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Chapter One: Washed Up
*You are Detective Mal Fallon of the San Francisco Police Department.*
I am currently kicking bootie at Texas Hold 'Em in a back-alley bar in the Mission District. My opponent, Diego, doesn't stand a chance!
"Come on, Diego, what are you waiting for? I don't have all day." I say. I am normally an impatient person. They say patience is a virtue, but I beg to differ.
Diego starts to twitch nervously, which I find funny, because he is heavily tatooed and it makes the tatoos move. I hold in my laughter, though, for the sake of progress for the game.
"I'm thinking, man, I'm thinking..." he says, which makes him twitch more.
I figured it would be a while so I tuned in to the TV:
'The serial killer dubbed 'The Maskmaker' continues to elude capture, frustrating law enforcement...'
"Hey man, you heard about the Maskmaker guy, Mal? Killing girls, making amsks out of their faces. Pretty sick, huh?" Diego quotes. Probably hoping to pry information out of me. That is NOT going to work!
"How about you leave the detective work the me, Diego, and focus on the game. You gonna make a bet or not?" That sounded kind of mean, but hey, what's done is done, right?
Diego glaced at his two cards and grinned.
"Sure, I'm in for thirty," he states
(Let's see... we're at the final round of betting, and I've got nothing but a pair of fours... but I think Diego's got less)
I bluff and say, "I raise a hundred."
"What? No, man, you... you don't got it. No way you got anything." Diego said. I'm sure he's lying.
"Then call it Diego. Put your money where your mouth is," I say, I'm about to win!
"Ahhh, screw this man, I fold," Diego says, his face falling to defeat.
I reach across the table and gather up the pot.
"Cheer up," I say, "One of these day, your luck will turn."
With that, Diego starts to shuffle the cards, when a tall police officer walks up to the table.
"Mal." says the officer. I recognize him right away...it is Detective Ken Greene!
"Well, this is unexpected. What are you doing here, Ken?" I ask. What does he want with me?
"I had a feeling I'd find you here... gambling away with these other shady, unkempt lowlifes..." he responds.
"Hey! I might be shady and a lowlife, but I'm very well kempt..." I snap back.
"Anyway, the Captain sent me to find you. You're needed on a case," he says. Hmmm...a case? How could that be? I'm only the best detective in San Francisco...
"I thought I was suspended until the end of next week..." I say, because truthfully, I was.
"You were. Now, you're no. Let's go." Ken was always blunt with his words.
Of course Diego has to pry his huge nose into this, "You got suspended?" he asks, "What'd you do?"
"I punched the mayor's son..."
"Damn! That's hardcore!" Diego says. He always was a fighter, not a lover.
" 'Hardcore' was what he did to the girl he assaulted. I just helped him understand the error of his ways," I bluntly said. All that I did say was true. A man should treat a girl right.
"As much fun as it is to rehash your greatest hits, we gotta roll out," Ken, being a punctual man, needed to go and of course, I had to go with him. So I pocketed the last of my money. Then I got curious, why was he in such a hurry?
"What's the big rush anyways?" I inquire. I wanted information.
"Captain Yeong wants yo to head up to the Maskmaker Task Force." Hmm...the Maskmaker, huh? Interesting...
"Since when is there a Maskmaker Task Force?" I ask, because I've never heard of it.
"Since we just found another victim. Let's go!" Well...Ok. I got up from the seat and pulled on my coat. Ken and I walked to the door, but then he stopped.
"Oh, and by the way..."
"Yeah?" I say. I'm getting impatient.
"It's good to have you back, Mal," he says.
Half an hour later, we are still driving down the crowded streets of SF. I'm driving now, and Captain Yeong is in the passenger seat.
"I gotta tell you, Captain, as much as I'm glad to be back on the beat, I thought Detective Blackwell was handling the Maskmaker case..."
"He was when the victims were prostitutes. This new one's a college girl. When the press gets word of this, the public is going to got crazy..." She does have a point there. "And whether I like it or not, you're the best detective I've got."
"I appreciate it."
"That doesn't mean you're off the hook! I want this one by-the-book, Detective. You understand that? By-the-book!" she says. Jeez, can't a woman relax?
"I won't let you down, Captain," I reply. What else can I say?
"Good," she says, "And you might want to let your wife know you'll be home late." Ah. My wife. Or my soon-to-be-ex. I can't wait to get that woman away! I gave her everything and she still decides to leave me. Ridiculous I say.
"Yeah, I'll, uh, give her a call in a bit. First, why don't you give the the basics on the case?" I say, trying to hide the fact that I'm upset about my wife and she already has a new place so I won't need to call her anyways.
"This is the third murder matching this M.O. we've had in three months. The victims wereyoung women, age 20-25, who washed up dead near the waterfront. All of them had plaster masks molded to their faces. We can't definitively ID this latest victim until we run her DNA sample, but the student ID in her wallets says she's Sophie Patterson of Stanford University. I've already called the tech team. They'll fill you in on this victim when we get there. Any questions?"
"Yes, I'd like to know more information on the murders," I said. You can never know too much.
"All three victims are Caucasian females in their early 20s. The first body washed up on a beach north of the Marina. The second was caught in nets near Fisherman's Warf."
"What was the cause of the death?" I needed more information if I was going to solve the case.
"The cause of death for the first two victims was strangulation. The masks were made post-mortem," she said
"Any sign of a struggle?" I asked.
"The first two victims exhibited no signs of a struggle, no signs of sexual assault. Both victims had traces of chloroform in their systems." she said.
"So he drugged them, strangled them, and made masks of the faces?" I asked. This guy was psycho!
"Yes, he did and he did it so the would not feel a thing." Captain said.
"How very gentle of him. Any leads?" I asked.
"No," Captain said, "That's the most infuriating part. Forensics has found nothing on the bodies. We've got no witnesses, no DNA, and no perps in our system with priors matching the M.O. Our killer is precise, methodical, and extremely efficient. He knows who to target and how to cover his trail."
"He'll slip up," I said, "They always do. I'll catch this guy, Captain."
"I hope you can Detective...Before he kills again."
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*A cold breeze blows over you as you arrive at a series of run-down docks just a few blocks away from the touristy hub of Fisherman's Wharf. By the water you're greeted by an all-too-familiar sight: a circle roped off by police tape and a huddle of grim-faced officers. You push past several officers and walk into the circle. On her back by the water is a yound, well-dressed girl with a firm plaster mask molded around her face.*
You are Mal Fallon.
"Ah hell..." I said. It is such a shame to see such beauty, and a person so young go to waste. She had her whole life ahead of her.
"The body was found by some fisherman coming back from their morning trawl. Judging by the look of her, she spent the night in the water," said Captain Yeong.
"She was dumped in the ocean...but the mask stayed on?" I asked...this didn't make sense.
"Believe me,we're having a hell of a time getting it off. Our killer knew what he was doing," she said. I walked over towards the body, when a young woman in a dark suit steps out from the circle and snaps a picture!
"Miss, please back out of the crime scene," I said. She was so beautiful. I was hooked instantly.
"I would, but that would make doing my job more difficult," she said. Her voice was that of an angels...
The woman stands up, reaches into her pocket and flashes me an FBI ID.
"You're with the FBI?" I ask, but then I feel stupid afterwards since she has an ID. Gosh...I never knew how to talk to women. I HAVE to get this girl right. I need her.
"You've got a serial killer on you hands, and the Bureau sent me to assist with profiling. Are we going to have a problem?" she said. She was so gorgeos when she was serious. But I have to focus! I can't let another innocent girl die.
"Captain?" I ask, wanting to know more about the girl.
"I didn't expect them to get someone out here so fast...but yes, I heard we'd be receiving assistance from the Bureau," she said, "Do me a favor and play nice."
"I'll try not to bite," I said. I still couldn't keep my eyes off her. I had to clear my mind...think...think...about...fish! Yes fish! They swim and eat things...I'm going nuts. I just have to focus...
I turn towards the woman and say, "Hello. I'm Detective Mal Fallon."
She smiles and says, "Special Agent Natara Williams."
"Can I call you Nat?"
"You can call me Special Agent Williams." Dang...How are we supposed to solve a crime when it take 30 seconds to say her name!
"Well, Special Agent Williams, mind if I examine the crime scene?" I ask, although I do have legal permission. I just wanted to talk to her more.
"Be my guest."
"Looks like she's been roughed up a bit," I say noticing the rope burns around her.
"And her shoulder's dislocated. This girl was dragged by the arm, hard." She pointed out.
"Something went wrong here. This girl fought back. There was a struggle." Something was wrong here.
"But besides that, she has no other trauma. Not bruising around her neck. Even her clothes are neat. No rips or tears, no obvious signs of struggle. Unless our killer meticulously dressed her, I'm betting we get no evidence of sexual assault. Hmm. That's interesting. This murder is different from the previous victims."
"You're right," I said, "The cause of death is different."
"Yes, that's absolutely correct," she said. She is so pretty when she's smart.
"The other victims were strangled... but this girl has no bruising on her neck," I quoted, "So how did she die?"
"Drowning, maybe?" Natara said. Then, a tall man in a white shirt approaches us.
"Not, she couldn't have drowned. There is no fluid in her lungs. The victim was dead before her body entered the water," the man said. Interesting...
"Special Agent Williams, I'd like you to meet Eric Mills, our forensic technician," I introduced.
"Well, if she didn't die from drowning or strangulation, what killed her?" Natara asked.
"Look here. See that tiny welt? this indicates the victim received and injection just prior to her death..." Eric announced. He seems to know too much about the case...who notices a tiny welt?
"The chloroform?" asked Natara.
"No, if this victim is like the others, that was administered via a cloth over the mouth...We're also seeing some sign of asphyxiation. Look at the petechial hemorrhaging behind the ears. That suggests that her airways were obstructed..." Eric said.
"Son of a...He killed her with the mask," I said.
"Come again?" asked Eric.
I bent down and gently removed Sophies head to the side. I touched the edge of the mask.
"Look how tightly it's plastered on her skin," I said, "My guess is he drugged her, plastered over her face, and let her suffocate to death."
"This crime is even more different than I thought," Natara quotes, "He made the mask while his victim was alive instead of doing after she died..."
"He's evolving..." I said.
"Exactly. And when a killer this precise, this methodical, this disciplined, still has room to evolve..." she said.
"That's trouble," I stated. And it was big trouble too.
"Yeah, a lot of it."
"Hey! Mal! You might want to see this!" an officer shouted. I turned towards that direction and saw the officer holding a blacklight over the body.
"Look what I found on her arm!" the officer says.
He shines the blacklight on the insides of her wrists, revealing a stamp, a circle of animals from the Chinese zodiac.
"Wait a minute, I know that stamp. That's from the Zen Club in Chinatown. It's an upscale bar and karaoke club," I said, "Given how crisp the image is, I'm guessing she was there last night."
"Someone there must have known something," said Natara.
"Well, Special Agent Williams, looks like we just got a lead," I said, excitement bubbling in my stomach. I love it when I get a lead on criminals.
I drive with Natara to Chinatown. We were silent as I had nothing to say being the loser I had because I couldn't talk to girls, and Nat was going over her paperwork. So, naturally being the charasmatic one, decided to break the silence.
"Not much of a talker, are you? Too busy profiling?" What a loser I was. Of all the things to talk about, I choose profiling.
"As a matter of fact, Detective, I am. And I'm not sure I understand why you find that so amusing," she said. Dang, she's so serious. I love it!
"It's just...Come on. The pop psych stuff probably sounded great in a classroom at Quantico, but it's not going to find us the killer."
"Oh really? And what IS going to help us find this killer?" she asked. To be honest, I don't know. I'll just wing it.
"Real policework," I improvised, "Hitting the street, grilling witnesses, and following the gut."
"Oh please. Spare me the 'tough cop' routine, will you? I've workded with enough detectives to know it's all an act." Welp...I don't know how I'm going to fix this one.
"And you think you know me that well? Have you profiled me?" I think I was just to harsh to get anything...but this girl is different.
"As a matter of fact, Detective, I have. Would you like to hear it?"
"Sure"
"Your name is Mal Fallon. I'm guessing that you're a descendant of Malachi Fallon, first Chief Police of the San Francisco Police Department?" She's good!
"So you've read a history book."
"So policework runs in your blood," she observes, "But your response to me suggest an innate distrust of women. Absent of mother, I imagine?"
Crap...she's on to me! She knows my reactions to her!
I wait with silence. I'm too shocked to say anything.
"I'm guessing you had a rebellious youth? Didn't play by the rules? Maybe even a little legal trouble? And all of this culminates in a personality type that serves authority without fully respecting it. How'd I do?" she asked. I think she did pretty darn good.
"Pretty good. But you're wrong about my mother. The woman was a saint. Now how about I tell you what my gut thinks of you?" Of course, I couldn't tell Nat that I think I'm actually in love with her, but I can tell her something else.
"Be my guest!"
"Well, if I'm not mistaken, the local FBI branch is working the Flores Cartel, the biggest organized crime takedown in fifteen years...and yet your stuck helping us with this." I was going to play it just like her.
"What are you implying?" she asks.
"You must have pissed someone off."
She doesn't reply for a minute and you can see the shock on her face.
"I'm right, aren't I? You're on crap detail," I keep on.
"I'll admit I'm not on the best of terms with my District Chief..." she stated.
"I knew it! What's you do? Blow a major lead? Get too cozy with a reporter?" I needed detail, but I was actually just joking with her, "Did you shoot someone you weren't supposed to?" That one was just nuts...I hope it's not true!
"How about you leave the profiling to me, Detective?" Oh, so she's getting uncomfortable? Well...interesting.
"All right, all right. Juest keep you gund holstered around me, okay?"
"I make no promises."
Nat and I approach and upscale nightclub in Chinatown. The words 'Zen Club' hang over the door in bright neon.
"So how'd you recognize the stamp, anyway? You don't seem like the karaoke type," she say. Wow, she's just brilliant.
"You're only saying that because you haven't head me sing," I said. And to be honest, she probably didn't want to hear me sing.
"Oh really?"
"That and I know the owner here. Shady guy, but he helped us out with an investigation a while back."
We step into the bar. It's before business hours, but a few of the staff are already setting up.
The bar owner is the first to speak, "Ah crap, it's you. Listen, I already told the last cop, I have no idea that those kids were under 21."
"Relax, Milo. This isn't about your liquor license," I say, trying to relax him. I don't want him to be under too much stress, otherwise he may not answer our questions.
"There's been a homicide. We have reason to believe the victim was here last night," I said.
Natara speaks, "We want to know about a redheadin her 20s, with a tatoo of a constellation on her lower back. That ring any bells?"
"Yeah, yeah. I know the one. She's a regular," Milo says, "Hey, wait...is she...you know..."
"Just tell us. Was she with anyone?" I asked.
"Yeah, yeah. She was talking to Jared," Milo answers.
"Jared?" I ask.
Milo jerks his thumb acros the room. Behind the bar, a muscular young man wipes down shot glasses.
"Hey Jared," Milo says, "Some cops here to see you."
"Oh, uh, just give me one sec..." he say before stepping away from the bar and tossing down the towel and bolting straight through the door!
"Damn!," I yell, "He's getting away!"
I jump the bar and grab the handle. It's locked! I kick the door in and Natara and I scramble through. Dang...she's a pretty good runner.
"Hey!" shouts Milo, "You better be paying for that!"
Jared races through the kitchen, speeding towards the rear exit!
"Freeze!" I yell and point my gun at him. He gravs a steel saucepot off a rack and hurls it at me! I duck and it clatters harmlessly behind me. He then sprints towards the stove and streaks out the back door!
"Stay on him!" I yell to Nat.
"I am!" She cried back.
We burst out the dorr after him, dart through a tight alley, and emerge onto a crowded street!
"Where the hell is he?" Nat asks.
"Keep you eyes sharp!" I reply, not really answering her question.
I look for his distinctive brown hair!
"There! down by the street!" I holler to Nat.
"FBI! Get out of the way!" I hear Nat holler.
The two of us sprint towards Jared. He spins around desperately, then darts into the street!
"Jeez!" I yell. This man has no sanity at all left in him!
Horns blare and bellow. An SUV swerves right by Jared, almost clipping him! He stumbles, pulls himself up, and keep running!
"I got him!" Nat yells.
Natara runs after him...right into the path of an oncoming city bus! No! I can't let her get run over! I think I actually love her! So I push her forwards and the bus shoots past us. If she would have been hit I would say goodbye to her forever!
"Thanks for the assist," she says.
Up ahead, Jared keeps running.
"I got this!" I yell.
Jared makes it to the sidewalk on the other side of the street. You sprint after him, hop over the dash of a cab, and get right on his heels! I tackle him, smashing him to the curb!
"Gotcha!" I say in triumph.
"Aaaaagh! Damn, man! Get off me, pig!" bellows Jared.
I dug into Jared's pockets and find a baggie of little white pills...
"I'm guessing these aren't prescription. What are they? Roofies? GHB? Your secret weapon when it come to knocking out girls out at the club?" I ask. This man could be in serious trouble if these were what the appear to be.
"I'm not saying anything until I talk to my attorney!" he says.
A few minutes later, Nat and I stand on the sidewalk. Uniformed officers have taken Jared down to the station.
"That was a pretty close call with the bus," I inquired.
"Yeah, I...It was..." she replied. Good. I think I've got her in my little love trap!
"You doing all right, Special Agent?"
"I...I am. Thank you, Detective."
"Please, call me Mal."
Back at the precinct...
Before you and Natara go into the interrogation room to speack with Jared, Captain Yeong pulls you aside.
"So, you think the kid did it?" she asks.
"Could be. Jared's connected to the victim, but we won't know if he killed her until we speak to him." I said.
"Good to see you're not getting ahead of yourself, Detective. What about you, Agent Williams? What's your take?"
"He fits the standard serial killerprofile. Mid 20s. White. Prior relationship with the victim. But he also works in a highly social prefession. Serial killers tend to be detached and awkward around strangers," Nat fills in.
"I doubt that will be enought for a jury, Special Agent," Captain remarks.
Eric walks over...
"Detective, I'e got that analysis of the drugs Jared was carrying. It's a morphine derivative called hydromorphone or hydro."
"I know hydro. It's popular with club kids who like a medicine cabinet high," I say.
"Overdoeses cause dizziness, light-headedness, blackouts..." Eric trails on.
"So it could've been what the killer used to incapacitate Sophie?" Nat ponders out loud.
"We'll need the completed tox screen to know for certain, but it's certainly plausible," Eric states, "Then again, it's also possible your suspect's just using them to get high."
"Thanks Eric. I think it's time we had our little chat with Jared," I say.
Nat and I sit down across from Jared and his lawyer in the interrogation room.
"Hello, I'm Catherine Krutzik, I'll be handling Jared's case. You should know that I've advised my client not to speak."
"That's OK. All we need him to do is listen," I say, "This is about murder."
"Murder? Why's he talking about murder?" asks Jared.
"Jared, let me handle this," says his lawyer.
"But..." Jared argues.
"I said, stay quiet!" she says, "Well, Officer, you've succeeded in unnerving my client. Now explain yourself."
"My pleasure," I say, "Last night, Sophie Patterson went to the Zen Lounge. Six hours later, she was found dead. Jared, as far as we know, you're the last person who saw her alive."
"Wait...What? you're saying Sophie..." Jared trails.
"Is dead. And right now, the evidence isn't looking good for you," I say, "Last one to see her alive...access to illegal drugs...Trust me. It'll be better if you start talking now. What can you tell me about Sophie?"
"...Sophie?" Jared said with tears welling up in his eyes, "Sophie's just this girl, you know. Cute, fun...We even hooked up a couple of times. Mostly though, she just came to me when she wanted to party."
"And last night?" I ask.
"She found me. I fixed her a drink, but that's it! I wouldn't sell her anything harder."
"Why not?" I ask.
"Because she looked like she'd already been partying. Unsteady on her feet, you know? Last I saw, she was stumbling towards the rear exit, and then..."
"And then...?"
"And then nothing. She was just gone. I figured she'd bailed."
A few minutes later, you and Natara watch as uniformed officers escort Jared back to the holding cells.
"Well, any luck verifying my client's alibi?" asked Jared's lawyer.
"Yeah. The club owner confirmed Jared was still mixing Mai Tais at Sophie's time of death." chirped Nat.
"Very good. I want it noted that my client cooperated fully with you investigation."
Captain Yeong walks over to us.
"I think we've done all we can today, at least until the Medical Examiner come back with a full autopsy report tomorrow."
"I have enough information to draw up a profile. I'll have it ready by tomorrow morning," Natara says.
"Go home and get some rest. I'll want you both alert tomorrow," says the captain.
Nat and I walk out of the office. The night is cold, and the sky is hidden behind thick clouds.
"Need a lift to your hotel?" I ask.
"It's not far. I'll walk."
"You did well out there today, you know. Even if we didn't get the right guy."
"You weren't bad yourselft, Detec...er...Mal."
"You have a good night, Special Agent W?illiams."
"You too."
Nat walks off. A moment later, Ken walks up to me.
"The your new Fed partner? She's one good-looking woman. Think I'd have a shot with her?"
"As far as I can tell? She'd break you in half."
"Heh! You happy to be back on the force?"
"Yeah, I am. i just wish I'd come back under better circumstances."
"Well, I bet your wife's happy you're not lying around on the couch all day. How's she doing, by the way? Things still good between you and Sandra?"
"Uh...yeah. Yeah. Couldn't be better."
"All right Mal I'll catch you later. Dont be a stranger."
I drive home and pard outside the street. I walk up the stairs and into a lonley, empty apartment. The lights are off, and packed boxes sit everywhere.
(Damn. The light's still out. i really oughtta fix that one of these days.)
On the far side of the room, the answering maching is blinking. I ignore it and watch TV.
'As we reported earlier, the serial killer known as "The Maskmaker' has claimed a third, as yet unidentified, victim. Police Captain has reportedly assigned controversial Detective Mal Fallon to lead the task force...'
(I'm controversial now? That's a step up.)
I flip off the TV and walk over to check my messages.
'Hey Mal. It's, um, me, Sandra. I wanted you to know that I'm going to come by at the end of the week to pick up the last of my stuff. I know you're not going to return this call, because you don't want to deal with this or anything else...Just don't make this difficult, okay? Leave me the key when I'm done. Goodbye, Mal.'
The machine beeped.
(Well, that's not what I wanted to hear right now. Talk about one hell of a day...)
I shoved the boxes out of my way, open the bedroom door, and sprawl on the tiny bed. Sleep didn't come easily.
All right! Finally! after a full day of just typing, I 'm done! yay! and sorry for any typos, the maching i'm working doesn't have autocorrect or anything. so...yeah...review!