Detective Lucas Cruz

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Sunday, April 12, 2012

6:35 a.m.

Philadelphia Railroad: Green Line Track #23

"Blake!" Detective Cruz screamed out, "Got your ass over here!"

"What is it rookie? What is all the fuss about?"

"Ok, you aren't going to believe this. I got my hands on a file a couple weeks back, a file about the Butcher of Manhattan, a killer from up in New York. Victims were killed the same exact way as our vic, and had paper notes with book or movie quotes. So on a hunch, and I mean a hunch, I checked the victim's hand. In it, I found this."

Cruz handed Blake the piece of paper that read "You're next, Blake", and Blake's jaw dropped immediately. He thought to himself the possibilities of who would want to kill him, but he couldn't think of any one specific person, well, that was still alive. Blake immediately stuck the paper in his pocket.

"Blake, we need to give that to evidence, it's part of the…"

"SHUT UP, KID! I'm thinking." Blake snapped out. Cruz was definitely not expecting this, and was caught off guard. "Shit…..um…kid, how many sick days do you have stocked up from being a beat cop. Sick days, vacation days, favors from officers you gave blowies to, anything?!"

"Um, I don't know, seeing as how I just left my old job, a ball park figure would be around….none. None at all." Cruz replied matter-of-factly.

"Look, cut the shit kid. You need to take off work. I can help you convince Leighton back at the station. For right now, act like all we found was this body."

"Blake, why the hell are you acting like this?" Cruz asked.

"Kid, you read the message. I'm a target. If the other investigators that'll be arriving in about five minutes see this, I'll be kicked off the case due to conflict of interest or some shit. I can't sit at home and idly do nothing. I need your help Lucas." This was the first time Cruz recalled in their short, relationship (that seemed like a lifetime) that Blake called him by his first name, and not rookie or kid. It was refreshing.

"Sure Blake, let's do this. I can keep my cool if you can. But, on one condition." Lucas Cruz never agreed to anything without some just compensation, "We do this together."

"Yeah….that was my plan. Jesus rookie…."

The new alliance began to scan the scene. Cruz was thinking about the job he just obtained and was about to lose, while Blake was thinking, for the first time, how much he wished Jayden was here with those damn glasses. What did he call them? ARTY? ARNY? ARI? Something stupid like that.

Then the other cops showed up. As first responders, Cruz and Blake had to answer all of the detectives' questions. All the many, many, many questions about what they found, where they found it, and where they had stepped around the location where it was found.

Blake was fine. He was used to all the questions, and holding his cool while he answered them. He had been on both sides of an interrogation before, this wasn't his first rodeo. Cruz on the other hand, had never received the grilling questions of an interrogation, and with every evidence related question, Cruz's mentality was slowly slipping towards the brink of cracking. He'd never been good under pressure.

But they both made it through unscathed, and successfully kept their little secret, secret. They left with haste.

"So, Blake, where to next?" Cruz asked?

"I don't know, let me think. Let's see…..the body was at the same location as Jeremy Bowles' body. I'm sure of it. Now I believe the victim was at the wrong place, at the exact wrong time. So….shit, Jeremy's scene was where I met Jayden. You aren't going to like it, but chronologically, the next place I went was the station. We need to go to the station."

Detective Lucas Cruz

Sunday, April 12, 2012

6:57 a.m.

Philadelphia Precinct

Blake and Cruz arrived at the precinct about 20 minutes later. They needed to get in and out as quick as possible, and find the next clue, if there was one.

"Ok, kid, it's time for you to prove yourself to me. Take this walkie," Blake said to Cruz as they were sitting in Blake's cruiser, "Check my desk for another scrap of paper. When you find it, or give up, buzz me on the walkie from the bathroom. MAKE SURE IT"S EMPTY!"

"Gotcha' Blake. I can do this" Cruz said, leaving the cruiser and entering the station.

Cruz walked to Blake's desk and sat down. For some odd reason, he felt empowered. He first started to search the top of the desk. He found nothing. Blake never seemed like the guy to have such an immaculate desk, but it was spotless. He checked the drawers, same thing. A whole lot of nothing. Cruz got up to call Blake on the walkie, when Ash walked over to him.

"Rookie, I need to talk to you." Ash said, walking up to Cruz. Cruz was beginning to feel the pressure rise.

"Yes, Ash, whatcha need?"

"Where's Blake?"

"Not sure. I haven't seen him since the crime scene. He sent me back here to grab him a coffee. I don't know why though."

"Yeah, Blake hates the coffee here. Hmm…anyways, have him call you when you see him."

"Yeah, ok Ash. For sure. See you later."

"See you, rookie."

Cruz breathed a sigh of relief. He walked back to the bathroom and pulled out the walkie talkie.

"Shit!" Cruz mumbled under his breath. Was there a fucking meeting in the bathroom? There were like eight guys in here.

Cruz walked up to the urinal and acted like he was relieving himself. He needed another place to call Blake. Cruz walked towards the bathroom door, making sure to wash his hands on the way out. He looked around the precinct for a quiet place besides the cell block. He looked across the hall and saw a small broom closet. He hoped it was unlocked.

Cruz made his way over to the closet and toggled the handle. The closet popped open. And then he noticed it wasn't a closet, but a small, backroom office. He turned on the walkie.

"Blake, you there?" Cruz said over the walkie talkie.

"Yeah, kid, I'm here. Whatdya' got?"

"Nothing. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing." That line brought back memories for Blake.

"Kid, it has to be there, check again."

"Blake, this zone is hot. I already got seen by Ash. I'm calling you from a coat closet because the bathroom's full. This is my career on….on the…."

"Kid, what is it?!"

And that's when Cruz saw it. Sitting on the desk in the closet was a note. It was what he was looking for.

"Give me a sec, Blake."

The paper read, "In his SHALLOW heart, he felt the sting, the INANE chatter of those less intelligent than him. And all of it just HUMILIATES him." Cruz didn't recognize the writing. It didn't mean anything to him. But the three of the words were highlighted. Shallow, inane, and humiliates.

"Wait….shit! it's an anagram!"

Cruz took the another paper and wrote down the letters in the words. SHALLOWINANEHUMILIATES.

"Ok…take this….the letter here…shift it over here….and bam. NATHANIELWILLIAMSHOUSE. Nathaniel William's house! Got it. Blake, do you read?"

"Gotcha kid. What is it?"

"I got the paper. It was sitting on the desk in this closet. Funny thing is it's an anagram. I'll show you in the car, but what I got is Nathaniel William's house."

"WHAT!? Say again, I didn't copy" Blake exclaimed.

"Nathaniel William's house." Cruz reiterated.

"Holy shit….kid, get out here now. ASAP."

"Blake, why the…"

"NOW KID!" Blake screamed.

Cruz rushed out of the station. Whatever he had just found, it was huge. Blake had some explaining to do. Cruz got into the car.

"Kid, don't talk. I'll explain everything on the way there. But you have one chance right here, right now, to get out of the car, and save your own ass from whatever is about to happen."

"No chance Blake. I'm in this with you."

"Good. Alright kid, you ready? We're going off the record."