Black Blood, Trace the Family Tree, a Jamaican story worth its weight in gold.

Commissioner Watkins, AKA, “Shaky” Watkins, was the top cop of the jamaica constabulary force. At the endpoint of his illustrious career, a series of never before seen types of crimes started flaring up on the then rapidly developing Jamaican landscape, the commissioner wanted nothing more than to crack the case before he demits office, would he? One way to find out.


Black blood is a futuristic story depicting a

close up look at the life and times of a fictitious Jamaican police commissioner – Commissioner Watkins, and his many encounters with the count – count Lasco: a trans-continental drug lord and wanna-be Jamaican king-pin.

The world was on a comeback trail after "the conflict" had passed and the countries and peoples which were affected by it was starting to reinvent themselves. While many of those Nation’s Stars were still falling in the aftermath of the conflict, other nation’s stars were rising at meteoric speed. One such fast-rising country at the time was the tiny island of Jamaica W. I. In the Caribbean regions.


are lots of what you want to see, hear, and feel in this book, we spared none of the gory details, lots of blood, thrills, spills, dark humor, and anecdotes. So, grab some comfort food, pull your feet up, get comfortable and let's go back to the future, again.  Listen to it on the podcast.

Note: Black blood is a work of fiction. The names and characters depicted in this story are fictitious and not to be construed as real, or be associated with any person, living or dead.  This is a copyright-protected work. All rights reserved. Now, here is chapter one of The Book.

There was blood everywhere. Sergeant Kennedy was tip-toeing across the pavement trying his earnest best to avoid disturbing the scenes. He Bent down and examine what turned out to be a spiffs-tail. "Rogers!" he called out to the young corporal, "bag it," he said.

Corporal Vince Rogers being new to the service, had only been on active duty for five days, however, he already felt as if he has seen enough blood and gory mess to last him a lifetime. He fetched a receptacle from the kit and placed the saggy bit of would-be evidence inside of it, then, he replaced the cap and set it aside.

Vince by then was sick to his stomach and was beginning to question his career choice. All of a sudden, the pulpit seemed mighty appealing to him. And his mother seemed like the wisest woman who had ever lived.  She had it all planned out.

From the time he was a little boy, his mother wanted him, or maybe it was "The Lord" as she always said in regards to this – it was the Lord who had called him to be a minister of the Gospel. But Vince was quite sure that the Lord would have made a big mistake on that call.

And as for the role-model whom she always pointed him towards, in the person of the Reverend Richard Bultzer. If she was really serious about her son becoming a minister of the Gospel? That would have been a mistake of Titanic proportion on her part too, to be pointing her son towards the Reverend Mr. Richie Bultzer.

Vince's thoughts of him were never very flattering, to say the least. He thought of the Rev. as being nothing more than a lazy, heartless, bloodsucking piggy-backing leech, who "preys" on those silly women with low or no self-esteem. "I'm not a sissy," he had said to his mother, “I will go out and get myself a real job and earn my keeps as real men do.”

So, instead of registering for Bible School, as she had wanted him to, the police academy was to be the benefactor of Vince's coming of age and his search for adventure.

If one will take a moment though, to examine the facts concerning people like the Reverend Mr. Bultzer, one may well be on the verge of a healthy dose of get-with-it reality broadside, Vince was to have argued on this wise. ……

Sergeant Adam Kennedy and Fenton "fats" Michaud were partners in the early days, they were really good friends too, but Fenton had died way before his time, and the sergeant had gotten himself a promising young constable (or so it seemed) as his working partner.

Sergeant Michaud was a very funny man among other things. He weighed in at over 320lbs but very fast was he, and as agile as a Tomcat on steroids too. He will outrun Usain Bolt on the Sunday morning after a raving hot Saturday night party, out on the town.

Fats was implicated in an earlier shooting incident where he was said to have used excessive force to bring down a shooting suspect, a man who was clearly running away from him at the time.

Folks said that the only advantage the poor guy had on fats was his size and he did use it to squeeze his way through tiny holes and crevices such as those which the sergeant could not go through due to the fat facts, all in his getaway bid, "I've got something for you" said fats, before he lit him up bright with a barrage of bullets and spewing red blood, well, so the story goes, but.

He wasn't going to lose that one, not again. Fats died at his desk the official reports said, but we all do know very well where officials and their reports stand on the truth, as well as on the trust and confidence index in the mind of the common people.

Folks said the goodly sergeant died trying to climb up mount Galimore, on a bunk bed at the office. It was to take two of their strongest young men to pry him off of the frightened Gali-mountain… may he forever, rest in peace, as he very well might. ……

Meanwhile, Sadie dance. Silhouettes of dancing Sadie was to float down from the window and over the shoulders of investigators and curious onlookers alike. Her relationship with the deceased family needed to be examined, Commissioner Watkins thought to himself. And he was going to do just that, that was for sure.

The commissioner had been the first to arrive on the scene after the call. He didn't stay very long though, just walked around the peripheries of the compound and assigned roles to the next in command. On his way out, He cast his eyes up at the third-floor apartment and saw Sadie standing there in the window, bracing against her stretched out arms against the window sill, and looking down at the happenings.

Commissioner Watkins paused just long enough to survey the settings before moving along, shaking his head in the usual “shaky Watkins" manner. Sergeant Kennedy and the team then went to work gathering evidence.

Crime scene Analysis: these were what the forensic team was to have found and documented at the crime scene:

  • Two dead bodies, 
  • One bloody machete,
  • A bloody kitchen knife
  • A wet and saggy spiffs-tail
  • And a trail of blood leading from the living room to the front lawn where one of the two bodies was found.

The trail of blood leads out through the front door, down the steps, and out onto the paved driveway where the second body was found lying face down on the pavement.

Just beyond the cordoned-off area, curious onlookers and tight-lipped neighbors alike, now stretching their necks to sneak a peek across the fence, many among them were probably the same ones who did not even bother to respond to cries for help in the night, now they are out seeking a thrill though.

All of that, plus a senior cop obviously perplexed beyond the norms at what he was seeing. Add in also, those newspaper reports and thesis which was to be coming in, and later on. Dancing Sadie was to be called in for questioning and then released, the deceases' lifestyle came in for scrutiny. The verdict was left hanging, for the time being. ……

While Sergeant Kennedy was skimming through the various crime scenes all over town, the commissioner was thinking, planning and strategizing.

He was also sharing anecdotes with his family back at home. He always does. He would then need to review all of the incidents in detail in order to see if there were patterns. Any link and tie-ins that could connect one to the other would come in handy.

He would later find the connections but there was much work to be done before that was to come about, and the clock was ticking the time away.

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