Pride
The phone woke Mills. He sat up suddenly. Tracy's nails were digging into his arm. "David! What is it?"
Mills picked up the phone quickly. "Hello?"
"I've done it again."
Mills's blood turned to ice. He knew that voice. It was John Doe. How did he get Mills's number?
"Doe! Are you there? Talk to me!"
But it wasn't Doe. It was Somerset.
Mills was angry. "What's wrong with you, Somerset?" he shouted. He looked at the clock by the bed. It was 4:38 in the morning.
"I just got a call from the officer guarding Doe's apartment," said Somerset. "Doe called there and left the message you just heard."
"Is that all he said?"
"Yes. We also found another body. Pride."
Tracy looked worried. "David," she said. "What's happening?"
Mills's head was hurting. "I wish I knew," he said.
***
When Mills arrived at the new crime scene, the police department workers were already busy. Somerset and the Medical Examiner were in the bedroom. The first thing Mills saw were the words on the wall over the bed: PRIDE - then underneath - I DID NOT KILL HER. SHE WAS ABLE TO CHOOSE.
Sitting up in bed was the body. Her face was bandaged. There was blood on the bandage. In one hand she held a small bottle. Two red pills had fallen out onto the bed. The bed was crowded with soft, woolly animals.
The doctor started to cut through the bandages around her head. Mills was afraid of what he was going to see.
Somerset had found a photo of the victim. He showed it to Mills. Her name was Linda Abernathy. She was beautiful.
The doctor took off the bandage. Her nose was gone. Mills had to look away. His stomach was turning over. He had to leave the room.
"The killer cut off her nose," said Somerset, "and gave her the bottle of pills. She could choose to live without a nose or kill herself."
***
Mills and Somerset drove back to the precinct house through the slow-moving traffic.
As they got out of the car, a man got out of a taxi and followed them into the building.
"Excuse me. Detective?"
Mills kept on walking.
"Detective?"
Mills turned around, and almost fell over with surprise. It was John Doe. Doe smiled and held up his hands. His shirt and pants were wet with blood.
Mills couldn't believe this was happening. "It's him!" California suddenly shouted. He pulled his gun and ran up to Doe. Pushing his gun against Doe's ear, he shouted, "On the ground! Now! Move!"
By this time, Mills and several other cops had their guns pointed at Doe.
Somerset ran back down the stairs. "Be careful!" he shouted. Doe was lying on his face, doing what he was told, but Mills wasn't going to take a chance. He stood over Doe with his gun pressed against Doe's neck. "Hands behind your head!" he ordered. "Don't move!"
Doe turned his head and smiled at Somerset. "Hello," he said.
California shouted "Shut up!" and pushed Doe's head to the floor.
"What is it?" whispered Mills to Somerset.
"I don't under-stand this."
Somerset could only shake his head.
Doe looked at Mills again. "I want to speak to my lawyer" he said.
by Bruno Anthony