The smoke of my cigarette dances on the fire of its embers while I breathe in the tar. Chills silently run along my body from the slow breezes of the city. Exposed skin is cold like chunks of ice from the late winter. Honking, common yelling, and occasional barking fill the streets below. Then something breaks my one peaceful moment of the day.
"Detective Kane…Detective Kane?"
I look over my shoulder just enough to acknowledge his presence. He is young and shuffling like he's green on the gills.
"Okay, well, I came up here because I just finished speaking with your captain, and he has told me that you will be the lead on this special case. I am FBI special investigator Jaden Nelson, and my plans are to assist you the best I can."
Silence takes up the space after he speaks. I take one last huff of my cigarette before tossing it down the street below. I reach into my coat for my very own warming device and take a swig from my flask.
"So I gotta play kiss ass with you federal boys now?"
I say it without turning around; the cold air begins to grow tense and rev up for an easy confrontation.
"Detective Kane. I only hear good things about the work you do, but your captain has told me that you have had some issues in the past with the FBI and how they have conducted their investigations in the past."
He clears his throat as if the next part is some rehearsed line in his head.
"My…superiors have been making growing efforts at weeding out bad eggs and some corruption within our ranks."
I finally turn to face him and get a showing of one of the FBI's finest. He stands at about five feet five inches, maybe six inches. If he didn't have such an official tone and the badge hanging from his belt, I'd guess he just escaped a year of captivity. The bags under his eyes give more expression than his entire body does.
"You're the best they have to offer?"
"I am one of the best in my class and highly respected within the agency. I have over thirty cases solved within my first year."
He adds the last part with pride, like it's part of who he is.
"Hmm…thirty cases, I hear that's pretty good for your suits," I say while rubbing my chin.
"So long as you are willing to put your entire self into a case, then you are sure to solve it. That is something my mentor used to say when I was in training, and I like to say it has been partly the reason I have been able to do it as efficiently."
"If you say so," I mutter under my breath.
I turn towards the door and walk past him; he follows right along behind me. Opening the door of my office is a one-way trip back into the fray. Suspects cussing while cuffed to a bench, awaiting processing and chit chat by the coffee pot and doughnuts. I head right for a cup of the good stuff.
"So… Detective Kane, I wanted to ask about what you saw at the crime scene?"
"Weren't you given my report on it?"
"Yes, though sometimes I find that stuff can unintentionally be omitted from a report at times."
I halt in my tracks and turn to finally look him in his eyes, face to face.
"What the fuck are you trying to imply?" I say with a snarl.
For a fraction of a second, I saw a glimpse of fear brought to the surface of his face.
"Detective Kane, I am not implying anything at all. I am simply saying that at times, some small things can be overlooked, especially with a case as strange as this one."
A moment lingers, and I stare into his eyes, trying to decipher if he means any of what he says. Turning to resume my mission for a cup of joe and begin to describe the event.
"I was called out for a noise complaint in a multiple-level apartment building on West and Third. The caller said they heard loud yelling and things being smashed in the apartment next to theirs. Seemed like a normal call at the time, at worst a potential domestic violence issue."
"Do you recall anyone outside the apartment building that may have seemed different or off?"
He asks as I pour my coffee and grab some sugar packets.
"No. This happened late at night, and there was a janitor on duty, and I questioned him, but he didn't see anyone come in or out. I had him show me the cameras and nothing, one camera was out of order, but he said that it had been like that for the past few days."
"Where was the camera located?"
"Back of the building, facing east towards the expressway."
"Ok, and what else happened after you arrived?"
He takes out a notepad and begins to write something down as I take my first sip of coffee.
"Well, I get up to the fourth floor, apartment 5B, then I knock on the door. After a few minutes of no answer, I knocked on the neighbor's door and questioned the neighbor who called in. They tell me that it sounded like a struggle had happened shortly before I arrived because there was screaming for help, then some loud crashes and silence."
Entering back into my office and closing the door behind him before I continued. With a sigh, I sit down at my desk and reach into my desk drawer for a file.
"Now, at the time, I fully believed there was an altercation, and someone was hurt or worse, so I went back and said it was the police and to open up. I got nothing, so I radioed for back up and broke the door down. As the door caved in, a pack of bees flew past my head and straight towards the stairs and away. None of them even stung or flew around me. As I entered the apartment, I saw little drops of blood all over, and when I went deeper, I found the body." I say as I toss him the file.
"When I inspected the victim, I found little holes covering his head, arms, and body. The apartment was trashed, and there were no signs of any other person or forced entry into his home. His stove was on, and it appeared that he was making dinner, mac and cheese. Forensic came back just a few hours ago and gave me…well, more fucking questions."
"What did they come back with?"
He asks gleefully, like the story is more intriguing than confusing to him.
"She was stung to death by bees, and he had a dead queen bee in his mouth that appeared to have been stinging him as well. They suggested that maybe there was a beehive in his apartment, and he attempted to eat one of the bees, and it just happened to be the queen. They think that is what caused the bees to attack and kill him."
I see him register all of this information and keep flipping through the photos of the scene. He sits for a good few minutes looking through the images and thinking.
"Something doesn't add up. Hornets could have done this, or those killer Japanese ones, but just normal honey bees. They don't attack in a coordinated attack like this, and the amount of stings is insane. Why never run out of his apartment? Also, you said the bees flew away from their nest and just vanished down the stairs, which doesn't fit their behavior profile either. Lastly, if he did attempt to eat the bee, why was it still alive and stinging him in his mouth? Wouldn't it have been crushed in one bite?"
"I'm glad because I felt the exact same way about it."
"So then, Detective Kane, want to get back over to that crime scene and see if we can't come up with some clues?"
"Fuckin' a I am," I say while grabbing my coat, with a reluctant half smile.
Bio:
Shane Horton is a short-fiction writer whose work focuses on crime, psychological tension, and speculative elements. He publishes regularly online and is currently developing stories that explore grounded human perspectives within heightened or unusual worlds. His writing is influenced by noir fiction, modern genre storytelling, and narrative-driven games.