I looked at the picture of the victim. She’d been a pretty girl. She’d been tied to a telephone pole, gagged so she could make no sound, then slowly murdered. Painfully murdered. All her pretty had been taken away. “Has anything been done on this case?” I asked, though I knew the answer.
“A transgender victim?” Officer S. Morgan sat at her desk and brought up the case record on her screen. “No.” She looked up at me. “Nothing has been done yet.” I watched her turn pale. I knew why. After all, I am the violence.
I didn’t ask where the crime scene was. I didn’t have to. The computers in my armor, and in my car, already had informed me. “Nothing?” I looked at her, and watched her grow more pale. “How long had she been dead before she was found?”
“It…” Officer Morgan grew more pale as she looked at me. “Seventeen hours.”
“So, she was left on display as a warning?”
Officer Morgan couldn’t speak.
I walked out of the precinct office, and returned to my car. Once there, I pressed a button on the dash, “17. Going fishing.” I turned on the car, and headed to the hotel I had elected to stay in while in town. As I drove, I had the car search publicly available information about the victim. I’d start with the people who lived near her, in the same building. I’d end with the police force.
Something would be done. Very soon.
Mark Ethridge (I’m not on twitter)
I’ve decided to experiment with an Armor 17 story starting with Week 239 of #ThursThreads. As always, #ThursThreads is hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read.