Days passed and the detectives assigned to the case still had no clues to the man's whereabouts, or, for that matter, a positive ID of the individual. Since the second robbery a month and a half ago, which resulted in murder, the wanted man was the main suspect in three additional robberies. The crimes were committed in stores with late hours or, which were open all night and had just one employee in the establishment at the time.
Bosco continued his nocturnal quest in the hunt for his prey. He usually spent a couple of hours each night driving, jogging, or even walking in the vicinity of the robberies which all occurred within thirty blocks of Jolly's. The investigators on the case believed the fugitive probably lived within that area, at least at one time.
His late night excursions had, to date, been unsuccessful in locating the criminal. Bosco knew the longer it took for an arrest to be made, the less chance there would be for one. He realized it was quite possible that the person he sought may have left the City by now. The most recent assault occurred a week ago. He was also aware that the man's appearance might have drastically changed in the weeks that passed. He suspected a facial alteration of some sort was behind the perp's ability to remain at large.
Even though the wanted man might no longer look as he did that morning at Jolly's, Bosco was sure he would never forget the lunatic's angry, drug induced gaze. The man's bloodshot orbs were dark and deep set, and Bosco was convinced that anyone who stared into them long enough could actually be hypnotized to do his evil will.
He thought he had seen the fugitive in passing a few times and followed the suspected mope for blocks. His adrenaline rising as he eagerly pursued the unaware individual until he was able to get a good enough look before he pounced on him, only to be disappointed when he was sure it wasn't the one he sought after all.
Bosco wondered how the hunted man managed, to thus far, elude the authorities on his own. Perhaps he had an accomplice of some sort.
He knew he couldn't take the case personally. He didn't need the Lieutenant to remind him of that, however, for some reason, he couldn't stop dwelling on the cold-blooded animal that got away. Maybe he felt guiltier about the murdered clerk then he realized.
Crimes such as the robberies occurred in the City every day. Why did this one tear at him so much? The answer was, in fact, quite simple. He had more than one chance to apprehend the killer that morning, instead, he failed miserably. Not once, but several times. He was defenseless in the store, not quick enough in the pursuit, and unprepared in the alley. These may have been good enough excuses for any other officer, but not for him.
He knew it was only a matter of time before the madman would strike again and he didn't want another senseless death on his conscience. He felt it was his obligation to do everything possible to bring the fiend to justice. There was no other alternative.
The madman lounged on the tattered recliner of the dingy apartment as he stared at the fuzzy picture on the television screen and thought back to his recent travails. His last three unlawful acts forced him to reconsider his plan of attack.
After the first two robberies weeks ago, he found it necessary to wear a skullcap to cover his growing hair and a bandanna across the lower portion of his face. He wasn't about to risk the benefits of his recent makeover, so he resorted to donning the fabric as a makeshift mask. He got rid of the stained sweatshirt and replaced it with a black T-shirt. The hood had its benefits, but the heavy fleece was too conspicuous and out-of-the-ordinary apparel for the warm, humid City nights.
In the first of the three most recent attacks, the store's employee managed to shove him hard enough to make him lose his balance as he rummaged through the cash register. In a gutsy move, the clerk took off for the exit and ran down the street as he dodged the hail of bullets that were aimed his way. Unfortunately, the shots he fired missed their mark each time and the clerk appeared to escape the incident without a scratch.
The employee in the second of three robberies wasn't as lucky. The clerk, perhaps due to a case of nerves, was unable to open the register and received a blow to the head which rendered him unconscious while the masked man helped himself to the store's profits.
The third, or most recent robbery, resulted in his own misfortune. As he made a mad dash to the store's exit, he was unable to get through the door guickly enough before the cashier aimed and fired a small caliber handgun the owner kept in a tin canister under the counter. The bullet entered and exited his left forearm before it shattered the glass door. Since the wound wasn't serious enough to warrant professional medical attention, he treated the injury himself . Even though he did get shot, he considered himself somewhat fortunate. A more serious gunshot wound would have required a hospital visit, which would lead to a police report, and in turn, a police investigation.
All of that was six days ago and he had to admit, the running and hiding aspects of his illicit career choice were exhausting.
His arm wound was healing nicely and he knew it was time to plan his next robbery. His cash supply was running low and his lucky heroin find was long gone. However, he now had another obstacle to contend with.
As hard to believe as it was, his precarious situation regarding the convenience store murder/robberies and even the fact that the cops were looking for him, diminished with his most recent tribulation.
A few days ago, his need for a hit was unbearable and he knew he had to take action. After a night of prowling the streets, he ran into some guy outside of a rave and before the illegal trade of drug and cash (which he didn't have enough of) could be made, he boldly and mercilessly, kicked the man with all his might in the unprepared fool's groin.
The shocked dealer dropped his supply of Ecstasy and Ketamine, which he in turn, grabbed off the street and took off running with, however, not before he threatened the injured man with bodily harm, or worse, if he ever laid eyes on him again.
The X and Special K were by no means his drugs of choice, but he was desperate at the time and the opportunity for an easy score was too tempting to pass up.
Due to the rave encounter, word on the street in the past couple of days was that there were people looking for someone matching his description, therefore, the cops weren't the only ones he was currently hiding from. As well as he had tried to protect his identity; his facial changes were now compromised due to his thoughtless and hasty deed. Maybe the authorities had no leads on his physical appearance, but the mysterious men in suits probably did.
His one lucky break so far, occurred the next night. A stripper at one of the clubs he occasionally went to, felt sympathy for him and gave him shelter at her apartment. This allowed him a place to crash and hide.
He thought back to the night he was leaving the strip joint and caught sight of the cop from Jollie's sitting in the passenger seat of the police cruiser. The stupid shit didn't even recognize him! It would have been so easy to take a few short steps to the vehicle while it stopped for the traffic light and cut the bastard's throat. He would have been long gone before the driver even realized what happened. The pig that brought about his vast misfortune and began the cycle of his potential doom would now be dead.
He wrapped a fresh roll of gauze on his wound and cursed the witnesses he was unable to kill in the store on that rainy Monday morning. The old cashier didn't concern him, however, he wasn't sure how or why, but something convinced him the cop was not one to give up easily. The chase weeks ago made him realize that.
If his parents could only see him now, their disgust for him would surely reach an all time high. The thought made him laugh uncontrollably.
"You look kinda' tired...have you been sleeping okay?" Faith asked her partner. Actually, the dark circles under his eyes were evident for days, still and all; she didn't broach the subject sooner knowing he would only tell her what she wanted to hear.
She caught him nodding off at roll call earlier and inconspicuously nudged him a couple of times before Christopher noticed his lack of attention. In order to do their jobs properly, plenty of sleep was mandatory and they both knew it.
"Yeah...I'm sleeping fine...why?" He asked, annoyed with himself for letting her notice his fatigue. He knew it was only a matter of time before she would mention his exhausted appearance. The eye drops he put in each day only gave temporary relief for the redness his eyes now exhibited.
"Nothing...you just look tired...that's all." She answered, dropping the subject for now. She sensed his irked response and didn't want to risk a petty argument concerning his sleep patterns.
"I could use a cup of coffee though. Can we stop somewhere?" He asked while glancing her way, hoping to change the conversation.
"Sure, but we get a meal break soon anyway. How 'bout we stop at Stan's for a quick bite? I'm in the mood for their breakfast menu." She replied. "Besides...that place has the nicest restrooms."
Bosco smirked as he noticed the seriousness in her voice.
Faith caught sight of his facial expression. "What...they do Bos! Don't you ever check those things out? We've been to some slimy places with even slimier bathrooms." She said defensively.
"I don't care about the restrooms Faith, just the food." He answered. "Besides, I'm not hungry yet but I'll wait for you to eat. Lucky for me I don't need to use the facilities." He went on with a grin.
"No...I can wait till you're ready to eat too." She suggested. "I'll stop up the street at that little coffee shop and you can run in for a cup...okay?"
"That's fine with me." Bosco answered, never wavering his glance from pedestrian to pedestrian, hoping for a glimpse of the sought after perp as his partner pulled over to the curb.
"Can I get you something?" He asked as he exited the squad. "Unless, of course, you wanna' go in yourself and check out the bathroom stalls." He joked.
She couldn't help but smile. "Very funny. A diet soda with lots of ice would be great. Thanks."
Bosco opened the door to the small shop and was just about to enter the building when the sound of a gunshot pierced the quiet street. He instinctively semi-ducked while still holding the door handle with one hand and his drawn weapon in the other. He quickly focused his attention to5-5 David.
"Oh my God. Are you all right?" Faith screamed in wide-eyed panic as she bolted from the vehicle.
"I'm fine Faith!" He assured her. "The gunfire didn't come from in here!" He yelled to her as he visually scanned the area as a second shot brought about the sound of crashing glass.
They heard shouts for help and witnessed a lone figure flee from a building three doors away. A second later, another person ran out and chased the first around the corner while shouting at the man to stop.
"I'm on it Faith!" Bosco yelled to his partner. "Call for back-up!" He continued, and took off around the corner and out of eyesight before she could object.
Faith put the squad in gear and followed her partner while calling for assistance. "55-David to Central...shots fired on Arthur between 130th and 131st...my partner is on foot pursuit..."
Bosco caught up to the second individual, who he assumed was working where the shooting took place. The man's light colored apron was covered in splattered blood.
"Please don't let him get away. He shot my father in our store!" The man sobbed, tears flowing down his cheeks. "He didn't do anything...the bastard just shot him for no reason !"
"Sir, I need you to go back and wait for the police, I'll call for an ambulance!" Bosco yelled to the man as he continued his pursuit, filled with anticipation. Was this the work of the killer he'd been looking for all these weeks? Was this his chance to finally catch the son-of-a-bitch?
"5-5 David to Central...I need a bus on Arthur around 130th...there's a store shooting victim in that area..." Bosco shouted into his radio, making sure he gave all the pertinent information. His gun was drawn but the perp was no where in sight. He heard sirens nearing and saw 5-5 David with 5-5 Charlie pull up along side him. The officer's joined their eager comrade."See where he went?" Davis asked.
"He's back here somewhere." Bosco annnounced. "We can spread out and..."
"No Bosco...we wait for back up!" Sully cut in.
"You can wait all you want Sullivan but I'm not letting this one get away!" Bosco yelled to the senior officer as he took off down the alley.
"Bosco...damn it!" Sully's shout fell on deaf ears. "Does he ever listen?"
"Not really... I'll go with him." Faith responded in exasperation as she ran after her partner. "Stay in radio contact." She yelled back.
"C'mon Davis, let's go!" Sully said to Ty as they headed in the opposite direction.
Faith caught up to Bosco and stood beside him against the brick wall of the five story building, their guns drawn as they cautiously crept towards the back of the structure.
Bosco peeked around the corner and noticed a set of stairs that led to a door on the second floor. He looked just in time to see it close and transmitted a warning. "Sully...Davis...I think he went inside...he might be on the second floor looking for a way out...be careful!"
"All the doors we've tried so far are locked!" Ty responded
"Here Davis, the lock's broken on this one." His partner chimed in as he slowly opened the door, and with utmost caution, began his assent to the second story.
Faith followed her counterpart up the metal staircase where they stood on either side of the door. "Ready?" He anxiously asked, adrenalin speeding up his heartbeat. He wanted the shooter more than anything.
"Yeah...I'm ready." Faith nervously answered.
Bosco pulled the door open, preparing himself for the gunshots he half expected, however, they were greeted by total silence. He entered the building on full alert, Faith inches behind him.
"Back me up Davis...I'm gonna take a look around!" Sullivan instructed his partner.
"Got ya Sul...watch out though, it's pretty dark in here." Davis answered, his gun drawn in self-defense mode.
"Bosco...Yokas...where are you guys?" Sully stated, almost in a whisper into his radio.
"We're on the second floor, about halfway in the room." Faith responded. "Do you see anything?"
"No...not yet." Sully replied. It was getting a little too dark for comfort and he knew they would have to halt the search in a matter of minutes. The large room looked like it was mainly used for storage. Sullivan realized the man could be hiding behind any of the crates or boxes in front of him. He slowly took a step as one of the floorboards loudly creaked. Within seconds, a barrage of gunfire engulfed the room. The two officers dove for cover as the assault continued.
"Davis!" Sully frantically shouted to his partner.
"I'm okay...you?" Ty replied, just as frantic, if not more so. He wasn't prepared for the loud hail of gunfire.
"Yeah...do you see him?" Sully asked as he visually scanned the room from behind a large wooden crate.
"David to Charlie..." Faith shouted into her radio.
"We're good Faith...keep your eyes open!" Sullivan warned as he heard a door open and noticed a sliver of daylight to his far left. "He's fleeing the building...side emergency door."
"I'm there!" Bosco shouted, seeing the dull light himself. "Where's our back-up?" He yelled in annoyance, running for the exit as Faith closely followed.
Bosco charged down the emergency stairs and heard a door somewhere in front of him slam shut followed by a dull thud. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before he would have the much sought after shooter in custody. He approached the exit expecting to charge through it, instead, he crashed into the steel panel with all his might.
"Damn it...shit!" He bellowed in frustrated anger. "He locked us in!" He screamed as he uselessly banged on the obstruction, forcing the door bar. He wasn't about to lose another skel. He took off down a dark hallway in search of another way out.
The rest of the evening and most of the night were spent canvassing the neighborhood. As was expected, nobody saw anything, or more likely, they didn't want to get involved.
The shift ended hours ago and Bosco contemplated the day's events in the darkness of his bedroom. If the perp in the warehouse was the killer he pursued, the bastard managed to get away yet again. Faith tried to ease his feelings of inadequacy but her motherly lecture was not what he needed. He fought sleep but it finally claimed his exhausted body, however, it was not a peaceful slumber he would have hoped for but a restless, nightmare filled one.
The day turned out to be much better than he could have hoped for. After his hairy escape the previous evening, the criminal relished in his latest good fortune. He not only witnessed the bastard cop's feeble attempt to capture him, but he now knew something of him. The pig's name was Bosco and he worked out of the 55th precinct. He fell asleep in blissful anticipation of the day ahead.
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