I headed towards the coastal area of Chicago, the only place I could let my guard down and the only site free from the isocline death this city of darkness illuminates. In the subway area of this coast side, there's a wall that I get into that has this room with flickering lights and multiple computer screens. I lay a mat down to sleep wherever I could find space, but now was not the time to sleep. I take out the pictures I took at the bank robbery and the restaurant examining them closely, trying to find any connection between the two. The more I look at the bullet holes on the restaurant victims, the more I start to see some sort of symbol, character, or letter. It seems like the murderer tried spelling something out using their torsos to leave a message to the law enforcement, but they haven't seemed to catch on. I started trying to connect the dots, and I got eight letters, all different letters that could spell out only two other words. The letters I got were P-I-E-R-M-O-S-T, a weird order. The only total eight-letter words I could get were "stompier" and "imposter." Trying to decipher what these letters meant was extremely difficult. I decided to deem this discovery useless and begin a new approach:
1. Find out what exact weapon was used at the restaurant murders
2. Find where the weapons were collected or sold
I call Lamar. The phone rings. I become lost in thought, my head flaring and shimmering with thoughts and memories like northern lights. Eyes half-open. My eyelids stuck in a gruesome war between awakeness and sleep. It's been a long hour. The phone picks up. "Yo." the detective says.
"It's me."
"OH. Well, what's up?"
"Have you guys identified the weapon used at the restaurant?"
"No, we haven't; everyone has mostly focused on you."
"I see. I'll do it myself."
"Hey! Wait. Le-."
I hung up the phone before he could get his last words in. I had become concentrated on determining what weapon was used at the restaurant. I pinpointed each bullet hole on their torsos from the photo and got a zoom-in view to select the gun. After zooming in, I suggest certain assumptions I could make about the bullet hole by just looking. Then after applying my background knowledge and personal experiences, I attempt to back them up with facts to draw a conclusion by emulating scenarios or trying to identify the hardness value of the bullet based on the damage it's done to the torso. Subsequently repeating this process multiple times, It became a heated debate about whether or not the .204 Ruger and the .223 Remington was the ammunition of choice. Thankfully both options could match an AR-15 Cartridge which was the weapon of choice for the Fifth Third Bank attackers. Following my scrutiny of the city's footage (courtesy of the detective), I found out that a black truck has delivered weapons to a hotel every Thursday for the past six weeks. Looking at the model of the black truck, I found that Rafeh Anfernee, a Business Advisor for the Juhmvous family (not whom they seem), owns a large share of that model vehicle. I also learned that he would be staying at the hotel for the next five days, a perfect opportunity to make my move. As I put on the mask that keeps me whole, the fire inside me starts burning again, encouraging me to put an end to this case as this hour reaches its final minutes..