Waking Nightmares(Lined Bullets)- A GMD Fiction

Chapter 4: A New Lead

Able told me all that he could of what had happened before he reached my doorstep. Dawson had given him some medicine for his sickness.
As we all sat near the fire, I was contemplating his words. His parents (my childhoods friends), had just taken him to another clinic due to his worsening condition. They walked down an alley to reach there home faster. As they walked, a large dark figure confronted them. The figure, never revealing his face, asked that Able come with him. They repeatedly said no as he advanced on them. When they would not change their answer, the figure brought out a pistol and fired, but Able couldn't see where they were hit. The figure left without a word. I suppose it was so that Able could send a message to other parents in Mouse London.
"How peculiar," Dawson stated. "And you are sure you did not see where they were shot?"
"No sir," Able replied politely. "Wait... I do actually, but their vital organs were never hit. My mother was hit in the middle of her right thigh and my father was hit in the top of his left shoulder."
"You're right," I said. "Those are definitely not fatal. Though they could have bled out... But then why not shoot them where it would kill them instantly?
It was then I realized Able's eyes were on me and his ears were listening to my mumblings. He didn't need to be hearing me discuss his parents' deaths and I needed to head to the crime scene.
"Dawson?"
"Yes, Basil?"
"I need you to take care of Able for a while. I'm going to go to the crime scene to see if I can find any other pieces of evidence. It's possible that the killer may very well be the kidnapper of the other children."
"No, I want to stay with you, Basil," Able pleaded.
"Able, I'm going to the exact place where your parents are still lying there dead," I said. Able 's ears flattened to his head, and his eyes showed the hurt my words had caused. "I'm sorry... Able, believe me when I say that there is nothing more terrible and more scarring than looking at your dead parents."
"You're an orphan too?"
I nodded and looked to the ground. It had been a while since I had thought my deceased parents. I was ten years of age when I had found them outside in the snow. They had been attacked by a young criminal who had alliances with a cat or two. I have never been able to forget that image, but I will always make the effort to remember Ms. Judson's kindness when she later took me in after an incident with my brother.
Suddenly, his little arms wrapped around me. I embraced him back and then I decided it would be best to go to the scene. I put on my inverness coat and deer stalker hat, grabbed Toby, and left for the crime scene.
*****
When I reached the alley, it was solemn and quiet. It was not very hard to find the bodies. They were right where they were left. I walked around them until I stopped at approximately the spot where the shooter stood. Then, I looked at their wounds. Able was right about the placement of the bullets. At first, I had assumed that the figure had poor aim, but from what I gathered, the bullets hit their intended target.
"This makes no sense," I said aloud. Why would someone purposefully shoot where it wouldn't be fatal?
I left their bodies and began looking for the casings. Both had gone through and through. Now the question was, what was on or in these bullets that would make them lethal without hitting any vitals. I put them in my pocket then walked to Scotland Yard. I told them of the bodies and the evidence that I would be observing.
My next stop was to a funeral home in order to set up for Able's parents to have a proper burial. They were to be buried in two days after their autopsies have been performed. The doctor gave me his word that if anything showed up out of the ordinary, then he would send word of it immediately.
When I reached Baker Street, I was terribly exhausted and almost seemed a bit under the weather, but I blamed that on my recent lack of sleep. As I walked into my home, I found Able curled up tightly in my chair in several layers of blankets and Dawson in his own. I gently shook the old fellow awake. He looked at me with a look that asked why he had to be awoken. I jerked my head over to Able and waited for an explanation.
"His fever picked up again not too long after you had left," he whispered. "I entertained him for a while, Ms. Judson made him a delightful bowl of soup, and then he fell asleep."
I nodded and put a hand on my friend's shoulder, silently thanking him. Then I walked over to Able and placed a hand on his head. It was hot to the touch, but I didn't mind. He subconsciously leaned into my hand, probably a habit he had with his mother and father. Then I went to turn in for the night.
I took off my coat, hat, and vest. I threw them onto my writing desk and had begun untying my cravat. That too ended up on my writing desk. Soon enough, all I had on were my trousers.
Then, I collapsed onto my bed in complete and utter exhaustion. Not surprisingly, it wasn't too long afterwards that I had fallen into a deep sleep.