Fury

Frank Kasidy's chamber was sieged with a swarm of cops and curious journalists who hovered around the ground floor of the towering Oriental hotel at about 9 A.M. The cops' presence had been invited by the hotel management after discovering his dead body in his chamber on the third floor where he had lodged two days more than he was due to check out of his suite. 

Frank had checked in along with a mystery lady at exactly 10:45 P.M. on Wednesday after a long day of executive conference with political associates, and he was due to check out the next morning. Shockingly, a call for room service had rung from his chamber on Thursday. And on Friday morning, another order for room service had been placed as early as 6:30, only for the waitress to meet no response from Frank's chamber but a sinisterly open door that afforded her the view of senator Frank's corpse in lying around in a pool of blood and his lady guest stripped stark naked, beaten to pulp, and tied to the bed frame.

Coincidentally--perhaps not so--it was the second case of murder of top dogs in the city within the space of a week, and in a similar pattern at that. The first murder had struck earlier in the week when Henry West-gate, a famous tycoon in the city was set up for a car accident in his Jeep. It had been discovered that the middle-aged business tycoon had been bound and gagged in his seat while his Jeep was set in motion without control. However, the similarity West-gate's murder bore with Frank's death was the red-coloured graffiti scribbled on the windscreen of his Jeep after it was discovered fatally dented in a valley within the woods. The same graffiti had been found boldly scribbled with a blood stain on the wall of Frank's chamber and it screamed in the shade of blood: 'I AM FURY.' 

Mysterious about Frank's death, however, was that he had been murdered on the night he checked into his chamber, yet calls for room services were coming forth the subsequent days until this day when the last call had revealed that the occupants of the chamber were victims of an unknown serial killer. This prompted questions about who made the calls for room services (if Frank was actually murdered on his first night) as much as suspicion also arose about this mystery lady Frank had brought into his hotel chamber. She was obviously a one-night stand, though; yet, she would prove useful for questioning.

The Oriental hotel was instantly cordoned off as a crime scene even as the environs buzzed with curious correspondents and media attention who eagerly awaited a scoop, and on ground was a noisy ambulance and a busy medical team who performed an autopsy on the spot on the dead senator's body and also made efforts to salvage Frank's lady guest whose life now hung in the balance--but could still survive with proper medical attention.

''I want her alive. Please.'' Detective Donovan had pled with the medical personnel to salvage the life of the young lady who was reported to have registered her name as Natasha at the reception desk. 

Without ado, Donovan had been assigned by Inspector Miriam, the city's divisional head, to prevail over the death toll that was fast building up with a pattern and momentum. Donovan Daniels knew his onions and he was no newbie to murder cases. He was well travelled and versed in his job, even earning himself a reputable contemporary investigator of 'A' class. He had unraveled different criminal mysteries and, of course, this new serial killing taking shape in town shouldn't be a tougher nut to crack. His fantastic record in murder cases had made him cut out for the task at hand, however.

In this moment, Frank's body, which had been stabbed repeatedly on the jugular veins by his murderer, was instantly deposited in a cadaver pouch and stretchered out to the ambulance off the back of a comprehensive autopsy which confirmed him dead from psychological torture and a series of close-range stabs on his neck. Natasha’s nudity, however, was cladded as her ravaged body was laid on a stretcher. The poor lady had her eyes feebly open but was apparently devoid of energy to utter a word or stir at will. She was stretchered out of the hotel premises to the sight of the wild, ravenous press who stubbornly pressed on for photographs and pestering questions but received none from the surviving victim. 

‘’Seal the building and arrest everyone for questioning,’’ Inspector Miriam ordered the cops as she decided to make a legal case and launch an investigation into the management of Oriental hotel.

‘’But ma’am, our management had no hand in this,’’ the hotel manager protested defiantly. ‘’Senator Kasidy was a regular here and a good friend of our patron. He had brought in different ladies on different occasions. Our security has no report of a breach since Wednesday night.’’

‘’And what do you insinuate, Carlos?’’ Miriam asked squinting.

‘’Ma’am, you probably have the culprit in your custody already. Natasha.’’

‘’I’m not convinced, Carlos. How about we subject your assumption to proper findings?’’ Miriam ventured. ‘’Pending the investigations, your hotel shall be under lock and key.’’

‘’But ma’am….,’’ Carlos pressed on. ‘’Prince Salim will not sit back and watch you do this to his property.’’

‘’Have you lost your mind?’’ Miriam snapped, stopping dead in her tracks to face Carlos squarely. ‘’Listen, young man! This is murder case of interest to the state, and your property is involved in this mess. You think I give a damn about your dubious owner?’’

Miriam’s stinging words were enough to silence Carlos and kill whatever courage remained in him. She had put him in his place by stamping her authority as the prevailing inspector of the city. 

‘’And don’t ever think you can threaten me. Ever!’’ She continued, turning away sharply from Carlos who was now lost for words. ‘’Serge! Arrest everyone for questioning.’’

As Miriam stormed out of the edifice with emphatic strides, Donovan scurried along, making to catch up with Miriam who was almost before the press awaiting her feedback on the latest death toll in town. 

‘’Inspector Miriam,’’ Donovan called anxiously, ‘’I think I found something that might interest you.’’

Curious, Miriam came to a halt by Donovan’s announcement of his own discovery. 

‘’Yes, Donny, spill it.’’

‘’I found this note pinned to the door of Senator Kasidy’s chamber,’’ Donovan said unfolding a short note within Miriam’s eyeshot. ‘’Look at this, ma’am. I think it’s the killer’s next target: Prince Abdullahi Salim.”

Miriam snatched the paper from Donovan and widened her eyes to read the red handwriting which read: Next Game: Prince of Dubai; Saturday 4th of April. In a reflex, Miriam shot a stern look at one of the cops and ordered him to get Carlos and his management team under their custody for interrogations about the gaffer's whereabouts. 

Prince Abdullahi Salim was a merchant prince of controversial repute in the Vegas city, spreading his clout across the biggest business and political cartels in the state. Many claimed him a drug lord and smuggler of different contraband arms and ammunition. However, such narrative was yet proven true as the affluent Prince had managed to bypass all legal confrontations and beaten the system to remain absolved of culpabilities. His grip on the political trajectories of the state was also of significant note given his stature amongst the country's elites. Perhaps, it was this reason he sat pretty comfortable on the boards of numerous business establishments across the state. One of such establishments, however, was the Oriental Hotel which was now at the centre of assassination of a statesman. More shocking, however, was Donovan's latest discovery that the controversial merchant prince was the next target of a death toll ravaging the city.

Reacting to Donovan's discovery, Miriam maintained a cold gaze with the detective in order to have stern words with him.

''You know what to do, Donny,'' she said, her words reflecting some steel. ''We must bring the culprit to book before he brings the city down.''

Donovan stood to attention while he lapped up every word from the high-ranking inspector of Vegas city. He could feel the passion and sombre concern behind her bold words.

''You've been hired for this, Donny and I trust you to deliver an impressive job it,'' she continued, expressing her confidence and assuring Donovan of support. ''Find out whoever this bastard is. You have the backing of the police force.''

Donovan was pumped up by Miriam’s words than before. Although the reputable detective had never been caught slumbering on his job; however, this time, he felt a keener sense of responsibility. He was fired up than ever and would be willing to go to lengths to get on the tail of the murderer.

‘’Ma’am, We have no clues who the culprit is or what he looks like,’’ Donovan remarked, suddenly building up an idea, ‘’but we would sure need to have Natasha on this case. We have to keep her alive by all means. The poor lady should come in handy.’’

‘’That’s quite smart,’’ Miriam replied, nodding thoughtfully in agreement. ‘’The poor thing has been sent down to the Central Ward for emergency medical surveillance. She would be fine. I think we can take it up from there.’’

''We must keep Salim under strict surveillance,'' Donovan chipped in sounding a note of warning. ''The animal behind all these doesn't seem to be stopping soonest.''

''Salim's whereabouts will be dealt with, and he shall be brought under the police's custody in no time, detective,'' replied Miriam calmly as she drew a wide smile across her lips.

Adressing the nagging members of the press and bringing them up to speed with the outcome of the cops' investigations into the death of a statesman, the duo scurried away from the crime scene along with the cops and they set bound for the central Ward uptown where the victims had been taken, leaving the Oriental edifice under lock and key and carting the management team of the hotel away on the ground of an invite for interrogations. Left to Donovan, a sketch of the culprit was all he needed and craved most at the moment. A description of how the culprit looked would solve a large percentage of the dilemma. Like many others, he had no faintest idea who was behind the serial killing--facts and figures--but he yearned hungrily in this moment to have a detailed description of the killer in question from the sole surviving witness: Natasha. He was willing to meet Natasha and he could only hope hard that the lady was up for it. And, of course, he was willing to give his abstract ideas of the task at hand a definite shape before he could press on, as it seemed as though he was in a duel with a shapeless mass of air.

For Mariam, getting the merchant prince under a close surveillance of the cops was a priority, and she would be hoping to use the help of Carlos to have his gaffer to cooperate with them in order to have the death toll in the city curtailed. Salim might be a controversial figure and sordid business mogul on the black book of his critics, yet Miriam didn't deem it wise to leave the badly reputed mogul to the ravaging wolf in a serial killer. With time, she thought, Salim would be brought to book for his illegal dealings.