Chapter 1

'It was a dark and stormy night.' It seems when I was a kid, every scary story started out with those words. I've had a lot of nights start out like that in my life. I'm John Wayne and I'm a cop; I've been one for fifteen years. I know people laugh when they hear my name, but there's not much I can do about it.

I've worked out of a few of the Detroit precincts. The worst has always been on the night shift in the downtown areas. During the day it's business people hustling from one business to another. Crowds of people around Cobo Hall or the Renaissance Center. Down around the Penobscot Building it was business people all doing their thing.

At dark everything changes. Within just a few blocks of Downtown is some of the dirtiest, nastiest areas possible. Hastings, Second Street and many other areas are known for their dope dealing, prostitutes selling their asses and the area where many of the Detroit homicides take place.

Deals gone wrong, pimps protecting their whores, dope sellers protecting their areas, it all seems to take place in an area of downtown Detroit. I'm sure a lot of readers have heard about 8 Mile Road, which has been turned recently into a similar area. It's the dividing line between Detroit and what they call the suburbs. I've grown up my whole life in the city.

It got so bad that this year they cancelled the State Fair which was held near 8 mile and Woodward Avenue. I never missed going to the State Fair, it was a great loss to the city.

I've been on the downtown beat for quite a few years now. This area changes you. I've been married and divorced twice. At first women think marrying a cop is different but they soon find out it's not a job for a family man. I can't tell you how many times I've been shot at. It's hard not to take some of those feelings home with you. The marriages that stay together must be really special. I hope that someday I can have one of those.

I now live alone in an apartment just outside of downtown off Jefferson Avenue. It's cheap enough and suits me fine. I always sleep with my gun in the nightstand next to my bed. I hope I never have to use it at home, but I won't be afraid to.

Recently there have been a rash of violence on our beat. Usually it would be prostitutes who were beat up or even killed. There's always the dope addicts that are out of it and cause trouble, but this was different. It seems a number of businessmen have been killed while having sex in their cars.

Their vehicles would be parked in an alley or under a bridge. Always in a deserted or broken down area. In the last five cases their throats were slashed with a razor. Their vehicles were turned off and they would be on the passenger side seat. Their trousers and briefs were pulled down and they had just come into a condom.

At first we figured it was pimps or possibly even prostitutes doing the killing. Because of the economy, there were many more out selling their asses. We soon found out that the money would be gone but the wallets, credit cards, and their jewelry would still be left at the scene. So it had to be something other than theft.

I was assigned to a task force to talk to the hookers and pimps to see if we could find out anything. I hated it when we had to ball-bust these women. I knew most were on drugs, and a good percentage were unwed mothers.

We've pulled them in every now and then on raids when the mayor or Chief of Police made a proposal about cleaning up crime in the street. I really didn't care at all for the pimps but felt sorry for a lot of the women. It was a way of life for them. They couldn't make near the money they took in a day of hooking if they were working in a fast food restaurant or a grocery store.

The problem was, the ones with pimps gave half or more of their money to the pimp. It was suppose to be for protection and unfortunately the drugs they needed. Many would get beat up for not bringing in enough money. I can't tell you how many times charges were filed and later dropped.

Lately though, there have been a lot more independent women on the streets. They weren't giving their money to anyone. A few pimps were found on the wrong end of a knife or gun. A lot of these prostitutes were banding together. I've noticed instead of pimps there have been Madams in charge. For a fee they would really help the women get their drugs and bail them out when necessary.

Most of the Madams were hookers at one time and really knew the ropes. Sometimes we even had a Madam-pimp war on our hands. The Madams seem to have won most of them.

We talked to everyone we could to find out about the businessmen being killed but weren't able to get any good leads. It's funny when you think about it. Hookers were killed every month and we were sent out to check them out. Most cases ended up in the cold case file. Now a few business men were killed and a whole lot of investigating was going on.

Our task force had determined that it must have been a hooker getting even with Johns but we had no idea why, let alone which prostitutes might be involved.

They didn't have a habit of squealing on each other, which made the job even harder. I actually became something of a friend to some of the hookers. I wouldn't say they trusted me, but they did joke and wave to me when I went by. A few would talk to me. Instead of taking them to the precinct to talk, I would often go to one of the diners and buy them a meal while we talked.

In this part of town Halloween became a big thing. On the Friday or Saturday nearest Halloween, we would actually close off about four major blocks in town and let the partiers have the streets. It would be a gala bash for the hookers, gays and lesbians as well as anyone else who wanted to party in the streets.

They would be dressed in full costume to near naked. This was the one night of the year that belonged to them. The streets belonged to them. Onlookers had to stand behind the barricades on the sidewalks. The partiers would go from bar to bar and do their thing. There was loud music and dancing in the streets. It was like a mini Mardi Gras and only went on the one night.

The last couple of years Ghouls and Vampires seem to be the hottest costumes of the year. The almost-naked partiers got the loudest cheers. I'm not into the gay and lesbian scene but my motto is, 'if they aren't breaking the law, I don't care what the hell they do'.

The police officers were there to mainly protect the partiers. We would see the transgender female and male impersonators all doing their thing. There were hundreds of partiers and a thousand spectators.

For the last ten years I worked that night, and really never saw much trouble. This year I had an idea about checking out the other streets in the area for those hookers that didn't attend the party. I'll get back to telling you more about the Halloween party night later.

The last five businessmen that were killed had no connection with each other. All seemed to work at different firms in the downtown buildings. The only thing in common was going to hookers for sex late at night. Also, all the victims were married.

The murders took place about once a week. All were done on different days and the actual killings were always done in the vehicles and in a deserted area not far from the prostitution row, as we called it.

I did get a few stories about a new hooker that played it alone. She stood away from the regular hookers, and I was told pulled a gun on one of the pimps that approached her. I heard from three of my informants that she didn't look like a hooker. That meant she was either very new or possibly might be a plant.

I checked with our Captain and he told me we had two plants, who had been on the street but they hadn't done any stings in our area. They were doing stings in the 8 Mile area. They are used to pick up Johns every couple of months. Neither of our girls fit the newest hooker's description that my snitches mentioned.

My life has had a lot of ups and downs. I caught my first wife cheating on me. Lucky I was a cop, cause I would have killed the son of a bitch. In my second marriage, my wife couldn't handle my job. I really was involved in fights and shootouts. She wanted me to quit and work in a factory, but it wasn't me. I lived to go to work each day. I guess I needed the adrenalin rush my job gave me.

I've been single for a few years now. I have a sex life, and one woman who is kind of my girlfriend. We don't talk shop very often; she doesn't want to know what I did each day. She lives in the same apartment building as I do. She lives on the third floor and I live on the fifth. Neither of us wanted any commitments and knew living in separate apartments was the way to go.

We had rules we both went by. No dropping in without calling first. We didn't have keys to each other's apartment. Lastly, we didn't talk much about our past relationships unless one of us really wanted to say something about it. We did see each other a few nights a week. Usually Saturday night was our night to actually go out.

Our apartment building was five stories, with twenty to thirty apartments on each floor. We did have a private parking lot for just our building's residents. I could honestly say I didn't know five people in our building. I met Susan at the mailboxes in the entrance way a couple of times and that's how we became friends.

Susan works in one of the downtown offices as a secretary. Actually she was an accountant but helped out in other departments when necessary. She only told me a little about her past.

First, she moved into our building a little less than two months go. She found out her husband of four years was cheating on her and got another woman pregnant. He said he didn't love the woman but it just happened. I remember her telling me what she told him. It sounds funny now but I didn't think she meant it that why when she first told him.

"Oh, you just happen to be in a motel room with this women. You just happen to unzip your pants and pull out your cock. The slut looks at your cock and accidentally drops her panties and sits on your cock. Next thing you know you're planting your seed in her pussy.

"Go fuck yourself! You made your new bed and you can sleep in it."

The next day Susan said she moved out. She couldn't afford the rent of the condo on her own paycheck. She did take a goodly amount of the furniture with her. She took half the checking and half the savings they had. The following day she filed for divorce; it's now pending.

She checked with the banks and had her name removed from any credit cards. She said, "Thank God, we paid our bills each month."