Lady Justice and the Black Widow

by Robert Thornhill

  “Heck no I don’t mind. You’re a lot prettier than that other dude. C’mon in.”

  “Thank you.”

  He closed the door. “So what kind of questions? The other guy never asked me about when I was planning to go pro. How about that?”

  “No,” Jan said, taking a seat, “I wanted to talk to you about the girl you assaulted in your room.”

  DeRon bristled. “I ain’t talking about that! If that’s all you want, then you better get your lily white ass outta here. Better yet, how about I show you what that girl missed out on. Then you’d really have a story.”

  “No,” Jan said, pulling out her taser. “I’ve got a better idea, and this story will be a whole lot bigger than anything you’ve got.”

  “What the hell? Put that thing ---!”

  But it was too late. Jan pulled the trigger and the barbs flew across the room embedding themselves in Blackmon’s chest.

  He fell quivering to the floor.

  Jan finished the job just as she’d done with Senator Benjamin.

  When she was sure he was gone, she made sure she’d left no trace that she’d been there. Then she placed the Black Widow card on his chest.

  Satisfied, she headed to the door. She turned and smiled. “Sorry, DeRon, looks like you just fouled out!”

  CHAPTER 5

  Maggie and I were sitting in our reclining love seat holding hands and watching the X-Files when the program was interrupted by a breaking news bulletin.

  The scene was outside the Holiday Inn Express downtown. “We have just been informed that DeRon Blackmon, the basketball phenom, in town for the Big 12 Tournament, was found in his hotel room apparently the victim of a homicide. Blackmon was supposed to meet teammates for supper. When he didn’t show, they went to his room and found him dead. One of the teammates told us that a Black Widow card had been placed on his chest. Before police could secure the scene, Blackmon’s teammates took video footage on their cell phones and posted the footage on social media.

  “#Black Widow Strikes Again is trending on Twitter, and a similar Facebook post has already had over a million views.”

  At that moment, there was a knock on the door.

  It was Dad and Bernice. The two nonagenarians burst into the room. Dad was breathless. “Son, have you heard the news?”

  “If you’re talking about Blackmon, we just heard the bulletin.”

  Dad is a huge basketball fan. Me, not so much.

  He shook his head. “Unbelievable! Looks like it was the same person who iced Senator Benjamin. According to the reports we’ve heard, a girl accused Blackmon of assaulting her in his room. It looks like this Black Widow person was evening the score. Damn shame. That kid was the real deal.”

  “And he was a really good dribbler!” Bernice added.

  “Boot up your computer,” Dad said. “Apparently there’s a video going around. I’d like to see it.”

  I was curious too, so I booted up the old Toshiba.

  Sure enough, there it was. DeRon Blackmon sprawled on the floor with a Black Widow card on his chest, just like I’d found on Senator Benjamin.

  Detective Blaylock was undoubtedly having a hissy-fit. Not only had his crime scene been compromised, but the video was, without question, stirring up emotions both for and against the already notorious Black Widow.

  I talked to Ox again the next day. There was no doubt that both murders had been committed by the same person. Blackmon had been rendered unconscious by a taser and potassium chloride was the cause of death. As with the senator, nothing was found at the scene that could identify the killer.

  With all the publicity generated by the videos, the brass decided to hold a press conference in the afternoon to address the issues.

  I was anxious to hear what the captain would have to say.

  I thought about going to the conference in person but decided to watch it on the tube instead. That turned out to be a wise decision.

  The conference was to be held on the steps outside city hall. Hundreds of people had gathered, and it was evident that there was definitely a difference of opinion regarding the Black Widow. Some people carried placards with the words, ‘Stop the vigilante.’ Others carried placards praising the Black Widow.

  The thing that surprised me the most, was that in less than twenty-four hours, someone had T-shirts printed with the Black Widow spider emblem on the front, and the words, ‘You Go Girl!’ on the back.

  A few years ago, there had been a vigilante roaming the streets of Kansas City. That individual targeted scumbags who had somehow slipped through the cracks of the judicial system and were roaming free.

  Back then, the city was divided almost evenly. Many praised the vigilante for eliminating the lawless vermin from our streets, while others were appalled that one man would take the law into his own hands.

  Regardless of how a person feels about vigilantism, one thing is clear --- when a vigilante is roaming the streets, crime goes down.

  A perfect example is Bernhard Goetz in New York. In the 1980’s New York had a crime rate that was 70% higher than the rest of the United States. After Goetz gunned down four thugs who attacked him on the subway, the crime rate fell off dramatically. In the 1990’s New York ranked 194 out of 210 cities in violent crime, due at least in part to Goetz’s heroic stand.

  The same thing happened in Kansas City after it became known that someone was out there dispensing justice without due process.

  While waiting for the press conference to begin, the reporter interviewed people milling around in the crowd.

  Her first interview was with a woman sporting one of the new T-shirts.

  “It appears that you support the actions of the Black Widow.”

  “Hell yes I support her! It’s about time someone stood up for our gender. Throughout recorded history, men in power have used their positions of influence to subjugate, humiliate, and ravage women. No more! I hate that it’s had to come to this, but sometimes it takes something really radical to open people’s eyes. I’ll bet that as long as the Black Widow is out there, guys will think twice about groping, fondling, and forcing their attentions on innocent victims.”

  The reporter turned to a man carrying one of the ‘Stop the vigilante’ signs.

  “You heard the woman’s comments. How do you feel about all this?”

  “It’s frightening to think that someone is out there murdering people and folks are cheering her on. This isn’t the wild west of the 1800’s. Society only functions when there’s law and order. This is the work of one person. What happens when two, three, or more people decide to take the law into their own hands? Suddenly, you have anarchy, and no one is safe on our streets. I sympathize with what women have endured over the years, but this Black Widow vigilante is definitely not the answer.”

  At that moment the captain and Detective Blaylock came onto the podium. The crowd hushed as the captain stepped up to the mike.

  “Citizens of Kansas City, we don’t normally hold press conferences to discuss ongoing investigations, but the events of the past week are anything but normal. A state senator and a visiting ball player have been slain and evidence would indicate that both murders can be attributed to one individual.

  “There has been a great deal of speculation in the press and on social media. We believe the citizens of our city deserve to know what we know and what is being done to bring the perpetrator to justice.

  “Both victims were rendered unconscious by a taser, after which a poison was administered --- and yes, there was a Black Widow card left on both of the victims.

  “I can see that there are some of you in the crowd who support these vile acts. I’m sorry to see that. As far as the Kansas City Police Department is concerned, we are searching for an individual who has committed two heinous murders. No matter what the motive, murder is still murder. Someone out there has anointed themselves judge, jury and executioner. Let me be very clear --- lawlessness will not be tolerated in our city. The Kansas City
Police Department will devote all of its resources to bring this person to justice. Thank you.”

  Reporters fired questions, but the captain left the podium without responding. The police were going to have their hands full managing the unruly crowd.

  At that moment, I was glad I had retired and could watch the proceedings from the comfort of my own home.

  Jan had watched the press conference as well.

  Her mouth flew open when she saw the T-shirts and the number of people supporting the Black Widow.

  She also saw those who wanted her behind bars.

  The police captain had made it very clear that bringing her in was their highest priority. She would have to tread carefully.

  She also saw her friend, Derek, on the podium. He looked worn and tired. If she had any regret, it that she was putting someone she admired through a difficult time.

  After the news conference, there was an interview with DeRon Blackmon’s mother. Naturally she was distraught. Any mother would be. She kept moaning, “I don’t understand. DeRon was a good boy. Why would anyone do this?”

  Jan wondered if his mother new how he behaved when he had a woman alone in his room. She also wondered if some of the remorse was due to the fact that now there wouldn’t be the millions coming to the Blackmon family from a fat NBA contract.

  There was also an interview with his coach. There had been talk of cancelling the tournament, but that definitely wasn’t going to happen.

  “It was discussed,” the coach said, “but we knew DeRon loved the game and would want us to go on. We’ll all be playing to honor DeRon’s memory.”

  Right! she thought. Hundreds of people renting hotel rooms. Hundreds of meals bought in area restaurants. Hundreds of drinks bought in bars after the games. There was no way that tournament was being cancelled.

  As she clicked off the TV, she wondered how she had become so cynical.

  She also wondered what her old philosophy professor would think if he knew what a monster he had created.

  CHAPTER 6

  I had just finished my second cup of coffee and the morning paper when there was a knock on the door.

  It was my friend and maintenance man, Willie, from the basement studio apartment.

  “Mornin’ Mr. Walt. You got time to talk?”

  “Absolutely. Come on in.”

  I could tell from the look on his face that something was wrong.

  “What’s on your mind, Willie?”

  “Somebody out dere is killin’ people.”

  “Are you talking about the Black Widow?”

  “No, not her. Dat Widow person is killin’ famous dudes. Someone else is killin’ hookers. Ever’body hears about the rich folks gettin’ murdered, but nobody cares how many hookers are dead.”

  He was right. I hadn’t heard a thing. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Charlene came by last night. Tole me another street gal had been killed. Dat’s de third one in two weeks. She an’ the other girls are scared to go out now.”

  Years ago, Willie had operated on the wrong side of the law. After years as a con man and grifter, he gave up the life and started working for me as the maintenance man for the dozens of rental units I owned. When I retired from real estate and sold my rental units, Willie sort of retired too. He now lives rent-free in the basement studio for taking care of this three-story building and the Three Trails Hotel which, unfortunately, I still own.

  Although Willie has been on the straight and narrow all these years, he has maintained ties with many of the street people. These contacts have proven, on several occasions, to be very helpful in bringing some really bad people to justice.

  Charlene is a prostitute. She is also a very nice person. She has helped us on several cases and even joined us for Thanksgiving dinner one year. My friends and I have learned not to be judgmental, and to accept people for who they are and not what they do to survive.

  “Did she tell you anything else?”

  “De three women, Jade, Inez, and Roxy, were jus’ workin’ like they do ever’ night. Some john picks ‘em up, cuts ‘em up, an’ den, late at night, leaves dere bodies on de street where dey usually work. An’ dat’s not all. Ever’ one had their pinky finger cut off. Dis sick dude is takin’ trophies.”

  “That’s terrible! No wonder your friends are scared to death.”

  I wasn’t surprised I hadn’t heard anything. With Senator Benjamin and DeRon Blackmon all over the front page, a dead hooker story would have been buried somewhere in the back if reported at all.

  “Let me make a call. I’ll see if Ox has heard anything.”

  I dialed my ex-partner. “Ox, Walt here. Willie is with me. He’s just told me about some prostitutes who have been murdered. Do you know anything about that?”

  “Sure do. At the morning briefing, we were told that a third victim had been found last night. Same M.O. as the previous two. Looks like we have two serial killers roaming the Kansas City streets. All of them were found on Independence Avenue between Paseo and Benton Boulevard.”

  “Any leads?”

  “Nope. No sexual assault which is kinda strange given the women’s occupation, no DNA, and guess what --- the creep cuts off their pinky finger.”

  “Yeah, Willie told me. Thanks for the info. If you hear anything else, let me know.”

  “Will do.”

  I turned to Willie. “Any ideas?”

  He shook his head. “I was hopin’ you’d have one.”

  “Maybe I do,” I replied. “Let’s pay a visit to Louie the Lip.”

  Louie was another of Willie’s cohorts from the old days. Louie was still a grifter, but in his seventies, his grifting days were almost over. Like Charlene, more than once he had helped us crack some difficult cases. Unlike the younger set who seemed to have no moral compass, there were lines that Louie would not cross. I admired him for that. He came by his moniker honestly. He had a lower lip that Mick Jagger would envy.

  We found Louie at his favorite hangout, the Blue Moon Bar and Grill.

  Willie and Louie did that hand-slap, fist-bump thing that cool guys do. Louie knew that I’d never mastered it, so we just shook hands.

  “Wot brings you boys by?

  “I think you know,” Willie replied. “Charlene came by an’ tole me ‘bout de girls. I’m sorry. I know dey was yo’ friends.”

  “Dey was,” Louie said, trying to hold back the tears. “Damn shame. Dey didn’ deserve to die like dat.”

  “Any idea who was responsible?” I asked

  “Wish we did,” he replied. “If we knew, we’d take care of de bastard ourselves. De cops sure ain’t gonna spend a lot o’ time what with dat Black Widow thing goin’ on. You heard de captain on TV. They goin’ after her but don’t give a damn how many street girls die.”

  “I might have an idea,” I said. “I assume you know most of the working girls and their pimps.”

  He nodded. “How does dat help?”

  “I’m thinking we set up a sting. This creep has killed three times. I doubt he’s going to stop there. Ox tells me that the dead girls were working Independence Avenue between Paseo and Benton. We can’t watch everyone, but if you could get all the girls off the street except one, we could control the situation. We could wire the girl, watch and wait, and if the creep picks her up we could take him before he has time to do his dirty work.”

  He thought for a moment. “Dat might work. I know I can get de others to cooperate. What’s goin’ on is bad for business. Who you got in mind fo’ de decoy?”

  I turned to Willie. “How about Charlene?”

  “She’ll do it. Inez, Jade, an’ Roxy were her friends. She’d love to nail the s.o.b. who cut ‘em up!”

  The morning briefing and doling out of assignments was going as Jan had suspected it would. Priority was given to the Black Widow murders and of course, the juiciest assignments had gone to the editor’s favorites.

  Then Chris Carnes turned to one of the reporters on the crime beat. “
Dan, one of our sources at the downtown precinct has reported that the body of another prostitute was found last night on Independence Avenue. That’s the third one in two weeks. Check it out. We might have a second serial killer out there. Oh yeah, another juicy tidbit --- the perp is cutting off the victim’s pinky finger. Could be a good story for page 2.”

  That got Jan’s attention. So far, the Black Widow had been targeting men who used their power and influence to weasel their way out of sexual assault accusations. What she just heard was far worse. While she didn’t condone what those women were doing, they certainly didn’t deserve to be murdered and mutilated. This was definitely a job for the Black Widow.

  She knew that Dan would get the police reports on the three murders. She watched, and when he left for lunch she made copies of the reports.

  The M.O. was the same in all three murders and definitely pointed to a serial killer targeting prostitutes along Independence Avenue.

  That night, and every night until this defiler of women was caught, there would be one more woman on Independence Avenue, watching and waiting.

  We were ready to go.

  Louie had contacted the hookers and pimps who plied their trade along the Avenue, told them of our plan, and asked them to stand down until the killer was caught. They readily agreed.

  As Willie predicted, Charlene was more than ready to take down the man who had killed her friends.

  I had contacted Kevin and enlisted his help.

  Our plan was simple. Charlene would be wearing a wire. We would be able to hear everything that was going on. She would work her regular corner on Independence Avenue. If she was picked up and was either in trouble or suspected that she was with the murderer, she would say the ‘safe word’ and we would move in.

  We decided to use the old ‘sandwich’ ploy. Louie and Willie would be in one car, Kevin and I in another. Once we got the word, Louie would pull in front of the perp while Kevin and I crept up behind. Once we had him ‘sandwiched in,’ the four of us, armed of course, would converge on the vehicle. We figured four to one odds were pretty good.