The Friend's Story (part 2)

The door to the chief's office rattled in its hinges as I threw it open, not bothering to shut it, before I stormed across the fluffy carpet. Without a warning, I slammed the bulletproof vest onto the chief's desk with a loud thud, nearly knocking over his precious NYPD coffee mug.

"When did you issue new vests?" Despite his being my superior, I didn't care to ask politely.

Chief Harris looked up from the folder in his hands, with a grim expression on his bearded face.

"Damn it Redfield. Why are you trying to give me a heart attack?" He quickly glanced at the vest in front of him, then back at me. "To answer your question, I never issued new vests."

"Then how come I found this…" I gave the vest a shove, causing it to slide across the polished mahogany surface. . "…in Leon's locker not two minutes ago?"

Harris stopped it clumsily with one chubby hand before it could drop into his lap. A hint of confusion began to spread out over the chief's face as he pushed the object of discussion back into a steady position.

"Kennedy wasn't wearing his vest? That's not like him."

"According to McKinley, he was…Just not this one I guess." I angrily pointed at the vest.

Harris finally closed the folder and put it aside, before resting both his arms on top of his desk. Suddenly, I had his undivided attention.

"Why?" He asked, his face puzzled, but calm.

"You tell me." I folded my arms, slightly tilting my head in anticipation to his answer.

"Look, Redfield." He said in a calm voice. "I know you are upset about what happened. We all are." He reassured me, "But I'm sure there is a simple explanation as to why Kennedy didn't wear this vest." He shrugged indifferently. "Maybe he got himself a new one…I got quiet a few Officers who think the standard police vests are crap and buy another one at their own expense. It's not that unusual, you know."

If that was all he had to offer, it was lame. Leon never mentioned getting another vest and I was almost positive he would have asked for my or Barry's opinion on the matter. The reason had to be a different one and I was going to find out.

"I wanna be part of the investigation team." I said, leaning across the desk, fixing my eyes on his as to give my a little more weight to my request.

"No."

Harris reached for his mug, then casually leaned back into his leather chair, sipping on the cold coffee. The frustration that had build up inside of me was turning into anger. How could he simply turn me down? But deep inside I knew the answer even before he told me.

"You know I can't assign you to this case. You are too emotionally involved."

Of course I was emotionally involved. How could I not be? Leon was my friend, not to mention my pregnant sister's boy friend. But that was exactly why I owed it to them to find his murderer.

Harris set the mug back onto the table before he continued.

"The media is already on my ass. A cop being shot right in front of the police station is very bad public relations. It makes us all look like dumb asses and I really don't need you, or any other STARS member for that matter, to go on a revenge rampage about it."

He lifted his heavyset body of the chair and slowly rounded the table as he spoke.

"I already got Steward and Kramer on the case and you know they are my best detectives."

As he reached me, he comfortingly put a hand on my shoulder, slowly turning me around.

"I suggest you take a few days off. Try to calm down. Take care of your sister. And don't worry about your work either. Chambers is gonna be back tomorrow and Valentine is already in the office, replacing you." He said while guiding me towards the exit, practically shoving me through the still open door. "Now… do yourself a favour and go home."

I felt cheated by Harris when I heard the door fall shut behind me and I sure as hell wasn't going to go home. I needed to talk to somebody, somebody who would listen to me.

                Jill Valentine was always the right person to talk to when you needed somebody to discuss your problems with. She had this special talent to make a problem seem less of a problem with her unbelievable optimism. Yeah, she could make me smile in the worst of times.

"Hey Chris." Jill said with nothing but sympathy in her green eyes as I entered the STARS office. She rose from her desk, giving me a quick hug."

"I came over as soon as I heard. How's Claire? Is she alright?" She asked, truly concerned, looking straight into my eyes.

I shook my head. Jill gently pushed me backwards into a chair, crouching down before me, her small hands resting on my knees. She didn't say anything, giving me time to start whenever I was ready.

"Why? Why Leon?"

"I…I don't know." Her voice was so low, it was barely audible. I wanted to talk to her, but I didn't even know where to begin. It was so screwed up, so utterly wrong that I couldn't make sense of it, no matter how hard I tried.

"Not even two hours ago he was right here, joking around with me and the next thing I know…" I trailed off. "It just doesn't make sense, Jill…Who would want to kill him?"

Jill shifted. "Chief said it was probably gang related. Could have been revenge."

"Revenge for what?" I asked her.

She looked down at her hands, scratching on my cargos with her index finger.

"Maybe…maybe he busted some gang member and then the others freaked out. You don't know."

I shook my head in disagreement.

"No. Cedar Hights wasn't on his tour. Not even close. He didn't have a single patrol on the east side for over two months."

I knew for sure he didn't cause I myself had persuaded the chief to only give him patrol routes along the west side of town, right after I had found out Claire was pregnant. Leon would have hated me, had he ever found out, but I figured I'd make sure Claire didn't have to worry about him all the time. Could life be anymore ironic?

"As sick as it sounds, but… do you think it could have been a mix up? Maybe they didn't want to kill Leon, maybe… they thought he was somebody else?" Jill suggested, looking back up.

"Yeah, maybe." I turned away for a moment. "And maybe Christmas is on December first this year…and maybe Harris will assign me to the case."

"He told you off, huh?"

I nodded.

"I heard he put Steward and Kramer on it. Is that true?" Wrinkles forming on her forehead as she asked. Jill disliked them just as much as I did. Steward and Kramer were two small town wanna-be-FBI-agent detectives and the only thing worse than their cheap suits was their arrogance. I was sure Harris had picked them because they would get him presentable results in a very short time, but I was afraid they'd miss something. Hell, they both had their heads so deep up the chief's ass, it was impossible for them to spot a truck on a tennis court.

"He might as well have put Goofy and Donald on it." I sighed. "I wonder if they have any leads yet."

Jill looked up at me with a smirk.

"You wanna take matters into your own hands, don't you?"

Yeah, she could read my mind and that was what I loved about her…among other things. I covered her hands, with mine, leaned closer towards her and locked gazes with her..

"Are you with me, Jill?"

                The rest of the afternoon we did nothing but evolving and rejecting theories, secretly we sounded out anyone who had been at or near the crime scene, we checked all of Leon's reports trying to find out what he had been working on, we even made a list of possible suspects. But the results of our investigation were frustrating to say the least. There was nothing, nothing what so ever that could help us. It was like the whole world was against us and I was close to believing that I was seeing things, just because I wanted to see them, because I didn't want to accept the fact that Leon had been killed for no reason, just like so many others were killed for no reason every day.

Jill had focused on the car, our best bet to find the suspects, but had come up empty handed. The officers, who had pursued the white limousine told her, they had been able to chase it into a basement garage about three miles south of the police station. They had immediately blocked every exit, every possible escape route, but when they moved in, the car wasn't there. It had simply disappeared, vanished into thin air, evaporated, dissolved, what ever you wanna call it…and so had the passengers. How, they couldn't tell, but it was a trick even Houdini would have been jealous of. For two hours, twenty cops had searched and re-searched the entire basement garage and the surrounding areas. Nothing, not a trace. Of course they had been able to get the license plate, but that too, was a dead end. The license plate was registered under the name of Gregory Parker, a twenty-year-old supermarket employee, living and working in Cedar Hights. It would have been a good lead, it would have fit, hadn't his car been reported stolen three weeks ago. On top of this the stolen car  wasn't a limousine, it wasn't even white, it was a red pick up truck.

It was already dark outside and wrecking my brain over all the odd things I had come across, I hadn't even realised how late it was. Jill had decided to go down to the evidence room, trying to see if she could sneak a peak at what they had so far, but I guessed she wouldn't find anything either. I flicked another paper-pellet  at the wastebasket next to Jill's desk, seeing it bounced of the rim and disappear inside. Score! Yeah, right about now, I was supposed to be watching a movie with Jill, bragging about how I had finally defeated the all time champion, Leon S. Kennedy, in our weekly one on one Basketball competition and…wait a minute. Suddenly, I recalled that list I found. He had planed on letting me win. But why? And why had he asked me to take care of his son in case…had he suspected something would happen to him? Had he been in some sort of trouble? It would at least explain his strange behaviour but…no, I shock my head trying to convince myself. He would have told me, I was sure about that. He trusted me and I trusted him, there was no reason to keep any secrets. I quickly pushed that thought away never the less making a mental note to ask Claire sometime if he had ever mentioned anything. Just in case. For now, I had to find his murderers and then I could worry about a motive. But how?

In my desperation, I did something that, under normal circumstances, I would never consider doing. I called Kramer.

Just the thought of having to ask him for help send a wave of disgust through my body.  When he finally picked up the phone, I decided to cut the conversation to a minimum, starting by simply skipping all formalities.

"Kramer…uhm…I was just wondering if you guys had the ballistics report back yet?"

"Redfield? It's you isn't it? And I'm guessing you're talkin' 'bout the Kennedy murder, aren't ya?"

I gripped the receiver tight, telling myself to be nice to him, no matter what.

"Yeah…so…you heard anything yet?"

"Nasty thing that, isn't it? Shot him right there in the parking lot." He made a sucking noise. "It's a shame, really. Heard he was a damn good cop…for a patrolman, anyway. But who knows, might have made Detective some day…But what am I tellin' you. You knew him better than I did, didn't ya?"

I forced a fake smile on my face, even though he couldn't see it, just to make myself feel better.

"Yeah. As a matter of fact, he was a very good friend of mine."

"Oh that's right! He was the guy who knocked up your sister wasn't he?…Sorry.." He gave a little laugh "where are my manners… got her pregnant of course"

I gritted my teeth so hard that my jaw was starting  to hurt. Taking a deep breath, exhaling slowly, I continued

"The ballistics report…please?"

"Right, the report." I could hear him shovelling papers around for a while, then he came back on. "Got it right here… Well, not much in it. The shell we found is a 12 calibre, shot by a standard Remington M1100 from the looks of it…No news on the weapon itself yet."

I wasn't too surprised about this. After all, who ever those guys were, they had taken the weapon with them and as the car had disappeared, so had the shotgun.

"What about the other one? The 9mm? Got anything on that?" I asked, since this was what I really cared about.

"What other one? There was no other one, was there?" He didn't even sound surprised about my question. However I was quiet surprised about his answer.

"What do mean there was no other one? Check the report. It was a 9mm, I'm pretty sure about that. There's gotta be a shell…or even the bullet itself. Depending on whether it hit him or not."

"Look Redfield." There was impatience and his typical know-it-all attitude swinging in his voice "I got the report right here in front of me. I can read and I'm tellin' ya, there is no other one… Neither a shell, nor a bullet."

"Well, check it again!" I snapped at him in disbelieve.

"What? You think I'm stupid? Listen, I already told you, there … is …no …other one!"

Quiet frankly, yes I did think he was stupid and my patience was wearing thin too.

"No you listen, dipshit! I was there. I heard the second shot. I SAW the other weapon for crying out loud! So cut the crap Kramer and give me the real deal."

I had a feeling that he wasn't telling me the truth. Then again, what reason would he have to lie to me?

"Hey, you wanna be nice to me, cause I'm already puttin' my ass on the line for you here. Chief warned me you would start snoopin' around and he said no matter what you say, it's not your case. I don't know what you think you saw or heard, but don't ya think we would have found some evidence if there HAD been another weapon, huh?".

"Well maybe you just fucked it up, Kramer. Maybe you should start looking again!"

I knew I shouldn't yell at him, but I had seen it!

"Don't you fuckin' tell me how to do my job, Redfield. There's a good reason why I am the detective in charge of this case. If you got a problem with that, go find somebody who cares."

Before I could throw him another insult, I was disconnected.

"Well, fuck you too, asshole!" I shouted into the receiver and slammed it onto the hook. One thing was clear, I didn't have to call him again for the autopsy report once it came in. I had screwed it up and there was nobody else to blame but me.

At the end of this awful day, I had more questions than answers. I had a murder case, but no motive. I had about twenty witnesses, but no suspects. I had a license plate, but no car. I was missing a bullet, instead I had two bulletproof vests. But worst of all, I had a dead friend, who was never gonna come back and a pregnant sister who wouldn't talk to me.

"Shit!" I screamed at the empty office and in a sudden outburst of anger at nothing in particular, at the whole world in general, I swiped my arm over the desk, wiping it clean, sending papers and photos flying through the air, pencils and office supplies clattered to the ground, rolling around, the phone crashing onto the hardwood floor with a loud bang for the second time today. It was stupid, but it felt good to vent some anger. I leaned back into my chair, burying my face into my hands, trying to focus back to the case at hand. My thoughts were tight up in a knot and instead of bringing relieve, helping me to concentrate, the darkness I was staring at conjured up but one image: Leon, dead in the parking lot, his eyes empty, his face drained of all emotions and I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time, fear, despair, powerlessness and a deep sadness and I did something I hadn't done in a long time either; I actually cried.

Claire pulls away from me, her eyes swollen, her face a mask of pain. I offer her a paper towel, trying to force a tiny smile on my face as I watch her wiping her tears away. It's all I can do right now. She seems so brave, so strong, but I know deep inside it's tearing her apart and I wish for nothing more than her giving me a chance to help her. I hope she will take me up on my offer to move in with me. I just want her near me, I want to be there for her when she needs me but most of all, I don't want her to be alone. I run my hand over her hot face, drying of the last lonely tear, dribbling down her cheek.

"Come on Claire," I say as softly as I manage "I'll take you home."

As she looks at me, I realise that for the past six days, I have been hiding behind my work, making it my first and foremost priority to find anything that could answer my question as to why and who had shot Leon, being a pain in the ass for everybody around me. I denied the possibility of his death being accidental with such persistency, that I forgot there are more important things in life than avenging the dead. My sister is still alive and she needs me …sane. Maybe I should take a few days off, do something else for a change. Maybe it's time for me to accept the fact, that finding Leon's murderer won't change anything, he'll still be dead. Maybe it's time for me to let it go …or at least, push it off for some time.

A/N:

Next Chapter: The Victim's Story

Yeah, you've guessed it. The last part will be Leon's POV. Let's see what he's got to say about it. Maybe he can shed some light on the whole mess…