October 10 2013, Thursday. 5.15 pm.
Riverside Railway Station Carpark.
I was seriously starting to get pissed off, which was saying a lot, because I would only allow myself to be annoyed ninety-nine percent of the time. Throughout my ten years as a cop, I'd always thought that even the most difficult of people would cave in whenever we flashed our badges and threaten them with charges of obstruction of justice and blah blah blah. But the past five minutes proved me wrong. Because we were now the ones getting restricted by rules.
"We've showed you our badges, God damn it. Now give us that freaking security tape!" I declared.
"I can't do that, Lieutenant," Walters said smugly. "It's against protocol."
I glared at him. Mark Walters was the security guard currently on duty. Williams and I had flashed our badges, requesting for the security tape for today. But dear Walters here pulled the oh-so-convenient 'That's against protocol' card against us. Why? Because Walters was also a complete idiot whom I had previously arrested thrice for physical assault before I joined Homicide.
"I've got to wait for approval from the chief before I can give you the tape," he said. "Rules are rules."
"Gee, Walters. Whatever happened to 'rules are meant to be broken' ?" I said sarcastically.
"I'm a changed man, Lieutenant," he said not-so-convincingly, giving me a cheeky smile as he did so. "I'm on the right side of the law now."
I didn't really care which side of the law he was on. All I knew was that he was getting on my bad side. But I decided to bite my own tongue instead of snipping off his when Williams started to approach him.
"Can you show me your hands?" she asked him, with that too-innocent smile. Normally it would've sent uh-ohs through my mind, but I was only too thrilled to see what was going to happen right now.
"What for? Are you going to check for dirt under my nails?" he asked sarcastically. But he complied anyway, probably sensing no danger in doing that. He was so wrong. In a blink of an eye, Williams grabbed his left palm, and used it to twist his arm. She then turned his body in the opposite direction, pressed the twisted arm to his back, and pinned him against the table. "Oww!" he screamed in pain, his voice an octave higher. "What the fuck, man!"
"Would you so kindly tell me where's the tape stashed at, Marco?" I asked gleefully, a big wide smile plastered on my face for the rest of the world to see.
"Before I kick you in the groin," Williams added.
"In the top drawer! Second from the right!" he exclaimed desperately. I took my time strolling to the drawers and slowly took out the tape.
"See? That wasn't so hard, was it, Marco boy?" I said. Williams promptly released him, and we left the office, leaving a whining Walters to himself. I gave the FBI agent a thumbs up as we headed back to the car. "That was pretty impressive," I said.
She gave a shrug of her shoulders. "I started taking up Krav Maga this year."
"A-plus, Williams, A-plus!"
October 13 2013, Friday. 6.27 pm.
Boston Police Department.
I replayed the video for the hundredth time. I couldn't help but feel that someone was bent on making my life a living Hell. Sure, Williams and I managed to obtain the security cam footage for the car park. And just as I had finally prepped myself for a two-hour long marathon of mindless video-watching, the footage turned out to be so grainy that it might as well be just plain static.
"Why do they even bother?" I muttered to myself.
"Have you found anything yet?" Williams asked.
I sighed. "I would've, if I had fifty different kinds of vision like Superman," I said sarcastically. "On second thought, I don't think Superman can, either."
"You, Lieutenant, are such a ray of sunshine," she said. "Pessimism isn't productive."
"I'm just being realistic, Williams. We're probably better off asking random people on the streets if they know who the killer is, than watch this time-wasting crap."
"Uh, hey, guys. I think I found something," Charles suddenly said. Williams and I moved over to his desk. "So... everyone that goes to the railway station is either picking somebody up or departing, right?"
"Yeah, so?" I asked.
"Well, that means that everyone that enters the carpark leaves with either one more or one less person, right?"
"Can we get to the point please?" I said, irritated.
"Well, I've been looking at the footage, and I've noticed that there's this one guy who entered the carpark alone, and left alone as well, all within thirty minutes."
"Was he carrying a bag?" Williams asked.
"I couldn't see. With the quality of this video, it's a miracle that I was able to notice this," Charles replied. "What I do know, is that this guy came at six in the morning, about one and a half hours before the body was discovered."
"Well, sounds to me that we're going to have to pay a visit to the security guard on duty at that time," I said. "Maybe we'll finally catch this guy after all."
"See, Lieutenant? Being optimistic isn't that hard, is it?" Williams teased.
"I never said I was a pessimist." I checked my watch. It was almost time to leave. Gwen and Sam were waiting for me to have dinner together. "Need a ride, Williams?"
"It's okay, I'll just get a cab."
"Getting a cab in this weather's harder than swimming across the Atlantic Ocean. Trust me. Charles, you coming along?"
The detective's eyes were practically glued to his computer. "Nah, I've got a couple of things to settle. I'll see you guys tomorrow."
"Alright then, see you," I said. "Which hotel are you staying at?" I asked Williams, as we made our way towards the elevator.
"The Regent," she replied. "Is it out of the way?"
"Nah, don't worry about it," I assured her. Just as the lift arrived, we heard someone running towards us from behind. We turned around to find Bruno, one of the uniformed officers, breathing heavily as he reached us. "What's the matter, Bruno?" I asked. Something in his expression told me I wouldn't like his reply.
"New... case..." he forced out in between breaths. "Missing... kid..."
Without a word, I took out my phone and started typing a message to Gwen as Williams and I walked back to the office.
So much for dinner.