Previously in Domino
Domino was approached by SHIELD to head the Mutant Affairs Division, a joint venture by the UN and the US government that dealt with mutant issues. Her first case is the pursuit of the Butterfly Killer, a psychopath who was stealing the wings of young mutants.
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- DOMINO
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- DAKOTA NORTH
THE BUTTERFLY KILLER
Part I: In Which We Meet Miss North
By Aaron Stanley
As Domino walked into her new office, she juggled the doughnuts, coffee, and newspaper she’d grabbed, in addition to the stack of files she’d got from Gabby Jones. It was quite a pile of stuff, and she was very happy when she set everything down on her desk. It was 0730, and she wanted to get her office set up before her first appointment showed up at 0900.
Domino took a moment to look around her, at the small office. She’d almost been shocked at how new the building was. She’d checked in the lobby, and the dedication plaque was dated 2003, so the building was very modern. It didn’t seem that busy as of yet. The board in the lobby only listed five other tenants, only two of which were on this side of the fifth floor. It gave her a nice sense of security, knowing that anyone that came up the elevator was coming to see her, most likely.
She sat down, and was working on setting up her desk when the outer door to the main office space opened. Domino reached for her gun, and had it half way out of the holder when she saw the young woman.
“Who the hell are you?” the mutant demanded.
“I’m Jane Demears. FedEx. I have a package for the Mutants Affairs Division. Sign here,” the young woman said. She held the electronic reader out to Domino, who got up and crossed the office, and signed on the line. She took the small package from the woman, and returned to her desk. She opened the package, and slid out the small document holder. She read through the first document. It was the contact information for all the various investigative agencies that had been tasked with tracking down the Butterfly Killer. It had numbers for the NYPD Homicide division and the FBI Special Investigations Unit, NY Branch.
She decided to call the NYPD first and see what she could do.
The phone rang once before a gruff voice answered. “Homicide, Stankowski,” said the man on the other end of the phone.
“Hello, my name is Beatrice Thurman. I’ve been tasked with the Butterfly Killer murders on behalf of the United States government. I was wondering how I could get what files and information your department has on the killings.”
“Well, you’d have to come get them and sign them out of our evidence storage facility.”
“Excellent. Can I have the address for your precinct?” Domino asked. She wrote down the address, and hung up. She repeated the process with the FBI. She’d have to go and get the files later, as it was 0815, and she still had yet to organize her office. Domino decided to do that, and she grabbed a small letter opener. Other than the desk and her chair, she didn’t have any of her office furniture assembled, and she would have to order another desk for Dakota, if the PI signed on with the investigation.
It was almost 0900 by the time Domino had figured out the instructions for the small filing cabinet. She put it in the place she wanted it, and broke open a box of hanging file folders, as she heard the door open again.
The woman that walked through the door seemed to be exactly what Domino had imagined she would be. Attractive, but with a keen gaze and a look that seemed to say she didn’t miss much in the way of anything.
“Dakota North?” Domino asked, wanting to make sure she had the right person.
“Yup. Beatrice Thurman?” Dakota asked in return, as she looked around the small office. She didn’t seem all that impressed with her surroundings.
“Yeah, it’s not much to look at. Give it time. So, Dakota, I’ll cut to the chase. You been following the news about these killings the media have dubbed the Butterfly Killings?” Domino asked.
“Yup. Pretty grisly stuff if you ask me, but truth be told, after the first two, it’s gone quiet. I imagine it’s because the feds took over, and issued a gag order, which means this is big time. Which means that since there hasn’t been an arrest, he’s still on the loose, still killing? I miss anything?”
“And people say that private detectives aren’t good at what they do,” Domino said, sarcastically. “I’ve been charged with taking this maniac down, and I have no idea where to start. I figured that I could do worse than to have you help me, seeing as you know the ins and outs of an investigation. I’ve got a package here for a job offer,” Domino said. She grabbed the documents she’d been handed by Gabby on the flight from Madripoor to New York. It’d been blank, with just the name of any person that was brought into the investigation missing. Domino handed the package to Dakota, and let the other woman read through it.
Dakota took the bunch of papers, and began to read through it. The first page was a confidentiality agreement. She signed it, and dated it, as all it meant was that she couldn’t talk about the case. Well, she didn’t know anything about the case that hadn’t been in the newspapers, so it was a moot point anyways.
The next group of pages went on for five pages. It detailed her legal rights and responsibilities if she agreed to be part of the investigation. It detailed that she’d be a member of the US government’s Mutant Affairs Division for the duration, deputized as a special investigator. She liked the sounds of it, but she’d never heard of the Mutant Affairs Division.
She signed that group of papers as well. It didn’t oblige her to anything, other than doing what she was being asked to do, and what she’d agreed to do.
Dakota rolled her eyes as she turned the page. It was another agreement listing the dos and don’ts of what she was agreeing to. She signed it without reading it, and flipped to the next page. She stopped cold as she did, looking at the list of pay she was to receive for her part in the investigation. It was…substantial, at least to her. There was a benefits package attached while she was an employee of the US, in addition to her pay. She couldn’t believe how much she was going to be paid. She hurriedly signed the piece of paper, before it was taken off the table. Dakota then flipped to the last page, which was the only page that detailed a specific case that she would be investigating. It detailed the case number for the investigation with the NYPD and FBI. She signed this too, and then pushed the pile of documents back to Domino.
“There, I’ve signed your forms,” she said. She massaged her wrist, which was sore from all the signatures and initials she’d had to sign.
“Good. I’ll photocopy it, and give you the originals later. For now, I’m going to have you come with me as gather up the case files,” Domino said. She grabbed the keys that had been left in the office, and went to the underground car park. She hit the car alarm’s disarm button, and spotted a beat up old Ford Crown Victoria. Figures, she thought to herself. Some beat up old POS.
She climbed in the driver’s seat, and unlocked the car for Dakota. She started up the car, and they pulled onto the busy street.
“Ok, first we’re going to hit up the NYPD Precinct house a few blocks over,” she said. It took them fifteen minutes to drive the distance, and then another twenty to find a parking spot.
The two women walked into the building, and got directions to the homicide division. As they walked into the area, Domino was struck by how hectic it was. She asked the first person that wasn’t busy where she could find Detective Stankowski.
“He’s over there, towards the back wall,” the man said, before returning to his ringing phone.
Dakota leaned into Domino’s ear before she whispered, “the budget cut backs mean this department is probably only half staffed. They bitch about how much work they have, then have their union take as much money as possible for each one. If they all made less, there would be more detectives.”
As she moved towards the indicated area of the room, Domino couldn’t help but agree with Dakota’s logic. But, seeing as she was only in charge of her own division, she figured that she could let the NYPD union fight its own battles.
“Detective Stankowski?” she asked the man she saw. He matched the voice she’d heard on the phone earlier. The voice had been gruff, and so was the man. He was big, at 6’2’’, but also big, at close to 250 pounds. He looked like he hadn’t had a day off in years, a shower in longer, and couldn’t pick his razor out of a line-up. He was an altogether unimpressive person, and if the clutter on the mess was any indicator, Domino wasn’t surprised that the Butterfly Killer was still on the loose.
“Who wants to know?” the man asked. His eyes roamed over the two women in front of him, before returning to the open file that was on his desk.
“I called you earlier about the Butterfly Killer. I’m here to get the files, and ask if there’s anything that you could share about the case that isn’t in the official file?” she asked, in her sweetest voice. This was the lead detective on a case that was turning into a monster. She had to play nice, and get what she could from the man, before she went off on her own, half-cocked.
“Nope. I put it all in there. Only thing that isn’t in there is who the fuck it is. And if you know that, then you don’t need my fat ass. Now, if there ain’t anything I can help you with, I’ll get back to some real cases that deal with real people. You know, humans,” the man said.
Domino rolled her eyes, and turned to leave. The last thing she wanted to do was get into it with a bigot. She got directions to evidence locker, which was in the basement. Domino and Dakota took the elevator to the basement, and walked around for a minute before they managed to find the evidence lockers.
“Hello. I need everything you have on the Butterfly Killer, case number 11-253846-825,” she said, reading off the note she’d written in her office before leaving. She leaned against the desk while the attendant went to get the files.
After taking possession of the evidence, Dakota and Domino carried it out to their car, and then got in.
“Ok, one more stop,” the mutant said, putting the car into gear and pulling away from the curb.
1145, New York City offices of the Mutants Affairs Division
Domino and Dakota carried the large number of files into the small office, and set them down wherever they could. Domino had been surprised at how many files there were.
“So, you can try to put your desk together, or you can start making the list,” Domino said, turning to Dakota.
“List?” the other woman asked. She had no idea what Domino was talking about.
“Yeah. I’m no expert, and I’m guessing the NYPD doesn’t let PIs do many murder investigations, so we need someone who’s done the deal before. Someone who will help keep local PD off our ass, let us move about without getting jammed up. And I figure that you having worked in the city, you might know a detective that’s retired, but still has the stuff to help us track down a serial killer.”
Dakota thought for a moment.
“You know, I got a guy. Ain’t a need for any list, just a phone call,” she said, walking to the phone. Domino figured that she had made a decision, and so Domino set about putting together Dakota’s desk.
Despite the instructions, Domino’s expertise, and her probability altering powers, it took Domino twice the time the instructions said it would, for her to put together the desk. She finished just as Dakota set the phone down.
“Ok, so I’ve tracked my guy down. He’s not retired yet, I guess his nest egg took a shit kicking in the market crash, so he’s got to hold on for a few more years,” she said. She held up a notepad. “These are his demands if he’s going to help us.”
Domino took the list, and looked it over. She laughed at a few of the items, frowned at others.
“He wants a steak dinner, $10,000, federal credentials, and a $1,000 a day per diem?” Domino asked. She couldn’t believe the demands the guy had made. “I can’t just approve this, you know. I got to run this up the flagpole.”
“Take your time,” Dakota replied. “He’s got to clear a thing he’s got off his schedule, anyways.”
“A thing? Care to elaborate?” Domino asked, dialling the number she’d been given for her D.C. contact.
“Yeah, just a little thing. He’s got a bad ticker. Too many years of shit food, stakeouts, and cheap booze. It all caught up to him one day when he was chasing a perp, had a heart attack. But, he had some surgery, and is on medical leave for a bit. Figures he’ll get cut loose from the hospital in the next couple of hours, and he’s got a full two months on medical leave, figures he can help us run this thing down,” Dakota said. It was probably more than she needed to tell Domino, but Dakota wasn’t the type to hold unimportant information close to her chest.
“Oh, that’s fine. I ask for the cream of the crop, and you give me a fat, drunk, out of shape guy, with one foot and his head out the door?” Domino asked. She put her gun on the desk, and spun her chair so she was facing away from Dakota. “Why don’t you just put two in the back of my skull, quick and painless?”
Dakota just laughed. “Stop being a drama queen. He might be all those things, but he’s one of the best investigators the NYPD has left, over 50.”
Domino was about to fire back when the line rang.
“Good afternoon, Halloran Corporation, how may I direct your call?” Domino heard. She found it odd that the US government would have a sanctioned, government division use a front for its needs. Domino rationalized it as the deniability, so that anti-mutant groups and officials wouldn’t see a direct link between the government and mutants. But, she had experience working like this, and in the end it didn’t really affect her.
“Hi, this is the Mutant Affairs Division chief calling. I need someone to set up a numbered account with a major US bank, and fax or e-mail me the account info. We’re hiring an outside contractor, and it occurred to me that we didn’t have a bank account for them to draw on.”
“Understood, ma’am. What I need you to do is fax a copy of your credentials to the following number. From there, an account will be set up within 6 hours,” the woman in D.C. said. She read Domino the fax number, and they hung up the line.
“Ok, so, I need to do some running around. We need office equipment, as well as a bunch of other things. You do me a favour. Try to work up a profile. If you think you need help, contact a profiler, get them in on this,” Domino said, as she scribbled a list of things they would need for the office. “You think of anything you need around here, hit me up on my cell phone.”
“Yeah, will do,” Dakota said.
1323, New York City offices of the Mutants Affairs Division
Domino came into the office, juggling a large number of bags from Office Depot. She dropped the bags on the desk, and turned to Dakota.
“Ok, so I got three laptops, a fax machine, photocopier, couple of printers, a projector and screen, and a bunch of stuff for the conference room down the hall.I also got a bunch of supplies coming, investigation things, so we can recreate the scenes of the murders. I miss anything?” Domino asked. She was amazed at how much money could be spent in only three stores. Her personal funds were almost nonexistent, so she was hoping that Halloran would release the funds soon. Her first task had been to fax the credentials.
“Nope. I got good news, and great news. I called in a friend from D.C. Worked with the FBI on profiling. Great news is he’ll be in tomorrow morning. Also, he’s going to do it no charge, with one provisio. When we bust the Butterfly Killer, we credit this guy. Says it’ll help his career,” Dakota explained.
“Done. We’re getting our stuff delivered tomorrow morning as well, so if you want to knock off for the day, go for it. I’ve got to sort out all the supplies,” Domino mentioned. Mostly she wanted to be alone for a bit.
“Sure,” Dakota said. She got up and grabbed her stuff. It’d been an odd day for her, and she hoped that tomorrow she’d be able to actually get to the case that was in front of them.
After Dakota left, Domino first set up the rest of the furniture, which consisted of a filing unit and a cabinet for all the office supplies. She found the task of putting things away in the cabinet relaxing. For the most part her mind wasn’t really focused on one thing.
The last thing she did before she left the office was set up the peg board and whiteboard that she’d bought, and carried up from the car after Dakota had left. On the peg board, she hung up pictures of all the victims, taking time to look at all of them. What amazed her was how young they all were, and how…clean, the killings were. Other than the missing wings, and the strangulation marks, the bodies weren’t really beat up. When she had hung a picture of each victim, she wrote each name down on the white board.
After that was done, she counted them. In all, over an 18 month span, almost 40 young mutants had been killed. As Domino once more looked over the photos, the mutants who had been so brutalized hit her; her mind reacted, and her body followed. She was barely able to make it to the bathroom before she was sick.
As Domino cleaned herself up, she promised herself that she’d find the killer and bury the bastard.
Next Issue: Domino and Dakota start their pursuit of this Maniac of Manhattan.
For those reader(s?) that see this as a sudden change of direction for Domino, all I can say is I understand, and hopefully you stick with this new direction for a few issues. This is a direction that I’m not sure Domino has been in before, but one I feel that will open up new possibilities for the character.
Aaron Stanley
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