Victimizing the Vulnerable

April 13th

08:08 am:

Cop cars surround the enormous town house; light flashing, sirens silenced. It is hard to tell the houses apart, except for the crime tape cover the door of house 221. I can only imagine the horror inside.

Stepping out of my large, black SUV, I casually walk through puddles. Unknowingly ruining my nutmeg shade shoes. Rain is pouring down from the grey clouds above. Thoughts are flooding my mind as I duck under the yellow tape.

"Detective!" Rebecca mutters when summoning me over to the bloody body. "Two females, three males...all strangled using the same type of rope."

The body is that of a young female. Her eyes are empty, lacking her soul. Her lips are plump like the petals of a rose bush, her hair is flowing beside her, and her neck has a purple bruise around it.

"...is it him?" I ask the ginger women standing in front of me. Her eyes are as dark as the sea. "Is it the Suburban Strangler?"

"It appears so... He left his signature sign; a single slash to each of their left palms."

"Time of death?"

"Appears to be around 23:00 pm to 01:00 am this morning. " the mortician says as he begins snapping shots of the body. "Her COD (cause of death) is strangulation. Most likely the killer strangled her using a rope, breaking her trachea into two pieces. There is no defence wounds meaning the killer came up from behind and used enough strength to kill her before she had the chance to react."

"How old is she?" Sternly I ask, as I quickly jot down what the mortician said.

"Around twelve or thirteen years old. Her breasts are undeveloped which is a clear sign that she was before the age of puberty."

"People are sick.." Rebecca mutters as she covers the body back up in a blue tarp. "Her brother wasn't much older. We found his school ID in his pocket; he's only fourteen years old."

"The perfect age group for the Suburban Strangler...." Sighing, I write down as I saunter over to the next room; the kitchen.

Not much is different in this room. There is dirty dishes in the sink, the cat is drinking out of its dish, and there is open books and undone homework on the mahogany dining table.

"Lauren Summers." The name reads. "Grade seven, class English literature."

"She must have been doing homework when he lured her into the living room."

Gazing up from the notes, I stare face to face with the long mirror. Admiring my features; blonde swept back hair, dark hazel eyes that seemed to stare into any soul, and a perfectly chiseled jaw line that any women would appreciate.

"Detective Jesse!" A deep voice shouts out from behind me. "What are you doing here? You weren't called in?"

Turning around I mutter two words, "need help?".

The man behind me was no other than Sergeant Dick Shoo. Or as I like to call him, Sergeant Dick of Sucker. The man was a monster in a uniform. His eyes were as yellow as the skin around his crooked teeth. A two pack a day guy, yet still no trouble doing drills that show up the entire force.

"Jesse, I warned you about intruding on my crime scenes. Detective Louis has this all covered."

"Well..." I mutter as I push the notes off the table. "If she did, she would have these cases all rapped up know wouldn't she? But look at this, murder number six, six murders within two weeks. With an average of four to six members of each household murdered that's....hmm... That's between twenty four and thirty six people murdered. More than the Zodiac Killer, John the Ripper, and the subway killer we caught last year."

"Jesse, you think you can do better? Detective Louis is the best in New York! You're just some trouble delinquent who happened to ace his entrance exam. You will never earn my respect or those of your peers. You are the laughing stock of the NYPD!"

Causally I stroll past the sergeant with a smirk imprinted on my face.

"You'll see.." I mutter. "You'll all see."