Blood and Justice

by Rayven T. Hill

  “Police. Stop.”

  He looked over his shoulder as he ran toward the neighbor’s property. A cop was leveling a gun at him. He didn’t stop. He felt sore all over and a little dazed by the blow to the head, but he continued to run.

  He glanced over his shoulder again. The cop was running too, two of them now, and gaining on him.

  He rounded the neighbor’s house and headed for the street. The cops followed, ordering him to stop.

  The police car was parked at the curb in front of the house. He dashed toward it, and whipped open the door. The keys were in it. He jumped in, started it up, and sped away, the driver’s side door swinging on its hinges as he careened down the street.

  In the rear view mirror, he could see the cops, still chasing him on foot. He chuckled. He took a left at the intersection without looking, bumped over a curb, and spun back onto the asphalt.

  Main Street was straight ahead, so he gunned it. He touched the brake to avoid a pick-up truck as he spun through the red light, making a left onto Main. The truck whipped around, tires squealing, and came to an abrupt stop, its wheels plowing sideways into the curb.

  Benny stomped on the gas pedal again.

  Dead ahead, right out of nowhere, a cruiser was sitting at right angles on the street, blocking his path. He slammed on the brakes. His car spun sideways, did a bit of a hop, and then plowed broadside into the tail end of the cruiser.

  He could see two armed cops in front of the other cruiser as he kicked the door open and tumbled to the street. They yelled at him to stop as he staggered and made tracks the other way.

  He was tired and sore, and did his best to make his getaway, but it was not to be.

  He was brought crashing to the asphalt as he was overtaken and tackled from behind. One cop sat on his back; the other one had his gun pointed toward his head. His hands were expertly cuffed behind him, and he was dragged roughly to his feet.

  They threw him over the hood of the smashed cruiser, and searched him. They relieved him of the knife found in his pants pocket, and then dug into the pockets of his overcoat.

  “Well, well, well, looky here,” one of the cops said. “He has a jewelry store in his pocket.”

  The other cop laughed.

  Benny just scowled.

  He was sore all over, and bending over the hood, hands secured behind his back, just made it worse. Right now, he just wanted to be tossed into the holding cell where he could get a bit of rest.

  In a couple of minutes, another cruiser pulled up. A cop jumped out and opened the back door.

  “Watch your head.”

  Benny didn’t think another knock on the head would make much of a difference, but he watched his head anyway, as he was helped into the cruiser. The door slammed shut behind him.

  He laid his head back and closed his eyes. Now he felt better.

  Chapter 40

  Monday, August 15th, 10:15 AM

  JEREMY WAS NOT a happy camper as he jumped into his vehicle and headed home.

  He always carried his trusty knife with him, strapped to his leg, and he was wishing now he had sliced old MacKay’s throat with it. That would teach him a lesson. Or maybe he should just drive home, grab his gun, and shoot the top off his bald head. He deserved it.

  He continued muttering and cursing as he drove down Main Street. Traffic was slow. He could see some red lights blinking up ahead. As he drew closer, he saw three cop cars parked in the middle of the road. It appeared two had been in an accident.

  Stupid cops. Don’t they know how to drive?

  He inched forward. One cop was directing traffic, but it was still slow going.

  He wanted to shoot them, too. He was mad at the world and hated everybody that got in his way.

  As he was directed past the scene of the accident, he could see some old man in the back of one of them. He looked like he was sleeping.

  Finally, he made it through the mass of cars, and sped up again. He ran through a late orange at the next intersection and pulled a quick left. Five minutes later, he was speeding along County Road 12, bumping over potholes and bulging pavement, as he made his way home.

  He peeked up at Jenny’s window as he crunched over the gravel of his driveway. He saw her appear at the window. Probably heard him coming. He parked in his usual spot by the front door, and climbed from the vehicle.

  He wasn’t sure what to do. He had no job, and a whole day ahead of him. He didn’t think much of his prospects of finding a job any time soon. Tomorrow he would have to look, though. Maybe his former idiot boss would give him a recommendation, if he asked nicely. Or, if he stuck his pistol down his throat.

  He unlocked the front door of the house, and went straight through into the mudroom at the back. He grabbed a basket of gardening hand tools off of the bench, and went out the back door.

  Maybe he would work in his garden for a while. That always calmed him down.

  Monday, August 15th, 10:20 AM

  ANNIE PASTED a stamp on the last envelope, ready to mail. She had filled out a few invoices for clients, and paid a stack of bills. She stuffed them into her handbag and stood up from her desk.

  She clicked off the computer monitor, dug her key ring out of her handbag, and made her way out the front door, locking up behind.

  Her Escort chugged a little as she touched the gas. She sighed. Time for a tune-up, I guess. She stopped at the corner and dumped the mail into a big red mailbox on the corner, and sped away.

  Traffic on Main Street was a little slow. A couple of tow trucks were busy towing away a police car, and one lane was blocked in either direction.

  Her cell rang as she was stopped in traffic. It was Jake. “Hi, Honey,” she said.

  “I just left the high school. No luck there, but I just wanted to let you know, I’m going to drop by and see Hank at the cop shop for a few minutes. I should still be home by noon though.”

  “Ok,” she said.

  “Where are you now?” he asked.

  “Just on my way to Mortinos to talk to Jeremy. Stuck in traffic right now, though.”

  “Traffic?”

  “Yeah, a police car. I don’t know what happened. They’re towing it away now.”

  “Ok, see you soon.”

  They said goodbye and she hung up.

  Traffic started to move again and she finally got past the obstruction. In a few minutes, she pulled into the parking lot at Mortinos.

  Once inside the store, she checked up and down a few aisles, looking for Jeremy. She didn’t see him. Perhaps he’s out on a delivery. She made her way to the back of the store, and approached the manager’s office.

  She tapped on MacKay’s door. There was no answer. She wandered around the store until she finally saw him, straightening up some boxes of cereal on an overloaded shelf.

  “Good morning, Mr. Mackay,” she said cheerily.

  MacKay stopped straightening and glanced over his shoulder. He smiled when he saw Annie. “Good morning,” he said, as he turned around.

  “I’m Annie Lincoln...”

  “Yes, I remember you. And Jake. He was in here on Saturday to pick up some surveillance tapes. Were they helpful at all?”

  “They did shed a little light on things. It may be too early to tell yet.”

  “It’s a real shame about what’s going on in this town right now. My wife is a little nervous about the whole thing. I told her not to worry. Just be careful, and she’ll be all right, I told her.”

  Annie agreed. “The police and the feds are on top of this. I’m sure they will catch him soon. And we’re doing what we can as well, on behalf of a client.”

  MacKay nodded, and smiled. “So, what may I do for you today?”

  “As you know, the first victim’s body was found along County Road 12. One of your workers, Jeremy Spencer, lives out near there, and I was hoping to talk to him, and see if he heard, or saw, anything. I didn’t seem to see him around here, though.”

  MacKay frowned. “Unfortunately, I had to
let him go this morning.”

  Annie raised her brows. “Oh, that’s too bad.”

  “Yes it is. I felt a little bad about it, but, well...” He paused, and shrugged his shoulders. “You know how it is.”

  Annie nodded. “Perhaps I can catch him at home. Thanks Mr. MacKay.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, as he turned back to the shelf.

  Annie looked at her watch. She had a few things she needed to buy, so she should grab what she needed now. There was nothing perishable, so she wouldn’t have to drop them home first. She could head straight out to Jeremy’s place, and should be home by noon.

  Chapter 41

  Monday, August 15th, 10:25 AM

  “HE’S HERE!”

  Hank leaned back in his chair and looked sideways at Officer Spiegle. He frowned. “Who’s here, Yappy?”

  “The guy I saw.”

  “What guy?”

  “The guy in the car.”

  Hank swung his chair around. “Yappy,” he said calmly, “what car?”

  “The stolen car,” Yappy said impatiently.

  Hank shook his head in frustration. “We get stolen cars in here all the time. What’s so special about this one?”

  “The guy that ran the car into the bush. You know, he stole that dead guys car.”

  Hank sat forward. “Are you telling me the guy who had Bronson’s car, is here?”

  “Yes, yes, he’s here!”

  Hank stood up. “And you’re sure it’s him?”

  “Yes, yes, I’m sure.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s in the holding cell.”

  Hank turned to Jake, who was sitting on the other side of the desk. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  Hank brushed past Yappy and strode across the precinct.

  The holding cells were downstairs, and Yappy followed Hank down. An officer opened a secure door and let them into the hallway.

  There were six holding cells, three on each side of the passageway. Prisoners were held here awaiting arraignment, or temporarily before transport to prison, or sometimes just as an overnight ‘drunk tank’.

  Benny was in the second cell on the left. Hank followed Yappy to the cell. Yappy pointed through the bars.

  Benny was flat on his back, on an uncomfortable woven metal bed. He was sound asleep, his shoe tucked under his head, serving as a pillow, his arms folded in front of him. His snoring filled the room.

  “That’s him,” Yappy said.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yup.”

  Hank turned without a word and went to the central control room. It was staffed by deputies in the holding cell area.

  He spoke to one of the deputies. “The prisoner in 2. What do you have on him?”

  The deputy picked up a stack of papers, leafed through them and selected one. “Benjamin Flanders. Fifty-eight years old. Not arraigned yet. Arrested and charged for break and enter, car theft, and other charges pending.” He handed the paper to Hank.

  Hank looked it over briefly and handed it back. “Get me a copy of this, and get the prisoner up to interview room #1, will you?”

  The deputy nodded. “Right away.” He turned around. The photocopier hummed for a minute, and then the deputy handed Hank a sheet of paper.

  Hank took the paper and went back up the steps to his desk. He looked around. Jake was talking to a couple of cops over near the water cooler.

  Jake glanced over as Hank approached.

  “They’re bringing him up to the interview room. You may watch through the glass if you want,” Hank said.

  Jake nodded. “That would be great.”

  It would take a few minutes to rouse Benny and get him upstairs. They waited until the deputy signaled the prisoner was ready.

  Jake followed Hank down a short hall, and through a door. They entered a small room containing only a desk and three or four chairs. The far wall was largely a two-way mirror. Jake could see an adjoining room through the glass. He took a seat as Hank went through a door beside the glass, and into the connected room.

  The interview room was a small, soundproofed area, with only three chairs, two on the near side, and one on the other, facing the mirror. There was a metal desk between. The room was brightly lit, with barren, blank walls, except for a small camera in one top corner.

  Benny was on the far side, facing the mirror, his hands cuffed to a ring on the table. He sat up straight in the uncomfortable chair, a sullen look on his face. He looked up as Hank entered.

  Hank pointed to the empty chair. “Mind if I sit?” he asked.

  Benny just stared.

  “May I call you Benny?”

  Benny nodded slightly.

  Hank pulled the chair back and sat down. He consulted the paper, and then leaned in. “You’re in a bit of trouble here,” he said.

  The prisoner didn’t say anything.

  “I’d like to help you if I can.”

  No response.

  Hank looked back at the paper. “They have you here for break and enter, grand theft, car theft, failure to obey a lawful order, assault on an police officer, and a whole host of traffic violations.” Hank looked up and whistled. “Looks like you’re going away for a long, long, time.”

  Benny frowned. “I didn’t do none of that.”

  “Benny, Benny. This is all solid. We have witnesses for everything here.” Hank consulted the paper again. Who’s the judge going to believe? The cops, or a man who has a pretty long record already?”

  Benny shrugged and looked away.

  “I can make some of this go away,” Hank said.

  Benny looked back at Hank. His face showed a brief flicker of interest.

  “Are you interested?”

  “Maybe.”

  “But you have to help me a bit.”

  “Help you how?” Benny mumbled.

  Hank sat back. “A few days ago, last Wednesday actually, you were driving a white 2008 Toyota Tercel. An officer, Officer Spiegle, saw you. He chased you and witnessed you crash the vehicle, then run away.”

  “Weren’t me.”

  “Come on Benny. We know it was you. We have you cold here. The witness was a cop.”

  Benny was silent for a moment, and then asked, “What about it?”

  “All I want to know is where you found the vehicle. You tell me that, and we will forget you stole it, or you ever saw it.”

  Benny considered that. “What about them other charges. The break and enter and stuff?”

  “I can’t do anything about the B&E, but the theft of the officer’s vehicle, I can get that reduced to public mischief, and make all the traffic violations go away.”

  “What about the assault?”

  “What assault?”

  Benny looked around the room, at the ceiling, at Hank, at the floor. He seemed to be thinking, but said nothing.

  “It’s a good deal, Benny,” Hank urged.

  Benny looked at Hank and nodded slightly. “Ok, then. If you do what you just said, I’ll tell you.” He paused. “I’ll tell you ‘bout the car, but I ain’t gonna admit none o’ that other stuff till I see a lawyer.”

  A lawyer couldn’t get him off of the B&E charges, so Hank was satisfied with that. He nodded, and leaned in. “That’s fine. Ok, go ahead Benny.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me exactly how and where you found the car.”

  “Well, I was just out for a walk, see. And I seen this car parked, and the keys were in it, so I just decided to take it for a little ride. Didn’t really steal it.”

  “I know Benny. You just took it for a joyride. But where did you find it?” he urged.

  “It were in the parking lot over at Walmart.”

  Hank leaned back. “Excellent Benny. Now can you tell me what part of the lot you found it in?”

  “Right near the back row. Over by where people shove the grocery carts in when they’re done with ‘em.”

  “And the car wasn’t locked?”<
br />
  “Nope.”

  “And the keys were in it?”

  “Yup.”

  “Anything else you can tell me?”

  Benny thought a minute. “Well, I had to move the seat way back just to get in.”

  “Did you take anything from the vehicle when you left it?”

  “Nope. Weren’t nothin’ worth taking.”

  Hank leaned back and folded his arms. “I think that’s all Benny. You’ve been a big help.”

  “So you’ll do what you said? Make them charges go away?”

  “Don’t worry Benny. I’ll do exactly like I said.” He stood up and went through the door to the viewing room. He sat down beside Jake.

  “Very interesting,” Jake said.

  “Yes, it is. It appears the killer tried to hide Bronson’s vehicle in plain sight.”

  Jake nodded. “Now we just have to figure out what this all means.”

  “Yeah.”

  Chapter 42

  Monday, August 15th, 10:30 AM

  ONE CAN ONLY work in a garden for so long. There is a limited amount of weeds to pull, and one can soon run out of rows to hoe.

  It had kept Jeremy busy for some time, however, but he still felt rejected, and dejected. He was still mad at the world.

  Whenever he felt this way in the past, he would talk to Mother. She would always have a sympathetic word or two, maybe a hug, and always made him feel better.

  But she was long gone. She had left him to fend for himself. He adored Father, but he was gone as well. All he could hope to do was carry on Father’s work. Doing his part to rid the world of scum. That was important, yes, but he needed a job as well.

  He swore and threw the hoe across the garden, mashing one of his prize tomato plants. He didn’t care. He lay down on the grass and looked up at the sky. The clouds moved gently across the endless expanse, drifting from one horizon to the other, without a care in the world.