Murder On The Waterway: The Case Of The Kanaima Demon

Chapter Eight

"How many is that so far?" Michael asked, exhaustion coloring his voice.

"This pile? 37," I responded, fixating on the posters strewn across the first two crime scenes. The 'Ladies' Night' collection was a grim reminder of the horror we were facing.

The drive back from Mr. Kumar's house left us contemplating the grim possibility that the killer might target victims attending these events. If we could disrupt the pattern, we might gain some control over the situation. But we didn't know how many posters were in circulation or if this tactic would work. The burden of reacting rather than taking proactive steps weighed heavily on my shoulders. We were entangled in a web of supernatural mysteries and human horrors.

"Now we have a missing relic linked to a Kanima demon. There's no sensible explanation I could give the people working hard around me. We are dealing with another instance of the supernatural," I added, my frustration palpable.

"For that, we must uncover who financed the expedition and was so desperate for that item that they would transfer two million pounds beforehand—a substantial sum, especially in the current financial climate. The alarm bells are screaming at me," Michael said, his voice tinged with concern. The supernatural and the criminal had entwined in a dark dance, and we struggled to keep up.

"Well, let's turn your frown upside down. I've extracted this list from Mr. Kumar, who is holed up in an interview room for safety. As per DC Cartwright. A friend who's heading up the stolen antiquities angle. Among the other charges that could be brought, if he co-operates, the sword comes down on the person who stole it and the company who paid for it," Michael said, handing me an extensive list of over two hundred items, each categorized as priceless. The mention of the two million pounds in connection with the relic raised more questions than answers. The puzzle was far from complete.

"Two things: any news on ADI Locke? And can we find out who heads up the development liaising with Mr. Kumar?" I inquired, my mind racing to connect the dots in this intricate web of intrigue.

"There's smoke coming out of the ears, matey. It may be a good or bad thing. Our leader is still missing, and because we didn't end up going to his house. I've asked for a car to go there. Road trip?" Michael replied, offering a glimmer of hope amid uncertainty.

"Exactly what I was thinking," I agreed, ready to follow any lead, no matter how faint.

"That's good then; I haven't made these for nothing." Michael produced two takeaway cups of coffee.

"Made?" I raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"Okay, loose term. Bought. I can't stand the cheap stuff here any more than you. Besides, I've got to keep you firing on all furry cylinders," Michael said with a chuckle, his camaraderie growing on me. It was a rare moment of fun in our grim reality.

"Just the people I need to see," ADI Locke breezed through the door, his presence commanding attention.

"Sir," I greeted him respectfully.

"No disrespect, Guv. Where the hell have you been? We've been trying to reach you," Michael inquired, concern etched on his face.

"Nice to know you care, Michael. But I've been busy saving you boys some leg work. I went dark for some quiet while I notified the partners of the first two murders and took statements. I heard you call for the 3rd body; I wanted to see how you guys manage without a shadow—showing trust. I phoned the control room. Don't fret," Locke explained, his tone a blend of authority and reassurance.

I needed to gauge whether Locke's intentions were genuine or if he was still assessing us. The cloud of suspicion loomed over our interactions, and trust was a fragile commodity.