by Caleb Meeks
Instinctively, I pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced him in the sternum, right where I had delivered the previous two blows. Due to the damage already done, blood quickly squirted out from the opening. It still didn’t stop him. I pulled the trigger again, hitting him in the shoulder this time. It threw his shoulder back, but his lower body kept it’s pace. He was steps from me at this point. I hesitated to pull the trigger again, and he was now standing right on top me. His hand raised, and I could see the piece of glass still in it. It had cut into his hand from the grip, but he didn’t let it stop him. Something inside me caused the gun to raise up, and my finger pulled the trigger. The bullet went up through the bottom of his jaw and up into his brain. Blood spattered across my face. He fell down and crumpled at my feet. I slid back against the wall in shock.
That was the first time I ever killed someone.
Chapter Thirteen.
Matthew Newman sat alone in the darkness of the gym. No one else was around, so the room was completely silent aside from the noise he was making. It wasn’t an eerie silence, or darkness, for that matter, it was a silence that the young man had found comforting for years. It let him be alone with his thoughts. Whether that was good or bad depended on the night. At this current moment, it was reminding him of everything he had put behind him. His life, his lies, his mistakes. The past has a nasty habit of staying with you, no matter what you do to leave it where it belongs.
He'd always had a liking for the gym, even from a young age. It started around sixteen, and had become a constant for him from then on. He got into it at such a young age, admittedly, because of the attention it got him. Working out incessantly got him the temporary physical attention he thought he wanted, but he quickly realized it became a place where he could go to escape everything going on in his life.
When his father would have another violent outburst, he could go to the gym to blow off the anger. When his mother recoiled into another wave of depression, he could go to the gym to have some space. Since his only sibling was his older brother, who was six years older and didn’t live at home, Matthew had near free reign to do whatever he wanted. His dad was usually gone and his mom never really paid attention, so he learned quickly that he could get away with most anything. He’d gotten himself into some trouble before, but his brother was always there to help him out. That created a strong bond between Matthew and Derrick, albeit a bond born from mischief and semi-illegal acts.
This night, he was vividly reminded again and again of those things he did. Every time a weight came up or went down, he winced. Not because of the pain of lifting, but because every time he lifted the weight, he felt the sting of another painful memory. It was a constant stream, and even though he had sought out forgiveness for all the mistakes he made, it still didn’t make the memories tolerable. There were still nights where he laid in bed, completely exhausted but unable to sleep. Like his past was just sitting on his chest, making it impossible to both sleep and move.
He’d reached the point of physical exhaustion at least fifteen minutes ago, but that rarely caused him to stop. Because he knew the guy who opened the gym, he had worked out a system where he could use it at the hours of the night when it wasn’t technically open. He liked the silence and privacy that he couldn’t get when other people were around, so he worked it out with the owner. Unfortunately, sometimes it caused him to lose track of time.
It was almost eleven o’clock at night, but he hadn’t realized, since his phone was in his bag on the other side of the room. Even though his whole body was trembling and practically numb from the constant pushing, he continued. He’d worked himself into a place in his mind where he lifted the weights as an act of unconscious habit, not by his own will. Eventually, though, the pain caught up to him and snapped him out of his trance like state. His breathing intensified, and he set the weights back down on the rack. Even though his body was pleading with him to stop, he pushed himself further.
He walked to the barbell lifting table. The signs throughout the gym encouraged you to not barbell lift without a spotter, but it wasn’t a rule he often gave much attention. He’d managed to reach a shaky agreement with his muscular system that he would only do a few reps, then he’d go home. He made it through the first two reps with little effort, but it was the last rep that become an issue.
Just stop now and go home. You’ve pushed it enough for today. A voice in his head told him. Even though he agreed that it would have been the wisest option, it wasn’t what he chose to do. He pushed it up the next three times with strong effort. From there on, his body gave less and less on each lift. He reached the eighth lift and he sensed it wasn’t going to happen, but pushed for it anyway. His left arm gave out on the way up, and the weight dropped towards him. He managed to move his body out of the direction of the falling object, and by some adrenaline-fueled strength, pushed the other end over the side with his right arm. The metal weight hit the ground, and the sound rung through the whole room. On its way down, however, the weight had slammed into his shoulder. There would end up being a nasty bruise, but considering everything that could have happened, it was a minor injury.
He stayed where he was for another couple minutes, but eventually noticed his phone vibrating on the other side of the room. He shakily sat up, and walked over to his bag The phone was vibrating at the bottom, but he managed to get to it before the vibrating stopped. The screen read that it was Cadman calling.
He flicked his finger across the screen. “Hey, sorry. I was at the gym and didn’t hear my phone.”
“That’s fine. I sent you a few texts, but decided it would be faster to call you.” Cadman said, sounding slightly rattled.
“Totally. Sorry again. What’s up?
“I wouldn’t normally call you this late, but we’ve got another scene, and I think you’ll want to get down here.”
“Okay, text me the address. I’ll be down there as soon as possible.” He said, breathing heavily. His shoulder starting to ache more.
“No need, it’s at the Barnaby building.” Cadman said.
Newman’s eyes widened. Aside from the building being a major tourist attraction, everyone knew of Hank Barnaby. His donations to the Police Academy garnered him a tremendous amount of respect. It surprised him that a crime could even go down there. “Okay, I’ll head over as soon as I can.”
“You sure you’re ok? You sound really out of breath.” Cadman said, now worry in his tone.
“Yeah, I’m good. Maybe went a little harder than I should have, but I’m fine.”
“Okay, see you soon.”
Newman hung up the phone, letting a few deep inhales and exhales bring some oxygen into his body. He managed to get the barbell back into place, so it didn’t look like anything happened. Then, he moved into the bathroom. He sloppily stripped off the wet workout clothes he put on when he arrived and stepped into the cold water of the shower. It sent chills down his spine, but helped cool down the temperature of his body. The spot on his shoulder was already turning purple, but he couldn’t give it much attention at the moment. He quickly washed himself and then got out, drying himself off as he walked back towards his bag. He grabbed his spare change of clothes and walked back into the bathroom. He finished drying himself off and stepped into the spare clothes he brought. Thanks to Cadman, he didn’t have to bring his uniform with him everywhere, so he was able to just put on a pair of black jeans, a white shirt, and black blazer on.
He took a moment to breathe, swallowed a mild pain killer for his shoulder, then grabbed his bag and keys and left the gym. He locked the door as per his agreement with the owner, and then stepped into the car.
The Barnaby building was right in the middle of the city, which was only about half an hour from the gym, and since it was so late, there wouldn’t be the standard traffic usually clogging the city. He did his best to drive without thinking back to the gym, but it had been a particularly difficult night. I guess when you’re doing important work, it’s easier to fall i
nto your past. The bruise and the pain was not unfamiliar to him, so the weight injury would more than likely bring back some equally as painful memories.
The drive was smooth, like he expected. There wasn’t much traffic on the roads, which allowed him to reach the building faster than he expected. The group of people outside the building was indicative that he had reached the right place. A mob of people had formed around the police line, and they were yelling at the officers around the scene. A large group of police were assigned to just maintaining the unruly crowd. The officers looked incredibly worn down, but were managing to hold the line.
He stepped out of the car and managed to push his way through the crowd. The gun and badge on his hip demanded respect that helped him.
“No ma’am, I’m sorry but I can’t let you in. This is a secured crime scene and there is no way I can let you in. The more you fight about this, the longer it will take. If you just let us do our jobs, then this will all go faster. Details will be given out when we are permitted to give them out, but as for right now, cooperation is the best thing you can for me.” An exhausted officer said to a woman trying to push past the officer into the scene. Even after he told her that, she pushed even harder. Matthew chose to step into the situation.
He walked up and gripped the aggressive woman’s shoulder, making sure she had complete attention on him. “Ma’am, you need to stop and calm down. I understand that this is a stressful time for you, but it’s also a stressful time for us. Especially when we have to deal with people like you. If you continue this childish act of pushy aggression, I have no problem letting the officer, whom you were just yelling at, put you into a squad car to wait out the time, and I just might personally slap on a count of disorderly conduct. Do I make myself clear?”
The woman stood stunned at the words she’d been told. Quite honestly, Newman was surprised as well. The officer looked to Newman and offered a nearly teary-eyed, “Thank you.”
Newman nodded to the man, and offered an appreciative smile. “You know where Cadman is?”
“Check the top floor. That’s where he was the last time I knew.”
“Thanks. Keep up the good work. I’ll try and get details to you guys as soon as I can.” Newman said to the man. His eyes filled with a subtle tinge of hope.
Newman turned and walked towards the building. There were officers scattered throughout the building, but he eventually made his way to the large golden elevator. He pushed the button and headed to the top floor. Given that it was the top floor, he had an inclination as to who the victim was.
Eventually he reached the top floor, and the doors opened. Officers filled the hallways. He found Cadman at the end of it, right near the large entrance to Barnaby’s office.
Cadman noticed him and nodded his head in greeting. Newman made his way over to Cadman, through the hallway of busy officers. Eventually he reached the man, though. He looked exhausted but was still put together in his usual suit.
“What happened here?” Newman asked.
“It’s carnage in there, Matt. I mean, the guy is just shredded.” Cadman said, clearly disturbed.
“Who’s the victim?” Newman asked, already knowing the answer.
“It’s Barnaby.” Both men took a moment to let it sink in.
“How does a man with power and money like Hank Barnaby end up getting murdered?” Newman asked, racking his mind trying to find an answer.
“The guy had enemies. A lot of them.” Cadman rattled off, something clearly disturbing him.
“Yeah, a lot of people have enemies. He just seemed to be the kind of man who would have a security entourage at all times to stop something like this.” Cadman was silent. Newman reached out and put his hand on Cadman’s shoulder. “You ok, Leo? Something sounds like its bothering you.”
Cadman looked up into Newman’s eyes. “It was Judas.” He sounded both angry and hopeless.
Newman’s heart sank slightly. It seemed like everything related to crime all led back to Judas. “Okay.” It seemed like all Newman could get out at the moment.
“There’s something else. Something…different about this case, though.”
A lump jumped into Newman’s throat. “What does that mean?”
“Get out your phone and open the recent news highlights.” Cadman said, a little more excitement in his voice.
“From which news agency?” Newman asked as he pulled out and unlocked his phone.
“Any of them.”
Newman’s curiosity peaked, and he went to the breaking news app he had on his phone. The number one story across all platforms, including all social media platforms, had the Barnaby building fortune involved. He clicked on one at random. Hank Barnaby donates 1.6 billion dollars to a number of sexual abuse charities. – The first line of the article read.
“One point six billion dollars.” Cadman repeated. Newman looked up at Cadman’s eyes, and both men shared a surprised moment. “And that’s not even the most surprising part of it all.”
“There’s more?” Newman asked in surprise.
Cadman handed Newman a thick folder from his hands. Newman opened them, and fingered through the pages of information. “What is all this?” He asked.
“Hank Barnaby had been convicted of twenty-seven different sexual assault crimes throughout his career. He somehow managed to pay his way through every single one of them. In that file, which was neatly waiting for us on the desk when we got here, is the name of every single person who was payed off, as well as amounts, important emails, and even current addresses.”
“So, I’m guessing Hank Barnaby was not the one who made those donations? And, was definitely not the one who put this treasure trove together?” Newman assumed.
“You would most likely be correct in that assumption.” Cadman said.
“I don’t even know what to make of it.”
“I know, I don’t know quite what to do with it either. It still means that we have another body, though.” That pulled the men back into the less cheerful reality of the situation.
“Yeah. May I?” Newman asked, questioning whether or not he could go into the room with the body.
“Yeah, you can. Be prepared, though. It’s hard to see. If you don’t want to see it, you don’t have to.”
Newman smiled at the caring nature of his partner. “It’s ok, boss. I can handle it.” They started to walk towards the door. “How’d you know it was Judas, though?” He asked in a hushed tone, since they were talking around so many other people.
Cadman stayed silent and pushed the door open. Newman’s question was answered as soon as the door opened. In big, runny letters, the word Judas was written, in blood, across the window. Just below the window was the familiarly brutalized body of Hank Barnaby. He was completely lacerated from head to toe. It was difficult to even recognize him.
Newman instantly leaned over to Cadman. “How are we treating this in relation to keeping the Judas case a secret?”
“For now, it’s just a confusing piece of evidence. That’s what we’ve been telling everyone.”
“Got it.” They had to be careful walking in the room due to the spattered blood. A few crime scene techs were processing the scene. They both stood in the doorway looking at the grisly scene in front of them. Something about it was getting at Newman, but it wasn’t the gory scene. It was something about the presentation Judas had left. He pushed it to the side for the moment when he saw Cadman yawn and try to quickly rub his eyes. “Hey, Leo, I know I don’t have the same title as you, but I can handle it from here. If you want to go home, I think you should. You look like you could use some rest.”
Cadman looked like he was going to try and put together some kind of rebuttal, but quickly dismissed the idea. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I got this. I’ll need you in the morning as fresh as possible to help me deal with the mess that this is going to create. Don’t worry about it.” Newman said, smiling.
“Okay, I’ll let you take it from here. Really
all that’s left is to make a public statement, which I’m sure you can handle. Leave out all the sensitive bits, you know the drill.”
“Yes, sir.” Both men laughed. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow, Matt.” Cadman walked to the elevator and stepped in. The doors closed, and he was gone. Newman turned back to the scene to get one look at it again. It seemed wrong to him, but he tried to dismiss it again. He had to go make a statement to the surely still-rowdy crowd, and then rest himself. The techs would have details in the morning, and until then, the most useful thing he could be doing was making sure he was in prime shape. He couldn’t imagine going home, though.
He walked into the elevator a few minutes later, and headed back down to the first floor. The doors opened, and he was instantly greeted with the sound of the bustling crowd. Camera flashes illuminated the area. He walked out and stepped into the middle of the street. All the crowd instantly turned to him, and became much quieter. News crews turned their cameras and recorders to him. One of the officers on site brought him a mic, so he could be heard across the crowd.
He inhaled, gathering his thoughts one final time. “Excuse me. My name is Officer Matthew Newman, and I have the information you’ve all been waiting for. The victim is Hank Barnaby.” The crowd let out a loud gasp. “I know it may come as a shock to you, but I should let you know that it has been unveiled that Mr. Barnaby has had a long history of sexual assault. We have only just become aware of this and will be investigating it further. As far as we know, it was his killer who donated the 1.6 billion dollars to the assault centers. For now, that is all the information we have. When more is found out, it will be released to the public upon approval. We are asking for privacy for the victim’s family and friends. Additionally, respect to our officers would be appreciated. This is all the information that will be given out and prying for more will not be tolerated. Thank you.” The crowd started to disperse.