by Jamal Shakur
Ch 7
Tuesday 8:30
It was rush hour and traffic was moving at a good klip, there was no sign of road rage but the drivers looked aggravated just the same. Sara Goodnight was on her way to her part-time job at the bakery. She hadn’t work to long at her present position but having something to do, the children shouting and acting crazy at home was a welcome relief. There was a police motorcycle following behind her with its siren blaring, what the heck, did I do wrong, she thought to herself.
“Can I see your license and registration please, Mamm?”
Sara handed the officer her credentials he feigned perusing her information and said, “I’m goanna let you go with a warning, the next time beware.” As he said this he raised his left hand in a swooping position which held his weapon a Ninja Assassin Kyoketshu-Shogei Knife which was a knife with a chain hook on its handle. After slightly slicing her neck ear to ear just to subdue her, he pulled her out the car and proceeded to use his garrote to reinforce his signature as a thuggie killer. He left a note on the body addressed to Lomax which ends on a cryptic note stating that this would be only the beginning of his onslaughts. I felt that this animal was just getting into his stride; I’ve had my experience with killers who have patterned themselves after historical figures or organizations. This guy seems to have an affinity for the thuggie cult of a couple of hundred years ago who killed people as a religious obligation. They were reported to have killed thousands and to match their success we have to be prepared for more and more killings.
I was burning a candle at literally both ends, first I was the lead detective in two cases and I was also the medical examiner, it had its advantages and disadvantages, the latter was more of an advantage. But my captain decided to let Inspector Miles look more into the suicide murders, I of course would assist her in the coroner’s office. Bodies had seemed to pile up at the office; I was a perfectionist so it was my duty to look at all of these cadavers on my own. I had separated the thuggie case and suicide murders into different rooms. I guess I was hoping to departmentalize the cases thereby giving it some type of order, making it an easier task for me.
“Hey Lucky you have a lady outside who wants to talk to you, and she’s a looker man.” My assistant at times exaggerated but this time his statements were not an embellishment. Sara Davenport was directed to my office; needless to say I wasn’t accustomed to having visitors to the morgue not unless they were relatives are friends of the deceased that were there to identify the recently deceased bodies. She looked extraordinary, a mixture of old money and sex. She was dressed in a short skirt that hugged her body and a slit the side of the dress that seemed to go up forever. I was enamored by her and she could tell by the look in my eyes.
“Detective Lomax it’s been a long time, I haven’t been informed about your looking into the disappearance of my husband, remember?” I was amazed that she followed up the whole subject with me, there were no moneys collected to take her case and it was a matter of record that I gave up on the idea of private investigation to return to my job as homicide detective and coroner.
I was amazed that she didn’t take the hint that I wasn’t on the case any longer, and said “Mrs. Davenport while I sympathize with your dilemma, I thought you knew that I wasn’t taking your case any longer I didn’t take any money from the account you set up for me and don’t want to use a cliché but I have too much on my plate at this moment, l am sure you heard of the Ripper serial murders.”
She stared at me with a glint of anger in her eyes and said, “While I know of your other obligations you gave me your word and agreed to taking my case, I believed you as a man of honesty and took you for your word and as far as the account is concerned I never look at finances, normally my accountant does that task.” She was right I did agree to take her case, “Look I can’t take you on fulltime but I can look in on your husband’s disappearance part-time.” And then she said something remarkable and I can see why the rich remain in their financial state. “I’m thankful for your help but seeing as you’re part-time then I would assume you would take half of the agreed upon payment.” She said with authority and coldness .
Ch 8
Apocalypse Then
I returned to continue looking into John Davenport’s old haunts but I had one advantage now, I was a homicide detective again. It has been postulated in each epoch of history, it was said that meteors passed by first. When the dinosaurs craned their long necks toward the skies they envisioned a sight they didn’t understand. As the tail slid and disappeared into the stratosphere it was either the beginning or end of an era. In each mans primitive narration the meteor stamped its premature death.
The young just elected president was hop scotching from city to city starting on the east coast visiting US landmarks. In the most silly and politically opportunist way, he approached each place, he would first enter the building and extend his index finger to the reporters and crowd and proceed in this fashion until he reached the number four. He did this on every stomp of the political road that he traveled in. He proceeded to the West Coast and begins his march into Mesa Arizona. “Did you see that?” someone in the group shouted. It was a shiny incandescent meteorite that streamed across the sky; it was low-key but very clear to the naked eye. After entering another building and going though the same process in similar cities he visited on the east coast. Suddenly some young teens jumped out of a large black explorer. They were dressed similar to the Hare Krishna’s, but they were definitely not of that cult. The behavior was too main stream, the get high crowd and not very religious. One of them seem to be in control and started what appeared to be a proselytizing move, and said “Sir have you heard the news of the upheaval and the end of things as we know them.” Someone in the President’s group responded and said, “What are you talking about the meteorites.” “What the devil do you mean meteors”, He said.
Justin Douglas was an anthropologist and a body language expert which was an ironic oxymoron, one would guess if you couldn’t read the life of the dead of the past he couldn’t read those who live right in his midst. He developed a novelty act where he read the personalities of peoples in his classroom where he taught the subject. His classroom often was held in the outside under the sunny sky of Arizona in the University of Arizona’s football field. Suddenly he noticed a blue light in the sky. The miraculous event was seen by almost the entire world. One man took this as a prophetic word to commit murder and he would start immediately. However Lomax had the same idea but going in the opposite direction. I seen this sign and took it as a means to do well by tracking down as many perps as I possibly could. They would all be out the wood work looking for an excuse to commit murder. The strange thing about these kinds of criminals is that their high IQ’s weren’t utilized to help mankind but it was used to hurt and injure in the most extreme ways. Henry Wyatt had left his good works to the analyses of detective Lomax but the sign given him meant that he had to do something more spectacular then he had already done. Wyatt’s rampage of mayhem began in the suburbs of the city where he murdered three women and in the city of Philadelphia he killed three more. This was unheard of; he had killed more individuals at one time more than any serial killer had ever done.
It was at this moment of an epochal timing that something occurred that Lomax didn’t expect to happen. He was immersed with the case at hand and two others that he couldn’t get a line on. There was something new on his desk but old at the same time. There were unsolved murders sitting right in front of him with a letter attached from the so-called murderer.
It happen in 1999, five young men were decapitated in the section of Philly called Old City, some were gay and some weren’t but at the height of uproar about the killings the perpetrator disappeared and not until now twelve years later does he reappear. I picked up the letter, I was reluctant to give it a reading, it was the same diatribe but read it I must. He begins the letter saying, hello my good friend it’s been a long time. I have returned from hiat
us to bring closure to my master piece work, I have taken the meteor apparition as a sign to return. There is only one mastermind of murder in this realm and I will soon prove it. It was an excuse, the same excuse insane men have often used for holy passages from other religious inspired books. The meteor was a chance for all the madness to appear and to be excused for the sign of the last days. Though the letter was ominous, he didn’t commit any murders as of yet, so I decided to stick to the investigations that were in front of me. I would only look into this fool when he actually did commit a murder.
I also received another message from the so-called Ripper / Thuggie. What was this murderer contact today? His communication was kind of unique reminiscent of the Matrix movie. He sent me a telephone by UPS hand delivery, it was weird but I listen to the fool on the other end to no avail.
“I am the thuggie of the past and the present, I am no random fool or narcissist as you have stated in your profile to the public, but my friend, I have only one thing to tell you. I have just begun.” He laughed as his voice trailed off and dissipated.
Ch 9
It was an exceptionally hot day for April, it was 90 degrees, was this a byproduct of the meteor? However, one thing of a surety people was taking this aberration as an excuse to riot and commit criminal attacks. We were busy at the precinct; hence we were stretched to the max which was seeping into homicide. I had to share some of my men which left my force wanting to deal with our own work.
I hadn’t been to the psychiatrist that the police brass had authorized me to attend in weeks but it was a necessary visit. His office was drab and if you were a depressed patient the surrounding would make you more depressed than you already were. The doctor was someone that I was already familiar with outside the office since he was the father of State Senator Karl McDonald who was still laying on one of the slabs in the morgue. He was murdered about a month ago and there weren’t any leads to be found. He stared at me with that look which was half professional and the other half pure emotional and unprofessional. “I see by your appearance you seem happy, are you? “ He said.
I said, “I try to adjust and take every day as something different to deal with but I don’t know if you could or would call it happiness, I guess I would call it functionality. There is a hole where the missing part is Mia but I try to cope and deal exclusively with the rearing of my two children.”
“Your answers seemed contrived and thought out before you got here for your appointment. While here it would be better for you if you were more spontaneous. I’m recommending something pharmaceutical for you. If by your own admissions you are just functioning than you need something extra to help you. I ‘m recommending a small dose sedative for you, don’t worry it shouldn’t affect your ability as a police detective.” While I listened to his assessment I didn’t agree with him. He had too many ulterior motives, one is that he thought I was not looking hard enough into his son’s murder but that’s neither here nor there.
I was heading up the highway back to my fortress of solitude, the streets were crowded with people going berserk, I was transfixed on one guy in a crowd of thousands who had a crow bar in his hand and proceeded to smash a window right there on downtown Chestnut Street. It was surreal, there was no one around to stop him, there were just too many of them. Normally I would just stop and jump out my car to try and stop them but it was an unofficial word handed down from the top brass not to confront a crowd if you’re alone and there’s too many of them. It was madness and people were smashing and taking things like they were going Christmas shopping. The so-called prophets of doom and the internet had played this event up as if it were the end of the world, some people had gave away their riches while some took what didn’t belong to them ,this was sheer madness.
I reached the police station in a long drive that would normally be a very short one. I saw the hanger-on’s who were there to see our responses to the uproar and nihilist action of the citizenry. But inside our domain things were normal as ever. Omar was sitting stoically at his desk and nodded at me on my way in, and I did likewise. “You know since all that hell is breaking loose, things have been quiet along the serial killer front.” He announces, with a sound of relief.
I said, “Don’t get to relaxed, from experience I’ve noted that you can’t tell when these crazies will strike again.” “Hey you guys in homicide look there’s something on TV that might interest you,” said the uniform that was almost out of breath. “We have a tape message from the so-called Ripper,” said the newsman. The video came on with bold white letters scrolling across the screen, that said;
“The first angel sounded: and hail and fire, mingled with blood, and they were thrown to the Earth; and a third of the trees were burnt up, and all green grass was burned up. He signed it with the great seal of the dollar bill. “He briefly showed his face on the screen which was covered by a monk’s hood and that was it.
“What the hell was that about, did anyone know what he was referencing in the quote he used at the beginning,” I said. “I believe that’s from the bible, Revelation: 8:7 to be exact, he said,” while thumbing through a pocket sized bible.
“Damn, thank you Om, I didn’t know you had it in you.” I said laughing.
“That’s how life is, pearls of wisdoms come from the strangest places,” he said with a smirk. The message was delivered prematurely; there were two bodies found in one home in the suburbs, both had their necks cut and the thuggie rope used on them just like the others. I rushed to the residence. The street was one of those blocks that were scenic and quiet, too quiet. One of these bodies was strange in appearance; she didn’t go with the surroundings. “I think this second body was moved here, she’s obviously a street walker from which the perpetrator moved here with the woman who already lives here.” I said.
It was plain to see that killers were coming out of the woodwork believing that they had some type of messianic license for the task at hand. Between the everyday Joe and the crazies murdering people we had our hands filled and was waiting for the next shoe to drop and this recent killing was really the mother of all dropped shoes. What was he trying to prove? Was it that he could kill in multiples without worrying about being caught? It was obvious that he was mocking us. But eventually he would be caught because I’ve learned over and over again that when an unsub has to increase his killing activities, he’s asking to be caught because if that was the case he wouldn’t be so careless.
Ch 10
There was madness everywhere and there was only one place of solitude and peace for me was home. I had moved the children and Momma out into the farthest part of suburbs as I could; somewhere that I and my family would go unnoticed. Hence, the recent skirmishes with killers and my family’s security were of the utmost importance. I inched slowly up the street to my home, a habit that I developed from past incursions. Duce was in the driveway practicing his jump shot; he was 6ft 4 now and was recruited by some of the major universities in the nation. I also spied out my daughter May who was the splitting image of her mother Mia. I walked slowly up the driveway and Duce gave me a nod , I was expecting something more of a warmer salutation but he was at the age where manhood was a attitude of hardness but Mia opened the door and ran up to me wrapped her arms around my neck which almost knock me to the ground. “Wow girl you’re getting to heavy for your old dad”, I said while trying to catch my breath. “Come on in the house old man,” she said sarcastically.
I could smell the aroma of down home cooking in the house. Big Momma was in the kitchen standing over a hot stove cooking to her heart content and singing one of her favorite gospel songs. “Lord Jesus, boy you finally came home, is this visit or permanent stay?” Do you have some kind of crises brewing; you only come home when someone has died, are we in danger? ” “No, Momma I just wanted to come home.” “I know when you here you’re not really here , if that makes any sense to you but reading the paper , I see it’s another one and with you there’s always another one and until you can sto
p coming here to receive peace about what you are about to do then we your family will receive peace.” I was annoyed with her little soliloquy, however she was right. I have lost so much, Mia and my niece the later murdered by a madman but I had to continue this lifestyle and I craved for it like a drug and like crack it was better than sex and just like a booty call my phone started vibrating no doubt it was the precinct, I had to return. Momma gave me a stare that could rock the soul of any normal human but I’ve seen that look before.
I jumped into the jeep which I parked at the south end of the block to give me easy access to leave quickly. Even though, I lived a substantial distance from center city, I arrived at HQ in a quick klip. Detective Miles, Joanne Travis and the big body of Omar Johnson was half way blocking the door way of the audio visual room where we held our conferences for the homicide division. Detective Miles headed the meeting which was unusual because I normally headed up the conferences. “We have received something in the outgoing mail box which was kind of unusual; it was delivery of DVD’s that were from all three unsubs.” “I would think they are all actually working together in some sort of way,” I announce
