While looking over the cases that Agent Cophs had worked on in the past 15 years since joining the FBI, I noticed he had a clearance rate of over 95%, one of the highest among federal agents. That was quite impressive. Usually the cases were solved within months.

The Imperon case dated from May 2009 and was one of the few that had remained unsolved. But why? And more importantly, why was almost every information about it classified? Was this Cophs' weak spot, was he trying to hide with own shortcomings in crime solving? Was he taking a bribe, just this once to hide some grand white collar conspiracy? Imperon... Emperor... Empire... A financial empire perhaps? Or maybe this order came directly from his superiors? Perhaps the Department of Defense was involved?

It didn't matter, I decided to look into it when I got back home. And since time was of the essence, I wouldn't be sleeping tonight.

31st January 2012
Dexter's Apartment
3:02 AM

I only knew that the case was of great importance and connected to Detroit somehow so I spent the next couple of hours going over the local news sources that reported on criminal activity in that part of the United States. No luck at first, I should have known. With Detroit having one of the highest crime rates in the country it felt like looking for a needle in a haystack. I'd have to narrow it down somehow.

What was Cophs' specialty again? Apparently only white collar crimes, possibly due to his economics background, and extremely violent serial killers. Despite the violent crime rate in Detroit, most of it was connected to organized crime and theft. Serial killers? Not so much. Most people killed for a reason, not just for the sake of it. There had only been two serial killers in the past five years, both cases solved, both reported not just in Detroit's local news outlets, but all over the country. Definitely not related to Imperon.

Then I found it. Or at least I was 99% sure this was it because it really stood out of the ordinary. The article was dated 3rd of May, 2009, which coincided with the opening of the Imperon case. Apparently the Eastwood Convalescent Center, a private, permanent healthcare facility for the disabled or elderly, had recieved a new patient from someone claiming to be a relative. It was an unusual commitment as the patient was missing all four limbs, tongue cut off, both eyes surgically removed, hearing impaired completely and genitals removed on top of that... just left alive... barely... unable to communicate about his aggressor and showing signs of a developing mental illness. The article also said that the FBI had opened an investigation but were keeping it all hush hush and would not reveal any further information. This story never made national headlines.

Amazing... This guy might not, strictly speaking, be a killer, but he's definitely unhinged... kind of like me.

I checked news articles further and found three similar cases, which also had failed to make national headlines. Another victim in the Detroit area in 2011, two more in the neighboring states of Michigan, one dating back from 2004, no mention of the Bureau's involvement at that time. Perhaps this only came to the Bureau's attention in 2009, it certainly fit the data. The victims had all been delivered to separate care facilities.

Since I was temporarily out of work I decided to travel to Detroit to investigate it further. Not to raise any suspicion about leaving town, I'd take a cab to the airport and board a plane to Michigan using a fake ID. Harrison would stay with aunt Debra for a while. She'd understand.

31st January 2012
Detroit, Michigan
9:32 AM

I arrived in Detroit after a 160 minute flight. I was tired, hadn't slept all night in Miami, only managed to fall asleep for the duration of the flight. I rented a car, and headed Downtown to find a hotel.

Detroit had seen better days. Since its peak in the 50's it had been in a permanent state of economic and social decline with widespread poverty, people leaving in droves and crime rates soaring. Entire neighborhoods were abandoned which made house prices plummet to near nothingness. There was something appealing to it though... solitude... if you didn't mind a lone thug suddenly coming out of nowhere and smashing your skull for the 10$ in your wallett of course. And with the homicide rate sky high and public services all but dysfunctional, maybe less chances for someone like me to get caught while having an endless supply of scumbags to kill.

Don't worry, I wasn't planning on staying here too long.

It was very cold. Here up north in Michigan was nothing like Florida at this time of year. It was full blown winter.

31st January 2012
The Leland Hotel, Downtown Detroit
10:56 AM

I decided to check into The Leland Hotel. It wasn't much, but then again neither were most hotels in Detroit. From the outside it didn't stand out of the ordinary. The inside of the hotel however was in a pretty bad shape and hadn't been renovated in decades. The floor was damaged, the carpets were torn in multiple places and the walls were dirty or tainted with graffiti.

There were some shady individuals in the lobby dressed like pimps and gang bangers and the receptionist himself had a shady vibe about him and wasn't particularly welcoming or helpful.

There was smoke everywhere and gangster rap music could be heard in the background.

I stayed nonetheless, the price was okay and I wasn't looking for luxury. I didn't fear for my personal safety much, plus where there was organized crime, the killers and sadists were not far off. The hotel service was awful and the environment was certainly not family friendly, but hey, maybe they would prove themselves useful later. Someone in Detroit's underworld knew who the person I was looking for was.

Anton (Receptionist): "Yo, white boy, need a room? Or you gonna stand there all day staring and shit?" asked the receptionist.
Dexter: "Yes, I'd like a room please." I said.
Anton: "Aight, that'll be 90$ a night, your name? I'm Anton, by the way."
Dexter: "Stanley Foyer."

Anton gave me the key to the room, number 630.

Dexter: "Can I get some help with my luggage please?" I asked.
Anton: "Shit, what do I look like a delivery boy? Aight, fine. Yo, T!" he shouted at one of the gang bangers.
T: "Watcha want, dog?"
Anton: "Can you please help Mr. Foyer here with his luggage?"

The gang banger turned to me and walk closer.

T: "Just so you know, I don't work here. 10 bucks and I help you with the luggage."
Dexter: "Yeah sure." I said.

The room was exactly as I had pictured it. Dirty, smelly and cold. Cockroaches under the bed and cracks in the wall.

Wonderful...

31st January 2012
Eastwood Convalescent Center
1:10 PM

Some hours later I went to check out Eastwood Convalescent Center, to see for myself what this enigmatic sadist had done. I couldn't just waltz right in without a good reason of course. A kind elderly lady greeted me at the entrance.

Tina: "Why hello there, young man. Welcome to Eastwood Convalescent Center, I am Tina Jones, the administrator."
Dexter: "Hello, I'm Stanley Foyer, I'm a traveling philanthropist." I lied.
Tina: "Oh, interesting. Would you like a tour of our facility?"
Dexter: "Yes, I would, thank you very much."

She spent the next hour or so showing me around the building and talking a lot. I didn't really pay attention to half of what she saying, I just needed to find a man in particular, the one that had been maimed for life by the mysterious sadist. The facility housed many elderly or crippled people that required permanent care.

As we were walking past one of the corridors I saw the man, he was asleep in a wheelchair. No limbs... I stopped in placed and pretended to be surprised.

Dexter: "Excuse me, Mrs. Jones. What can you tell me about that patient?" I interupted her from her long-winded monologue.
Tina: "Oh, that is Mr. Vick Anderson. He was delivered to us three years ago. He has multiple disabilities, the poor man, in fact the worst I've seen in my entire life. He literally has almost no non-essential body parts left."
Dexter: "That's horrible..." I said faking a frown. This is a masterpiece.
Tina: "I know, I know. But we take good care of him. We take good care of all of them, no matter how severe the disability may be. We take our commitment to helping the misfortunate very seriously here, Mr. Foyer."

We walked closer. No limbs, no ears and hearing impaired beyond repair, face mutilated beyond recognition. This was a work of art and it reminded me of my brother, Brian Moser. Both he and this mysterious sadist were artists.

Dexter: "What kind of accident does this to a person?" I asked, pretending to have absolutely no knowledge of it.
Tina: "Well, this was no accident. This was deliberate."
Dexter: "What kind of human being would do this to another person?" Someone like me perhaps?
Tina: "A terrible human being. We called the police, we called the FBI, but they never found the person who did it. We get the occasional visit from the FBI but they either have no new discoveries about the case or are reluctant to share them."
Dexter: "Does Mr. Anderson have any immediate family?"
Tina: "Not that we know of." she said. As she looked away for a brief moment, I managed to pluck a hair follicle from Mr. Anderson. He was no in state to respond.
Dexter: "Wait so who brought him in then?"
Tina: "We never met the man in person but it's likely the same man who mutilated him. We only spoke on the phone. He identified himself as Mr. Vick Anderson and inquired about having himself committed due to 'severe disabilities'. No details. Two days later we received payment via bank transfer from a 'Dr. Albert Danco' on his behalf. Mr. Anderson had also been delivered to our doorstep in the same state he is now. Well almost the same state."
Dexter: "Almost?"
Tina: "Well, we tried to find a way to communicate with Mr. Anderson, but it was no use. He was also developing a severe mental illness, most likely due to the trauma that had been inflicted on him."

Incredible... He almost murders his victims and leaves them in a state where they have almost no way to interact with the world around them and rat out the sadist. Why didn't I think of that? And surely all that dismemberment must involve a lot of blood... Delicious. I can picture it all in my mind. But I shouldn't, I need to think straight now.

She continued the tour of the facility for about half an hour more. Now I really was not paying attention, I had gotten all the information I needed. I just hung around a bit more to conceal the true motive behind my visit. Then headed back to the hotel.

31st January 2012
The Leland Hotel, Downtown Detroit
4:00 PM

I had two names to do a follow-up on, 'Dr. Danco' and 'Vick Anderson' and since I didn't have access to the police database anymore...

Debra: "Hello, who is this?"
Dexter: "It's me, Deb, I'm calling using a disposable cell phone."
Debra: "Fuck, Dexter, where are you? You left me with Harrison on short notice and then disappeared.
Dexter: "I'm in Detroit, Deb. Harrison okay?"
Debra: "Yeah. Listen. What the fuck are you doing all the way up there, Dex? Are you running away?"
Dexter: "It's... complicated and I have no access to the police database. They cut me off. I need you to check two names for me out here in Detroit. One is Vick Anderson..."
Debra: "Could you be more specific please?"
Dexter: "African-American male, early 40's or late 30's. Severely disabled. Also check out a Dr. Albert Danco."
Debra: "Can you tell me what this is about?"
Dexter: "I will, but I have to go now. Take care of Harrison."
Debra: "Yeah, sure."

I waited and waited... She called back in the evening.

Debra: "Okay, Dex, listen up. There are no Vick Andersons that fit that description, not in Detroit or anywhere in the United States. Whoever you're trying to find is a ghost."
Dexter: "What about Dr. Danco?"
Debra: "Fuck, Dex, I can't find him anywhere either, even though there are some bank accounts around the country created using that name. He seems to open one or two every year, make some transfers from some off-shore accounts that I have no fucking access to and could never get, the transfers the funds to some health care facilities, then the account gets frozen by the FBI a week later. He's definitely not doing something legal. Why the fuck would he repeatedly use the same name over and over and risk getting caught?"

Because he's mocking the system, toying with it. It's his way of saying "Hey, feds, wanna play?" And yes they do want to play. But so do I. "Dr. Danco" is his signature. The accounts are like trophies to him. Just like my blood slides. Just like Arthur's 'community' awards.

Dexter: "I don't know. Hey, Deb, could you e-mail me the list of all those facilities he's been transferring money to."
Debra: "Sure."
Dexter: "Thanks, you're the best."

Five minutes later I received the e-mail from Debra. There were 14 different facilities on the list, including the Eastwood Convalescent Center. I checked the rest out online. 10 out of 14 facilities were spread all over the US, but the other 4 were all in the Detroit, Michigan area. Clearly, this was Dr. Danco's base of operations.

There was even one in Florida, I had never heard of it and I still couldn't wrap my head around that idea that this had never made the national headlines. If my theory was right, all these facilities had one severely crippled person in each of them. This was Dr. Danco's MO, mutilate them, drive them mad, them ship them off to one of these care facilities.

I tried to cross check these locations with the local news. I was right. There were reports of mutilated people in those states. There was a sophisticated serial mutilator in the United States, and while, strictly speaking, he didn't meet Harry's Code, I figured he had resigned his victims to a fate worse than death. Still was I going to kill him? And more importantly, how would I use him against Special Agent Pelle Cophs and destroy his career? If I found him first, would that put into question Cophs' own competence as an efficient investigator? I didn't know, but I definitely wanted to find Dr. Danco.

But was I even on the right track? Debra called again.

Debra: "Okay, Dex, I found a bit more information about this Dr. Danco, but this is the farthest I can go. I turns out Dr. Danco transfers funds from some off-shore accounts, most of them in the Cayman Islands at a bank called 'Imperon Banc' and a few other in Cyprus. That is all, there's literally no way to take it any further short of a three month waiting period and it's quite possible after that you'll run into another dead end. There could be a whole fucking chain of off-shore accounts, plus those authorities rarely cooperate with anyone outside of the FBI. One thing's for sure. This guy is definitely loaded. He always transfers six figure sums."

The cost of lifetime care for someone in such a crippled state... Imperon... This was definitely the case that Cophs had been working on and had been unable to solve for the past three years.

Dexter: "Thanks, Deb. Talk to you soon."

I was tired... Went to bed. The heater didn't work and it was cold as fuck.

I spent the next three days going visiting the other facilities around Detroit, each time only to discover the same thing. People with all their non-essential body parts severed. I got their names and a piece of their DNA. None of those names were real either, Dr. Danco was forging new identities for them. I tried to communicate with them but they were all unresponsive and clearly driven to insanity, even Morse Code wouldn't work.

4th February 2012
Detroit Police Department
0:08 AM

One night, I snuck into the Detroit Police Department to get some of the samples tested. There was a match for Vick Anderson, his real name was Walter Cooper, he'd been tried for double homicide but never convincted... What? The other victims also turned out to have ties to violent crimes... Was Dr. Danco... like me? A vigilante, masking his urge to destroy under the veil of justice? Did he only go after bad guys? It seemed so.

I got back to the hotel around 3:00 AM.

4th February 2012
The Leland Hotel, Downtown Detroit
3:21 AM

With limited police resources at my immediate disposal, there was only one way forward. Underworld connections.

Dexter: "Anton, could you come over here please?"
Anton: "What?"
Dexter: "Hey uh, can you show me where to get the good stuff around here?" Anton raised an eyebrow.
Anton: "Shit, you better not be a cop. Follow me."

We went around back, got into Cadillac, no doubt stolen being way above his pay grade, and arrived at Eddystone Hotel, an abandoned hotel in Midtown Detroit.

4th February 2012
Eddystone Hotel, Midtown Detroit
3:30 AM

Anton: "Third floor" he said. "My man Dwayne is up there. He'll sort you out."

I went up, Anton drove off.

Dwayne: "You looking for the good shit? I got what you need."
Dexter: "Yeah, I'm jonesing for some weed, man."

I gave him the money and he gave back a pack of weed.

Dwayne: "Anything else you need, chief?"
Dexter: "Yeah, listen, I'm trying to get out of the country. Any of your guys can help?"
Dwayne: "I don't know whatcha talking about, chief, but you can ask around the Temple Bar for N-Dub."

So I did.

4th February 2012
The Temple Bar
3:51 AM

I found N-Dub while asking around.

N-Dub: "Ye, this is N-Dub, what you need, cracker?"
Dexter: "Hey, uh, I was told you could help me get out of the country."
N-Dub: "I can have your papers in two days, authentic shit, just bring be a recent photo and 2000$ in cash, 10 or 20's, unmarked bills."
Dexter: "Great it's a deal."
N-Dub: "Meet me around Michigan Central Depot, it's an old abandoned and secluded spot. Come alone. Now leave me alone, I need to finish my drink."

4th February 2012
Michigan Central Depot
4:20 AM

I met N-Dub half an hour later. I had a photo and the cash ready.

N-Dub: "So you made it. What do you want the name on your new passport and driver's license to be?"
Dexter: "Michael Arbinger."
N-Dub: "So what you running from, man?"
Dexter: "I did some things. Bad things. I can't tell you. I'm heading for Canada as soon as possible. Hey listen, I need you to tell me something."
N-Dub: "Shoot."

Yesterday I had snuck into the facilities and made copies of the ID's of Anderson and all the others. I showed him the ID's.

Dexter: "I'm looking for a man named Albert Danco. Dr. Albert Danco."

N-Dub raised an eyebrow. I could tell he knew something.

N-Dub: "People 'round here tend to live longer the less questions they ask." he said. An implied threat of violence.

I showed him the copies of the fake ID's.

Dexter: "Did you do these four ID cards?" I asked.
N-Dub: "Shit! You sound like Five-O." Five-O was slang for police. "Hey yo, T, hey L, come check this fool out!" 'Come alone' my ass.

Two gangsters came out of hiding to attack me, they were carrying knives. T was the same gangster from the hotel who had helped with the luggage.

T: "I knew there was something off about that that punkass bitch!" he said.

N-Dub pulled out a gun on me. I quickly disarmed him however and held him hostage at gun point.

Dexter: "Back off, put the knives down!" I said. They complied. I shot them both in the head anyway.
N-Dub: "Fuck!" he screamed. "You one crazy cracker!"

I knocked him out cold. I needed him alive for the time being. I quickly set up an improvised kill room. N-Dub woke up.

N-Dub: "Motherfuck... where am I?"
Dexter: "You're mine now. Tell me who Dr. Danco is. Tell me everything you know about him." I said.
N-Dub: "Fuck, I don't know what you're talking about."

I showed him the documents again.

Dexter: "You made these didn't you?"
N-Dub: "Okay, okay, just don't hurt me. Listen, I... I think I know who you're talking about. There's this white guy, roughly 40 years of age, comes around once or twice a year and orders fake ID's of various people."
Dexter: "Who is he?"
N-Dub: "I dunno, maybe a human trafficker or some shit, how the fuck should I know? I don't ask about their business too much."
Dexter: "Where is he?"
N-Dub: "I don't know." he said.

I showed him my tools.

Dexter: "You better. Or else." I said. He started sobbing like a little girl. It was pathetic.
N-Dub: "Shit... Okay, okay. Tell ya the truth, I like to keep eye on things."
Dexter: "Tell me about it."
N-Dub: "Well, I can tell you about his car. It's a silver Lincoln Town Car, saw it many times so I remember the plates. X72P1. Saw the car once somewhere 'round the 7-Mile Road but can't remember where exactly. That's all I know."
Dexter: "Good."
N-Dub: "You gonna let me go now right?"
Dexter: "No. Sorry." I said before stabbing him.

I didn't know if he met the code or not. All I knew was he tried to kill me and that he was a witness. Good enough reason to get rid of him.

It took me hours to clean up the mess but I finally did it. No more bodies, shell casings or blood, at least not any visible blood. The solitude of the abandoned neighborhood helped. Nobody heard the shots, there were no other witnesses. I dumped all three bodies in Lake St. Clair. Bon voyage!

It was 10:00 AM and I was tired as well, I drove back to the hotel and slept like a log for the next 12 hours.

Peace and quiet at last.