When he broke his promise of leaving the alcohol, for the eighth time, and tried to justify it with a nasty drunken conversation, he came home the next day to find her gone. As he drank alone in the dark night and passed out, he was clueless that that morning would be the last time he would ever see her. A week later, her lawyer sent him the papers, which he signed without protest. That was seven years ago.
Since he had no one to control him, his drinking became uninhibited. He’d turned into an alcoholic with a capital A. Seldom could he sleep without that intoxicating medicine, which brought him the rest that the dead had stolen. A month later, he began sleeping on curbs and bus stops. And in one unforgettable incident, he’d woken up inside a red-lighted bordello-like public toilet.
At that time, he believed his obsessions would leave him dead in the gutters. He didn’t care about the pain he would bring to his loved ones if he was hauled dead from a ditch, or got hashed in the subway tracks. Fear and shame, responsibility and regret, were not felt by someone who had devolved to that level of living.
That was until he finally poisoned himself with his quackery and landed in a hospital bed. His godmother, Rita Hughes, and his dad, Joshua Chase, intervened.
Joshua, a former homicide cop himself, was not a soft-spoken person like him. He called Gabriel a coward who couldn’t endure the job without the alcoholic solace. He said it would only hurt Gabriel’s brain and prevent him from functioning at his full capacity, which in turn would let more murderers roam free. Joshua saw the work of justice as martyrdom, and police, detectives, soldiers, and anyone who lost themselves to this cause as martyrs.
With the help of Joshua’s blunt truth, Rita’s motherly care, and plenty of supportive friends in Alcoholics Anonymous, Gabriel finally pulled away from the black hole which had almost destroyed him and crawled back to society. Within months, he proved his father wrong. He was capable of doing this work without alcohol. Not only did he work, but he excelled at it.
Finally he had learned that his cause—justice—was dynamic. He would try his best to solve a case, but the moment he realized it was impossible to crack, he would let go. And he didn’t fight the nightmares anymore. He accepted them as a sour part of his life.
Gabriel received a call from Liz a week after Mr. Bunny’s case was over. She wanted to know if he had relapsed and grabbed the bottle, because that case was personal and the most painful he had ever worked on. When he lied that he hadn’t slipped, she said she was proud of him and would like to meet sometime.
Even though she said it as a telephone etiquette before hanging up, Gabriel knew he would capitalize on it. And after Emma drove him from their meeting with Simmons and dropped him off at his apartment, he texted Liz and asked her out for an evening snack. She refused, stating that she was busy at work, but she agreed to go out on Sunday.
Now he was waiting in Katz’s Deli, the popular sandwich joint on the Lower East Side. He chose this place since it was close to Liz’s art gallery, and also because they used to go there when they were young.
Once again he reminded himself not to talk about her love life. Getting super-jealous was only half the reason. The other half was he had no stories to share. Gabriel had never dated anyone except Liz, and there was more to it than just his physical and emotional unavailability.
It was Gabriel who had choked Liz and forced her out of the marriage. If he couldn’t keep such a perfect and angelic woman in his life, how could he ever keep anyone else? He was not relationship material, so it was better not to ruin anyone’s time. After all, there was no such thing as a cured alcoholic. Mr. Bunny’s case had shown him that.
The restaurant’s doorbell chimed, and he knew it was Liz before looking up. She apologized profusely as she sat in the opposite chair, though it was Gabriel who had arrived way early. He tended to be awkward whenever he did something that involved Liz.
She was wearing jeans and a black long-sleeved T-shirt. A blue shawl was wrapped around her neck, and a green bangle dangled from her slender wrist. Her curly tresses drooped over her shoulders and breasts, resembling a black waterfall cascading down the most elegantly shaped rocks. Except for the nail polish and mascara, she hadn’t put on any makeup. She was one of those women who didn’t depend on a skimpy wardrobe or cartoony animal faces to amass likes on FB and Instagram. Her intrinsic beauty, which Liz attributed to her grandmother’s Russian heritage, always astonished him.
The sweet scent wafting from her, across the table, elated Gabriel and ripped apart his weak guise of composure. It excavated memories of long French kisses they’d begun stealing from the time they were teens. Nothing instigated nostalgia as much as the sense of smell did.
“I see you’ve bought the tickets,” Liz said.
“Huh?” Gabriel clasped his wet hands together on the table.
In his years as an NYPD detective, he had seen things that surpassed macabre. His heart had numbed so much that it no longer believed in wonder. Yet when he saw Liz that evening, his tough, world-weary personality melted away, leaving behind a high school boy battling puberty. She brought hope and suffused meaning to life.
“The coupons?” Liz looked at his hands and lifted her eyebrows.
“Oh, yeah, yeah, I did.” Gabriel nodded and smiled, which felt alien.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled from his heart.
“I’ll go buy the sandwiches?”
“Let’s both go.” She got up.
He walked alongside her, unsure what to say. When they reached the counter, he placed a tip between the dampened tickets and handed it to a server. The server rubbed the honing steel and knife, and started working on their meal.
“What’d you get?” Liz said.
“Corned beef and pastrami.”
“On rye?”
“On rye.” Gabriel nodded.
“Yum.” Liz smacked her tongue.
Gabriel nodded again. He reached into his pocket with cold fingers and pulled the inhaler out.
“Oh. My. God.” She touched her chest in a mock surprise. “You still haven’t let it go?”
Gabriel gulped and put it back without using it.
She jabbed on his shoulder. “Why are you so tight? Loosen up.”
“I’m not tight. It feels so… I don’t know. I feel good.”
“And it is a strange feeling.”
“Yes… yes, it is.” Gabriel laughed nervously.
Following tradition, the server gave them each a piece of smoked meat while preparing the order. It was delicious and awoke Gabriel’s taste buds from their hibernation.
“You look a lot better than the last time I saw you.” Liz chewed open-mouthed.
“Thanks. You look great, too.”
Liz was seven months younger than him, but looked a decade younger.
The server placed her sandwich on the counter. She collected it and offered Gabriel a bite. He took it. She eyed the sandwich that had been reduced substantially.
“I forgot not to share food with you.”
“I’m sorry. I can get a new—”
“Come on, Gabe. I was just teasing.”
As the server placed Gabriel’s order on the counter, Liz had already finished hers and ordered another.
“How’s work?” he said, when they sat at the table with their second sandwiches.
“You know. The usual. Selling paintings to rich people. Two others partnered with me, and we’re planning to rename the gallery.” She took a huge bite. “And yours? I still can’t believe Noah was a drug dealer. Is it true that he killed Casey?”
“It is.” Gabriel sighed. “I wish I could tell you I always thought there was something off about Noah. That he was a weirdo. But… but… he seemed so normal. I could have never guessed it in a million years.” He shook his head in disdain.
“My god. I’m really sorry to hear that, Gabe.” She inched her hand towards his, but stopped. “You lost three people to that case. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what you’r
e going through.”
Gabriel’s gaze focused on something far away. “Don’t you think it would be a lot easier if we cops could spot killers just from their looks? I wish I could do that.”
Seeing the sadness in him, she said, “While we are talking about superpowers, have you seen Captain Marvel?”
It took him a few seconds to recover from the change of topic, but he was thankful for it.
“Captain Marvel? You mean, if I’ve read Captain Marvel?”
“No, I meant watched. Are you living under a rock, Gabe? You know, the Avengers? The superhero movie franchise?”
“Oh.”
He had heard about them, but he preferred video games and animated TV shows to movies.
“Oh? Let’s go watch it now. I haven’t seen it yet, and all my friends have. They’re douchebags. They will definitely spoil it if I go with them. I knew you wouldn’t have watched it.”
“I haven’t.”
She crushed the sandwich wrapper, tossed it in a bin, and pulled out a key holder from her handbag.
“So, let’s go. If you’re free, that is.”
Gabriel nodded. He was free for the foreseeable future, but Liz didn’t need to know that.
“Then hurry and finish your food, Mr. Nod-a-Lot, and get a move on.”
Gabriel smiled again, almost nodded, and got up.
The evening had become more thrilling by the second. After a long time, he was having fun. Maybe he would leave his work and live with Liz, happily ever after. Maybe that year, it would rain diamonds.
Chapter 16
April 7, 2019. 11:49 P.M.
From Katz’s, they drove Liz’s Audi to AMC Empire in Manhattan. After the movie, she dropped him back at the restaurant and made him promise they would go see Avengers: Endgame when it hit the theaters.
Now Gabriel was riding his Kawasaki back home, smiling at random intervals, like a teenager whose first date had gone superb.
When he turned onto his cul-de-sac, he spotted a red Accord at the end, in front of his building. Emma was sitting on its hood, and Bill stood beside her with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder.
On seeing his motorcycle, Emma slid down. Gabriel parked near them and pulled off the helmet.
“What are you two doing here?”
“I tried calling you, Detective Chase, but you didn’t answer. So I went to Emma’s.”
“Yeah, I saw.” Gabriel got down. “I was at the movies.”
“I thought it was just grabbing a snack.” Emma raised an eyebrow.
“So did I.” Gabriel fought down a smile.
“What movie?” Bill said.
“Mother of god! Do my eyes deceive me?” Emma said. “You’re blushing?”
“Captain Marvel.” Gabriel cleared his throat. “No, I’m not blushing. I’m over Liz.”
“Uh-huh… sure,” Emma said.
“Is it still in theaters?” Bill said.
“Endgame is going to be released later this month. It’s a good marketing strategy to run their previous franchise in theaters before its opening night,” Gabriel said, citing Liz.
“Detective Chase is talking about movies. This is weird, Em.”
Bill turned to her for affirmation, but Emma stared him down and gnashed her teeth.
“I don’t think you two are here to discuss movies at this time of the night,” Gabriel said.
“You know what this renegade did?” Emma said.
Strangely, Bill didn’t retort. Instead, he looked up and scratched the underside of his chin.
“What?” Gabriel said.
“He broke into Simmons’s house and stole his laptop.”
Bill lifted a finger. “Well… technically, I didn’t. I just—”
“Shut up, you stupid dildo.” Emma smacked him on the back of his head.
* * *
Gabriel invited them up to his apartment, which was just one room with a kitchen and bathroom. He told them to treat themselves to whatever was in the fridge, which amounted to water, eggs, cheese, onions, and peppers. After he went to the bathroom and freshened up, he had Bill elaborate.
Bill confessed that he’d incited someone called Jamal, one of his snitches, to break into Simmons’s house. Apparently Jamal had turned a new leaf when he became a dad, but he’d stolen the laptop for Bill because he had owed some favor. Listening to all this seemed to further fuel Emma’s snit.
Gabriel understood her well-founded anger, but he couldn’t reprimand Bill. That would be hypocritical, because present-day Bill equaled old-time Gabriel. He had numerous precedents to prove to Emma that actions similar to Bill’s that night were sometimes unavoidable. But he would never say this in Bill’s presence, so he didn’t get involved as Emma continued to chastise the young cop.
“And how do you even know this is going to help us?” she yelled at Bill.
“You and Detective Chase said that Simmons sent Noah some kind of list from which he picked his student.”
“So?”
“These days, who goes through the trouble of printing dozens of papers, packing them, jotting addresses on envelopes, buying stamps, and mailing them? It’s easier to use email.”
Gabriel agreed. The law firm Simmons half-owned was one of the most popular in the Bronx. It dealt with a large number of criminals. If Simmons had given Noah a list of clients who had employed them to file petitions for expungement, then the list would be enormous. Also, Noah would have liked his choices extensive. It made more sense to assume that Simmons had sent it via the Internet, rather than printing a small book and mailing it.
“He’s got a point, Em.” Gabriel explained his hypothesis. “And there’s one last reason why Simmons couldn’t have mailed it. The contents are far too important to be misdelivered or lost.”
“What if Noah met Simmons in person and got the list?” Emma said.
Gabriel shrugged. “Then we’re screwed. We can only work with what we got. However I don’t think Noah would have met Simmons.”
“Why?”
“Remember I checked each and every number in Noah’s call history, dating back to 2016. Nothing linked to a defense lawyer or a law firm.”
“Yeah, you’ve said.”
“Noah made the transaction as impersonal as possible, never risking culpability. So it makes sense to imagine that he would have preferred email rather than meeting Simmons in person.”
Emma seemed to relax. “What now?”
Their collective attention turned to the HP laptop, which Bill removed from the messenger bag and placed on top of it.
“It’s password-protected,” he said. “I don’t think we can hack it.”
“We can’t.” Gabriel pulled his phone out of his jeans. “But we know someone who can.”
Chapter 17
April 8, 2019. 01:02 A.M.
Detective David Gustavo was a homicide cop who had also worked in Computer Crimes. He specialized in collecting evidence from CCTV, phones, computers, and almost everything electronic.
Unlike the trio, their computer wizard wasn’t from Staten Island. But Gabriel urged him to come ASAP. The laptop was stolen property, and no one should have it near them a second longer than necessary. David whined, but agreed to help.
An hour later, he knocked on Gabriel’s door, wearing a backpack.
“Why am I here in the middle of the night?”
“Do you want me to answer that and make you complicit?” Gabriel motioned him in.
“Forget that I asked.” David lifted his palms and stepped in.
Gabriel guided him to the table the laptop was on. “Hack this.”
“I’ll try.” David sat on a wooden chair, the only chair Gabriel owned, then put the bag on his thighs and rummaged inside. “By the way, this is the first time I’ve been to your… hovel. Aren’t you gonna offer me something?”
“I have water.”
“Stingy asshole.” David pulled a charger cable and flash drive from the bag and connected them to the laptop.
/> Both devices looked strange. They had been altered. Then he switched on the computer.
“While this is booting up, tell me what I’m looking for.”
Gabriel took the inhaler out and got a dose of cool menthol in his lungs. Then he told David that he wanted him to find a list in it.
“I’ll see what I can do.” David yawned and popped his knuckles.
Gabriel ambled to the bed and sat beside Emma. Bill was on her other side, slouching back on the wall and scrolling on his cell phone.
“Goddamn loser,” Emma muttered, her eyes glued to her phone.
Bill paused. “What? Oh, let it go al—”
“Shut up.” She looked Bill in the eye. “You lost the right to talk to me the minute you decided to break into the house of a fucking defense lawyer!” Emma turned her attention back to Twitter, and mumbled, “Dumbass.”
Bill nibbled on his lower lip.
“Breaking in?” David said. “You guys are still cops, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, right.” Emma scoffed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” David said.
Gabriel subtly shook his head at her, and Emma kept quiet. David didn’t need to know that Bill and Gabriel weren’t NYC’s finest anymore. He might refuse to help them. Thankfully David didn’t linger on the subject. He was lost in the world of keystrokes and binary codes.
Minutes later, David said, “I bypassed the computer’s security. Illegally, no less. But I can’t do the same for the emails.”
Gabriel got up and walked over to the table. “Then how are we going to access the Sent folder? That’s the priority.”
“I just clearly stated I wouldn’t be able to do that…” David leaned forward, frowned, and concentrated on the bottom corner of the screen.
“What?” Gabriel said.
“You are one lucky bastard.” David turned the laptop toward Gabriel. “You see this pop-up here?” His ragged yellow-stained fingernail hovered beside the laptop’s digital clock.
Inhuman: Detective Chase hunts an animal who protects his own Page 10