Polarity

Chapter 2: A Detective's Story

Detective Glenn Turner took a long drag of his cigarette as he brought his car to a stop. Stepping out of the red and white '76 Mustang, he took in the building in front of him. The house was small, with a design almost identical to the other homes in the neighborhood. The wooden siding had been painted a light gray that, despite being a change from the various shades of white that dominated the other houses, was rather drab.

Two cars were in the driveway. The first, a white minivan, had been pulled into the garage. The second was a red pickup that looked as if it had seen better days. Several dents and scratches adorned the truck, particularly around the tailgate. If Glenn had to guess, he would say that the truck was a work vehicle. As he took another drag from his cigarette, Glenn noticed a third car parked in front of the house. It was a blue Jetta that looked almost as old as his own car. Glenn smiled. The Jetta was not unlike the car he had gotten for his sixteenth birthday.

"Seems like a pretty normal place," he said to himself. Indeed, if it weren't for the police tape that cordoned off the area, the house could have been any home in America. "Then again, some of the worst things happen in places just like this."

Extinguishing his cigarette on the ground, Glenn made his way to the crime scene. As he ducked his lanky, six-foot frame under the tape, a young female officer approached him. Glenn nodded to her.

"Olshefsky. What do we have?"

The young blonde returned his nod. "Derek Knight, Caucasian male, forty-two years old. He's got a broken neck, but there are signs of extreme electrical shock as well. We were just taking the body to be examined now."

The pair stopped as two paramedics wheeled out a covered stretcher. Glenn moved to lift the cover, but Olshefsky stopped him.

"I wouldn't do that, Detective. The smell is pretty bad."

Glenn took a quick sniff, then immediately regretted it. Even through the cover, the body gave off the pungent odor of burned flesh. He gave a slight wave and the paramedics continued on toward an awaiting ambulance. Glenn watched them for a moment, and then walked into the house.

Inside, the house seemed even smaller and plainer than the exterior suggested. The front doorway opened into a small and sparsely furnished living room. To the right was another doorway that led into a kitchen that doubled as a dining room. Straight ahead was a hallway that presumably led to the various bedrooms. Glenn followed Olshefsky into the kitchen.

Like the rest of the house, the kitchen was small, though there was room for a small table and four chairs. All but one of those chairs, Glenn noticed, were lying on the floor in various positions. Along with the chairs, several cups and utensils were scattered on the linoleum floor.

"Looks like there was a struggle," Glenn said mostly to himself. "Was anyone else injured?"

Beside him, Olshefsky pulled out her notepad. "Yes, sir, two others were injured. Brenda Knight, the stiff's wife, suffered some minor bruising on her face. Daniel Knight, their son, suffered major blunt trauma to his torso. Currently he is at San Diego General being checked for internal injuries."

Glenn frowned. There was something very strange about this case. Parts of it seemed simple enough. The injuries to the wife and son, for example, were rather easy to explain. With no signs of forced entry, the culprit had to have been in the house. All the years of Glenn's experience told him that the prime suspect had just been wheeled away on a covered stretcher.

The cause of Derek Knight's death, on the other hand, was baffling. There were any number of ways that a man could break his neck, but there were only a few ways to electrocute oneself. The most likely explanation was a power surge of some kind. The problem was that there were no signs of an electrical surge anywhere in the kitchen: all the lights were working, and all the outlets looked undamaged. It just didn't add up.

Being careful not to disturb the crime scene, Glenn walked around the kitchen to clear his thoughts. Then something caught his eye. On the fridge was a picture of two boys, one about twelve, the other in his teens. Glenn motioned Olshefsky over.

"Who are the kids?" he asked.

"Those would be Daniel and Brian, the victim's sons."

"Which one is Daniel?"

"The younger one." Glenn's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

"And what are Brian's whereabouts?"

"Um," Olshefsky flipped through her notepad. "Unknown. Should I put out an APB?"

"No," Glenn Replied calmly. "Not yet. I'd like to have a word with Mrs. Knight, though."

"She's at San Diego General with Daniel."

"Thanks," Glenn took another look around the kitchen. "Olshefsky, you and your people wrap up here. Let me know when you're done."

"Will do," was her reply, but Glenn never heard it. He was already halfway out the door.

XXXXX

Glenn knew that there had been something familiar about this case. He had seen something vaguely similar to this several months ago.

The details of the cases were actually very different. The Knight case was an apparent homicide, while the earlier case had been a series of petty thefts. The one thing that the cases shared was that it was impossible to explain HOW the crimes were committed.

Several months ago, a man named Smith had been arrested for stealing from pay phones, vending machines, and anything else that accepted change or cash. The man claimed that he had used explosives to get into the machines. While all the devices showed evidence of explosions, there had never been even a single trace of explosive materials on any of them. When asked what kind of explosives he'd used, he laughed and said "My daughter." Needless to say, the police were baffled. Still, they had gotten the confession, and that had been enough to convict the father.

Glenn, however, had not been satisfied. He suspected that the man's daughter was involved somehow. But before he could investigate, the case was dropped. The next thing he knew, the girl had been sent off to some prep school in New York. Glenn was determined not to let it happen again. His instincts told him that Brian Knight was somehow responsible for his father's death, and he was going to prove it.

There were only two problems. First, he only had two witnesses to the murder. Secondly, he wasn't entirely convinced that it had truly been a murder at all. Nonetheless, he had a job to do. He had to get to the bottom of this case, and the only one who could help him do that was sitting in a chair in room 317.

Glenn had been watching her for several minutes. She had spent most of that time talking with the nurses that seemed to always be hovering around her son's bed. She had only just sat down, and Glenn wanted to give her a minute to rest. Besides, he needed time to prepare himself. One wrong question, or one question asked in the wrong way and she might refuse to tell him anything.

Glenn studied her closely. She was a small woman, barely 5'3", with a very petite build. This, combined with the tension in her body language, conveyed a sense of great vulnerability. Even her eyes seemed fragile. They were a light shade of blue made heavy by the stress she was undoubtedly feeling. Yet even as her eyes wavered, he could detect something behind the frailty.

"Excuse me," came a voice to Glenn's right. He turned to see a young male doctor holding a file folder. "Detective Turner, I presume?" the man asked.

"Yes."

"Oh, good. I'm Doctor Macias."

"How can I help you?" Glenn asked with a slightly forced smile. This doctor had completely disrupted his train of thought.

"Well, Detective, I have the results of Daniel Knight's X-ray tests. It seems little Daniel suffered some slightly bruised ribs, but nothing more. It's quite a miracle, actually."

"How so?"

"Well, according to his mother's account, the boy's father had been kicking him very hard. I'd say that if he'd kept kicking him much longer, the damage could have been much worse."

"How much worse?" Glenn asked slowly.

"In my opinion, he might very well have been beaten to death," Macias answered calmly. The doctor paused, as if letting his words sink in. Glenn said nothing, but turned to look at Brenda Knight once again. She was still sitting, with her face cradled in her hands. After a few minutes Glenn turned back to where Dr. Macias had been, but the man was gone.

So, Glenn thought. Now it all makes sense. Brian had killed his father in order to save his brother. Glenn was sure that such circumstances were under the Imminent Danger clause. Then again, that was for a jury to decide. But was it right to put the family through a trial?

Glenn was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of his cell phone ringing. Normally, Glenn would ignore calls at times like this. But he could not ignore this particular call. A very special ring had announced this call: the Imperial March. That ring tone was reserved for only one person—his boss.

"Captain Chavez," Glenn spoke into the phone with as much cheery professionalism as he could muster.

"Turner, I want you to call off your investigation into the Knight case."

"What?!" Glenn could not contain his surprise. "Why?"

"Forensics on Derek Knight just came back. The boys at the lab say that the cause of death was electrocution. Knight died in a freak accident."

"Captain, you don't understand. I've got a lead. I think that Brian Knight is responsible for his father's death."

"Let it go, Turner."

"But Captain!"

"I said let it go," Captain Chavez's voice was firm. I just got a call from the Xavier Institute. They'll be handling the Knight children."

"The Xavier Institute?" the name sounded familiar. "Wasn't that the name of the prep school that the Smith girl was sent to?"

"Not that it's any of your concern anymore, but yes."

"And don't you find it a little strange that every time a kid does something unexplainable, they show up?" Glenn's fingers twitched. He needed a cigarette. He looked around, cursing the "No Smoking" signs that seemed to be hanging from every other ceiling tile. In fact, one was hanging above the entrance to room 317, where Brenda Knight sat. As he looked at her, he felt the urge to smoke slowly subside.

"Look," Chavez sounded very tired. "It's hard to explain, but this is all for the best."

"And how exactly is derailing a criminal investigation 'for the best?'" There was a pause, as if Chavez was milling over Glenn's words. After a moment, he replied.

"Listen, Glenn, drop by my office. I'll try to fill you in as best I can."

"Thanks. I'll do that. See you after my shift's over." With that, Glenn hung up. Putting his phone away, he took one last look at Brenda Knight before turning and walking to the elevator.

Author's Note:

I know, this is a much different chapter 2 than what was previously up, but I think that it's much better. No more narrative glitches, no more flagrant grammatical errors, and a fresh new perspective on the Knight brothers' story.

Also, some of my friends might notice their little cameos. Hope you liked them ;)