Rodel Marquez

As the words left Manny's lips, the air in the small, cluttered living room seemed to grow heavy, weighted with the burden of a tragic past. Jane leaned forward, her amber eyes intense, her voice low and urgent.

"Manny, please. Anything you can tell us about Rodel, anything at all... it could be vital. We need to understand him, to get inside his head if we're going to have any chance of stopping him."

The old Filipino man sighed, his shoulders slumping as if under a great weight. He nodded slowly, his gaze distant, lost in the mists of memory.

"Rodel... he was a good man, once. A decent man. When he first came to Straton, oh, it must have been twenty years ago now, he was so full of life, of hope. He had his wife, Mara, and their little boy, Kris. They were a beautiful family."

Manny's eyes took on a wistful cast, a faint smile touching his weathered face. "Rodel, he threw himself into life here. He worked hard, two, sometimes three jobs, to provide for his family. And when he found his way to my dojo, it was like... like he'd found a piece of himself he didn't know was missing."

He shook his head, wonder and sorrow mingling in his expression. "Kali Arnis, it spoke to him. He had a natural gift, a grace and power that was breathtaking to behold. I've never had a student quite like him, before or since."

Jane nodded, her pen flying across her notebook as she jotted down every detail. "And outside of the dojo? What was he like?"

"Quiet," Manny said after a moment's consideration. "Intensely private. He didn't socialize much, kept to himself and his family. But he was always polite, always respectful. A model student, a model citizen."

His face darkened then, a shadow passing over his features. "Until the accident."

Jane's pen stilled. "The accident," she repeated softly. "What happened, Manny?"

The old man closed his eyes, as if the memory itself was too painful to face. "It was... God, it must have been eight years ago now. Rodel and Kris, they were out for a ride on Rodel's motorcycle. It was a beautiful day, sun shining, not a cloud in the sky."

He took a shuddering breath, his hands clenching into fists. "They were waiting at a stoplight. Kris was in front, Rodel's arms around him. They were laughing, joking around. And then..."

Manny's voice broke, a single tear tracing its way down his lined cheek. "A woman, drunk off her ass, came barreling through the intersection on a scooter. She hit them head-on. Sent them flying."

Jane felt her heart clench, a sick feeling twisting in her gut. "My God," she whispered.

Manny nodded, his face a mask of grief. "It was bad. Really bad. When the EMTs arrived, they... they had to make a choice. Rodel, he was in rough shape, but he was stable. Kris though..."

He trailed off, shaking his head. "They worked on the boy first. Tried everything they could. But in the end, he was just too far gone. They couldn't save him."

Jane closed her eyes, a wave of sorrow washing over her. The loss of a child... she couldn't begin to imagine that kind of pain.

"What about Rodel?" she asked softly. "What were his injuries?"

Manny sighed, the sound heavy with remembered horror. "He lost his right leg, crushed beyond repair. And his face... his jaw was shattered, his teeth knocked out or broken. He needed extensive reconstructive surgery, and even then... he was never the same."

Jane nodded, pieces of the puzzle falling into place with sickening clarity. The distinctive click of the killer's misshapen teeth, the glint of a prosthetic leg under the harsh glare of the streetlights...

"And Mara?" she asked, almost dreading the answer. "How did she handle all of this?"

A look of profound sadness crossed Manny's face. "At first, she was there for him. By his side every step of the way. But as the months wore on, as Rodel sank deeper into despair, into anger... it took its toll."

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze unfocused, seeing into a painful past. "The drinking started not long after he came home from the hospital. He was in constant pain, physical and emotional. The alcohol... it numbed that, for a while."

Jane made a note, her heart heavy. Substance abuse was all too common in the wake of such profound trauma.

"But it wasn't just the drinking," Manny continued, his voice tight. "The accident, the surgeries... they left Rodel unable to... to perform, sexually."

He shifted uncomfortably, clearly uneasy with the intimate detail. "He became convinced that Mara was going to leave him, that she couldn't possibly love a man who was... incomplete."

Jane's brow furrowed. "And did she? Leave him?"

Manny nodded, a single, sharp jerk of his head. "About a year after the accident. She filed for divorce, citing Rodel's alcoholism and increasingly erratic behavior. He... he didn't take it well."

"I can imagine," Jane murmured, her mind whirling. A man who had lost everything - his child, his body, his wife... it was a recipe for a complete psychological break.

"The divorce, it got ugly," Manny said, his expression pained. "Mara, she had the support of some powerful women's groups, feminist organizations. They helped her get a good lawyer, helped her build a case."

He shook his head, a hint of old anger sparking in his eyes. "In the end, she got more than half of everything. The savings, the house... she took it all. And the courts, they sided with her every step of the way."

Jane made another note, a sick certainty settling in her gut. A man like Rodel, broken and emasculated, watching as his wife was empowered by the very system he felt had failed him... it was a twisted kind of psychological torture.

"And the prosthetic?" she asked, remembering the glint of metal, the awkward hitch in the killer's gait. "How did he afford that, after the divorce?"

Manny's face twisted in disgust. "He didn't. After Mara cleaned him out, he was destitute. Living on the streets, drinking himself into oblivion. And that's when this...woman found him."

Jane leaned forward, her eyebrows raised. "A woman?"

"A so-called doctor," Manny spat, the words laced with contempt. "She promised him a new leg, a new life. Said she could do it cheap, off the books. Rodel, in his desperation, he believed her."

He spread his hands, a gesture of futility. "Of course, it was a scam. She took what little money he had left and disappeared. Left him with a shoddy, ill-fitting prosthetic and even more reason to hate the world."

Jane sat back, her mind reeling. The picture that was emerging was one of a man systematically broken down, every support system, every lifeline ripped away until all that was left was a seething core of rage and resentment.

"When was the last time you saw him?" she asked, dreading the answer.

Manny sighed, his eyes haunted. "It was about six months after the divorce was finalized. He showed up at the dojo, drunk out of his mind. Ranting and raving about how everyone had betrayed him, abandoned him."

He swallowed hard, his voice shaking. "He kept going on about the EMTs, how they had let Kris die to save him. Cursing his wife, the courts, the women's groups who had supported her. I tried to calm him down, tried to reason with him. But it was like... like he wasn't even there anymore. Like something had broken inside of him, something fundamental."

Manny looked up, meeting Jane's gaze with an expression of profound sorrow. "I had to call the police, had to have him removed from the dojo. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. But he was scaring the other students, and I couldn't risk... I couldn't let him..."

He trailed off, shaking his head. "I never saw him again after that. He just... disappeared. I tried to find him, tried to help. But it was like he had vanished into thin air."

Jane let out a slow breath, the weight of Manny's words settling over her like a shroud. It was a tragic story, a tale of a life systematically dismantled by a cruel twist of fate.

But it was also a chilling insight into the mind of a killer. A man who had lost everything, who had been driven to the brink of madness by his own pain and perceived betrayals.

A man who now saw women, saw the very institutions meant to protect and serve, as the enemy.

It didn't excuse his actions, didn't lessen the horror of what he had done. But it gave them a starting point, a framework for understanding.

And in the twisted game they now found themselves in, that understanding could be the difference between life and death.

Jane stood, reaching out to shake Manny's hand. "Thank you," she said sincerely, her voice rough with emotion. "I know this couldn't have been easy for you. But what you've told us... it could be the key to stopping him before he hurts anyone else."

Manny nodded, his grip firm despite the tremor in his hands. "I hope so, Detective. I truly hope so. Rodel... the man he was, the student I knew... he's still in there somewhere. Buried under all that pain, all that anger. If you can find him, if you can reach him..."

He trailed off, a single tear slipping down his cheek. 

Jane felt her throat tighten, a swell of emotion rising in her chest. She couldn't make that promise, couldn't guarantee that Rodel Marquez's story would end in anything other than tragedy.

But she could promise to try. To do everything in her power to end this nightmare, to bring peace to the families he had shattered.

And to perhaps, in some small way, bring a measure of peace to Rodel himself.

It was a heavy burden, a daunting task. But as she strode out of Manny's house, her head held high, her resolve steeled, Jane knew it was a challenge she had to meet.

For Sarah. For Leah. For Dr. Reeves.

For every woman who had ever been victimized, ever been made to feel powerless in the face of a man's rage.

She climbed into her car, her hands tight on the steering wheel.

It was time to end this.

Time to bring Rodel Marquez to justice, one way or another.

She just prayed that when the time came, when she stood face to face with the man behind the mask...

She would have the strength to do what needed to be done.

No matter the cost.