"Fifteen two, fifteen four and a pair is six, and I'm out," chanted Miss McGann, "Pay up, Sam, my boy. You owe me seven and a quarter."

"Gladly, you have saved me from a night of excruciating boredom, once again."

She stood, picked up the chipped cup, and drained the dregs of the cheap whiskey we had been drinking while smoothing down her dress.

"It has been very quiet the last week. I wonder why?"

"Maybe because all the streetwalkers are too frightened to go out at night," I replied.

There had been a rash of mysterious and macabre murders that had happened sporadically over the last three years. The dismembered corpses of streetwalkers kept being discovered around the city in the most unlikely places. It was known the bodies were not killed where they were found but had been transported there.

"You might be right," she said. "Well, thank you for the game and cheap whiskey you shared with me. I'm going home."

"Good night Miss McGann."

"For Christ's sake, Sam, call me Molly. You make me feel like an old lady with that Miss McGann shit. I'm older than you are, but not that much older."

"Sorry, Miss… I mean, Molly. It's just that before I came to the city, I was a copyboy for our town paper, and the editor was an old-fashioned curmudgeon who insisted that all ladies be addressed as Miss or Mrs. unless they were related to you. Old habits die hard."

"Sam, you are no longer in the boonies. You now live in the city and are a reporter covering the crime beat for this paper. I am not the boss or your superior. I am the person who runs the archives. Call me Molly!"

"Yes, Molly," I replied with a smile.

She had reached the door when the police radio at my side squawked. I quickly put on my headphones, and Molly froze in the doorway. I jotted down the call's details and looked at Molly after I finished with a somber look.

"Another one?" she asked. I just nodded.

"You going out to do the story?"

"I have to," I answered. "Let me drive you home. I'd feel more comfortable with this maniac on the loose."

"That's not necessary, Sam. Do you think I look like a streetwalker?" she asked me with a wistful smile.

"No. Of course not, but why take chances?"

"Well, who am I to refuse your gallant offer? Thank you, Sam."

I looked at Molly as I followed her to the elevator and realized that something had changed in how I was looking at her. Calling her Molly had changed my perspective. I realized that under her unmade-up face and tightly bunched hair lay a rather attractive woman hidden by her lackluster clothes. She had great legs, a firm round tush, and was deliciously curved. I speculated on what she would look like out of her work attire.

I kept sneaking glances at her as we drove to her place, and she smiled sweetly at me. When I dropped her off in front of a brownstone house in an upscale district, she asked me if I thought it would take me a long time to cover the story.

"I doubt it, Molly. It is probably just a couple of pictures if they permit me to get close and the usual no comment attributions. The names of the officers on the scene, so they get a chance to see their names in print in tomorrow's paper, and that will be it."

"Give me a call when you finish and tell me all you can," she said, handing me a slip of paper with her phone number scribbled on it."

Much as I had expected, the scene was roped off and swarming with cops both uniformed and plain-clothed. I watched as they searched the beach for dismembered body parts. I almost passed out when not more than ten feet from where I stood, a cop suddenly threw up after yelling, "Here."

Thankfully, my camera was ready, and I could snap a picture of him pointing to the head of a decapitated woman. During the commotion that ensued, I quickly took the film out of my camera, pocketed it, and put in a fresh roll.

A grizzled police lieutenant came up to me and said, "Son, give me the film in your camera. We can't let that get out to the public."

"Lieutenant, I think you're right. That is just horrendous. Here you go," I said as I rewound the blank film in the camera and handed him the spool.

I knew that I would be having nightmares about what I had just seen, and there was no way I could ever publish that picture. After receiving my share of 'no comment' statements, I could attribute to various police luminaries on the scene, I got back in my car and thoughtfully began driving back.

I stopped at a phone booth and called Molly and told her what I had seen.

"Oh, Sam, how terrible. Are you OK?"

"Not really. I just can't erase those images from my mind."

"Do you wish to come over? Sometimes it helps to talk things out."

"I don't want to impose on you."

"Nonsense, I was about to cook supper. Come on over and grab a bite."

"How about I come over, but I'm across from Kelly's on Revere Beach, and I could pick us up a couple of their roast beef sandwiches."

"I see you know the path to a woman's heart."

"Is that all it takes, a roast beef sandwich?"

"No, silly. All it takes is relieving a woman from trying to cook and eat a solitary supper. Hurry."

Twenty minutes later, I was at the front door of her home. When she opened the door, I almost did not recognize Molly. Gone were the nondescript dress and ugly shoes she wore at work. She was wearing a pair of high waist denim shorts and a sleeveless white top. Her hair had been set free and was done up in an auburn ponytail that hung alluringly over one shoulder.

"HI, Sam. Come on in," she said as she ushered me into the kitchen. "We can sit in the breakfast nook to eat. My mouth has been watering at the thought of Kelly's roast beef sandwich. Did you get horseradish?"

"Of course, what's a roast beef sandwich without horseradish?"

"What can I get you to drink? The choices are rather sparse, I'm sorry to say. I have Polar Seltzer plain, black cherry, or raspberry lime."

"Well, you've made a boy from Western Mass very happy. My favorite beverage. I'll have the black cherry if that's not putting you out."

"Black cherry it is," she said as she bent in front of the fridge to get the can presenting to my eyes that incredible tush. I noticed she was barefoot, which I found incredibly sexy.

We munched away at our sandwiches, lost in thought. I don't know where Molly was, but I had a hard time erasing the vision of that poor decapitated woman.

Supper finished Molly invited me to sit with her in the living room. Seated at either end of a comfortable sofa, I watched as she folded her long legs under her and looked at me with a strange look on her face as if she was trying to make up her mind about something.

"Sam, can I trust you?" She finally said.

"I think so, Molly. What's up?"

"After what I am going to tell you, Sam, you might never want to have anything to do with me again."

When I opened my mouth, she shushed me. "Please just hear me out.

"Three years ago, I broke up with my husband, and he left me. Before he left, he cleaned out all our bank accounts and maxed out my credit cards. I was on the point of losing this house which I had inherited from my parents.

"Not wanting to see myself homeless, I resorted to plying the world's oldest profession. I became a streetwalker, a common whore.

"The money was rolling in, and I was not besieged with guilt by my new calling. I was scrupulously choosy and always took all possible precautions to not get hurt or catch any diseases.

"The first incident occurred where a girl was murdered and dismembered, and I shrugged it off thinking that something like that could not happen to me.

"One month later, I was patrolling my beat when a car pulled over, and I was propositioned by a man sitting in the car. It was a rainy night, and business had been slow, so I got in the car. No sooner had I taken a seat when a hood was thrown over my head, and my hands were bound. I never got a clear look at the man, but god, I can still hear his voice. He proceeded to tell me he was not interested in sex at all, just killing me.

"He drove for about fifteen minutes and stopped the car. He opened the door and dragged me out of the car and into what turned out to be an abandoned house.

"I must have passed out. When I regained consciousness, I was lying on what seemed to be a stinky mattress on the floor. I was still hooded, but my hands had been untied. I could hear the man talking to himself, but it seemed to come from another room. 

"With nothing to lose, I removed the hood saw that there was a window in the room. I crawled out and ran down the street. When I reached the next block, a police cruiser drove by, screeched to a stop, and two patrolmen came to me. Shivering with shame and fright, I told them what happened. They put me in the car, covered me with a blanket. After calling for backup, we returned to the house, which I pointed out to them.

"His car was gone, and after retrieving my clothes, they took me to the station to get my statement. There was not much I could tell them as I had not gotten a clear look at him, and as for the car, the only thing I could tell them about it was that it was black.

"From that point on, I have been living in fear. I'm terrified that that man might recognize me by accident and come back for me. I stopped streetwalking and got a job on the paper. And now here we are… me more than ever terrified and with you probably too disgusted to be with me."

With that, Molly started to sob uncontrollably. Her body language portrayed abject defeat.

I slid over to her and wrapped her in my arms in an attempt to comfort her. She lowered her head against my chest and cried her eyes out. Her body trembled uncontrollably while my heart ached at hearing her anguish.

Eventually, she was cried out and sat up. "Thank you, Sam. Thank you for sitting here with me. You can leave now."

"You want me to leave?"

"Not really, but I can't imagine you wanting to stay after hearing about my sordid past."

"Molly, it's not up to me to be your judge. You did what you had to do to survive. Plus, a woman who uses a vanilla shampoo in her hair can't be all bad."

"You're an idiot, Sam. A loveable idiot, but an idiot nonetheless."

She looked up at me with her big green eyes and tentatively raised her face to mine. When our lips touched, I felt as if my body was hit with a jolt of adrenaline. Her lips parted, and our tongues met and promptly engaged in an impromptu wrestling match.

We finally broke free from the kiss which had left us gasping for air. "Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

"You are the first woman I have kissed since my senior prom, Molly."

"No girlfriend?"

"No. I don't know any women in the city, and my work doesn't give me much time to socialize."

She stood up, took my hand, and led me to the bedroom. "Please sleep with me tonight, Sam. I don't want to be alone. Don't worry. I don't expect anything more than to be able to cuddle with you and fall asleep without going through my usual panic attack in the middle of the night. Just so you know, I have been celibate since I quit my so-called profession."

"Aren't you worried that I might take advantage of you?"

"Sam, dear Sam. Not only am I not worried. In reality, if you did, I might welcome it."

She proceeded to remove her top, displaying a magnificent pair of firm tits capped by huge nipples, and then shimmied out of her shorts before climbing into bed. She smiled at me and said, "Your turn, big guy."

Self-consciously I removed my shirt and lowered my trousers and underwear. I blushed beet red when Molly whistled. "Damn! Big guy was spot on. You have a magnificent cock. Now slide under the sheets and cuddle me."

The feel of her body against mine soon had my cock more erect than it had ever been. Molly turned her back to me, and I spooned her body. She took my hand and placed it on her breast. My cock nestled in the crack of her ass, and I could feel it exuding precum. When she wriggled her butt against me, I thought I would lose it and cum all over her.

She turned to face me and kissed me passionately. Her hand reached down and stroked my cock while we kissed and she rubbed it against her pussy lips. I could feel her warmth and wetness. "We don't need to do this if you don't want to," she said.

My answer was to roll her on her back, spread her thighs and place myself between them as I sank my cock into her hot, wet, welcoming pussy. As I was thrusting deeper and deeper into her, it hit me that this was not fucking. It was an act of love. She parted her lips and offered me her tongue, which made me even stiffer as I started to throb deep in her.

"Oh yes, Sam, that's so good. So good to be able to give my body to you."

I could feel the pressure build and asked her if I should come in her.

"Yes, darling, fill me with your seed."

Her moans became louder, and I felt my cock enveloped in her juices as she tightened her hold on it.

"Don't stop. Please don't stop. I'm going to cum," Molly yelled.

I felt her hot juices bathe my cock as she quivered in ecstasy. My cum shot out in copious quantity, soaking her vagina. She was so tight that I could feel our combined juices flowing out of her and bathing my testicles.

She reached up and pulled me down on her, gave me a sweet kiss, and nestled me in the crook of her shoulder. Soon she was making those cute sounds that women make as they fall asleep. I closed my eyes and wondered at the beauty of what had occurred as I fell asleep.

I woke up in the morning to an empty bed and the smell of coffee. I dressed and followed the aroma to the kitchen. Molly was at the counter dressed in panties and a man's shirt. I tip-toed behind her and cupped her breast, and nuzzled her neck. Again the smell of vanilla assailed my nose. She had already showered." Good morning, my Sam. I love the way you announce your presence. But damn it, you're already dressed. Well, that may be for the best."

"Why is that?"

"It would be effortless to get used to you, and I don't want to frighten you away."

"Molly, there is little chance of that."

"You mean that?"

"With all my heart."

Her eyes welled up with tears as she turned and kissed me. When we broke for air, she told me to sit down and served me a cup of coffee. She sat facing me with her coffee. "Sam, what are we going to do?"

"About us?"

"No about all those poor girls being murdered. What happens between you and me, we can sort out. The interesting thing that I have noticed is that it is not the real professional whores who are being killed. The ones he seems to kill are all poor girls like me who are forced by circumstances to do that kind of work. I can no longer live this way frightened by every shadow that crosses my path."

"Interesting observation. I'll go file my story and then see if I can interview the district attorney to see if I can get any further leads. This story has become very personal to me overnight."

"Can I go with you? It's my day off."

"I don't see why not," I told her with a grin. "Go get dressed, and we'll go kick a few tires and see what we can find out."

She returned in her frumpy dress, flat shoes, and hair put up in a bun. I realized just how much her outfit disguised her beauty.

We went to the paper where I filed my story and then dropped in on the DA's office. We spoke to a young assistant DA who seemed supremely uninterested even though he was assigned to the investigation. The only thing he suggested was that maybe we should talk to the coroner's office.

We stopped for a quick bite to eat and headed to the coroner's office location on Albany Street. We lucked out and met an affable gentleman who was the coroner who was in charge of the latest murder investigation.

He told us that he was only in charge of that one case as other coroners had control of previous cases. When I asked him why he informed us that it had to do with each discovered body's geographical location. This was the first one discovered on his turf. I told him that I found it strange as, in all probability, the murders did not take place at the location where the bodies were discovered. He took on a thoughtful look and suggested we go and ask at the morgue. He thought many of the corpses had been processed by the same morgue attendants.

The morgue was located across the street and was accessed by a long tunnel running under Albany. As we approached, we were almost overcome by the smell of formaldehyde. It was nasty, and I asked Molly if she wanted to return to the car and wait for me. She fought back her bile and stated she was in this to the end.

The attendant we spoke to wore a name badge identifying him as Jack Higgins. I identified myself, told him the purpose of our visit, and asked him if we could have a few minutes of his time.

"Sure, however, there's not much I can tell you. All I do is receive the body, try to piece it together, and get it boxed up."

"Have you handled many of the women who were hacked to pieces?" I asked.

"Almost all of them. As a matter of fact, I'm working on the one who got it last night, right over here on this gurney," he said, leading us to a body covered with a sheet. When he removed the sheet, I recognized the head of the woman I had seen last night.

Molly gasped, and her grip on my arm was tight enough to cut off my circulation.

Higgins noticed her and gave her a smile showing crooked yellow teeth. "Sure was a pretty one, wasn't she, Miss?" He said as he ogled Molly in a very nasty way. When I glanced at her, she was white as a ghost and almost trembling.

"Tell me, since you have seen several of the victims, did anything strike you about how they were killed?"

"The only thing I know is whoever killed them was very skillful. He really knew how to cut them apart." There was almost a note of pride in his voice as he said that.

"Let's go, Sam," Molly said, tugging at my arm.

I let her drag me till we were out into fresh air. "What's wrong, dear? The smell got to you?

"Sam, that's him. That's my abductor. I have been hearing his voice in my mind since that time."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure, as my name is Molly McGann."

"We can't go to the police with this. They'd just laugh at you. The police would not believe you could identify your attacker’s voice after all this time."

"I know it was him. I was terrified he would recognize me. But it makes sense. He cuts up bodies all day. That creep has the experience and access to the tools. He also helps with the autopsies and could conceal any evidence that might lead back to him."

"What can we do with this?"

"I don't know about the 'we' part. What I am going to do is go back to cruising the streets at night and wait for him to find me. This time I'll be carrying my father's service revolver."

"You want to know what will happen if you do that, Molly? You would be charged with murder. Yes, he might be dead, but you will end up in jail. We need proof."

"He picked me up a couple of blocks away, Sam. Right by the Boston Garden. I'll bet that's the route he takes when he leaves work. I'll go and hang out there, and you grab pictures with your trusty camera and follow us."

"How can you say that? How do you know he won't do anything in the car? And  what if he recognizes you and decides to kill you right then and there."

"Sam, I can no longer live this way. I have to do it."

"I'm terrified that he might hurt you, Molly. I can't imagine losing you now that I've come to really know you."

"Are you telling me you've fallen in love with me, Sam?" she asked with a smile.

"I don't know if it's love. But, I have never felt this way about a woman before."

"You are so sweet," she said, leaning over the console to kiss me.

"Take me home, Sam. I'm going to do this."

"When?"

"Tonight."

When we arrived at her place, Molly disappeared into the bedroom and told me to just sit on the sofa and wait. She was gone for an hour. When she came out, she was transformed. She had turned herself into a blonde. The shorts she was wearing must have been painted on. They seemed to be molded on her, revealing every inch of her body. Her cleavage was magnificently exposed. Black thigh-high boots completed her ensemble. She handed me an aerosol can, saying, "This is for you."

"What is it?"

"Pepper Spray. Just spray it at someone, and it will incapacitate them. "

Shouldn't you be carrying it?"

"I have my own," she said, opening her clasp bag and showed me an identical bottle.

"Molly, I'm terrified. What if something goes wrong?"

"What can go wrong? I have my brave warrior now who will defend me. Sam, I can't live the way I have been. You are the one who is giving me the courage to go through with this. Now let's get the show on the road."

She sat next to me in the car, white-faced and trembling. I took her hand, and she gripped it tightly in hers. I felt my own fear and tried to hide it as best I could.

"I'll be OK, Sam. I trust you," she said, giving me a soft kiss on the cheek before getting out on the sidewalk about a block from the Garden.

I sat in the car watching her walk about thirty yards further down the street and lean against a lamp post. I watched without moving my eyes from her as several vehicles stopped.  The windows rolled down to have an exchange of words with Molly before driving off.

Traffic was easing off as the rush hour started to wane. I was about to pick her up, thinking that we would fail today when a black Ford sedan stopped next to her. After an exchange of words, Molly glanced back at me and gave me a barely perceptible nod, trotted around to the passenger door, and got in the car. I snapped a few pictures of the incident, ensuring that I recorded the plate number and Molly getting into the car.

I saw her head clearly through the back window as she sat down, then her head disappeared from view, and the car started off. I followed, trembling with fear as the car headed for the Callahan tunnel and out past the airport.

Traffic was light, and I managed to stay about 150 feet behind him as he took the Lynnway. I saw him slow down, and without any warning, he turned off past a warehouse and onto a side street. Terrified that I had lost him, I followed after first turning off my headlights. The road was deserted and lined with a row of run-down houses but no sign of his car. As I was driving by, I saw the car parked on a driveway next to a home. The interior lights came on in the car, and Jack Higgins walked around the car, opened the passenger door, lifted Molly in a fireman's carry, and walked into the house.

My heart almost stopped as I could see no sign of life from her. Thank god it was dark, and he had not spotted me as I drove past. I stopped in front of the next house and ran back. There were no lights on in the place. I looked for a way to enter when light appeared in one of the small basement windows. I crouched down and saw him throw Molly on a table. She was hooded, and her hands were tied up.

As I watched, he removed the hood and untied her hands. She struggled. However, he was too strong for her as Molly valiantly tried to kick him, but before she connected, he tied her legs as he had tied her arms.

I could see she was screaming and crying as he gloated over her. The next thing I noticed was Higgins turn away and start to go up the steps.

I rushed to the house's side door and tried the knob, but the door was locked. I hammered on the door and rang the doorbell. His voice came through the thick door, "Who's there?"

"My car broke down, May I use your phone?"

"Who are you? Go away," he said as he cracked open the door.

My shoulder slammed in the door, and it flew open. Higgins fell to the floor from the impact as I jumped in and kicked him squarely in the balls in my rage. The pepper spray hit his face, and he yelled in agony. As I continued to kick the asshole. He cowered on the floor while I kept punching his face until he was lying unconscious in the entryway.

I tied him up and rushed down the basement stairs to find Molly. She was screaming her head off, and when she saw me, she started crying. I snapped a quick picture of her tied up before I untied her and held her in my arms till she quieted down. "What took you so long?" She inquired with her mascara running in streaks down her face.

She was trembling in my arms. I looked around and saw the various torture instruments Higgins had prepared. Saws, pliers, chisels littered a nearby table, and I went into a cold sweat imagining him using them on Molly. I shielded her sight with my body and took her upstairs.

Jack was lying on the floor where I had left him, still trussed up but in obvious pain. He had regained consciousness, and he cursed and swore at us. Molly stood over him and spat on him before grinding her boot into his crotch. "I should go down and get that saw you were going to use on me and cut off your schlong. You miserable excuse of a man."

I found my phone and called the cops telling them briefly what had gone down. Within minutes squad cars started arriving, and the grizzled lieutenant I had met last night was examining the scene and the basement.

We were escorted to the station by a squad car and gave statements as to what had occurred. I gave the lieutenant the film I had taken of Molly getting into the car, and the picture I had snapped of Molly tied down, and the torture implements around the basement.

"I hope this one is not blank," he growled at me.

"Sorry. I was just doing my job. I have a favor to ask you, however."

"What's that?"

"There are shots of Molly lying tied up on that table. I'd rather they were not circulated."

"Don't worry. I understand. I have a daughter Molly's age, and I wouldn't like to see her picture passed around either. I'll show the picture to the DA. I have no choice but I will ask him not to use it. I don't think it will be necessary with the amount of forensic evidence that should be found."

"Thank you," Molly said to him with a smile. "When can we go?"

"You can leave when you're ready. You were both very foolish and very brave to have done what you did. Try to forget about this. It is finished and done."

We left arm in arm and returned to my car.

"Sam, my hero, what do you want to do now?"

"I have a completely insane idea, Molly. We are just five minutes away from Kelly's Roast Beef. Why don't we swing by, pick up a couple of sandwiches and go to your place and recreate last night."