Last Thuggie BookI: The Ripper a Triology (book1)

by Jamal Shakur

  The thuggie, suicide killer were all enclosed in this small little envelope. He hadn’t contact us in at least a dozen years, the suicide murder doesn’t contact at all but this Ripper / thuggie guy is always in contact. “It sounds like the Ripper is the dominant personality while the other two follow his commands. My theory is that we treat each murder as a separate entity and combine the information when there seems to be a pattern that unifies the murders together. I think on the bulletin board, we will separate the causalities into different grouped categories, I only suggest doing it this way to alleviate confusion even though they are working together as we assume.”

  We pop one of the three DVD’s into the DVD player. I don’t know if it was coincidental but the Ripper was the first DVD, it was almost the same harangue that he sent to the TV station a slight variation but the same crap, we quickly dispatched that viewing and went on to the number two recording. It was strange but there wasn’t anything earth shaking about any of the info, it totally confused me, on each tape was some trivial about the dollar bill with the word Clue scrolling across the screen with the seal of the dollar bill showing and stating the term "E PLURIBUS UNUM", a Latin phrase meaning "Out of many [states], one [nation. What did this all mean? “To my thinking he hasn’t anything original to say so he’s trying to confuse, lead us on some wild goose chase, while he just indiscriminately kills all over the city. Looking at how he’s using the E Pluribus Unum and the confusion of the tapes suggests to me that there is only one killer the Ripper and all of these suggestions of three killers are just a smoke screen.” I said.

  Omar stared at me with his customary glance that could kill a thousand lives and said, “So we could look forward to murders in the near future while he flees across the map, to make us believe that he is more than one guy?”

  Ch 11

  Dr John Sinclair began his life as a doctor when he came out the womb , maybe not that far back but it’s been so long that he had became a surgeon that it seem to be that long ago. He had doting parents but his mother was a bit of a whore. Every man married and unmarried in his neighborhood had tasted of her wares. For twenty years it might have been unusual but she was an at home prostitute or as someone referred to her, a professional call girl. Hence, she was an embarrassment to the family. For a time he was the only one that knew of her extracurricular activity. But as every secret sin is concerned it became known and he was abruptly sent away to Texas to be raised by his grandparents. He became an introvert and delved deeply into his studies. He graduated at the top of his class in high school, college and then finally in medical school. As a surgeon he was the best but he had baggage and to his sick thinking, the only way to rid him of this baggage is to eliminate all the whores who pollute society.

  His vacation in India was an eye opener; he was fascinated with the cult of Khali, the Thuggies, Sinclair researched all things that dealt with the cult, the weapons and literature he amassed over a ten year period overlaps from his home office to his living room. The stressor that started his sojourn was his mother’s untimely death at the hands of the AIDS virus. He had begun his service to remove the dirt of mankind from his path and nothing could stop him. He was happy at the beginning of what he called his good work, until that bastard as he called him Detective Lomax got involved. His job was becoming harder and harder and some of his whores had been substituted by everyday women but in war there is sometimes is collateral damage.

  To the untrained eye his jobs of mayhem seem horribly sloppy but he took painstaking care to plan and formulate his masterpieces as he called them, some of which he planned for two weeks at a time. He watched the next victim and wrote down their routes and every move they made. He had to increase the number of vics sometimes two at a time since they were putting pressure on him, he would supply a street walker and housewife, yin and yang or good and evil a scrumptious paradox, he laughed to himself at the perverse thought of it all . Carol Night was a mother of three and after dropping her husband off at the suburban train station and then the kids at school she was home alone to cleanup and had little time to herself and that was very little time at that. She felt as though something strange was about to happen, she always has the feeling when something terrible was about to occur. There was sudden tapping at the door. She looked through the peep hole and a well dressed middle age man and a tacky dressed woman was on her front steps. She said, “Can I help you”.

  “We represent the home security company of America,” the man shouted. Sinclair knew that suburbanite’s were always worried about security so this was a good way to get inside. The door slowly cracked and then she opened up wide, she was a fool like most Americans, he thought to himself, so worried about security but so easy to mislead. Carol looked them both up and down thoroughly; she noted that they were an odd pair. The man had the appearance of good upbringing and professionalism while the woman had the aura and odor of street life whiffing from her very being. The woman suddenly spoke out, “Look Poppy, I don’t know what kinda freaky three ways shit you want with this bitch but you have to pay my fee up front.”

  “Shut the fuck up bitch,” he said as he slaps her with a backhand that sent her flying across the dining room floor. “Now wait a minute what the hell is going on here,” Carol shouts.

  “What we have here is my business, I will run this shit now and since you fool headedly let me in you’ll going to be in for something special.” Sinclair said with a sneer. Carol eyes bugged out of her head, she looked at the front door thinking of a mad dash to freedom and safety but it was too late. Sinclair grabbed the latch attaching it to its lock and put on all three locks. “We’re going to play a game; first you will remove your clothes down to your skivvies both of you, now.” The woman was modest and bashful about taking her clothes off in front of perfect strangers but not the professional whore that accompanied Sinclair; she took off each article of clothing with a smile and sort of flair as if she has been doing this kind of action for years. “I have something to show you look at the picture I have on my phone, “said Sinclair. It was the picture of the Indian God Khali, a figure with six arms and long talon teeth; in each one of her hands she held a decapitated head.

  Now the show begans, he first placed his hand around the hooker’s neck and squeezed with all his might, she was grasping for breath but life was slowly leaving her body, “look closely you bitch, look at my master piece; you’ll being privileged and picked to observe a God in the making. And look she did, it was frightening to her but fascinating to look at even though she was in complete shock. He held her neck with one hand and proceeded to place the noose on her neck to give his favorite signature the garrote from which he finished her off with. She collapsed and was dead.

  Ch 12

  I try to be a normal father and participate in some of my children’s extracurricular activities. This activity was my son Duce’s basketball game. He was really good; he was tearing up the opposition. There wasn’t any trash talking are beating his chest but he gave the competition respect while he took his time to slowly dissect their game. It was the third quarter and I was happy the kill joy of a phone didn’t go off to call me to a murder scene. My son looked up to where I was sitting every fifteen minutes to make sure I was still there. I hope that was the case but ring the phone did and I had to answer it, I left for the murder scene, and I hoped that Duce would forgive me. Duce’s school was in Montgomery Township, about fifteen miles from the murder scene. Just the last two murders, had been in the suburbs. I arrived at the crime scene in about twenty minutes after receiving the call. The area was already taped off with yellow caution tape. Even though this was the suburbs the looky-lu’s were all out crowding the outside of their homes. I tried not to think the way civilians think just because this is a nice home nothing like this happens here but on the contrary, things like this does happen here. I stepped gingerly into the house, with the exception of the tape and blood streaking across the floor it was a scenic neat home. Detective Miles and Omar
was already there. “So what do we have here,” I said. Omar answered in his abbreviated way he normally speaks, “Two dead bodies and a lot of blood”.

  I would have to look around for myself to get a better idea as to the damage; his assessments are sometimes too short to make a good story as to what happened. The first thing I noticed , the female that didn’t live here was not bought here already dead but was murdered on the scene, we ran her picture and prints and discovered on the scene that she was a hooker , the vic that lived at the residence we identified from the family photo’s displayed on the shelves. “So why did he bring a live person to the party,” said Miles. “I think the vic was here to be the audience,” I said.

  “Why couldn’t the hooker have been the audience?” said Omar.

  “ I think because of his hatred for hookers that more than likely the straight woman would be the audience and the hooker would be the first vic and notice she was killed differently , she was shot one time point blank in the temple, which would mean she wasn’t the focal point of his madness. To his warp way of thinking, the bullet to the head was merciful rather than the strangling he had in store for his main Vic, “I finally said.

  The only other strange occurrence in the room that stood out was the lap top in the middle of table. I shook the mouse and what was showing astounded everyone. The screen was reflecting everything that was going on in the crime scene. Suddenly Detective Miles shouted, “ Hey it looks like we’re viral, the whole crime scene has been on the internet since we arrived here, according to our techs the web site has receive over a million hits since this morning.”

  I shut the lap top down after disengaging the camera. This guy has all of sudden desired as much attention as he can get. Which, threw me for a loop, when he first began it was a secret but now he wants everyone to know. He’s taking chances; transporting vic’s to different areas of the city in broad daylight. We were back at HQ gathering all of the info from the crime scene. We watched the viral tape from the internet. Every word that we said and the investigative techniques that we employed were advertised for everyone to see. The conference room was jam pack with investigators. I was at the podium to answer all questions and theories I had developed, the captain was sitting at the back and so was the deputy mayor. Hence, everyone from the low man on the totem pole to the top brass of the city was present. It was ironic but when the hookers who plowed their trade on the city streets were murdered no one cared. However, suburban mothers are affected now so everyone is in an uproar. I began and said, “The perpetrator is a white male age 40 to 45 years old, he’s someone with some type of surgical experience, and he’s either a doctor or someone who has some type of knowledge dealing with a scalpel. He is an egomaniac and he is someone who enjoys the attention of the public and the police. This can be qualified by his going viral and having the crime scene all over the internet.”

  The deputy mayor looked confused but that’s not so surprising since he was a civilian and didn’t really understand the reasoning behind police work , he said, “ I read your report, why did this guy who went almost underground after each killing all of a sudden what’s an audience?” “Because he is starting to enjoy killing and part of the enjoyment is having others join in his handiwork, “I said.

  It appeared as though he understood my answer; but he seemed more perplexed than he did before he asked the question. I had a few more irrelevant questions. Some answers I hate to say it wouldn’t be answered until he kills again. The conference was over and we cleared the room, the four of us in the lead investigation was the only ones left in the room.

  “I think that went well,” I said out loud laughing. Omar rolled his eyes at me and said, “Yea and that’s why the deputy Mayor was having a heart attack listening to your answers.”

  Our tech guy had discovered that the killer’s online sojourn was not the beginning; he had a blog online that corresponded with people who were interested in the subject of murder and to my way of thinking that was sick. The crew, Denise, Joanne Travis, Omar and I went down to the basement where our main tech guy did his thing. Karl Ranger was a former computer tech worker for the BAU of the FBI. He was a short squat very heavy set man but he was considered top notch in his area of computer science. The place was dark and dank and looks more like a dungeon but he loved it down here mainly because he was the only one down here and it was obvious he wasn’t a people person. The department was hard up for cash and didn’t hire anyone else and besides, this guy was such a genius, he could handle present cases and the small amount of back log that came across his desk. He was hyper I guess as a result of all the coffee he was drinking and said, “Hi, Lomax, have I got something juicy for you, It’s a video web, it’s not that sophisticated, you just simply click on his icon and, ‘wala’ there’s his screen with different highlighted hyperlinks that leads you to a page of each of his selected murders.”

  All the murders that were attributed to him were right here too be perused online. Each photograph was taken by a camera phone and downloaded to his web page. It wasn’t an elaborate web site with a lot of bells and whistles. But it got to the point, and the point was to give the voyeurs’ of murder and mayhem something to peek at. The hyperlink was the figure of Kali which was the main belief system of the Ripper, there was no surprise there. Ranger also found a surprise that we didn’t take in account. All the murders that were taken inside the homes of the vics were covered by a hidden camera of the perpetrator, so he’s been watching us for a long time.

  Ch 13

  John Henry Davenport III had flown under the radar for a long time, the only one that was slightly worried about his whereabouts was his wife and she was only concerned because of public opinion, so how would it look if the wife of one of the riches black families in Philadelphia wasn’t concerned about his disappearance. He was under the radar but was living it up, he had met Juan Cortez in the 90’s and that was the best time and hookup in his life. He had an enormous appetite for drugs and women which were satisfied by his relationship with Cortez. The strippers and whores that Cortez controlled had a little game where they drug fed their Johns and kept his organization going, he didn’t take note of the numerous suicides he only wanted the residual benefits of his hook up. This was marvelous to him but it was a situation where Cortez couldn’t trust, him. Simply put he had nothing to lose and was very rich, he could turn him in and move on with his life. This made him a dangerous obstacle that might have to be eliminated.

  One of the customer’s favorite was Bang Bang Sanchez; she was a busty attractive sleazy woman, the kind John’s loved. She was instructed by Cortez to the job she had been doing to others for the last ten years. It was easy she partied with John all night, his drug of choice was cocaine but this night it was mixed with the zombie drug which she liberally applied to her ample breast. He snorts the coke and Scopolamine or the Zombie drug as it was called on the streets off her generous breast. After about an hour of this action he was more pliable to do everything she commanded. She opened the window wide and stared at him with a lovely smile and simply said jump. He thought it was a game and simply jumped from out the fifteenth floor window. His head aimed straight to the sidewalk like a rocket crashing and decapitating his head as he landed. My time was spread out between the morgue and homicide division. I was so well stretched out and stressed out that any addition to my plate would send my world spiraling but I loved it. The phone nearly blasted off my hip; it was Omar, “Hey you better get down here quick, it looks like that guy you were searching for, Davenport, took a header out the window.”

  It didn’t take me long to get there, the incident happened cross town in a sleazy apartment. There were about ten cruisers and two cars from homicide already there. All the looky-lu’s were already there. Caution tape surrounded the building and blowing every which way in the breezy spring day. It was one of the warmest days in May but quite breezy to say the least. It was a gruesome scene, the body was covered but the sidewalk was covered with blood a
nd guts for almost a half a block. Omar was standing out front and was trying to get my attention. “Hey this is a bad one, the guys head was decapitated and landed clear across the street, we identified him from his finger prints,” he said glumly.

  The first thing that came into my mind was that I would have to contact Mrs. Davenport immediately after I collect all the pertinent evidence. I tracked confirmation all way up to the fifteenth floor of the projects and it hit me, this was sure a sundry place for a multimillionaire to die. I was in fairly good shape, running the Schuylkill River every other day helped. But I was still wheezing when I reached the top step out of breath. I entered the room, the window was still opened and the note that he supposedly wrote was on the table in clear plastic. The letter was strange sounding for a man who had everything; however the rich are depressed also, I presume. He mentioned his wife and how he was unloved but all this sounded out of whack seeing as who he was but people have committed suicides for the strangest reasons. Omar and Detective Miles was standing around in the room, there wasn’t much to do, it didn’t seem like a homicide, so I said, “Look we’ll find out further what’s up with him when I get him on the table back at the morgue, do me a favor go see his wife and mention to her to come and Id the body tomorrow.”

  Back at the morgue I examined his shell shocked body which had exploded on impact on the cemented ground. His head was in good condition seeing as though it was detached from its body and traveled over twenty feet into the air landing across the street from the building he jumped from. But the strangest thing about the body, the contents of some of the drugs he ingested one of which was the zombie drug which would make this a homicide instantly. The assistant tech approaches me with some news, “Mrs. Davenport would like to id the body,” he said. He was in bad shape as a body to be viewed but I could drape the body and just stick the head on top, and she wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.