Sonya stands at the bar and looks around the room, as soon as she locks eyes with him, she knows that tonight, he is the one, she can feel it between her legs, becoming moist at the thought of his touch. He casually makes his way towards her, both exchanging smiles.

“What’s a pretty thing like you, doing in a shithole like this?” he asks as he leans up against the bar, next to her.

“Not very original,” she says with a playful smile. “I would’ve thought someone like you could’ve come up with something more original to get me to go home with you.”

He lets out a laugh, “Honey, taking you home is the last thing on my mind. I was thinking we just head out back and I smash that fucking gorgeous arse of yours until you can’t walk.”

“You think you’re that good?”

“Eight inches good,” he says with a broad smile.

“Well, Mister Eight Inches Good, why don’t we leave this shithole, as you call it, and get better acquainted with each other elsewhere?”

“Fuck honey, I know you won’t believe it, but I just grew another two inches,” he says as he holds out his hand for her to take.

“Cowboy, you better have something mighty fine to replace all this hot air you’ve been filling me up with,” she says as she takes his hand.

“Honey, you’ve never seen anything like what I’ve got between my legs, I can guarantee that.”

 

#

 

Pine Crest Cemetery has been for the last 85 years a place where Law Enforcement officers who die in the line of duty call their final resting place. Superstition keeps most of the current officers away as it shows them what their future will eventually become and they believe in some small way this place is haunted by the ghosts of their past, the ones who never made it out, survivor’s guilt for most of it. For Gary, tonight is not the night to avoid the future or the past, he kneels at the base of a headstone and lays flowers beside it, he gently wipes away the dead flowers and grass that’s grown around the plaque, the words ‘Louise Melissa Jackson’ are written across the front of it. Gary takes a deep breath and sits down facing the headstone.

“Hi baby, you wouldn’t believe what sort of day I’ve had and I’m sorry I haven’t been to visit lately, it’s been pretty tough for me these past few months, I’ve got this psycho who keeps raking up the bodies and this city just keeps getting worse. I feel like I’m losing more of myself each day, losing who I was, I just wanted to come and let you know I still love you, and I think of you every day and one day I hope after all this is over, I’ll have done enough to earn my place by your side.”

Gary’s phone begins ringing and he pulls it out of his pocket, “Sorry it’s Danny,” he says as he answers it. “Do I need to even guess why you’re calling me?”

“I don’t think you should, tenths and seventh, you can’t miss us.”

“Ok, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he hangs up the phone and looks into her disappointed eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, you know the last thing I want to do is go.”

“I know, but it’s who you are, it’s why I loved you.” she says.

“Next year, I’ll stay longer, I promise.”

“You don’t need to keep coming to see me, it wasn’t your fault what happened.”

“I don’t blame myself, I just never want to forget you,” Gary says as he wipes the tears from his face, he kisses his index finger and middle finger and presses them against the headstone.

 

#

 

Detective Sergeant Brian Wishwilson gets out of his cruiser and walks over to the deserted Lucaston Lookout and lights up a cigarette, he takes a long drag and relaxes as the drug hits where it needs to.

“You know those things will kill you?” a voice says from out of the shadows.

“Plenty of things will kill you” Wishwilson replies. “Strange place for a meeting, not the usual spot.”

“That’s because I’m not your regular contact.”

“So why the urgent call, the boss getting jumpy because of the shit that went down last week?”

“No, your boss, as you call him, is unaware of our little meeting detective. This is about you!” the man replies as he walks out of the shadows, dressed in black and holding a blaster towards Wishwilson.

“What the fuck?” Wishwilson goes for his blaster, but the man fires a shot that rips through his shoulder and sends him crashing to the ground. “Do you realise who I am, what you’re doing?”

“I know exactly who you are, so let’s have a talk about how dirty a cop you are.”

 

#

 

“I wish I had something new to tell you,” Danny says as he gets to his feet and stands beside Gary. “I hated calling you in, but I know you would have been more annoyed if I hadn’t.”

“It’s OK, over the last few years, if anything, she understands what I do, and she doesn’t hold it against me.”

“So where do we go from here, this sick fuck is a few steps away from being one of the worst serial killers we’ve dealt with in the last eight years, Gleeson mentioned pressure from upstairs earlier, but he pushed back because he doesn’t want to send the killer in a spin if you are taken off the case.”

“I know, Tralmane stuck his nose in earlier today, sniffed around like the piece of shit he is and then scurried away, Divisional won’t touch this unless it goes all kinds of sideways.”

“How long do you recon that will be?”

“A week, maybe less, our killer is fulfilling something, but the way the kills changed, the way they’ve evolved into what they are now, they are going to push the boundaries, challenge us more.”

“So you’re thinking our little friend is going up the ante?”

“Has to, everything evolves, and our killer will as well.”

“Then you’ve got to crack this case before they do.” A voice says from behind, Gary and Danny turn to face Superintendent Bill Gleeson, head of District-Three. The spotlight shines off his bald head as he runs a hand through his goatee, standing just over six feet tall and with the build of a man who enjoys his food, makes his silhouetted form look intimidating.

“Our killer needs to give us something first,” Gary replies.

“Or you give them something.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking you do what you do best, piss them off,” Gleeson says as he points towards the news crews that stand on the outskirts of the police barrier. “I normally wouldn’t recommend it, and I’m not, but it’s an opportunity to push buttons I know you push well.”

“You’re the boss, and I expect the back lash I’m going to get will be minimal?”

“As minimal as I can make it, you get a result then it will disappear for good.”

Gary strides over to the media and they go into a frenzy, screaming out questions, fighting to get towards him and Gary holds up his hands.

“Steady on, this is going to be quick and to the point, so I hope you’re all ready because I’m not answering questions. This is directed at the piece of shit who you’ve called the Sunset Slasher. I’m going to get you, and when I do, the law is not going to be in the same room as you and I. In that room I will beat your pathetic, fat little face into a pulp, your little taunts, they don’t and will never scare me, and if you had balls you would come and face me you limp dick piece of shit.” With that he walks back towards Gleeson and Danny, the media screaming questions at Gary, but their words fall of deaf ears as he cares nothing for what they wish to know.

 

END OF ACT III