String of Murder

by brett hicks

  Bobby thought about it for a moment and he conceded my point. He was unlikely to get any cooperation with a snow-white blonde detective at his side. I might detest that our grandparents had been apart of the slave trade, but to them, I was still the very personification of all they hated and feared. Even being a woman would not lend me any credit, since the women of the south had been just as cruel to the colored people as the men.

  We were passing another pair of detectives on our way out the skyline exit. The wind of the higher elevation whipped my hair around my head. The sun seemed somehow closer to me up here. There were massive walkways and metal streets on the skyline. The servants made themselves as invisible as possible and the Britannia children played a form of street-ball, except they were seeing if they could hit the ball into a passing zepp-cab.

  The evening was full of the bustling steam-powered balloon and compact steam engine cabs like the massive zepp transport airships, except for these being smaller, about the size of a ground car. The engines were only about twice the size of the compact version my steam-bike utilized to function.

  Many other varying modes of air travel were present as well. The streets and the upper levels were so massive that people even used tiny two-seater steam-cars or steam-bikes on the skyline. This was a city above a city and it was growing into a terrible trend. The more prominent you were, the higher up you lived. Being a “grounder” was déclassé these days and being a detective meant less than nothing to these people. To them, I was just another servant milling about so they did not have to dirty their shoes with the earth.

  “Maybe we should put our negro cop in the box until he coughs up the name of the killer.”

  I heard from behind us as we passed a pair of snickering black badge detectives. His partner laughed and chuckled as if he had just told the funniest joke of his life. Bobby tried to grab my arm, but I was already turning on the pair. I elbowed the snickering cop in the nose and I kicked behind the other one’s leg and pushed him off balance with my arm as I barred it over his throat. I rode him down to the metal ground of the skyline streetway.

  I straddled him, and he gagged as my arm barred his oxygen supply.

  “Because my partner is too nice a guy to put you down himself, it falls to me to do it for him. If I ever hear a whisper that suggests you have said anything derogatory or racist against my partner or any other colored man or woman, I will crush your tiny testicles until all your ammunition is empty for the rest of your life. Do I make myself clear?!”

  He looked at me defiantly and I smashed the meaty part of my left hand into his groin and he made a sound that was not too dissimilar from a stuck pig at the slaughterhouse. Finally, after a long moment whaling, he nodded and screamed, “Yes, I understand.”

  I leaned back onto his throat again and I locked my gaze with his.

  “Say you’re sorry and we can all be friends again.”

  He didn’t look the least bit sorry and his pained eyes spoke of unbridled rage just beneath the surface. I had made myself an enemy on the job today, but it was worth the damn point I was beating into this man.

  “Fine, I’m sorry.”

  I gritted my teeth and I hitched my other thumb over my back.

  “To him numb-nuts, not to me!”

  He looked at me in abject defiance for a moment, but then he huffed and looked at Bobby and said, “I’m sorry, Detective.”

  Bobby scooped me off the pained detective and lifted my one-forty-five like a sack of rice.

  “Come on now, or do you want to get yourself suspended?”

  He whispered into my ear with as much urgency as he could muster.

  “Dammit, why’d you have to go and do that again Julia?! I can fight my own battles!”

  I looked at him and I twisted free of his firm grip. Bobby was a very big man, if he was not always controlling his strength, his grip would have been very painful to me. This is the type of restrained giant of a man my partner was. He was gentle and caring and he hated to even harm a criminal.

  “You can handle things, yes, but you won’t handle them, Bobby. You are always worried that if you step a single toe out of line that you will lose your whole life. That you will suddenly not have a roof or food for your family. I do this for you because I love you like a brother!”

  Bobby’s fury cooled considerably at this and he gruffly grunted.

  “I’m a man Julia, men do not enjoy women fighting for them. You are the strongest gal I have ever met, but I can still handle my own fighting, even if I don’t know all your karate.”

  I sighed, and I leaned against the opposite wall.

  “Why don’t I treat you to another cup of joe and we call a truce?”

  He grinned at me and said, “You get the coffee and I’ll buy the submarines.”

  I nodded in agreement and like that our disagreement was resolved. This was about average with Bobby and me, we were very easily capable of working out our issues. Bobby loved my life like a little deranged white sister, but I could understand his point of view. Did that mean I would stop busting heads when people started calling him names? Hell, no!

  When we returned to the ground level, Bobby went off to Mamma Finkle’s Submarine Sandwiches and I went to the Nexus Coffee Star Café. Our divide and conquer approach was designed for a reason. Mamma Finkle was perhaps the first colored woman to own her own business in Nexus City. She made the most amazing six-inch long submarine sandwiches. They get their name from the similarity to the large tube-like submersible navy vessels.

  While white people are not at all unwelcome in her business, it might disrupt her customer’s evening if a female detective walked in. As you can imagine, most folks are not as keen on a detective strolling into their establishment of colored people. Bobby is one of the few to not only not fear the law, but to join them. Bobby is like a beacon of what could be for men of color. I just hoped to live to see the day where men and women were treated equally, and no one was ever judged by their color, religion, or their place of birth. As things stood, that was a long time coming and very slowly.

  Nexus Coffee Star Café was bustling with three levels and two separate massive service counters. Brewers were whipping up coffee as fast as people were drinking it down! The roasting beans tickled my nose as I stepped into the ground level. A man waved his hand and smiled in a friendly manner, seeing my badge, he allowed me to step in front of him in line. I nodded and thanked him in a friendly tone, before stepping up to the counter.

  I ordered Bobby’s beverage of choice and then I ordered a mocha-flavored coffee with milk for myself. The new flavored blends were becoming addictive and sensational. There was talk of opening more Nexus Coffee Star’s around the city and possibly expanding out further from there. I believed that the key to world domination might just be brewing a damn fine cup of joe! One day maybe the owner or his kids would be richer than the entire British government!

  The sound of boiling coffee and steam release valves was almost deafening. The roar of the crowd milling and conversing over hot beverages was even louder still. I put two copper coins down and nodded to the man and I walked over to wait for my coffee to be finished brewing.

  “Excuse me, miss”

  I looked up and the young gentleman from the line approached me. He was a few inches taller than me and had sandy colored hair and light brown eyes. I gave him a smile and I inclined my head slightly. He was handsome by any definition of the word, but I felt nothing in the way of attraction towards him. The young woman with the small child next to him, she was another matter, too bad she was clearly very married.

  “Sir, thank you for your courtesy earlier.”

  I spoke friendly, but I kept my tone crisp and business-like. As a female detective, I had to keep everything very cut-and-dry. I could not allow anyone to mistake my intentions or my tone of voice. Men were extremely suggestive creatures and even the slightest of misleading behavior could leave a single gal with a headache, also referred to as a potential suit
or. I had less than zero interest in such things.

  “Far be it from me to stand between a police lady and her coffee.”

  I snorted, and I pointed lazily to my black badge.

  “It’s detective, a police detective, sir.”

  My tone was still light, and I kept my body neutral and I was sure I sent zero signals for him to try to make any further advancements.

  “Right, forgive me. I am still adjusting to the new ways of our fast and busy world.”

  Yes, I am not fat and pregnant in my husband’s cave like a good woman should be.

  I mused to myself and I gave him a passive smile.

  “Yes, the world is constantly changing these days. Again, thank you for your kindness, sir.” I tipped my head curtly and I walked over to the counter and managed to snag my drinks. The man looked frustrated and confused like I had just done something perplexing by walking away from him. I would never understand men, even the one man that I did like once.

  Seven:

  Bobby was waiting for me with a nice diced steak submarine and crispy potato fries. We did not always eat in a manner that modern doctors claimed was healthy for us but being detectives, we had to grab food where we could. I spent a lot of time in the department training facilities to make up for my questionable meal choices.

  We enjoyed our meal under the scrutiny of several gawking well-dressed house-wives. Many people stared at Bobby and me when we moved through the city. Heavens forbid a pretty white thing like me has lunch with a man of color! It was enough to make me very sassy and I would shoot challenging looks at the passersby. Many looked visibly relieved when they saw our black badges as if that made us fraternizing somewhat acceptable.

  “I swear, it’s like these nosy little wankers think they have some right to insert themselves into our lives!”

  I murmured in a frustrated tone, and Bobby just shrugged and kept tossing potato-wedge crisps into his mouth.

  “Eat, stop glaring at the locals, you might end up sending one to the hospital under the heat of those gazes, Julia.”

  I snorted derisively, and I shrugged.

  “I make no apologies for who I am or my seeming lack of ‘common civility’ where these blokes are concerned.”

  Bobby waved his free hand in a wide swishing motion.

  “Look, you giving them this much power over your mood is just not healthy for you. Hells, you think I let these folks get under my skin? They’ve been at it since I was a kid. I’m a married adult and these fellas still call me ‘boy’ don’t you think I want to haul off and slug them sometimes?”

  I looked up at Bobby, he was smiling his good-ole-boy smile. I let my shoulders sag.

  “Sorry Bobby, you must say many a prayer to your Britannia god to give you the patience to deal with me.”

  Bobby nodded solemnly and said, “Not gonna deny the truth, but there is no one I would rather have firing a hand-cannon at my side or to get my back.”

  I snorted, Bobby had been trying to get me to switch to the new nine-millimeter pistol with the eight-round ammunition clips. I had grown used to the kick of my long-barrel .357 magnum and I might have slower reload times, but one shot from this would drop any man. That new nine-millimeter could fire more shots, but your target might be able to shrug off a single shot, or at least they might still be dangerous after being hit once. Back in Westwood City, the large-caliber revolver is still the king of all close-range weapons.

  “I did switch to the new rifle for distance shooting. If anyone gets too close, then this ole gal will take care of them.”

  I pat my side affectionately and Bobby shook his head slowly.

  “Sometimes I wonder about you, Julia.”

  Bobby said it with worry in his tone. I smiled up at him between bites and I gave a wink laced with playful moxie. It caused a few passersby to huff irritable, mistaking my banter for flirtation. I rolled my eyes as they passed and resisted the urge to give them the southern-one-finger-salute. I’m pretty sure I can be docked a paycheck for that gesture, assuming I was reported for it while on duty.

  “Yeah, well you know me, Bobby, I’ll be controversial until the day I die in a blaze of glory.”

  Bobby looked concerned since he knew me well enough to know I meant what I said. This might not be Westwood City, but police officers died in gunfights all the time here. The casket makers were kept busy with the business of crime, even if it was as often to fit a cop for their pine box.

  “Maybe if you found yourself,” He leaned in closer and dropped his voice, “A good gal, then you would hopefully find a new lease on life.”

  I grinned, and I leaned in slightly closer, drawing, even more, glares and curious gawkers attention. Several men were looking at Bobby hotly and one woman even shielded her ten-year-olds’ eyes, as if we were about to strip and romp right on the wood picnicking table.

  “I found the right girl, then she dumped me for a penis.”

  Bobby frowned and shook his head.

  “You know I don’t get into it about Jasmine, Julia. That gal had little choice, besides, she was nearly disowned over her relationship with you.”

  I huffed and shrugged slightly.

  “If they’re such fickle parents, then what’s it matter?! It’s not like they were going to throw her out. Jasmine has been living on her own since her university days. Besides, she was practically moved in with me!”

  Bobby said and held up his hand.

  “Forgive me, but you don’t have a clue about family, Julia. Your parents have been dead so long, it’s like you cannot recall how binding the word of a parent can be. Besides, you were both about to be publicly outed as lesbians. Don’t you ever think that Jasmine was trying to protect you?”

  I wanted to just toss my wrapper at his head and act like a petulant child, but Bobby’s words made sense, and like they often did, they hit home. I really hadn’t had any family in a long time, so did that mean I was insensitive to her needs?

  “Dammit Bobby, I hate when you’re all wise. That makes it impossible to hate you, or to shoot you!”

  Bobby chortled deeply, and he relaxed back in his wooden seat.

  “So glad that something can manage to penetrate that steel-trap you call a noggin.”

  He chuckled again, and I flashed him the southern salute where no one else could see my finger. He just kept laughing and shook his head slowly. After a long moment of lingering levity, we both seemed to remember our lunch. I had a lot of work to do today, and I needed to swing by my apartment and make sure that Avery was doing fine. She seemed like a savvy girl, but she was still a kid, so I was not inclined to forget about her.

  “So, you go check into the unlikely colored angle and I will start running down some leads of my own. We need to have a uniform check out the alibi of the husband of the sister and the ex-husband of the victim. I could sort of see an enraged ex-lover staging a corpse, but I’m not liking our chances of such luck.”

  Bobby looked at me for a second and his face spoke of unveiled confusion.

  “How in the seven hells is this lucky?”

  I shook my head and waved my half-eaten sub in his face.

  “No, no, I mean for this case, it would be immensely fortuitous for us, if this was a bizarre lover’s quarrel.”

  Bobby’s eyes widened, and his mouth made a wide O shape.

  “You think this is a series killer?”

  I nodded and said, “Serial killer, it’s what the head doctors are calling them. They say that anyone who kills in patterns with some strange fetish style execution is a totally different type of beast to track.”

  “They’re fucking sick as all seven hells, is what they are!”

  I nodded in agreement and added, “Yes, but they have some seemingly rational reason for what they do, or so I have read. If we have one of those on our hands, we will have to fucking figure out a lot of complex shit. I worked one that was a repeat of the White Chapel murders, it was ruthless. Pray to your Britannia god that we don’t ha
ve a new Jack on our hands!”

  Bobby nodded in agreement. Jack the Ripper had hit London hard and terrorized folks all the way to the Native American borders. Everyone was convinced he would strike anywhere, even Westwood City was freaked and they don’t freak easily! Westwood is more of a western justice type of city, meaning everyone is packing heat and no one is afraid to draw! Hell, the Brits in Westwood are some of the toughest in the empire. They are constantly skirmishing with the Native boarders and must be twice the men that their soft-handed dandy city bobbies are.

  “Would you please stop referring to Christ as, “the Britannia god.” He was the god long before they twisted scriptures to suit their ends!”

  Bobby said it with the stern conviction of a Southern Baptist who never misses a Sunday service or a church cook-out. Hell, if he tried to miss either, his wife and momma would be lining up to beat his hide bloody! I like his wife, even if I do think he basically married a young and attractive version of his own mother! (I wonder what the head doctors would make of this?”

  Bobby looked at me, he had that look on his face, the one that said he did not want to know where my fast mind had wondered off to. I bit into my sub and I began to figure out my day. I was going to notify the ex-husband of his wife’s death, then I was going to check on my new house-mate. Hopefully, Avery was getting along okay without me. I shouldn’t have felt so concerned for the little teen, but I couldn’t help myself! Avery was a smaller version of myself in so many ways! Instead of a nice detective lady picking me up, it was a local orphan crew. I would be damned if I was letting that sweet angel get mixed up with that type of crowd! Hopefully, she hadn’t run away and I could figure out what happened. Hopefully, she had some family somewhere, but I was fooling myself if I thought I was going to turn her out onto the street!

  At least with Avery occupying my mind, I had not been stewing on Jasmine nearly as much! Nor, had I picked up some experimental late-teen or worse, some needy married woman seeking out alternatives since her older husband had issues in the bedroom. The life of a modern lesbian is trying at the best of times! If only we could just flaunt our relationships in the open and not have to hide like spies in dark places, or in the seedy local pubs and brothels. Not that an upstanding law officer like myself would be caught dead in a damn brothel!