The Demon in the Doll

Chapter 23

Suddenly, my smartphone began to ring. It was Missus Pattison. She desperately wanted to share some news with me.

She said, "Do you have access to the victim's head?"

I said, "Excuse me?"

"Her head. Can I see it?"

"Now why in the world would you want to do that?"

"You need to speak to my pastor. He believes that a demon has been let loose on this city."

"He ain't the only one."

"He thinks that he may be able to exorcise this demon if he can see the victim's remains."

I thought about it for a minute. Her plea sounded crazy, but why the fuck not? Dr. Peterman could float in the air. He could emit noxious odors more powerful than a skunk. He could beat up bikers. And he could decapitate lonely hookers with a swipe of his blade. Maybe he was a fucking demon. He certainly didn't seem human.

"What's your pastor's name?"

"Billy Trumpet."

My heart sank to the pit of my stomach. "Billy Trumpet? Are you out your mind?"

Trumpet wasn't his real name. It was actually Boudreaux. He was an evangelist who had been caught with his hands in the cookie jar on several occasions. All of his crimes involved money. He was the type who told people they'd get rich if they sent him cash. He had also committed adultery with his secretary. He was single at the time, but she was married.

Missus Pattison said, "Don't believe all the stories you hear about him."

"He's a bunko artist."

"Pastor Trumpet has powers. Real powers. He's been bitten by rattlesnakes on eight different occasions, and not once has he ever been to the emergency room."

"Never been to the emergency room? The guy is missing half his right arm."

"But that's due to diabetes, not poison. At least hear him out."

I sighed heavily. "Look. You don't have to keep selling me on the idea. What's the harm, right? I'm sure that Trudy won't mind. Do you know where the medical examiner's office is?"

"Yes, it's in the basement of Charity Hospital."

"OK. You and your boy meet me there in thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes? You're not giving me much time."

"That's the best I can do. Tonight is the first game of the season, and I don't want to miss it. Murder is murder, but football is football."

To make a long story even longer, my partner and I hopped into my Ford Focus and sped to the hospital. I found a legal parking spot right on the street close to the entrance. I couldn't believe my luck. Normally, the god of parking usually takes a giant shit on my head. But not this time. I felt like a champion.

I turned to my partner. "So what do you think?"

"Huh?"

"About this fucking parking space."

He shrugged. "It's all right, I guess."

"Only all right? Something is wrong with your head. I might sleep in my automobile for the next two months. I'd hate to lose a space like this."

Missus Pattison and Pastor Trumpet showed up ten minutes later. He drove a Cadillac SUV. It was big and blue and beautiful. Trumpet, on the other hand, was a mess. He was a bald fat fuck with white pants, a white sports jacket, and a milk-colored tie. However, both his shirt and shoes were jet black. He looked like a villain from a comic book.