A Case For Conners

Chapter 4

Chapter 3: Leading Sheep to Slaughter

Within the week, Michael was a name he had all but forgotten. He was now "Conners" day in and day out. It was after their first case that Bill had taken him out to eat, and he had gone back to his hole to sleep for the night. Bill was outraged when he saw where Conners had been sleeping and demanded that he stay in the flat above the office. Soon they had a new arrangement. Bill went to his house at night, and Conners slept upstairs. In the mornings, he prepared for the day's workload until Bill showed up.

The mattress he had bought was old and lumpy, but compared to the street he'd slept on before, it was like a dream come true. He wasn't much for food, so the fridge had no more than some water, orange juice and lunchmeats. Again, it wasn't much but he was grateful to have the essential items.

Once Bill had paid him for their first case, he bought a couple more clothes, mostly t-shirts and jeans. He even had enough to get another trench coat, still black, but in a slimmer style.

"You like that look a lot then, huh?" Bill had asked, smirking.

"Why mess with what's working for me?" Conners replied, laughing.

Conners quickly found the part of private investigation that he did not enjoy. Paperwork. It was never-ending. You had to sign and document your cases, prove you hadn't done anything against the law, prove you weren't in the way of the police and it was just all so tedious.

"It's not normally this much," Bill admitted. "It's always worse if the police are currently investigating the thing. If they've left it alone or think they already solved it, there's less of this crap, if any at all."

"Will we have to go to court too?"

"Hope not," said Bill. "I hate courtrooms. Can't stick my head up my own ass for that long. Usually they don't care to actually bring you in though. After all, if the cops admit you did the work, they don't look as good."

Conners nodded. Bill was a strange old man, but he was a good man. For what seemed like days, they finished red tape. When Bill checked the clock on the wall he realized that it was well past two.

"Let's get some lunch."

"Sounds good," said Conners. "I have some lovely turkey and cheese upstairs calling my name."

Bill laughed and said, "Something a bit better than that."

Bill took Conners out to an old-school diner. He hadn't had dined out before, at least not that he could remember, and wasn't sure he cared much for it.

Bill kept pretty quiet, eating and drinking his coffee.

It wasn't until Conners had finally finished his platter that Bill spoke.

"So tell me about yourself, properly."

"Are we on a date?" asked Conners, sarcastically.

"Very funny."

"Well we're out here eating, trying to learn more about one another. You're paying for my meal and dropping me off at home after this is over. Sorry if you're expecting something, but I don't put out."

"Don't be a smartass. We're forming a partnership of sorts. I know I can teach you to be pretty damn good at this, but I don't know you or what you're all about… yet."

Conners considered the question for a second, and decided he'd be open with Bill. After all, so far the old man hadn't rejected him.

"Worst proposal ever…" he said, deciding to get one more joke in. "Well, I woke up in a hospital about nine months ago, and couldn't remember a thing. I ran with a gang for while after that and ended up… making a mistake."

"Did you kill someone?" Bill asked, as if asking what day of week it was.

"By accident. It was a kid."

"That's why you came to me."

"Yeah…" Conners said softly. "That's why. I hate what happened."

"Well," said Bill sipping his coffee again. "I'd lie if I said it doesn't piss me off. But it's clear you resent it and know what you did wrong. Let me make something clear to you though. You ever hurt another kid again, and I'll kill you my damn self. We clear?"

For a moment, Conners felt a chill run up his spine. He had no doubt the old man meant every word.

"Crystal clear, sir," he said respectfully. "After that, I decided to try and stop crime as I could, or at least help. Police wouldn't ever take me seriously because I don't have legitimate papers. Not to mention that if they knew about my gang work, they'd lock me up for sure."

"Too right. Well you've been honest with me, and most people aren't. So, I'll do you the same. I'm an old man now. I was divorced decades ago. My wife of four months came out of her shell after the marriage and she had a large string of affairs. I tired all I could think of: s*x addict classes, cutting her off from it completely, prayer, moving to the country. After so many incidents I'd had enough. She lied to me about who and what she was and had cheated too much for me to raise kids with her."

"Do you still watch kids?" Conners asked.

"Noticed that, did you? Yeah, I like to watch over kids from the church sometimes. Lets me think back on what it would've been like to have one of my own. She still contacts me sometimes: Kelsey, my ex-wife. I think she got fascinated with me, despite her affairs. After that I threw myself into the church and into the force."

"You mentioned you were partners with that one detective. You were a police detective too, then?"

"Several years ago, but it got to be too much bullshit. Not that I'm completely out of the woods on that yet. I know most of the cops in central station still, so they let me in more than they should. It helps that I do half of their actual field work for them."

"So you don't usually get credit for your work?"

"Why would I want to? I'm a private detective. I don't want all the publicity. Better to be in the background. Besides, the clients know what happened and they spread it around. But as far as the general public is concerned, the good detectives are almost invisible."

"So, word of mouth is how you get most of your work?"

"Some newspaper ads, and some online reviews, listening in on a scanner never hurts, but for the most part it's people. Nothing spreads words quite like old people, Conners. Of course, you're always free to look up the most recent crimes and try and go after clients yourself, but unless you're big time or they're desperate, they usually ignore you. Best let the geezers talk to each other."

Conners smiled. Bill had a point in that. It seemed like the old man knew somebody in every profession ever. From war buddies to lab technicians, Bill knew who to call to get information when he wanted it.

It was in the middle of their conversation that Bill's phone went off.

"Hello," he said calmly, before talking to whoever was on the other line. "Yeah, sure we can. Yeah, figured I ought to catch him up a bit. How does the sermon tonight sound? All right, later."

As he snapped the phone shut, Conners raised an eyebrow.

"Trying to get me into a church?"

"Hardly. There's something going on with a cult group a little outside of the main city. I said we were interested in attending a service to see what's going on."

"No joke?" asked Conners, raising an eyebrow. "So, who is our client then?"

"We are," said Bill, seriously. "When something is wrong, don't wait to be asked to fix it, you just fix it."

Conners nodded and then spoke again, "So, what's going on with this cult that has you so ready to go?"

"It's something very odd. It might be straight up satanic. Well at least on some level it is."

"What, because it's a cult?"

"Not just that. It's a group that worships the ancient god, Moloch, the god of child sacrifice. They openly welcome outsiders, but the weird part is anyone that refuses to accept him dies at the end of the sermon."

"Poison or a hidden weapon?"

"No, not hidden at all. They get impaled down by a small statue the cultists have there."

"Death to the nonbelievers by statue? Interesting."

"My thoughts exactly. Let's see if you keep up."

"How will you know if I'm doing better than last time?" Conners asked.

"Simple, you'll live. You aren't working for me for the cushy office job."

That night, Bill drove them out of the city and into a bit of the countryside. Having been in the city for as long as he could recall, Conners was truly taken aback by the beauty of the country. There were no obnoxious lights, no cabs or pedestrians. This grass had grown into tall blades, and they were blowing gently in the breeze.

Soon the sun had set over the distant hills and the moon lit up the street. And the stars, oh the stars he could see. He hardly ever saw stars in the city, but out here… there were just so many stars, and each had their own planets and solar systems. It captivated him.

"Like looking at it all huh?" Bill asked, glancing at him.

"It's stunning."

"Yeah. I never get over it myself. It lets the mind just be stimulated without the stupidity of the world or people mucking things up."

"So many stars…" Conners said softly. "You believe in aliens?"

"Nope. Humans are the children of God. Aliens makes that into a question I'm not sure has an answer."

"Hard to believe that there's not life on any of those distant planets though."

"Maybe," said Bill. "I believe that everything everywhere that was made, was made to be perfect for those that God loves. So, is it really so hard to think that an all-powerful God could've made this complex universe just for us?"

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I figured you wouldn't," said Bill, but not angrily. "Unless you understand God's heart, you can't understand his works. So many people try to figure out God in reverse. They tackle him with logic first and if that works out, they try their heart. God is after your heart, not your mind. The mind is just a tool he gives you."

"Sounds crazy to me."

"Sounded crazy to me when I was your age. Once you know God, things make sense in a way they just couldn't before. It's like people are born with a brain disease or something. God helps remove that disease so we can think clearly for the first time."

Conners did not respond. This God, whoever he was, sounded odd. Why give people a sickness just to take it away later? If he was all-powerful, then why make it so difficult to find and understand him? Bill seemed to have answers that only he could understand, no matter how hard Conners tried to follow them.

For the rest of ride, Conners sat in silence. Bill finally parked the car in a clearing near a big hill.

"This is the place. You have your gun?"

"Yep," said Conners, feeling the .38 special on his hip.

"Good. I don't think you'll need it, but it's good to be prepared. Now, if things get nasty, don't be a hero, get the hell out."

"I understand."

Bill sat for a couple moments and prayed quietly. Afterwards, he got out of the car and motioned for Conners to follow him. They walked to the hill which had a small hole near it's base lit just by a single torch. Bill began descending not showing and inch of fear and Conners followed as best he could. Eventually, they reached what must be the center hold of the mass and Conners' mind went haywire. The focus of the room was a large altar that was constantly hissing.

All around the room were people in hooded robes and cloaks. He couldn't make out any faces, but most of the group wore fine clothes and shoes. On the back wall, there was a strange painting. It was a golden triangle and in the middle was an eye. Conners wasn't sure why, but just looking at the eye made him uncomfortable.

"The Eye of Moloch," said Bill softly. "Also called the Eye of Providence by Freemasons. It represents a demonic eye piercing the veil into our world. Be careful. Don't talk to anyone. Don't drink anything or accept anything you are offered, and please don't go poking around alone."

Conners nodded. He did not want to be here. The entire place smelled like death, as if a presence hung over the place. Despite fire that lined the room, the whole room was ice cold.

"Hello outsiders," said the man at the entrance, embracing Conners and Bill briefly. "We are pleased to receive you. I am Yusif, the instrument of the gods."

"Get your hands off of me," said Bill coldly.

Yusif immediately let go of them as though touching Bill had burned him. The mood of the room changed. No one said anything, but Yusif and many others in the room stiffened.

"How do you kill them?" Bill asked.

"Sorry?"

"The people who die in your so-called sermons. How do they die?"

"They are found unworthy by Moloch," said Yusif matter-of-factly.

"And then his instrument kills them."

"Why not sit down, detective? The show is about to start and you can witness Moloch for yourself."

Bill walked inside muttering under his breath, "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil for you are with me."

"We should leave," Conners whispered.

"We have to learn how he does it. For now play the game. God will watch over us."

Conners didn't know as much about God as Bill did, but clearly the old man thought God protected them here. Conners quietly hoped he was right. As they reached a pew, Yusif walked to the center of the room and spoke loudly enough for all to hear.

"Everyone be seated. We have a group of visitors with us tonight. Those who have rejected the teachings of Moloch!"

He gestured wildly and the altar shook angrily.

"Conners!" Bill hissed angrily. "Take off your coat and get away from it!"

"My coat?"

"Now!"

Conners took off his coat and flung it away just as Bill did the same thing. No sooner where the coats airborne than two small statues with spike flung themselves at the clothing, ripping the fabric.

"Freeze asshole!" yelled Bill firing several shots in the air.

Conners pulled out his own pistol and aimed steadily at Yusif. He controlled his breathing as Bill has taught him. Suddenly he froze.

In front of him was not Yusif, the mysterious hooded murderer. It was a young kid with blonde hair, and a hole in the middle of his forehead.

It was the kid he had shot…

Despite his best efforts, the gun shook and dropped from his hands. Then, Yusif's voice spoke in his ears.

"Your boss is mistaken," it said softly. "You are the murderer. My master kills those who would harm us. You killed an innocent, because you wanted to become a real drug dealer."

"It was a mistake," Conners whispered.

"Mistake? Well I'm sure that's comfort to his family. You killed a boy, took life from him. You are the monster."

"I am not! I won't be one!"

"It's too late. You are already one. You should've killed yourself. How can you possibly pay for the crimes you committed? You think working under this man undoes what you did? You demon!"

"Stop… please," Conners pleaded.

"Stop? That's all you can say? That boy sure wanted you to stop, but did you? Why not take your own life, Michael? You found it so easy the first time. After all, that was your accident."

"What?"

"They didn't tell you? Imagine that. You tried to kill yourself because you r***d a young girl before."

"You liar!'

"How could I be lying?" the soft voice whispered. "Let me show you."

Conners saw the world shifting before him and he saw a figure in the distance. A young blonde woman was running away from him. His body moved of its own accord. Against his will, he chased after her, and tackled her to the ground.

Everything in him was screaming, fighting to stop this, to undo it, but it continued. He could not even scream. Slowly, he witnessed his r**e of the young woman, as she cried and begged him to stop.

Tears came to his eyes and he dropped to his knees. Suddenly something glistened in front of him: the gun!

"You r***d a girl and jumped off a roof, trying to die. Merely half a year later, you kill a child. You are the monster, the demon. Wouldn't it be kinder to just end it now, before you hurt more people?"

"Yes," Conners whispered softly. "It would be kinder to them."

"Take the gun and end this!"

Conners lifted his gun to his temple and c****d the hammer. It would've been nicer right? After all, he'd be killing a monster.

Maybe, he thought. Just maybe this can undo some of my evil.

"STOP!" Bill's voice rang out and Conners heard two shots ring out… then blackness engulfed his world.

He awoke in a hospital. The walls and ceiling slowly came into focus. He lay in the bed for a long while, unable to grasp what was going on in his head. Conners just lay there, quietly willing death to come.

"I know you're awake," said Bill softly. "You stopped shaking and talking about a minute ago.

"What happened?"

"Yusif was a full-blown nut job, and likely possessed. He was placing small magnetic rods on people's backs that he said were 'unworthy' and would fling spiked statues at them. They had magnets inside powerful enough to aim right for the heart, killing the 'unworthy.' I shot him in the leg, and called the ambulance for him. Got you and myself out of there and into here. I had to knock you out first, sorry about that."

"No," said Conners softly. "I mean what happened to me?"

Bill was silent for a short time, and then said slowly, "You went under a demonic attack. I feared something like this would happen. That place was heavy with demonic presence; even you could probably feel it. You felt cold, right? I just figured it would've attacked me and not you. You froze up, didn't move for a long time and then tried to shoot yourself. That's why I had to knock you out."

"I saw… so many things."

"Whatever you saw wasn't real. You can't trust anything that you saw, heard, or touched in that state."

"But it all seemed so real, it made sense."

"That's the genius in demons," said Bill. "They attack in a way that you can't deny. They hunt for what will hurt you most and then attack it like rabid dogs. I was ready, and you weren't. I never should've brought you there. I'm sorry."

Conners couldn't speak for a long time, but finally said. "I guess that's a part of all the God stuff huh?"

"Yeah," said Bill. "Thankfully he had put me there with you, or you'd be dead by now."

"But you were the one that decided to be there…"

"God puts people exactly where they need to be. Sometimes we listen, and things work out well enough, sometimes we don't and we get burned. Christian journeys are hard and painful. You mess up and get burned sometimes. The way it works is like this: things happen just like they need to. You may not want to go through it all, may not like it, but it happens just like it needs to in order to get you where you need to be, you understand?"

"I don't know…"

"Well, I guess that's why I'm here isn't it?"

Conners nodded, and then asked, "How did you know that he put the magnets on our coats?"

"Simple, I knew something was attracting the statues and the only place he'd touched us was our jackets. It made a lot of sense, really."

"Hate to imagine the red tape there is going to be on this one…"

"Perks of the industrious job of the bottom feeders, Conners."