Part 387: The Case
The case was known as The Amber Angels.
Three women had been murdered in the past month and a half. Judging from the evidence, the killer was a tall male; about six food, five inches. His main method of execution was strangulation by hanging. The women were hung by orange extension cords, capable of being bought at any hardware store. The three women were found hanging in various locales. One by the docks, one by a junk yard and the other by an apartment complex; hung on the outside metal stairway railings. The women were various professions; one was a lawyer, one was a cashier at a shopping plaza and the other was a hooker. There was only one thing that they all had in common.
They all had soft amber colored hair.
“A killer that kills women based on hair color?” Ana-Lucia said, looking at the photos, “That’s so old.”
“True, this murderer harkens back to the Son of Sam in New York,” Detective Day replied, sipping on his coke, “ But however his motive, he’ll be near impossible to track.”
Maxine placed the photos of the women on a board on the far wall. She slowly backed away to get a fresh perspective on them. She reached behind her and took a bite out of her taco. “Do we know if the women knew each other?” she said, with a mouth half full of food.
“Not only did they not know each other, they lived in different parts of the city,” the black man said, sifting through a folder, “Police reports from families and friends who knew the women and saw the other pictures, said they didn’t recognize any of the other women who were victims.”
“You’re right.” Max sighed, “This guy will be hard to track.”
“Anything else about the victims?” Jenny asked.
“Only the killer’s calling card.” Day said as he started to pull out the photos, “Each victim had a small incision carved in her back.”
Kellye got up from her desk and walked over to look at the photos. The lawyer had a cut just below her neck line; the cashier had a cut on her left shoulder blade and the hooker had an incision just to the base of the spine. “Why are they all in different places?” she asked.
“Who knows?” Day said, eating his burrito, “It’s possible the cut itself has meaning but right now it’s just his calling card. Each cut is three inches; no more, no less.”
“That is weird,” the female cop whispered.
“I’ve seen weirder,” Ana-Lucia commented.
“I’m sure,” the black man smirked.
“It is possible the women may have known each other?” Meg said, eating a nacho.
“I suppose it’s possible but what are the odds?”
“He’s got a point, Meg,” Kellye said, sipping on her Sprite, “Three women all with the same hair color. You suggest they all met at the same hair dresser?”
“These women weighed a combined total of 376 pounds,” Maxine said, reading the report, “ The woman, Jackie Carson, was overweight at a weight of 158 pounds. Now, most men I know are strong but would a man who happens to be a hair dresser be able to lift up a woman to hang her?”
“Are you implying male hair dressers are gay?” Meg said, raising an eyebrow.
“No, I am implying they don’t work out . . . .and they’re gay.”
Ana-Lucia smirked and the joke caused Jenny to laugh. Day finally just shook his head and laughed. After the brief laughter, he finally stood up. “Regardless of the fact that they may or may not have met at a hair dresser’s, “ he said, stretching, “It’s still a good lead. We may have to check it out eventually.”
“Day, did any of the women show signs of fighting with their attacker before they where hung?” Jenny asked.
“No, no sigh of resistance,” he said, pulling out another report, “Probably due to the broken chest bones.”
“Broken bones in the chest?” Jenny said, taking the report.
“Yes. Autopsy shows signs of broken ribs on each victim. The coroner said that by judging the force needed to break all three ribs in one forceable blow would have required that the man kick them sharply. Possibly suggests a martial artist.”
“Is that true, Jenny?” Ana-Lucia asked.
“Not from any school I am familiar with.” She said, reading the reports.
Day then blinked and rubbed his neck. “Wait, did I miss something?” he coughed, “How would Ms. Baker know how to judge a martial artist attack?”
“Because if you had time to read her file, you would know she’s one of the best martial artists I’ve ever seen.” The Latina cop smirked.
“She holds black belts in three disciplines.” Kellye said, proudly to stroke the ego of her best friend.
“Oh? Which three?” Detective Day asked.
“Jeet Kune Do, Tai Kwan Do, and Ninjitsu,” she said, handing him back to the file.
“Ninjitsu?” Day laughed, “Jenny . . ..why would a young woman want to study to be a ninja?”
She looked to Kellye and winked. “I needed to learn how to use nunchucks,” she smirked.
Jenny then took off her baseball cap and set it down on the desk. She then motioned for Kellye to stand up and stand in front of her. The young blonde then looked at the photos of x-rays showing the broken rib cages. The break was slowly the main center, vertical snaps. “These breaks are all vertical,” Jenny pointed out.
“And?” Ana-Lucia said.
“In order for that break to happen, the killer would have had to kick them like this.”
Jenny then shoved her foot toward Kellye’s chest but stopped five inches from her. The young cop gasped and then smirked; always amazed at her friends skill. “There is no discipline I am aware of that teaches a forward thrust to the chest,” she pointed out.
Day was intriqued by her style. He then stood up and pointed toward Kellye. “Ms. Baker, imagine yourself as the killer. You want to knock Ms. Schroeder out. How would you do it?” he asked.
Jenny paused and then twirled, brining her foot toward Kellye’s face; again, stopping it five inches from her jaw. The brown haired girl closed her eyes and winced. She slowly opened them to see Jenny balancing her foot just shy of her face. “Round house kick gets them every time,” she said, then standing normal, “Easiest way to knock somebody out is a blow to the side of the head.”
“Reports show no other trauma beside the neck and rib cage,” Ana-Lucia said, double checking the reports.
“Trauma to the neck?” Day whispered, then tapped Jenny on the shoulder, “ are their any martial arts moves with strikes to the neck?”
“Plenty,” Jenny moved back toward Kelley and then crossed her wrists over; placing both hands by each opposite side of her neck, “ This is a Jeet Kune Do move called the Iron Breaker.”
“Suppose for an instance . . . .that this killer used a neck strike to the women, making them fall down and slam his foot into their chest. Breaking their ribs, making it difficult to breath and unable to fight them.”
“Yeah,” Jenny said, putting on her baseball cap, “That might be possible, because the hanging of the neck would hide any signs of attack to the throat.”
“Excellent theory,” Day replied, as he walked over to the board, “It’s a thin theory but it’s good to have one.”
A knocking on their wide office door got their attention. Ana-Lucia motioned for the young redheaded cop to come in. “Hello,” he smiled, “Jones from the motor pool. I got keys for Cortez, Baker and Boyd.”
“Our police radios are installed?” Ana-Lucia said, taking her car keys.
“You betcha. All set to go.” The young cop said, giving them a thumbs up and leaving the room.
“Okay, now that we got our radios to communicate with the stations; lets go ahead and proceed to check some places out.” Ana-Lucia said, “ Maxine, you take Meg and go investigate the junkyard. Jenny, you take Kellye and check out the docks. Look for anything out of place.”
“Is that really such a good idea, Ana?” Day said, behind her.
“It’s a great idea. A fresh set of eyes on the scene is always-“
“No, I understand why that would be a good idea but Ford processed those crimes scenes. If you send the ladies back, you’ll send a message that he missed something.”
Ana-Lucia looked out the glass windows of their office and already saw Ford staring back at them from the water cooler. The Latina then stared back Day with a bright grin on her face. “Maybe he did,” she smiled.
The black cop smirked and just shook his head. Ana-Lucia motioned of to her fellow cops to take off on their duties. Kellye followed Jenny out the officer and Meg quickly followed Maxine after she grabbed what was left of her burrito. The ladies walked past Ford and he couldn’t help but give them a bad look. Ana-Lucia watched him and leaned back on her desk. “Day, what is Ford’s problem?” she whispered.
“He’s suffering from a personal problem.” The black detective said, studying the photos, “He’s got nothing against your fellow officers. He’s just got a beef with being taken off the case.”
“I already heard a rumor that he screwed up on the Lesbian Jogger case.”
“True. He let his personal feelings cloud his judgment and as a result, the killer walked.”
“Does he have a problem with lesbians?” the Latina asked.
“Considering his wife left him for one . . .I’d said, YEAH, he’s got a problem.”
“Oh, my God,” Ana-Lucia covered her mouth, “I thought that was a tabloid hoax.”
“No, I assure you it’s real,” Day sat next to her on the desk, “As is his anger. So stay away from him.”
“As long as he doesn’t interfere with our cases, then I won’t need to be anywhere near him.”
“Might I ask something, Ana?” the black detective looked at her, “You told those women to go out and look at those scenes. I noticed the pairings you gave them. Two senior police officers and two rookies. Might I ask why?”
“No problem,” she said, grinning, “Maxine has the knowledge and Meg has the drive. They will make a great team. I already know Kellye and Jenny will be great cause they are already best friends.”
“Some cops would consider that risky?” he smirked.
“Not these two. Trust me on this, Day. These two girls? I know for a fact that they have been in dire situations before . . .and came out smiling.”
Three women had been murdered in the past month and a half. Judging from the evidence, the killer was a tall male; about six food, five inches. His main method of execution was strangulation by hanging. The women were hung by orange extension cords, capable of being bought at any hardware store. The three women were found hanging in various locales. One by the docks, one by a junk yard and the other by an apartment complex; hung on the outside metal stairway railings. The women were various professions; one was a lawyer, one was a cashier at a shopping plaza and the other was a hooker. There was only one thing that they all had in common.
They all had soft amber colored hair.
“A killer that kills women based on hair color?” Ana-Lucia said, looking at the photos, “That’s so old.”
“True, this murderer harkens back to the Son of Sam in New York,” Detective Day replied, sipping on his coke, “ But however his motive, he’ll be near impossible to track.”
Maxine placed the photos of the women on a board on the far wall. She slowly backed away to get a fresh perspective on them. She reached behind her and took a bite out of her taco. “Do we know if the women knew each other?” she said, with a mouth half full of food.
“Not only did they not know each other, they lived in different parts of the city,” the black man said, sifting through a folder, “Police reports from families and friends who knew the women and saw the other pictures, said they didn’t recognize any of the other women who were victims.”
“You’re right.” Max sighed, “This guy will be hard to track.”
“Anything else about the victims?” Jenny asked.
“Only the killer’s calling card.” Day said as he started to pull out the photos, “Each victim had a small incision carved in her back.”
Kellye got up from her desk and walked over to look at the photos. The lawyer had a cut just below her neck line; the cashier had a cut on her left shoulder blade and the hooker had an incision just to the base of the spine. “Why are they all in different places?” she asked.
“Who knows?” Day said, eating his burrito, “It’s possible the cut itself has meaning but right now it’s just his calling card. Each cut is three inches; no more, no less.”
“That is weird,” the female cop whispered.
“I’ve seen weirder,” Ana-Lucia commented.
“I’m sure,” the black man smirked.
“It is possible the women may have known each other?” Meg said, eating a nacho.
“I suppose it’s possible but what are the odds?”
“He’s got a point, Meg,” Kellye said, sipping on her Sprite, “Three women all with the same hair color. You suggest they all met at the same hair dresser?”
“These women weighed a combined total of 376 pounds,” Maxine said, reading the report, “ The woman, Jackie Carson, was overweight at a weight of 158 pounds. Now, most men I know are strong but would a man who happens to be a hair dresser be able to lift up a woman to hang her?”
“Are you implying male hair dressers are gay?” Meg said, raising an eyebrow.
“No, I am implying they don’t work out . . . .and they’re gay.”
Ana-Lucia smirked and the joke caused Jenny to laugh. Day finally just shook his head and laughed. After the brief laughter, he finally stood up. “Regardless of the fact that they may or may not have met at a hair dresser’s, “ he said, stretching, “It’s still a good lead. We may have to check it out eventually.”
“Day, did any of the women show signs of fighting with their attacker before they where hung?” Jenny asked.
“No, no sigh of resistance,” he said, pulling out another report, “Probably due to the broken chest bones.”
“Broken bones in the chest?” Jenny said, taking the report.
“Yes. Autopsy shows signs of broken ribs on each victim. The coroner said that by judging the force needed to break all three ribs in one forceable blow would have required that the man kick them sharply. Possibly suggests a martial artist.”
“Is that true, Jenny?” Ana-Lucia asked.
“Not from any school I am familiar with.” She said, reading the reports.
Day then blinked and rubbed his neck. “Wait, did I miss something?” he coughed, “How would Ms. Baker know how to judge a martial artist attack?”
“Because if you had time to read her file, you would know she’s one of the best martial artists I’ve ever seen.” The Latina cop smirked.
“She holds black belts in three disciplines.” Kellye said, proudly to stroke the ego of her best friend.
“Oh? Which three?” Detective Day asked.
“Jeet Kune Do, Tai Kwan Do, and Ninjitsu,” she said, handing him back to the file.
“Ninjitsu?” Day laughed, “Jenny . . ..why would a young woman want to study to be a ninja?”
She looked to Kellye and winked. “I needed to learn how to use nunchucks,” she smirked.
Jenny then took off her baseball cap and set it down on the desk. She then motioned for Kellye to stand up and stand in front of her. The young blonde then looked at the photos of x-rays showing the broken rib cages. The break was slowly the main center, vertical snaps. “These breaks are all vertical,” Jenny pointed out.
“And?” Ana-Lucia said.
“In order for that break to happen, the killer would have had to kick them like this.”
Jenny then shoved her foot toward Kellye’s chest but stopped five inches from her. The young cop gasped and then smirked; always amazed at her friends skill. “There is no discipline I am aware of that teaches a forward thrust to the chest,” she pointed out.
Day was intriqued by her style. He then stood up and pointed toward Kellye. “Ms. Baker, imagine yourself as the killer. You want to knock Ms. Schroeder out. How would you do it?” he asked.
Jenny paused and then twirled, brining her foot toward Kellye’s face; again, stopping it five inches from her jaw. The brown haired girl closed her eyes and winced. She slowly opened them to see Jenny balancing her foot just shy of her face. “Round house kick gets them every time,” she said, then standing normal, “Easiest way to knock somebody out is a blow to the side of the head.”
“Reports show no other trauma beside the neck and rib cage,” Ana-Lucia said, double checking the reports.
“Trauma to the neck?” Day whispered, then tapped Jenny on the shoulder, “ are their any martial arts moves with strikes to the neck?”
“Plenty,” Jenny moved back toward Kelley and then crossed her wrists over; placing both hands by each opposite side of her neck, “ This is a Jeet Kune Do move called the Iron Breaker.”
“Suppose for an instance . . . .that this killer used a neck strike to the women, making them fall down and slam his foot into their chest. Breaking their ribs, making it difficult to breath and unable to fight them.”
“Yeah,” Jenny said, putting on her baseball cap, “That might be possible, because the hanging of the neck would hide any signs of attack to the throat.”
“Excellent theory,” Day replied, as he walked over to the board, “It’s a thin theory but it’s good to have one.”
A knocking on their wide office door got their attention. Ana-Lucia motioned for the young redheaded cop to come in. “Hello,” he smiled, “Jones from the motor pool. I got keys for Cortez, Baker and Boyd.”
“Our police radios are installed?” Ana-Lucia said, taking her car keys.
“You betcha. All set to go.” The young cop said, giving them a thumbs up and leaving the room.
“Okay, now that we got our radios to communicate with the stations; lets go ahead and proceed to check some places out.” Ana-Lucia said, “ Maxine, you take Meg and go investigate the junkyard. Jenny, you take Kellye and check out the docks. Look for anything out of place.”
“Is that really such a good idea, Ana?” Day said, behind her.
“It’s a great idea. A fresh set of eyes on the scene is always-“
“No, I understand why that would be a good idea but Ford processed those crimes scenes. If you send the ladies back, you’ll send a message that he missed something.”
Ana-Lucia looked out the glass windows of their office and already saw Ford staring back at them from the water cooler. The Latina then stared back Day with a bright grin on her face. “Maybe he did,” she smiled.
The black cop smirked and just shook his head. Ana-Lucia motioned of to her fellow cops to take off on their duties. Kellye followed Jenny out the officer and Meg quickly followed Maxine after she grabbed what was left of her burrito. The ladies walked past Ford and he couldn’t help but give them a bad look. Ana-Lucia watched him and leaned back on her desk. “Day, what is Ford’s problem?” she whispered.
“He’s suffering from a personal problem.” The black detective said, studying the photos, “He’s got nothing against your fellow officers. He’s just got a beef with being taken off the case.”
“I already heard a rumor that he screwed up on the Lesbian Jogger case.”
“True. He let his personal feelings cloud his judgment and as a result, the killer walked.”
“Does he have a problem with lesbians?” the Latina asked.
“Considering his wife left him for one . . .I’d said, YEAH, he’s got a problem.”
“Oh, my God,” Ana-Lucia covered her mouth, “I thought that was a tabloid hoax.”
“No, I assure you it’s real,” Day sat next to her on the desk, “As is his anger. So stay away from him.”
“As long as he doesn’t interfere with our cases, then I won’t need to be anywhere near him.”
“Might I ask something, Ana?” the black detective looked at her, “You told those women to go out and look at those scenes. I noticed the pairings you gave them. Two senior police officers and two rookies. Might I ask why?”
“No problem,” she said, grinning, “Maxine has the knowledge and Meg has the drive. They will make a great team. I already know Kellye and Jenny will be great cause they are already best friends.”
“Some cops would consider that risky?” he smirked.
“Not these two. Trust me on this, Day. These two girls? I know for a fact that they have been in dire situations before . . .and came out smiling.”
posted by Jason | 10:09 AM
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