Silent Crime

by W L Knightly

  “Well, excuse my insensitivity, but it was the best way to tell you what was up.” He led her up the stairs and to Scratch’s door where he knocked.

  Jake could hear rustling in the house and an occasional bump of things being moved around. “Scratch?”

  Suddenly, there was a sound against the door. “What you want, Jake?”

  “I need to talk to you, Scratch.”

  “Now’s not a good time, Jake. Who’s that you got with you?”

  “That’s why I came by. I wanted to catch up and introduce you to my new partner.”

  “I don’t want to meet no one today, Jake. You go on and ask her to leave, and then I’ll open the door.”

  Jake turned and gave a shrug. “Sorry. I need to talk to him. Could you go and wait in the car?”

  Her eyes went wide. “Are you serious? He needs to get used to me if we’re going to work together.”

  “Look, there’s the possibility that Scratch won’t help you. You’ll have to make your own connections. But if I don’t go in and see what’s being said on the streets, no one else is going to tell me.”

  “Fine,” Jo said, already turned around and headed down the first few steps. “But hurry up please.”

  Jake waited until she was down the stairs, and then just as he was about to knock, the door opened up a crack. “Did you get rid of that lady?”

  “Yeah,” said Jake. “She’s a nice lady too. You’d have liked her.”

  He shook his head as he stepped aside. “I can’t have no woman cop around here. People will talk.”

  “That’s why I’m here. I wanted to tell you that I’ll be leaving the force before too long.”

  “You’re quitting?” The man stepped back into his house and held the door for Jake.

  “Well, I’m fully vested, and I thought it was just time to start living.” Jake walked in thinking the place was a lot worse than usual. Instead of sitting, he stood near a chair as Scratch plopped down on the tattered sofa.

  “With you gone, there’s going to be a whole lot of people dying,” said Scratch, shaking his head. “I don’t like it.” His one good eye was so brown it was almost black. The other, a dead hazy orb, was blue, the skin marred around it.

  Jake gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll still come by and see you. But first, I have another case I’m on, and I needed to see if you know anything about it.”

  “You come to ask me about that dead cop and the prosecutor, didn’t you?” Scratch had a way of knowing things before Jake could tell him.

  “Yeah. So, what do you know? You’re bound to have heard something.”

  “Oh no, you don’t. You’re not getting anything out of me until you agree to play checkers.”

  “Checkers?” Scratch always talked him into cards or checkers and the occasional game of dominoes. “Okay, if that’s what you want.” He knew that the guy didn’t have many visitors, and he could at least play a quick game. He also knew better than to waste time arguing. “As long as it doesn’t take all day.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll beat your ass before we’re done.” He gave a chuckle, reached beside him, and brought out a tiny checkerboard, the kind used for travel, and a plastic baggy that held the tiny checkers.

  As they set up the game, Jake asked his first question. “So, what’s being said about the victims? Have you heard anything about Elliot Gaines or Hayden Daniels?”

  “Gaines. I know not many people are upset that helmet-haired white man is dead. Some actually think it’s funny. But the cop? That one, they’re really happy he’s gone.” He made the first move.

  “And why is that? Because he was a cop?” Jake knew a lot of that side of the community didn’t like cops in general. He made his move on the board, hoping to lose as fast as he could.

  “Because he was a dirty cop.” He made another move forward and smiled, showing his chipped tooth.

  “And what do you know about that?” Jake made another move forward, giving Scratch a double-jump opportunity.

  “Plenty,” he said, jumping Jake’s checkers. He put them in his pile and laughed. “You know how it is, Jake. I sit on my stairs and watch. I ride my bike down the street and hang out and listen. Everyone loves me, tells me things. They think I’m too stupid to remember or care, so they talk freely around me.”

  “And what did they say?” He moved his piece into another vulnerable position.

  “They said,” he made his move, “that you suck at checkers.” He burst out laughing.

  “Seriously? Come on, Scratch, tell me.”

  “Give me a minute, man. You cops, always in a damned hurry. I heard that Officer Daniels and that new guy, the rookie?” He looked at Jake as if he needed to know if he was listening.

  “Yes, there’s a new man on the force. His name is Lang.”

  “That’s it. Lang. Boy, they don’t like him either. He and Daniels shook down a couple of kids and took their drugs.”

  “They arrested them?”

  “No, but they threatened to do it again.” He jumped more of Jake’s checkers. “King me.”

  Jake looked down and realized he only had one checker left on the board. The man had already eliminated the others. “Why didn’t they arrest the kids, Scratch? Did anyone say?”

  “Rumor is that Hayden’s been taking the drugs and selling them himself.”

  “Are any others involved?” Where there was one dirty cop, there was another one who knew about it.

  “I’m sure there is, but I don’t know any names.”

  Jake made his last move. “Someone is killing people, Scratch. Do you know anything else about those murders?”

  “Nope, done told you all I know, and…” He jumped Jake’s last man. “I just whipped your ass.”

  “That you did.” He got to his feet.

  Scratch got up from where he sat and followed Jake to the door. “I did hear some talk the other day about someone trying to clean up the streets. There’s a man named Tanner. He lived a block over, and he works at the construction yard. He knows a lot more about the killings than anyone else I’ve heard talking. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

  “Thanks, Scratch.”

  “Thank you for letting me win,” he said, giving Jake a sly smile as he showed him out.

  “I’ll see you around.” Jake walked away knowing Scratch was still watching him, and he gave another nod to him as he got in the car, where Jo was reading over the letter from the killer.

  “Well?” she asked as he put on his seatbelt.

  “Sorry it took so long. We played a quick game of checkers, and he gave me another name. We need to look for a man named Tanner. He works out at the construction yard. He also gave me some interesting information about Hayden Daniels. Hayden was taking drugs off the streets and putting them into his own pockets.”

  “Do you think that’s why he was killed?”

  “No, but it shows his true colors. Let’s hope this Tanner person can shed some light on things.”

  “Maybe he won’t make me stay outside,” said Jo with a bitter tone.

  “That’s just Scratch. He’s paranoid and was in an accident years ago that left him the way he is. Don’t take it personal.”

  He started the car, and as he found his way out of the parking lot, his phone rang. He looked at the ID and found O’Connor’s name. “Yeah, Chief?”

  “I need you to come down to my office before you do anything else.” His tone implied that Jake wasn’t going to like what this was about.

  “We’re on our way.” He hung up the phone.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  “O’Connor. He wants to see me.” Jake had a feeling this wasn’t going to be good.

  Chapter 18

  Jake

  He got back to the station with Jo and went down the hall to his office to unlock the door for her.

  “You know,” she said as he put the key in the knob. “You could just get me a copy made, and I could stop having to ask the
janitor to let me in.”

  “You already took over my chair, and now you’re trying to get the keys from me? Damn, you really do want me gone.”

  “That’s not true. I just think it would be easier when I beat you to work.”

  Jake laughed. “I get it. You’re gung-ho for your new job. But trust me, that level of excitement fades in time.” He swung the door open and she went inside. “I’ll see you when I’m done.”

  He left her with her work and went down to the chief’s office and knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” said a muffled voice from the other side.

  “Hey, you wanted to see me?”

  “Yeah,” said O’Connor. “Come in, Jake. And shut the door behind you please.”

  “If this is about the letter—”

  “Just let me speak, Jake.” O’Connor’s expression was hard. “Look, I’m not sure what’s going on with you, and while I know we’ve never been close, I’ve gotten to know a little about you over the time I’ve been here.”

  Jake nodded. “That’s true, but—”

  “Let me finish?” He waited for Jake to nod. “I’ve been thinking about the letter, yes, but what’s more disturbing to me is the fact that the killer knew so much about you.”

  “Why would that be a stretch? It’s no secret, and even Jo agrees that the killer has probably seen me around and overheard me talking.”

  “It’s what the letter says, Jake. You leaving doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.”

  “Here we go again? Really?” He was sick of the chief trying to get him to stay. “Look, I’ve made up my mind, and I’m going.”

  “I know that. But the killer knew things that I didn’t even know were happening to you. The sleeplessness, your eating habits? And let’s not forget your little problem with your peers.”

  Jake laughed. “I don’t have a problem with my peers, but I do have a problem with dirty cops and crooked lawyers and judges. Do you know that Hayden and that rookie did a shakedown on some kids across town? I’m sure Lang, being new, didn’t have much to do with it, but Hayden was pocketing drugs and selling them.”

  “That’s a pretty strong accusation, especially since our fallen brother isn’t here to defend himself.”

  “And yet, it’s true.”

  O’Connor shook his head. “I’m not here to talk about Officer Daniels or Lang. What I’ve called you here for is to tell you I have made an afternoon appointment for you to see the department’s psychiatrist, Dr. Meadows.”

  “A shrink? Are you fucking kidding me? Next thing you know, you’ll be pulling me from the case because the Hangman leaves me a fucking Christmas card.”

  “It’s only because I know now just what this job is doing to you, why you’re leaving in the first place. It really doesn’t have anything else to do with the Hangman or whatever association you might have with him once we find him.”

  “I’m not associated with him.” He didn’t want to end his final days as a detective going to a head doctor. People would think he was leaving because of some medical issue.

  “I know. But talking to our shrink might make you sleep better at night. It might help you get this shit off your chest. I should have recognized the signs sooner.”

  “What signs? The Hangman leaves us a letter, and now I’m crazy?”

  “You should get going. Your appointment is in twenty minutes.”

  Jake knew he had no choice but to go and see Dr. Meadows. “Fine.”

  He stormed out and down the hall until he came to the front desk. Sam was bent over the desk talking to Dannie, who was hanging up a wreath over a large portrait of Hayden Daniels.

  He didn’t bother stopping as he walked down the sidewalk and across the street to the doctor’s building where Dr. Leigh Meadows had her office. He had heard a lot about her, but mostly how attractive she was, from the other men on the force.

  He went into the building and to the front desk where a short chubby woman thumbed through a magazine. “I’m Detective Thomas, and I’m here to see Dr. Meadows. I have an appointment in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Sure, I’ll let her know you’re here.” She rose from her chair and went to the back.

  Jake looked around and noticed the place was empty of people. So, he paced between a row of chairs and the built-in fish tank and looked for signs of life in the crystal-clear water. The tank was full of tiny fish, all bright shades of neon, with two larger yellow ones and an angelfish that was black and white striped. He leaned in and tapped the glass.

  “Dr. Meadows will see you. I just need you to sign in.” He walked over and took the pen from the cup and scribbled his initials.

  “You can go on back.”

  He went through the double doors and down a short hall. Directly on the end, there was another set of double doors and the smiling face of Leigh Meadows as she stood there waiting. “Come on in, Detective.”

  Her voice was just as sexy as she was, and he couldn’t help but check her out. She had a nice rack, long legs, and the kind of eyes that made you want to fuck her hard. The doe-brown color of them matched her hair, and her pencil skirt made him think naughty librarian, while her flashy jewelry and fake nails made him think high maintenance. He preferred his girls a little more toned down. Something more like Jo? He suddenly saw the two of them embracing, a soft kiss exchanged between them.

  He blinked the vision of his partner away and tried to remember what he was doing there. “You can call me Jake. The detective thing is only for another two weeks.”

  “So, I’ve heard. Please, have a seat.” She walked over and patted the high back of one of two matching chairs. “It says here that you’re also working on a huge case.”

  “Yes, actually I am. Someone is trying to clean up the department using their own means.”

  “I hear that someone left you a note.” She sat in the matching black chair across from him and crossed her long legs before clicking open her pen and readying it at the pad.

  “I guess it’s pretty bad when a vicious killer cares enough to warn you.”

  “It’s not something that happens every day, no. But your chief wanted me to talk to you about what the note said. You have issues with your department and some injustices that you believe have happened?”

  “I am just sick and tired of seeing the evil things people do to one another.” He didn’t see why that was so hard to believe.

  Dr. Meadow’s sighed. “That’s part of your job, though, isn’t it?” She wrote something on her paper, and Jake wished he could read what it was.

  He took a deep breath. “Exactly, which is why I want to find another way to spend my life.”

  “But you knew that going in, right? That you’d be dealing with some pretty harsh stuff?”

  He suddenly felt the need to defend himself. “Yes, but I didn’t know it would wear on me so much.”

  She leaned in a little and then shifted toward him. “How is it wearing on you, Jake?”

  “I don’t sleep but maybe an hour a night. I don’t go anywhere outside of work besides a little diner I like to eat at and Blue’s Pub a few times a month.” He only went there for release, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

  “So, you’re becoming anti-social?”

  “I have to be social for my job, Dr. Meadows, so it’s not the same, I guess.”

  “Tell me what you do when you are home.”

  “I either stare at the television, or I stare at the ceiling above my bed.”

  “What do you think about in that time?” She looked up and made eye contact with him.

  Jake hated being analyzed. Her job was much like his own methods of interrogation, and observation was key. “I don’t think of anything. I just stare and try to clear my mind.” He didn’t think it mattered.

  “Do you blank out?”

  “Blank out? What’s that? Daydreaming?” He didn’t want to make more of it than it was.

  “I’m asking if you’re aware that you’re staring at t
he ceiling, or could you actually be doing something else in your conscious mind? Have you ever been someplace else when you snap out of it?”

  “Snap out of it? I guess I don’t get what you mean. I haven’t blacked out, if that’s what you’re asking.” He had never heard anyone call it blanking out before. “Look, of course I know I’m laying there awake. I don’t miss a thing, every little moth on my window screen or the creaks as the house settles. I’m not blacking or blanking or anything. I’m just bored.” He didn’t want to tell her about her nightmares he’d had and how they’d played into the not sleeping part.

  “You’re angry,” she said. “All I’m doing is—”

  “Wasting time that I could be out finding a killer. That’s what you’re doing.” Jake didn’t mean to snap at her, but she was way off and getting farther away. “Look. I get it. You’re just doing your job. But my troubles are not going to be the department’s problem for much longer.”

  “The chief is concerned that your condition might be having you make bad decisions. He doesn’t understand why a brilliant detective such as yourself would want to leave in the prime of his career, and he’s also worried that you’re suffering from depression or might have other bad thoughts.”

  “He thinks I’m going to off myself over this shit? Not a chance in hell. I’m a survivor, Dr. Meadows. I’ve been one my entire life. My father was a pothead alcoholic who liked to beat my mother, which he did until she died. He hid her body, and it took the detectives three years to find her. All of that time, I took the brunt of his beatings, thinking my mom left me to deal with him alone. I was glad she’d escaped. Boy, was I wrong.”

  “That’s why you became a detective, isn’t it? To do a better job?”

  “One of them.” He wasn’t going to give her any more. He was done.

  “Your early trauma could be the cause of your issues now. You might suffer from post-traumatic stress.”

  Now she was trying to compare him to Scratch. “I don’t think so. Are you done?” He hated that he’d shown her his secret.

  “As a matter of fact, we are for the day. But I want you to come back and see me, Jake. I’m worried that if we don’t go ahead and deal with these issues while you’re still on the force, then you might not ever address them.”