Chapter 01
Connor shuffled along the damp, dingy street lit by grimy street lamps of a bygone era. He kept his hat hung low over his eyes. Every once in a while he would peak out from under the brim. He stuffed his hands deep in the pockets of the old jacket he wore, which was as grimy and dirty as the street lamps.
The sun began to slither behind the tall buildings. The glass on the outside windows once reflected the beauty of the neighborhood, which left decades before. As Connor continued his shuffle down the street, he side stepped the pimps and ignored the come on from the whores. He snickered at the lurid windows of sex shops and the crap filled entries of the XXX video stores. He didn’t need those places to get his high.
When Connor reached the corner where the Paradise Bar was open for business under broken street lamps that were held in place by the bums and winos leaning against them, he stopped by a young, broken down, crack addicted street walker. In a low hoarse whisper, he commanded; “Come with me, bitch.”
She slipped in step behind Connor as he was the first trick of an already long, cold night. In the ally, Connor stopped suddenly, and drew his long, glistening Bowie knife from his belt. In a quick motion, he turned and let the tip of the knife slide swiftly and deeply across the front of the whore’s neck. After she collapsed in lump on the filthy concrete, he smiled and let his body shiver in a spasm of delight before he wiped the knife tip on the ragged clothes of his latest victim. For Connor, she was a victim that nobody would miss, much less care about.
There was a filth encrusted and nearly rusted out dumpster between Connor and Second Avenue. He peeled off the dirty jacket and hat and casually tossed them into the foul smelling garbage bin. He then pulled off the latex gloves as he walked away and shoved them into the back pocket of his clean, trendy jeans. He took long, arrogant strides in the same direction that he walked before encountering the prostitute. A smile crossed his face as he held his head high. He made sure to say “hi” to those who made eye contact with him. They returned the smile with either a nod or a “hi” response. They felt a certain joy at being recognized by Connor.
On the edge of the area known as Old Town, Connor slipped behind the wheel of his large, black Lincoln. He drove to River Park and stopped next to the bike trails that circled the city. He removed his belt, and the contents of his pockets, except for the latex gloves. He tossed the old shoes and the jeans in the remarkably clean dumpster that was half full. He heard the sounds of a garbage truck heading his way. He started jogging toward the trails as he used the remote to lock his car.
An hour later, Connor returned from his run along the river. He was hot and sweaty; but at the same time he felt refreshed and alive. He quickly double checked the dumpster was empty before he opened the door lock and slid into the driver’s seat. He headed toward his favorite gym that was only two miles from the park. He pointed his Lincoln in that direction.
He parked in an out-of-the-way corner. He knew it was out of sight of the security cameras and not in direct line of sight of any of the windows. He got out of the car quickly and swiftly started jogging the neighborhood surrounding the gym. One time around the block; and as the sun blinked its last light, he headed in the door after passing his key card in front of the electronic reading pad. Connor headed straight to the locker rooms. He visited with some of the regulars he saw when he was changing out of his street clothes. They all laughed at the hapless joke Joe told for the fifth time.
He let the hot water of the shower pour over him, allowing him to let his mind wander to his earlier exercise in an ally along Second Avenue. After fifteen minutes he turned off all the hot water and let the chill of the cold water bring his clear-headed and well organized thinking back from the razor’s edge of sanity. He brushed his teeth, shaved and combed his hair. Connor admired his reflection in the mirror. Back at his locker he slipped on his crisply starched, monogrammed pure white dress shirt with gold and onyx cuff links. After tying his red power tie, he put on the smoke gray pin-striped suit he wore from the office. With a huge smile on his face, he left through the front door knowing he passed the “by-the-light-of-day” test.
Chapter 02
Sioux Falls Police Chief, Mike Kenny thought he was dreaming of a ringing cell phone. The only problem was that he was dreaming of fly-fishing Spearfish Creek down stream from Cheyenne Crossing in the Black Hills of South Dakota. When ever he was fly-fishing his cell phone was turned off or left in the car. The cell phone quit ringing so he went back to trying to lure that big “lunker” of a Brown Trout out of his hiding place. The cell started ringing, again.
Mike opened one eye and spied the clock on his night stand. It read 4:12 AM. With the one eye open, he was awake enough to know that the cell phone that was ringing was his personal cell and not his official work cell. He wondered; “Who in the Hell would be calling me at this hour and especially on my personal phone? Only a handful of people have this number.”
He quickly slid out of bed, picking up the cell phone at the same time. He flipped it open and looked at the caller ID as he nearly ran out of the bedroom, making sure to quietly close the door behind himself. He scratched his head in complete confusion over why this particular friend would be calling him especially at this hour of the day if it wasn’t official police business.
He answered in a hoarse whisper; “Hey Brad, what’s going on at four in the morning? Is there a fishing stream you want me to meet you at?”
Brad, in an unusual hesitating voice, somberly responded; “Mike, I got a call this morning from one of our downtown divisions. Ah shit, Mike! There isn’t an easy way to tell you this, let alone describe it. They found Eileen’s niece in a shit-hole of an alley off Second Avenue, shortly after midnight. She was murdered by that psycho who’s been attacking the prostitutes in that area. Mike, she was in rough shape before this happened.”
Mike quickly woke up from the pleasant dream that lingered as he heard Brad speaking. Those words finally sunk in; “We’ll be over as soon as we can get there, Brad.”
“Mike, it’s a four and half hour drive. The ME has to complete the autopsy and most of all the shit is really going to hit the fan, starting with the Mayor’s office on down. Carol was victim number thirteen. Besides, Eileen is not going to want to see her in this condition. Why not come until after the official day is over. You’re going to be staying at our place. Joanie would not want it any other way.”
Mike responded, knowing what was going to happen regardless of what was said; “Thanks, Brad. We both know that Eileen is going to want to get there sooner rather than later. We’ll stop by your place. Say, Brad, do you remember Frank Ingram?”
“Yeah, why do you ask?”
“I can’t remember if I told you, that he quit the force and went into private practice with a college professor, Bob Johnson. I’m sure, you’ve heard of Johnson, Ingram Consulting.”
“I had no idea that he was that Ingram. And, you say that Johnson is a college professor; I would have never guessed. Obviously, they are good at what they do; I got their number from the FBI after victim number ten showed up.”
“I don’t want to be presumptuous; but with the heat that’s going be pouring down your back, you might want some fresh eyes that aren’t politically motivated. Bob keeps asking if we’ve found out anything about Carol on a regular basis. He became real close with Angie, Carol’s sister when she started college. I’ll lay odds this won’t cost your city a dime.”
“Coming from you, Mike, this is a much better recommendation than from the Feebs. For starters have them meet us at our home.”
Mike considered this request only briefly; “Better yet, get them three suites, connected or just across the hall from one another. We’ll meet them there. Our wives have no need to know all the gruesome details. They’ll probably arrive about the same time we show up at your door. They are very efficient.”
Brad chewed on that thought for a few moments before responding; “Okay, this is going to be unofficial, since as you say there won’t be a cost to the city. This way I won’t have to explain their presence. Uhm, how about you give them a retainer so they can officially say they are working for the family of the victim.”
“Brad, I can see your mind works much better at four in the morning than does mine. What can you tell me about these murders, except that they’re all prostitutes who ply Second Avenue?”
Brad heaved a heavy sigh gathering his thoughts before he replied; “That’s part of the problem; we don’t have much, Mike. After victim number five, the girls started talking to our detectives. Other than the hawkers, pimps and the street regulars (who they recognized), nothing unusual popped up or was seen. They did mention see a few odd balls; but those were singular events that could not be connected to any more than one event. It’s like this guy is a ghost. There is one that stood out with the most recent murder. There was a shifty character with a broad had who shuffled through the area avoiding contact with everyone along the way. He kept the brim of the hat pulled low over his eyes, so no one could give a good description.”
Mike asked the obvious; “So, we have someone who changes his appearance each time? How about times of day and patterns of the kills?”
Brad sighed, again; “That’s another problem, they’re all over the map. The only constant is the area. The times of day, you can pick any time and be right on; as for patterns. That is fairly consistent. He only attacks prostitutes and he uses a real sharp object to slit their throats. That is all we have. The lab has some stuff out of a dumpster; but so far they haven’t connected anything.”
Mike finalized the call; “Brad, we’ll be there by noon. I appreciate you calling as soon as you did. Please, call me as soon as you have the reservations for Frank, Bob and their group.”
“Will do, my friend. Sorry, I had to lay this on you.”
Chapter 03
Mike stumbled out of the bathroom and nearly rolled down the stairs. After his phone call with Brad, Mike knew that he needed a big, big cup of very black coffee. Before heading downstairs he made sure that Eileen was still sleeping. With the coffee brewing and after making sure their dog Maizie was on the outside of the door, he pushed Frank’s speed-dial number and pressed talk.
He hated making the next call, especially at the hour he had to make it. Mike knew that Frank was still mending after his last assignment along the border of Mexico and Arizona.
Frank answered on the first ring; “Wha cha callin me at hour for, Mikey?”
Mike knew immediately that Frank had not been to bed in a while; “I see you’re still up chasing your demons with your best friend Oban. By the way, are the stitches still mending?”
“Mike, you and I both know you didn’t call me – at this hour – to check up on my health, mental or physical. What’s on your mind?”
“Drunk or sober, I can never get anything pas you. I just got off the phone with Brad Higgins. Carol Loftswold was found in a back alley off Second Avenue in the city. It’s really ugly and I knew that you and Bob would want to know and be a part of what’s going down.”
Instantly, Frank sobered; “You damned right we do. We’ll be right over.”
Mike replied while letting Maizie back inside; “Give me a couple of hours and a hot shower; or at least time enough to break the news to Eileen.”
“Okay, Mike; it will take that long for all of us to get ready. We’re bringing everyone: Fast Eddie, Reggie, Niki, Gunter, Stefan and our new guy Rae-Jean.”
They both cut off the call at the same time Mike heard a real soft voice; “Break what to Eileen.” His heart sank to the floor.
Mike looked at Eileen with very sad eyes; “Boy, you’re good at pretending. Brad called just a few minutes ago.”
“Brad from the city? Did he want you to come try one of his new dry fly patterns at White Water River? It’s way too early in the morning for anything else.”
“I only wish it was for that reason. One of h is squads found Carol.’
Eileen nearly missed the chair at the kitchen table as she sat; “Michael Robert Kenney, you’re scaring me. What do you mean by found?”
Mike handed her a cup of the very black coffee with just the right amount of sugar and coffee creamer; “It ain’t pretty, Sweetie.”
“Don’t give me any of your Irish bullshit, Mike. I’m a big girl, so just tell met the details.”
“Here is what I know; one of their squads that prowls Second Avenue found her body in a back alley at the low end of the street. Someone had slit her throat; it was clean and it was quick. From what Brad was saying, she is now in a much better place than where she lived. Apparently, Carol was into some pretty nasty drugs – full blown, and was working the corner at a broken down bar to feed her habit. He also gave me a real brief on crime scene details. They’re the type of details that only cops need to know and not pertinent to who and what Carol was as a person. There is a real creepoid taking out the prostitutes who ply their trade in the area around Second Avenue.”
Eileen’s face turned white and her hands shook to where taking a sip of her coffee was impossible; “Pack your bags, Mike. We’re out of here in five minutes. I’ll call the Marriott from the car.” She hesitated; “What? What else is there, Mike? You’re holding something back.”
“We’re leaving after day light and Brad is insisting that we stay with him and Joanie. Bob and Frank’s crew is coming, too. I’m going to work with them until we get all the details and the person who killed her is either in jail or is chasing his demons in another dimension.”
“I want to go now; so go pack your bags.”
“We both need to clean up, brush our teeth and put on our faces. By that time, Bob and Frank will be knocking on our door. Tell you what; why don’t you jump in the shower and I’ll go dig out our suit cases. We can pack them as soon as we’re done with getting dressed.”
Eileen nodded and started to head toward their bedroom when she stopped; “What do you mean by working with Bob and Frank? Aren’t there jurisdictional issues you have to worry about? Besides you don’t want to be stepping on Brad’s toes.”
“Leenie, you been pestering me to retire. I’ve got nearly twenty-five years in at the P.D. And, you have mentioned several times that you’d like me to step away from all that political BS needed to keep the department running on a day-to-day basis. With this and what Brad said about all the political fall out that’s heading his way, I’m ready. Besides, Bob and Frank have spoken to us for some time about me helping them out on a part time basis – doing what I love, playing cops and robbers.”
Eileen couldn’t help but smile; “You stubborn old Irish fool, it took long enough for you to come to your senses.” She turned as he got close and wrapped her arms around his neck; “Let’s go get ready.”
Eileen was about to step out of her pajama when her cell phone that was still plugged in on the dresser rang. She looked at the caller ID and then the time. It was her sister, Erin. Eileen couldn’t believe that Carol’s mom would already be calling. She knew that Erin must have been woken by someone she knew in the city with the news. Eileen’s knees began to buckle, tears started to dribble and she really didn’t want to talk with her right then. But, she knew she had to; “Hi, Erin. What’s up?”
Between the heart breaking sobs and out-right wailing, Eileen made out; “Leenie, th-th-they f-f-found C-C-Carol. Th-th-the-they’re calling her a whore, Leenie. Mike’s gotta do sumptin about dis…”
Eileen let her run on for five minutes before cutting in as Erin’s slurring and stuttering became worse; “Oh, Erin. I am so sorry about this. Mike just got off the phone with Brad. We’re heading over to the city right now. I’m going to have Mary and Sam stop over. Erin, It’s best if you stay put until we know more.”
“I knew I could count on you and Mike. I just want to see my baby.”
Eileen hung up the phone and slumped on the bed. The phone slipped from her fingers, but Mike who was sitting next to her caught it before it hit the floor. They hugged and Mike let her shed the needed tears.
She finally let go of the tears. Eileen stood, wiped the residual tears from her eyes and told Mike in words that she never used and had banned from the house when their children were in elementary school; “We’re going to find that God-damned son-of-a-bitch and we’re going to cut his balls off. He fucked with the wrong family!”
Mike nearly fell over in shock; because he sworn in front of the most holy of holies and told them that Eileen would never stoop to using such language or to have such thoughts of doing violence against another human being. A smile crossed his lips and he turned away from Eileen heading to the bedroom door while biting his tongue to prevent a laugh from escaping. He did manage to say on the way out the door; “I’ll get the suit cases while you take a shower.”