by M. L. WILSON
“Wait here,” Bishop says to Justice. He walks down to meet Giordano, knowing full well the type of greeting he’s going to get.
“Detective Bishop!” Giordano says with a sardonic grin. “Should’ve known Danvers would give this case to you.”
“Good to see you too, Chief,” Bishop says with a sarcastic smile. “Come to see what real police work is?”
“You watch your ass, Bishop. You screw this up, and I promise you, you’ll be walkin’ a beat for the rest of your career.”
“You know what, sir? At least when you walk a beat, no one tells you to bend over and take it.”
“Just tell me what the hell happened, Bishop,” Giordano says angrily.
“The protest signs should be a dead giveaway, Chief. Witness says a cop killed that guy and ran away.” Bishop points to the body of Phipps. “Vic’s name is Kevin Phipps. A local. No priors, no enemies, no arrest warrants. Tenants say he’s quiet and keeps to himself.”
“A cop. You believe that, Bishop?”
“I was in the process of looking over preliminary evidence to make that determination before you interrupted me, Chief.”
“Let me explain something to you, Detective Bishop.” Giordano moves closer to Bishop. “A lot of people’s asses are on the line on this thing, starting with yours. You screw the pooch on this one, and I promise you, you’re goin’ down.”
“It’d be nice to take a few people with me, starting with you, Chief,” Bishop whispers. Giordano laughs, as if Bishop just told a joke. Bishop wasn’t joking, and Giordano knows it.
“Well, don’t let me keep you from your work, Detective Bishop. You will keep me posted on your progress, won’t you?”
“I find out anything, you’ll be the first to know.”
CHAPTER 26
BISHOP WALKS BACK with a smile on his face. He always feels better when he stands up to the politicians.
“I take it that little meeting didn’t go well?” Kuntz asks.
“As well as it always does.”
Bishop puts on his latex gloves and reaches to touch the perimeter of the wound to try and draw some conclusion of how there could possibly be no gunshot residue. He’s abruptly interrupted again before he can begin his analysis by a feminine voice.
“Don’t touch that, Detective, unless you want to contaminate the evidence.”
“What is this, a circus? I’m trying to solve a crime here,” Bishop says as he stands up when he hears the voice, knowing he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“M.E. Saunders. Good to see you. Bet you’re glad to be getting out amongst the living.”
“Pretty funny, Bishop,” Laura replies as she slips on a pair of latex gloves. “Let me have a look.”
Bishop and Kuntz smile and politely step aside as Saunders kneels to examine the body to make a preliminary determination of cause of death.
“Gunshot wound is obviously the cause of death. I’ll give you a definitive once I get him on my table. Where was he killed?”
“Right here, Doctor.”
“Is that supposed to be a joke, Detective Bishop?”
“No joke, Doc. Witnesses saw it go down. Said a cop shot him and ran down the alley.”
“A cop? Then the only mystery here is, where the hell is all the blood?”
“Not only that,” Kuntz interjects, “take a look at the wound. There’s no evidence of GSR.”
Saunders closely examines the wound that went through Phipps’ back. She leans closer to the wound to smell for gunshot residue—nothing. Bishop, though surprised at Saunders’ thoroughness, admires her dedication to her profession.
“So what do you think, Doc?” says Bishop.
“I don’t know,” Saunders replies as she stands up and looks over the body. Time to solve another puzzle. That quiet evening alone will have to wait. I’ll get you time and cause of death if you get me an explanation as to where all the blood went.”
“Deal,” Bishop says. Sergeant Kuntz gestures for the coroner’s staff to bag the body for transport.
“The show’s all yours, big fella,” Kuntz says to Bishop as he starts walking down the alley.
“Hey, wait a minute.”
“You’re the detective, Ken. Remember, I retire in two years, and I still got a shitload ah sick leave to use.”
Bishop smiles and shakes his head. “All right, Justice. You wanted to be in homicide? Be careful what you wish for. Come on.”
CHAPTER 27
AFTER HIDING OUT until nightfall, the Promelian executioner arrives back at the abandoned warehouse that serves as one of several Promelian headquarters across the globe. Looking behind him to make sure he wasn’t followed, he hurries down the alley to the side entrance of the building.
The metal entrance door to the building is rusted and squeaks when opened, making a surreptitious entrance impossible. He has no intention of surprising anyone, though. In fact, his arrival is eagerly anticipated by the building’s lone “human” occupant.
The warehouse, part of an old steel mill that has been abandoned for nearly thirty years, smells of musk and rain water. Its only residents have been the rats and roaches, scurrying for whatever food they can find. Old barrels, that at a time contained usable chemicals, sit scattered across the warehouse floor, filled with a mix of rancid water and chemical residue.
The executioner sees a dimly lit room upstairs and proceeds to the staircase. Rats scurry at his feet as he kicks at them, and he ponders his punishment with every step. He knows his failure to dispose of Kevin Phipps’ body could have severe consequences for their mission. He will be punished for his failure; he’s made himself comfortable with that, he accepts that.
On his home world, the punishment would have been death. Unlikely, considering the circumstances. Time is short for the Promelians, and their mission is far from complete.
He finally makes his way to the dimly lit room and sees his commander standing across the room with his back to him. Dressed in a dark suit, the commander is clean-shaven, with the cloaked appearance of a man in his mid-thirties. The executioner enters the room and makes his presence known, knowing full well his commander is aware of his presence.
“Sir…” the executioner says with apprehension.
“You failed,” the commander interrupts, speaking with a British accent.
“All that we have worked for, all that we have sacrificed could be exposed. How could you let that happen?” says the commander as he walks methodically toward the executioner.
“But sir, it’s not my fault. I —”
The Promelian commander laughs at the executioner’s feeble attempt at an excuse.
“Of course it’s not your fault, soldier. It’s nobody’s fault,” he says sarcastically as he stops in front of the executioner. The commander places one hand on the shoulder of the executioner like a father would place on a child when offering wisdom and guidance.
“The humans have a saying: no single raindrop is ever responsible for the flood. If that is so, then how did the flood occur?” the commander rhetorically asks. He removes his hand from the executioner’s shoulder and turns and walks away, leaving the executioner to continue to wonder what his fate will be.
“We are the elite warriors of our race. The most trusted soldiers of the supreme council.”
The commander turns to face the executioner and stares at him with a stern look on his face. “Time is short. We must complete our mission on schedule.”
“Under any other circumstances, you would be executed for your failure, but there is still much to be accomplished, and I need you. One of our brothers is still missing, and we are running out of time. I cannot afford to lose you right now. You are to be re-cloaked immediately and carry on with your mission.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” the executioner responds dutifully.
“But what of the body in the alley?”
“We will clean up your mess, soldier. Our human “friends” will retrieve and dispose of
the body. Return to your duties and do not fail me again.”
With that, the executioner departs, thankful that there was no punishment. The commander pulls a cell phone from his pocket and speed dials the only number he has in his phone.
“It’s me. Pick up the body of Kevin Phipps from the medical examiner’s office and dispose of it.”
“That’s correct…he is Cerelean.”
The commander hangs up and puts the cell phone back in his pocket. He crosses his arms and wonders if this mistake will expose them and their efforts. Exposure would mean the end of their plans.
CHAPTER 28
LAURA MAKES IT back to her lab and anxiously awaits the arrival of Phipps’ body. Her interest in solving this puzzle is piqued like never before. This could be the biggest find of her career.
Eat your heart out, Sherlock Holmes.
On the drive back to her office, she entertained every possible scenario she could think of to explain the absence of blood from the scene, but nothing fit. Even as she preps for the autopsy, she continues to theorize.
The coroner’s van arrives at the medical examiner’s office with detectives Bishop and Justice arriving closely behind it. Phipps’ body is removed from the van and wheeled on a gurney into the building. Bishop and Justice are close behind the medical staff as they proceed through the double entrance doors.
“You’ve been pretty quiet, Detective,” Bishop says, hoping to get a response. “Ever see an autopsy before?”
“No, I haven’t,” Justice says, embarrassed by his lack of experience. “Any advice?”
“Yeah, don’t faint. I need your head in this. What’s your take on it, anyway?”
“Dead body and no blood at the scene. Obviously it’s a dump job. Couldn’t have been killed in that alley.”
“You haven’t been listening, Detective Justice. All evidence points to the alley being the murder scene. What about the witness? The lack of GSR? Something’s not right.”
Bishop follows the medical staff intently, hoping the autopsy will give him the answers he needs to make an arrest. He’s also concerned about his new partner. Justice hasn’t said much since they arrived at the crime scene. The job of a police detective is to solve crimes by coming up with theories that fit the facts. Justice hasn’t said a word, not a single question, not a single theory. Bishop begins to doubt his partner’s ability to do the job.
As the body is wheeled into the autopsy room where Laura awaits, Bishop hopes that all his questions will be answered.
“Put him on the far table over there,” says Saunders as she puts on her surgical gloves. She hasn’t been this excited since she did her first solo autopsy. She believes what she’s about to discover will change the course of human history forever, and she will be known as the one who made the discovery. She thinks about the attention she’s going to get— interviews, book deals, maybe even the cover of Time magazine.
Before Laura can begin her Y incision, she is abruptly interrupted by the arrival of eight men who easily pass for government agents. They’re clean-shaven, crew cuts, and dressed in black suits and armed with automatic weapons.
“Step away from the body, Doctor,” says the lead agent as another agent points his weapon at Detective Justice.
“Who the hell are you guys?” asks Saunders.
Without a word, two of the agents grab Saunders by each arm and forcefully move her to the other side of the room.
“Get your damn hands off of me!” Saunders yells as she futilely struggles against the agents.
“Whoa, buddy!” says Bishop as he steps between the lead agent and the body of Phipps.
“I don’t care what agency you’re with, you’re not gonna just stroll in here and take my evidence.”
“This is a matter of national security, Detective Bishop. Stand aside, or I’ll have you placed under arrest.”
“How do you know who I am?”
The lead agent ignores Bishop’s question as if he were nothing more than a minor nuisance.
“Remove the detective, and secure the body.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I get some answers.”
Two agents step toward Detective Bishop, but Bishop stands his ground and refuses to move.
“You want my evidence, you’re gonna have to go through me.”
“Detective, my agents are trained and they are trained well. Make no mistake, we will use whatever force is necessary to remove this body. Now, I’ll only tell you one more time. Stand aside.”
As Bishop stands face to face with the agent, he sees another agent approaching him in his peripheral vision. Bishop feels confident he can hold his own against two of them, but he knows there is no way he can handle them all. In his younger days, he probably would have tried it. Now, wisdom takes over, and the old saying comes to his mind: he who fights and runs away lives to fight another day.
Reluctantly, but wisely, Detective Bishop stands aside and lets the agents have the body of Kevin Phipps. Unfortunately for the agents, the only thing that matters to Bishop now is this case. They don’t know what a pain in the ass a determined New York City police detective can be. He looks over at Laura and Justice and smiles, which only serves to confuse Laura even more.
Relax. This isn’t over. That’s the message Bishop is hoping to send to Saunders and Justice.
The agents wheel the body out the door and down the hallway. They take possession of any evidence obtained at the scene, anything that could point back to Kevin Phipps was ever there was taken. As the other seven agents leave, the lead agent approaches Detective Bishop with what he considers to be words of wisdom.
“You have a bad habit of sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Detective. A word of caution: stay out of this. Go back to your pile of unsolved crimes. This will be the only warning you will get.”
Without another word, the agent turns and walks away.
“Damn fascist. GESTAPO!” Saunders yells.
Bishop doesn’t say or do anything. He just watches as the agents wheel the body out the door. Outmanned and outgunned, all he can do is watch, for now. After all, they say patience is a virtue. Saunders has a different approach.
“What the hell, Detective?” she says as she confronts Bishop. “You gonna just let ‘em walk right out?”
“Relax, Doctor. This isn’t over. Not by a long shot. The main question I want answered is how they knew we were here in the first place.”
CHAPTER 29
DETECTIVE BISHOP RETURNS to the station with one thing in mind: getting some answers.
Why would federal agents storm in to the M.E.’s office and take a dead body?
Who was Kevin Phipps?
Is this a witness protection issue? National security?
All of these thoughts swirl through Bishop’s mind as he strolls purposely to his captain’s office, completely oblivious to the usual activity in the station, ignoring the greetings he receives from some of his fellow officers. The only thing that matters now is getting some answers.
Bishop thinks the captain is giving him the runaround. The phone call earlier ordering him to the office before going to the scene. Sticking him with a partner. Without regard for the consequences, Bishop barges into the captain’s office.
“Excuse me for interrupting, Captain.”
“Bishop. What the hell—”
“Tell me what I need to know, Captain. Why did federal agents storm into the M.E.’s office and take the body of my victim?”
“What are you talking about, Bishop?” Captain Danvers says angrily.
“I’m talking about men in dark suits, Captain. Came into the M.E.’s office, armed with automatic weapons, and took the body. Something you want to tell me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t appreciate the accusation.”
“Yeah, I get it, Captain. This is just another jerk-off assignment where I’m supposed to just chase my tail; something to keep me out of the way. That about size of it?�
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“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Detective, and I sure as hell don’t have to answer to you. Now I suggest you park that tongue of yours before I send you home.”
Realizing he had gone too far, Bishop calms himself. No detective wants to be taken off of a case. To do so would be disastrous to their career. Bishop knows the next step after disciplinary action is either desk duty or walking a beat.
“Sorry, Captain. I’m just a little pissed off right now. Why would they take a dead body?”
“I don’t know and I don’t like it any more than you do, Bishop, contrary to what you may think. Let me talk to the brass, and see if I can come up with anything.”
“Thanks, Captain.”
“In the meantime, I have an unofficial point of contact at the FBI. Give him a call,” Danvers says as he hands Bishop the agent’s business card. “Don’t you think it might be a good idea to learn a little bit more about your victim instead of accusing me of lying?”
“Yeah,” Bishop says as he looks at the business card. “Supervisory Special Agent Benjamin Breer.”
“He might be able to help. By the way, where’s your partner?”
In all his haste, Bishop didn’t even realize Justice was not with him. He considers the possibility that he stayed behind with Dr. Saunders. Still, he should have let him know. Justice has a lot to learn about being a partner.
Bishop takes his cell phone out of his pocket as he’s leaving the captain’s office and speed dials his wayward partner.
“Detective Justice.”
“Where the hell are you, partner? You’re supposed to have my back.”
“Sorry, but I thought it would be best if I followed the agents out, maybe get some license plate numbers or something.”
“Well…good call,” Bishop says embarrassingly. “What did you find out?”
“What I expected. The body was loaded into a black van and the agents got into black sedans. Looked like CIA vehicles to me.”
“How do you know what CIA vans look like?”