The Twins

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Chapter Twenty-One

The taxi cab stopped a half a block away from the Double 0 precinct and Isis stepped out. She had no idea where Taylor went with her truck. She marched into the precinct and stormed up the stairs. She was hoping to find Taylor there, however, she didn’t. I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch, she thought.

After five minutes of fuming, Detective Chalk, who was called Casper by his comrades, walked over to Isis. He told her about the progress he and his partner were making and that he had eleven more acting studios to check out. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He handed her a large manila envelope. “A homeless man stopped by the precinct and dropped this off.”

“What is it?”

Casper shrugged his shoulders and walked back to his cubicle. Isis read the name on the envelope: Dickerson. She opened the envelope and removed the content. She was staring at a sketch that was made by an expert. The details were unbelievable. The drawing was done on a single sheet of napkin paper. “It’s them,” she shouted.

Isis looked around for Taylor before she remembered that he stole her car. Then she realized that there was something else inside of the manila envelope. It was a note from Mr. Dickerson. Isis read the note: “These are the girls that killed Joe.”

Isis stared at the faces that Dickerson had drawn. The girls were identical twins. They had dark eyes and short, curly brown hair. Isis noticed something else, too. The twins had a red mark that covered their mouths. Although the marks were faded, it was noticeable. Isis knew exactly what they were. The marks were made by duct tape applied across their mouths. When the tape was removed, so was some of their skin. Isis stared at the drawing. Dickerson had drawn four sides of the twins’ faces on the napkin. Isis shook her head at the details. “Unbelievable.” She stopped by the copy machine and made a few copies of the sketch that Dickerson had sent over. Then she stopped by Lt. Stone’s office.

The lieutenant was talking to another detective. “... It looks like an overdose, but forensic thinks it might be foul play. 145th Street. Take Milford with you.” After the detective had left, Isis gave Stone a copy of the sketch. “A homeless man made this of our perps.”

“Where’s your partner?” he asked as he stared at the drawing.

“I don’t know, sir.” Stone glanced up at her.

“A homeless man did this? It looks like the work of an expert.”

“Yeah, it’s unbelievable.

“So, these are our suspects. I’ll put out a B.O.L.O. Casper tells me that he and Gomez have eleven more acting schools to check out.”

“Yes, sir, we’re on this thing.”

Lt. Stone made some kind of sign language with his hands. Isis reciprocated.


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