“Check what out?” Howard watched his partner stand, wondering if the kid had actually found something else that he had overlooked. This was not going to make him look very good, if this punk kept showing him up.
“What’s this guy’s motive?” Alexander began to shuffle through the papers, not bothering to look up at him. “What’s the style…the pattern? What links each victim, to the next?”
“We don’t know his motive and he has no clear pattern. Why do you think this guy is still at large?” He didn’t have much patience, and the younger man already knew how to wear it even thinner. “Are you actually going anywhere with this Alexander?”
“Yes, D, I am.” Howard’s eyes were fixed on him, as he started pinning up all the before pictures, of each victim…pictures that were take while they were still warm and breathing. Waiting impatiently, he watched the tattooed hands pin up a murder scene picture, of each woman. He couldn’t help but be curious, of the other man’s actions.
“Well...are you going to share, or not? And stop calling me ‘D’.” The annoyance was evident, in Howard’s voice, and he knew it. Yet, he had no desire to try covering it, as his left brow rose.
“D is shorter than Dorough and makes you sound cooler than Howard does. Besides, who doesn’t like a nickname? Everyone outside of work just calls me Alex or J. But, look at all these women, man. What links them?” Rubbing his temples, Howard kept his eyes on the kid. He was now pulling the white, dry erase board, into position between the two groups, of pictures. “Check out all the before pictures. Notice anything they all have in common…besides them being women?”
“I’m not following. There have been victims with every hair and eye color…various ethnicities…the only thing that groups them, even a little, is that they fit into the 25-32 age range.” Crossing his arms, he let out a frustrated sigh. This new partner would be the death, of him. Why couldn’t the kid quit beating around the bush, and say what he had to say?
“Wrong. Check this shit out. If you look at the before pictures…you can see a ton of things they have in common.” Howard’s eyes floated to the board, where his partner was now starting to scribble. “First you mentioned the age range…25-32…easily classified as young women. But dude…they were all hot! None of them are overweight…they all had gorgeous bodies. Their complexions…were all flawless…no traces of break outs or scarring. Overall, every victim…when they were alive…was absolutely beautiful. They appear to have all worn trendy, and tight revealing clothes…stuff that showed what their mamas gave ‘em. On top of that, they all obviously wore makeup, and spent a good deal of time, on their hair.”
“So the Defacer likes pretty women. What’s your point?” His eyes were wrinkled, and his forehead creased, as he tried to see whatever it was that the other man seemed to see. Although his brain was churning, he didn’t get the significance. Just about every man alive would have been attracted to those women…how was that a link?
“Now look…every victim was wearing high heels, at the time of their murder. Each one of them, was dressed in some kind of dressy clothing…this one was in a business skirt and blouse…” Alexander’s head shook as he started pointing to various murder scene photos. “…this one in a cocktail dress…this one in a mini skirt. Now take a peek at their tops…every one of them had on a fairly, or extremely, revealing shirt. The cocktail dress was cut so low; it’s amazing she didn’t fall out of it. Then this girl had on a slinky halter top…and this chick had on a baby doll t-shirt, that showed off her stomach. It also appears that he tends to favor the color white.”
“So the guy is attracted to a certain type of woman. Aren’t we all?” Both of Howard’s brows shot up. Granted, he could see the patterns that his partner was pointing out, but it still didn’t help get them any further, on the case. As far as he could tell, it didn’t give them any insight as to the next victim, either.
“It just seems a little crazy, doesn’t it? There is no clear pattern, as far as location. But on the other hand…his victims fit into a very specific category. Hot body. Perfect complexion. Dresses or skirts. Low cut tops. High Heels. The attire usually being tight and white. Done up hair. Expertly perfected make up. They even all have nice jewelry.” Howard leaned back, in his chair, as Alexander leaned his hands onto the table. Both men let their eyes connect, their brains taking off, at full force.
“Now we have to figure out why. Why this specific type of woman? Where does the motivation lie?” Breaking the gaze, he looked over the board, where the younger man had scribbled each point. The list was obvious, but had been over looked. The department, Howard included, was looking everywhere for some kind of connection, but never thought to look at the clothing or accessories. Connections between murders usually are more about location, or a more direct connection between the victims…he had never seen a connection to be based around what the victims wore. But Howard would warmly welcome any possible connection.
“We have to get inside this fucker’s head...think like a damn serial killer. Break down this ass hole’s mentality.” Looking back up, he saw Alexander plop into the seat across from him. Their eyes locked, once again, as Alexander continued. “Why would I kill only hot chicks that dress sexy as hell?”
“Maybe you hate them.” Howard’s shoulders shrugged slightly, not able to think of another answer. So the game began. Howard only resorted to this path, on a rare occasion. It was a last resort method, for him, and it only worked if you had the right partner. He didn’t even like stooping to this level, but to catch this killer, they had to pull out all the stops. It was time to think like a murderer. Get down to the scum level, on which the Defacer lived. The only mind that could solve this case…was the mind of a cold blooded, heartless killer. This was why Howard hated this game…he had to be the low life that he was searching out. He had to demote himself from the hunter, to the hunted.
“But why would I despise a goody…uh, woman…like that?” The two men were escaping into another world…and alternate universe, if you will. Everything around them faded, as they tuned into each other’s minds. For just a brief moment, Howard realized that maybe this punk kid was, actually, the perfect partner, for this case.
“Maybe…” Leaning forward, Howard looked deeper into his partner’s eyes. “…you have been screwed over, by a woman like that. But, why wouldn’t you just kill that woman?” Their voices were picking up speed, causing their sentences to run into each other, yet they were surprisingly able to keep up, with each other.
“Perhaps I haven’t been fucked over by any one specific woman, but women, like that, in general.” Alexander’s raspy voice didn’t seem to be getting on his nerves, as much, right now. It may have been because he was accepting the kid, as his partner, or maybe it was just because he was so focused.
“You could be the type that gets rejected or ignored by women, like that.” He countered, keeping his eyes locked, with the younger man’s. This game could stretch on forever, but it was all they had, at the moment; and any progress, was good progress.
“But then what would spark me to suddenly start offing them, now? We’ve already calculated me to be in my twenties, or thirties…why now? Why not in high school?”
“Something caused you to finally snap.” Howard’s stomach was starting to flip around. Maybe this would really lead to something. Maybe they would actually stumble across a clue, hidden amongst the craziness, of this case.
“I might have developed a hang up…a mental disorder. What could be big enough to suddenly spark that though?” By the seriousness and the tone of his voice, Howard could feel the dedication that Alexander had, for the case. There was intenseness, in Alexander’s gaze, that Howard had not seen, until now, and it was changing his opinion of the man. The kid had only been, officially, on the case for a few days, yet he had the determination, of a detective that was mentally attached to it.
“You haven’t always been rejected by the ladies.” Pursing his lips, Howard continued the exchange, growing more intrigued, with every passing moment.
“Something happened, to where I am being treated differently, by them?”
“You have a physical handicap?”
“Eh. Any physical handicap that would make me snap, and provoke me to commit the murders, would likely clog...I mean hinder me…from being capable, of actually accomplishing murders that are this clean.”
“Point taken. Maybe it is on the mental level…uh…what did you call it?”
“A hang up. Don’t tell me you’re gonna try learnin’ my language. It could still be physical…maybe just not an actual handicap. Something changed.” Neither man missed a beat, as they spoke, at high speed. Anyone outside of their focused little game would have had trouble keeping up with them.
“Or something didn’t change, that should have.” Howard’s eyes broke from his partner and drifted to the second set of photos. Within just a moment, Howard jumped from his seat, with a concentrated look. Alexander followed suit, and followed his eyes, landing on the same photos. Both men stood staring at the pictures, and then suddenly whipped around to meet each other’s gaze. The same thought, clicked in both minds, at the exact same moment.
Chapter End Notes:
Hey Hey Hey! I really do have a lot of ideas floating in my head for this, and I really appreciate you girls telling me your thoughts! I'm sure another chapter will be coming soon!
