way too much force, the door handle punched into the inside wall sending a puff of plaster i
nto the air in surrender,
a
tall
man
stood before him, faster tha
n even Baine could move the
tall
man raised his right hand
, his long slim fingers out stretched, he wiped his hand in a downward motion in front of Baine’s face,

“Sleep” the
tall
man whispered.

Baine sank to th
e floor, effortlessly the
tall
m
an scooped him up and carried him inside the apartment, the door swung slowly in compliance and closed behind them.

TALL TALES

“
And the angel answering said unto him, I am Gabriel,
that stand in the presence of God; and am sent to speak unto thee,
and t
o show thee these glad tidings”.
 

Luke 1:19

The room swam and struggled
to regain
focus
, Baine closed his eyes again, he tried to reboot and start again, this time when he reopened them the room gave up its spinning merry go round with some reluctance. Baine began to adjust to his surroundings and situation, he was led on his sofa staring at the ceiling, all at once he remembered the man at the door, he sat bolt upright ignoring his blurring vision that threatened to reacquaint him with last nights dinner.