Fade To Black

by Justin Kimberlin

The city was like a concrete jungle that teamed with life underneath the watchful eye of the sun. The sun gleamed from the giant white buildings and reflected upon there greatness by many magnitudes. Life teamed below the giant yellow sphere. The mystical aura around the Big Easy permeated all around it. Many came to this great place, especially during the festival of Mardi Gras or Fat Tuesday. It was here among those who inhabited the French Quarter that Red felt the most at home. The private investigator was never at a loss for strange duties place.

The twenties had been good to the Red Murray so far. He rebuilt his life after the war. He was an ominous figure with an aura of mystery about him. Many who knew him had heard him called Massacre Red and knew of his days as a Legionnaire. Red was so impatient that he would not wait for the Americans to join the war. He enlisted in the French Foreign Legion in 1914 for the duration of the war. The mystique of the Legion surrounded him. He had seen many of his fellow Americans die in the war including the poet Alan Seeger. He failed to see the complexities of the war. His only interest was to fight. France was the only nation to give him that opportunity. Luckily for him when the American did join the war it was on the side of the French, for he might have been branded a traitor otherwise.

A young blonde had entered his office building and was eagerly waiting to see him. Her hair was short, bobbed to be exact and her skin fair. The secretary sent her in to speak with Red. Red greeted her with the usual “what can I do for you miss?” She gazed into Red’s eyes for a brief moment and answered. “My brother has disappeared under most unusual circumstances and I was told by an acquaintance that Massacre Red could do the job. The name frightened me a bit. It sounded like just the sort of person for the job. These are rather unsavory characters that my brother has fallen in with.” Red broke in, “Why didn’t you go to the police, Miss...” “Winters, Celia Winters. I wouldn’t trust the New Orleans police with this. They are not exactly the most trustworthy lot themselves. I have money to pay, but I will not pay them when they should be doing it for free”

“I see. Tell me about your brother.”

“His name is Charles Winters. He fell in with Eric Dexter and his group of bootleggers. He needed the money desperately. He gave me quite a bit to store away for him before he disappeared. I must find him.” She went on for quite a while after that. He was very taken with her. Something about her captivated him. He couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was. She was quite beautiful, but beauty never motivated him much. She held his attention like an enchantress. Celia was out of place here as much as anyone could be. Perhaps the mystery of what made her so special would be harder to solve than her brother’s disappearance.

No, he would be better to focus on the task at hand. Red scouted the last known location of Charles, but there was not a single clue as to his whereabouts. He decided it was best to search for those last seen with him and began a search for Dexter. Eric Dexter was a bootlegger and known in the New Orleans underground. The best person to ask was Vincent Lucent, a man no one paid much attention to. He blended so well into the background that most did not even notice that he was present. He was very cognizant of all around him. Vincent had seen Dexter recently and suspected that he was still in the city. Word was around that Dexter was in with a very bad sort–a group much more organized than his motley group. Dexter hadn’t been seen in a couple of days but he did not look well when he was last seen.

Red had very little to go on but he was able to find out where one of Dexter’s associates was staying. He was staying in a small motel just on the outskirts of the city. Dan Miller was a rather short man. He was only about 5ft tall and had the disposition of a trapped jaguar. Miller answered the door to the room. He had a gun pointed directly at Red’s chest. “Who are you and what do you want?” Miller sniped. “I’m Red Murray. I’ve been hired to find Charles Winters. Your name came up as someone who might know where he is.”

“What do I care about this Winters guy? I’ve never heard of him. I wouldn’t know anything about his kidnaping.”

“I didn’t say anything about kidnaping. You must know something about this.”

Red brandished his own handgun and Miller took off before Red could aim it at him. Red took chase as Miller fled toward the woods. Miller was running very fast but Red was gaining on him. Miller turned around and began firing at Red. Red immediately ducked for cover just as a bullet grazed by his arm. As Red looked up, Miller was just entering the thick woodlands. He chased him as fast as he could through the clearing. While running frantically, Miller failed to notice a small branch extruding from the ground. He tripped over this branch and landed face down in the soil. Red finally caught up to the man but the fall had knocked him unconscious. Red dragged the man through the foliage back to the motel room. He had done this before when in the Legion and was quite adept at carrying a man for a distance. He was furious at Miller for passing out on him. He set him down on the floor of the room and waited in a chair for Miller to come to.

Miller began to awake after a time. The dolor he felt for putting himself in this situation was rather obvious. He should have just fabricated a story instead of running. And why, why couldn’t he have just shot Red. This is what happens when you try not to draw attention to yourself. Red scornfully asked Miller, “I will ask again what do you know about all of this?”

“You should just leave all of this alone. You don’t want any part of this mess.”

“I’m being paid very well to be a part of this.”

“Then you should give whoever it is their money back.”

“ I promised her I would find him.”

“A dame, eh? You don’t want no part of that my friend. Dames ain’t nothing but trouble. Give her back her money and stay out of this. There are worse people involved than me, scarey people.”

“I know all about Dexter and his involvement.”

“You do, do ya? Well-let me tell you there’s worse than the likes of Dexter in this. I’m hiding from them. I don’t want any part of what they got in mind for me.”

“Don’t forget Miller, I am holing a gun here.”

“All right, I’ll tell ya what ya wanna know, but it will take more ‘an just not shooting me. I need to get out of here. If you can find me, God knows they can.”

“I’ll get you out of here. Now tell me what you know.”

“They are a bad sort. They only deal with us at night. We don’t know the head guy’s name. He goes by the name Eastman, but he ain’t like anyone with that sort of name I’ve ever seen. He looks like one of them people the Germans made fight for ‘em during the war.”

“From Eastern Europe?”

“Yeah like one of them places that they took away from them Astians, Austrians, whatever they were. He took Winters as payment when Dexter couldn’t give ‘im some money he said he was owed. Then he told Dexter that they would be gettin’ us next. I don’t know much about them dealings, but I figured that Dexter looked pretty scared and I better get out of there myself. I want you to get me as far as Morgan City. After that I’ll tell you where to find Dexter. Maybe he knows where to find Eastman.”

Red drove Miller to his place in Morgan City. According to Miller, he knew people that could get him out, maybe to Chicago, New York, Los Angeles, or someplace. Once they had reached their destination, Miller handed Red a small sheet of paper with a name and address on it. It read:

Eric Dexter

Rouge Morgaine Hotel

3432 La Grange Ave.

Room number ?

As incomplete as it was, it was still the most information he had uncovered thus far. Something about this bothered him, and as he looked though his rear view mirror Miller was no longer there. He wondered if he should follow the address that Miller gave him. He decided to follow up on this.

Once he found the hotel he went into the front. Then he asked the manager about Dexter telling him that he was Dan Miller. The manager replied that he had never heard of Dan Miller, but as Red slipped him a twenty-dollar bill his memory began to improve. Red made his way up to room 22 where Dexter was supposed to be. He knocked on the door and someone asked who was there. Red replied that it was the hotel manager with an urgent message from Morgan City. Dexter promptly opened the door only to see Red force his way in, gun in hand.

“I don’t feel like spending all day here. I want to know where Charles Winters is.”

“And who are you? Are you really sure you want to know?”’

“I’m Red Murray. I’ve been hired to find him.”

“No doubt by that sister of his. She’s something isn’t she. I’m not so sure that you want to find him. He’s in New Orleans. Eastman has him. Have you heard of Eastman?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve no doubt spoken to Miller. That must be where you got my address.”

Red became tired of this verbal exchange and demanded to know where Eastman was. “I rather doubt that you would enjoy meeting Eastman,” Dexter snapped back. “What’s in it for me if I tell you?” Red quipped back, “Isn’t the threat of killing you enough?” To this Dexter said, “Eastman has already threatened to kill me. You see, I owe him a substantial amount of money. If you want to find him, tell him that I’ve sent you to pay. If you pay him, you will get Winters back and I will not owe him anymore. If you kill him and take Winters back then our problems will still be solved. We will both be winners no matter what. I owe him one thousand dollars.”

“One thousand dollars!” Red shouted. “How the Hell do you owe him that much?”

“Let’s just say that I owe it and leave it at that.”

Red was again in a quandary as to what to do about this. Dexter had given him the name of the contact. Madam Fortuna was not the reputable sort. She was a fortune teller steeped in knowledge of Voodoo. It seemed that everyone was giving out information much too easily. He should see Celia. Celia had occupied his thoughts on the drive back. He could not stop thinking of her.

He drove to the address that Celia had given him at the office. He had memorized it so that it couldn’t be traced back to her if the investigation went wrong. He never went looking for death, but it seemed to find him. Throughout the duration of the Great War he had served in Legion. Red had been shot 17 times and stabbed, bayoneted, or cut more times than he could count. His fellow Legionnaires thought he could not be killed.

Celia answered that door, “Mr. Murray, how good to see you.” Red explained all that had happened since he last saw her. She was utterly astonished at the unfolding of events. It seemed so simple. She would pay them off. He told her the amount and she was frantic. How could she pay for that? Then she remembered something that he had told her about a key. The key opened some sort of box that she was to open if she ever needed money. She had enough already to pay the private detective and didn’t worry about it before. Something about the whole thing scared her. Red decided to come with her. He had a bad feeling about this.

She looked at him inquisitively. I must know before we go any further why they call you Massacre Red. He stared at her for a second and then answered. “It was during the Great War. I had gotten tired of waiting for America to join the war. I decided that the French Foreign Legion was my only choice to fight. There were other Americans who fought with me. Most of us were in Battalion C. After surviving long enough I was given a squad to lead. One day we were attacked by the Germans and I left out of the trench firing on them. I through a Grenade toward them and ducked. After a couple of seconds the grenade exploded and all became quite. I got up and looked around. All the firing had stopped. The Germans were all dead. My comrades were back quite a ways holding there guns. Apparently, I had inspired them to get out of the trenches and fire. Ten of them lay dead on the ground, but I was surrounded by dead Germans on all sides. They estimated that I had killed around 20 or 30 myself and began calling me Massacre Red.” Celia looked surprised. “That’s quite a story Red.”

The box was in an abandoned building on the other side of town. Once they had found the building, they carefully entered it. It was devoid of light. Red had thoughtfully brought a torch fearing that a lighter wouldn’t be enough. The void darkness swarmed around them as cold air blew by in an ominous wind coming from the outside. The dark building reminded him of his time on the front during the war. Those abandoned stables just outside the ruined villages were where he had to gather the straw used for the linings in the bottom of the trenches. He met more than he bargained for on that trip. That was when he met them. Suddenly he heard a shattering noise. It was like glass breaking. He turned quickly but could not see much. He started forward and heard footsteps. Red grabbed hold of Celia’s hand and led here down a stairwell. At the bottom they passed through an entrance and Red quickly shut he door behind them.

Red glanced quickly around the room and see several large rectangular wooden boxes, each about 5 to 7 feet long. Celia startled him, “I think I’ve found it.” As he looked down he saw her insert the key into a small box. Turning the key, they heard an instant click. As she lifted the boxtop they could see a slight glimmer as if some precious metal or stone were shining back at them. Inside the box, several bars of gold and a few diamonds shone back at the fluttering torchlight. “But where, how...” Celia seemed to ask as Red grabbed her arm. “Hold the torch. I’ll carry the box,” Red said.

As Red slowly opened the door, it creaked loudly making a sound like some creature being tortured in a dungeon. They staggered carefully up the stairs looking for any unwanted visitors that must be present. Seeing that the cold, dark, cavernous room was devoid of life, they fled through the front entrance from whence they came.

Red quickly placed the box in the back of the vehicle and put out the torch. They took off hurriedly. Red inquired, “Do you have any idea were he could have gotten a hold of gold and diamonds worth that much?” Celia seemed to be at a loss for words. She had grabbed a piece of paper from the box just after Red put it in the vehicle. She took a look at it now and read the paper to Red. “Celia, bring this to Steve Zimms at 1400 La Rue Street - room 105. He will know what to do with it.”

They entered the office building and headed for room 105. Red knocked on the door. A blonde man with glasses answered. He looked like a banker. “Yes,” he said. Celia answered, “I’m Celia Winters.” The banker answered, “Come in. I’ve been expecting you, Miss Winters. Charles told me to expect you if I did not hear from him for some time.” “What,” Celia questioned, “am I to do with this.”

“Who may I ask is your friend Miss Winters?”

“My name is Red Murray and I believe we are here for you to answer her question.”

“Very well then. Mr. Murray. Miss Winters. What you hold in your hand is gold and diamonds taken from South Africa during the Boer War. Mr. Winters was in the process of finding a buyer for it. His commission and mine on the sale were to be substantial. However with the change in plans I will have to take care of this myself. Here is your brother’s share: $2500.”

Celia took the money and the exited the building. Red spoke, “Don’t you think this all seems strange to you, Celia? I’ve worked a lot of cases and have never seen anything like this. Everyone just seems to eager to work with us.” With that she kissed him. Afterward she looked at him and stated, “We had better get to this Madam Fortuna soon.”

Red and Celia arrived at Fortuna’s place. It was dank and dreary, a rather dilapidated building place with red and black decorations strung all about it. As they entered through the creaky door they felt a chilling draft. Madam Fortuna had a look of insanity about her. The Haitian Voodoo Queen had large white eyes that seemed to pierce though the sanctity of the soul. She spoke in rather rough English, “Is there something that I can do to help you? Would you like to know your future? Madam Fortuna can see all.” Red looked at her square in the eyes and did not flutter for a second. He had a feeling that she could sense fear. “We need to talk about Charles Winters.”

“Oh Mr. Winters. Yes. Do you have the money for the exchange? $1000"

“Yes. Now how does this work?”

“Very simple. You meet Eastman at the address on this paper at 11PM tomorrow. Are you sure you don’t want to know your future?”

“I don’t have time.”

Red and Celia did not here Fortuna’s last words after they shut the door, “No, Mr. Murray, you don’t have time. Not much.” Red and Celia began the drive back to Celia’s place. Just then Red noticed a black car behind him. He turned a sharp left and the car followed him. He increased his speed as much as he could. He then took a sharp right and the car followed him yet again. “We’re being followed,” Red yelled to Celia. Red sped the car up again and took a sharp left yet again only this time he reversed his direction and began driving backwards until he had passed the street he was just on. Switch the car to forward he made a quick left so that he was now traveling the opposite direction that his pursuer was. As he passed he pursuer, the driver and passenger in that vehicle ducked down to avoid being seen. It was then that Red headed the vehicle toward the outskirts of the city.

“It isn’t safe for us here. This must involve more than just your brother and some bootleggers. This Eastman must be behind this. Don’t worry Celia, I’ll make sure that nothing happens to you.” They pulled up to an old inn. Red came back to the vehicle after checking in. “I told them we were married. Mr. And Mrs. Charles. That may help avoid suspicion. I will sleep on the floor or a chair in the room. I’ve slept on worse.”

In the room Red kept Celia busy with stories about his capers as a private investigator. He had so many strange stories, but he said this had to be the strangest. She asked him about his time in the Legion, but Red didn’t like to speak of it too much. He gave the impression that something had happened besides the war that wounded him. Perhaps it was a girl. But she sensed something else. After trying to get the information out of him unsuccessfully, she told him that she was tired and would be going to bed now. To his surprise, she began to undress right in front of him. I hope you don’t mind Red, but I don’t like to sleep with clothes on. Her skin was beautifully white, almost pale. He stared at her for a moment and was awoken by her chastising voice. “You know it’s not polite to stare, Red.” It was then that he noticed a curious thing. A small bandage was taped to her inner right thigh. Before he could get a good look at it, she slipped underneath the covers. “Are you sure you want to sleep on that chair. I promise I won’t bite.”

Red declined stated that he tries never to mix business with pleasure. It was all he could do to resister her. Something just told him not to, though he couldn’t place what it could be. He stayed up for a while just watching her sleep thinking about what a beautiful creature she was. Perhaps when this was all over...

Red awoke in the morning to the songs of the birds outside. He glanced over at the bad and saw that it was empty. He was becoming nervous now. Just then he heard the door open and saw Celia enter. She had now changed back into her clothing. She was wearing the beautiful red outfit that she was wearing earlier. They had not had the time to go back or find a change of clothes. “I needed some air,” Celia answered his unuttered question. “I have some information to find out in the city. You should be safe her Celia. I can try to pick up some new clothes for you if you would like.” “No need,” Celia answered, “I will be fine like this.”

Red drove back to New Orleans. He had to find Lucent. After some time looking around the city, he went into a bar called the Black Cherry. Lucent was there sitting on a stool. Red went over to him and motioned toward an empty table. “I’ll be very grateful if I could find out anything about a man named Eastman,” Red stated as he pulled out some money and handed it to Lucent under the table. “Now you know I don’t know much about Eastman, but I do know something. He is from Europe. I don’t know where, but he is a very bad man. One of his employees crossed him once. He threatened to go to the police about some ‘a his business dealings. I seen that man the next day hanging upside down tied to the bottom of some railing. It looked like the blood was drained from his body. Not a man you want to cross. But then I wouldn’t want to cross you either, Massacre. I heard stories about you when you was a Legionnaire. Maybe that Eastman is one ‘a them Germans you fought. Listen, there is supposed to be a police record on the guy. Something they was investigating a while back.”

Red felt he had no alternative but to find out more about Eastman. He had to know who he was dealing with. Was he one of those German? Maybe not. Red entered the police office. The man behind the desk looked at him suspiciously. “What ya doin’ here now, Murray. Ya know ya ain’t ta be ‘ere,” the man told Red in a heavy Irish accent.

“Come on now O’hara. You know what I’m doing here. I need access to records. You owe me.”

“Damn you now, Red. You’ve got to find some other way to call in these favors.”

“I just need access to some files on a guy named Eastman.”

“Eastman, eh. Ya know we counna get no witnesses again that man. Not none alive anyhow.”

O’HARA led him into the records room and pulled out the record on Eastman. Nothing much was there except that he was an immigrant from Russia and was wanted for question in connection with at least half a dozen murders. No witnesses had ever come forward. One potential witness named Thatherton was found hanging upside down from a ledge. He was tied to a post by his feet and found drained of blood. Not much more was found. No one even knew his real name.

Red headed back to get Celia. It was close to 5 O’clock by this time and he was bringing dinner. He had left her some food for lunch earlier. When Red arrived Celia said that she wasn’t hungry. She had eaten plenty for lunch she told him. He told her about his uneventful day. “I hope that tonight will go all right,” Celia worried. Red reassured her, “I’ll make sure that everything goes smoothly. We will get your brother back.” Celia looked up, “But what about you, will you come back all right?” Red again reassured her, “Nothing will go wrong.”

Red got into his vehicle to head for the location Fortuna had given him. He arrived there 15 minutes ahead of schedule. He waited about 5 minutes to go in. It would not do to be too late or too early when dealing with these sorts. He entered the building. He went up the stairs and entered the designated room. These abandoned buildings were getting to be too much, but at least this one had electricity. He closed the door behind him with his gun in hand. “Hello, Mr. Murray,” A voice echoed from across the room. Just then the door behind him opened. “Ah hello, Miss Winters,” the voice said. “Please lock the bolt behind you. Miss Winters here has a lot at stake in these dealings, Mr. Murray. Although I am sure you told her not to come.” Unbeknownst to Red, Celia had called for a taxi to take her into the city just after he left. “I’m sorry Red. I just had to come.” Red was now worried. This added an uncertainty to the mix.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the stranger said as he stepped forward from the shadows. “I am the Mr. Eastman you have been looking for, although you Mr. Murray may know me by another name.” Red’s mouth dropped open and he uttered one word in total shock, “Mordecai!”

“Ah yes I was afraid you might not remember me. Why don’t you tell Miss Winters who I am. Or should I? Perhaps I should start. You see, Red here met me in France at a deserted stable outside of a ruined French village. It was his job to gather the straw that...”

“That we used to line the floors of the trenches. I discovered that there were many dead cows and people around that appeared to be drained of blood. I caught on of them in the act. I was mortified. We followed him back to the village where they were keeping the victims. They were about 20 of the creatures. They were draining the blood from the victims with their teeth. I could only conclude that they must have had some sort of disease that made them think they were vampires. We attacked them and stabbed them with out bayonets through the heart. It was the only thing that seemed to kill them. That was when I met Mordecai. We had killed most of them when their leader returned. He told me all about them and we fought. I was just about to stab him with the bayonet when I heard one of my comrades scream. I raced over to help him but it was too late. I stabbed the one who killed him. Just then my comrade jumped up and tried to attack me. I stabbed him in the heart with my bayonet after wresting him to the ground. That was when I realized that it must be a virus that spreads through bite. I have always wondered what became of Mordecai.”

“I have been around. Now, do you have the money?”

Red stopped for a moment, “How do I know he is still alive?”

“Good Question. Charles, will you step forward.”

Out of the darkness came the figure of Charles Winters. Celia looked happy to see him. Just as Red looked away from Mordecai’s sardonic countenance, he noticed Winters opening his mouth. There were two large fangs protruding from his upper mouth. Red grabbed Celia’s arm and shouted, “We have to go. He’s turned Charles into one of them.” Red flung open the lock and fled with her down the stairs. “Why didn’t you shoot Eastman,” she yelled to Red. Red responded, “It would do no good. Only something through the heart or cutting of his head can kill them. I saw it in France. Our guns did nothing.”

Mordecai and Winters were close behind them. They were steadily gaining until Red realized that they were backed into a corner. Red remembered that he had seen a small piece of metal glimmering nearby. It was a foot long metal shank. He run toward Mordecai and lunged at him with all his might. Mordecai narrowly avoided the shank being plunged through his heart. A Struggle ensued. Winter ran towards them, but Red extended the shank just in time for Winters to fall on top of it. Winters and the shank slipped away at an angle and Winters fell toward the wall. Red broke free from Mordecai just long enough to impale Winters with the shank. Celia ran as Mordecai lunged for Red. Red ran straight for his vehicle and Mordecai followed right behind him. Red reached inside the vehicle and pulled out an eight-inch knight. He lunged at Mordecai and drove the knife deep into his heart. Mordecai fell to his death.

As Mordecai lay dying Celia rushed up to Red. “We must get out of here. There may be more of them,” Red screamed to her. When she got to him she made a motion as if to kiss him. Red noticed her opening her mouth and stepped back. There he could see the fangs protruding from her mouth. He quickly grabbed the knife from Mordecai’s body and plunged it into her heart. He looked at her and she uttered only a few words, “I was going to make you live forever. Forever... with ... me.” She fell to the ground and was lost to him forever. Now he knew. They had come here now too. Her death wounded him greatly. He walked down the street alone as he had come to the city. He was alone as had been many times before.

The End