Broken Seed

by R J Machado De Quevedo

  “That’s an attractive new look,” I said cynically as I recognized the entrance to Kate’s Café.

  “It may not look like it right now, but earlier tonight, absolute chaos broke out right here behind these quiet restaurant doors. Here in downtown Elk Grove, Kate’s Café, has been standing in good name and reputation for over three decades. It’s been in the Sacramento Magazine several times for being a ‘must visit’ here in the Sacramento area. Good food, great staff, and always a welcoming festive atmosphere. They’ve only had the police called out to this location five times in the last thirty-six years and only to have an out of hand, intoxicated customer escorted off the premises. Nothing more. Tonight, however, was the sixth call and nothing as mundane as a mere drunk.

  “Tonight, several 911 calls were made from concerned customers dining here at Kate’s Café. At first, the 911 dispatchers thought they were getting a stream of prank calls, but soon learned otherwise as they heard reports back from officers dispatched to the scene. The callers reported an outbreak of violence and what could best be described as an out-of-control riot. The first officers on the scene called for backup immediately, thus confirming that this was no prank.”

  Mark’s steady polished voice with its well-rehearsed high and low inflections had sucked me into the story and had left my father and Jared in the mental dust for now. The distraction was working.

  “The callers reported that most of the employees and customers had attacked each other or were engaged in heated arguments. Allegations as to how the chaos unfolded were so diverse actually instigated the fights. A full investigation will no doubt be necessary to hold those responsible accountable for any damages suffered to the personal property of the business and for the physical damages or injuries of those who are claiming to be victims.”

  “We’ve requested copies of the 911 calls, but they have not yet been released. From what we’ve been told by the investigating officers, after listening to the 911 calls and speaking to some of the eye witnesses, they may never know what the beginning factors were or who all the responsible parties of tonight’s violent outbreak were. However, the shocking behavior described and the diverse complexity of the stories only seem to add to the confusion. It leaves one’s imagination wide open to interpretation as to what may have actually taken place here tonight and how a popular restaurant whose staff has such a good reputation could have acted so out of character as to be nearly impossible to believe.”

  “Have you been able to speak to any of the eye witnesses yourself, Mark?” the anchor woman asked in an award-winning, interested tone.

  “Well, Donna, we stopped by the hospital to interview some of those involved, but the staff at the hospital didn’t want their patients’ privacy invaded by our cameras. We have been unable to speak directly with any of them as of yet. Those who were not injured or arrested left the scene shortly after police arrived. The police made plenty of arrests tonight, of course, including the owner of the restaurant, Frank Gable, for assaulting an officer. We’ll be contacting him once he’s been processed to see what he has to say. We’re told one of the waiters had to help officers close the restaurant down due to a lack of available staff and the strong concern from the police the mood of those left behind might escalate into another brawl.” Mark paused dramatically, waiting for another question from Donna.

  “Mark, we’ve been informed by our contacts at the Sacramento Police Department that they had to go to Elk Grove to assist. Why did they get involved tonight in the Elk Grove Police’s call? Isn’t that out of their jurisdiction?” Donna asked with disbelief in her voice.

  “Yes, Donna, your source is absolutely correct. The Elk Grove Police had a multitude of calls tonight requiring most of their officers to be elsewhere. They were short staffed already due to budget cuts, and with the size of the problem at Kate’s Café, they needed more assistance and reinforcements.

  “Apparently, it isn’t uncommon for neighboring departments to help each other out when they need the back up and are sent out as additional support. As long as they are invited in, they can act under that authority. The Elk Grove Police Chief, Ronald Davis, admitted to me over the phone he was happy to hand over the lead to the Sacramento Police Department on this one. It was a good thing they were there too being that nearly the entire restaurant was worked up into a frenzy.”

  “Were you able to interview Chief Davis in person as well?” Donna asked.

  “No. He declined to go on camera. He would only speak to me over the phone. He said he was too busy to wait around for us to arrive,” Mark said with the perfect amount of disappointment in his voice.

  “Have you had a chance to speak to any other officers yet, Mark?” Donna pressed.

  “Yes, Donna, I did. I was told by Chief Davis that the chief of the Sacramento Police Department had personally overseen his department’s involvement tonight and had arrived on the scene alongside them. We stopped by the Sacramento Police Station and were greeted by Chief Christopher Wales himself. We have some footage of that interview.” Mark stopped, and the camera faded out to the slightly earlier recording.

  Chief Christopher Wales stood tall and straight outside his precinct. The enormous building loomed up behind him as if he had the entire structure standing at attention at his flanks. Wales had sandy-blond hair and that beach tan skin that some blonds get. His eyes were the coldest, chilling pale-blue I had ever seen. His lips were thin and wide. So that’s what he looked like. Good to know who had it in for you, ya know?

  “Thank you, Chief Wales, for speaking to us. Can you explain what happened at Kate’s café tonight and what you think lead up to the disturbance?” Mark questioned him.

  “Sure, Mark,” the chief ’s voice was firm and deep. He spoke like a man of confidence and authority. Everything about him showed he was a serious cop, and he demanded respect. He was a decent-looking man as far as late forties go. No sign of gray in his hair, clean shaven, his uniform was well cared for, polished and pressed, and he had a solid, strong frame. Only the scowl line between his eyebrows and the deep-set crow’s-feet by his eyes gave away his age. He didn’t even have a flabby gut that I could tell. He looked fit and muscular. Intimidating.

  “When my department got the call from the Elk Grove Police Department requesting our assistance, we didn’t hesitate. Serve and protect isn’t just a snappy phrase on our cars. It’s what we strive for on the job and in our personal lives,” he said this with an air of pride and arrogance.

  Gag me. I can’t stand cocky men.

  The sad thing was it didn’t surprise me he’d come across that way after he had used my father as an excuse to try and bully me into not calling them for help dealing with Jill and the others anymore. He’d have to have some arrogance to do that. Most bullies did.

  “When my officers and I arrived, some customers were already outside trying to flag us down for help. Some of the Elk Grove Police Officers were struggling to gain control over those resisting arrest and some combative customers and employees. It wasn’t pretty.” He paused, looking satisfied with being able to report the Elk Grove Police’s incompetence.

  “We proceeded to handle the situation. We helped break up several brawls. Almost the entire restaurant had gone mad. Those few bystanders not arguing, fighting, or assaulting our officers by hurling objects at them were pulled off to the side and questioned as to what they had witnessed.

  “Unfortunately, each version of the story was drastically different. No one seemed to know what caused any of it. It was the same with those we arrested. Everyone showed signs of disorientation and confusion. They seemed to be unsure as to what had caused them to go off on people they had been peaceably working with for years. And customers who had gone out to eat with family or friends had no idea what had caused them to end up fighting amongst themselves or with the staff.

  “We have requested all photos or video captured by any of the cell phones at the restaurant tonight be turned in as evidence, so we can review th
em and try to further understand what took place. Unfortunately, no one has admitted to pulling out their phones. That is also suspicious given this day and age.” The chief had lost some of his confidence by the end of his explanation. I doubted he liked admitting he had failed to piece the facts together.

  “So you weren’t able to ascertain what started the fights?” Mark asked.

  “No, not at this time,” Wales admitted grudgingly. “We will be investigating this further, make no mistake about it. The DA will want a full report before she will want to file all the final charges,” some authoritative determination rising in his voice.

  “Will you be having a forensic unit out to run tests for possible chemical or toxic influences at the restaurant? Perhaps there is an explanation for the bizarre and uncharacteristic behavior?” Mark asked personably.

  “You mean like a chemical weapon attack?” Wales said, a little shocked.

  “Well, yes. Do you think it’s possible?” Mark asked boldly.

  I liked Mark. He was asking all the questions I had been thinking.

  “I think, Mr. Jerseyman, you are looking for a bigger story here than what there really is. Perhaps we should pick this conversation back up later when you have regained your professional poise,” Chief Wales snapped. The arrogance was back.

  Mark paused and placed his hand up to his ear as if he was listening to some information coming into his ear piece.

  “We’ve been informed that several people had been injured and were taken to the hospital for treatment. To your knowledge, what was the nature of the injuries?” Mark asked Chief Wales, ignoring the personal attack on his journalistic skills.

  Wales didn’t look too happy about being ignored but seemed to think better of pressing the issue. He glanced at the camera, a plastic smile on his face as if the answer to this question was pleasing news. “Well, Mark, most of the injuries are merely superficial wounds, minor lacerations, bloody noses, and such. The worse injury sustained was by one elderly woman who suffered a minor heart attack out of shock from all the excitement.”

  “I have no doubt that in the pursuit of the truth behind tonight’s events, you will be requesting the hospital to take blood samples from the injured, if they aren’t doing so already, and mandating your jail’s medical staff to do the same, just in case there is a chemical or environmental explanation to the mass outbreak of violence. Let’s be honest here, Chief, simply going to work or out to eat for an hour couldn’t possibly have caused tonight’s rioting behavior or interpersonal attacks to rival the symptoms of cabin fever or some other psychological or physiological conditions. After all, not everyone could possibly have been drunk at a nice café like this, could they?” Mark said, smiling up at the chief.

  “Oh. Gotcha. Nice one, Mark,” I said to the TV.

  “No doubt,” Chief Wales said back, his own smile growing. It wasn’t growing in a nice way. It was more of an I’m-going-to-smile-while-I-break-your-bones-and-eat-your-flesh sort of way.

  Mark turned back to the camera and said jubilantly, “Thank God for our men in uniform that come to our aid and serve and protect,” a slight twinkle in his eyes at his not so subtle sarcastic remark.

  The scene faded back out and then returned to Mark standing live out in front of Kate’s Café. He was wearing the same, silly grin. Apparently, he had amused himself.

  “Mark?” Donna said almost tentatively. “Was anything else said once the camera turned off that you think the public would need to know tonight? Should we be concerned? Did you get the impression Chief Wales would be willing to accept the possibility this might have been some sort of chemical attack?”

  “Not exactly, Donna. When the camera was off, he did try to convince me in so many words that Kate’s Café was the most unlikely place imaginable for any kind of terrorist attack. He said no threats have been made to the police about any coming attacks and so far, no one has come forward to take responsibility for it. Most groups would want their names flashed in the press to strengthen their cause and to promote fear.”

  “That may be true, Mark. But I think you had a good point that it may have also been environmental. People seemed genuinely confused and unable to recall their involvement. That sounds like being drugged. Perhaps there should be an investigation into that as well.”

  “I agree, Donna. We can’t assume to tell the police how to do their jobs, but perhaps they might consider listening to a humble reporter’s opinion from time to time.” He smiled, flashing his shiny big teeth at the camera.

  Oh yes. Mr. Charming. So innocent. He wasn’t looking for a bigger story here. Oh no. Not little ol’ Mark Jerseyman.

  “Did the police mention to you what kind of charges they are talking about right now?” Donna asked conversationally.

  “So far, the majority of the arrests were for resisting arrest, assault and battery, assault on an officer, and rioting. As Chief Wales stated, it will be up to the DA to consider the final charges, but right now, that is what they are holding people for. Ironically, public intoxication was not listed in the charges thus far,” Mark said with a lilt of humor to his voice. “And from what I was told by my sources, some of the parties injured and arrested are already making threats to sue the restaurant or the police departments for excessive force. Until an actual cause is found and proof obtained other than hearsay, they may not have much of a case.” Mark was back to using his professional high and low inflected voice.

  “However, my contact at the jail told me several of the people sent to the hospital for treatment are claiming that some of the officers got carried away and started beating them with their clubs. This was reported to them by some employees of the restaurant. I believe he said they were the cooks.”

  Oh no. Poor George and Francisco!

  “However, if anyone had sustained a beating with an officer’s club, they would have, no doubt, been injured far worse than the injuries Chief Wales reported anyone sustained.” Mark tried to keep his professional tone and a natural expression. But a slight uneven smile was lifting the right side of his mouth, fighting to get out. I think he liked creating a possible scandal around the chief. I don’t think Mark liked being spoken to the way he had been by the bigger man.

  Hmm, maybe Mark and I should have a talk sometime about the chief.

  “Back to you, Donna,” Mark said, smile now under control.

  “Was there anything else your sources told you about how this case is being handled or what is being said behind closed doors?” Donna was really digging. She must want to make sure she got all the juice out of this story before they returned the viewers to their regularly scheduled program. Or maybe her journalistic instincts could feel a bigger story hiding just out of their reach.

  Mark seemed to think hard about it for a moment. Then his expression changed to one of excitement and said, “I can’t believe I almost forgot this, yes! The Elk Grove Police Chief mentioned that when they first started questioning the eye witnesses, some said they could vaguely recall a tall man with black hair down to his shoulders making a scene at the front register. The only problem was, that was all anyone could remember. They couldn’t say how long he had been there, who he had been arguing with or when he had left.”

  Oh, thank God! No one remembered me, just like David said. That must be God.

  “Shortly thereafter, the Sac PD spoke with the witnesses again for their own investigation. Unfortunately, they didn’t even remember mentioning the mystery man to Elk Grove officers at all. It was like this man was a figment of their imaginations or they all shared the same dream. That would be strange all on its own, but the odd thing is, it wasn’t only one or two people who remembered seeing him. There were eight different reports from eight different parties. Other than that odd development, no, there hasn’t been anything else newsworthy to report,” Mark said smoothly with a rounding off tone to show he was concluding his piece.

  “That is odd, Mark. Very disturbing, indeed. And no one had the presence of mind to try
and record anything with their cell phones. How unexpected. What about the restaurant? Did it have any cameras?” Donna said, looking bewildered.

  Then Mark’s face lit up. “Actually, Chief Wales told me he asked to see the restaurant’s video surveillance. However, the owner, Frank Gable, had informed him it had not been working for some time and he hadn’t gotten around to hiring anyone to fix it. He left it up as a deterrent only.” Mark looked truly amused now. He was loving this story and all the unanswered questions. It meant he’d have a lot of follow-up stories to do in the coming days.

  “After receiving that disappointing information, the chief assigned an officer to take photos of every car and license plate in the parking lot as well as the crime scene. He seemed to think it may come in handy to make sure they get to interview everyone who was present tonight. He didn’t seem satisfied with the information he had already collected and thought this might help him gather more information to answer some of these questions.

  “He had also asked the owner for permission to pull the work schedule for the staff tonight. He said he already noticed some discrepancies with those listed on the schedule and those who they didn’t show interviewed or accounted for yet. Of course, there could be any number or reasons for that. Someone called in sick, they’d left work early before the madness started, and some of the staff might have switched shifts and not written it down.

  “It’s too early in the investigation process to start looking for a devil’s advocate given how discombobulated and dysfunctional all of the information is they have so far, but it may lead to something. We’ll have to wait it out and see. Back to you, Donna,” Mark said with finality in his voice this time.

  Donna took the hint. “Thank you, Mark,” Donna said with a pleased, professional smile.