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Two boys were fishing by Melman's River on a chilly October morning. The rain was cold, but only  a minor annoyance to the boys who joked and gossiped to each other. They came to fish every week  even though they hadn't caught anything since early June. So when something pulled on the line, they  crowded close with excitement and proceeded to reel it in. The object was heavy, so one boy assisted  the other. They were shocked to discover on the end of the line a dead woman bobbing up and down  in the water...........
 

*   *   *

Detective Rick Jones had just finished a report and was ready to quit for the day. It was his turn  to work the graveyard shift and he was exhausted. He was just putting on his coat when Lt.  Steve Campbell knocked at the office door. Jones walked over and opened it.

"How are you?" Campbell asked.  "I was just going home" Jones answered. "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, we found another body under Melman Bridge. Couple of kids were fishing and picked it up.  The Medical Examiner's over there right now."

"Hold on a sec. I'll be right there."
 
 

The Saturday morning traffic was almost an nonentity as Jones drove to the bridge. This was the third  body found under the bridge in less than two weeks, and there were extremely strange circumstances  surrounding the deaths. Rick suspected foul play, but Police Commissioner Portsmouth wouldn't give  the go ahead for an investigation.

Jones passed over the bridge, then took the local underpass. He parked in a nearby driveway and ran  towards the scene. Officer Joey Adams was interviewing the boys who found the body, while  Medical Examiner George Dawson surveyed the body.

"Find anything interesting George?" Rick called as he walked briskly to the body.

"No, sorry Rick. This guy is really good. No signs of a struggle, no hairs, no fibres. Nothing at all."  Dawson explained.

"It does look like a murder, though?" Jones inquired.

"There's very little to go on but off the record, yes I think it's a murder. And so were the other two.  All women, all blondes, same bridge. The pattern of these deaths is too regular, and I think  Portsmouth's a fool for not opening an investigation." Dawson looked over his shoulder to see  Commissioner Portsmouth coming alongside them.

"Another suicide, boys?" he asked.  "No Commissioner, we suspect murder" Jones retorted.

"You're so gullible Detective" Portsmouth joked. "You don't actually believe that this police force  has the time, money or manpower to go off investigating every suicide that comes about."  "Look at the facts!" Jones yelled. "The victims are all women, all blondes, all found under the  same bridge, within two weeks. Doesn't it click with you that there might be some kind of  connection?" Jones said sarcastically.

"All circumstantial" Portsmouth replied without emotion. "And Detective, if you smart-mouth me  again I'll see that you are reprimanded by your superior." The Commissioner turned around and sulked  away.
 
 

At 5:00 that evening, Detective Ray Pauls, Officer Adams, Lieutenant Campbell and Detective Jones  gathered after their shifts in Lanky's Diner, just a 5 minute walk from the precinct.

"So what do you think of the Melman Bridge murders?" Officer Adams asked as they waited  for their food.

Jones became animate. "I strongly believe that those quote unquote murders are just that, and I think  Portsmouth's a Grade A moron for not opening an investigation." A chorus of "Hear, hear" went up  from the four diners.

"You guys," Det. Pauls said "you'll never believe how serious the commisioner is about not opening  an investigation. I called up Karen Gilroy's mom, the second one. He caught me talking to her and  he chewed me out for half a hour. He yelled at me about "harassing the family" or some other  garbage."

"Hold on!" Campbell exclaimed. "Did Mrs. Gilroy tell you anything worthwhille?"

"She cried every 10 seconds." Campbell responded. "She did tell me that the poor girl was about to  be engaged."

Jones shot up. "That's it! We've got a motive!"

"Huh?" Adams asked.

"If the girl was engaged, it opens many possibilities. It could be the fiance, it could be a  jealous boyfriend, any number of things. The point is that we have a motive we can present to  Portsmouth."

"No we can't" said Det. Pauls. That's illegal evidence, I got it without official permission."

Officer Adams piped up "Has it ever hit you guys that maybe Portsmouth won't let us investigate  because he's in on it"?  "Then we need to go over his head, or he'll get away with whatever connection he has to the  murderer." Jones announced. "We need to mount our own investigation."

"Great idea, but we don't have a probable ID yet" Adams said.

"Then we'd better get to work."
 
 

Jones arrived at the precinct at 11:00 Sunday morning to be greeted by Lt. Campbell waving a pocket  tape recorder. "What's that for?" Jones inquired.

"This just came through to Missing Persons at about 10:30. It's a call from a Mrs. Pearson whose  daughter has been missing since she went out with her new fiancee Friday night. Wanna hear it?"  Campbell asked.

"Of course!" Jones replied. Campbell pushed the PLAY button and tossed the recorder on  Jones' desk.

".......what to do. She's left before, but usually she tells us if she's going to be late. She's very  responsible," the woman started to cry "she was going to be married!"

The receptionist cut in. "Calm down, calm down. It would really help us find your daughter  if we could have a physical description, as well as the name of her fiancee."

"This is the good part" Campbell whispered to Jones.

The tape continued. "She's 19 years old, blonde hair, blue eyes, about 5,4".

The receptionist said that the description was adequate. "And the name of her fiancee?"

"We never met him" the woman said, then resumed sobbing. "She said something about a Mr.  Richards".

Campbell leaned over and stopped the tape. "So, what do you think?" he asked.

"I think that we should call Mrs. Pearson and get her to ID that body."
 
 

Jones and Campbell led Mrs. Pearson down the dark staircase to the morgue. They tried to console  her, telling her that it was just a suspicion that they had and that as far as they knew, her daughter could  still be alive. Campbell opened the door to the morgue, and the three stepped inside. Their footsteps  clicked on the concrete floor. Jones thanked Mrs. Pearson again for coming , as he knew that it was  extremely difficult for her. Campbell asked the obligatory question if Mrs. Pearson wanted to  continue. She nodded. Detective Jones then slowly opened the drawer that contained the body of the  third Melman Bridge victim. Her body was covered by a white sheet. Jones gave Mrs. Pearson a  final chance to back out, then removed the sheet.  Mrs. Pearson immediatly broke into tears. "Oh my gosh"!! she yelled hysterically. "That's, that's  Jaquelline!!" She buried her face in the body and cried "What have I done to deserve this?" She  then gripped Lt. Campbell and sobbed "Did she kill herself?"

Campbell consoled her then said "We think she was murdered."

"Are you going to bring the, the awful man who did this to justice"? she asked, still sobbing.

"We're sure as heck going to try" Campbell replied.
 
 

Jones was lounging about on a Sunday evening when he heard the phone ring. He picked it up  and said "Hello?" It was Det. Pauls.

"Uh, Rick?" he asked. "I've got good news and bad news. What do you want to hear first?"

"The good news, why not" Jones said.

" I talked to Mrs. Gilroy again. She said that Karen's fiancee was a Mr. Keith Richards.

"Address?"

"Ran the name through the DMV. He lives at 554 Oak Avenue, license plate 428 VJV, drives  a 1988 model red Ford Mustang. Beautiful, huh?" he commented.

"So what's the bad news?" Jones queried.

Det. Pauls cleared his throat and whispered "We found another one."
 
 

When Jones arrived at the scene, it was a total zoo already. Officers running all over the place,  divers looking for evidence in the polluted river, yellow police tape strewn haphazardly all over  the riverbank, not to mention the news media Jones had anynonumusly tipped off crowding  outside the police tape yelling questions.

Dawson ran up to Jones and announced excitedly "This victim was dead before she was dropped over  the bridge".

"How do you figure that?" Jones asked.

"Look here" Dawson instructed as he pulled off the white sheet, exposing the victim's naked  body. A camera flashed in the distance from an overzealous news reporter. "Vultures" Dawson  mumbled. "What I wanted to show you," he explained as he turned over the body so the girl  was on her back, "is the back of her neck." Jones could see a giant gash across her neck and  down her back. "Oh my gosh" Jones uttered as he gazed at the gash. "That must have been  a pretty big knife."  "I'll measure it when I get back to the lab" Dawson replied. "But there are more peculiarities."  He turned the girl around and pointed to her knees. "Feel those" Dawson instructed.

Jones placed his hands on her kneecaps and rubbed them softly. "They're broken" he realized.

"This girl's stronger than the others" Dawson said, feeling her biceps. "He probably had to struggle  with her."

"He probably bashed in her kneecaps, then he slashed her, then he dragged her to the bridge and threw  her over" Jones said.

"Or maybe he knew this one more closely than the others." Jones shot him a quizical glance.  Dawson explained "Usually if a killer knows his victim well, the mutilation of the body is more  severe. If he doesn't know them then he just kills them with a minimum of disfigurment.

"But he was engaged to all of them!" Jones protested.

"Maybe this one didn't bite".

As Jones tried to leave the scene, he was engulfed in a sea of reporters. They pushed to get close to  him, and fired questions at him.

"Detective, do you have a suspect?"

"Detective, could you make a statement?"

"Detective, how do you answer allegations of incompetence by the police force in the handling of this  case?"

Jones stepped to the mike and said " In the last two weeks, this is the fourth body found under  this bridge. All of the bodies we have found so far are 19 year old blonde females with blue eyes.  All of the victims, we believe were engaged, we suspect to the same man. The reason we, as a police  force have not taken action in solving this case is because Police Commisioner Robert Portsmouth has  not even given us authorization to investigate these horrific crimes. Talk to him before you go around  accusing this police force of incompetence." Jones pushed the reporters aside and stormed to his car.

Jones got to his office at about 7:00 Monday morning. He sat down and poured himself a cup of  coffee. As he sat down, Portsmouth burst into his office, startling Jones sufficiently to make him spill  his coffee across his desk. "Have you seen today's paper!!" Portsmouth shrieked as he threw the paper  on the desk so hard it sent Jones' coffee cup crashing to the floor.

Jones picked up the paper to see the picture of the girl splashed across the front page. A giant black  headline announced "COMMISIONER INCOMPETENT SAYS DETECTIVE". A  sub-headine read "Portsmouth refuses to open murder investigation."

Jones shook his head as he pointed at the picture. "You know, it's amazing what kind of photos they  can print in the paper nowadays. This, this is absoulutely apalling. I share your concern that society  is on the decline."
 
 

"You know darn well what I'm talking about, smart-alec!!!" Portsmouth yelled. "Where do you get off  first, talking to reporters, and to top it off you accuse me of incompetence?"

"Come on Robby" Jones taunted. No one ever called the Commisioner by his first name, much  less his nickname. "Any idiot can tell that those crimes were murders. If I hadn't sent the vultures  after you, I don't think you'd ever open an investigation."

"Of course I would have!!!" Portsmouth snapped.

"Bullspit!! If it wasn't for me, you would have kept those murders secret. No one would ever know  about them. And do you know why?" Jones paused, then answered his own question. "Because you  have something to hide."

"I've got nothing to hide!" Portsmouth retorted.

Jones decided to trap Portsmouth by letting on that he knew more than he did. He cleared his  throat and said "We know who the killer is. We know you've been involved with him, we've seen you  with him, we've even heard you talking with him." Jones held up a mini-tape recorder for effect. As  Jones spoke the Commisioner grew more and more agitated. "All we need is some concrete evidence.  And when we get it, this killer is going down, and we're taking you with him.

The Commisioner trembled and asked "What if I open an investigation?"

"We'll keep your involvement quiet." Jones responded.

"He'll kill me! I owe him a big favor!" Portsmouth protested. "He saw it, he saw it all!!" Portsmouth  sat down in front of Jones' desk. "I never should have killed him!"

Jones sat upright. "Why'd you do it?" he asked, careful not to let on that he didn't know what  Portsmouth was talking about.

"He was scum anyway. I mean, don't you think he deserved to die?" Portsmouth pleaded with Jones.  "Selling crack to 10 year olds on street corners, and killing them when they couldn't pay him. And I  found him. It was perfect. I went in there and I pumped five bullets into his head. It was beautiful.  He wasn't expecting anything , and I wiped out that trash. I shot a bullet into my arm to make it look  like a gunfight. And no one would have ever known except for Richards. He was 14 then. He  stepped out from the back room and said "You killed my brother, hotshot. Trying to be the vigilante.  I saw you, I saw everything, He turned around and said "You owe me a favor, hotshot. I'll call you,  and you will listen, and you will comply or I will make you feel my brother's pain." Five years later  he calls and tells me about the body he just dropped over the bridge. He threatened to kill me if I  opened an investigation."

"We know a lot about Richards, but we need some evidence to link him to the murders." Jones told  Portsmouth.

"Happy hunting" Portsmouth muttered as he left the office.
 
 

Now that Portsmouth had opened the investigation, Jones' squad lost some of it's secrecy. The clan  met over lunch in the police cafeteria to compare notes. Lt. Campbell arrived five minutes after the  others carrying a high school yearbook.

"Reminicing of old times ?" Steve Adams quipped.

"Quite the contrary" he said as he flipped the book open. "This yearbook, mes amis, belonged to  Jacquiline Pearson".

They clamoured closer to the book. The pictures were quite high quality, and the squad was able to  recognize Jaquilline Pearson and Karen Gilroy. There were asterixes next to two other pictures and  a question mark by another.

"What do the stars mean?" asked Detective Pauls.

"The stars are the ones that were murdered. The first killing was of" he checked the book "Sharon  Adams and the most recent was Angela Brigance."

"And the question mark?" Jones asked.

"The next one" Campbell said.

"I'm going to go talk to Portsmouth. I'll meet with you guys after lunch" Jones said as he ran out of the  cafeteria leaving his food behind.

Detective Jones burst into Portsmouth's office and thrust the yearbook on his desk.

"What the heck is this, Detective?" Portsmouth said.

"Jacquilline Pearson's yearbook. All of the girls were in his graduating class, we know who the 1st  and 4th bodies are and we know there's only one more girl left who fits his M.O."

"So what course of action do you want to take?"

"I want 24 hour surveillance on both Richards and Kristy Simmons. I want a SWAT team ready  for back up plus men on every corner of his house, at his business and following both him and the  girl."

"I'll need a lot of men" Portsmouth mused "This could take time."

"I need it by 2:30."

Portsmouth was able to free up 10 extra men to accompany Jones' squad to Richard's surveillance base  at the home across the street. They walked around the area, trying to figure out the best vantage points  and places to put audio recording devices, video cameras, binoculars and if the need became  necessary snipers with M16 machine guns. Various symbols were made on a map of the surveilance  base to denote placement and fields of view. The equipment had not arrived yet except for two pairs  of zoom binioculars and two cameras with telephoto lenses. The rest of the equipment, including  audio bugs and remote tracking devices, would arrive after the team,called Team R radioed that  Richards was leaving the house. Another goodie was the c ommunication system to keep Team R,  Team RT (tracking Richards car) Team K (Simmon's house) Team S (Simmon's where abouts) and  Control Station (at the present) in touch with each other. From a simple laptop, Jones would be able  to call up any case records, pictures, tracking data, camera footage plus transmit audio messages to  other surveillance teams. He along with the other team leaders were supposed to file a surveillance  report once every 15 minutes. These reports would be the best indicator of the progress of the  separate surveillance teams. Jones turned on his computer and spoke his report that they were  planning out of the house and that they hadn't finished setting up yet. He clicked on TRANSMIT. He  then flipped through the reports. Team K was also just setting up waiting for more equipment, but  Team S had filed an useful report.
 

Officer Adams was adjusting the binoculars at the window. He stared intently into Richard's house.

"See him yet?" Jones asked.

"No, I can't make him out. I don"t think he's home."  "You absolutely sure of that?" Jones asked again.

"I haven't spotted him yet and I've been looking for 20 minutes" Adams said. "No, he's not home."

Jones sent E-Mail to Team RT (which was on the main floor) and told them to prepare to gor int  Richard's house at 3:15 P.M. Then he E-Mailed Control to request the audio bugs with the shipment  of tracking devices, not to mention mini-video cameras both to record the expedition into his house  and to plant in the house.

"What now, Detective?" Ofiicer Adams queried.

"Now, we just sit back and wait."

The shipment of men and machinery went off without a hitch. The tracking devices and the video  cameras were installed on the computer, and the extra men were assigned to check behind Richard's  house. The portable cameras were clipped on to Detective Chalmers and Officer Miller of Team RT  and were then sent on their way.

Jones flipped the computer back on and watched Miller and Chalmers pick the lock on the screen.  The openned the door and stepped inside. They split up so Jones had to open the second camera  window. He watched Miller go upstairs into the bedroom. Miller threw open all of Richard's dresser  drawers to find mostly underwear and other personal accessories when he hit paydirt. In the drawe  on the left of the bed were the picturs. Lots of pictures. PIctures of Sharon Adams, Karen Gilroy and  Jacquilline Pearson. Miller turned them over. Onthe back was written in Gothic script "Her lovely  soul has floated to a better place, and soon I will join her". All of the photos he had looked at had  that same inscription. Miller rummaged further into the drawer when he pulled out a photo of Angela  Brigance. On the back, written in blood were the words "She paid" . Three more photos of  Brigancewere in the drawer, gruesome shots of the girl's mutilated body both front and back view and  the most gruesome of all a timed shot of the knife slashing through her body, blood slowly oozing out  of her back as she tried to struggle against the handcuffs that bound her. On all these pictures was  written in blood "She paid". A picture of Kristy Simmons was also visible in the drawer. No  inscription, Jones remarked to him self.

"Detective!" Officer Adams shouted. "Code Red!"

Detective Jones picked up the binoculars to see Richards walking up the driveway. "Miller!  Chalmers! " he shouted into the microphone, which relayed the message to their ear pieces. "Get the  heck out of there! He's coming!" Chalmers bolted for the back door and vaulted over the fence.  Miller closed the drawer and tried to get downstairs when the key turned in the lock.

"Miller move your butt out of there!" Jones shreiked.

"I'm on the second floor Rick!" Miller yelled back.

"The window darn it! Use the darn window1"

The door openned. Miller ran to the window, openned it and stood on the ledge. " you know boss  I'm petrified of heights!" Miller shuddered as Richards came up the stairs.

"Jump darn it. Just jump!"

"Here goes nothing."  "JUMP !!!!"

Miller was so startled by Jones that he practically fell off the window sill. He landed on the grass  and quickly went back to the surveillance base limping a lttle.

"What about the car tracking device , boss? Miller asked.

"Just stick it under the car and hurry!" JOnes yelled into the mike. Miller ran and stuck the small  computer under Richards' car, then he ran to the surveillance house. Jones ran down the stairs and  grabbed Miller.

"Do you realize that you could have screwed up this entire operation!" Jones screamed.

"Sorry boss," Miller appologized.

"You should have moved out as soon as I gave the word1" JOnes yelled. "Get lost" he ordered as  he walked upstairs, slamming the door behind him.

Keith Richards walked into his room and openned hi s drawer. He looked for the picture of Kristy  Simmons. He found the photograph and mumbled " Soon you will pay." He looked more closely in  the drawer. The pictures seemed out of order. When did he last look at them? They were just strewn  in the drawer, not with the reverence that he would show. They were his shrine, his purpose. Soon  the time would come for him to join the girls in the afterlife, after the Final Payment. After Kristy  Simmons had paid for her misdeeds his purpose would be complete and he could join the others in  paradise. But what about the messy drawer? Who was here? He thought about it for a minute and  then it came to him. Cops. They're here. They're watching me. "They know!!" he screamed in  anguish. They're waiting for me to make a move. He was trapped in his house, unable to collect the  Payment. The Debt must be collected. Kristy Simmons must pay. Simmons must pay tonight. He laid  back on the bed and muttered "Portsmouth will pay!!"

"What was that?" Officer Adams queried of Jones as he manned the audio transmission.

"Push it back a little," Jones said. Automatically both the audio and video moved to the same  spot. Jones and Adams watched Richards as he looked quizzically at the open drawer and then  screamed "They know11"". They watched him lie on the bed and mutter something indistinguishable.

""Back it up about 5," Jones requested. The tape was rewound and replayed. Again the words were  inaudible. "Slow motion. Try to read his lips."

"I think he said Simmons must pay," Adams observed.

"I have to go file the report," Jones said. "This one's going to be a doozy, he muttered to himself.

Richards needed to get out. Kristy. Her name occupied his mind. She must PAY. He could call Pete  Brighton, an old classmate and also a Collector. He had made two collections while still in grade 11.  Two prostitutes. He had a different Call than him. Pete was the leader of the extermination Cause,  and he was his follower. Richards suddenly thought of Sharon and how he had proposed to her. How  happy he was when he had told Pete and then Pete had said he had proposed to the Devil's Child. He  would be condemned if he married her. He would have to PAY. Unless he made the girl Pay. Pete  told him how he collected. He would take blonde, blue-eyed girls off the street, pay them off, get them  alone and methodically skin them alive. Mutilate them slice off their faces and throw their bodies in  a trash compacter. One of them was still alive and Pete said that he delighted in her screams as the  sharp blades slashed through her body. Pete told him to collect from Sharon or he would. He  remembered taking Sharon to the bridge and then regretfully heave her over. Why the bridge? He had  read somewhere that the water would wash her and redeem her.

Then there was Karen. She came on to him at first and he enjoyed her company. They were both  intelligent. Her IQ was 149 and his 136. He found that they had a lot in common. So when she asked  for him in marriage, he couldn't resist. Until Pete found out. He said he would definatelyCollect from  her. Richards though, threw her over the bridge the same night to save her from certain destruction  of the soul at Pete's hands.

Jaquilline was the best of the three. She was hyper, feisty and afraid to take risks, go on adventures.  He wanted to live the rest of his life with her. Leave Pete and his Devils Children thing and move  somewhere far away with this gorgeous woman. Maybe Germany. He proposed to her, and she  accepted. But she didn't want to move away and certainly not all the way to Germany. If she'd  agreed, they would be living a normal life together, instead of being in a box 6 feet under.

But as luck would have it, Pete found out. He found richards before him and Jaquilline could ride off  into the sunset. Pete took Richards into the room where Pete would skin the girls. He handcuffed him  and took out his sharpest knife. Pete yelled. "You are a traitor!! You are evil!! You must pay!!" Pete  started to skin Richards leg. It was the most painful thing he had ever experienced. Richards blurted  out. "Alright, I'll kill Jackie!" Pete stopped skinning and said. "Make her pay!"

He couldn't mutilate Jaquilline. Yes, she was Evil and she must pay, but he loved her. He almost  destroyed her, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He took her to his place, he tied her up, taped her  mouth, then left to find a knife. He brought it upstairs, but then put it back, untied her and took her to  the bridge. He felt so guilty after throwing her over, that he vowed to escape. But then Pete came and  showed him pictures of Angela Brigance and of course Kristy. He kept on saying. "They must Pay.  They are Evil. Their soul must be destroyed."  Over and over again until he believed it was true . And Angela had PAID. And so would Kristy.  And so would Portsmouth. He took out his cell phone and called Pete. Pete said he'd be thre in half  an hour.

Twenty minutes later Team K spotted a figure walking towards Simmon's house. He rang the bell and  Kristy answered the door. The figure took her hand and led her out the door.

"Who's that?" one officer asked the other.

"I dunno. Better get ready to roll."

The figure walked with Kristy down the sidewalk when he spotted the cops watcjong in the bushes.  The figure drew a pistol with a silencer out of his coat and inconspicuously fired two dead shots at  the cops sitting in a nearby car. Their heads fell down, and they died. One was able to sputter  "Officers down" into the mike before collapsing to the car floor.

"What are you doing? Kristy shrieked.

The figure pointed the gun to her head and ordered "Just shut up and get in the car."

Jones was leafing through some reports when he spotted the one from Team K. He read the two  words, probably the officers last ones and sent urgent E-Mail to Control.

"Hurry up and get the SWAT team!"

The city SWAT Team didn't really get much use anymore, but were always on the ready. The  20 men turned Oak Avenue into a war zone. The snippers all crowded into the surveillance  house and waited.....

Richards' cell phone rang again. He flipped it open and said "Hello!".

"I have the Debtor." Pete whispered into the receiver. "When I come, jump out the back window. I'll  have a car and the Debtor, so you can just go Collect.

"What about them?" Richards asked crptically enough in case the cops were listening.

"I'll create a diversion." The reciever clicked.

Richards had brought the house for its panoramic view of the skyline, but the view also had the  practical advantage of being able to see Pete's car long before it had arrived. As soon as he spotted  it Richards lowered himself out the back window. He hit the ground hard and started running down  the road.

"Oh, boy." Detective Pauls groaned. "He's running down Alfereo Street!"

Detective Jones immediatly ran over to Pauls, took one look into the binoculars and said "I'm  going after him."

Pete's car with Kristy Simmons lying at the bottom of the back seat barreled down Alfereo well  over the speed limit. Pete threw the door open and Richards jumped in. Pete made a quick U-turn and  doubled back the other way when he spotted Detective Jones in the rear view mirror.

"How'd they find you already?" Pete queried.

"They've got everything staked out! I'm surprised we got this far!"

"Drive for a minute would you." Pete instructed. Richards took the wheel as Pete drew his gun  out the window and fired two shots at Jone's front tires. The squad car came to a halt.

Jones cursed as Richards and the other man sped away. He spoke into his microphone. "He got  away. He went down Alfereo and he shot my tires. Didn't see the plate. Jones turned the mike  off and hung his head in disgust.

Richards and Pete drove to an abandonned warehouse just off Washington Street. They locked  Simmons in the car and went inside. There were rows and rows of cars, probably all stolen.  They were all quite nice and quite a few looked brand new.

"So, which one do you want? " asked Pete.

Richards walked through the rows and picked out a black 1993 Honda Accord. "Good choice,"  Pete commented. "I'll go get the girl," Pete continued. He came back with a handcuffed and gagged  Kristy Simmons at gunpoint and pushed her into the Accord. Richards then sat himself in the driver's  seat and drove off in search of the final Debtor.
 
 

A car had been sent out to get Detective Jones and he had been brought back to the surveillance  house.

"I'm such an idiot!" he moaned. "I should of known he'd try to shoot the tires. I never should  of chased him without backup."

"No sence crying over spilt milk Detective." Sargent Campbell consoled Jones. "What we do  now," he continued "is try to figure out what to do next."

"She's probably in the river by now!" Jones wailed. "And it's my own darn fault!"

"Hold it!" Campbell exclaimed. "That's it! The river!"

"Huh?" Jones mumbled.  "He's going back to the bridge! He has to!"

"Yeah, but what if he sees us? Then he'll just turn around and kill her the some other way." Jones  reasoned.

"Haven't you read any criminal psychology books?"

"Yeah, when I need some sleep, " JOnes quipped.

"The criminal always returns to the scene of the crime. It's been proven."

"But what if he doesn't? Jones interjected.

"Look this guy is twisted, Rick. You've seen the pictures and the markings. He believes in payment  or some other New Age junk. The killings are a ritual to him and he's not going to change anything.  So we'd better get over to that bridge!"

"Let's hope we aren't too late."

Outside 15 Josephson Crescent, Keith Richards parked the Accord and walked to the door. He  drew a crowbar and pryed the door open. A security system wailed, waiting for a code. Upstairs  Commissioner Portsmouth entered the code. The dog probably set off the motion detector again he  thought. I'm going to have to reconfigure it. As that thought crossed his mind, the bedroom door burst  open and a mad Keith Richards stood at the door. He drew a gun with a silencer and started shooting  Portsmouth.

"You traitor! You must pay! You are an evil thing! Evil!" he laughed as Portsmouth's blood  splattered across the bedroom. He loaded another magazine and continued pumping the hot lead into  Portsmouth still laughing. Richards loaded eight bullets into Portsmouth's head until his brains oozed  out on to the sheets. As a final insult Richards turned him over, drew a knife and engraved  PAYMENT into his back. Richards surveyed his work then shut the bedroom door and left.

Jones was keeping watch on the bridge wit Lt. Campbell and Detective Pauls when the message from  Officer Adams came over.

"Rick?" Adams asked.  "Yeah?"

"Portsmouth was found dead 15 minutes ago. He had over 50 bullets in him and PAYMENT  carved on his back. It's pretty gruesome. They found his arm under the bed. He was completely  mutilated.  "Uh, thanks," Jones muttered.

"I think your man is ready now."

Forty five minutes later, Richards came over the bridge. He stopped the Accord and got out.  Immediately Jones and two other cars came up the bridge. Sensing danger, Richards quickly  grabbed the girl out of the car. He stripped her, took out the knife and started to methodically  cut her back open. Kristy winced in pain as the knife slowly cut into her body.

Jones jumped out of the car and drew his gun. "Freeze!" he yelled. Richards was stunned for  a moment, but the resumed slicing the girl's back as she moaned. Campbell and Pauls drew their  guns as well pointed them at Richards shose slashes at Simmons became more violent. Blood poured  out from the top of the girl's back and dripped over the bridge into the river.

Jones continued to point his gun at Richards. "Look here!" he commanded. "Drop the knife  over the bridge!" I know how to use this thing. Drop the knife or I'll shoot!" he threatened.  Richards visciously slashed the knife across Simmon's back as she tried in vain to scream.

"Drop the knife or I'll blow your brains out!!!" JOnes yelled. Richards picked Simmons up and lifted  her over the guardrail. He ripped the duct tape off her mouth, at which point she emitted a  bloodcurdling shreik. Richards undid the handcuffs and covered the girl's mouth with his hand.

Campbell radioed for the SWAT Team and told them to fire on command. Jones stepped forward, gun  trained on Richards. "I'm not afraid to use this. I'm not afraid to shoot you."

Richards held the knife to Simmon's throat. "I'd like to see you try Detective, Richards taunted.  "Inside Detective you want to be a bigshot who blows the spit out of me. You want the publicity of  solving this case. But you know something hotshot? You're afraid. Your scared. C'mon hit me Take  your best shot. Get you name in the papers. Be a hero."

Campbell radioed the SWAT Team to fire in ten seconds. The sniper set his scope on Richards.

"Shoot me Detective. They'll give you the key to the city. Girls swarming all over you. Are you man  enough Detective."

"Six -Five-Four" Campbell counted down.

Jones could stand it no longer. He fired off three bullets into Richards' chest. The blast knocked him  over into the river, still clutching Kristy Simmon. They both fell over the bridge into the water. Their  bodies hit with a splash and they were engulfed by the waves. The Melman squad leaned over the  guardrail and watched Simmon's head bob in the water and then sink again.

Detective Pauls and the rest of the squad stared at the river in horror. Jones shook his head in  disbelief. "It's my fault" he wailed, "It's all my fault1"

"Look, she would of died anyway," Campbell consoled him. "If it wasn't for you, we never would  of got as close as we did. Plus who knows how many more he would of killed."

"I killed him in anger. I should of waited for the SWAT team. Then Kristy might still be here.  I let my hatred get in the way of common sense and an innocent life is lost because of it."

"She was losing so much blood. She would of died in the ambulance if she wasn't dead already. You  couldn't have saved her. " Detective Campbell tried to reason with Jones.

"You don't understand!" Jones yelled hysterically. "I killed that girl. I killed her!"

"No, you didn't! You killed Richards and he deserved to die!" Campbell replied.

"And I killed Portsmonth!" Jones continued.

"That ludicrous!"

"Steve," Jones said as he removed his badge, "after today I don't deserve to be a cop."

"Rick, that's silly. You're the hero for cracking this case. " Campbell answered.

Jones leaned over the guardrail and took his gun out of his holdster. He lightly dropped his gun and  badge into the river. They made a splash, then drifted downstream.