The Beast of 1977 (Book 1)

It was well past six that evening, close to half past the hour. A surly and numb Detective Bruin, along with three other persons,
exited the elevator and stepped onto the seventh floor of Saint Titus hospital.
His crimson red face was still frigid, along with his hands that were lodged inside his coat pockets as he casually strolled down
the semi-busy hallway. The hustle of emergencies had all but seemingly died down, at least for the time being. With the
exception of a couple of chatting doctors in a nearby corner and four female nurses going on about what they were planning on
doing once their shifts ended, it was a relatively peaceful evening.
With every other step Linus found himself slowing down, either to listen to the female voice over the loud speaker paging a
doctor or just biding his time to reach Gloria Cohen's room.
The closer he drew, the more his feet wanted to turn and walk away. For the sake of nagging, curious ambition, Linus wanted to
see the young kidnap victim face to face one final time. For him, it was peace of mind to find out if she was alright; he wanted
more than anything to be assured that the ungodly expression on her face that she was wearing two mornings earlier had forever
vanished.
As he approached the room, a sudden wave of searing heat slithered down his spine. His right hand shook as it neared the
door's handle. He knocked first.
"Come in!" A female's voice called out.
Gently, Linus pushed open the door and noticed a plump, blonde-haired white woman, who looked as though she were in her
early to mid-thirties, seated in a chair next to the bed where Gloria was lying comatose.
Gloria's brunette hair laid flat across her shoulders while her eyes were totally fixated on the television that was mounted up on
the wall in front of her. For a second or two, Linus lost control of his own body to where he couldn't even move a single muscle.
"If you're another reporter or yet another police officer, "I've told you people everything. There's nothing more to talk about." The
woman impatiently sighed while rising up out of her seat.
Linus blushed and explained, "Well, I am an officer, but I'm not here for questioning. Detective Linus Bruin, Cypress Police."
Instantly, the woman's eyes grew large right before she extended her right hand. "Oh...I'm so sorry, I thought you were someone
else." She suddenly caught herself off guard.

"Don't be sorry, I understand." Linus smiled while shaking the woman's hand right back. "My name is Deborah Cohen. I'm
Gloria's older sister."
"Good to meet you, Deborah." Linus humbly beamed as his eyes shifted from Deborah to Gloria's motionless body on the bed.
"I, uh...I just stopped by to see how the young lady was doing." Linus nearly forgot how to breath.
Looking down at her sister, Deborah feebly snickered, "Well, as you can see, she's taking it the only way she knows how right
now."
"I can see that."
"Yep, she hasn't eaten anything or said a single word to anyone since being brought here. She won't even speak to me. All she
does is lay there and watch TV." Deborah clarified. "Every so often she'll start to cry, then she'll stop for a few hours, and it'll start
right back up all over again."
Trying not to appear rude, Linus redirected his pitiful eyes away from Gloria and pointed them up at the television.
Linus sniggered before saying, "Nothing like a game of basketball to liven things up."
"That's the funny thing about it, she doesn't even like sports. I just got tired of changing channels, so I just left it there. I honestly
don't think she even knows it's on. I figure whatever she went through in that man's house must've been pretty damn scary. I'd
like to thank you, Detective, for saving her life."
"Don't thank me, something else got to the fella first."
"Yeah, it's all over the news. Do you think anyone can catch it?"
"We're prepping a task force as we speak. Hopefully we can find it before it strikes again."
"I still can't believe that it killed that family. Four little girls...all dead," Deborah gasped. "How do you cope with all of that, Mr.
Bruin?"
Linus breathed in and modestly answered, "You try not to carry it home with you. Believe me, it only makes matters even worse."
"I'll admit that you're the first officer that's stopped by here just to pay a social visit. All of the other guys that show up just want to
ask questions."
"Let's just say that...I just happen to know someone else in a similar situation."

"Someone close to you," Deborah questioned with deep concern.
"You could say that." Linus meekly responded as if he were too ashamed to answer.
"It's just hard to believe that there are people out there that are that sick. A car dealer of all things," Deborah cringed. "I
remember watching those commercials with him and his son. His son was kind of cute, too."
Amused, Linus quaintly chuckled and switched his attention back to Gloria whose facial features hadn't changed in the slightest
bit. Her entire body was as immobile as cement.
"Funny thing is, as many days as he missed at his own dealership, not even his co-workers noticed anything suspicious. You get
rid of one monster and out pops another." Deborah flinched.
"That seems to be the running theme down at the station." Linus smirked.
Linus watched as Deborah began shaking her head in dismay before he glanced down at Gloria who had managed to move her
bed covers enough to where a bible could be seen securely gripped in her right hand.
"Isn't that cute?" Deborah unusually smiled.
Linus looked over at Deborah and then down again at Gloria with a baffled glare on his face, as if to say he was lost on her
question.
"My sister holding a bible, of all things," Deborah discreetly motioned to Gloria's hand.
It took a few seconds, but the detective eventually gathered the gist of just what Deborah was referring to.
"Usually, she would be a chatterbox; our parents had to tell her to shut up at least a million times when she was little. Now...now
it's just haunting to see her so...quiet." Deborah frowned. "I honestly don't think she'll ever live this ordeal down."
Linus gazed upon Gloria's pathetic body; it was like studying an old woman who was waiting to die. He tried ever so gallantly to
read her thoughts. He wanted to take her by the hand and hold her in his arms.
Feeling as if she could sense him staring at her, Linus turned his head away from Gloria and focused upon the television to see
Mr. Whipple advertise Charmin toilet paper. Once the commercial vanished, the nightly newsbreak brusquely flashed across the
screen. The young male anchor reported on the weather forecast which called for more snow flurries for the evening. The current

score between The New York Knicks and The Philadelphia Seventy-Sixers game, and the day's news updates, which of course
consisted of the ongoing investigation involving the murders from two nights earlier.
Gloria laid in her bed, stroking her bible's leather bound cover up and down as her energetic photo shined on the screen. Leroy
Cummins' image appeared next, dressed to the nines in an all-black suit and smiling while standing beside a brand new white
1977 Chevrolet Chevette.
After Cummins' picture disappeared from sight, Isaac's happy, normal image came across the screen in a year old photo.
Without any warning whatsoever, Gloria's eyes began to water up. Pitiful whimpers started to escape from behind her quivering
lips.
"I can't tell you how tired I am already of them showing those little girls bodies being carried out of that house." Deborah griped
before spinning around to see Gloria writhing about in bed crying. "Gloria, honey, what's the matter?" She frantically asked while
trying to console her sister.
Linus stared down at the horrified young lady and then back up at the TV to see just what had spooked her from out of nowhere.
As Isaac's face exited the screen, he glanced back at Gloria, and then again at the television. The man had to take at least five
more twists and turns of the neck just to gather all of his thoughts at once.
"Can somebody help us in here?" Deborah said out loud, trying with all her might to restrain Gloria who was fighting to escape
the safe confines of her bed.
Linus, on the other hand, just slowly began to back away before three nurses rushed into the room and aided Deborah in her
mission to soothe Gloria.
The very instant the man found himself outside in the hallway he turned to his left and began down the floor until he came face to
face with a phone booth. The man stepped inside the booth and shut the glass door.
Gloria could still be heard wailing clear out into the hallway. Linus reached into his pocket to secure a quarter before inserting it
into the proper slot. His shifty contemplations were beginning to weigh him down to the point where his own hands couldn't even
hold on to the phone. Seven numbers were dialed. A four second ring sounded before a voice spoke up.
"This is Detective Fitzpatrick."
"This is Linus. Pop quiz."

"Shoot."
"Call it a hunch, but why would a person be more afraid of a so called fellow victim, than the person who victimized her?"
There was a long pause which was followed by a long sigh. "You got me, partner."
"It's got me, too. I'm down here at Saint Titus visiting the Cohen girl. She was watching TV when the news came on. She sees a
picture of Cummins, no response. Then, she sees a picture of the Mercer fellow, the kid goes insane. Whaddya make of that?"
"You don't think that Mercer could somehow be involved in all this, do you?"
"It's hard to tell." Linus exhaled. "I mean, the guy has yet to come downtown and give a statement. He meets up with some
mystery woman at a diner, hops a ride with a kidnapper, and then somehow makes it home and doesn't remember anything."
"Nothing about this is adding up."
"I tell you this, though, whatever is going on, it's traumatic enough to have a Jewish woman hold on to a Holy Bible like an Arab
to a barrel of oil."
"Something tells me that we'd better get our boy down here, post haste." Fitzpatrick exclaimed, sounding as though he was
smiling over the phone.
"Agreed, assuming he hasn't skipped town yet. I think I still have his fiancé's address. I'll head over and see if he's in."
"Oh, before you go, I forgot to tell you that I left my piece inside the car."
"Alan," Linus rolled his eyes while grinning, "why do you always forget to check in your weapons before your shift ends? The
captain will skin you alive."
"That takes forever." Fitzpatrick groaned. "Peggy would kill me first if I showed up late for dinner again."
Linus hopelessly exhaled and said, "I'll check it in after I'm through with Mercer. But you owe me one."
"Alright, buddy, thanks, and good luck."
"Yep," Linus replied before hanging up the phone.

For a moment or two Linus sat inside the booth motionless, he then reached into his back pocket and pulled out a Kodak picture
of his youngest daughter.
Her happy, carefree face caused Linus to crack an appealing, yet brief smile before it eventually turned into a hostile frown. At
the very end of his frown he saw only his child being violated by some pervert, and him, behind his desk, working as usual.
With a twinge of rage inside, Linus got up, slid open the doors and began marching down the hallway towards the elevator.
As he carried along, standing in front of the nurse's station was a blind white man and his Rottweiler dog that was attached to the
man's hand. Linus tried his best to ignore the animal; after all, it was only a simple seeing-eye dog. But no matter what, the
detective just couldn't seem to go past the beast without handing it a salty stare.
The dog returned the gesture, expect its gaze was more sorrowful, almost appearing as if it was sad to see the man leave.
Linus wanted to stop, but he kept on right up until he came face to face with the elevator. Once he stepped inside, the man
pressed the first floor button. The doors began to close, while both man and dog continued to gawk at each other until there was
nothing more to look upon.