Hector wipes his forehead, brushing his hair back.
“Laura, even I know that before every real life application, it’s always best to test the beta test.” Hector instructs Jessica to squeeze into the back with the undercover officers. He then climbs into the driver seat, shifts the gear into drive, and says, “Let’s end this bullshit.”
CHAPTER 11:
Edwin Cole sits in Dunkin Donuts, gazing out of the window. The time is just shortly after 9:00 am. Not that time matters to the man, as he has been up all night, wired from cocaine and dehydrated from the bottle of Irish whiskey he’d been drinking since about 3:00 am.
Dressed in a red and black Leatherman jacket, he sits there, doing nothing other than staring off into the air outside of Dunkin Donuts. His small cup of black coffee stands in front of his folded hands, untouched, unwanted, brought only so that he may sit there undisturbed. Words of his own design echo in his mind: Ed Wins, Ed don’t lose. Over and over, the words loop: Ed wins, Ed don’t lose. In the background of whatever other thoughts he might have: Ed wins, Ed don’t lose.
At about 9:06 am, a young man in a suit walks in and heads almost directly to the register, orders a sandwich and a coffee, and then promptly leaves. Although, Edwin barely notices him at first, something – much akin to a déjà vu – strikes him odd about the well-dressed man. Something is vaguely familiar about him; Edwin can almost swear that he knows the man. As the man exits with his breakfast items, Edwin diverts his eyes so as to not draw attention to the fact that he had been scrutinizing his face for the entire duration that he had been there.
Nothing else happens for approximately fifteen minutes as Edwin plays and replays a scenario over and over in his head. When he is confident that there are no other options to take, he gets up from his seat and proceeds to exit Dunkin Donuts, leaving his coffee behind, still untouched, steam no longer rising from the small holes in the cap.
Just as he’s approaching the subway entrance, he looks up and notices a very prominent police presence in the surrounding area. A closer look reveals that EMTs, as well as police, are inside the subway responding to some incident which is unbeknownst to Edwin. This instantly sets him upon a detour from his preconceived plans.
Nervously, Edwin walks around the subway entrance and away from the police activity. Inside his jacket pocket, his hand cradles a snub nose .357, thumb caressing the hammer, but gently so as to not cock it accidently. His eyes dart to and fro eventually landing on the name tag of a passing cop, H. Kelly, who makes a sharp right past him to descend down the stairs of the subway entrance.
Once he feels that he’s in the clear, Edwin lights a cigarette and puffs on it intensely, as if the smoke were the cure for the situation that ails him. For blocks and blocks, he walks with a blank expression in his wide eyes. To others walking the streets, he appears unhinged, zombie-like even, mechanically and systematically inhaling and exhaling stogy after stogy. The glare in his eyes intensifies from the drying effect of the cigarette smoke which worsens their bloodshot appearance. A white crust begins to form around his lips due to his cottonmouth. This does not deter him from lighting another cigarette mere moments after finishing his last. This continues until he finally succumbs to the dryness in his mouth and takes a swig from a small bottle of cheap liquor he has stashed in the back pocket of his jeans. The next stop he makes is at a phone booth to take a few bumps of cocaine before proceeding north on the Manhattan streets.
Fatigue and sleep deprivation begins to set in, but he doesn’t feel it due to the potency of the narcotics he’s been ingesting for hours now. Despite his obliviousness, the conditions begin to take their toll on his body and mind, affecting the latter much more drastically as time progresses and he thinks and rethinks the thoughts currently driving him to the brink of insanity. His obsession, all consuming, all engulfing, makes him an unpredictable variable in most situations. Fortunately for everyone other than those at the forefront of his thoughts, he is a man determined to cause a specific type of harm to a specific party of people. No one else matters. No one else is directly in harm’s way. Not to say that harm won’t swing their way anyhow.
The chemical unbalances which occur in the brains of psychopaths vary from person to person. Despite their differences, there exist actual disorders, a malfunctioning of the cranial organs in these people. Some cannot feel empathy, some see nothing wrong with violence. While there is nothing wrong with having anger and violent thoughts, Edwin chooses to act upon his negative urges time and time again in the worst possible fashion. Certain factors in Edwin’s life lead him to the enactment of his negative urges. He understands the full implications of what he plans to do. His plan is deliberate and calculated which should not be mistaken for a plan that is well thought out. Simply put, he has a certain end result in mind; how he gets there is irrelevant to him and insignificant to the universe.
There are many things in this life known to drive a man over the edge, but by far, love and heartache, are the most compelling. When a man, already known for his violent and erratic behavior, becomes obsessed with the one thing in his life which has been a constant in such a varying and chaotic world it becomes a dangerous situation for all parties involved. Factor in betrayal and infidelity and what that man becomes is a shadow, not of his former being, but of death itself.
For years, Edwin has led a life outside of the law, selling drugs, stealing cars, and even contracted killing. He has made a name for himself in the streets. Edwin Cole is often compared to Edward Coleman, one of the most notorious gangsters in the history of New York. A few months back, a lead detective assigned to investigate and eventually bring Edwin Cole in on sustainable charges stumbled upon a witness that he figured would be able turn years of fruitless investigations into a promising case. This witness was none other than Edwin’s long-time girlfriend, Jessica Caine.
*************
A few years ago, Edwin met a tall, redhead by the name of Jessica Caine, a waitress at Veniero’s bakery. The two met and instantly hit it off. Edwin charmed her with his street thug appearance and his unexpected ability to afford the same luxuries as celebrities. As a poor girl trying to support herself through college, Jessica quickly fell for the allure of a man who could support her as if he were someone who had come from money. The fairy tale soon wore off as she began to learn more about the nature of Edwin’s character. Jealous, violent, and too often intoxicated, Edwin true colors were bleak. While she never imagined having to resort to helping police apprehend him, she eventually learned, the hard way, that he would never let her leave him. Not alive at least.
Jessica met detective Santiago while being treated for multiple injuries stemming from a most unnecessary and cruel beating at the hands of Edwin. It had not been the first time he had hit her, but it had been the worst she’d ever been beaten. Bruised ribs, two blackened eyes, a concussion, and a bloody nose, that miraculously had not been broken, topped the list as the most significant physical injuries she had suffered that night. Despite the many deep tissue bruises, scratches, and cuts which her petite frame had sustained, there was an even greater injury to her mentality. The former Jessica, cheery, bright, energetic, and positive laid there on that hospital gurney as a broken shell of her old self. When Hector had arrived to question her – because Edwin Cole’s name had been dropped and he had been pursuing a possible lead in an ever-static case against him – about the beating, something unexpected occurred, his heart broke. He instantly fell for the battered, and yet still beautiful, girl. In a matter of seconds, it became personal.
At first, Jessica would not agree to press charges against Edwin, no matter how persuasive Hector had been. This changed when their relationship became intimate. It started out as a “routine check-in.” Hector arrived at her apartment, dressed in normal clothes, with no badge on him. Jessica became suspicious, not in an afraid way, but in a curious manner and questioned why Hector did not have a partner with him during this particular “check-in.” Coupled wit
h the fact that Jessica had already dropped the charges, she was able to piece two and two together, and saw—in Hector’s eyes—a man who was generally concerned for her well-being. This sweetness, one that had long been gone from the eyes of Edwin, calmed her, nearly moving her to tears. She initiated the physical contact, draping her arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly. Naturally, Hector hugged her back and, for the first time in a very long time, she felt safe. Next, and right before they kissed, Jessica took the first step towards a long recovery and expressed to Hector how she felt about herself right then and there.
“Why would you want me, Hector? I’m nothing but a fucking ragdoll,” she said to him. Her weak state hurt him, creating a lump in his throat which would not budge even after he tried to swallow several times. When he had regained the ability to talk, he spoke the words which set Jessica on a path to recovery and into a long and complex affair with the married detective.
“You are everything that is beautiful and I won’t leave you alone, not to be hurt again. Not ever again,” he whispered to her.
*************
The sky above and behind Edwin darkens with grim clouds following him north as the storm approaches the city from south of the island. Darkness literally trails behind him. Faint rain drops fall, one occasionally landing on Edwin’s skin and met with indifference as if it was not felt, possibly due to the amount of face-numbing cocaine in his system.
After walking for a span of time that both feels like forever and only moments, Edwin finds himself on First Ave. Soon enough, he looks up and sees that he’s arrived at Tenth Street, one block away from his destination. His fingers twitch as one digit curls and uncurls around the trigger of the pistol concealed in his pocket.
In a matter of seconds, the sky opens up and begins to pour heavily upon the Earth. This doesn’t bother him; he walks unperturbed, intent on getting where he was going. At the corner of Eleventh he’s struck by a commanding sensation of déjà vu unlike any he has ever felt before. It doesn’t just feel like he’s been there before, it feels like he’s been there before multiple times. This feeling confuses Edwin to such a great degree that he becomes somewhat disoriented. His bewilderment is accelerated when he catches a glimpse of a person he swears he has seen before, recently at that, but cannot remember when and where. Suddenly, the mental image of a cup of untouched coffee comes to his mind. Almost like a mnemonic, it serves to help him recall the familiar man’s face. He had seen the man briefly at Dunkin Donuts; this was just about fifteen minutes before he exited intent on taking the train but forced to take a detour away from the cop-heavy subway station.
Edwin’s eyes stay on the man, watching him as he takes off running. If he had to take a wild guess, Edwin would say that the man was running from the storm. Technically, he isn’t wrong, holding merit in both the literal and the figurative sense of things.
CHAPTER 12:
Hector foots the gas, accelerating the car forward at an unnecessary and dangerous pace. In the passenger seat, Laura Cohen grips the straps of her seatbelt and buckles herself in. The two officers and Jessica sit squeezed together in the backseat of the car with Jessica sitting by the right window.
Given that First Avenue is a one-way street heading north, Hector makes a right turn, then another right, placing him and the other occupants of the vehicle on Avenue A heading south. At about Thirteenth Street, the patchy and infrequent drizzle becomes a full on thunderstorm. Hector eventually makes another right turn on Eleventh Street.
Driving more aggressively than is needed, Hector finds himself simultaneously driven by two motives, that of defending his mistress and that of retrieving the card which Laura Cohen had inadvertently given to the young man just a while earlier. Both are of equal importance to him and interrelated, although Hector has no idea of their relation in the grander scheme of things. The card, which Will still possesses, had been intended for a different purpose, to help track and eventually incriminate Edwin Cole. The problem with this is the high level of unlawfulness involved with tracing an individual in such a manner. Laura Cohen, who was well aware of the unconstitutionality of such actions, was the plan’s main proponent.
Today, she had been set to give Edwin the card, the one with the bug, while under the false pretense of being against Hector Santiago for suspicions of illegal and unconstitutional police tactics. The card, she would have explained, would essentially be a get out of jail free card. If sold to him correctly, Edwin would carry the card on him at all times.
Once Edwin possessed the card, Hector’s boys—the ones in the back of the car—would begin to tale Edwin until an opportunity for an arrest with the potentiality of substantial charges arose. That chance was supposed to be today. However, the technology was supposed to be tested prior to actual field application, an error on Cohen’s side. Retrospectively, the hopeful A.D.A. would have had another chance to test the application if she had not first run into William. Hector, the target of her agenda, would not have been where she was headed to in the morning; he had been out all night, drinking and snorting cocaine. This would have given her and Hector’s boys more than enough time to test and calibrate the application’s GPS feature, had she not mistakenly given the card to Will.
Although she has yet to admit it to herself, her blunder occurred because she had been charmed by Will’s response to the situation she had witness in the subway earlier, forgetting the special card in her purse and giving him the first one she managed to find. Wrapped up in the comedic nature of the episode, she found herself in a position to persecute him, if only to get close to him. Her reasoning being: a little probation never hurt anybody. Plus, it’d give her a chance to learn his name, the one he conveniently did not remember.
Barely visible in the rain battered windshield, a male figure in a suit runs across the street, a couple of dozen feet ahead of where their car is rapidly approaching. They speed pass a pedestrian in a red and black letterman, paying no attention to him whatsoever. Hector brings the car to a stop midway between Veniero’s, where Will had entered, and the corner of the block where the street meets the avenue. Everyone exits the vehicle. The officers ready their weapons and radios, just in case they need to call in a certain unexpected, escalated situation. Jessica and Laura stay by the car.
As the officers approach the front entrance, a shot rings through the air. Quickly shifting their focus towards the source of the gunfire, they see a man in a red and black Leatherman jacket aiming a smoking pistol in the direction of the two ladies, both of whom are ducking behind the car. The officers open fire, seeking cover behind cars and even laying on the floor as they return shots at the suspect. Edwin manages to avoid being shot as he dives behind the brick wall of the corner building.
A few non-eventful but tense seconds pass by, followed by a few more. Hector begins to rise from his knee, his tactical position. He gives his boys the gesture to proceed with caution. The two officers spread out, covering more ground. Hector looks over his shoulders, his eyes eventually fall on the glass door of Veniero’s, landing on a most unexpected sight, his wife, Ruth. He’s instantly stunned, frozen in his confusion. It last only a second, but sometimes one second is all that is needed to change a lifetime.
Another shot is fired. This one pierces through Hector’s neck. Ruth screams and without thinking rushes outside to her husband’s side. In the confusion, an officer named Corey discharges his gun in the direction he believed the shot to have come from. Two bullets sink into Ruth’s chest, one exits her torso, hitting the wall behind her. The force of the bullets sends her crashing through the bakery’s shattering glass door. Will watches from inside the bakery, horrified at what he sees.
After a few seconds of shock, Heather attempts to run out to her sister. Will catches her mid-sprint and holds her tightly, afraid that she might be shot as well. She struggles, crying hysterically as she tries to free herself from Will’s grasp.
More gunshots ring through the air outside.
“Let
go,” Heather pleads with Will. “Please, just let go.” Her words become broken, intermixed with sobs and heaves, unaided by the shortness of breath from struggling against Will’s strong embrace.
“I can’t. I can’t let you go. It’s not safe.”
“I don’t care,” she manages to speak through worsening cries. “She’s my sister.”
Just then, as he holds onto her, a strange sensation befalls upon him. The fear of physical harm subsides and for a brief moment he understands what the gypsy-looking girl had attempted to explain to him earlier. He sees how his involvement with Laura Cohen has led all parties to this catastrophic event. Even though his comprehension is limited by perspective, and only his own at that, he understands how easily paths can cross. The one thing he, in the here and now, does not grasp is how he is at fault, ironically through no fault of his own, for the tragedy that has claimed two lives thus far.
Another series of gunshots reverberate through the rain-scented atmosphere. Heather’s body becomes still, finally accepting Will’s embrace. The thud of a heavy, large object booms behinds them, competing with the gunshots outside. Will’s quick peak over his shoulder reveals Milton, on the floor clutching the left side of his chest with his right hand, lying next to a tipped-over table and two chairs on their sides. On the big man’s face is a look of physical agony. Will recognizes it instantly. Milton is having a heart attack.
Will doesn’t know why, but he cannot bring himself to let go of Heather. Another few seconds pass before faint images of the night before begin to materialize in his mind. Up until now, Will could not remember any detail concerning his life before he found himself awake at the bathroom mirror.
*************
The night prior to Will waking up at his mirror, he and Heather sat, side by side, on the Ping-Pong table at Thompson Square Park. It was shortly after midnight and the park was supposed to be closed, but this didn’t stop the two from hoping over the fence and entering the park anyway.
INITIUM NOVUM: Part 1 Page 8