John Price: You Must Save The Human Race: An Alien Invasion, Sci-Fi Erotica, Harem Fantasy, Time Travel, Men's Adventure set in 1993. (John Price: You Must Save The Human Race.) by Merick N. H. Ulrik

Author:Merick N. H. Ulrik [Ulrik, Merick N. H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-08-06T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Dead Strippers Nothing to see here.

The presidential suite at the Hampton inn was not cheap, but the hotel records of who rented it were gone. Whoever cleared the records had damaged the surveillance video as well. The police viewed the footage of the video and it was just a gray, garbled blur.

“Captain, I ain’t seen nothing like this. Check this out,” said officer Murphey. Murphey had thinning blonde hair. He was in his late thirties. His white pasty-skin never saw too much sun as he rarely took a day off and when he did, he was so exhausted he slept in. He wasn’t a rookie, but a beat cop who worked his way into the CID of Austin PD. The Criminal investigations division. He was hard-working but too eager and inexperienced for the chief and the senior detectives to respect him.

“I don’t know what that is,” said the detective, Captain Pierce Jorgenson. Jorgenson was short. He had grey hair, he was clean cut, and was fifty pounds overweight and always in a bad mood. “Will you look at that? Damn it, I spilled coffee on another suit.” Captain Jorgenson’s gray wrinkled suit looked lived in.

“Do you think a large magnet could have erased the tapes?” asked Murphey.

“How should I know? Do I look like a God—damn, Scientist?” asked Jorgenson rhetorically. “Whatever sick—sons of bitches did that killed the front desk clerk and the two females in the suite.”

The morgue worker wheeled out the hotel clerk on a gurney in a body bag as Jorgenson finished talking.

“Go up to the suite and sign the evidence log for the report,” said Jorgenson. “I’m done here today. I can’t stand anymore. If you see anything not listed on the report, make an amendment. We don’t want the Feds to blame us for a thing.”

“The Feds? What are they doing here? It’s a local murder case,” said Murphey.

“They want us off the case immediately,” said Jorgenson. “And good riddance to this one. Let the fucking Feds take this one.”

“Why?” asked Murphey.

“It’s a dead end,” said Jorgenson. “But they have a similar murder case in Dallas they are taking on, too.”

”Is this some kind of ritual or serial killer?” asked Murphey.

“You are a good guy, Murphey, but you don’t pay attention,” said Jorgenson.

“But why is the Bureau getting involved?” pressed detective Murphey.

“I never said this,” whispered Jorgenson as he leaned his forehead into Murphey’s face. “My old chief told me. There were blood and substances at the scene in the victims, but it wasn’t human. The DNA evidence was unidentified.”

“What do you mean, not human?” asked Murphey.

“I don’t know, fuck—just what I said,” said the captain. “It sounds crazy to me, too. It’s a case you don’t want on your record. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. These cases with dead strippers turning tricks never make careers. These sluts probably tried to rob these guys. Maybe they were Russian mob or something. The other girls at the strip club said they talked funny. No discernable accent, but they used Bad English.

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