Tag: serialized novel

Where is the Evidence

Captain Jamison, nicknamed ‘Grizzly’ because of his gruff manner, was an imposing man, both physically and metaphorically. He had to be. Growing up in Detroit was tough in the sixties, and for decades after the 1967 riots, anyone who wanted to be somebody had to fight for a place to thrive. He was one of the lucky ones. His father had owned a profitable business in Black Bottom. He was used to community support, and in all his time as a street cop, he never forgot that support. He returned it to his community then, and now to his officers, but still his mannerisms intimidated most of them. Not Maureen Thompson, she had fought her way to the top as well, and loved him as one loves a dear, favorite uncle who has led the way to success.

She knocked on his door before she opened it.

“Come in,” he growled.

He sat slumped over a stack of reports on his desk, disheveled and pale, as if he held the world upon his shoulders, and as such, it was a fight he couldn’t win.

“You okay, Cap?” she said.

He sat up and attempted to smile at her. “Fine. Just fine.”

He could say that, but she was under no obligation to believe him.

Jack stepped into the office after her. Jamison placed both hands on his desk as if by doing so he could gather strength from it. He sighed and said, “What do you two want?”

“We wanted to talk to you about the cases we are working on,” said Maureen.

“I’ve just finished your reports. What I want to know,” he glared at Jack, “is why I have a report from an officer who is supposed to be on medical leave.”

Maureen said, “My fault. I called him last night. Got a call while on scene at a murder.”

“This one.” He picked up a file. “Says here, there was a body dump at the river.”

“That’s where the evidence points. A Taiwanese boy, between the ages of fifteen and eighteen, maybe nineteen, stabbed and left there for us to find. While there, I received a second call about another boy. He didn’t make it home last night.”

Jack spoke. “Evan Fischer, nineteen. He’s been missing nearly twenty hours now.”

“I called Jack because I was working with rookies last night, Cap. Didn’t want to send them on a missing child case.”

“Why do I get the feeling you two think these cases are connected?”

Jack looked at Maureen. She took a deep breath when she caught his eye, and said, “Well, we have two witnesses down the hall that seem suspiciously connected to both of them. One is a cashier from the same Walgreens where Evan Fischer works. I pulled her in because she lied about picking up a prescription for Percocet for the boy. It’s a heavy painkiller. It suggests that Jack’s suspicion that he’s been in a fight is correct.”

“That weird second sight thing?”

“Yes,” said Jack.

“But no direct visual evidence.”

“None, Sir,” said Jack. He added, “The second witness is the manager for that same Walgreens.”

“What’s his story?” said Jamison, rubbing his jaw.

“He recognizes the tattoos on Maureen’s Taiwanese boy.”

“He told you that?” said Jamison.

“No, but it is very obvious he recognizes the tats.”

“So this manager knows both Evan Fischer, who you believe has injuries, and the dead Taiwanese boy, who also, according to these photos, was in quite a fight. And in your minds, without any evidence to corroborate this collaboration, these two cases are linked because….” Captain Jamison pursed his lips.

Jack stuttered, “J-j-just let us continue.”

Jamison waved him on.

“During my interview with Heathe, he confirmed a tip that Maureen got from him earlier in the day when she interviewed him at the store. Evan has a girlfriend named Bree. Coincidentally, a girl named Sobrina Morelli –.”

“Let me interrupt you. The Morelli gang?”

“Not confirmed, but possible. She quit Walgreens before Christmas, which is why Evan now has a full time position there. The manager says she was pregnant and looked beat up, but he wouldn’t confirm it. Says she might have fallen.”

“Which is it, beat up or injured falling?” said Jamison.

Maureen said, “We have yet to confirm, Sir.”

“Seems that a lot still needs to be confirmed. Well, Balmario’s team has been following the Morellis. His report says there was a possible retaliatory event last night that may have included one or two of their members. Did either of your witnesses bring that up?”

Maureen said, “No.”

“How long have they been in the hold?” said Jamison.

Jack said, “Almost two hours now.”

“Hold the cashier for obstruction.”

Maureen said, “Captain, I’d like to release her and put a tail on her. If Evan Fischer is really the one taking the Percocet, she may lead us back to him.”

“Done. We have three undercovers on the street. I will let them know.”

“Thank you.”

“I think we can put some pressure on Heathe, the other witness, Sir,” said Jack.

Jamison stared at Jack, waiting for him to continue.

“He frequently makes purchases to indulge in, in the back offices of Walgreens.” Jack made a semi-obscene pumping gesture with his hand.

Jamison scowled. “He told you this?”

Maureen said, “No, Emilia Rodriguez, the cashier, indicated as much.”

“That’s hearsay,” said Jamison.

Jack said, “Yes, but she says everyone knows. We can corroborate.”

Jamison looked at Jack, but pointed to Maureen. “She can corroborate. You can take advantage of your sick leave. You’re outta here.”

“Sir,” said Jack, squirming. “I’m just trying to help.”

“And I appreciate it, but I need you at your best. If you are seeing this with your mojo, I need your head clear, and your partner, bless his heart, is not in any shape to be helping you with this. Take care of him first.”

Maureen looked at Jack and shrugged her shoulders.

Jamison told her, “Let the cashier go, but put the fear of God into her. Hold Heathe. Let Vice work him. If they can prove his indiscretions, we can hold him; otherwise, we have to let him go. In the meantime maybe someone should find Sobrina Morelli.”

“Yes Captain. We’ll get right on it,” said Maureen.

“You’ll get right on it. He’s outta here.”

As Jack stood to leave, someone knocked on Captain Jamison’s door.

“What now,” he said. “Come in.”

An officer from Dispatch stepped into the office waving a piece of paper. “Just in, a BOLO from the FBI in Stockton, California, CARD division.” CARD was an acronym for Child Abduction Rapid Deployment. He handed it to Jamison.

“Wonderful,” Jamison said, sarcastically. “We have another missing boy. Have either of you seen this one?” He showed them the picture.

Jack fell into his chair. Maureen grabbed his forearm and took the flyer. “Yes, Captain. This is one of our own. Jonathan Tyler is Jack’s son.”

Captain looked at Jack with a laser-focused stare that pinned him to the chair. “Your plate is full. Get outta here.”

“Yessir,” said Jack who attempted to stand. It was clear he was in shock. Maureen held onto his arm as he shuffled toward the door.

“Get him out of here, and don’t let him come back,” said Jamison.

“Got it,” said Maureen as she hauled Jack out the door.

He leaned against the outer wall.

“You okay?” said Maureen.

He scrubbed his face and then grabbed his hair. “Gotta see Tomi,” he said.

“Go, Jack. Get out of here. We’ll find your boy, Jack. You know we will.”

She clapped him on the shoulder and left him glued to the wall where he stood, trying to regain some strength to move again.

She couldn’t imagine what Jack was feeling right now. All she could see was her own little one, waving goodbye this morning at the window. She would do everything in her power to save her little Michael from such a fate.

She had no doubt that Jack would do the same. 

Missing Boy

Standing in the middle of Evan Fischer’s bedroom, Jackson Tyler spoke softly into the recorder in his phone. “Either these sheets are brand new, or Evan doesn’t sleep here every night.” The bed was unmade, as he expected. What he did not expect was the absent traces of sweat and other teen aged boy emissions.

He dusted the bedside table and the lamp switch. There was one good print on the edge next to the bed. He pulled it. He opened the drawer. Inside was a half pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He stood up and sniffed the air. The room didn’t smell like stale smoke. He walked to the closet and smelled the clothes hanging there. They smelled fresh.

He lifted a dirty shirt off the floor. It smelled like boy, but not cigarettes. A teddy bear stuffed into a corner of the room under the window didn’t smell of smoke either. Whose cigarettes were these?

He looked out the only window at a featureless brick wall. It was  not screened. A nimble young man could sit on the wide ledge and drag a cigarette, but the sill was free of ash stain. He leaned out the window. The alleyway below was clear of smoker trash, although he supposed he wouldn’t see ash from two stories up. Evan Fischer didn’t smoke here if they were his.

He dusted the window’s sill and the latch on the window frame.

His phone buzzed. “Tyler.”

“It’s Maureen. Where are you?”

The flash of a match or lighter caught his eye. Was someone watching the window?

“Tyler, you there?”

“Yeah, sorry Maureen. Still at the Fischer apartment.” Whoever was at the end of the alley had moved away. Maybe someone had paused to light up.

“How long?”

“What?

“How long will you be there? I want to meet up to share notes.”

“I’m pulling prints from a window in the kid’s bedroom. Maybe ten minutes by the time I explain a BOLO to the grandmother.”

“Okay. I’m at the Ninth. Meet me there?”

“Got it.”

“Okay, out.” Maureen hung up.

Maureen’s voice sounded as tired as he felt. At some point, he would have to get some sleep before he sat with Tomi.

He pulled the prints and walked back to the small living room. Grandma Fischer was quietly sitting in her chair, reading from her Bible. When Jack stepped into the room, she shut the Book, set it on the oval table next to her, and looked at him expectantly.

Jack held up the bag with the cigarette pack and lighter. “Ms. Fischer, are these your grandson’s?”

“I’ve never seen those. He doesn’t smoke.”

“Do any of his friends?”

“I don’t know. I guess one of them could have left those here.”

Jack put the bag into the evidence kit attached to his belt. “I am going to initiate a BOLO. That means we will ask all of our officers to be looking for Evan.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I thought for sure you were going to tell me I had to wait twenty-four hours.”

“No.” He smiled. “That is never the case in real life. We always take a missing person’s report very seriously. I will call you to keep you informed about our investigation.”

“Thank you so much,” said Claudine Fischer.

Jack handed her his card. “Call if you think of anything else, no matter how trivial. Call the second he comes back, no matter the time.”

“You think he will? You think Evan will come home?”

“I’m hoping he lost track of time, overslept at a friend’s house, and will show up at work. He’ll be begging for forgiveness over dinner.”

“The Lord says we should all forgive each other.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

 

In the basement of the Ninth, Jack stood next to Maureen and stared at the body on the cold metal table. The coroner had confirmed that they were looking at a Taiwanese national, probably transported specifically to fight. These particular boys had the reputation of being fierce and unbeatable. They were worth a lot of money on the market. If the build on this one was an indication of his prowess, someone had lost a fortune.

The bright light above him outlined each bruise that littered his torso, arms, and legs. His colorful injuries on his battle-crushed face were surreal, almost fluid, like the melting watches in a Salvador Dali painting.

As he calculated the type of strike it would take to create the particularly nasty bruise on his right cheek, a wave of dizziness hit Jack as a vision obliterated reality. Another boy’s face superimposed over the disfigured face at which he was staring. A sweet face, asleep on a pillow…

…dark colored, softly curled hair. Evan. His face looked as battle scarred as the young Taiwanese on the slab.

Jack couldn’t breathe. Maureen was instantly by his side, rubbing his back. “Blow it out, Jack. Just blow and relax.” She rubbed harder.

Jack understood her orders, but he had trouble making his body comply. He pursed his lips and blew. Suddenly he gasped, inhaled a gallon of air, and bent over, panting.

“For Heaven’s sake, you’re not going to throw up, are you?” said Maureen.

“Oh, my god,” he mumbled. “No.”

“Then what happened?”

“I think Evan’s been fighting.”

“A vision?” she said.

Jack shook his head. “Maybe I am tired and projecting my fears. I saw a boy, Evan’s face, uhn.”

Maureen patted his back. “Just breathe. Is this what Tomi deals with?”

“Unfortunately,” said Jack, grimacing. Through whose eyes was he seeing this? “If I am tripping out again, and actually seeing Evan, he was asleep, not dead.”

“Thank God,” said Maureen.

“It’s not usually God I attribute this to,” Jack mumbled. He shook his arms. “It feels like my arms and legs weigh a thousand pounds each. I am so tired.” He stretched his eyes open, trying to make sense of the multi-sensory vision.

Maureen turned to the tech. “I think we’re done here for now.”

He nodded and covered the body.

To Jack she said, “Let’s grab something from the vending machine and find a place to talk a few minutes.”

 

Maureen and Jack sat at a small table in the break room.

Jack said, “One more thing before we wrap this up. It may be related, it may not, but a group of street kids was creating a ruckus in front of the building when I arrived. The tenants were yelling at them to shut up and go home. They may have been practicing mixed martial arts. I counted five boys, three girls. Kind of hoped the missing kid was one of them, but that was before I talked to Ms. Fischer. When they saw me, they all ran, except for a bear of a kid named Phillip. Calls himself “Rat Snatcher.”

Maureen huffed. “Rat Snatcher. Sounds obscene.”

“Yeah.” Jack chuckled.

“You think we should check into him?”

“I do.”

“I’ll contact Balmario.”

“He’s back to work so soon?”

“Same as you. As needed. What are your plans for today?”

“Sleep, for one thing. I want to sit with Tom for a while.”

She said, “I need some sleep. Need to make amends with Larry.”

“Geez. That’s so hard,” said Jack, thinking about how his work affected his marriage that dissolved so long ago. “I think I should follow up at the Walgreens where Evan Fischer works. They may know more about his social life than his grandmother does.”

“Fair enough. Let’s call it quits for tonight,” said Maureen.

“Excellent. I’ll check in tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”

He rapped his knuckles on the table twice as he stood. “Goodnight, Maureen.” Then he turned and strode out the door.