False Witness

by Worthington, T. S.

  But what other choice did he have now? His anchor in this world was gone. He essentially had no wife. By doing what she did she was essentially saying she did not want him anymore, but for right now she would not rock the boat of her life and make any drastic changes to what she was used to. That was the kind of great gal he’d married.

  The idea began to form slowly and once it did and became firmly entrenched in his mind he had realized that it was there the whole time. It took a bottle of whiskey for him to fully realize it and dress it up as a real plan, but it had already planted its seeds. He was not sure when but it had been there for a long time.

  He was going to kill John Farnsworth.

  He didn’t know when and he didn’t know how yet, but that man’s days were numbered.

  The more he thought about the idea the happier it made him. He would kill that bastard and then become the man that Maria wanted him to be. He would change and everything would be just fine after all.

  But first he had to get John out of the way.

  He knew that soon the opportunity would present itself.

  Chapter 2

  “Show Me the Way”

  “Hey, honey,” Maria said when Declan stepped into the kitchen two mornings later. “I didn’t even hear you come in last night.”

  “Yeah, the trip was great. I didn’t want to leave,” Declan said putting on his easiest smile. “I didn’t get in until late and you were already in bed.”

  “I’m glad you had a good time,” Maria said as Declan leaned in for a kiss. She grabbed two slices of toast from the toaster, buttered them and sat them on the table to complete the great breakfast she always made him when he returned from his fishing trips. He had sausage links, pancakes, and scrambled eggs with several cups of coffee. Life was good.

  Or at least it would be when he killed John Farnsworth.

  He hadn’t even thought much about the idea since he arrived home the night before. He stayed at the hotel most of the day and went to a Mets game. He wanted to go home sooner, but he had to make the trip look believable and he was waiting for his rage to simmer down.

  A good night’s sleep definitely helped and now he felt fresh as a daisy. He’d made up his mind that he was going to do this. Somehow by coming to this conclusion his whole demeanor had changed and he was no longer feeling any rage or depression. In fact he was as happy as he could possibly be.

  “So, what did you do this weekend?” Declan asked before stuffing a piece of toast in his mouth.

  “Oh, a little of this and that. I ran a few errands. I was going to hang out with Judy and Carol, but I ended up not feeling like it and stayed home.”

  “You didn’t go for your weekly card game? You feeling ok?” Declan asked.

  “Yeah, but I was just tired so I stayed home and took a nap. I am fine, I assure you.”

  Gee, I wonder what got you so tired, Declan thought.

  “So, you got a busy day planned? Hopefully nothing too crazy dangerous,” Maria said.

  “Babe, it’s part of the job. I never know if I will encounter something crazy or dangerous, let alone both at the same time,” Declan joked.

  Maria gave him her typical sarcastic look when he made his jokes. She did that because all of his jokes were corny but they still made her laugh.

  “Well, be careful. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Shit. I was going to be half-cocked and restless. Now if I come home with both eyes and both functioning arms then it’s your fault,” Declan replied. He was on a roll this morning.

  Maria couldn’t hide the laughter that time. He knew his jokes were beyond lame, but if he told a few in a row she would laugh. He loved to hear his angel laugh.

  “What do you want to do tonight?” Maria asked. “Assuming you have both eyes and everything still.”

  “I dunno. Unless something out of the ordinary happens I should be home by six, so we can probably go out to dinner, maybe take in a movie. Or if you want to stay in then I’m fine with that too.”

  Maria rolled her eyes. She was always trying to get him to make a decision about what they should do, but every time he did she would groan and be whiny about it because it was not what she wanted. But of course if he asked her flat out what she wanted to do she would not say. It was like she expected him to guess and if he didn’t then he was a jerk. Typical women logic, he supposed. So he finally gave up and just gave her a bunch of choices.

  “I don’t know,” Maria said. Typical.

  “Ok, well when you figure out what you would like me to guess just create a bunch of hints instead of telling me because that always works. I know I’m a detective and all, but even I need a team of people to put the puzzle that evidence creates together.”

  “Ha ha,” Maria said with a smile. He knew he got her.

  “I gotta run,” Declan said. He kissed her goodbye and was out the door.

  A half hour later he was sitting in his office staring at the wall. It had been a slow morning, which he was actually thankful for. Most of that morning had been waiting for their confidential informant to call them with any update or news on Josh Rames, a fast rising crack dealer. His product had infested an entire neighborhood. Crime was up and running rampant in the area as junkies tried to do anything to get the cash for their drugs and of course rival dealers and low level henchman were found fighting over street corners. Homicide of dealers, junkies, and citizens defending themselves in their homes had tripled in the past six months, ever since Josh got released from prison.

  They had tapped an informant, a junkie named Alex Watson for information. He claimed he could help them catch Josh in the act and bring him into custody. After that they should be able to find out his other contacts and force him to work a deal so that they could find out who the damn supplier was.

  But so far Alex’s insights had proved to be wrong on two occasions. But it wasn’t totally his fault. Josh just didn’t show up where Alex believed he was. The man was paranoid smart, which was why he’d evaded detection for so long and been able to cause so much damage. The only reason Josh had been popped at all and gone to prison for three years was because one of his people turned him in and cut a deal before.

  Josh had learned from his mistakes before and was an even more careful and cunning criminal this time around. But they were going to get him. There was no doubt in Declan’s mind. He had faith. Sometimes it just took a bit longer.

  “Hey!”

  John Farnsworth was suddenly standing in the doorway to his office in his typical cocky stance. The man dressed like he thought he was going a nightclub. Typically he wore flashy shirts, slick, black slacks, and a leather jacket that had to cost a month’s salary. He was so damn flashy he could have been mistaken for a drug dealer or a pimp himself.

  The second Declan laid eyes on him he wanted to strangle him on the spot. He’d holed himself up in his office precisely for that reason, hoping that he could just focus on paperwork and maybe investigate a few leads by phone. He was not really planning to leave the office that day. And he damned sure wasn’t planning on speaking to John at all. He just didn’t think he could.

  But here he was.

  “What?” Declan asked.

  “We got him,” John replied.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Alex just called and said that Josh is supposed to have one of his guys do a deal today at the corner of Murphy and 1st Ave. We got to roll.”

  Declan looked at him then. Was he going to be able to get in a car with this prick and not think about the fact that this man was banging his wife? Was that going to happen?

  He didn’t have a choice. If he wanted to get the man out of the picture and to make him really pay for what he did then he was going to have to play ball and just go with the flow. He had to pretend like nothing was going on out of the ordinary. He just had to relax and remain focused.

  Chapter 3

  “Seizing the Moment”

 
“Alright, there he is.”

  Declan tried not to groan out loud. The sound of John’s voice had always irritated him. It sounded like educated redneck—the worst kind—and it was especially grating now after everything that was going on. He closed his eyes and breathed in slowly and deeply, without drawing suspicion from Farnsworth. He wasn’t paying attention anyway sitting in the passenger seat with a pair of binoculars watching the deal about to go down.

  Declan could see the transaction without any vision enhancers just fine. Farnsworth loved to show off. He reminded Declan of a guy who had become a cop because he’d seen too many eighties cop flicks or CSI crime shows. He was a showboat all the way. The worst kind of person to be standing behind a badge that was for damn sure.

  The kid waiting to buy drugs couldn’t have been over sixteen. He looked like a street kid who’d probably ran away from home or been kicked out because of his gang affiliations or because he was simply a drug addict. It was almost impossible to reason with an adult addict, but throw the rebellion and stupidity of the teenage species in there for good measure and you had yourself one seriously impossible to reach human being.

  “When is this supposed to happen?” Declan asked. He was really just wondering how long he had to stay in a car with this jerk off.

  “One forty-five. But drug dealers aren’t exactly the most trustworthy or prompt people,” John said.

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Declan replied, a bit of the disgust evident in his voice.

  John noticed. He looked away from the binoculars and gave Declan a bit of a glare which Declan gave right back to the prick.

  “You ok? You’ve been kind of moody today,” John asked.

  “Do this job for over ten years and see how perky you stay,” Declan said.

  “Well, I’m hoping to move on to better things by that time. Get a sweet, cushy desk job. Maybe become Captain or something. I do not plan to paint the streets forever.”

  “Good,” Declan said. “It’s important to have ambition.”

  “Is that why you never moved up? No ambition?” John said with a sarcastic grin.

  Declan wanted to hit him. Oh, he wanted to hit him so badly.

  “No. As you will find out when you try to climb the ladder in this job, much like most jobs actually, it’s all about politics. It’s about getting the right people to like you and scratching each other’s backs and so forth. It has very little to do with talent. Unless you get lucky enough to break the case of the century or some other heroic thing, and then they will promote you because it is good press, which is just a much more honest form of politics.”

  John looked at him as if he was trying to decipher if he was joking or not. “Wow, man. I hope I don’t end up as bitter and cynical as you are one day.”

  “If you keep doing this job, you will,” Declan said. But he knew the kid would move up. He was just the right kind of asshole. Self-centered, ass kissing, politicking, backstabbing, and wife stealing--the kid was perfect for politics. But Declan was going to make sure he never got the chance.

  “So, how was your weekend? Did you do anything cool?” John asked.

  Declan stared at John for what must have been thirty seconds. John wasn’t paying much attention, still focused on those stupid binoculars.

  “Yeah. I went fishing up to the lake,” Declan grunted.

  “Fishing, huh? Yeah, I never really got into that. To me it’s as much fun as watching paint dry,” John said.

  “Well, it is pretty boring, which is precisely why I like it. I don’t really care to try to catch fish. I do it for the silence, for the relaxation involved. It’s peaceful and quiet just sitting out there beside the lake.”

  “Ok, but you can do that at home in a quiet room or even at the library. You don’t need to drive four hours out of town for it,” John said.

  “True, but it’s not the same. There is something about being out there with the sounds of nature. And I know you can pull up YouTube videos on your phone with crap like that, but it’s not the same. Plus if you are there it’s like you are communing with nature, getting back to the roots of humanity, and you get out of the house, far away from all your troubles and concerns. At home all of your problems are just on the other side of a door.”

  “Wow, that’s beautiful. You should quit being a cop and write Hallmark cards,” John joked.

  “I’ve considered it,” Declan joked back. “But I need the rush of having the titillating conversations with people like you and this drug dealer we are waiting on.”

  John laughed. “You got some zingers in you, Declan ol’ boy. I dig it,” John said.

  Declan felt his skin crawl. He hated when John said “I dig it”. He said it all the damn time and it made him sound like some reject from the sixties who’d stumbled into a time machine and found himself here.

  “How about you?” Declan asked. “Did you do anything… fun… this weekend?”

  He didn’t mean to draw the question out or to emphasize certain words, but somehow he couldn’t help himself and the question just came out that way. He hoped that John didn’t pick up on it.

  He didn’t seem to. He was too preoccupied with his Starsky and Hutch spy games through the binoculars. Declan wanted to grab the things and ram them down his throat.

  “Nah, not really. Some buddies and me hung out at and had a few beers Saturday, but nothing else really. Mostly hung around the house and got some work done in my yard. I used to hire neighborhood kids to mow it for me, but they kept doing such a lousy job that I just decided to do it myself. Besides if I do it without a shirt it makes all the ladies in the neighborhood all hot and bothered. Like suddenly there are three of them out in their yards sunbathing on pool chairs in their bikinis. As if any of those old bags have a shot. Well, actually there’s one that is not too bad. Her name is… Mary I think. She kind of looks like a slightly older version of the chick that plays on that crime show Bones. Yeah, I wouldn’t turn that one down.”

  Shut the fuck up. Please, shut the fuck up.

  Declan had fired his weapon three times in the line of duty and he had killed two of those men. They all deserved to die. They were criminals who had murdered countless others and were trying to kill him at the time that he shot them. He had not wanted to kill any of those people one tenth as badly as he wanted to kill John Farnsworth at that moment. The man was the vilest excuse for a human being that he’d ever laid eyes on. And he was a narcotics cop in New York City. That was saying something.

  “There he is!” John said. He practically jumped through the windshield.

  Declan observed another man walking up to the kid they had been watching. He was a man who appeared to be in his twenties, but very street wise. He walked as if he had mastered the art of fitting in and being ignored. Declan had seen that walk on countless other career criminals. Eventually who they were and the life they led as criminals became one and the same.

  “Come on,” John said. The excitement he had was almost contagious. Declan could remember when he had been that excited to be staking out a dirt bag and the prospect of getting closer and closer to nailing him was dangling right in front of you. That was when the job meant something to him. He knew deep down that it still did mean something to him, but he didn’t know what anymore.

  The older man walked up to the kid and quickly passed him something, but it was obvious to the trained eye that they had actually passed each other something and they wanted it hidden from view. The move was seamless. It appeared to be two guys who might have known each other slapping hands and then walking away.

  “Ok, that was it!” John said.

  “Stay calm. We don’t want to spook him. We got him on the dash board camera; we just need to get him in custody and see what he has.”

  “Ok, guys. The buyer is headed your way,” Declan breathed into the radio.

  “Roger that. We should have him in our sights when he rounds the corner.”

&nbs
p; “I hope they don’t fuck this up,” John said.

  “It will be fine,” Declan replied. Of course he was hoping the other unit stationed around the corner in an undercover could nab the buyer. It was a coordinated effort and when done right always worked, enabling them to grab both perps easily and without them giving chase which put them and others around them in danger.

  “We just need to wait until he gets to the corner and then we can approach.”

  “Yeah, unless he runs,” John said.

  “We haven’t spooked him yet. He has no reason to run, unless we give him one. Just stay put.”

  “I don’t like this waiting around crap. We have him in our sights. We saw what he did. The other unit is going to pick up the kid for drugs. What are we waiting for?” John said.

  His impatience was more than annoying; it was dangerous. The man was unsafe to be on the streets wearing a badge, yet the city had decided that he would be a fine cop. Declan had to shake his head at the imbeciles who made those decisions nowadays.

  The dealer rounded the corner walking slowly, almost as if he was about to pass out tired. It was a calculated movement that would not give him away to normal people, but any vice cop worth his salt could spot the phony movements a mile away.

  “Ok,” Declan said. “Let’s go.”

  They got out of the car and proceeded to walk after him.

  Declan moved quickly but silently with catlike reflexes, his toes barely hitting the pavement. The neighborhood was fairly quiet despite being a really bad neighborhood to be in, even in the daytime. But for two men wearing plain clothes they did not have too much to worry about.

  They rounded the corner and saw the dealer about half a block away. Now was crunch time. They had to get close to him without arousing suspicion. It was likely at some point he might see them, but the plan was to get close enough to draw their weapons and order him to freeze. If he was close enough to them then it minimized the likelihood that he would run. Some would and some wouldn’t. Declan hated running, but he was still fairly good at it. Despite all the abuse he put his body through daily with the alcohol he had maintained fairly good physical fitness. He chalked it up to simple genetics. That had to be it.