"... We have to start tonight's news with a shocking discovery made by SBPD. A professional model named Priscilla Gaynor was found dead a few feet away from the dock... She is the second of her kind that dies in similar circumstances in the last two weeks in Dade County! The Police Chief, Laurel Hartley, says he doesn't think the crimes are related, while Sheriff Ventura preferred to not voice any comments at this time, saying he'll make a public statement once certain lab tests get done... The two crimes were perpetrated using extreme violence against the victims... In other news, President Clinton..."

Dorothy Malone was feeling frightened. She was watching the news when the words started to come out of the tv set and into her ears, like if they had a life of their own... each word like an omen even worse than the prior one. It hadn't been enough to have had to go to the morgue and look at Betty Friedan's almost unrecognizable body, now this!! The anchor woman was saying that Priscilla had just suffered a violent death! What was happening, for Christ's sake?

"This woman Priddy is already talking about a possible serial murderer, you hear that? We have to stop those rumors at once! Sheriff Ventura is facing reelection, and we don't want any shit to come mess up everything"

Detective Laredo Garcia was calmly listening to his boss' usual rant for when things went wrong.

"What if she's right?- he dropped candidly.

That brought the little miracle of silencing Chief Hartley for a moment or two. But he reacted too fast, for Garcia's taste.

"Bullshit! We haven't had a serial killer in Miami/Dade in two years! Two years! This woman is looking for notoriety, and she'll get it, at our expense, if we don't react quickly!"

"How?"- Garcia's face was that of a veteran poker player, no expression at all.

"How! You get your ass out on the streets and find out who did this shit! That's how!"

"Our informants know nothing, and the lab boys say the criminal left no trace at all for neither of the two slaughters, so I guess he knows what he's doing..."

"... and so, you'll stay by my side telling me these things, I suppose"

"No, no. All I'm saying is this is no amateur, but a smart big leagues fella"

"Anyone can kill, given the circumstances..."

"True, but... twice?"

"You move your ass and spare me the philosophy, will you?"

Leroy Cummings was a good pimp. He treated her girls fine, well... more or less... except when they tried to cross him, especially with the dough or with another man. Then he could be viciously tough with them bitches. But after all, they deserved it! Nobody could claim to have crossed Leroy the King in vain! His greatest joy in life was the fact that he, a black man, and not precisely the handsomest prick, could make all those whity girlies in his stable to do as he wanted in bed.

And they even begged for more!!... the silly cows. And they actually believed in his hollow promises of eternal love... Were they naive... And they kept him living the good life... Ah, he kind of even kinda liked 'em... sometimes... thinkin' bout it.

Time to collect the money for the first shift of the night. He prided himself in having his bitches well- organized at work, schedules and all. He was nothing short of a genius. Old mama had said he'd end up in jail, at the very least, but that hadn't happened, 'xcept for a new nights at the station...

What? That modafucka's treating one o'ma ladies harsh? Shit!! No modafucka's allowed dat!! Only the King can do dat!! You'll see, asshole!!... The weird thang was the girlie was all silent, and that wasn't the bitches' style, they always screamed like shit at the slightest provocation, and evn' without one. And this moron was shaking his girl bad! Mama didn't have a stupid son... He decided to approach the situation carefully...

His already big eyes grew wide open when he saw what was happening...