Chapter Forty Six
Captain Ivan Lenin, no relationship to a famous Russian serial murderer who fortunately had never visited Las Vegas, stood behind a wooden podium staring at the various plain clothes and uniformed cops of the “Head Lopper Taskforce”.
The N. Las Vegas Police Dept. was wasted, exhausted and their thin blue line that kept the vermin that flocked to Vegas like maggots dug into blood, was buckling, yet somehow still functioning. He was exhausted, as career cops tend to be and he hoped his team of police officers would catch the killer before the press got wind of the nickname they had given the case.
The last thing he needed in a city that was hanging on by its violent fingernails was the press yelling at him and newspapers screaming headlines about his inadequacies catchin
