Love Can Kill You Baby

by Gabor Kiraly

  "I'm not mad, but you know I don't like it when you are cruel, while you touch my daughter."

  "Don't worry about that, I can be nice?Yeah, maybe tonight I will be very nice to her when I touch her again, and she can learn what a real man is?"and like it was something funny he started laughing. That's when Alexa came out of her room, asking if there is any supper.

  "Supper? Supper? Come on, uncle Georgie will give you something for supper?" said laughing and started unbutton his pants. Marika grabbed the back of his shirt: "Don't you dare to?" but couldn't finish it. George, turned, and with the same move hit her in the mouth with his fist. Marika fell on the coffee table, taking the table with her and everything on it. Her mouth was bleeding, already staining her shirt.

  "Shut up, or gonna get another one! And you too!"

  Yelled at Alexa shoving her back, towards her room, but he miscalculated the direction, and her head hit the doorframe with a bang. She started screaming, touching the cut on her head, which also was bleeding. Her blood runs down on the doorframe.

  "God damned witches! I will teach? "

  Bang-bang-bang! He heard, and with two steps was at the apartment door, opening it wide, and bellowing at the same time: "WHAT?"

  A police officer, a woman, and the two people from downstairs stood at the door.

  "What?" he yelled again, this time on a lower volume.

  "Sir, we have good reason to believe that a child and possibly her mother is in danger at this apartment. My name is?"

  "Get the hell out of my house!", and he tried to close the door. Frank caught George's hand and forced it behind his back. With another quick move the two hands were cuffed together. All this didn't take a minute. He laid him on the floor face down, and stepped inside. Alexa was still crying, bloody all over.

  "Sarge, call an ambulance. For two! And take this piece of garbage to the station! Off my sight!"

  The lady from Child Protection gave all her attention to Alexa, trying to comfort her.

  Marika tried to get up the floor, but she was already helplessly drunk, crying, than laughing, than cursing at the police officers, whose number increased in the meantime. But she was not any danger to the officers, so they let her rest on the floor, and carried on with their tasks.

  They collected DNA samples as much as they could find, fingerprints, and started searching for controlled substances, as it was in their warrant.

  Frank waited until the ambulance came, make sure that somebody stays with Mrs. Mezei at all times. She was not arrested, though Frank knew she would end up at the station when she learns that her daughter is in protective custody, and she is not even allowed to know where.

  He knew that the Child Protection worker will do anything in her power for the sake of the little girl, and she will provide a detailed report to him soon.

  When he made sure that everything is moving to the right direction, he left, and after a quick visit to Tim Horton's, drove to the station with a tray of hot coffee for the officers on duty tonight.

  As he hoped there was a fax from the bank, reporting that they did find an airplane ticket purchase, made with Robert Mezei's credit card. It occurred two months prior to the flight to Hungary and an exact date and time when the purchase was made.

  He put the fax in a file, which had a name on it: Joe.

  Around midnight another fax came in, from the Orillia OPP headquarters. A report from Sgt Hofstadter containing his works results. They could identify fingerprints, though yet unknown, but they continue to search the AFIS, where every North American known fingerprints are filed, so there is hope, and he will be notified first, in case of any results.

  This fax went to the Joe-file also.

  He knew that it's too early for the phone records to arrive, however, it made him frustrated. He sensed that finally something will happen in this cold case, and he hated waiting!

  It was 2 AM, when the cruiser got back to the station with the still drunk Mrs. Mezei. Her wounds were treated, so she was good to go to spend a night at the "tank".

  Drunk-tank, as the public called the cell, reserved for drunks, which wasn't comfy, wasn't warm, -though most of the sleep-over guests here never really noticed these-, but with the empty concrete walls, floor, and bench for a bed, it was easy to clean?

  Mrs. Mezei slept on the hard bunkie like a baby, her saliva drooling slowly, dripping on the floor.

  The cold woke her up before six in the morning. She had sobered up a lot; Frank guessed that she was in good enough condition, to walk home. She wanted to know about her daughter, and also asked about George.

  Frank told her that George swears that Alexa's injury was an accident, they can't prove otherwise, for there are no witnesses only the girl herself, but when they asked her at the ER what happened, she wouldn't talk about it. If Marika won't press charges, they will probably let George walk, in about 48 hours or less. Marika didn't press charges.

  "On the other hand," said Frank, "I have no good news about your daughter. As of right now she is in protective custody, she will be given out to foster parents temporarily, until a judge will hear the case and make a decision about her future."

  When he saw that the crying Marika looked genuinely sorry for the possibility of losing her child, he continued:

  "No, it doesn't look good. It's too late to cry, it won't help. I know you were a good mother before, and a valued member of your community. You had choices and you picked the wrong ones. The only, and I mean only thing what will help, is to get your life together, and prove that you are a fit parent, worthy of your daughter's love and company. You can go now."

  Marika left, but Frank still heard her sigh in deep despair:

  "What have I done? Oh my God, what am I gonna do now?"

  The ER doctor's printed medical report and assessment ended up in the Joe-file too.

  Just before the Saturday duty-chief arrived, Joe got another fax, a written report from Child Protection, a short, business-like version of last night's events from their point of view. Alexa was safe, finally.

  The report fallowed the others into the Joe-file, than he called Joe's number and left a message on the answering machine.

  It was Saturday morning, cold, and he wanted to sleep now.

  Chapter 22.

  They stocked up on donuts and hit the road. It can be a very long drive, especially in Friday's traffic, from Parry Sound to Hamilton. They had time to spend it with talk about something else then the case. Joe asked her about her smoking habit. He was quiet surprised to see her the first time with a lit cigarette in her hand. "Usually non-smoker girls have this beautiful skin", he thought. She reasoned again with the certain culture differences between countries or nationalities. In the roma life, very few things are forbidden. Neither ethical, nor moral, or legal? She asked him: you think gasoline or diesel fume healthier? Eating bio-engineered fruits and veggies, full with chemicals and pesticides healthier?

  She has her principles, guiding her life and so far they worked well. Plus, to give Joe a peace of mind, she told him, that she grown up in a "white", or as the roma call them "peasant" Hungarian family. She believes that the violent, primitive, unwritten laws of the roma life were nurtured out of her? Either way, she does not really care what people think about her, she feels good in her skin, whoever is interested, they can take her as she is, or leave her as she is. Simple rules.

  By this time, they were driving by the Pearson Airport. Katlin like a little kid pointed out every airplane coming and going.

  "Look at these giants! How graceful is the moment when they leave the ground, a hundred tonnes of steel, fuel, and tourist gets angel-wings, and they fly! Beautiful! Simply beautiful!"

  "So you like flying, little jet setter?"

  "Me? Are you crazy? There is very few things I hate more than flying! It is very dangerous, and whoever invented it just didn't see the horror he created! It doesn't mean that I don't appreciate strength combined with beauty and grace. From right here, sa
fely on the ground?flying? What an idea?"

  "Lady, you are not boring, to tell the truth. Not at all." thought Joe.

  They kept on going?On the left hand side, soon Lake Ontario appeared. The traffic was heavy, like always on this stretch of the highway.

  Shortly they could see tall chimneys, smokestacks, and ever-burning gas flames on high reaching pipes. Huge ships delivered coal, and all kind of goods in and out of the harbour under the tall bridge.

  Again the GPS helped them to find their destination, a local police station. Frank already called hours ago, so they were expected. Joe introduced themselves, and a middle aged lady welcomed them:"Hi! I'm Sergeant Vargas and I prepared Mr. Ferber's files! May I lead you thru the files or would you like to study them by yourselves?" she asked politely.

  "It would be more beneficial if you could help us out?I believe you are more familiar with this gentleman, and this is your turf. You know places, names, we don't and we would depend on your help anyway?"

  "Of course, gladly" and he started to introduce?:

  "George Ferber, also known as "mucho" Ferber. 39 years old, born in Hungary. Came to Canada with the first wave of roma "refugees" in the mid-nineties, 95 I believe. He is a bad news, however he was never charged with any crime. Slimy, slippery as a fish, he always found a way to stay out of jail. But he can't manage to stay out of trouble?He got arrested seven times, for trafficking controlled substances, guns, and even human cargo to the States, public violence and prostitution? male prostitution.

  We never could keep him, though we are sure that he has connections with organized crime thru roma, Russian, and Ukraine families. A known name in the black market, and he can get you whatever you have enough money to pay for?

  At least that's the rumor, we couldn't prove anything. In the last two years, we haven't seen him too often, and we don't miss him!"

  "Thank you, Sergeant. So would you say that he would, or would be capable to get a handgun?"

  "Definitely! There are so many ways to smuggle anything thru border control?You saw those large coal freighters driving into the city.

  There is no way to catch everything, every time. And he is definitely capable, and he has the means and methods. Like I said: he's bad news!"

  "Do you think he would use a handgun?"

  "It is hard to say. My personal opinion: Yes! Definitely!"

  They expressed their appreciation for the efforts to Sgt. Vargas, and left.

  "Boss?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I know you are very wise, and I can't even come close to you in smarts, but couldn't we just phone here, and we would know as much as we know now?"

  "Yes, I know. God invented the phone, so we don't have to yell at each other over long distances?On the other hand, God also invented good cars, so we can travel long distances in comfort, and we don't have to walk for days to see one of God's other creations, which I promised I will show you today. There. Plus, I bet you can look into your phone's speaker as long as you want, but you won't see this or for that matter you won't see anything, but the speaker"

  "Aaaaha! And what is "this" what we are going to see?"

  "Do you know where we are right now?"

  "No!"

  "Did you pay attention what directions we took since we left Toronto, or even since Hamilton? Did you read the signs?"

  "Let me ask you! Did you see me fighting with the donuts? You think it's easy? By the way, I paid attention! After Toronto we headed to Hamilton, but to answer your question, no, I did not read the signs, if you noticed there is a lot more, nicer things to see, and no, I'm not a human compass!...well?mm I have no clue where we are right now. There. Happy?"

  "Yes, happy!"

  For another twenty minutes nobody said a word, Katlin pretended that she's asleep. However the snores were missing, so Joe knew what was going on.

  Actually this couldn't be better, for he wanted to surprise Katlin. He managed to pass by the Disneyland mixed with Las Vegas style downtown, and parked the car. Kaitlin did not move. Joe switched off the loud radio, which action was not followed with instant silence, but a strong, deep roar, the kind you feel even in your bones.

  Katlin opened her eyes. Slowly, her sight fixed on one point, she got out of the car, and walked up, like a sleepwalker, with no expression on her face, to the roaring water. The Niagara Falls with all its might and deafening voice mesmerized her. Joe closed the car door after her, not wanting to lose any second of this great moment, he fixed his eyes on Katlin while he got there, to stand beside her for some time. She turned around with tears in her eyes.

  "Thank you, Joe. Thank you. This is the best gift I could ever ask for? I am touched. You are a gentle, kind, good man. This is beautiful! I can't even tell you how I feel. Happy, strong, optimistic, there is no good word to describe it. It must be how you feel, when you say the words: "I do"? This is one of those great moments. Thank you! I know you understand me?do you?"

  "I do" he said.

  She noticed his choice of words. "You do! Hm-hm." she thought.

  Katlin was happy, joking, laughing all the way back to Toronto. Joe, again as he promised, took her to his favourite restaurant. When Katlin saw the Mandarin logo, she yelled out: "Chinese!" and gave these directions to Joe: "Look, I kinda like Chinese food , so when you'll see me pass out for overeating, don't panic, take me somewhere cool, maybe a little cold water on my forehead, and wake me up, so I can come back to finish up the menu! Deal?"

  "Yes, dear!"

  "Good answer?"

  Chapter 23.

  Saturday morning Joe noticed the red light on the answering machine, he listened to the message and made quick notes in his handy notebook, and left. Soon he got home, with the Toronto Star's Saturday edition. He was trying to be quiet, giving Katlin the chance to have a good rest after her feast at the Mandarin. However, he saw, with a genuine surprise that Katlin was up, sipping coffee, with another mug already prepared for him.

  "Wow, are you OK?" he asked

  "Yes? what you mean OK? Should I be sick, or what did you expect to see? Broke my arm?"

  "Well?mm after last night at the Mandarin?I don't know"

  "Oh, oh, OK, I know what you mean. Yeah?first time it could be shocking, but you will get used to it. I always know when it's enough. I live by the golden rule: "Know your limit, eat within it!" Did I pass out?"

  "Twice?"

  "Hm. Interesting! After the strawberry cheesecake, things got a bit foggy, and I don't really remember every detail?Anyway, what's in store for us today, Boss?"

  "Have I already told you, that I don't like being called Boss?"

  "Yes!"

  "Aha. Hm. Good. Oh, for today? I think today we should stay home, and use our head. It's time to think it over, whatever we have. Maybe a little walk later, to clean our heads. In the meantime, if something comes up, we will deal with it."

  "OK, sounds good to me! Do you mind if I listen to some music while thinking?"

  "You do whatever you like; you'll find CDs in that drawer, though I'm not sure that my collection will satisfy you?"

  "Oh I have already checked out your stash, and I have to give it to you, you got a good taste in music. I can tell that you are not European educated; still, it's a surprisingly good selection. Now why would you looking at me like that? You really thought I won't check out your CDs? I'm more thorough than that?"

  "I guess so!"

  Instead of a CD she found some light rock on the radio.

  "You like this?" asked Joe.

  "No, but this is one music I don't have to listen to, it's just a back noise against silence. If I listen to something I like, then I completely give myself up to the music, and don't care about anything else? This one right now is more productive."

  "Right. Mm?get to work!"

  "Slave driver!"

  "Shush!" said Joe, and was turning to his notebook, when for a second, with the greatest surprise he saw that the girl stuck out her tongue to him, making a funny f
ace, believing that Joe haven't seen her.

  "Oh my God," laughed Joe in his mind "what a creature! In one minute she's ice cold and business-like, then hot and exotic like a burning jungle, and turns to innocent as a newborn baby seal, or playful and happy like a kid! Oh, woman! What are you doing to me?" than he turned his thoughts around, and tried to concentrate on his work. He moved the pages of the notebook back and forth, often making new notes, sometimes just sat there, looking at the ceiling for a long time, chewing his pencil. On occasions, he said out words like "Neeeh, I don't think so" or "Mm?hm, maybe!" and "Yapp, ahaa, that's how it was?" finally "Well, we'll see?"

  "Boss! Would you like a coffee before you hurt your head? I can smell it from here how hard you're thinking?"

  "Look at that! I'm not the only funny one in this house? yes dear, a coffee would be great! Thanks, good idea!"

  They were sipping coffee, sunk deep in their thoughts still?

  "Kat? Would you like to learn from the "Big Book of Knowledge" by Joseph Bryan? Here is your chance?"

  "I'm listening?"

  "I did organize my thoughts, but it could always help to think it over aloud?OK then. You know, that there is no such thing as "perfect crime". Every case is solvable, if you can answer five basic questions, called "the five W". These are: WHAT? WHEN? WHERE? WHO? WHY? These questions need to be answered to catch, sentence and convict a criminal. What do we know so far?

  We know WHAT happened. If we don't know what happened, like in a missing-person case, how can we prove it was a crime??

  We know WHEN. Without knowing the time the crime occurred, we can't make a timeline and fit our suspect into it?

  Plus we know WHERE. If we wouldn't have an exact crime-scene, same problem like above, how can we prove that the suspect was there?

  What we don't know yet with certainty, is WHO, and WHY? If we knew why, it would help very much to find out who? or the other way, if we knew whom, probably we would learn quickly why?

  Now who, and why would somebody kill a man, who has no known enemies, he is not in money trouble, with no criminal history or underworld connections, not even a speeding ticket?Hm?"

  "You're asking me? You should tell me? I noticed the word 'certainty'. Does it mean you have someone on the top of your list of suspects though you are not sure yet? Who?"