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but the people of these neighborhoods are concerned and frightened. We owe it to them to stop this.”

“Yes, and that’s what we’re trying to do,” insists Ricci. “But whoever this perp is, he is very selective and careful. It’s not like someone is randomly shooting up the neighborhood. I just like to keep things in perspective.”

On Wednesday, Ricci leaves work early, telling Garcia he has some personal business to take care of. On his way home, he stops at the Paganelli Oncology Center in northwest Chicago. Unbeknownst to his co-workers, Ricci’s pancreatic cancer from two years ago has returned and is now in his liver.

During his first bout with cancer, Ricci had surgery, then took chemo and radiation treatments to knock down the cancer. The treatments, as well as the stress of the drug dealer killings, took their toll. He started to lose weight and strength. Shortly after the first string of killings stopped, Ricci was forced to take a five-month leave of absence to complete his treatments and recover.

Two months ago, during his regular cancer screening, he was told the cancer was back and was now in his liver. The prognosis was not good. With surgery, chemo, and radiation, doctors gave him only a 20% chance of beating the cancer. If the treatment did not work, doctors gave him twelve to eighteen months to live. With aggressive treatment, he was told he would probably be too weak and sick to continue working. After considering his options, Ricci chose to only undergo radiation treatment. He did not want to go through the sickness that comes with both radiation and chemo like he had two years ago, finally forcing him to take the leave of absence. He just wanted to feel as good as possible for as long as possible and would continue working for as long as he could. There was no sense sitting in that big house by himself just waiting to die.

Ricci has noticed in recent weeks that he has started to lose some weight again and is not as strong as he used to be. His thrice-weekly workouts have become more difficult and he’s getting nauseous more often. But Ricci is at peace with his decision. The Candy Man Killer is back, no time to quit now.

Ninth Attack

It is the last Monday in September when Garcia shows up to work early to review the crime logs for the weekend. He likes to keep up on all the crime in the area, as you never know when something might indicate a connection to the Candy Man Killer. Being thorough in his investigations, Garcia looks for all possible angles.

Garcia also likes to check the arrest logs, as Nathan Smith, aka Snowman, has still not been located and he hopes Smith will show up on an arrest record sometime. The Snowman seems to be laying low right now, as even Detective Jackson has been unable to find him.

At about 8:20, Ricci walks in later than usual. Garcia notices Ricci looks particularly tired this Monday morning. “You doing okay Mike?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine, just didn’t sleep well last night is all. Anything on the crime log we have to be worried about?”

“A couple robberies, minor assaults, couple drug busts,” responds Garcia. “At least no one got killed.”

“Do we have a meeting scheduled today with Marshall?” asks Ricci.

“Yes, at ten-thirty.”

Neither detective makes the meeting. At 9:45, they receive notice of a ninth homicide in which a local dealer has been stabbed to death sometime over the weekend. Garcia grabs his small .38 caliber handgun and straps it into his right ankle holster. He started carrying a backup after his first-day talk with Commander Marshall. Both detectives then leave for the crime scene.

This time, the attack took place inside a home in the East Garfield neighborhood. The victim lived on the ground floor of a two-story multi-family brick home. The front door faces the street. The victim, a young black male, was found lying on his back approximately eight feet inside his front door. He has a large gaping hole in his midsection from which a large amount of blood has flowed, soaking his gray t-shirt. The blood around the body has already coagulated and much of it is already dried. The odor of decay has started to fill the room. The only other clothing worn by the victim is a pair of black running shorts. Placed neatly across his upper chest is a Cardet kitchen utility knife. Officers on the scene find identification from the victim’s bedroom identifying him as 31-year-old William Logan.

Upon their arrival, Garcia takes in the crime scene. “Unbelievable. Again, no obvious forced entry. He must have known his assailant. I mean, why else would his victims just allow him to come into their home?”

“You’re probably right Juan,” agrees Ricci. “That’s why I suspect it all ties back to the drug trade. Someone is not happy with these guys. And don’t you find it curious Snowman has suddenly been invisible?”

“Oh yeah, it’s definitely crossed my mind. But without any evidence, unless he confesses we have nothing to tie him to these murders.”

Sergeant Pennington and Commander Marshall both arrive on-site in the same car, Pennington driving. They survey the scene. It all seems so familiar.

“My god, what do we have going on here?” exclaims Marshall.

“It’s not good sir,” says Garcia. “We need a break. A witness, piece of evidence, anything.”

“It looks and smells like he’s been dead for some time,” says Marshall.

“Yeah,” interjects Ricci, “I’d estimate Friday night or early Saturday morning.”

“Who found him?”

“His cousin over there,” says Ricci as he points to a young adult male being interviewed by officers. “He says he came over to check on our victim because he had not heard from him for two days. This is what he found.”

Crime scene technicians arrive and begin the process of working the crime scene. They swab for foreign DNA, look for fibers, and dust for prints as they always do. But by now, the hope

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