Yin-Yang 02: The Return of Jack Daniels

THE RETURN OF JACK DANIELS

Author's note: This is a sequel to Yin-Yang, a short, weird tale. You probably would enjoy this one better if you read it first. I had a hard time and many drafts before I came up with this. Hope you enjoy.

The end of Yin-Yang: Jack was vacationing after he had killed a mother and son who had used Jack to steal the inheritance from the husband/father they had killed.

JACK

He kept a watch on Room 104 for several hours. The tropical breeze and the Reggae music from the bar made waiting pleasant. Jack had patience. Finally, around supper time, the man of the couple came out by himself. Jack bought a bottle of champagne and put on a waiter's outfit from the hotel laundry and got a cart with an ice bucket from the kitchen. He hoped being somewhat older than most waiters would not blow his cover. It took several knocks before he heard a female voice ask who it was. Jack told her he had a gift for this room from the management. She peered out the peephole and decided to open the door. Despite trying to hide her face with her long hair, it was easy to tell she had been beaten, badly. Jack's suspicions were confirmed. He handed her the champagne and waited as asked. She retrieved and then handed him a five-dollar bill tip.

Jack changed into one of his beach outfits and joined the man at the bar who had 'punished' the woman from 104. Jack smiled and offered to buy him a drink. He seemed to assume Jack was hitting on him. Evidently, he not only thought he was God's gift to women, but men also. Jack assured him he was straight, professing to see in him a brother in the 'that bitch cheated on me' club. Under that premise, the man accepted the drink and they talked. Jack told his story of catching his wife and his son making love to each other. The man was revolted and celebrated Jack's reported retribution of just leaving them both and taking all the money. Of course, he said he would have beaten the shit out of both of them first.

Jack listened in agreement to his tale of woe of how his girlfriend was constantly flirting with other men. He felt it was only a matter of time before she actually had sex with another man. Death, according to him, was an appropriate punishment for any woman who cheated on him. Jack drank to that while doing his best to keep macho man drinking. When the man wasn't looking, Jack poured most of his own drinks onto the sand. After an hour or so, Jack commented on how expensive the drinks were at the bar. Jack suggested that they adjourn to his room where he had a fifth of Jack Daniels. The man looked at Jack again like he was questioning his motives. Jack laughed and said that he was bigger and stronger. "I would be crazy to try to make a move on you." He agreed. He was dead wrong.

After Jack changed out of and disposed of his bloody clothes, he went back to Room 104 to the girl who had seen his face. The girl was a victim, but a stupid victim to keep putting up with an abusive boyfriend. In Jack's mind, such stupidity should not be allowed to breed. There was no answer at her door. The desk clerk told Jack she had left for the airport about an hour ago. Smart move. Saved her life.

Again, using the passport of Robert Samuels, Jack left on the next available plane, well before the blood and the pieces of the body were found. The local police were not familiar with the Yin-Yang serial killer. Jack found out later that in order to avoid bad publicity, the local hotel management was able to bribe the police to keep the murder quiet, refurbish the room and keep the spotlight off the resort. It was okay by Jack because Robert Samuels had once again disappeared, and Jack Daniels was back.

Killing bad people had always been a hobby to Jack outside of holding down a regular job as an accountant. Now, with plenty of money, Jack could make vigilantism more of a full-time career. Since killing Robert Samuels' wife and son resulted in his having money, Jack really didn't need to make more money killing people. Been there, done that. He was free to be a volunteer trash remover full-time. Having money allowed the serial killer to be more mobile and to be more selective in picking the targets he wanted. Mr. Daniels decided to go for picking higher fruit.

*****

BRANDY

Although she was 23 years old, Brandy dressed in a Catholic school girl uniform with several buttons undone, twirled her blonde curls, and had a sucker in her bright red mouth. She had waited until she no longer was competing with the actual teenage whores and older prostitutes on the nearby blocks. Being careful was critical to her survival. She had no pimp which meant she was more vulnerable to physical abuse by pimps and Johns. All she had for protection was a pistol, a knife and her wits. The latter was the most deadly of the three.

Before long a man came by in a late model car. He rolled his passenger window down. Putting down the lollipop she had been pretending to have oral sex with, Brandy called out, "Looking for some fun, mister?" She said that in a high childish voice while leaning over to show her considerable cleavage.

"It depends. How much?"

"Gee Daddy, what kind of fun do you want to have?"

"Oral, anal, and regular if you can keep me erect."

"That much fun would cost $250."

"Hop in."

Brandy got in the car. She noticed the man was fatter than she thought. That would make it a little more difficult. "Where are having fun? The car or a motel room?"

"I am willing to pay for a room, but that means you have to stay longer for no extra charge."

"Okay, Daddy. Whatever you want." While he drove, she slid over, unzipped his pants, pulled down his underwear and started searching for his penis. It was finally located just below his third roll of fat.

"You like little girls, huh?"

"Oh, yes."

"Well, I promise you that you're going to get more than you ever thought possible tonight."

"That sounds great." She kept rubbing on his stub and commenting on how big he was until he said to stop because he was about to have a gusher.

Once in the room, she told him that she wanted him to sit nude in the chair. She wanted to strip for him, real slow and sexy. He obeyed in less than two minutes. Brandy started to dance going around and around him, singing 'Ring Around the Rosie' while taking off pieces of clothing as she went. She was telling him what she was going to do to each part of his body when she was finished undressing. When he put his hand on his penis, she slapped his hand. "That's for me to do, Daddy." He drooled and begged her to hurry up.

Around and around him she went. Just as she was removing her last item of clothing, her panties, she stopped behind him. Her hands ran through his greasy hair and then down his chest, pausing to pinch his nipples, hard. He was starting to sweat in anticipation for what was to come. Brandy paused to say, "You know you have to wear a rubber, don't you?"

"Do we have to? I didn't bring any."

"Don't worry. Sit still. I have my own. Now get your pecker ready for me to slide it down your big pole." He did his best to put his dick upright so she could put the condom on. Brandy got in her purse and brought it out where he couldn't see it. Instead of it being a condom, it was a switch blade knife, a very sharp switch blade knife. Still behind him, she used her left hand to lift up as many of his chins as she could and asked if he was ready. He briefly wondered how lifting his chin would help her put his condom on, but he enthusiastically said yes.

"Okay lover, here it comes." With one deliberate and forceful swipe of the blade, she cut his throat. He had heard the CLICK of the blade being deployed, but it was too late. Blood spurted everywhere. He got up and tried to hold his throat together. The cut was too wide for the blood to slow down, much less stop. He looked and her like he was wanting to say, "Why?"

"That's for my little sister, asshole." The large man's body collapsed on the floor and became still in a few moments. As before, Brandy took his watch, his rings and his wallet including his cash and credit cards. She felt sorry for whoever was going to have to pick up the fat blob as well as who would have to clean up the blood. She didn't feel sorry for the man. She wished he could have suffered longer, but it was too risky.

This was Brandy's third killing of a John looking for young girls. Her little sister had gotten hooked on drugs at age 16 and was forced to sell her body for money. One night her sister was picked up by a John who was overly rough on her. She tried to escape, but the man was too strong. He beat her up so badly, she died after several days in a coma from which she never regained consciousness. Her killer was never found. Soon, no one was even looking for her killer, except one person -- Brandy. She didn't know the identity of the man who had beat up her sister, but with each pedophile she killed, there was one less possibility.

Once Brandy made sure she left no evidence at the crime scene, she dropped a letter in the mail to the Sun Chronicle. She described where the body could be found, and that the victim was a pedophile. Brandy had been disappointed that her killings had not generated much press. It had been a record night for killings in the city. She wondered if she needed something more dramatic and get the publicity like the Yin-Yang Killer did. Maybe next time.

*****

JACK

Over six months after his tropical murder, Jack was putting the finishing touches on the Yin-Yang symbol on the wall of Senator Douglas' mistress' apartment. He had already planted the evidence that would show the connection between the two. "Too bad I missed his arrival." Jack stood back and admired his handiwork with an almost empty bottle of Jack on the nightstand and a machete in his hand. A machete had become his favorite weapon of choice.

Suddenly, Jack heard the distinctive click of the hammer of a revolver being pulled back. He had been caught. Jack turned slowly around to see Mrs. Douglas was the one pointing a gun at him. She said, "Well, how weird this has turned out to be. I came to confront my husband's mistress and find out she has just been killed. And I won't be prosecuted for her death because the Yin-Yang Killer has done the killing."

"Since I've done you a favor by killing your husband's mistress, why not do me a favor and let me go?"

"Done me a favor? You asshole. My husband has had a mistress most of our married life. I like being married to a famous man. I learned to compensate by having my own boy toys along the way. I came here tonight to encourage her to be less flagrant in her public displays of affection with my husband. She was about to become a National Enquirer story. I didn't want her dead unless she refused to be less obvious. Now you've screwed my life all up. I doubt we'll be able to cover up their relationship now."

"Senator!"

Jack's looking to the doorway and shouting 'SENATOR' was enough to make Mrs. Douglas move her eyes off him for a second. That's all he needed. Just because it was the oldest trick in the book doesn't mean it still doesn't work. His machete flew across the room literally 'disarming' Mrs. Douglas. Of course, she started freaking out loudly, so Jack had to end her misery quickly. A little more mutilation and he was ready to leave. "How had she been able to get in without me knowing? I had locked the door. She must have gotten the key off her husband's key ring. Oh well, I have always been lucky when I needed it."

*****

DETECTIVE RAWLINGS

Detective John Rawlings looked in disgust at the bodies just below the bloody Yin-Yang symbol on the wall. He was glad that he would not have to work this case because the murder of a Senator's wife and his mistress was being taken over by the FBI. Until they arrived, he was responsible for securing the crime scene. Of course, he could look while he secured the scene. Because of all the reporters, it was difficult to protect the crime scene until more police arrived. Since the reporters had arrived so soon, the murderer had probably notified the press. Rawlings' guess what that the killer wanted to make sure that the true character of the Senator would be well known. Their deaths would receive few tears from the public. Most of the attention would be on the adulterous, but still alive, Senator.

Jack would have rather killed the Senator too, but it might have been best not to. Killing a senator might have generated too much heat. It was just as well that the Senator's life would be ruined. So, he would at least suffer. There was always later if Jack really wanted to have closure.

Rawlings looked around the crime scene and saw a strange sight. It was an empty fifth of Jack Daniels, Legacy Edition. He had a flashback. There had been one at the Samuels' family murder scene. It too had no fingerprints on it. One of the Senator's staff was in the room, crying. Rawlings asked, "Excuse me, can you tell me if Jack Daniels was the favorite drink of the Senator."

"Heavens no. Jack Daniels is made in Tennessee. The Senator only drank Kentucky bourbon. State pride and all that."

Months of detective work followed. After a couple of years of absence, the Ying-Yang Killer had returned, again. The first of the Phase II Yin-Yang murders, the Samuels mother and son, was in his jurisdiction but he hadn't been assigned the case. The detective in charge had retired so Rawlings got his predecessor's active case files. The evidence from the Samuels' case was where he first concentrated his efforts.

In the process of his investigation, Detective Rawlings interviewed the attorney who handled the Robert Samuels inheritance. He gave a description of the man who he was told was Robert Samuels. The methods of verifying his identity was related. Rawlings knew the killer wasn't Robert Samuels because Samuels' body had recently been found and his death had occurred well before the inheritance episode. Apparently however, there was a strong resemblance between Samuels and his killer imposter.

As the Detective poured over the evidence from the double Samuels murder, he found advertising material for a resort in Jamaica piqued his interest. The purchase material, however, showed two tickets had been purchased but there were no tickets. He wondered if the mother and son were both planning the tropical getaway. Had the killer decided to go? Rawlings went to the airline desk with a subpoena and had them check Jamaica flight lists for the days after the murders for the name Samuels. "Yes, a Robert Samuels returned the tickets his wife and son bought and bought one for himself. He flew out on the 25th and then had to pay a little extra when he decided to return a couple of days early. It doesn't look like his wife and son were able to join him."

Rawlings made some inquiries over the phone to the police in the town in Jamaica where Samuels had gone to. They checked the resort Rawlings asked them to check and found that a Robert Samuels had indeed booked a room there. Then they volunteered that was the hotel that reported a murder of a young man in that same room on the same day Samuels had left. The police said Robert Samuels had been reported to police in the hometown listed on his passport, but no one had been able to find him. As far as they were concerned, there were no other suspects and it was not an open case unless American police called about Mr. Samuels' whereabouts. The local police said they assumed the murderer had used a false name and was long gone. They didn't want to tell the detective anything about the crime scene. American police attention and possible publicity was the last thing they wanted. They had no interest in helping him track the killer down. Rawlings knew it was a cover-your-ass situation.

Detective Rawlings had no trouble talking his wife into taking a short vacation to a tropical setting. Once they got there, she went sailing and snorkeling while her husband went fishing, or so he said. Instead, he went hunting members of the staff of the hotel where the murder had occurred. It took a few hundred in bribes before he had the information he sought: the Yin-Yang symbol on the wall in blood. And, equally important, a bottle of Jack Daniels, Legacy Edition. None of the Yin-Yang murders in the first phase had the Jack Daniels bottle, but the latest two had one. Odd change in MO.

Rawlings remembered several receipts in the evidence box from the Samuels' murder. There it was. A receipt for one item from a liquor store. It included a bottle of Jack Daniels, Legacy Edition. Taking a picture of Robert Samuels, the Detective showed the liquor store clerk. He recognized the face. The man who looked like Robert Samuels always bought one of the longest aged, more expensive Jack Daniels, the Legacy Edition. He remembered because his was the only liquor store he knew of that sold that vintage within a square mile. Most of the locals did not usually buy much bourbon, especially one that expensive. Then the break Rawlings was looking for broke. "If you want to talk to him, he still comes in every few days."

It was hard for him to believe he could be so lucky. Detective Rawlings began to patrol the neighborhood in hopes of seeing the man. After several weeks, the liquor store clerk spotted the man once he knew as Jack was at the liquor store. As soon as Jack left, the clerk saw he had gone to a café nearby. Detective Rawlings was called.

*****

BRANDY

Brandy had read about the latest Yin-Yang murders. She wondered if the killer had a special reason for killing like she did. Then it struck her, "I need a name like 'the Yin-Yang Killer.' She decided on becoming the 'Dear John Killer.'

As usual, she had waited a couple of months and had surveyed a different neighborhood that had prostitutes working the streets. She observed the interaction between the pimps and the whores. These whores were more aggressive than the ones at the previous location. Whores without pimps were beaten up and/or made to prostitute for the pimp. Two pimps often fought over the prime territory. She decided to work a block away from any known pimp's territory. The girls working a particular block let her know who their pimp was and his designated territory.

This night she was in pig tails and short skirt. Her lips were bright red and her hair was coal black. It was late when the older, luxury car pulled down her street. It was moving slowly. "Hey little girl, can I give you a ride?"

"I would be glad to ride you, Daddy, if you're really good to me."

"I'll be good, real good. $100 good."

"$200 good is better."

"Deal. But you better be worth the money."

The man drove to a nearby alley and started attacking Brandy. Although she was moaning as if she were enjoying the pawing, she was imagining her smaller sister trying to resist her attacker. As Brandy's anger rose, she struck. The knife blade went under his chin and up. It wasn't as messy as with the fat man and not as quick. Brandy didn't try to get away as the man struggled to stop her. She was enjoying watching him struggle even though it mean she was getting bloodier. It was time to put him out of his misery, so her blade went into his chest just below the sternum.

Brandy looked around. Seeing no one, she took wallet and rings as usual. He had no watch. Disarming the car's interior lights, she opened the door and slipped out into the night. Alleys were used as much as possible to get to her car without notice. In her car she had clean-up supplies and a change of clothes. Bloody clothes went into a plastic bag with the supplies. Driving to another part of town, she disposed of the plastic bag. Again, she sent a message to the Sun Chronicle saying she was the 'Dear John Killer' in hopes of better coverage this time.