The Masked Murder

A Short Story by Jeff Davidson

© 2005 Jeff Davidson

This story is solely the author’s work and no part of this
work may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form
without author permission.

Also Author of the Novel “Ver”

For Printed: www.lulu.com/content/94920

For Free Download: www.lulu.com/content/103648

 The murder of Mr. Hen T. Green seemed like the most
interesting of cases on my behalf. It took my eye while read-
ing an article about the famous writer’s suicide.
The Grendich Time’s banner read “Notoriously Well
Known Writer Dead”
“The well known write, Hen T. Green with his classics
like Gordon and My Boy was found dead last night. He was
spotted when Mr. Fruff found. Fruff said, ‘I was walkin’ with
my dog you see and I saw somethin’ shimmer. I walked over
to ‘dis her body cause I saw his watch, flickerin’ in the moon
light.’ The body at the bottom of Red’s Cliff was not an eye-
pleaser. It was mangled from an obvious fall of over a hun-
dred feet.” at the side of the article was Fruff in a black suit,
along with a large black lab.
“The body had splatters of blood on its surroundings
like tree’s and bushes. Everyone came to the conclusion that
Mr. Green committed suicide. Why? No one really knows. He
was very accomplished and everybody liked him. He was a
kind, gentle man. He has three kids and a loving wife that he
has been married to for twenty years now. They refuse to
speak on the matter as of now.”
The article continued onto the next page while Mr.
Green closed shut the paper, sitting his cup of coffee down on
the table. He stood up, walking over to the door. The man
turned and thought about Mr. Green, he had been a close
friend of his.
Why would he kill himself? He had everything going
for him and he just throws it all away.

A clang of coin was heard as a sack of gold and jewels were

thrown onto a table.
 “A cliff,” said a mysterious figure from a corner, he
walked forward exposing a dark hooded figure, “I like it.
Now take you dough and scram.”
“Yes sir.” said the man who grabbed the bag. He
pulled off his hat, gesturing it out to the dark figure, bowing
low, “At your service.”
The hooded man pulled out a gun and shot the man
three times.
“I am no longer in need of your service.” he said, walk-
ing over the body, “Take him away Patrick.”
“Of course.” said a very low, deep voice. It was another
tall and hooded figure that stepped out from the shadows.

On my way to work I pondered these questions. He was just

becoming a very popular writer. His works had inspired
many. He had told me that he was almost finished with his
next book, his best one yet.
Why? Why? Why?
There was a clash of papers and other work materials
on that sunny day off Main Street. I had run into a man, a
very tall one. He was bulky, his arms full of muscle.
“Watch where you’re going,” he said in a very deep
voice, “you could get hurt next time.” He picked up his pa-
pers and something very shiny. It was something silver with a
black grip from the looks of it. Before I could get a better look
he had turned the corner.
“Out of sight and out of mind.” I said to myself. Yet I
knew this man was not going to be out of my mind.

I sat by the fire that night, thinking about everything. I felt

horrible, like I was ready to cry. I held onto a teddy bear my
mother had given me as a child for comfort.
 The night made nothing better. It was pouring rain
with winds that would knock you right off your feet. The
trees would sway and snap in the gale force winds.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door.
“Who would be here at this time?” I asked myself, yet
decided to go to the door anyway. Before opening I looked
out and saw a hooded figure polishing a very long revolver.
I fell to the floor with one giant gasp. I didn’t know
what to do or where to go. The first thing I could think of I
did.
I ran upstairs.

I heard a loud crash as I sat in that closet, huddled in the cor-

ner. He had broken through the door. I heard him walking
around downstairs, smashing whatever he could.
Then it happened, the foot steps moved up the stairs.
The creak of the fifth board, he was half way there now. I felt
my blood go cold and I almost passed out.
Yet I didn’t, I knew that would be my death. I sat and
waited, until he entered upon my room. The man walked
around, picking things up then shattering them down. An-
other floor board creaked, the one in front of my closet door. I
could almost see him smile.
The door flew open and I jumped out, throwing him to
the ground. I ran to my window and jumped. He got in one
shot at my leg on my mad dash out the glass. I grabbed the
wet nearby vine that ran down my house. I slid to its’ base
and jumped off; screaming in pain from the shot that only
skinned my lower leg.
Blood covered my lower pants while I ran and ran. I
knew the man was still in my house. I turned once when I was
far out of his guns range and saw his dark shadow standing
in my window. And on that black night, I knew my life would
never be the same again.

I ran off into the night at top speed. Things were swirling
through my head; I was trying to make a connection. The
possible suicide of my friend and now this. Something was
wrong…something was very wrong.
I reached the police station far after midnight. It had
been about ten fifteen when he broke into my home; the po-
lice station was about twenty miles from my home. It had to
be at least five in the morning.
I crotched down under the police station sign by the
door, waiting for someone to come.
***
I jumped awake at the sound of more foot steps. I looked un-
der the sign to see a pair of police shoes walking through
puddles. Sighing, I got up to talk to him.
He jumped at the sight of me coming from behind the
sign. I don’t really blame him though; my sight was not a
pleasing one. I was wet and covered in mud. My face and hair
had pebbles and dirt all over it. I could have been mistaken
for the sand man that bright morning.
The officer grabbed his belt and held up his pants up a
little higher. He was the kind of stereotyped officer, wide and
appearing as if he had a couple donuts back in the day. “You
scared me there son.”
“Sorry officer Henry, but I have a little problem.”
“By ‘gum you do. Come inside, tell me what’s hap-
pened.”

Inside the station I felt a lot safer. The atmosphere was nice
and simple. Things were clean and organized. He made me
take a shower before I talked, said that would be better than
me freezing to death.
After the warm shower I was feeling a little better. I sat
down on a large cushiony couch and talked.
“Well you see sir, last night, a little after ten; I heard a
knocking at the door. I looked outside and I saw a tall hooded
man holding a long silver gun. I ran up to my room to hide
cause he broke in. He came up to my room and I tackled him
and ran. He shot my leg on the way out the window, nothing
serious.” I said, unraveling the ripped shirt around the cut.
The officer sat down behind his desk, holding a large
cup of coffee, “Tell me son, you got any enemies?”
“No sir.”
“Did you do anythin’ to get someone mad recently?”
he asked me.
“No, I stay to myself in my little home.” I said, “And I
don’t believe he was there to rob me.”
“No,” he responded, “neither do I.”
The officer was rubbing him chin and I said, “Sir,
you’ve heard of the death of Mr. Green haven’t you?”
“Of course I had,” he said, standing up and pacing the
room, “I was on the case. Wonderful man, his death was a big
surprise to us.”
“Well I was a good friend of Mr. Green. I don’t under-
stand either why he would kill himself. I’m starting to come
to the conclusion that he didn’t.”
“Hmm.” said the officer, once again rubbing him chin.
“I’ve been thinking that maybe there’s some connec-
tion. Is there any way we can go see the body.” I asked him.
“Yes we may be able to see it before the autopsy but…”
“But what?” I asked.
 “But they don’t usually let anybody see the body be-
fore they perform the autopsy.” he said, “You know I was a
good friend of Mr. Green too. I don’t believe that man killed
himself, and it’s our civic duty to figure out why he died,” he
paused, “we move tonight.”

Officer Henry said it was not safe to return to my home any

time soon. He showed me to the hotel next to the station, said
he would be there to pick me up around midnight tonight. I
was going to go sleep until then, maybe get something warm
to eat.
I slept all day until my alarm clock went off around
11:45. I sat up in my bed, rubbing my eyes. I was ready to find
out the truth.
I heard a knocking at the door, he was early. Without
thinking I unlatched the door to find the hooded figure.
“Well hello.” he said and pushed the door back. His
voice was deep and horrifying. I fell to the floor as he pulled
out his very long silver gun. A large dog stood behind him
growling.
“What do you want? Why are you after me?” I
screamed at him, hoping someone would hear and help.
“You are a bad man, and bad men deserve to die.” he
put the gun in front of my face, placed his finger on the trig-
ger, “Say bye bye.”
He crashed to the floor and I scrambled backwards to
miss the falling corpse. The dog ran off yelping.
“Bye bye.” said Officer Henry who was standing in the
open doorway, “Are you alright?”
“Yes I’m fine,” I said, gasping for breath, “You saved
my life.”
 Henry was already at the body; he picked up the gun
and observed it. “I think I saved a lot more than just your life.
Look at this.”
I got up and walked over to the fallen body. The officer
said, “Look at this, it’s a wire connected to a bomb under his
shirt.” He exposed the man’s chest with a bomb taped to it,
“This much explosives could blast our city along with the next
three. These guys mean business, but I don’t know what for.
Any ideas?”
“No,” I said, still breathing heavily, “I don’t really
understand anything right now.”

We decided that we should go; he said I could stay but I

couldn’t wait any longer. This may be a once in a lifetime
chance to find evidence about my friend.
We walked up to the building after midnight. It was
pretty funny actually; I was breaking into an autopsy room
with a police officer.
“Now this place is locked but I think I can get in with
this.” he said, holding out a fake ID card that read Joshua
Burn.
“Where did you get that?” I asked.
“When you’re an officer you learn a lot more than just
how to shoot a gun.” he replied.
We walked up to a back door, careful to be low to the
ground. He put the card into the scanner and we jumped in.

The place was spooky. Its walls were covered in filing cabi-
nets that were completely filled. Rooms to each side had small
glass windows with metal wire weaved through. We walked
to the end of the dark hall, and went through a door labeled
“Holding Room.”
 The holding room had looked as I expected, hundreds
of black metal lockers lining the walls.
“How do we know which one is his?” I asked, wonder-
ing how we could find his body in the hundreds of lockers.
The officer looked around and then pointed at some-
thing, “Over there, the computer.”
Yes of course I thought, the computer.
We jogged to the computer and turned on the monitor.
The computer had stayed on but it needed a password. Sim-
ple enough, Joshua would help us. Officer Henry typed in the
code on the back of Joshua’s card and came up with a screen
that said, “Search Database.”
Officer Henry typed in Green to find over thirty names.
“Here,” he said, “Hen T. Green, Male, Age 37. He is locker
92.”
We turned and ran to locker 92. It was the third row
from the bottom and easy enough to view the body. The offi-
cer put his card in front of the locker and it scanned. There
was an unlocking sound as the locker became undone. To-
gether we pulled it out to expose a pool of blood.
And nothing else.

“A little late aren’t we boys?” said someone from behind

them.
We turned around to see three hooded figures, the
middle one was the one talking. The center one was also the
one holding the gun.
“How nice of us to finally meet.” he said, “It’s been so
long.”
“Who are you?” I asked.
 “Who am I?” he said, the three of them laughed, “Why
I am Bert, don’t you remember? We used to go to school to-
gether.”
“Oh my god.” I said, “No, Bert no.”
He walked forward, talking extremely loud now, “Yes,
you and Green used to always pick on me. That I dealt with; I
could live with your torment. But you took the woman I love.
YOU STOLE HER FROM ME! NOW I’M GETTING
REVENGE BUDDY, OH AND HOW SWEET IT IS!”
Out of nowhere Officer Henry shot the mans gun out
of his hand, then again at his arm (aimed at his head but he
was already running). The main hooded figure ran, holding
his hand tightly. The officer shot at the other two but missed.
They were all gone within seconds.
“Officer Henry, what a nice surprise,” said another of-
ficer.
“Officer Fern,” said Henry nodding to him, “did you
catch those men? They were after this man here. I came just in
time. They chased him in here and he pulled his gun. I had no
choice but to fire.”
“Yes we know. And no we didn’t catch them.” the offi-
cer changed to me, “Go home son, get some sleep.”
“I’ll take him home sir.” he said with another nod
goodbye.
“Take care officer.” Fern said.

Officer Henry’s car was a wreck, the complete opposite of his

office.
“Come back to my house, I don’t want you at your
home right now.” he said to me.
“Yes,” I said, “But why didn’t you say that to officer
Fern? You told him you were taking me home?”
 “You see, not all officers are good with these types of
things. He could connect a few things very easily if he wanted
to, in which I’m sure he does, then get us both thrown in jail.”
he stopped at a red light in town, “You are no longer safe.
Now he has a reason to be after you. There are many ques-
tions running through my head that I don’t understand, you
have to just trust me.”
I hope I can officer I thought to myself, God help me if I
can’t.

“Come on, get inside, don’t let no one see you.” said the offi-
cer in a very sketchy tone. He was obviously afraid, anxious.
Now this scared me because when you’ve got an officer
afraid, there’s good reason for yourself to be afraid.
His home was a humble one, clean and bright. Yet not
for long, he shut the blinds and all the lights except for one at
a computer.
“Pull up a chair,” he said, “I have a feeling we may be
up for a while.”

We were searching through his computer, through files and

internet sites. He would ask me loads of questions about this
Bert.
He started off with, “What’s his last name?”
“Ramos,” I said, “he’s…”
I was interrupted by the fast paced clicking through a
huge cyber file. Up popped a page that said “Zero found.”
“No criminal background in our area.” he said, “But he
could on a higher level. I should check.” he started talking to
himself, he sounded almost crazy, “that’s difficult, very diffi-
cult though. Getting into those files are dangerous material
for a local cop.”
 I started to lose him, he was speaking so fast. Soon his
clicking started up again, he went to an internet page and at-
tempted to get into what looked like a federal website. It was
useless, the password was invalid. He was mumbling now.
“Hacking, the only way.” he mumbled to himself,
“Yes.”
He started to do things like shutting off firewalls and
spy blockers. Then he walked out of the room for a few sec-
onds and came back with another computer that he connected
into the wall.
His talking continued, “I can get into my computer.”
He went to the original computer and clicked on the web page
again, same error, “Through this computer, and possibly find
the code. Difficult, yes, very difficult.”
He obviously had his mind set to this, something was
going to happen soon, I could feel it. He was on a role, a dan-
gerous one that could end you up at the bottom of a cliff.
He started to type on the other computer, doing very
odd things I had never seen or known possible. The officer
was a super genius and I had never known it.
“How did you learn all this stuff?” I asked him.
He started to talk without looking at me, “In college I
did this type of stuff all the time. Never on this level of course,
but I did this sort of stuff. My friends and I would hack into
each others computers for fun. We stopped when our head
mistress caught us one day. Said ‘You haven’t broken any
rules because it’s your own computers but you could. This
type of stuff could get you boys in a lot of trouble and I want
you to stop. If I see you again you’re all going to be expelled.’
So we stopped, never to do it again until today.”
“Wow.” I said, amazed and a little afraid.
 “Yeah, hopefully I can still do this type of stuff. It’ll be
a lot harder like this though.”
“But wouldn’t they be able to track the computer?” I
asked.
“No because this other computer is completely un-
traceable. It was given to me through the police department
so I wouldn’t be caught tracking criminals. Heh, they proba-
bly never though I’d be hacking into the FBI and CIA.”
I jumped out of my sea, “FBI and CIA!” I exclaimed, “Is
that possible?”
“Oh it’s possible. Whether or not I can do it, I’m not
sure.”
“But…do you really think this guy would be on an
FBI/CIA level?” I asked.
“Yes I do. Anyone who carries guns and explosives
with loads of henchman must be at least a little dangerous.
Don’t you agree?”
“I guess you’re right.” I said, “I don’t understand
though. If he has all these henchmen, how do we know that it
was even him back there?”
“Because the murderer will always tell you who he
really is before he’s ready to kill you. He wants you to know
his revenge, it would make it sweeter for him.” he said while
vigorously typing away at both computers now.
“Then in the future how will we know it’s him?”
“It depends; if he attacks us then we won’t know until
we reveal the face. That is why I am looking for all of this, for
a criminal record. Yet if we go after him then we can know,
we would have to stop him and all his henchman. Hopefully
his voice is distinctive to him and only him. If his voice is not
then it will be hard to tell by that.” he said it all very fast, “I
want a criminal record on him and possibly his henchman so
we can prove he was wanted or proven a criminal before.”
“Ok.” I said, and let him work for a while now.

“Yes! I’m in,” said the officer, “I got a fake name and pass-
word and now I am on the linked FBI/CIA website. Now I
have to look him up before I get kicked off.”
“Kicked off?”
“Yeah they’ll catch me soon, but since it’s late it may
take a little longer. Hopefully luck will be with us this night.”
he said.
“How long do you think it will take?”
“About an hour I’d say. If were lucky we could get two
or three.”
“What if we’re not?” I asked.
“About two and a half minutes.”
Luckily we had more than two and a half minutes because we
were going to need it. It had been half an hour without find-
ing anything. These databases were huge; it was like nothing I
had ever seen. It was pile upon pile upon pile of anyone and
everyone. Millions of people were named in here, for any-
thing they had done. We were almost ready to give up when
something odd came up.

“Bert Ramos is Under Level 5 Security. Level 5 Security

Password Require.” Started to flash across the screen, over
and over again. They meant business with this, they were hid-
ing something that they didn’t want people like us to see.
But Officer Henry wasn’t just a person; he was a police
officer and ex-hacker.
“So you can do this right?” I asked him nervously.
 “I dunno,” he said, now he was rubbing his chin again,
“Level five is difficult you see. This level is monitored con-
tinuously around the world, not only by computers, by hu-
mans. They watch this every waking minute. This is not like
the TV shows where the guy falls asleep in front of the cam-
era, no they are always awake. They have at least forty people
I know of watching this part of the site, then hundreds of
computers that will see anything. We have to get in here un-
seen, but that’s very difficult. I only know one person who
could do it.”
“And who would that be?”
“Ghost,” he said, “they say he’s one of the best hackers,
but he’s in retirement from hacking now and I doubt he’ll
come out.”
“Who is this ‘Ghost’ though?”
“Officer McBride.”
“Officer McBride?” I called out, “Are you serious?”
“Yes now quiet down,” he said, shushing me, “nobody
knows this, if they did it could ruin his life. He went into eve-
rything, not just each others computers and small websites.
He’s the only one that could handle something like this.”
“You said he’s retired from this though.”
“Well we’re going to get him out.” said the officer.

It was raining again as we stood at the door of Officer

McBride’s. This surprised me a great deal because Officer
McBride seemed like one of the nicest family men in our
town. He has never pulled a gun on anyone in his life, al-
though he could have on a few occasions.
Henry rang the door, no answer. He rung it again and
we heard a man come down the stairs saying, “I heard ya’, I
heard ya’.”
 The short bulky man opened the door to see the two
most disgusting and dirty people on the face of the earth. We
were not only covered from head to toe in dirt and other ma-
terials, we were worn out of our minds now. Things were rac-
ing and spinning.
“Officer Henry, what in blazes name are you two doin’
out there? Come in.” he said.
“No time, we have to get back to my house. We are in
grave need of your help, there’s a murderer on the loose and
you’re the only one that can help us right now.”
“What is it? What do you need me to do?” he de-
manded.
“You need to hack Officer. We need you now; I have
gotten into the FBI and CIA site. I need to get into a Level 5
though. We need the information in there; it can lead us to
solving this case.”
“Stop stop stop,” he said, “now I don’t know nothin’
about your case here but I told you, I’m in retirement. I don’t
hack anymore, it’s a dangerous field. And a Level 5 man, I
don’t even know if I’ve ever done a Level 5.”
“This man could’ve killed hundreds; he could have
had even you dead today. He had a bomb in the Beamers Mo-
tel today. He had enough explosives to blow this town along
with the next three, to pieces. You’d all be dead. Worst of all,
it wasn’t even him; it was one of his henchman. I killed him
right before he detonated the bomb. We were over at Hen T.
Green’s body which we found out was missing. This man
must have taken it, he’s hiding something. Green didn’t
commit a suicide, come on. Connect the pieces officer, some-
body killed him. We need you to get that Level 5 and now!”
Officer McBride thought about it for a moment then
said, “For Green I will do it.”
 “Thank you,” said Henry, “thank you, thank you,
thank you.” He crawled up to him and gave him a hug,
McBride hugged him back.

This would be another “work through the night” for them.

Everything seemed so complicated and extreme. Officer
McBride was one of the most amazing hacker I’d ever seen,
and I’ve watched a lot of TV shows. He takes awesome to the
limit and over.
He started his work on the Level 5. We were on a race
against the clock at the moment. No one knew how much
time they had left, and ghost started to seem uneasy.
“This is difficult work Officer,” Ghost said, he was
starting to sweat; “I’ve never managed anything like this be-
fore. Its dangerous, and I hope you know that.”
“I do sir, I do.” responded Henry.
Ghost’s work continued, he sent orders into the com-
puter, codes to crack other ones. He piled in hundreds of
passwords and nothing seemed to work.
But none of that mattered when the power went
out…and let me tell you, I doubted it was coming back any
time soon.

Those horrid foot steps came from the front of the house
again. It was him; he was back for his revenge.
Officer Henry ran to get his gun on the other side of the
room but was quickly stopped by one of the hooded figures.
He put his hand over the mans mouth to stop the yelling and
two more stepped from the shadows. They took Ghost and I
with an extraordinary strength, throwing us both to the
ground. They tied rope around all three of our wrists, legs
and mouths. That was the last thing I saw before I felt the butt
of a gun come in contact with the back of my head.

I woke up in what looked like a hospital room. I had no idea

what day it was, or what time for that matter. Yet something
was wrong, very wrong. It wasn’t normal, no little TV or
nurse who brings you drinks. All around the room were pic-
tures of a black lab.
The ropes were still around my wrists, legs and mouth.
I closed my eyes for a second, very tightly, then looked to
both sides. On the two nearby beds lay the bodies of Officer
Henry and Ghost.
“Oh how revenge is sweet.”