Saturday, April 29, 2017

CSI: Asia-Chp1

CHAPTER 1: THE MURDER BEGINS

The quiet housing estate of Taman Kingfisher was slightly disturbed with the loud blasting noises coming from one of the double-storey houses. Songs like Linkin Park, Limp Bizkit, Aerosmith and Blink 182 could be heard ringing out of the house as the teenagers were having some sort of a crash party. A lot of hullabaloo was going on and the neighbours were either very patient or were really used to it to be able to tolerate such racket.

Moments later, the phone rang. The host of the party, a young teenager named Lionel Han walked over and answered the phone. He yelled for one of them to turn the volume down a little before picking up the cordless phone and spoke, “Hello, who’s this?”

There was no definite answer, but the boy thought he heard a distant laugh. He listened for another minute and demanded, “Hey, who the heck is this?”

The laugh continued, showing that the person on the other side didn’t intend to answer properly. Lionel hung up and continued to enjoy the party. A few minutes later, the phone rang again and the same thing happened again. It continued for a few more phone calls and the boy thought that enough was enough. He dialed the number of the police and told them what happened.

“Alright, boy,” the police agreed after hearing his story. “We’ll trace the call if you want, but I must say it could be a prank call, since whoever it is must be annoyed with the racket you’re making.”

“Well, whatever payback they’re doing, it is my right to have a party here,” Lionel said haughtily. “Just trace the damn call.”

The party continued as usual for the next 30 minutes or so until the phone rang again. The boy was ready for it. He answered the phone and as expected, the laughing sound continued. Before he could shout out his curses at whoever it was at the end of the line, a bloodcurdling scream was heard. Everyone turned to see the boy’s sister practically crawled out of the room of their younger siblings’ bedroom, her legs going weak all over. They heard a distant crash of glass from the room and muttered to each other, looking at each other with questioning eyes. The girls came to Lionel’s sister’s aid. Lionel rushed to her and asked, “What is it? What’s going on?!”

“Our…Our little brother…and sister…Help…!” the sister was at lost of words, almost choking out of shock.

Lionel hung up the cordless phone and threw it to one of his friends before rushing up to the room where his younger siblings slept. He had left them to sleep in the room (wasn’t easy ‘coz they wanted to stay up late with them and join the party) and he kept the door closed so that the racket would not disturb them. Everyone craned their necks to see what was going on. The friend who took the phone, Gary Yap, decided to go upstairs and check it out. He was halfway up the stairs when he heard Lionel scream in horror. He took two steps at a time and could see his friend vomiting at the carpeted the floor outside the room. Gary took a look inside the room and could feel the popcorn going up his throat.

When the phone rang again, Gary took the liberty to pick it up. It was the police, and their voice sounded grave and serious, “Kid, whatever you’re doing right now, stop right this instant and get out of the house quietly.”

“Too late,” Gary wheezed, his legs going weak as he knelt beside the regurgitating Lionel.

Police cars and ambulances gathered around the house of Lionel Han and curious neighbours came out of their homes to check out what was going on. Soon, a Proton Wira parked beside on of the police cars and out came Jonathan, Judith and Elaine. The girls carried their gadget boxes and they all looked pretty professional. They showed their badges to the police standing guard to keep the public away and they were let in. Careful not to tread on anything that might be relevant evidence, they went all the way upstairs to the kids’ room, led by an Indian officer.

“What have we got here, sir?” Jonathan asked, looking around.

“A very gruesome murder has happened, sir,” the Indian officer replied in his thick Indian accent. “The kids were having a sort of crash party down here and the big sister tried to check out the younger kids, and…well, they found them like this.”

The 3 CSI agents took a peek into the room. There was blood and gore everywhere and 3 bodies could be seen on the carpeted floor. It was a terrible massacre. As Elaine and Judith walked over to check the bodies, Jonathan stayed behind to talk to the Indian officer to brief him of what exactly happened before he walked up to the window which was smashed, leaving a few fragments still jutting out of the frame. He peered closely at the jutting fragments and could see a small—very small—bundle of thread hanging on one of the fragments’ sharp edge. He took out a pair of tweezers from his pocket and picked up the thread before dropping them into the evidence plastic bag. He turned to his fellow colleagues and asked, “What do we have, girls?”

“We have two kids who were hacked in the head with something razor sharp,” Judith replied. “And it could be something heavy too. Maybe an axe or something.”

“And the third kid looked like it had a stab wound on the chest,” Elaine replied. “And…her left leg was amputated. It was a hack job too. Whoever did it didn’t hesitate to do so.”

“The things people do to kids these days,” Jonathan replied, shaking his head. He looked sideways and picked up something from under the desk. It was a vegetable knife, and its blade was blood-stained. He nudged Elaine and said, “I think I’ve found the murder weapon for your legless kid there.”

Elaine took it and slipped it into another evidence plastic bag. Judith continued to check out the bodies that were laid before her. The children were no older than 8 or 9 years old and their heads were practically mangled with the hack job done on them. Fragments of their skulls and a good deal of blood mixed with pieces of brains soaked and drenched onto the bed sheets and pillow cases. There were other several hacks on some part of their bodies and she noticed that one child had his right arm amputated off and the other child’s left arm was gone. Judith looked around the place and couldn’t find the arms.

“It’s clear that this kid was the first to die,” Elaine said, checking her share of the dead body. “Judging by the pressure of the carpet, the perpetrator moved towards this kid first and stabbed her. And the stab wound looks a little old, maybe about more than half an hour. Jude, what are the wounds on your kids?”

“Hmm…” Judith looked at the kids, then replied, “The first boy here had wounds probably about half an hour old or earlier, and the other boy’s wounds are still pretty fresh. You’re right, your kid died first before the others. And the last kid had to put up with a struggle. There are bloody footprints everywhere and look,” Judith pointed at a huge patch of blood on the carpet floor and a few trails of blood which looked like dragged streaks, “he was dragged back to bed after the murderer hacked him.”

“Well, whoever did this was pretty much in a hurry because he actually left the weapon lying around and he escaped from crashing through the window,” Jonathan said as he waved the evidence bag containing the thread to his colleagues. “And also,” he walked over to the bedroom door and gave it a few raps, “this room is soundproof.”

“How did you know?” Elaine and Judith were curious.

“I’ve just talked to the Indian officer. He told me that when the teenage brother, Lionel Han received the laughing phone call from the perpetrator, he has heard nothing from upstairs although they have turned down the volume so that he could hear the perpetrator’s voice. Also, all the kids said that they heard a crash, which is this window here, only when the door was open and that they saw the sister crawling out of the room in fright. With blasting music and loud kids yelling and singing and dancing to the beat yet the kids are still able to sleep, this has to be soundproof.”

“What kind of music they’re playing?” Elaine asked.

“Linkin Park, Limp Bizkit, things teenagers love to listen these days,” Jonathan replied.

“Rad, really rad,” Judith said, nodding. “That’s something I listen to when I get in a bad mood. A little louder with the volume and it’ll break your eardrums and keep anyone awake all night.”

“Besides, you can tell by the wood it’s built out of,” Jonathan continued as he rapped the door a few times again. “Artificial. Something you don’t see growing out of trees. You hear those police chattering out there with the witnesses?”

The girls nodded. Jonathan shut the door and it was completely silent, except the occasional distant noises from the crashed window outside.

“Specially designed for kids who need adequate rest,” Elaine said as Jonathan reopened the door, letting in the chattering between the police and the witnesses. “Smart.”

“Hey, Mark David, I heard something about the police tracing the call of the murderer,” Judith said as she took a good look at the ashen face of Lionel Han, the big brother. “Where did the police say the call was traced to?”

“It turned out that this psychopath actually made the call from the extension phone upstairs,” Jonathan replied. Judith was the only person who would call Jonathan by his middle and last name. “They found the extension phone just right down there when the murderer made his getaway through the window. I told them to bag it and pass it to me.”

“Oh, OK,” Judith replied. Somehow she felt this type of murdering very familiar.

“We’ll need Justin’s help to further analyze the bodies,” Jonathan said as he made a phone call to Justin’s handphone at the crime lab. After giving brief orders, he let the paramedics take the small children away. As the three CSI agents continued to check out the crime scene, Judith overheard something Lionel was muttering to the police between sobs.

“I can’t believe it…our brothers and sister…killed during the month of the Hungry Ghost Festival…this is not good…their souls are going to be restless…Hungry Ghost Festival…not a good month to die…”

The murder seemed to get more and more familiar.

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