Bloody Seven of Spades 1: Life and Death

“My court date is next month,” said Erica Price, a bleach-blonde woman with long, painted nails that could gouging out an eyeball.She stood at the door of her apartment, looking at Dominic with disgust.

Dominic was dumbfounded, this was the first time he encountered such a situation. "Ms. Price, your court date passed two days ago."

"Uh, no way!" she said, blowing a gum bubble. "No.14 in May."

"It's April NO.14." Dominique said, almost unbelievable that this kind of thing actually happened.He took out the document from his coat pocket and handed it to the other party.

She squinted at the bail agreement and bond, and pressed it back to Dominic in disgust. "Hey. Well, can't you delay for another day? I'm busy right now."

"Do you know that while we're talking, you're breaking the law?"

"Okay." She rolled her eyes at him. "Wait until I lock the door. I wonder if you still want to handcuff me, don't you, pervert?"

"I don't think it's necessary," Dominique said.

He waited for her to grab her bag and lock the apartment door, then led her into his pickup truck.All the way to the county detention center, she was frantically pressing her phone.

Since Goodwin's body was discovered a week ago, Dominic hadn't been dispatched to do bail missions, and he began to suspect that his subconscious was not only stopped for this reason.So he decided to take it easy and find a simple task to adapt to, so he picked a drug-related person with no violent criminal record and low reward as his target.It wasn't a lot of money, but considering that he found the other party in less than an hour, the cost performance of the time investment was not bad.

He turned Erica over to the county jail staff and watched as they took her to custody, her gut-wrenching whimpers fading away.While waiting for the detention center to notify the bail company, he checked his mailbox on his mobile phone.Trash, trash, a Youtube link retweeted by sister Gina, and then trash again, a notice reminding him to pay his electric bill — and a message from Google about Seven of Spades.

Well, yes, he really didn't put the case aside entirely.But there's no law preventing him from keeping an eye on it from a remote channel, is there?Besides him, there are many ordinary citizens who can do this kind of thing.

He clicked on the link to read the news, which reported a murder that happened last night, which was said to be the masterpiece of this new serial killer who was hot in Las Vegas.He read and read, frowning.

Violent stabbing?If it wasn't for a big mistake in one link, how could it be the real "Seven of Spades".A spokesman for the Vegas Police Department declined to comment.

But that's not up to him anymore.Dominic put his phone back in his pocket, determined to go straight home and find some challenging bounties to do.

Three and ten minutes later, he found himself on his way to Levi's precinct.

***

"Mr. Barton, can you tell me the underlying factor behind 'Seven of Spades' targeting your wife?" Levy asked.

Although Barton was not handcuffed, they were in an interrogation room-they had already confirmed that he had killed his wife, but they could not arrest him without physical evidence.Not yet.

"Isn't 'Seven of Spades' a vigilante?" Barton shrugged.He was short but stocky, with a thick neck and small contemptuous eyes. "He kills bad guys. Patty's a bitch."

"Can you say that again?" Oh my god, Levi wanted to punch Barton's bastard in the face.

"She's a sweetheart. Everyone knows that. I'm not surprised she's being targeted."

"'Seven of Spades' targets people who are getting away with it," Levy said. "It's not illegal to cheat."

Barton folded his arms across his chest. "Who are you, some kind of expert? You really think you know why he did those things? You're just guessing."

"Perhaps. But I did the first three murder scenes committed by the Seven of Spades, and your wife's murder scene bears no resemblance to it except for one detail. You see, there's a lot more that isn't true. Details released by the media—details that the imitation murderer would have no way of knowing."

Barton gritted his teeth, looked away and then looked at Levi again.Levi smiled. The Seven of Spades was a maddening prey, but the pathetic bastard was no different from any other murderer he had dealt with before.

"You know I didn't kill her," Barton said, "I had an alibi—I was at a company event all night. A dozen people saw me there. When I got home and found Patty , she's been dead for hours."

He was right.His alibi was solid—not airtight, but hard to refute.Furthermore, Patty's fingertips and nail crevices were washed with bleach to remove trace evidence of the attacker, and the murder weapon has not yet been found.The evidence they have that points to Barton is just speculation, no wonder this guy is full of confidence.

Levy intends to shake this confidence.

"Why don't I tell you my take on the truth of the matter?" He leaned forward, arms resting on the metal tabletop, hands loosely folded. "I think you quietly left the event behind other people's backs, ran home and had a showdown with your wife about her cheating. You were so angry that you impulsively stabbed her to death. Then you panicked and remembered the recent A piece of news, so you put a poker card on her body to divert suspicion, and then you packed up the scene and returned to the event. You pretended that everything was normal, and when you got home, you pretended to find the body suddenly and called the police.”

Barton puffed his nostrils, but did not speak.

"Your performance is not too bad, but there are a few problems," Levy continued, "First of all, anyone who has seen the real 'Seven of Spades' murder scene will not believe that this case was done by him. Second, the vast majority of killers don't do a good job of disposing of the weapon—or, rather, the bloody clothing that resulted from the murder. We've sent the police to find these items. I can bet that the security surveillance video of the event venue It will show that you have been missing for an unexplained period of time, and that you entered that night wearing a different outfit than you left."

This sentence hit the nail on the head.Barton's body trembled slightly.

"But seriously, I bet the hard evidence is in your phone logs. You can delete text messages and call logs, but your carrier still has them. If your wife called you while you were at an event Or sent a text message, and you were stimulated to leave the venue temporarily... In this case, it will be very bad for you, isn't it?"

Barton's face was pale. "You can't find any evidence that I didn't kill her."

Levi stood up, hands resting on the tabletop, the legs of the chair scraping the plastic floor.This is not a mysterious high-intelligence serial killer who left a strange message and invited the police to make a devil's deal with him; this is a vicious and angry man who killed his wife and thought he could get away with it.Nothing could be more pleasant to Levi than to educate such a man against such thoughts.

"If you confess now, things will be easier for you. If not, I guess in 24 hours, you'll have to come back here in handcuffs - 48 hours at most." Levi bent further . "Because I know you killed your wife, Mr. Barton, and I will prove it. I promise you."

"I didn't kill her," Barton said again, more confidently.But he still refused to budge, and glared at Levi with a look of hatred.

"After I find out, there will be no jurors in Las Vegas who will believe that you didn't kill him." Levi left the table and strode towards the door.As he went out, he turned his head and said, "You may need to start sorting out your affairs."

***

"Hey, Dominique," Martin said, turning around in his chair, "are you coming to see Levi?"

"What?" It wasn't this sentence that caught him off guard, but the strong sense of ridicule in it. "No, I didn't come—to see him. I mean, I came here, sure I could see him, but not—"

The other party smiled brighter and more cunningly.She must have known about the kiss, and since she hadn't drawn a gun on him, she knew he'd stopped in time and nothing had gotten out of hand.

He sighed in surrender. "I saw the report of the murder last night. It may be a copycat crime of 'Seven of Spades'. I'm a little curious. It's entirely possible that I came to you."

"You might be," she said, "but you're not."

Denial is useless.Dominic doesn't even know why he's here, because he knows that seeing Levi again will be embarrassing, but he just can't stay out of it.Maybe he just wanted to make sure Levi was over that heavy hangover.

Yes, that's right.That's what he decided.

It doesn't matter right now, because Levi's desk is empty. "So, is it a copycat crime?" he asked.

"Okay," Martin said firmly, "even a rookie can tell that the victim's husband did it. We don't have enough evidence to arrest him, and Levi is interrogating him—yo, it seems that I said early gone."

Dominic turns to see Levi walking towards them.Levi's eyes bulged when he saw him, but that was all, and he steadied his reaction well.

"Dominique," he said, coming to stand behind his desk.

"Levy."

"He's curious about imitating the crime," Martin interjected.

"I thought you'd never get involved in this case again," Levy said.

"I'm out of it. But that doesn't mean I can't see what's going on, right?"

Levy seemed to be persuaded by his sophistry. "Barton refused to confess, but I stimulated him. With luck, he will do something stupid, such as running directly to find the hidden murder weapon."

"Very well," Martin said, "another wife-killing scum finds a home in prison."

Dominic scanned Levi's table while listening, not missing every detail, and his attention was suddenly attracted by an unusual object.Coffee is a must on Levi's table, but it's neither his usual portable cup nor the frothy cup from the coffee shop on the block.The glass he drank from this morning bore the logo of a hotel in the Old Town, not near where he lived or on his route to work.

"Have you stayed in a hotel?" Dominic asked without thinking too much.

Seeing that Levi was surprised by these words, he felt complacent for a few seconds; Levi looked down at his desk and realized how Dominic guessed it.

"Damn," Martin praised, "you're amazing."

Levi's face was a little red, and he avoided Dominic's sight. "I broke up with Stanton."

Dominic took a step back. "Why?" he asked, feeling uncomfortable.Please God, not because of him.If Levi left his boyfriend of three years because of a kiss and a little mutual affection—

"It's not at all..." Levi hesitated to speak, and glanced at the busy office. "It's not about recent events. It's been going on for a long time."

The two looked at Martin, who was typing hard. "This is my workstation, you know. If you two have something private to say, please find a suitable place to talk."

"We didn't—" Levi's words were interrupted by the ringing of the landline on the desk.He picked up the phone. "I'm Detective Abrams."

After a while, his expression froze, his life was as devoid of anger as a mask.He put down the receiver and pressed the hands-free button on the landline.

"Please say it again, will you?"

"I didn't kill Patty Barton," said a hoarse electronic voice.

The large office, which was originally crowded with ants, suddenly quieted down as if it had been kicked, and entered a state of ready to go.Dominique watched in surprise as several people rushed out of the room, while Martin jumped up from his chair and hurriedly whispered instructions to the nearby people.

Levi stood where he was, trembling faintly from tension. "Why should I trust you?"

"I promised. Five days. One more day."

"Damn it." Dominic said in a low voice.This is the call from Seven of Spades.Levi is on the phone with a serial killer.

"You're a man of your word, and it's important for you to let others see that, right?" Levi pressed one hand on the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.

"of course."

"You must be pissed that someone is taking your name after a crime right now. Are you planning to kill Drew Barton?"

The opponent's pause is quite intriguing. "Unless you arrest him first."

Levi blinked and closed it again.When he opened it, he looked at Martin in the distance.Martin pointed to a computer and shook his head, throwing his hands skyward.Dominique didn't know if they meant the tracking phone failed, or that the tracked results were useless.

"I know you think you're special," Levy said, every word popping through the jaws. "You think you're special—that what you do is great. But the truth is, you Just love to kill. You get the thrill of killing, so you delude yourself into thinking you're on some kind of noble mission. But at the end of the day, you're just a murderer, and the only difference between you and Drew Barton is, It's that you're a fucking lunatic."

He slammed the handset back on the landline and terminated the call.Everyone in the room stared at him dumbfounded.

"You just slapped a serial killer," Dominique said, as if Levi didn't know what he'd just done.

"Do you think I care?" Levy huffed. "I'm fucking done with the tricks. If 'Seven of Spades' tries to come at me, I'd like to see if the guy has the guts."

He took out the phone and keys from the top drawer, and slammed it shut, shaking the table.

"I'm going to do a case and do nothing but bring Barton to justice," he said to Martin. "Are you coming?"

She grinned, and as soon as she took the bag, she quickly followed him, patting Dominic on the back on the way.

Dominic's pace of leaving the police station was not as hasty as they were. What he saw and heard just now shocked him.Hearing the sound of "Seven of Spades" with his own ears, even though it was a processed electronic sound, still chilled him to the bone.He was worried that Levi's provocation would bring Levi more danger.

Dominique was fascinated by the thought, and when he came back to his senses, he suddenly realized that he was not walking in the direction of the parking lot, but wandering all the way to the north of the long street.He stopped and looked at the pyramid-shaped building of the Luxor Hotel that reached into the sky.

It must be nice to be able to walk in and sit at a blackjack table, even if it's just playing the slot machines—and let the amine polyphenols wash over your body and wash everything out of your mind.Only in this way can the pressure be released.This time he won't let himself get out of control, he's learned his lesson, just play for a few hours, he can hold on.

Dominic clenched his palms tightly, unable to move his eyes away.

***

The anger ignited by the call from Seven of Spades took hours to subside.Levy didn't suppress it, he turned his anger into motivation, and devoted himself to the investigation of the Barton case with all his strength, and he was simply invincible.

By the end of the day's work, he had already recorded more than a dozen testimonials from the relatives, friends and neighbors of the parties involved, confirming that Drew Barton and his wife Patty were notoriously at odds, and sometimes used force when they clashed.Several of Barton's colleagues said they didn't see Barton for about an hour during last night's event.Wesson Telecom provided several abusive text messages that the couple sent to each other during this period.Surveillance video from the stadium showed that Barton later wore the same jacket and shirt of the same color, but the collar of the shirt was changed and the pants were lighter in tone.

When the police were combing the surroundings of Barton's residence, they found a hastily wiped kitchen knife in a trash can ten houses away from his residence, which became the real conclusive evidence.People from the Criminal Laboratory Department are testing the kitchen knife, but the arrest warrant for Barton has been issued, and Levi personally issued a nationwide notice before leaving get off work.He asked the police officers to closely monitor Barton around the clock, just waiting for the bastard to be arrested and brought to justice.Let's see if he's ready to make a confession after he's chilled out overnight in the detention facility.

Levi was exhausted by the time he returned to the hotel, but relieved by the day's work.He admits that the "Seven of Spades" case has shaken his confidence in his ability to handle cases as a detective, but closing a murder case in less than 24 hours has undoubtedly played a big role in regaining his confidence.

He put the gun in the drawer, took off his coat, turned out the clean clothes and arranged them.Just as he stepped into the bathroom, his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen and saw that it was Martin calling—Barton's case was settled, and she must have wanted to talk to him about the call from Seven of Spades.Let's wait until he takes a leisurely hot bath.

Levi went into the bathroom, closed the door, and the call went to voicemail.

***

"Hi everyone, my name is Dominic and I am a compulsive gambler."

"Hello, Dominique," said the twenty-odd people present, sitting in a circle on folding chairs.

He also sat in the chair and didn't get up. This group has always been more casual. "I don't come here often," he said with a shameful smile at team leader Garth, "but the last week has been a lot of pressure. I didn't want to come, but this morning I walked up and down the strip for an hour , staring at those casinos, full of fantasies about going in."

Everyone nodded and whispered to each other to express their sympathy.

"I've been sucked into gambling time and time again—from middle school to the present. It wasn't too bad until I graduated high school. I went to community college and couldn't get in. I was constantly looking for entertainment and excitement, and gambling fed my appetite. Needs. I was underage at the time, but my ambition is not high enough.”

A few people laughed.Dominic giggled too.

"I soon discovered that my gambling style was different from others," he said. "Once I started, no matter how much money I lost, I couldn't stop it. I had to be forced to stop. I thought about it all day long. Gambling, thinking about how to cheat, reminiscing about the thrill of winning, and imagining how not to lose. My life is completely occupied because I am so focused on it. I am also very scared of my situation, but I didn't seek help, I dropped out of school and went to join the military."

His family was very disapproving of this, but not very surprised.Although at the time, he kept his gambling addiction well hidden, they knew he was unhappy in college and wanted to leave.

"I thought joining the military would save me—for a long time, and it did. Being in the military taught me self-discipline and self-control, it gave me a decent life, and most importantly, it gave me a focused mind. Goal, stop focusing on yourself. I haven’t gambled in eight years. I thought I was ‘healed.’ So after my second stint, I was demobilized and went back home.”

He cleared his throat and rubbed his palms up and down his thighs.No matter how many times he told this story, he found it difficult to tell.

"The problem is that I'm used to performing missions. When I lose my mission, I lose my purpose. I don't have a job and I don't have a goal. I'm used to living together with my comrades. After years of service, civilian life is It’s like a black and white movie. I’m not angry, I’m not sad, but there’s nothing that interests me, excites me, makes me happy. Only gambling can get me out of that void.”

He had to stop again.Everyone in the room was polite and didn't interrupt; they all had their own experiences, but some of the most real feelings about gambling addiction are shared by everyone here.

"The second attack, the situation is much more serious." The memories hidden deep in his mind were suddenly revealed, making him palpitate. "I'm an adult, living alone and accountable to no one. I can sit in a casino for eighteen hours a day. I've lost all my savings and am in huge debts. My mother and siblings once Redeemed me out on bond again. But no matter how serious the situation is, I can't stop it, I really can't. I hate myself."

He choked up, and Anita—he'd known the woman for more than two years—took his hand, squeezed it, and let him go, giving him an encouraging smile.

“My dog ​​saved my life,” he said. “She was seven months old and she had pancreatitis. She needed blood transfusions, fluids, medicine—I didn’t have money for her. My account had only For three yuan, all credit cards were overdrawn. I had to call my mother and beg her to pay in advance." He swallowed hard. "I didn't have and haven't felt as much shame as I did. I had a dog who loved and trusted me so much and I watched her dying. If it wasn't for my mum to help, she would have died , then it's all my fault."

It was one of the most traumatic moments of his life, realizing he was so out of control that he couldn't even keep his dog, he was devastated.

"It was the anti-bone girl who gave me the courage and determination to help me stop. Before that, nothing had done that much. It became my duty, my new mission, to take care of her. I finally went to seek a professional Help, I think of her every time that urge strikes—to think how much she needs me to keep myself in control. I was thinking of her earlier today when I was tempted to the brink of death. I thought, In recovery, it’s important to have something or someone around to give you a reason to stay sane. I don’t care how much I hurt, but I can never hurt her. She keeps me strong.”

He leaned back in the chair, breathed a sigh of relief, and let go of the burden on his mind. "Thank you Dom," said Garth, and the crowd applauded him. "Anita, what about you next?"

The ensuing rally was as usual, with several people sharing their experiences, and everyone expressing sympathy for each other's struggles.After an hour, everyone stood up, held hands and recited the "Prayer of Tranquility [1]" as the ending.Dominique lingered after the meeting to help clean up the lounge and join a few others in small talk over coffee and chocolate chip cookies.

He left church feeling better, calmer and more focused.It was getting late, so he could only find a place to eat on the way home, because there was nothing in the refrigerator.Or he could go to Carlos and Jasmin and see if they want to go out to eat together.

After thinking about it, he went out to the parking place.Just as he was waiting to turn the corner and get out of the parking lot, his mobile phone suddenly rang a text message notification, and he did not recognize the number that sent the message.

Officer Abrams is in danger.He needs your help.

Before Dominique could digest the bizarre content, another message came, with a street address and a room number he didn't recognize.

He turned on voice typing, and said while driving into the traffic: "Who are you?"

The content of the reply was a picture - playing card seven of spades.

A shiver ran up his spine, but he still held the steering wheel firmly and focused on the road. "incredible."

please.He was implicated by me and was in danger, I can only help him here.

Dominique drove another block, bit his lower lip, cursed and pulled over.If Levi's life might be in danger, even if the possibility was extremely remote, he couldn't ignore it.

"Why didn't you call the police?" he asked, typing the address into the GPS.

I sent a harassment complaint to the hotel where Officer Abrams was staying, but I can't go into details or they would know it was me.They would think it was a trap, and delaying it might cost him his life.

Dominique waited until there was a gap in the traffic flow and then drove back on the road, following the marked route.He was a little surprised to find the address not far away; with any luck, he'd be there in a few minutes.

"How do you know I won't be what they think?"

Because you are already on your way.

[1] Senrenity Prayer, an anonymous prayer created by American theologian Reinhold Niebuhr, is often used by mutual aid addiction recovery groups such as Alcoholics Anonymous.