Night Skies: A Vampire Revolution in Motown

© Copyright 2013 Allez Azul.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-4669-7085-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4669-7084-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4669-7086-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013900903

Trafford rev. 09/10/2013

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1     Vampires: Night Skies

Chapter 2     The Park

Chapter 3     Pancakes in the Morning

Chapter 4     Demon Attack

Chapter 5     No One Is Safe

Chapter 6     The Warehouse

Chapter 7     Downtown Tragedy

Chapter 8     The Mayor’s House

Chapter 9     Blue Takes a Walk

Chapter 10   Lord Dimitri

Chapter 11   This Is Not a Game

Chapter 12   I Want to Travel

Chapter 13   The Invaders Are Restless

Chapter 14   Chief Rivera Has a Plan

Chapter 15   Searching College Hangouts

Chapter 16   Iris Stays in Town

Chapter 17   Help Me, Please

Chapter 18   The Prey Is in the City

Chapter 19   Walking Alone Down the Street

Chapter 20   A Decoy along the River

Chapter 21   The Vampire’s Home

Chapter 22   The Nightspots Have Danger

Chapter 23   The Radio Station

Chapter 24   A City in Crisis

Chapter 25   Pray for Us

Chapter 26   Predawn Meal, Together

Chapter 27   Suspects along the Riverfront

Chapter 28   Let’s Have Peace

Chapter 29   We Will Escape

Chapter 30   Do Not Play with Death

Chapter 31   A Working-Class Situation

Chapter 32   Showtime in Motown

Chapter 33   Let’s Catch a Bus

Chapter 34   The Speech

Chapter 35   Meet Me at the Ambassador Bridge

Chapter 36   Don’t Take the Limo to the Brawl

Chapter 37   Driving Can be Hazardous to your Health

Chapter 38   Going House to House before the Final Battle

Dedicated to the Motor City

and lovers of vampire tales

all over the world.

CHAPTER 1

VAMPIRES: NIGHT SKIES

I t is a cold snowy night. Cindy is walking home alone. She knows this is not a good idea, but the argument with her boyfriend makes the walk home necessary. She would normally call a cab or call her father, but her choices are limited. She spent most of her money on arcade games, magazines, and hot dogs. There is no money left for a cab. Calling her father to pick her up after a date gone wrong with the neighborhood bad boy is not an option either. Walking seems to be the only reasonable thing to do, at least until she comes to a bus stop.

She walks briskly but cautiously down the street. Cindy wishes her platform high-heeled shoes do not make as much noise when they hit the pavement. But there is nothing that she can do about it. Walking barefoot down the street is not a smart or comfort-promising idea. As it continues to snow, she considered whether it is more trouble to walk instead of staying a little longer in the car with her now ex-boyfriend. But it is too late to think of that now. What she has to do is quickly get on a bus.

The late-evening full moon lights up the night sky. This is in her favor. In fact, it is a blue moon tonight, the second full moon of the month. Cindy has no problem seeing at night by the lunar glow and the sparkling white glare from the streetlights. She feels confident, maybe too confident for her own good. She decides to take a shortcut down an alley to save some time. Cindy will only be in the alley for a little while, and it will save ten to twelve minutes off her walk. She moves her feet quickly and with purpose. She hears other footsteps as she walks. She knows someone else is on the street with her. She turns around but doesn’t see anyone. Her initial instinct is to be afraid. But she reevaluates her situation. Maybe the footsteps she heard are the echo of her own heels clicking on the asphalt. She has her doubts about that rationalization, but the thought gives her reason to be calm and not think of a worse scenario.

Cindy continues to walk, but faster. She hears the footsteps again. This time, the sound is louder and closer than before. She tells herself not to be afraid, to be brave. But her innermost fears take control. She decides to jog, trot, and then run through the alleyway. The alley is long and dark. She is glad to exit that corridor and find herself on a main street with lights. Cindy continues to run and finds herself on Jefferson Avenue. She slows down a little and looks around. She sees no one. Her shoulders drop as she exhales a sigh of relief. The wind, the snow, and the calm of the night relax her mind. The natural elements of nature put her at ease.

She turns a corner, and a dog jumps out at her, barking loudly as if she is a burglar. The dog continues to make a series of short and loud barks, sounding like an alarm. Cindy jumps back and bumps into a stranger. The dog suddenly stops barking, looks up, and runs away. How fortunate to have a stranger come to her aide, or so she thinks.

Cindy turns around, and the person behind her brushes her hair. Suddenly, a chill goes through her body. She tells this strange man to let her hair go. He does, but as she looks into his eyes, she finds it hard to move away. Cindy is wondering what is going on. Move feet, move, she tells herself. But she continues to stand in place. The stranger opens his mouth. Cindy sees teeth as she has never seen before. His teeth are sharp, pointed, and fanglike. She starts to scream. But her scream is muffled by the sound of a taxi’s horn in the night. She wishes to be in that taxicab, right before she receives the bite of her life.

Cindy’s scream comes like a ship at night along the Detroit River, passing and silent. Her scream is like so many other recent screams that disappear in the night air. The screams are haunting, full of anguish and desperation. People will wonder once again if the city is safe for its residents.

This is an odd turn of events. For the last three years, Detroit has been a virtual paradise. To say crime is down would be a gross understatement. Murders are down, rapes are down, burglaries and robberies are down. But the word down can be readily exchanged for the term nonexistent.

The city has never seen or imagined the casualness and ease that residents and merchants move about the city with not a care in the world. People used to look over their shoulders while at an ATM machine, then quickly put their money away without counting it. Now people walk briskly to that same ATM machine near Jefferson and Woodward avenues, count their money as soon as they get it, then walk away from the machine, sometimes with the money held openly in their hands.

Yes, the city has changed. This new beacon of safety in the Midwest is the Motor City, Motown, a.k.a. Detroit, Michigan.

* * * * *

They said it couldn’t be done. But the truth is anything can be done if you truly believe it. These were the noble words from Detroit’s new mayor, Austin Blue.

Long live Detroit, the city of the new millennium.

One cannot tell whether the mayor is more pleased with the safety of the city or with his approval rating. Yes, the mayor is the envy of mayors, law enforcement, and politicians, anywhere and everywhere. Incumbents running reelection campaigns are quick to say their city is safe, like Detroit, whether statistics could clearly justify the statement or not. People running for public office for the first time are equally quick to point out their opponent’s inability to create a safe community environment, like Detroit.

It seems the world is spinning in the opposite direction. Detroit was once the butt of many jokes about crime, unemployment, and city flight by taxpaying residents. Now it is viewed as a city representing the pillars of prominence, safety, and stability.

But things have turned for the worse in a short period of time. The days seem shorter, the nights longer, and young college-age women are being killed. There did not seem to be much explanation for the recent murders that totaled four in one month. But the deaths put a major blemish on the mayor’s track record of safety.

Detroit has no murders in the past three years. Now it has eight senseless, unexplained murders in twelve weeks.

The mayor speaks to his aide about the turn of events. Where do we go from here, Sam?

Damage control, Mr. Mayor, damage control.

The mayor wrings his hands and rubs the sweat on his pants. He gazes out the window and looks at the new fallen snow. Thinking back on his childhood, he realizes that time seems to be repeating itself. Detroit used to be called the murder capital of the world. Now it seems to be going back to its infamous history.

Don’t give me something vague. Spell it out. What type of damage control are you talking about?

I mean we need to get ahead of this story. We need to frame it on our terms.

Give it to me straight.

The police are following up on leads. We have firm evidence that the killer or killers are from out of town. Our police force is confident to make arrests soon.

What leads? Also, are these out-of-town murderers from Inkster, Michigan, Toledo, Ohio, or Windsor, Canada?

We wouldn’t want to say Windsor, Mr. Mayor.

Why not? They have an occasional problem or two, or so I’ve heard, jaywalking and the like.

Windsor is complicated, sir. We don’t want to create an international incident that might get the White House involved.

You’re right about that. The president has enough on his plate already. Now tell me about this evidence I’ve heard nothing about.

There is no evidence until we find it. We’re just saying we have evidence to buy some time and let the public know we’re doing something other than standing around talking.

You seem to have it all figured out, Sam.

It’s damage control. But we still need to arrest someone.

You have someone in mind?

No one in particular, but let’s keep our options open, Mr. Mayor.

I can think of one or two city council people I’d like to burn.

That aside, Mr. Mayor, we have a real PR problem ahead of us. I’ll work the media and get the support of the people. We need to get way ahead of this fire, or we’ll be the ones that get burned.

Spoken like a true crusader. I only wish I had four more aides just like you.

No, you wouldn’t.

Why not? It sounds good to me.

Because your budget couldn’t afford four more like me. You also don’t want the drama and cries of over hiring from the local media.

You know me so well.

The mayor looks around and sees himself in the mirror. His suit still looks pressed from being too anxious to sit down. He paces the room, thinking of the ramifications of another dead college girl on his watch, in his city. He needs answers yesterday. He needs the police chief to conduct an investigation like her job depends on it, and it does whether she knows it or not.

Sam, I need to speak with Police Chief Rivera.

I’ve already got her on the phone.

Sam’s efficiency is both a blessing and at times an annoyance to the mayor. Sam has the workplace curse of being tall, young, and beautiful. These so-called liabilities make her work twice as hard and be three times as prepared as everyone else. She has a lot of pride and doesn’t want anyone to suggest that she got her position based on looks alone, or speculate that she is the mayor’s girlfriend. She will have none of that talk. She is an ambitious young woman who is on her way up the political ladder. No one will stand in her way and question her abilities or her work ethic.

Mayor Blue for his part knows about Samantha’s self-awareness and uses it to his full advantage. He knows he can ask her to do any task, and she will get the job done if it means going forty-eight hours without any sleep.

Hello, Chief, the mayor states in a tone the chief knows the conversation will not be pleasant.

Hello, Mr. Mayor.

What’s the good news this morning?

Excuse me? The chief is a little surprised by the question.

The good news about the college girl killer, the one you’ve caught.

I’m sorry, Mr. Mayor, but we don’t have anyone in custody yet. The investigation is still ongoing.

This investigation needs to be finished and concluded before other young girls are killed.

We’re doing the best—

Don’t give me the speech about doing the best you can. I’m a master at that speech. The only thing I need to know is who is behind these murders and when will you get him into custody?

Or her.

What?

Or her. We haven’t determined if the murderer or murderers are male or female.

That technicality shouldn’t hold up the investigation, Chief. Just get me a body, dead or alive. I’m not that picky. After all, Sam said it best. The phrase is ‘damage control.’ The mayor made his position very clear to all in shouting range.

The mayor’s daughter, Iris, walks into the room. She doesn’t knock, as usual. This is a particularly sore spot for the mayor.

Of course, his daughter knows how to knock but doesn’t care enough to change her ways. She views the move as part of her style. Besides, she enjoys getting under the mayor’s skin. Iris is in her early twenties and is always a fashionable dresser. She would go out once—or sometimes twice—a week and spend money like water.

Iris has a sense of both coordination and originality in her attire, except when she goes to see her dad at the city hall. On these occasions, Iris always wears something extra special for the visit. She pulls out her most worn, formfitting jeans with a blouse with strategically placed holes. She knows her dad would have a fit at home but will not say anything to her in the office. This allows Iris the opportunity to relish in her stunt and come home later after her dad cools off.

There she is. How’s my favorite daughter?

Your only daughter is well, Dad. How’s your day going?

It would go a lot better if you knocked before entering my office.

Sorry, Dad. Would you rather I didn’t come?

No! I’m not saying that. Come anytime. You’re always welcome.

That’s nice to hear, Dad. What’s new?

Just work.

I bet it involves those dead girls.

What do you know about dead girls?

It’s all over the news. You’d think the Lions won the Super Bowl. There’s so much talk about it on the radio and the local channels.

Welcome to my world with drama, media frenzy, and more drama.

That’s why they pay you the big bucks, Iris rationalized with a smile.

Don’t start with me. I make a civil servant salary with a city car and phone. That’s it. I don’t have an eight-figure salary with stock options like those fools at the top of GM and Ford, snapped Blue.

Here we go, again. Career regrets.

I don’t have any regrets about being mayor. The public respects me a lot more than those silver-spooned corporate types.

Why do you despise them so much?

Because they do everything in their power to make my job harder and balancing the city budget more difficult.

They donate a lot of money to your campaign and give you a strong endorsement. They must like you more than you think.

I see the man behind the curtain.

What?

It’s a movie reference. Anyway, they give me money and endorsements on Monday, and have their hand out on Tuesday. They want my influence with the city council to provide them with tax loopholes, tax credits, and any other perks they can think of.

They should expect something for their money.

I’m not a politician to be bought. Since crime has gone down, people and businesses have moved back into the city. The next thing you know, we have more jobs and a bustling economy. I’ll take corporate dollars and the union’s money, but I make them no promises. My approval rating is sky-high, and I’ll be mayor of the Motor City until I say otherwise. No one dares to challenge my office.

Spoken like a true demagogue… I mean leader.

Yes. I do have a way with words, but words don’t mean much if girls keep dying.

The mayor looks out of his high office window. He can almost see the small house he grew up in on Detroit’s east side. The mayor is all too familiar of Detroit’s good days of the past and the many bad days that followed. But now he is mayor and on top of the world. The local media likes him as much as they dare, without seeming to be his fan club. He is the envy of all mayors; and his fame, name, and popularity continue to grow. Everything is in place for a run at governor. Yes, everything is in place, except for the fact that college-age girls are being killed in his city.

Mayor Blue takes everything in stride. Nothing seems to rattle his sense of purpose or ambition. He has handled crime sprees, poor sewage systems, snow-packed expressways, and main gas leaks. All of these events seem to give him more strength and resolve to deal with the everyday pressures of being a big city mayor, but his situation and calm took an unpleasant twist. It isn’t the bad guys with guns that cause him the most angst. It is innocent women being hunted down like prey on the once-quiet streets of Jefferson or Woodward Avenue.

During these troubled times, he thinks of his own daughter and her safety. What would happen if he picked up his morning paper and found his own daughter’s name mentioned as being attacked by the monster that was roaming the streets?

He is ashamed to acknowledge that his first thoughts will be to his reputation as city mayor, more so than compassion and concern for his child.

Blue thinks to himself how horrible a person he must be to put his work before his family, but he tempers those thoughts with the fact that he has a big responsibility to the citizens of Detroit. Everything else is secondary. The people of Detroit are his family, all one million of them. Blue can live with being a good mayor and a bad father. It’s a trade-off that comes with the job. However, being a good father and a bad mayor is not an option.

Blue finds peace and contentment in being the mayor. It is something to give him pride. His persona rests on his ability to govern his city with a fatherlike oversight. Keeping his children safe from harm is a big priority for him. The recent events of college students’ deaths give the mayor a vulnerable feeling that does not sit well with him. How can he go about the business of running the city if residents do not feel safe going to the movies or a ball game? Additionally, downtown Detroit needs the business dollars.

A maniac on the loose keeps people and their dollars at home. The local business community is at his doorstep on a regular basis, demanding a resolution to the problem. Their interest and the lifeblood of the city are at stake.

The mayor can balance a budget and solve neighborhood crime issues. He can even settle a potential union strike. Looking back, those things were easy. He will take them all on again at once if he could. But this situation is different, very different. He has a stealthy predator with an unpredictable pattern of behavior. This makes bringing the case to a safe and speedy conclusion a daunting task.

Mr. Mayor, are you all right? Sam inquires.

Lost in thought, Blue regains his sense of the present.

I’m doing fine, just thinking about the next step in the process. Give me the girl’s name so I can contact her family. It’s certainly the least I can do, under the mayoral catch-all category of ‘other duties as required.’ Then I’ll have to tell the family how sorry I am for not being able to protect their daughter.

It’s not your fault, Mayor Blue. You had no hand in any of the girls’ deaths, directly or indirectly.

That’s very giving of you, Sam, but as mayor, the safety of all citizens in this city rests with me. I accepted that burden when I took the job and all the hassles and problems that come with it. I will not run away from it now that things are tough.

I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t taking—

I know what you meant. But it doesn’t change the reality of the situation I’m in. The media is my friend as long as all is well in Motown. Let one thing be out of place, and those media vultures smell blood. They’ll do a four-part series on what I’m doing wrong and why haven’t I fixed the problem.

I’ll acknowledge that the recent deaths don’t make our city look good. But people have jobs, the schools have improved, city tax rates are low, and revenue coming into town is high. There is still a big bright light at the end of this tunnel, remarks Sam.

You still don’t get it, Sam. I could have two or three times the deaths if it were outside thugs, drug addicts, or prostitutes. As cold as it may sound, the city wouldn’t care. In fact, the general opinion would be that those people got what they deserved. They lived a certain unsavory lifestyle that just caught up with them, and good riddance. End of story.

The people aren’t quite that cold.

"You think not? One time, two gang members were killed near Connor Avenue. What I just said was the entire length of the article, buried on the back page of the paper. The only reason the news got that much attention was a stray bullet went through a retired school teacher’s living room window.

She heard the crash and thought someone was breaking into her home, so she called the police. If there had been no broken window, then no story.

But two people were killed, insisted Sam.

Those were the last two people that were killed on the streets of Detroit. That is, until these recent murders.

The mayor continued to pace and look at his watch. Iris took notice.

Are you getting ready to go someplace, Dad?

What?

You keep looking at your watch. Do you have a meeting or something?

No meeting, just a sense of how long before we get that fiend.

You think there’s something special about this man.

Or woman, Samantha interjected.

There is something strange about these events.

What is it? inquires Iris.

It’s nothing at all. Let’s go to breakfast, Iris. The mayor tries to change the subject of conversation in the most awkward way.

Dad, you know I only eat breakfast on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Sundays. Today is Tuesday.

I guess you’re right. How about having brunch or lunch?

If you don’t want to say more about the dead girls in my presence, that’s fine. I have places to go and people to see.

We’ll talk again later, Iris. How’s school?

Iris left the room without another word. Her relationship with her father was usually brief but pleasant.

Mayor Blue tries to be a good father, but he feels uncomfortable in the role. His druthers would have been to have a son, a mirror image of himself to mold as he chose.

But life is a little more complicated than that. A daughter brings all kinds of new excitement and adventures such as dating. Mayor Blue doesn’t particularly like the young man that Iris is dating. The fellow has not done anything wrong. But seeing the mayor’s daughter creates a modest background check, close questioning, and a talk with the guy’s parent, just to be cautious.

Mayor Blue, if anything, is organized and thorough; but the murders keep haunting his mind. He knows he must do something. The waiting around and thinking about what to do drive him insane. Mayor Blue takes the matter to heart. He knows he needs to make a call to his special contact.

Mr. Mayor, we have a live press conference at noon today. I’d like to assist you with your prepared statement, said Samantha.

I’ll get it to you around 10:30 this morning. I’m still composing it in my mind.

"Very well, sir. If you require any wordsmithing—?

I know, Sam. You can submit a draft. Otherwise, I’ll call you if I need you. You can see what the city manager is up to. I’ll need to see him by 9:45 a.m. sharp.

Very well, sir.

Sam leaves the room.

Mayor Blue stands alone in his office, looking out the window again, admiring the new snow.

He has come a long way since his days of delivering newspapers on the east side of Detroit. Such a job would have been considered too tedious or dangerous for most teens. But Blue believed in his city, and most importantly, he believed in himself. He took on this first business venture as a means to gaining valuable knowledge of handling money and building relationships with people. People were very interesting to the young Blue. He knew most people were basically the same but also uniquely different. They were different collectively and individually.

Because Blue found people so fascinating, he took up studying people as a hobby. He knew most people want the same basic things: a job, a house, good education for their children, and a safe place to raise a family. These things cut across all social, racial, and economic lines. He didn’t read these things from a book, but he gained this knowledge through his interactions with people, both socially and via his paper route.

Blue found it astonishing that neighbors living next door to each other for two decades didn’t know as much about each other as he knew about them. He would find out little tidbits of information through his quaint conversations while delivering a paper or collecting for the paper bill. When it was cold outside, he would get invited to step into their homes where he saw the different kinds of souvenirs, symbols, and trinkets that people collect or use to decorate their homes. These things range from pictures of family, political figures such as Kennedy, or social icons for change like Gandhi and King. Others favored religious pictures or symbols such as Jesus, the Virgin Mary, or the Star of David.

Most people in the neighborhood were working-class people that made their livelihood in Detroit’s industry-related factories, or plants. Cars and car-related work made Detroit a place for families to do more than just survive, but to thrive.

Yes, Blue learned a lot about people from his humble beginnings as a youth. This knowledge he channeled into connecting with people and making himself a successful block captain, school board member, city councilman, and eventually mayor of one of the finest cities in the world.

Other communities didn’t share his admiration of his great city. Blue knows Detroit is a good town with a tremendous sports history: Hank Greenberg, Joe Louis, Al Kaline, Gordie Howe, and Thomas Hearns. It also has a great music history in Motown Records. Yes, indeed, the city by the river that is only a short drive to Canada was the place he called home.

Blue continues to gaze at the snow, and more importantly, he needs his city manager to inform him about the fiscal impact of the killings. The mayor thinks it is rather morbid for him to think of death in terms of dollars and cents. But the budget, and the overall economy, including jobs, is always on the mayor’s mind.

Good morning, Mr. Mayor.

Morning, Karl. What’s the bad news?

Oh, you haven’t heard. We had another female death last night on the city streets near Jefferson Avenue.

Thanks, for the update of old news. Now give me the budget information. How much money are these killings causing us to lose in terms of tourism, downtown shopping, and the like?

Well, we haven’t had any tour or convention cancellations, yet.

That’s positive. The mayor is relieved for the moment, then another thought comes to him as Karl interrupts.

However, on balance, we may not get any additional conventions either.

That’s what I was hoping you wouldn’t say. But it is what it is. Give me some numbers.

Well, let’s see…

Karl always made a habit of being very deliberate or very accurate. Blue needs both.

These numbers aren’t firm, but it could be a loss of nine or ten—

Nine hundred thousand, I can live with that. It’s a loss but not as bad as I thought.

Low ball would be nine million dollars, sir.

The mayor can’t believe his ears. Nine million bucks! he exclaimed.

That’s the low ball figure and rising.

We need to put a stop to this madness and get someone arrested.

Are there any suspects? asks Karl.

At this point, I don’t care about suspects. I just need someone arrested to let the public know we’re on this thing. Nine or ten million dollars and counting don’t look good for me, the police chief, or the economy of the city.

Damage control is the answer, states Karl.

We’re all on the same page. Sam’s working on something now.

Public appearances are always good PR.

Yes, we talked about that. I want to be on top of this, but not to the point where citizens and voters associate me and my office with dead college girls. That would be bad for my business.

I hate to tell you this, but as long as the killer is loose and assuming he continues his path of female destruction, you and your administration will be associated with dead college girls, Karl remarks.

Iris walks back in the office.

Hi, Daddy.

You’re back again?

That’s not very welcoming. I’ll be gone soon. I think I dropped an earring in here.

I’m just surprised to see you back. You know you’re my favorite daughter.

I’m sure that has nothing to do with the fact that I’m your only daughter.

You’re full of jokes today.

Iris bends over looking for her lost earring. Karl is watching her and seems to develop a smile as she continues to look for her piece of jewelry. Mayor Blue notices Karl’s gaze and smile. He is not amused.

Found it.

Well, that’s good news. Karl was equally worried about your earring. Right, Karl?

Karl looks puzzled but nods his head.

See you, Dad.

You can’t leave without a kiss.

Iris walks over and gives her father a peck on the cheek. The situation is awkward, but she doesn’t want to disappoint her dad. She knows he’s got a lot on his mind. She quietly exits the office then comes back again.

Julius and I are going to Chicago this weekend. He’ll have a sleeping bag. I’ll talk to you later. Iris hastily closes the door.

Blue tries to get a word in, but he knows Iris is already in the elevator to the ground floor. The mayor turns to Karl.

So, Karl, did you enjoy the view.

Excuse me?

Did you like the view?

Karl knew what was coming next. He thought he was very subtle with his peek at the mayor’s daughter’s rear end. However, he must have looked a little too long. The mayor is very straightforward with what’s on his mind.

I apologize if I did anything to offend.

The next time you stare at a butt that long near my Iris, there better be a cigarette on the ground.

Karl is indeed embarrassed. But he does not want to dwell on the indiscretion.

I understand, Mr. Mayor. Now what about the murders? I can help you with the speech.

That’s more like it. What have you got?

The opening acknowledges what we already know, that murders have occurred. Then the tone changes to ‘we are on the trail and have suspects.’ Then we reassure the masses that the city is safe and for them to still be cautious. Most importantly, we communicate the public should feel free to go downtown.

Mayor Blue ponders over the prospect of delivering such a speech. He imagines himself as the average citizen sitting in the living room and hearing the speech on a television, computer, or listening to it on the car radio. Will he be seen as a good civic leader stepping up to address a problem, or will he be seen as the reason for the problem? There is no easy, effective way to spin dead college girls. Nevertheless, the speech must be delivered. But Blue needs a way to be seen as the person in charge without being directly connected to the problem of a killer on the loose and dead college girls.

The mayor mulls over several scenarios that might work. But he wants a second opinion.

Karl, what if I give a speech on what is going on regarding the all-out manhunt… or womanhunt to find this ruthless killer? Then I’ll have Sam provide the details and answer questions on the dead girls?

So, Sam will take the heated questions about dead bodies?

"That’s about the size of it. Better her, than me. I am the ‘Fixer.’ Sam can take heat on everything else. My name and face need not be associated with the tragic events or any future