Part 02

Stegner stopped and muttered “Holy shit.” The sound was quite loud in the quiet theater.

Jenkins looked back over his shoulder. “It gets weirder. Come on.”

Together, they made their way to the front of the stage and gazed up at the horrifyingly beautiful scene. The four women had the muscular builds of professional dancers but their bodies were very pale. They had been dressed in beautiful costumes, no doubt from the wardrobe room behind the stage area, and their hair and makeup were done exquisitely. Under the colored spots, they appeared gorgeous and almost ethereal.

Stegner pulled out his notepad, and began to make notes. He had been investigating murders for twenty years now, and his brain automatically began to notice details that were transcribed by his fingers in a cryptic and almost illegible hand.

Jenkins waited for Stegner to finish his initial observations before he attempted to discuss the scene. They had been partners for eight years, and Paul had learned a long time ago how Stegner worked. This was one of the reasons that the two men got along so well.

From this vantage point, small details became clear. The four victims were adorned with heavy stage makeup on their faces. Their eyes seemed to sparkle from between almost closed lids, and as he stared into the face of the girl closest to him, Stegner realized that her eyes, in fact all of their eyes, had been replaced with striated crystal marbles. Each victim had a single rose bloom positioned at her feet, and the eyes seemed to have been aimed at these flowers. The thin cords that rose from the dancers’ bodies had been driven through their limbs and affixed to a swivel anchor. It appeared that the anchor had been used to pierce the joints, but there was no blood to be seen. Anywhere.

Stegner let his eyes follow the cords up into the catwalks above the stage, where they were affixed to what appeared to be giant puppet control sticks. These wooden crossed bars were suspended from the thick frames that supported the lights and pulleys.

“Did the RP or the uniforms touch anything?”

“No. First respondent was…” Jenkins checked his own notes, “Gallagher. He felt the first vic on the right for a pulse, but he had the sense to glove up. No one else even came close. They were all too creeped out.”

Jenkins gave Stegner a grin. “I called the M.E. and Jerry Walters is on the way, but I wouldn’t have let even his team get close until you had a chance to make your notes.”

“You’re alright, Paul. I don’t care what everyone else says.”

“Yeah, tell Frannie that. She’s gonna have to put my dinner in the microwave again.”

Stegner walked toward the backstage entrance. “Oh please,” he said. “I’ll trade you. I’ll eat your cold homemade dinner, and you can try a cardboard pizza.”

“No dice.” Jenkins followed Stegner. “You know, Howie, I could always have Frannie put an extra helping away, if you wanna come over after we get this mess handled.”

They climbed the steps from floor level to the back stage area, behind the thick velvet curtains. “You mean if we get this handled. I ain’t never seen anything like it.”