Hi, My Name Is…
The day was well under way when Detective Morris set foot in 101st for the first time. He was aware that he was late, but he was clueless as of the mess he was about to get into.
Broderick was receiving his new tasks when a handsome, black-haired man entered the precinct. He was not taller than six feet and was still approaching with arrogance that meant either a successful man, or a complete idiot. After the first 30 seconds with him Broderick picked the latter.
'Good morning, squire, 's'up?'
'Can I help you?' asked the sergeant, who being in an awkward situation, pulled his most patient face.
'Maybe I can, he-he,' laughed the younger man and joyfully clapped on the desk.
Next he turned and saw what he believed to be the most beautiful woman he ever set eyes on. The problem was that he decided to express that with his usual flamboyance.
'Well, hello to you too, beautiful,' he said with fogy eyes and grinned.
The woman leaned on the desk and to his dismay responded.
'Well, good morning to you, handsome. What is a stud like you doing around these quarters?'
She had deep, solid voice; the kind of voice whose owner could call the black white and you'd just agree, thinking there must be something wrong with your eyes.
'It's your lucky day, sweetheart, I'm starting a new job. Right here. …Man, you're smokin'… Like a Barbie doll – Asian style.'
The woman checked on Broderick impressed.
'I've never had that one before… And you know, I'm starting today as well. Ain't that something?'
'Absolutely!'
'I don't mean to interfere but you need to sign here,' said coldly Broderick.
'What's that?' asked Morris absently.
'Your name!'
'Oh… I'm Detective Brian Morris, straight from NYPD.'
'Swell,' muffled Broderick.
'That's for now,' said the woman to Broderick and then turned to Morris, 'I'll be seeing you, sweetie… a lot…'
'Come, let me show you to your new desk,' said the sergeant as bored as he could and slowly dragged his feet to the squad room.
'Man, this place is full of hot babes! …Hello there…'
'...Finish that sentence and I finish you,' replied Jody.
'O…K….'
Morris was to take Blake's old desk. He placed a tiny box and looked around.
'Morris, Skalany and Powell. Skalany and Powell, Morris.'
'Hia…'
'Whatever…'
Broderick disappeared in the Captain's office and returned 2 minutes later much rejuvenated.
'Oh, Morris…'
'Yep?' The detective was just placing a well-used Nintendo in his top draw.
'Time to meet your Captain and your Chief…' Broderick's evil grin gave Morris the chills.
'On my way.'
'Bless his soul,' murmured the sergeant and returned to the front desk.
XXX
The car passed the old house twice. No, he wasn't wrong, that must be it. Peter parked not far and went to check on the place. This was definitely the address the social worker had given him, yet he couldn't believe that he had sent one of his kids into such a dwelling.
Just as the former cop was wondering what to do, two police cars loudly blocked the road behind and Peter suddenly found himself surrounded. As if that was not enough, three uniforms held guns against him. By instinct he reached for his pocket and a second later it dawned on him that there was nothing in it that would make him equal to the men in front.
Reluctantly he lifted hands.
'Don't move!'
He smiled bitterly.
'What are the charges, gentlemen?'
Before any reply came, two women came out of one of the cars. There was at least 10 years difference between them, and Peter could not help but notice how pretty the younger one was.
The older came closer.
'Mr Caine? Peter Caine?'
'At your services, Madam.'
'Down boys,' ordered the younger woman and joined the older one. 'Mr Caine, pleasure to meet you, sir.'
Pleasantly surprised by the change of mood Peter approached.
'The pleasure is mine…'
'Detective Joanna Harris.'
'Nice to meet you,' said Peter and smiled shyly at the woman's way-too-prolonged gaze at him.
'Mr Caine… We spoke on the phone,' interfered the older woman, saving Peter from an uncomfortable situation.
'Mrs Gerard, right?'
'Yes, nice too meet you... Unfortunately things here don't look good. Not only have we not heard from Melanie's foster family, we can't find them. We know that her foster-father leaves for work at about that time, so we were hoping to catch them all together.'
'Isn't she supposed to be at school?'
'She's been absent for two days,' said the Detective. 'We couldn't contact any member of the family.'
Anxious Peter looked at the house. It appeared dark and cold, the front yard had not been cleaned, ever, and generally the whole area made it look like no one lived there. Just when Peter was trying to concentrate on the life force coming from the house one of the uniforms approached him.
'E-excuse me… you're r-really… Peter Caine?'
'Yeah...' Peter was a bit surprised at first but the police officer who had held gun against him only minutes ago was actually a 21-year old youth, freshly out of the Academy.
'Wow…'
'What?'
The youth made sign to the others.
'Told you I can do it.'
'Man…Peter Caine… in Riverton… Awesome!' That was another uniform, a bit older but equally star struck.
'What's the big deal?'
'You kidding me? You're huge, man.'
'Me?!'
'Yeah,' answered the youth whose name was Jimmy De Marco. 'We study you at the Academy.'
'What, in 10 Things Not To Do in a Hostage Situation?'
'No, your cases, your style… You're a legend!'
'Come on…'
'Look, after we're done here, would you like to join us for lunch?'
Hey…' Peter suddenly got serious. 'It's not time to think of lunch. Never, ever, take a situation for granted, you understand?'
'Y-yes, sir,' stammered Jimmy and looked ashamed at his feet.
In that moment the house door opened with a bang and a young girl with long, wavy hair fled out.
'Peter!'
'Mel?' Peter was running. 'Mel!'
It was pointless.
A scream and two gunshots followed.
Peter jumped to the side. All he heard was a new bang, from the door shutting this time. He lifted head; after the echo from the gunshots died, the only sound was coming from Detective Harris's voice who was calling for back-up.
XXXX
Still cheerful, Morris pressed the handle and entered Captain K. Griffin's office. At first everything seemed all right; one man was talking on the phone with the chair's back turned at him, while at the other end a woman was checking some files.
Then the gates of Hell opened...
The woman lifted head.
'Ah, hello, gorgeous!'
He gulped and nodded.
'I'm Chief Jahn, by the way,' said Tara and grinned with a smile that could make Hell freeze.
The voice from the chair disappeared and the chair turned. At that moment Morris wanted to turn and run for the hills.
'Detective Morris… Sit!'
Bryan nearly trampled in the chair while sitting, never missing off his sight the man with the scary voice, the very same he had met earlier in the morning.
'So… two fresh faces in one day; I should play the lottery,' said Kermit and smiled.
'You heard him, Detective, we have to prove ourselves.'
Morris gulped. He had no idea if his superiors were joking or being serious.
'I… Sure… I'll prove…'
'Oh… Detective Morris… considering you have already said more than enough, keeping your mouth shut will only work in your benefit,' hissed Tara in almost singing voice.
Morris bit lips.
'Now…,' continued the new Chief, 'sadly I've already proven what I'm capable of… Which leaves just you, I'm afraid.'
'Mhm…'
'I believe,' continued Kermit, 'yesterday you've received a file on a murder case from the police Commissioner?'
'Mhm…'
'And I'm sure you know it by heart.'
'M…hm?.'
'Well,' said Tara and left her cosy corner, threateningly approaching Bryan, 'we're on.'
'We?'
'You have five minutes to revise your notes.'
'Notes?'
'Move it!' shouted Tara and the man jumped.
Left alone the two already good friends shared a sigh.
'...I'm sorry, Kermit… about the case and one of your own….'
'And I'm sorry that a Vice-case had to become a Homicide,' fumed the Captain. 'I'm even more sorry that it's been a month and no one has been punished.'
'I'll take care of that,' said Tara quietly. Before leaving the office she asked, 'When is Detective Morgan back to work?'
'In a day or two.'
The new Chief nodded and left. There was work to be done, and she knew exactly how to do it.
XXXX
Time was vital. There was not much of it to make it possible to wait for a SWAT team; the screams and repetitive sounds of broken furniture made any delay pointless. There were enough uniforms to surround the house; more than enough if the priest's predictions were correct and there were only two adults inside.
Peter had gathered enough self-confidence to allow him to go in through the main entrance. It was not the cop-confidence; if he counted on it he would have entered by now. It was his Shaolin-confidence, which had grown, honed, and perfected further during the last six months.
'Police, open up,' shouted Detective Harris. Peter was on her side but he no longer had the right to break into people's houses and get away with it. The honour was Jimmy's, who sneaked behind Harris and kicked the surprisingly sturdy door.
Nothing happened.
A bit embarrassed the young cop prepared for a second hit when Peter made him sign to calm down. The priest stretched hand and positioned it above the door knob. Seconds later they heard a click. Amazed the two cops stared at Peter who shrugged innocently and made way for them to get in.
This time Jimmy's kick worked.
XXXX
Back at the precinct things were not looking up for Detective Brian Morris. On his first day he had managed to insult his new captain and hit on his new chief. Right now he was frantically leafing through the file on a case with a serial rapist that had turned into a murder investigation after one of the attacks had gone wrong.
The case had been stuck for more than a month, with not a single suspect. Even the police's extra efforts, applied after their own Detective Morgan had become one of the victims, lead to a dead end. Morris was clueless how he would find a solution by checking a file that had been already read by at least a dozen of other cops.
Strong presence to his left made him breathe in and wipe the sweat off his forehead.
'How are we doing?' asked Chief Jahn while peaking above Brian's shoulder.
'I… There's nothing here, Chief, I'm sorry.'
'You sure?'
'Well… all facts are known… and there's nothing to give us a hint.'
'I see. Well, I guess it's never too late to learn. Move.'
Tara leaned and started placing the different papers in a weird order. Inadvertently Morris inhaled her scent, it was something very similar to jasmine.
'Let's start simply. What do we know about our victims?'
'That they're women?'
Tara rolled eyes. 'Well done, Sherlock. What else?'
'Uhm… Age…'
'Yes?'
'All between 25 and… 41?'
'Good. What about height?'
'Height?!'
The height of each of the victims was written down but so far absolutely nobody had actually looked at it. By that moment most of the nearby detectives had stopped whatever they were busy with.
'Uhm… Well… 5' 7''… 5' 9''… Wow, there's one of 5' 10''…'
'Anyone shorter than 5' 6'' ?'
'Uhm… nope.'
'Taller than 5' 10''?'
'Uhm…. Ah, there's one… basketball captain… 6' 04''. Let me see… She's the tallest. Ha, a rapist with fondness for tall women…'
'Oh, boy,' sighed Tara. 'What does that tell us, detective?'
'That…. He selects?'
'He's tall, gorgeous, tall!'
'R-right…'
'OK, what weapon has he used?'
'Oh, I'll have to read through the statements again…'
'There is no weapon,' said the young woman with a bored voice and continued. 'Do we have any evidence?'
'Ah, here,' exclaimed the humiliated detective. 'The one he killed… They found a long, red hair…'
'Good, good, we know what he looks like...' Tara sipped coffee. 'Now, a 100-point question: judging from what we know already, and the victims' wounds… What can we conclude about our rapist's physical looks?'
Morris gulped. 'He's tall…' Desperately he looked around him, silently begging for help.
'How 'bout the killed girl? Check her photo.'
The picture showed a girl not older than 30 with dark spots around the neck.
'He strangled her…'
'If you look closely you'll see that the marks fall under an angle.'
'Ha… Yeah, indeed… uhm...So?'
Without a warning Tara's hand shot for Morris's neck and grabbed him.
'Can you feel that?'
'Aham…', hummed the stunned detective.
'Now, your neck is not at a comfortable distance. To do any job, I'll have to stretch my hand and grab you closer to the jaw, under an angle.'
Tara released the grip. The edge of her eyes noticed the massive attention their little talk had attracted but she didn't mind – someone had to teach the gang how to investigate properly.
'Why do you think he did that? Why not use a knife and get over with it?'
'B-because… he didn't have any?'
'Because he's tall, massive, and has big hands,' called a voice from behind. Kermit approached. 'He doesn't need a knife; he's confident in his giant paws.'
The captain turned towards Tara. 'Five minutes and you already know about the criminal more than we've learned in a month… Not bad.'
'I haven't started yet, Captain,' purred Tara and returned with much more severe gaze at Morris. 'Now, let's talk psychology.'
'?!'
XXXX
'Police!'
Jimmy De Marco had been dreaming of this moment since his pre-teens. The guns, the adrenaline, the power… In the movies cops would burst in, make some noise and get the bad guy in a nick of time.
Alas, real life ain't a movie.
Officer De Marco burst in and leapt forward, completely disregarding Peter's warning shout. The first shot missed him, so he managed to go further inside and cover behind a green wall with peeling paint. Peter and Detective Harris remained behind.
'Stay put, officer,' shouted Joanna. Peter could feel the massive presence of a big, heavy man, and made a sign to the Detective where he would come from. Unfortunately officer De Marco didn't see the sign, nor did he pay attention to his superior's command.
At the first creak of wooden floor the young cop jumped out of his cover and straight in the way of the bullet. His body flew back like a rag doll. Peter had little time for emotions. Heavy steps followed the blood track. The leg of a massive, obese man appeared in the Shaolin's sight which was a sign to act. His left food spread and trampled the armed man who shook the house when he hit the floor. Before he could move Peter's elbow found the back of his neck and the giant didn't move again.
Anxiously Peter left him to the Detective and ran to Jimmy.
'G-get 'em…,' whispered the youth and forced a crooked smile. Peter caressed him and bit lips; there was no time to take care of everybody.
XXXX
Tara bit lips, praying for patience. Working with half-witted under-achievers was going to take some getting used to.
'That means we're getting a psychological profile.'
'How?' Morris had found it useless to pretend he understood what was going on.
'What do we know about the victims, Detective? Anything apart from their gender and height?'
'Well… Uhm… Occupation?'
'Good, good, tell me more.'
'OK… So… We have a school principal, a basketball captain, a bank manager… another manager… prima ballerina… an anchor at the evening news…' Morris gulped. '…Detective Morgan…'
Tara turned and winked and Kermit. The Captain took his glasses off and went to check the data himself. He couldn't believe they hadn't done this before. It was so terribly obvious!
'Come on, Morris, impress me. What's the link?'
'Well… They're all successful, that's for sure.'
Tara looked victoriously.
'The high point of my morning!'
'Well?'
'This man has serious issues,' continued Tara in a sombre tone, sounding like she was reading. 'Successful women threaten him… So he simply thinks they all need to be punished, need to pay for something… most likely something that happened to him as a kid.'
'Childhood trauma?' suggested Kermit.
'Mmm, isn't that where all our issues stem from? Could have been a strict teacher, an abusive mother… A woman with authority over him, a woman with some power over his life.'
'How can they threaten a man bigger than Shack?'
This time Kermit interfered. 'If you have nothing smart to say, Detective, I advise you to say nothing.'
'Rule number one in dealing with women, Morris, size doesn't matter,' said Tara and disappeared in her office.
'In 10 minutes we've advanced on that case more than in weeks…' mumbled Jody and felt her growing discomfort around the new Chief almost tangibly.
Tara returned with a map and placed her near the water dispenser.
'Right. Morris?'
'Yes, Chief.'
'Check the material evidence supplied from the victims.'
'Uhm… Private things… Documents… Papers…'
'How 'bout receipts,' suggested Tara absently while leafing through a folder she had collected from her new office.
'Ehm… I see…. Yes, we have some…'
Meanwhile she unfolded a map of the city's East End, which included China Town, that Blake kindly supplied her with.
'Thanks, Detective, you've been very helpful.'
Red pins were pointing at certain areas, all completely unknown to the new detective.
'If you had done your job properly, Detective,' said Tara with her back at Morris, 'you would have noticed that our victims share another very important trait in common – they like to party.'
'Uhm, excuse me, we've already checked that…' Jody found it necessary to interfere. She was feeling extremely uncomfortable about the fact that someone who had just set foot in their precinct might solve a case she was seeing for the first time... And someone so young, too…
'Not good enough, Detective Powell, not good enough,' answered Tara coldly. 'Right... These are the clubs the ladies have been partying up to 12 hours prior to the attacks; the 'Agrippa', 'Utopia', bar-club 'Soirée', and the 'Queen of Spades'… I like that last one…
'Tara, we have checked that link…' said Kermit in a quiet voice.
'And you found out that the clubs' owners were clean, or that all of the bar-tenders and bus-boys have alibi?'
As no reply came she looked at Kermit patronisingly.
'It's OK, guys, if you don't know where to look, you'll never see it.'
XXXX
