Previously…

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. She’s put together a team, consisting of private detective Dakota North, NYPD Detective Jake Ramo, and FBI profiler Lewis Ruttin.

THE BUTTERFLY KILLER

Part II: All We Have Are Jack and Shit, and Jack Just Left Town

By Aaron Stanley

The phone rang at exactly 9 A.M., according to Domino. She grabbed the receiver, and held to her ear.

“Mutant Affairs, Beatrice speaking,” she said. It was odd hearing her real name said aloud, as it had been rarely used since the Domino moniker had been given to her.

“Dom, it’s Gabriel. I’m calling for an update on the Butterfly Killer. I know it’s only been a couple days, but I got people breathing down my neck for it, and while I hate to pressure you on it, some things are riding on a speedy outcome,” Gabriel said into the receiver. As the head of S.H.I.E.L.D., he had appointed Domino to run the Mutant Affairs Division, a join US-UN venture.

“Well, I’ve got all the case files her, and I’ve had Dakota put a team together. We’re getting together in an hour to do a work up on a profile. After that, we’re going to run down some leads me and Dakota dug up. But since you called, I figure now might be a good time to ask for a favour,” Domino said.

“I need to know if there’s a program that can scan through the digital copies of all the case files, and find commonalities,” Domino asked. She figured if anyone knew of a program to find leads, one of the world’s top spies would be the one.

“Yeah, I got something like that. I’ll send you the link to download it in a few. So, you’re making headway on the case? And wasn’t there a profile from when the FBI took over the case?” Gabriel asked.

“As a matter of fact, there was, but I felt that it might be in our best interests to start fresh,” Domino replied, somewhat upset with Gabby, as she called him, questioning her methods. But she figured he must be under a lot of pressure to solve the case, pressure which she wasn’t felling because he was running block. “I figure we should be able to have a solid profile by the end of the day, which we’ll compare to the FBI profile. So, if that’ll be all, I’ll let you go, the team’s starting to show up,” Domino said, and hung up the phone. She ran her hands through her hair, and let out a low moan.

Dakota smiled as she saw the motion. “Man troubles?”

“Worse. Spy, boss, AND man troubles,” Domino replied.

Dakota shrugged in response. “Maybe I should have put two in your head the other day.”

15 Minutes Later

Domino had gathered together the team she’d assembled to track down and apprehend the Butterfly Killer. The team consisted of Dakota North, NYPD Detective Jake Ramo, and FBI profiler Lewis Ruttin. Domino had been able to convince their respective departments to release them for a period of time, so as to apprehend the killer. Domino moved to the front of the conference room, and addressed them.

”Okay, we all know why we’re here. The Butterfly Killer. Before we get moving, I want to take us all through the killings again, one by one, so we all have a clear picture,” Domino said. She turned to the pegboard behind her, and hung up a picture of all the victims. “With the last one, that makes an even 18 mutants who have been killed, and had their wings removed.”

”From the investigation files, we can note that all of them are between the ages of 18 and 32” she continued. “None of their residences show signs of forced entry, so that means that most likely this is someone they knew. We have a wide selection of people, from a large cross-section of demographics. Questions so far?” she asked.

No one said anything, so Domino continued. “We have literally no leads here, people. What we do have is a lot of files. I’ve taken the liberty of sorting all the various files into only 18 files, one for each victim. What I want is for us to, as a team, work up a profile on the suspect, or suspect, and his or her motive.”

Domino pulled the first file off the top of the three stacks, and opened it. “Okay, first victim’s name is Daniel Layola. White male, 26 years old. Born September 17th, 1984, found dead on March 14th, 2010, estimated time of death, March 12, 2010, approximately 2100. Found dead in his apartment on Powell Avenure, Bronx. No sign forced entry into the home, no windows open, although the police investigation notes that only the knob lock was locked on the front door, and not the chain lock,” Domino said, reading from the amalgamated report. “That’s something we should note, if you could, Lewis. Report continues that it appears that there was a brief struggle, and that the victim was asphyxiated. Hand measurements on the victim’s throat correlate to a male, between 6 foot 2 inches and 6 foot 4 inches. Blood pooling shows that the victim spent little time on his back post-mortem, so the coroner surmised that the killer took what he wanted immediately.”

By the time the team was done going through all the files, they’d consumed a whole day in discussion and review.

“Okay, folks,” Domino said, standing and stretching. “Let’s go over once more what we have as far as notes for a possible profile,” she continued, grabbing the notepad, and moving to the empty whiteboard she’d set up for suspects. “So, we have medical skills, which we established could mean doctors, nurses, EMTs, medics. Someone with a good degree of physical strength, patience, who knows how a body acts after death, but that can be learned by watching CSI nowadays, so no point in listing that. So, really we have a great big steaming pile of shit.”

“Pretty much,” Dakota said. “Lewis, can you make sense of any of this for a profile?”

“Yeah. But you’re not going to get anything we don’t already know. Most likely a male, age roughly 20-30, since his first few victims showed signs of hesitancy, which may mean nervousness. He’s known to the victims, but not feared, so it’s someone they trust, which lends itself to the doctor theory. Perhaps he is an entomologist due to the fascination with the wings. Other than that, I can’t say, until we know more.”

“Ok. Well, on that theory, I’m going to head over to that support group that the first couple victims went to. Maybe I can dig something up there,” Domino said. “See you all tomorrow.”

45 Minutes Later

Domino leaned against the wall at the back of the room. Arranged before her were multiple rows of chairs, some of which were occupied. It’d taken her a while to find the room in the slightly run down community centre.

As the meeting of the support group wrapped up, Domino approached the person who seemed to be running the meeting. She reached into her coat, and was about to show it to the man, when he took off running. She thought it out, and sadly almost obligatory, but she took off after him, as he ran up the stairs, and burst out the security door to the room. He ran to the edge of the roof, and jumped to the next one, as Domino closed the gap. The man was getting close to the edge of the second building when Domino finally managed to trip him up. She held him to the ground, and grabbed for his wallet.

“Hey, you can’t do that, I don’t have anything on me. You take me in, and I’ll beat it man, I’ll beat it,” the man said hurriedly.

“Shut up,” Domino said, as she threw the wallet back at the man. “Why you running, I just want to ask some questions. I ought to crack you one, making me run up some stairs, and chase your dumb ass, jumping over bridges like some kind of super woman.” She helped the man sit up, and showed him the pictures of three of the victims. “Recognize anyone?”

“Yeah, all of them. Haven’t seen them in a bit, figured they were getting over their problems. What’s this about?” queried the man

“Shut up,” Domino said as she hit the man gently with the pictures. “I’ll ask the questions, or we’ll see how good you can jump across a four lane street. They were all here for depression, that I know. Any of them mention going to see a new doctor or anything before they stopped showing up?”

“Naw. Actually, she mentioned going to some new clinic, somewhere in Brooklyn. The others I didn’t talk to a whole lot, they kept to themselves.”

“What’s the name of the clinic?” Domino pressed. She knew that she couldn’t stop the man from leaving, and as soon as he knew it she was going to run out of time to ask questions. So she had to press for what she could.

“Couldn’t tell you. New something, but something weird. New Ridge?”

Domino realized the man wasn’t going to be any help from the man, he’d told her all he could.

“All right. Next time don’t run, or you’ll get a slug in your leg, y’hear?” she told the man. She got up, and climbed down the side of the building by way of the fire escape. It wasn’t much information to go on, a partial name and a half-assed address, but two pieces of information was more than she’d had when she came up the stairs.

Domino got on her Ducati that she’d had shipped from Madripoor thanks to SHIELD, and rode up to Flatbush Avenue, and drove the length of it. While she drove by it inside of ten minutes, Domino didn’t see the clinic until the second time she passed it, so tucked away was the entrance. It was on Flatbush, as she was told, near Foster Avenue. She marked the location on her phone, and made a mental note to return tomorrow when it was open.

Content she had made some progress, she put her bike back into gear, and drove to her apartment. She made sure as she always did, to check the anti-intrusion tricks she’d set up. None of them were tripped, but she was sure that at some point, someone had entered her apartment, during the course of the day. She searched it from top to bottom, and could only find one thing that was disturbed, and that was that one drawer on her dresser was slightly open. She weighed the option of staying up all night and waiting to see if the burglar returned, but she reasoned that whomever it was, they already had whatever they wanted, or they didn’t. So she showered quickly, and then ordered in food, and sitting down to watch tv.