Looking Back at the Present

Staring at the chalk outline wasn’t getting me anywhere. Three homicides in the same month. If this was linked to the others earlier this year, he was picking up in my district. She was thirty-two. Blonde but had a brown wig on. Probably what made her the target. Night walker by the way she was dressed and whatever clown college she went to, to learn to put on makeup. Poor ‘thing’ never stood a chance. To be fair she probably wasn’t going to last long in a normal life anyway if this was the road she was going down. People don’t pick her life because things are going well.

Flashes from the camera collecting data were starting to give me a headache. I nodded at my partner and stepped out to have a smoke. Denny is a good kid. Catches on quickly and knows when I need my space. He started getting things rounded up for me so we can get a good report of it and start trying to figure this mess out. First thing we needed to do was to make sure it was connected.

At least he didn’t kill her on a rainy night. Makes evidence easier to find and gather. Not to mention it was a pleasant night to just enjoy the Philly air while taking in my last drag before hitting the road again. Denny tapped me on the shoulder as I tossed the butt off into a puddle of collected air conditioner run off.

“Wanna get some eggs?” I said with a little smile on my face. “Denny’s sound good?”

“Sometimes I hate you, Frank.” He chortled back at me. “How about we just get some donuts at the station. I could use a coffee and decompress a little. Don’t want to be in a crowd.”

“Crowd? It's two in the morning. The only people that will be out are the drunks.” To be honest donuts did sound good about now. “Let’s go.” I said without any confirmation as to what went on in my head. I knew he knew. Something about handling so much death and run-ins with Death himself bonds men like nothing else. It is almost to the point that I think that might be the only way men can make real connections anymore.

“That is the crowd I don’t like.” Denny said as he opened the robin’s egg blue door of the Pontiac. His parents were terrible drunks. The mother was probably into something worse but he wouldn’t talk about it much. Just that he didn’t have an easy childhood and he could see how it would turn a lot of people towards crime. He wanted to be their second chance. Their beacon of hope. Three weeks in and that changed him into a man that I was years ago. A rookie with no hope of saving those that commit crimes.

“We should get into white collar crimes.” I said as we peeled off into a busy street.

“Why’s that?” He asked.

“The hours are better and we wouldn’t be expected to do anything but collect a paycheck on one side and bribes from the other.” We both chuckled. Jokes are what makes dealing with death easier. Not more death like some people will try to make you believe.

Pulling up to the station I waved at the guys who liked to smoke in the motor pool. They chatted about some of the pettiest things. Which clubs they went to. How much they could lift. How much they could drink. Guys I didn’t get along with, but sometimes socialized with when I smoked. It was better than smoking alone.

Finally sitting down at the desk I started writing while the scene was still fresh in my head. Denny brought over a caramel topped donut that I liked and some coffee. Black as night. I feel like he figured out a way to add a darkener to the coffee instead of creamer. It was always a little different when he brought it to me than when I or someone else made it.

“What do you figure so far, Frank?” He took a bite and some crumbs danced freely on his desk and some paperwork.

“That we are in for a hell of a night.” Pushing the donut aside for now I finished the thought I had on paper. “Evidence of the Philly Throttler.” I didn’t like the name but the newspaper coined it. And I wasn’t great at coming up with names anyway.

“I think it is our guy. When the people process the pictures and they can bring everything in we might be able to find something we missed.” Denny said through another mouthful of donut.

I nodded in confirmation as I leaned back and started on the donut. I would rather it get on my shirt and floor rather than my paperwork. I might look like a slob but at least I don’t hand in a lunch tray to the police chief. The bitterness of the coffee hit my tongue and I didn’t even feel the heat from it. I was getting tired. If I wasn’t so ingrained in the night shift for the past ten years I would have asked to see the sun every once in a while.

After a few hours of just chatting with Denny and writing things down as we bounced ideas off of each other the police chief waddled in. “Frank, Denny, I got good news for you guys.” It usually was not ever good news.

“Whatever it is, the answer is no, chief.” I retorted.

“It didn’t need a response. You need to clear your calendar of stripper dates because you’re going to be pulling a few hours extra in the day to question people while they are awake. The Mayor is breathing down my neck about this with re-election picking up.” He never stopped waddling as he made his way to the office.

Denny turned to me with obvious despair in his face. “We got to pin this on someone” I said in a joking manner. Genie’s do have a funny way of granting wishes.

Denny responded, “I don’t mind the extra hours. I just wish they would transition us to day time if they wanted us questioning people around the area. Don’t they have day guy’s for that?”

“We both know how well those guys handle things. And no detective likes handling a case that isn’t his.” I answered while I opened a drawer labeled ‘oral care’ on my desk. Had my floss, brush and paste, and a forty-four magnum revolver that I didn’t carry on me. I called it my Raging Bull. Bullets were expensive and the budget wouldn’t replace it if it got lost or damaged in service. I kept it around more as a comfort piece.

Denny still looked disappointed. “I wish more people took all the jobs they were handed as their job. Would make things better for everyone.”

Between floss I said, “It isn’t about making it easier for everyone. Just ourselves.” I motioned with my eyes. “Get me another cup. I want one for the road.”

He poured me another while I finished brushing my teeth at my desk. Spitting in the trash can near my desk I grabbed my keys and we sprinted off to the first person on our list. Gary Griggs. Picture on file was an older one. He probably wasn’t past his thirties at this point. Did pop our topper as we cruised. Just enjoyed the breeze and the upcoming sun. Traffic was still a dull roar as we cruised since people were still waking up and not many were on their way to work.

We pulled up to a house that seemed to bring back memories. I don’t remember anything specific. Though I could have sworn I have been here before. “Denny, knock on the door. I am going to smoke a quick one before heading in.”

“You got it, Frank.” Denny replied. It seemed like no matter how many times I taught him how to do things he still had that same happiness of doing it the first time like he was learning. He was getting much better at it though.

I got out of the car and immediately began to get light headed. I put my hands on the sides of my skull just to keep the pounding from getting worse. All the lights started to flash violently and the world around me changed from cityscape to white walls. I was starting to feel confined. My chest was getting tighter. I dropped my unlit cigarette and my knees followed.

“Are you okay, Frank?” concern from a voice that changed from Denny’s to a familiar woman’s.

“What’s… who?” It was all I could get out. The lights stayed a stoic vibrant but piercing white. My eyes were still adjusting. Though I could make out everything in the room rather okay.

“You’re safe, Frank.” The nurse tried to calm me. “It’s me, Nurse Marie.” Like that was supposed to comfort me. Looking down I saw a glob of drool leaving my face and covering my clothing. I had a moment of panic before it set in on where I was. That I was playing a character. That I needed to figure out why I was here. And how to get out. She took a napkin and wiped away some of the drool. And picked back up the card she was holding in front of me. A Rorschach test.

“What do you see?” She asked. Her face twisting away into something almost cryptic as I stared at the card.

“A raging bull.” It was all I could think to myself as my answer was lost in the drool forming a new trail down my chin.

by Stephen Donnelly