Bad Brother: Thriller

By Henry Rohmer

Bad Brother: Thriller

Thriller by Henry Rohmer

The size of this ebook is equivalent to 140 paperback pages.

The daughter of a gangster boss dies during the initiation ritual of a Satanist sect. Her body is found in a garbage dump and triggers a maelstrom of violence. The cult members are now on the syndicate's death list.

But the longer the investigators look into the case, the clearer it becomes that there is a perfidious plan behind the events...

 

Action thriller by Henry Rohmer.

 

Henry Rohmer is the pseudonym of the author Alfred Bekker, who became known to a large audience primarily through his fantasy novels and books for young people. He also wrote historical novels and co-authored suspense series such as Ren Dhark, Jerry Cotton, Cotton Reloaded, John Sinclair, Kommissar X and others.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BEKKERpublishing
• Release date: Jul 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223946717

Book preview

1

It was midnight. The flickering light of the neon signs in the vicinity filtered through the windows of St. Lucas Church on 48th Street now and then. Otherwise, about thirty candles lit the area around the altar. A group of about twenty dark, cowled figures formed a semicircle. Their hoods were pulled low over their faces. In a kind of singsong, they muttered Latin phrases to each other. One of the cowl wearers stepped in front of the altar. He stretched out his arms. His hood slipped back a little, so that for a short time a part of his face, disfigured by scars and ulcers, became visible.

This is Brother Maleficius speaking on behalf of the host of your devoted servants, O Lord of Evil!

Amen! replied the chorus of cowls.

This place is henceforth consecrated to you, Satan! continued the man who had called himself Brother Maleficius. He grabbed the cloth spread over the altar and jerked it, causing the Bible and wooden cross to fall to the ground.

2

The chanting of the cowl bearers swelled. It increased more and more until Brother Maleficius drew a pentagram in the air with the index finger of his left hand. From one second to the next it was silent.

Brother Maleficius stood before the altar, knelt down.

Today we would like to add a new sister to the host of your followers, O Lord of Evil and Damnation! cried the fool.

His words echoed between the high church walls.

Thy will be done, Satan, replied the chorus of cowl-wearing men. As in hell, so on earth.

Brother Maleficius rose again, spun around.

Step forward, Sister of Shame! he shouted.

A relatively petite figure among the cowl wearers took a step forward.

Show yourself! demanded Brother Maleficius.  The hood slid back.  A shock of brown hair became visible. The candlelight illuminated the fine-cut face of a young woman. She let the cowl slide over her shoulders. Underneath, she wore nothing. Her shapely body was painted with magical markings. One of the other cowl bearers handed the young woman a brass-colored chalice.

Drink! demanded Brother Maleficius. Drink, that you may enter the kingdom of Satan and return as his servant!

The young woman drank the contents of the chalice. Suddenly, the chalice fell from her hand. Her body lost its grip. She sank down. Brother Maleficius caught her. He reached under her arms. One of the other cowl bearers came up, grabbed her under the knees.

It was lifted onto the altar and placed there.

Her fair skin shimmered in the flickering light of the candles. The Satan disciples standing in a semicircle began their chanting again. They prayed magic formulas to themselves.

Dominum Satanicum! shouted Brother Maleficius loudly.

He stood in front of the altar, spread his arms and repeated this call a total of six times.

Then Maleficius took out a small silver-colored box from under his robe. He opened it. It contained a luminous, fluorescent powder.

Descended you into the realm of death! Take now the salt of life and return from the underworld as HIS servant forever!

Maleficius took a pinch of the fluorescent powder, opened her lips with his other hand and instilled it into her.

He let the can disappear in the wide sleeves of his frock.

With his right hand, he grabbed the young woman's stomach. There was a wide ring on the middle finger. A red stone was on the inside of the hand. Next to it, a barely visible hypodermic needle protruded.

Maleficius squeezed.

The puncture was barely visible when he pulled back the needle ring.

Awaken, daughter of evil! he cried.

There was absolute silence.

You could have heard a pin drop at that moment.

Maleficius repeated his call. Awake, daughter of evil!

But the young woman did not move.

Her eyes remained fixed like those of a dead person.

One of the other disciples of Satan rushed over. He grabbed the young woman by the shoulders. Dolores! he shouted. Then he felt for her pulse.

He took his hood off his head. The face of a young man with dark curls and a thin mustache appeared. Fear shone in his eyes. Shit, man, she's dead! he shouted. His face turned white as a sheet. He turned to Maleficius. Do you actually know who you killed, you weirdo?

Take it easy, Brett! the fool retorted.

3

A foul smell hit me as I stepped out of the sports car. Hundreds of screeching seagulls circled over the Cannary Lane landfill on Staten Island. About a dozen emergency vehicles from the City Police, State Police, and FBI were parked among the towering piles of trash. In addition, there were the cars of the coroner and some specialists of the Scientific Research Division.

Agents Clive Caravaggio and Fred LaRocca were talking with the Homicide Squad chief in charge. Agent Medina was standing a few feet away, looking at a package wrapped in blue plastic film that was about the size of a human body.

I hope we don't have too long to do here, my friend and colleague Milo Tucker murmured to me. He wrinkled his nose. At least there could be a fresh breeze coming off the Atlantic!

You'll survive, I replied.

No one told me about a gas mask before this deployment.

Isn't that standard equipment - like the Kevlar vest?

Haha, rarely laughed so hard!

Actually, we should always have them in the trunk.

We reached Clive.

The assistant director of the FBI's New York Field Office greeted us curtly and then pointed to the man next to him. This is Captain Riley of the 103rd Precinct Homicide Squad. He called us in.

I gave Riley a friendly nod. They said a body was found here at the landfill.

Captain Riley nodded. However, if it was just any dead body, we wouldn't have notified the FBI, he explained.

Who are we talking about?, I asked.

To Dolores Montalban, daughter of the man known in Spanish Harlem as El Columbiano. I'm sure the name means something to you. He is considered a gray eminence in the cocaine business. Three days ago, a missing persons report was filed. And now we find Dolores here naked and wrapped in plastic at the dump.

When was she found? inquired Clive.

An hour and a half ago. One of the bulldozer drivers noticed the package. The plastic wrapping was damaged. One hand was sticking out.

I see, Clive grumbled. The Italian-American ran a quick hand over his face. The heat and the smell were getting to all of us.

How did you identify Dolores Montalban so quickly?, I asked.

The dead woman has a tattoo between her shoulder blades that is quite unusual, the captain replied. It's an inverted cross. In the current missing persons list for New York City, there is no one else who has that feature.

I see.

In addition, Dolores Montalban has a criminal record. Desecration of churches, desecration of gravesites and the like. By the way, one case is still pending. Along with a couple of accomplices, she allegedly entered St. Andrew Methodist Church on Delaware Road in Paterson, New Jersey at night and painted pig's blood on the walls.

Riley led us to the spot where the dead woman had been found. The coroner was bending over the plastic package, which had been partially cut open by an employee of the Scientific Research Division. The dead woman was completely naked. Strange marks had been painted on her body. Circles, pentagrams, hexagons. Presumably they had some occult meaning.

What is the cause of death? turned Clive Caravaggio to the coroner, a man of about forty with a high forehead. I knew him slightly. His name was Sounders. He made a rather perplexed face, shrugged. Acute cardiac arrest, he said. I can't be much more specific about that yet.

Dr. Sounders hasn't told me anything more yet either, Riley explained. But with a dead body wrapped up like that and dumped in a landfill, I don't think you can assume a natural cause of death.

Dr. Sounders bent down and folded the plastic tarp to the side quite a bit, fully revealing the torso of the deceased. The doctor pointed to a tiny red dot near the belly button. That could be the result of an injection.

You mean Dolores Montalban was poisoned? asked Clive.

"It's all still speculation. I