Jean: The Box Cutter Murders Ch. 02

Jean and the Box Cutter Murders

Content Warning: The following chapter is part of a novel-length murder mystery with graphic violence and gratuitous non-consensual sex. Since I am writing for Literotica, the story contains more sex than mystery.

Sensitive readers should look elsewhere for entertainment.

This story took place in 1977. There were no cell phones, no internet and computers were scarce.

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Chapter 2: The Sting

I was exhausted when I got to my contract law class the next morning and had a harder time than normal staying awake. The only good part was that I didn't get called on. It was a small class, and the only explanation for being ignored was that the professor was tired of my repeated failures to answer even the simplest questions.

Despite the massive dose of coffee, I had consumed before class, I found it impossible to pay attention. I was still sore from my encounter with Jamel and Youssef the night before. I was conflicted when I recalled the events in the washroom. I had been firm when I told Jamel I didn't want to have sex with him, but after the initial pain of being penetrated by his big black cock, I had responded with one orgasm after another. I still couldn't believe he had fucked me for over an hour on top of the rumbling clothes dryer. The multiple orgasms had transported me into a state of mindless bliss.

As I recalled last night's unrelenting ecstasy, I became aroused and fidgeted in my seat at the conference table. A psychiatrist at Cornell had diagnosed me with hypersexuality as manifested by my compulsive masturbation and sexual behavior. I was horrified when he said the old terminology was nymphomania. He went on to warn me I could easily lose self-control during sexual encounters and suffer physical harm. I shuddered as I recalled his warning and the assault by Youssef. The orgasm I had as he choked me out was the most intensely mind-blowing experience in my life. I redoubled my resolve to avoid the brothers. I had no desire to end up as their sex slave even if the notion made an erotic masturbation fantasy.

My shrink had suggested I find a safe partner and limit my sexual activity to one person. Steve was the partner I had chosen, and I had been content with our sex life once I taught him a variety of techniques to satisfy me. Unfortunately, my boyfriend was in California, and I had no safe outlets for my overwhelming needs.

I prayed Steve never learned of my dark side. As far as he knew, I had only had a handful of sex partners beginning with my senior prom date. He claimed to be open-minded about sex, but I worried that deep down he might be like every other man and demand a wife that was a blushing virgin. In the middle of the sexual revolution, it didn't seem fair that men still didn't allow women to relish sex in the same way men had always done. I had reasons to be concerned. Our last few summers together had been filled with intense sex, and he had begun to tease me about being his 'little nymphomaniac.' My response to Jamel and Youssef frightened me. Everything my shrink had warned me about had come true. I wondered if I should encourage Steve to be more domineering to protect me from exploring my sub missive urges.

After class, I had a quick lunch from one of the few food trucks open during the summer. I hesitated before heading to my afternoon appointment with my criminal law professor. I hadn't learned anything of value from talking with David's cousins at the rent party. All I had to show for it was my disturbing memory of rough sex and bite marks on my tits.

Michael was meeting with his other summer intern in his law school office. I had to wait for Rachel to leave. As usual, his meeting with her ran over. From what I could overhear from the hallway, she was making excellent progress on another case. Finally, Rachel walked out of his office smiling. Just to make me feel worse, Michael was laughing at some private joke they shared. I walked in, and Michael scowled as he waved me to a hard wooden chair.

"Well?"

"I managed to talk with Jamel, but he didn't say much. He said he left work late the night of the murder. He met up with Youssef and David and the three of them hung out for a couple of hours until they ditched his idiot cousin. The next morning, he was surprised to find out that David had been arrested for murder. I asked where they went after they left David, but he refused to say anything more. I'm sorry. It was a big waste of time."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Jean. That is a useful bit of information. It wasn't in any of the police reports. It may help us track David. Few people forget Jamel and Youssef when they see them, but David is so bland no one remembers him."

I didn't want to discuss the impression Jamel had made on me. Certainly, Michael was right about Jamel and Youssef being unforgettable.

I said, "I think David is protecting his cousins. Maybe I should interview him next."

"Jean, you will need to interview David eventually, but we need to know a lot more before we confront him."

"I made some suggestions in my workup for the case. I'd like to review the evidence with the coroner's office. I want to talk to the woman that actually raised David. I can't believe the police didn't interview any of the prostitutes working the corner with the victim. Hell, they didn't even interview the victim's roommate."

Michael said, "I sent Rachel out to talk to the victim's roommate last week. She found out that Marian is from the same village in Moldova as the victim. They also had the same pimp. That was all Marian would say. Rachel said the young woman was agitated, but she thought her refusal to talk more might just be because Rachel was dressed professionally. As an illegal immigrant, Marian has reason to be afraid of the police. She said that Marian appeared to be very talkative with her co-workers."

"Maybe I could try to talk to her. I have no problem going casual."

Michael rolled his eyes at my khaki shorts and Bruce Springsteen tee shirt.

"Jean, you will only get one shot. Marian is from a different world. She is comfortable with prostitutes and pimps. I doubt she will give you the time of day."

"What if I dress up as a prostitute? You saw the outfit I wore to the rent party."

"Yeah, I saw the outfit, but the problem goes beyond clothes. Marian feels comfortable around people she knows. I doubt you want to hang around on a street corner dressed like a prostitute until Marian learns to trust you."

Maybe I had seen too many movies. I was thinking of Paul Newman and Robert Redford in 'The Sting' when I said, "We could set up a sting where I'm a prostitute, and the two of us get into some kind of jam. I think a little drama would help to break the ice."

"Jean, that is probably the craziest idea I have heard in all my years as a criminal lawyer. What is really insane is that I'm even considering it. Let me think about it overnight. Maybe I'll talk to our friend Samuel. Besides being a drug dealer and a good dancer, Samuel is a small time pimp."

"Is that why when you introduce me, he asked you if I was free?"

Michael laughed and said, "I think you need to go study contract law. I heard a rumor, you have a pop quiz tomorrow. I'll talk to you about your hair-brained sting tomorrow."

I was happy Michael was at least going to consider my idea. It was spur of the moment, and I hadn't thought it through. As I studied for the quiz that professor had improperly warned me about, my thoughts kept going back to my hair-brained scheme. The more I thought about it, the more nervous I became.

I bombed the contracts quiz. Evidently, advanced warning wasn't even enough to help me pass a quiz on a subject that I hated.

I met with Professor Williams after lunch. I was convinced that my sting operation was the dumbest idea I'd ever come up with.

"Jean, I think your plan is brilliant."

"What, no..."

"I talked with Samuel. He is willing to work with you masquerading as a prostitute, and he will bring you to work the same corner as Marian. She works for another pimp, but the corner is busy, and several pimps use it. He'll introduce you as a new girl with no experience. A couple of my friends will come by and hire you and Marian for a party back at their hotel. We'll get a suite so each of you will be in a different bedroom. The guys will take turns with Marian, so she doesn't get suspicious. She won't know you're not having sex with the guys."

"After both guys have sex with Marian, we'll stage a fight between you and one of the guys. She'll hear some screams, slaps and your body being slammed against a wall. A little makeup will make it look like you got roughed up. Once the guys leave, I expect she'll comfort you. I hope you can sob on command. You can ask if she's ever been beaten. Hopefully, you'll be able to get her to talk about what happened to her roommate. She was working the same corner as Inesa the night her roommate was killed. Unless she was off with a John, she would have been present when her friend was picked up by the killer."

I stared at Michael for a moment. "Are you sure I won't be in any danger. I don't want to have sex with some stranger even if it gets David out of jail."

"Jean, you'll be safe. No one will mess with one of Samuel's family. I know a couple of guys who owe me a favor and will be happy to participate in your sting. They'll leave you alone in exchange for free sex with Marian."

"Family?"

"Samuel is the Daddy, and his stable of prostitutes is his loving family."

"I'm glad to hear Samuel is so caring. It makes prostitution sound almost wholesome."

"Don't go all women's liberation on me, Jean. This sting was your idea. If you want to back out, now is the time. I must say I'd be disappointed. Your sting idea gave me hope you would prove valuable in the struggle against injustice. I just hope you have another idea how to save Daniel."

Professor Williams had a knack for motivating liberal white girls. He had me, and he knew it. "Sorry Michael, it's my only workable idea. Since you promised me I will be safe, I'll do it."

Michael stood up and said, "Glad to hear it, Jean. You have nothing to worry about. Come on, Samuel's waiting at The Slot. We can discuss the plan over drinks. If you see any problems, we can fix them."

Michael took my arm and walked me out of his office. "Why can't Samuel come here? It would be more private than a hole in the wall bar."

"Samuel is persona non-grata on the Temple campus. It seems he has tried more than once to recruit coeds as prostitutes."

#

The Slot is a small bar just off of the campus. Its name comes from the fact that the narrow bar is wedged between two large buildings. It is frequented by college students, but during a summer afternoon, the dingy bar was empty. It was only a little cooler than the street. Michael directed me toward a booth in the back where I could see Samuel's sullen face. Michael headed toward the bar.

I said, "Well, Samuel, the last I saw of you was your back as you left the rent party. You abandoned me. I thought Michael asked you to keep an eye on me."

"No, no, no, I didn't abandon you. I waited outside and kept an eye on the door to make sure Jamel didn't run off with you. It's all good, babe."

"I remember two doors to the apartment. How did you manage to watch both?"

"Hey, the only reason I am here is that Michael once got me out of a murder wrap and I owe him. If you don't want my help, I'll be on my way. This sting of yours is distracting me from making money."

I would have complained more, but Michael showed up at the table with two glasses and a pitcher of beer. The bartender was right behind him with a carafe of white wine and a glass for me. He poured me a glass of wine that barely made a dent in the liter jug.

Michael said, "I remember from the law school Christmas party that you like white wine."

Samuel said, "Maybe you can run through the plan for me."

Michael spent a good half hour going over the details. Samuel and I took turns objecting to parts of the plan. It seemed as if one of us always had an answer to the problems we discovered. I was nervous and kept sipping the wine. It was barely drinkable, but by the time we wrapped up the plan, I was down to the last couple of inches in the carafe.

Michael said, "The only time you have to pay attention is when my guys arrive at the corner. They'll be in a white Cadillac. They'll talk to Marian first and work out a deal for two girls. Once they call you over, the rest of the plan is easy until the end. After you fake getting roughed up, you'll be on your own with Marian. Hopefully, you can get her to talk."

"So, if I'm going to be a hooker standing on a street corner, what is to prevent some stranger from coming along and asking me for sex?"

Samuel said, "That's why I'm going to stay with you. I doubt I'll have any trouble convincing everyone that you are a raw recruit. If some stranger propositions you, I'll come up with a reason to turn them away."

Michael said, "The plan is to have the Cadillac show up soon after you arrive. It will only take a couple of minutes for Samuel to introduce you as his new girl. Marian knows Samuel as a pimp and drug dealer going by the name Candy Man. She shouldn't have any suspicions when Samuel shows up to show a new girl the ropes."

I nodded my head in agreement and poured the last of the wine into my glass.

Samuel said, "For this to work, I have to treat you the same way I would any other recruit. You are going to have to respect me, or Marian will get suspicious. She won't know that you aren't actually turning tricks but other than that you have to be a genuine prostitute. Do you have any objections?"

I could sense that Samuel was going to keep pushing me in the hopes I would stop wasting his time. "I already said I would do it. You are right, I have to be in character for the sting to work."

Michael said, "Great, I have everything all set for tomorrow night. I'll let Samuel take over from here. Just make sure you get in the white Cadillac with Marian."

"What do you mean tomorrow night?"

Samuel said, "Friday night is a busy time on the street so you can be sure Marian will be at her corner. That gives us the rest of today and tomorrow to prepare. I don't want to waste more time than that on your little scheme."

"I don't understand. What kind of preparations do we need?"

Samuel said, "What, you think you can waltz out on the street in khaki short shorts and a tight tee shirt, and everyone will believe you are a prostitute? You need an outfit and some serious help with your makeup. One of my girls can help get you set up. Besides, I have to introduce you to my family. You may think Philadelphia is a big city, but everyone in the business knows everyone else. I can't just show up with a new girl without people being suspicious. You'll hang out at my place tonight with my girls. The word will get out on the street that I am breaking in a new recruit."

"Can I go back to my apartment and get a few things?"

"What the fuck. You think you're going to some ritzy place like the Warwick Hotel? No one is going to believe you are a new girl if you show up at my place with your luggage in tow. Do you think girls go into prostitution if they're rich?"

The time for talk was over, and Michael and Samuel stood up. I felt dizzy and confused when I tried to stand. I felt overwhelmed by our conversation, and all of the wine didn't help the feeling I had lost control. The two big men each took one of my arms and half carried me to the back of the bar.

Samuel said, "Michael, I've got it from here."

Michael said, "Samuel, take care of my intern, but make sure she hooks up with Marian. Do whatever it takes. We need to free David before prison destroys the boy."

"Don't worry Michael. I know how to treat my girls well."

Michael went out the back door of the bar. I started to follow him, but Samuel grabbed my arm.

"We have to do something about your outfit. No one will believe you are one of my girls with you dressed like a rich white bitch. Go into the women's room and pass your preppy tee shirt out to me. I'll fix the shirt while you ditch the bra. Only cows wear bras. You've got nice tits, but your bra just screams 'I'm a good girl.' Good girls don't work on the street."

I heard fabric ripping as I removed my bra. I covered my breasts when Samuel opened the door and handed me what was left of my tee shirt. Samuel chuckled at my display of modesty but closed the door, so I could get dressed. He had ripped off the sleeves and the bottom of the shirt. I pulled the tight top over my breasts and looked in the mirror. My nipples showed through the thin fabric. I was shocked to see that the bottoms of my ample breasts were exposed. No amount of tugging helped. I raised my arm and saw the side of my breast through the gaping armhole. Samuel yelled for me to hurry up. I took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom carrying my bra in my hand.

"Better, much better, now you look like some drunk white slut who had too much fun at a frat party. One more adjustment and I won't be ashamed to be seen with you on the street."

Samuel grabbed the top of my short shorts and rolled the waist over to display even more of my taut stomach.

Samuel snickered and ran his hand up my side. "Damn girl, don't you ever eat? I can see every one of your ribs."

I stared at Samuel in shock at the liberties he was taking. His comment about my weight was painful. I had trouble eating while I was in law school and had lost over fifteen pounds.

Samuel caressed my breast through the skanky tee shirt. "You've got nice tits, and your nipples are big for a white girl. Too bad, you've got no ass. Still, I think you could make pretty good money on the street. I'll bet you've got some big college loans. If you work for me, you could pay them off in a year or two."

I resented his callous appraisal of my ass. I had a well-toned ass from years of dance class. My boyfriend Steve thought my legs and ass were my best feature. I guess Samuel was used to more robust Afro-American butts.

I shook my head and felt dizzy from the wine. "Samuel, I'm only interested in finding out what Marian knows about the night of the murder. I certainly don't want anything to do with your business."

Samuel took the bra I was clutching in my hand and tossed it to the bored bartender who had been watching us all along. "Yo Mack, here's a little advertisement for you. I know you like your girls fresh. This bit of sweet meat will be out on the corner tomorrow night after I get her seasoned."

Samuel took my arm and led me out back to his car. Of course, he had a big black Cadillac. It was hot from sitting in the sun. Samuel opened the door for me and made sure I didn't fall on my face.

"One of my girls will help you get an outfit and learn the ropes. We'll go to my place and pick up Trixie. She's off today because she's on the rag."

I ignored his comment about being on the rag. I was surprised he hadn't banished Trixie to the red tent with the rest of the menstruating women.

"OK Jeanie, I hope you don't mind me calling you Jeanie. It fits with my brand. We need to work on your attitude. I can't be having you talking back to me like some uppity bitch. If you do that in front of my family, I'll punish you. I don't care what Michael says about protecting you. The only way this sting of yours is going to work is if everyone believes you are one of my girls. You will respect me or else. If my girls don't respect me, they'll find another pimp. If word gets out on the street that I put up with your shit, every pimp in town will be poaching my girls. Understood?"