Last Thuggie Book III: You Will Pay (3)

by Jamal Shakur

  It had been a couple of months since the burning down of the residence on the Main Line, we had also started to round up and arrested followers of the thuggie clan at least ten states around the country ending their madness . All these things that were occurring but there was no sighting or word from the main antagonist Sinclair, could he have died in the fire, we had hoped that he did. My phone started to ring excessively, something it hasn’t done for at least a couple of months, I cherished those days of silence. It was a long distance call from Italy of all places. It was a police Chief Anthony Sangria, his voice sound distressed and troubled on the phone, “Hello, Detective Lomax, I’ve been trying to get you for the last couple of weeks, I think we have something for you, since we have many oceans that separate us, I will send you a video of the crime scene and the autopsy report of the victim, if it interests you, call me back.”

  No doubt it did interest me, the crime scene looked very familiar, somewhere I have seen this before. The crime itself was horrific; however this definitely was a crime of passion. But interesting enough most of the damage was done postmortem. The unsub was obviously angry with himself, he desired to have a blood soaked killing but only could accomplish a near sanitary killing which infuriated him. But here’s something in the autopsy report, the vic head was decapitated and missing, the stomach was opened with a DVD left in the cavity. This was almost identical to the murders that occurred right here in Philly. We quickly played the contents of the recording, on the screen was a large figure dressed in black with his face covered with black material , he spoke his first words of woe, “ My name is of no importance , but let me tell you something the Thuggies are not just in the States , we are a worldwide movement.” And that was it; obviously it was a message left for me and possibly this figure was Sinclair are a high ranking member of his clan. My particular thoughts on Sinclair is that he is aware that it’s hot in the US so he has to kill somewhere else , hence for him murder is similar to a crack addition , He see’s killing as both spiritual and sexual; he has to do it or it will consume his very soul. .

  Ch 61

  I arrived in Italy via Great Britain; I was feeling the other side of jet lag and was slightly beginning to gain my senses. I arrived early at the police precinct which was entombed in an old church. It was very European and old world. It was a very unusual place and the police behaved the same way. The police chief met me at the door. I was surprised at that behavior usually the chief’s that I have known are not that accessible. He extended his hand and said,” I ‘m glad to meet your acquaintance Detective Lomax, I’ve been closely following your exploits online and was surprised that our murder had parallel your own.”

  “I’m glad you bought that up; I would like to examine the crime scene as soon as possible.” I said.

  “You are a go getter aren’t you?” he queried with a surprise lilt to his voice. No bite to eat or sightseeing just, work and more work, uh? The Crime scene was in a hotel not far from a river side café. The room gave off all of the appearance of a romantic enclave. There wasn’t anything unusual about the place but what surprised me was the sanitation of the murder itself, but the postmortem hacking of the body off set that whole scene. “I see by your expression, were you expecting something more?” asked the chief.

  “No, I was just crossing all the t’s and dotting all the I’s as they say, “I said in an amusing manner.

  I did another once over in the hotel room and I discovered something unusual , it was a small replica of the liberty bell in Philadelphia , no doubt and allusion to Sinclair and the thuggies, the item was miniature and obscure it would have went unnoticed but perhaps I took note of it because it is a Philadelphia icon. No doubt that was his purpose for leaving it here, because he probably figured I would be visiting the crime scene. This in itself exemplified his narcissism, as if he was that important. “If it is Sinclair, then I would expect more murders to soon transpire; I would think he would try to mirror the killings that have occurred in the states.” I said with caution and sadness.

  The Chief glanced at me with utter amazement and stated, “I guess once he finds out that you’re here, and then your assessment maybe correct, but I hope and pray it’s not.”

  I stayed over a week in Italy, and enjoyed myself sightseeing I have never been on a vacation alone, it was either with the kid’s are with my late wife; however, I was enjoying myself, I don’t know if I was enjoying the sights are just the idea that their hasn’t been another murder in almost the whole of my stay here.

  I had headed back to the precinct to look at a few things and try to get some work done. On my desk was a large envelope. It didn’t have a return address on it; after checking it for finger prints I simply picked up a pair of rubber gloves and proceeded to open the large size envelope. I empty the contents which contained about ten photos, all of me which displayed my visitation and sightseeing all around the city. It was a small note with pictures which stated, “Hope you’re having a beautiful time in Italy, get to work, I will leave you more presents.” The note was left unsigned but I knew who it was from. I place all the photos up on the bulletin board, just to give the rest of the fellow detectives a feeling of what we’re dealing with. “I see by the up close shots from his camera that he may be following you very intently,” said the chief.

  “I don’t think so, he’s probably using a high powered lens camera to keep a safe distance from me, “I said. However, he’s stalking a police officer which would eventually lead way to his capture. But maybe he’s thinking that because I’m so many thousands of miles away from home that I ‘m like a fish out water and confused about what I’m doing here. Time went on and I wasn’t delighted in staying in a strange country and chasing a perp. but this is the way he has set it up and I think it was done purposely as some sort of strange plan that he only knew the final chapter to.

  I was sitting at the Italian precinct enjoying the surroundings, coffee was the main stay; I guess that was the case at any police station around the world but their coffee tasted too good to be true almost like the café. I was accustomed to the funky brew we made back home which would assuredly bring one back to reality. At any rate the chief bought me to clarity, he just stared at me from his office as if something was up and beckoned me to enter his office with the wave of his hand. “It looks like your fellow has moved his operation, he has murdered someone in Great Britain almost the same identical way that he has done here,” he said grimly.

  “I kind of knew that you might want to look into it immediately, your plane tickets for Britain are right on your desk.”

  I probably could have waited and used my round trip tickets for the states because Great Britain was the stop over before returning home. Which causes a light bulb to suddenly pop up in my brain, so suppose the perp was from the states and used his stop over to commit murder before leaving? I was met at London Heathrow Airport from by an Inspector Paul Grant, he looked rather smug but I presume that’s the look of someone from a prestigious law enforcement outfit like Scotland Yard. “I hope you had a comfortable flight Mister Lomax, the chief is ready to brief you at the Yard, “he said almost condescendingly. “First off the name is Dr Detective Lomax, although you don’t have to use both titles, I insist on the respect of referring to me at the least by my title as a detective, if it’s not too much trouble? “ I said without batting an eye. I went further,” But I hope this little discussion won’t go any further and we could work together harmoniously, “I finished with a smile and a wink. I squeezed into his little compact car you know the ones you see on TV that’s almost as small a Volkswagens buggy. He laughed at my attempt and this was the action that broke the ice, when we continued our ride to the Yard we held a conversation on the way there and our little confrontation was soon forgotten.

  We finally arrived at the Yard as they call it; however, this was the New Scotland Yard, you could tell that simply because the sign on the front of the modern building said so. The old Yard resembled a castle an
d gave the perspective of a rigid law enforcement agency but as time goes by, everything changes. I proceeded to the elevators and got off on the third floor, if I didn’t know it I could of sworn that I was back at homicide at home in the states, it was a mirror image. I was sitting at a desk that the Yard temporally gave me. I was settling in when the Police chief of homicide strolled in. “Hello, detective Lomax, I’m Chief Henry. “ So how do you like Yard? I gave a shrug and smirk at the same time, as if to mean; don’t believe the hype.

  “You know it’s funny this place hasn’t been called Scotland Yard in years, maybe since 1894 and the only reason it received that name was because the building faces a rear entrance way where the street was called the Great Scotland Yard, so you see besides all the hoopla Scotland Yard technically never existed and for over a hundred years the real name of this place has always been the Metropolitan Police Service, we only use the prior name for the public consumption.” Damn, thank you for the public service; I thought to myself. The place had a lot history there was a photograph of the old new Scotland Yard building that was a stone’s throw away from Big Ben. The Chief glanced at me as I was staring at the photo and said, “You’ve become quite the international detective, haven’t you? But I digress, we have a lot of info for you on the murder scene, we’ve taped the area if you would like to look over the crime scene with your own eyes you are welcome to it.”

  We were in route to the crime scene which was at a fashionable hotel at London Hilton on Park Lane. The room was on the twenty seventh floors which was a floor down from the 28th floors Galvin at Windows restaurant. That could have been consequential but maybe he wanted to be close to somewhere to pick up single women. The hotel was extremely expensive but for the murder crime scene it didn’t matter because the smell of death was just like any other crime scene. The body had long been removed , I just wanted to get a feel for the crime; unlike the previous murder in Italy this room was very expensive so I take it that the vic was either somewhat important or very rich. They Google her name while we were at the crime scene, she was old money and was a relative of the Royal family; she also had stock in Microsoft since its inception and was considered very rich. This was awful the only thing that one could really notice was the blood splatter patterns on the wall and the ceilings, he was really angry as he was in the previous murder. I found something on the shelf , it was a pair of old time bifocals, it didn’t belong to the vic we peruse though medical records , she had 20 / 20 vision and even if she did wear glasses why would she wear something that were so unfashionable and old.

  The chief wanted to know what my thoughts were on the eyeglasses but I could only come up with one thing, “The perp contacted me and told me he would leave me presents at first I thought it was the murdered victims but I have come to the conclusion that it is the little clues that he has left me, the first so-called present was an icon of my city Philadelphia, the liberty bell and now it’s bifocals which I believe is reference To another Philly icon Benjamin Franklin.”

  Ch 62

  I had one clue that I thought I might check out, I returned to Heathrow and questioned the ticket agent at the counter. What I wanted to know was all the flights that left from there during the time of the murder and the customers who caught that flight. We received the names and the pictures of every passenger from their passport photos; however there wasn’t any photo of Sinclair. I thought I had struck out but it could have been a possibility that there could have been another perp that was affiliated with Sinclair. I was in a funk trying to figure this one out but I knew the only way to get the next lead was for the perp to commit another murder. I was waiting but he was not participating ; It was weeks and nothing wasn’t really happening , I decided to head home the next day and before I could; I received a message, the communication was a fax telling me to phone the precinct and talk to my old friend Omar, he answered the phone with a cheerful greeting as if I have been gone for an eternity, “ Hi ya , homeboy, I have some bad news , the perp you’ve been chasing has been applying his wares here at home and has left you a message at the crime scene. We took some pictures of the crime scene and an overall picture of everything that was seen in the room and bagged and tagged it and it’s waiting for your perusing and approval.”

  I played the video of the crime scene on my laptop; the body of a young blond female was laying in missionary position in a blood splattered room, this time it was in a cheap motel. There’s a note attached to her hair which was probably left for me, the note said, “Get on the ball, Lomax I’m back home. One of his presents or clues was a map of old Philadelphia when it was one of the thirteen colonies. All the details of his clues which lead me to believe that his intent is to destroy me; hence his proclivity for everything Philadelphia is an obvious reaction towards me or it might be that he has something further in store for the City of Brotherly Love .

  I just arrived home at Philly international , it was tiresome going through customs , the long lines and I can say with assuredly that I am not a world traveler , it’s to exhausting. I rented a car and was heading home, fortunately it was so late that I decided not to go to headquarters, what an excuse, I was thinking of the station house instead of my home and family. I walk slowly up the walkway checking around the perimeter of the house like I often did. I try to quietly reach in my briefcase for the key to the front door, “damn, I don’t have the key”. I tapped quietly on the door to not arouse everyone in the house, mind you its 2:00 in the morning. The door crept open like one of those old time Bella Lugosi movies, I expected to see Dracula but the only scary being at the door was Momma. “You know we gotta stop meeting like this, are you finally home for a prolonged visit,” she said with lot of sarcasm in her voice. I didn’t know how to respond, for the moment I felt like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar and stood there with my mouth wide open ; Waiting for my time out. “Momma, the only thing I got to say is that I’m glad to be home.” I said with my head bowed down humbly. “Boy get in that kitchen, I got some fried chicken, candy yams and the all the fixins you like so much.”

  That’s Momma, she thinks everything can be solved with her cooking, and the way it taste was so good, and you know I thinks she’s right. She gave me the 411 on the kids and I was delighted that they doing well and was safe. But duty all ways calls when one is having one of those ah ha moments. It was Omar,” I know you just got home but it’s time to make the donuts and this guy literally just did that, the murder crime scene is at Dominoes’ bakery on 5th.”

  The bakery is one of those establishments that has for years has catered to the night people especially police officers, they normally sold just baked goods but here recently for the last couple of years they’ve added coffee to the mix. I ran out the door as fast as I could and jumped into the jeep, I arrived at the crime scene it seems like in minutes. Caution tape and trash was blowing around the bakery. I went inside and their laying prone on the floor was the sister of the proprietor. Her neck seemed to be broken; with the exception of the broken neck the murder was the same as the other killings. I quickly panned the room looking for little tale tale signs of a clue, similar to the ones he left in Europe and the one here recently. It was on the counter, it was a map of Philadelphia in 1776 that displayed the thirteen colonies with Philadelphia as the capital of the newly independent nation. We now had four clues at this point, the liberty bell, bifocals and now the old Philly colony map. At this point I didn’t see a connection. But one thing was for sure everything that was about to happen would happen right here, the only question is, when?

  Ch 63

  The murder was a status quo murder, in other words it was the same as the others; hence, no change in his MO. The only thing for now that was different was that there was no communication between the police and the perp . His pick of the bakery was a murder of opportunity, on this particular night the woman was alone by herself which happened about twice a week, her brother made deliveries and it was easy for the perp to find t
his out since it was common knowledge for anyone that was familiar with this shop. Back at HQ we placed the clues upon the bulletin board, hopefully one of us if we looked at this often enough would eventually figure it out but time was running out.

  “I have a delivery for a Detective Holmes in care of Dr. Lomax , “ announced the UPS man. The desk sergeant found the whole thing too suspicious and contacted Lomax to come down to the intake desk. I examined the package before opening it up. He was trying to play head games with me by changing up his way of a delivering message. It was a DVD similar to his other mode of communication.

  The DVD started off with a looming figure dressed in all white sitting on a throne of some sort, it was Sinclair. His attire was topped off with a hood but his face was not concealed. The smirk on his face was very noticeable and began to speak with a slight stutter, “Unlike Moses I don’t have a Jacob so if I sometimes speak with an impediment than I must eternally be my own Jacob. But be that as it may, first things first and you will remember what it is first and what is last.” That was it, and the tape ended just as abruptly as it started. We sat for at least an hour in our cubicle trying to decipher what the heck he was talking about. I glanced at Omar and the rest of the crew and commented “His little colloquy about his speech embedment was his idea of being vulnerable, but the crap about the first was his alluding to the clues and guess we have to put the first as number one on our bulleted list of our clue.