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| Prologue: Death in the City | |
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No one noticed the first killing. It was an unpleasant experience for the subway maintenance crew that found him, and particularly unsettling for the rookie Coroner who had to crawl in there with him. She found herself face to face with an empty brain pan, the skull cut open clean as a whistle and the brain scooped out just as expertly. At least that was the way he must have looked right after it happened. That was a few weeks before he got found. And in the meanwhile the rats and the microbes had had their way with him. His flesh was rotting, his eyes and cheeks had been torn out, altogether the stuff of nightmares.
Dr. Mulroon embarrassed herself that day. She threw up, which displeased the Detectives when they arrived, though so long had passed since the body had been dumped there that it made no difference to their investigation and the overall change in the smell was too minor to be noticed. She screamed, which made the maintenance crew laugh in a bluff, but cruel way before they helped her out of there. And she had to be sedated to get her to stop screaming. Which went on her permanent record. And she swore to herself that she would be ready for the next one. She wasn't. The second body was found a week later, tossed into a ventilation shaft underneath the New York Stock Exchange. It was also in an advanced state of decay. Dr. Mulroon climbed into the shaft to inspect the body. She was nervous. Her awkward movements dislodged the corpse and it fell on her, almost as if it were trying to embrace her. Her screams were heard on the Stock Exchange floor, but caused no pause in the day's business.
The name stuck.
All hell broke loose when they found the fourth body. She had been a pretty girl and it looked like she'd been molested after she was killed, perhaps by several people. Perverted sex, mutilations, and an unknown killer stalking the underbelly of the city? This was the stuff newspaper editors get wet dreams about.
And, of course, there were the concerned citizen's outrages at the police for not having caught the killer in time (thank God) to prevent such a tragedy. The police commissioner appointed a special task force to catch the Subway Killer with Captain Dombrowki in charge.
Dombrowski knew the score. He didn't give a rat's ass about the politics. He just wanted to get the job done and get out clean. He pulled detectives from both Precincts. Mostly he got the rookies, the ones too dumb to get out of sight or without enough clout to get assigned elsewhere. He set up shop in a tiny room on the fifth floor, and they started to look for evidence.
That made it a Federal case. The killer had crossed state lines, or at least his victim had, and the FBI would be given jurisdiction. It didn't get Dombrowski off the hook. It just made him the tool of yet another power block. The Feds would use his team as foot soldiers and take all the glory themselves. If the cops screwed up, they'd get the blame. If they caught they guy, the Feds would get the credit. Life sucks in the city. Pick up the investigation at this point. The Player Characters are all in attendance at Mayor Rudy's and Commissioner Merton's Press Conference.
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Alice Mulroon had joined the Coroner's office only a few months before she got sent to pronounce over the first of what would become known as the Subway Killer's victims. She thought she was hardened to what she might find. She discovered, squeezed into a narrow inspection crawlway with a rotting body with no face and no brain, that she wasn't.
The Daily News blurb on the discovery of the second victim used the headline Subway Killer Strikes Again. It was only a paragraph or two on an inside page, after all, the two victims were street people at best, more likely mole people, who counted for less, if that were possible in the second richest city in the world.
Victim number three was another non-person, but his decaying body was found in a storm sewer outlet by children. Kids are always good news items. The story made the second page this time: Kids Find Subway Killer's Third Victim. No one really cared yet, but the police commissioner let the 1st and 5th Precinct Commanders know that he didn't want any more kids finding bodies on their beats.
It even made the front page of the Times, below the fold. The Daily News gave it the whole front page and a double spread inside as well. There were photographs of the girl, carefully composed so as to show how pretty she was but not give any real indication of how much damage had been done to her. After all, you want people to read the paper. Nobody profits if your audience is throwing up all over the ads.
Dombrowski was from the 1st Precinct. In his mid fifties he was a year or two away from retiring. He was picked because the commissioner didn't like him. If he fucked it up, he could be given to the wolves without losing a friend. If he got they guy, his star would rise, but he wouldn't be around long enough to have any real influence on the way things get done. He looked good enough on paper to be in charge, and he was pig-headed enough to actually do the job without trying to duck the responsibility.
Just about that time, victim number five showed up. This guy showed signs of being an escaped felon, someone with good medical records who they might actually be able to trace. The unit was just starting to get in stride when a sixth victim showed up on the other end of the Holland Tunnel, in Jersey.
| INVESTIGATORS | NARRATIVE | EVIDENCE | BACKGROUND | RESOURCES |