They found the bodies at the bottom of the gorge at dawn. All of them decapitated. Detective Ludwin had his team scoured the scene for clues, but already knew the crime had taken place somewhere else. The area was completely devoid of blood.

"Raphael, get a shot of this," Ludwin said pointing at the metal rod sticking out of the neck cavity of one of the bodies. "Every one of these poor bastards have been executed by the same method. I just don't happen to know what the hell that is?"

The news hounds were already hovering over the gorge broadcasting live shots and streaming it all on the net. The world is live: wars, crimes, reality shows, and screaming fucked up movie stars shaving their heads and checking into rehab. It's all there, all the time, constant images of disconnected reality, the B movie of our lives.

Homicide came up with a solution to slow down the media frenzy. A simple canvas canopy, a number of them, erected on posts to block the scene. The gorge, surrounded by shear rock cliffs on three sides and a four hundred foot drop on the other, provided a natural barrier to delay the most intrepid photographers.

Ludwin said,
"Ok, we have real brain fucker here. The perpetrators dressed the vics in the same type of blue maintenance uniforms, cut off the heads, drained the bodies of blood, then stuck a metal rod down the severed neck shaft of each victim--dropped them down into this God forsaken hole. On each body they pinned a fingerprint card to the front of their clothing. We're waiting for the lab to confirm the ID. But why cut off the heads?"

This was more of a rhetorical statement by Ludwin. He'd been speaking to the homicide squad, but he could have easily been taking to himself. He'd said it out loud as if it would crystallize the bizarre nature of the crime. Offer some insight. It didn't.

"Detective you've been at it for thirty hours. Get some sleep, You're no good to us burned out."

"I should've shut off my phone and gone to that damn party. Right now I'd be nursing a hangover, scratching my ass and hoping that Linda would've seen things my way. I just hate those things. Answering all those "what've you been doin�" questions. I've been stuck in this rut for years, while most of them have moved on; the last thing I wanted to do is talk about why I'm still here," Ludwin said.

The Detective didn't take the advice about sleep. He slugged down coffee after coffee watching the beehive of forensic drones do their jobs. They had the all the high-tech stuff you'd see on CSI, but without the drama and rumbling soundtrack.

The call came in from Central as the dusty light from a fading day crept down into the gorge like some gaseous mist of death. The team had set up Klieg lights and the scene had been mapped and most forensic work done. Body bags and stretchers were readied to hoist each one of the seven victims up to waiting vans to haul them to the morgue for a complete work-up. The sergeant handed the satellite phone to Ludwin.

Detective Ludwin dropped the phone, put his hand up to his mouth, his eyed wide as he staggered, falling on one knee, stretching out to steady himself at one of the tables.

"Detective, you OK...Detective...Detective Ludwin...Sir?"

Ludwin had worked a crime scene where child was disemboweled while she sat at the breakfast table, cereal spoon still in hand with a bowl curdled milk and dried corn flakes. Her dead eyes rimmed in terror. He's seen it all and worse.

The news from Central pierced his soul, sent icicles of fear rocketing through his spine. His dedication, or actually his obsession to scrape the streets each night searching for the vermin that had taken the lives of others was all that mattered to him. He'd had no life to speak of, other that the force--unless his date each night, with bottle of scotch, constitutes a life.

The sergeant picked up the phone and finished the conversation with Central. He turned to Raphael and said,"Ludwin knew everyone of the victims. He'd graduated from the academy with them. Top of their game. They'd all moved on in law enforcement. There's a mob contract out on the detective, and he'd been less than cautious. The killers chose the reunion party for the hit. The same party he'd been invited to."