The Black Jester (Episode One, Kings of New Orleans Series)

  ***

  Dr. Vance removes his reading glasses and sets them on the client file he’s been reviewing. He’s notorious for working late most nights, and he’s the only one left in his small office building, across town from the police precinct and his secondary office there. The muted glow of his desk lamp illuminates his aged face.

  The Black Jester’s entrance is neither stealthy nor controlled. He kicks in the front door to the office, and proceeds directly to Dr. Vance’s closed office door, kicking it in and sending it flying off its hinges.

  “What the hell?” Dr. Vance exclaims. Stunned, he rises from his chair but stays behind his desk.

  The Black Jester charges into the room and overturns the brown leather chair in front of the doctor’s desk

  Holding his hands up, Dr. Vance stares in surprise at the costumed terror. “What do you want? I don’t have any money.”

  The Black Jester grabs the doctor by the collar over the desk and pulls him in close.

  “Help me!” he demands.

  Terrified, the doctor struggles with his words. “Uh, okay what do you need help with?”

  The Black Jester’s demonic white eyes peer angrily into the Doctor’s. “Help me understand.”

  “Understand what?

  “Rose White.”

  “Rose White? What do you mean?” he stutters. “I don’t know who that is!”

  The Black Jester gives him a violent shake. “Don’t lie! Help me understand why you told Antonio Strong where she was.” His voice is low but strained.

  “I’m not able to discuss my patients with-”

  “Antonio Strong nearly killed her. Because you lead him to her!”

  “Why don’t you just calm down, son, and we can talk about this, okay?”

  The Black Jester shakes his head and a sinister smile spreads across his lips.

  Dr. Vance clears his throat and tries to calm himself. “Whatever you’re going through, I can help you. I’m a psychiatrist!”

  The Black Jester shakes him again, this time ripping the doctor’s shirt collar.

  “She was afraid of him, Doctor. She was your patient and you threw her to the wolves. Your time is up!” he hisses through clenched teeth.

  “No, please!” the doctor pleads.

  The Black Jester delivers his vengeance. He strangles the corrupt doctor with an iron grip, crushing his windpipe with his bare hands. The doctor’s face reddens, and the veins in his forehead bulge. He thrashes his arms and attempts to pry his killer’s hands from his neck, desperately swiping and clawing at the masked face. The doctor’s feet are inches off the floor, kicking aimlessly, his knees and shins bumping up against the desk. The Black Jester squeezes harder and watches as the man’s terrified face turns shades from red to purple.

  The last signs of life flicker out as the doctor stops struggling and falls limp. The Black Jester releases his death grip and lets the body slump over the mahogany desk. Still on his adrenaline rush, the Black Jester isn’t ready to stop his violent attack. He swipes papers and electronics off their tables, overturns furniture, and tears down a bookshelf from the wall. He means to destroy the doctor’s office and to leave no sign of normalcy and order.

  Breathing hard from the brutal act, he approaches his victim once more, and withdraws the special token from inside his black trench coat. He slowly breathes in its aroma, then sets it on top of Dr. Vance’s lifeless body. Satisfied with his actions, he slips silently away into the dark night.