Tuesday, December 2, 2014

"Solus Ipse" Part 3

Click here for previous Solus Ipse.

Captain Lowes sat at his desk looking over the photos that had been taken of every victim of the Fairplay Killings. In all of the years he had been a lawman he had never seen anything like this. Sure, he had seen guys kill more victims than this. Fifteen was high but not unheard of. But the fact that there was absolutely no pattern concerned him more than anything. Plenty of fingerprints that led nowhere. He looked at a photo of one of the first victims.

An older Black female. He throat, abdomen, and ankles had been sliced almost to the bone. There was almost a riot after she had been killed. Lowes hated how racial his line of work could be most of the time because racial quickly became political. And when it became political depending on the race of the mayor, Black right now, the pressure was on for him to move faster.

Once the media figures out that the small kid laying in a cooler downstairs was the same one he had promised to save the mayor would serve his ass on a platter for the city. He would not be surprised to see some show up with torches and pitchforks. He picked up his phone and made a call to someone he hated to call. His brother in the FBI. 
“Hold please” his brother James' secretary told him before he could speak. A minute later she came back on the line. “How may I direct your call?”

“James Lowes, please” he replied.

“And whom may I say is calling?”

“His brother Victor” Captain Lowes said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. His migraine was threatening to come back with a vengeance. While he waited he fished in his drawer for an aspirin. Finding none he removed an old pack of cigarettes. He removed one and put it to his lips. He no longer smoked but felt comforted by the taste.

“Hey, baby brother” James said. Victor rolled his eyes. James was 63. Captain Lowes was 56. James still talked to him as if he were a child. Lowes hated his brother but knew that he was useful, if not terribly annoying, at times. “I read about that Fairplay Killer. Making any headway?” Victor knew that James knew that he knew the answer was no.

“A little” Lowes said. Just then Luis came into his office without knocking and smiling. “Let me call you back” he said while hanging up on his brother without waiting for a response. “I swear if its not good news...”

“Got a hair sample” Luis said. Megan stepped into the doorway. Lowes almost did not see her. She was very small and her personality made her somehow seem even smaller. “From the latest victim and hopefully last.”

“The victim, Shane Johnson, put up a fight” Megan said to Captain Lowes. He waved her into the room. “Under his nails there were hair and blood samples...” She handed over some files that contained photos of the hair.

“Blond?” Lowes asked.

“Yeah” Luis responded. The lab is checking them out further but from what we know so far it's a natural blond male. Likely Caucasian. In a few hours we'll know what his diet is, how old he may be, and how long ago his hair was ripped from his scalp.”

“Damn you're good” Lowes told Luis. “You as well” he said while nodding to Megan. “Have you contacted Donovan and Pritchard yet?”

“Was just about to” Luis said.

“Great” Lowes said. He could already feel his migraine going away. Slightly. “They need some good news.”


Pritchard flashed his badge and walked towards the crime scene. He saw a lot of the same faces from the Fairplay killings. He hoped that this was not another. Donovan caught up with him and sighed. He nodded. It was a silent acknowledgment that this was a bad situation and if it was another Fairplay killing that they would save one another a spot in line at the unemployment office.

Once they saw the bullet holes in the wall they each breathed freely. A plain clothes officer waved them over and bent down over the body of a young male. He pointed towards a gaping wound in the head and chest.

“Efficient” he said. Officer Rivers was known for inappropriate comments. “Double tap.”

“We can see that” Donovan said as she walked into a nearby kitchen. “Wow.”

“I know, right?!” Rivers shouted from the other room. He walked into the kitchen with Donovan with Pritchard following closely. There were three more bodies killed in the same double tapping manner. “This guy was a pro!”

“Yeah” Pritchard said before noticing another officer walking around the crime scene without proper footwear. “Who are you?”

“Officer Kiwada” he replied. “Why?”

“Who's you commanding officer?” Pritchard asked.

“Why?” Kiwada asked.

“Because, Kiwada, you are dirtying up the fucking crime scene!” Pritchard shouted. Donovan looked at him surprised. “Christ, I thought I was surrounded by people who knew what they were doing!”

“Calm down, buddy” Rivers said. “It's not that serious.”

“'Not that serious'?” Pritchard asked. “A crime scene with four bodies each shot in the head and chest and it's 'not that serious'. Fan-fucking-tastic.”

“Hey, don't come down on me because you haven't caught that Fairplay Killer” Rivers said. Before he could think Pritchard nailed him with a left hook that dropped him right into a puddle of blood. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

Police rushed into the kitchen while Donovan pulled Pritchard away. He yanked himself away from her and went outside. Donovan's cell rang and she answered it while looking at Pritchard. She had never seen him slug someone before. It was impressive.

“Yeah?” she answered. “No shit? Okay. Thanks. Ten minutes.” She put her phone back in her pocket and stood next to Pritchard. “It was Luis. Said they got hair samples from the last victim. White male.” Pritchard looked at her.

“Should I go and apologize?” he asked her.

“Fuck no” she replied. “Guy had it coming. I would've done it but you beat me to it. Where'd you learn to punch like that?”

“You don't wanna know” he replied as they headed to their car. 


Albert had to peel himself from his kitchen floor. The blood had dried gluing him in place. He sat up and walked into his bathroom turning on the water. Making sure it was cold enough he stepped inside and washed the blood and urine from his body.

“I am what I am I am” he sang to himself, startled by the sound of his echoing off of the bathroom walls. “I am what I am I...” he mumbled much lower. After finishing he walked into his bedroom and put on a fresh pair of clothes. He choose a tight gray sweater, dark blue jeans, and black and white Converse. He stepped outside and took a deep breath as he walked down the street.  

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