The figure was standing apart, alone, like someone who didn’t want to interrupt. ‘Or doesn’t want to be seen’, Turner told himself, his mind churning. Who the hell was the figure standing there? He shook his head, taking the tape out, inserting Dunbar’s again and playing it. He searched quickly, stopping when he thought he had found what he was looking for. He scanned the tape slowly…and then he saw her. He froze the tape again, his face inches from the TV screen. ‘Yes…oh yes’, he whispered, eyes glued to the frozen figure on the background again. There she was, dressed in black again, this time closer to the group of people, but still indistinguishable. She was wearing a hat, a big, black affair that covered most of the face. But even at the distance she was at, he could tell she was tall, more than average for a woman. Turner swore softly. ‘Who the hell is she? And why is she there? The fact that she was at both funerals bothered him a great deal, making him wonder about her. Did she know both officers? Was she a friend of both…what was the connection?
He breathed deeply, feeling frustration building inside him. There were more questions now than ever. Was this the killer, or was she just an innocent bystander, curious about the funerals? Turner closed his eyes, massaging his temple, dreading the headache that he knew was coming.
“Who are you?” he asked himself softly. “Who are…you…and what is your connection with these men?”
Chicago February 2, 1995 2300 hours
The sky was overcast, black clouds above moving swiftly as the wind pushed them. It looked like snow was coming again as Mariska Mason drove aimlessly in downtown Chicago, feeling the rage mounting inside of her. Instead of abating, the pain and the rage were now stronger than ever, and she realized that she could find solace only when one of the hated people was dead. The incredible euphoria, the immense sense of power, the feeling of being clean, all those things, only lasted for a few hours now and then the terrors of the darkness would come back, slamming into her, robbing her of the one thing that made her feel whole again. The nightmares and the headaches were getting worse and she was often irritated and short with people even at work. It had been a week since her last murder and she was hardly able to sleep or concentrate on her work. The bad dreams were constant, the horrible claws reaching for her, ripping her apart. Then there was the…laugh. The laugh that came from nowhere, taunting, mocking, driving her to shake and tremble like a little child alone in the darkness.
But she was not a little, helpless child anymore, she told herself, feeling the rage growing inside of her, her right hand unconsciously hitting the steering wheel. She would show them, she would kill them all and they would pay for the rage and frustration that permeated her life, she told herself, another blow of the right hand hitting the wheel again. Pain surged through her at the contact this time and a small grin flickered on her face momentarily as she realized what she was doing. She licked the sore spot, thinking that she had better use for her rage than a steering wheel. There were plenty of the bad people lurking around in Chicago.
She had come to the conclusion that now she had to improvise, work on her MO, evolve into a more intelligent, efficient killer. She had seen the news report on the last killing, had read the comments from the police and she had smiled at their shortcomings. So far no one had a clue as to who she was and why cops were being slain in such gruesome way. They didn’t even have a clue that the killer was a woman. The TV news reporters had interviewed the leading investigator, a Lt. Turner, but apparently he was as baffled as the rest. She had seen his face on the news, a young arrogant looking cop and she had laughed at him, at his bumbling manners and at his lack of knowledge about the crimes.
She drove slowly, obeying the traffic laws religiously, making every effort to avoid being stopped by a patrol unit. The license plate on her SUV was stolen from a car she had found parked at a mall just hours previously and it would not do to get stopped. Her eyes roamed the streets of downtown Chicago, not at all sure of what she was going to do, her brilliant mind running through ideas, one after another, and then discarding them. Next to her, on the passenger seat was an axe, this one resembling the one previously used, but slightly different. The previous weapon was a special thing for her, she was extremely attached to it, and she had used it to kill the two men that she considered evil, the ones that had caused all her pain and sorrow. ‘For what I have in mind now, the replica will do just fine’, she told herself She cruised the back streets of downtown Chicago, noticing the few people in the streets; the lateness of the hour and finally an idea kept coming back to her. She picked the darkest street she could find, parking the SUV next to the curb, close to what appeared to be an abandoned brick building. She got out and lifted the hood. When that was done, she glanced around, got back in the vehicle and waited. What she was about to do, she told herself, was a long shot, but it might just work. She knew the chances she was taking were enormous, but that added to the sense of power that she experienced, making the moment more thrilling, more intense.
In a few minutes, a car came by, slowing down finally stopping. The driver opened the window and signaled at her. She glanced at him, refusing to acknowledge his presence, whishing for the stupid ass to leave. She could see the driver through the smoky cover of her windows and then the man honked the horn. She hesitated a moment longer, unwilling to reveal herself to the man, but knowing that at any moment he could exit the car and come snooping around. Her head was covered with the hood of the running jacket and she knew that with the dark windows of her car, she was almost invisible to the man, but she did not want him to hear her voice. She shook her head, cursing softly at her luck. She pushed the button for the window and opened it halfway, willing the stupid man away.
“Car…trouble?” the man asked and she shook her head no several times.
“No. Thanks…just waiting”, she said, muffling her voice as best she could, making it sound as rough and hard as she could. For a moment longer, the man remained still, his eyes taking in the shadow inside the luxury SUV and then he shook his head, a puzzled expression on his face. The man put his car in gear again and drove away slowly. She sat back, relaxing, her eyes scanning the street behind her and the incoming traffic. Cars were few on the street and she glanced at her watch. This was not the best section of downtown Chicago and a grin flickered briefly on her face as she thought that maybe she would get mugged, her eyes glancing at the axe next to her. She glanced at the watch again, almost one in the morning and she shook her head in anger, frustration eating at her. Maybe her idea was not going to work, she thought, as her eyes watched an approaching car. As the vehicle passed her on the opposite side, she noticed the markings on the door and the blue lights on top and her heart jumped, adrenalin rushing in her blood. It was a patrol unit and her eyes remain glued to it. The unit slowed down in passing her and she tilted her head slightly to follow it in the rearview mirror. She turned the engine off, not believing her incredible luck as the unit made a u-turn on the road, coming back to her. The unit stopped behind her, the glaring of the lights blinding her. She exited the vehicle, pulling her hood down, a dazzling smile on her face and walked around to the sidewalk, waiting now, pushing strands of hair from her face. She saw the doors open and two uniformed officers exited the car, approaching her. She glanced at them, surprised at the fact that there were two of them, wondering if she would be able to kill two at the same time, her heart running wild at the torrent of wild thoughts crossing her mind. One was young; probably no more than mid-twenties, while the other one, the driver, was older. Both men came to her, the younger one smiling widely at the sight of the beautiful woman who appeared to be in distress. The older one hung back some, his eyes cold and hard, watching her and then glancing at his surroundings. She saw the look in the man’s eyes, noticed the way he carried himself and in that moment she decided he was the dangerous one, the one that was going to die first. She smiled at the young officer, her stomach tight, adrenalin making everything crystal clear, and her emotions about to overwhelm her as she realized the magnitude of what she was going to do. She was going to kill two cops in downtown Chicago, in plain view of any passerby. She was past caring, the intense game of life and death she was playing absorbing her completely. Her nostrils flared and she breathed deeply, willing herself to remain calm, to control herself, feeling the wetness starting between her legs. She watched the two men closely, the blue eyes missing nothing. She shivered slightly, hugging the Gore-tex jacket close to her body, feeling the moistness in her loins spreading slowly, feeling the heat.
“Trouble…Miss”, the young one asked, the smile still on his face, stopping in front of her, his manner casual, friendly.
“Yes…I believe…so. I keep hearing this…this noise and I…don’t know what it is.” She used her best smile, thrusting her chest forward, coming close and letting the man smell her perfume. Her eyes glanced at the other one, noticing he was a few paces behind the young one, still not certain of what was going on, wary like a raptor. She took a step toward him, playing the woman in distress to the hilt; the dumb blond that didn’t have a clue about cars.
“Please help…me. I don’t…don’t know a thing about cars.” She shivered then, hugging herself tight. “And…it’s cold out here and late.” She rolled her eyes around, like a nervous woman, afraid of her own shadow.
The older officer fixed his eyes on her, the stern look still playing on the rugged planes of his face. But her smile and her engaging manners were too much even for him. The hard planes softened and for the first time he smiled at her. “Don’t worry…lady. We’ll see what we can do”, he said, walking toward the parked vehicle with his partner in tow. They both bent their heads toward the engine for a few seconds, flashlights searching and then the young man lifted his head, glancing at her, saying: “Go ahead and try the engine…Miss.”
The smile that came to her face was diabolical as she climbed inside the SUV, starting the engine, her hand reaching for the axe. For a few seconds she was still and then, her mind made up, she exited the SUV quickly, glancing at her surroundings. Nobody was around, just her and these cops. She moved swiftly, coming in behind the officers, who were intent on looking and listening at the engine. She took a deep breath, glancing around again, the axe coming up. At the same time the older cop swiveled his head, sensing that something was wrong behind them.
“There is nothing…” he started saying, never finishing, faltering as his eyes took in the figure of the woman behind them, the glint of the axe high above her head.
He cursed then, “Oh…fuck”, his fingers reaching for the holstered pistol, eyes bulging in terror as he realized the cop killer they had been reading about was right in front of them. He tried to move, his efforts hampered by the vehicle behind him and the unexpected apparition that was the woman with an axe. He was an experienced cop, but the sight of the beautiful woman in front of him, her face a mask of rage and evil, unnerved him and he was slow in reacting. The woman crowded him, and he felt the hard edge of the SUV behind him, hampering his movements, and then it was too late. The axe described a circle from left to right, the woman grunting with the effort as the axe struck him on the neck, biting deeply. A scream of pain and rage reverberated briefly in the street, cut short as Officer Mullhollan felt the bite of the axe and a split second later he was dead, his head rolling on the street, bright red blood spurting like a fountain from the severed neck, his body crashing against the SUV, folding like a deck of cards in front of it. His killing had taken only a fraction of a second and even before his head had hit the pavement, she was twisting, moving with a speed that was incredible, hunting for the other officer. Officer Morgan was a rookie, just out of the academy and he was even slower to react than his partner had been. He saw his partner die in a split second, watching in horror as the head tumbled to the ground and he lost it, freezing in place for what seemed to him an eternity. Blood from the severed head of his partner splashed over him and he stumbled back onto the curb, his hand fumbling with his holster, muffled sounds escaping from his mouth. His face was a mask of terror and primeval fear as he watched the beautiful creature in front of him move with incredible swiftness, her face etched in a smile, the axe in her hands almost a living thing, hunting for him.
She flicked her wrist, coming at him, crowding him, swinging the axe. It missed him by an inch as he savagely back stepped away from her, his back hitting the brick wall, unintelligible animal grunts escaping from his lips. Terror welled up from deep in his guts as his bladder let go and he pissed all over himself. The nerveless fingers finally closed on the pistol butt and he pulled frantically, knowing that it was too late, that death was looking at him and smiling in the shape of an incredibly beautiful woman with an angel face.
The woman swung again and somehow his numbed brain screamed at him to move. He twisted his head savagely, ducking, the sharp blade hitting the brick wall a resounding blow. A snarl of fury came from her lips as she flicked her wrist, swinging again from on high, catching him on the right shoulder, a horrible wound that opened him up almost to his chest, blood splashing everywhere. The young officer screamed then, a blood curdling sound, sinking to his knees, watching with terror and pain filled eyes the angel of death hovering over him. She stepped toward him one more time, rage suffusing her face now, eager to finish it, knowing that she had spent too much time with them. The axe made its way down again, right to left and under his chin, going all the way through. But she had miscalculated the swing and the force of the blow. The sharp blade cut through completely, hitting the wall behind, the handle of the axe snapping in two. She heard tires squealing behind her and she glanced quickly at the vehicle almost stopped on the right side of the road, a head poking out the window, yelling something. At the same time she noticed other headlights coming and she glanced quickly at the body laying next to her, cursing now, the splintered shaft of the axe in her gloved hand. She reached quickly at the badge on the officer’s chest, ripping it from the fabric with one powerful yank and then she sprinted for the SUV, slamming the hood down, reaching for the door and jumping in, putting the car in gear, and stomping on the gas. She felt the SUV hit something on the ground, realizing it was the body of the older officer, and then the SUV was over him, speeding away. Her heart beat furiously against her ribs and her breath came in shallow gasps as she sped away, adrenalin rushing through her veins like molten lava, her body on fire at the closeness of getting caught. A grin flickered on her face as she realized that she had never felt as alive as she did now. She had killed two more men, two more of the hated people and she started laughing then, a soulless, dry laugh that reverberated inside the SUV.