It was cold a Friday night. The rain fell hard enough to fill a child sized pool within an hour. Less than an hour ago the fourth victim attached to a series of similar deaths, had appeared. The victim was once again a young male. His eyes had been gouged out. the weapon: a single, custom made gold high heel. The name "Maria Johnson" was engraved in the heel. The heel was found five feet from the body; the heel was doused with blood. The man's identification, said that he was twenty one years old; A whole ten years younger than I. His name was Carl Tacs; he would have been an attractive man, had his eyes not been brutally clawed out. Each of the men's throats had been crushed, as though they had been attacked, from a barrage of strikes from small, yet powerful, hands.
I sat at my desk; crippled from a atrocious migraine. This case was very different; we knew who the murderer was. A young, attractive woman; who liked to party and shop. She was a black belt in kickboxing; she also ordered her shoes from 'Heels.com'. Maria was an accountant; she lured her victims into dark alleys, behind clubs and pubs. Two months ago we tracked her down at her condo down in south New York. Miss Johnson had escaped and was now on the loose. She had been my younger brother best friend.
She had an abusive childhood; her mother had an extreme case of agoraphobia and bipolar disorder, which often caused her to get violent. The father was an alcoholic; he had not been abusive just neglectful. Her only friend was her older sister; seven years had set them apart. She was killed while attending college seven years earlier. Five young men had been accused; but not convicted, due to lack of evidence. Two of the men had committed suicide, and the other three have since dropped out.
There was a knock at my office door.
"Come in!" A young man in a blue suit opened the door. His badge said “John Blake”
"Detective Smith, I have somthing to tell you."
"Call me Matt."`My voice was raspy; hours of sitting in this chair had taken its tole. He had a look of compassion and fire in his eyes.
"Your younger brother called to inform us that he was going to confront Miss Johnson." I looked up at him. I had almost forgotten how tired I was.
"Where are they?" My voice shook with uncertainty. The look in his eyes told me what I had feared.
"I, I don't know; he called from his cell phone. The call only lasted ten seconds.If you don't mind me asking? Why is he doing this?" My voice steadied itself as I said.
"Wouldn’t you do...