I sigh and look out.
Nickoi’s sitting on the back of his Benz, smoking.
OMNISCIENT
Mario glances at his watch. Eight o’clock and still no real progress on either the Constant Spring or Spanish Town murders. But deep down, he knows it’s the same killer. The patterns line up.
The sketch artist got something decent. Not perfect, but close. Mario’s been chasing shadows for weeks now. He won’t sleep until he closes this case.
An hour into the files and his gut kicks in. He slides the Constant Spring folder aside and pulls the Spanish Town one closer.
He calls it the “2 a.m. route.”
He searches for Adonis’ family contact and gets lucky, his brother, Dane, picks up.
“Good night. This is Detective Mario,” he says, voice low and firm.
“Good night, Detective. What yuh want know ‘bout mi bredda Adonis?”
Dane sounds tired, but determined.
Mario leans back, lips curling into a slight grin. “Is there anything you think could help the case?”
“Yeah, Adonis was a Don from Flanka. Nobody nuh ramp wid him. So whoever kill him? Affi be a top killa,” Dane says. Mario thinks of the man in the black hoodie, the one that always slips through the cracks.
“Whenever a Don dead, it’s usually gang retaliation. You agree?” Mario asks.
His wife enters the room quietly and sits nearby, scrolling through Fashion Nova, not saying a word.
“Yeah, mi know. Adonis had enemies. But this happen a town, so it have to be somebody up deh. Plus him have a nephew weh live a town, full a money, and mi not even know wah him do fi a living.”
Now that grabs Mario’s attention.
He leans forward. “Tell me about the nephew. Slim build? Always in black hoodies?”
Dane scratches his head. “Mi nuh know him like dat. Mi not even sure how him look.”
Mario exhales. “Did Adonis and him have beef?”
“Not really… but dem never too talk. The nephew deh a town mostly. But—” Dane pauses.
“But what?” Mario presses. “You love your brother, right? Don’t hold back.”
“Adonis did wah piece a him business. Dem come down fi a funeral and… Adonis did shoot offa dem. Dem never dead. Dem go back a town and somebody kill Adonis after him say him ago link him sister. Mi nuh think a dem though, it just nuh make nuh sense.”
“But what if the nephew knew he was coming? What if he planned it?” Mario says, narrowing his eyes.
Dane pauses. He remembers calling the girlfriend’s phone that night to distract her.
Mario picks up on the hesitation. “What’s his name?”
Dane sighs. “Nickoi Jacobs.”
Mario writes it down fast. His wife coughs softly, then rubs her hand like she’s nervous.
“What exactly does he have, that make yuh call him rich?”
“Big house in some uptown scheme. Benz, Porsche, Range Rover—everything,” Dane says.
