The Detective

Kristián Šimek

Blood. Zigzagging between those bathroom tiles. Crimson red blood. It takes no genius to find the source of this mess. Hanging upside down from the ceiling is a human torso. Even though the murder has gutted it good, you can still tell it used to be a woman. Geez, he messed her up good. I reached in my pocket for a pack of cigs, trying to ignore the young officer vomiting next room.

"So... got any ideas?"

Dallas. I hate this guy, I really do. However, as long as I am the detective, I must endure him and just hope he gets hit by a truck.

"Nope" I say, as I reach for my lighter.

"Well, whoosh. The press is really going to enjoy this."

"Why would you think that?"

"Well it's the third homicide this week. The style looks kind of similar."

I let off a slight chuckle. Who does he think he's playing with? Style, what a foolish way to call it. The way I see it, we've got a maniac on the loose. I throw my cigarette on the ground and promptly exit the building. Darn city weather. It's raining again.

"Detective Floyd?" a woman's voice says behind me.

"Yep, that's me ma´am, what do you need."

She opens her purse, pulls out a badge.

"Jennifer Gonzales, FBI."

Darn. I was pretty sure I was handling this all right.

"Any reason you are here, Ms. Gonzales?"

She puts the badge back in her purse, she looks kind of nervous. She may be a fresh meat; she's got the age.

"Yeah, the Bureau noticed a pattern in the recent three murders here. They sent me to investigate."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

She gets a little confused.

"Well, you are the lead detective on this case, right?"

"Yeah, I am, but unless you have direct orders in that purse of yours, I can't let you in on that case. And don't bother flashing your badge again, that won't work on me. I advise you to catch the next plane to Washington, go get a desk job."

With that I turned around. I was going to go home and get some sleep.

"Actually..." she says behind me "I've got the papers right here. So..."

"So, nothing, that's all we got."

She just had to see it. I had to take her to the station, show her some files. She had to see for herself that we had nothing. No ID, no fingerprints, nothing we could hang on to. The guy was like a shadow, the only thing indicating his presence was a trail of dead bodies.

"There has to be something."

She looked desperate.

"Like what? If this was easy, I would already have the lunatic in jail."

I light another cigarette.

"You ever going to stop that?"

She looks at me.

"What? This is my station; I can smoke as much as I want."

"Fine, okay."

She leans back into the files.

"Hey, what's this?"

"Eh? Oh right, some CV camera took a picture of some random guy, fleeing from one of the scenes. Before you ask, yes we already looked into it."

"Okay, where is it?"

She looks curious. Of course she does, she's young, she expects everything to be served to her on a silver plate.

"56 Yellow street, next to the grocery store."

"Fine."

She starts to get up.

"Where are you going?"

"There, I will try to find something."

Darn it. She was dumb before, now she wants to get herself killed.

"Hold on, I will go with you."

"Why?"

"Yellow Street is not exactly the nicest part of town. Double that considering you are an FBI agent."

Why is she now giving me the angry look?

"Let's go, come on!"

56 Yellow Street. Frankly a disgusting place if you ask me. We arrived as the sun was setting.. She swiftly walked up the stairs, leading to the crime scene. The police tape was long gone, so was most of the key evidence. What was left by us, was taken by thieves. Nothing stays in place in this neighborhood. She dropped on her knees, quickly indicating the spot where the dead guy was.

"Who was he?" she asked without even looking at me.

"Roger Harrison, around forty-six years. Used to be a bus driver."

"Any similarities with other victims?"

I shrugged.

"Nope, they just found him here one day, with his internal organs on the floor. Poor guy was dead for days before someone finally found him."

She got up and pulled a notepad from her pocket.

"I'd like to see the body."

"I would love to tell you I cannot do that, but alas, you are the one giving orders here so, lets go."

I walked out of the door, just as a bullet swooshed right past my head.

"Get down!" I shouted and pulled out my gun.

The sucker is hiding in one of those windows across the street. Well if it's our killer, he has some guts. I leaned around a corner and fired blankly, barely evading the hail of lead that came in response.

"What is going on?" I hear Ms. FBI agent shout at me from inside the flat.

"Stay in there!"

"I have training, I can help you!"

Dang it. "No! For god sakes, stay on the f..."

I was not able to finish that sentence. From around a wall, a gargantuan man appeared.

"Oh, darn."

And then he threw me down the stairs.

"It's coming!" he shouted, "the rapture is near, there is nothing you can do about it!"

Ok, this guy is nuts. I tried to get up, but my leg is busted. Darn, I had never broken a bone until now.

"Well ok big guy." I say, leaning against a wall. "Rapture eh? We'll see ´bout that."

He lets out a gust of air and charges me. Come on big guy, come at me! I close my eyes, expecting to die upon impact. Then, I hear a gunshot. I slowly open my eyes. Ms. FBI is standing there herself, a smoking gun in her hands.

"Told you I have training."

I smile, just a little.

"Well one thing is for sure," she says while putting the gun away, "things like this don't happen in Washington."

"Sorry Floyd, but that is not our guy."

Dallas is looking at me, with a smug look on his face. I hate that guy, I really do.

"How come you are so sure?"

He smiles a little.

"Well, while you and Ms. Gonzales had your little shootout, we found two other bodies."

I stood up, only to fall back in my chair. Even though my leg was not broken, I still wasn't able to walk.

"Fine..." I sigh "any clues?"

Dallas suddenly changed expressions. Now he seems almost eager to share something with me.

"Well in fact, it seems this time he was in a hurry."

"You kidding me?"

"No detective. He was probably in great distress and left a critical clue."

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a wallet.

"Now you are just joking Dallas." I say. "No self-respectable murder would leave a wallet on a crime scene, especially not one who has been escaping the police for such a long time."

His face took on a sad tone.

"Well okay."

Then, we heard a gunshot. And another one. The whole station was trembling with sounds of gunfire.

"What the hell is that?" Dallas shouted and quickly ran from the room.

Bastard. He knows I can't walk, yet he leaves me here to what, die? The gunshots grow closer. I suppose I am running out of time. I try to get up, hop on just one leg. There is no one in the corridor. To the right, towards the elevator. Suddenly I trip over something. There it is. A body and a shotgun. I picked up the shotgun, might come in handy. The body used to be officer Frederickson, poor guy, he wanted to retire in a few months.

Suddenly, the gunfire stops.

Only one sound can be heard. A woman, crying. I abandon the idea of going to the elevator and jump my way towards the cry. As it grows closer, I recognize the source. It's agent Gonzales.

"NO, please..." she pleads "I don't know where it is, please stop."

I jump one last time. They are in the break room. There is Dallas, his brain splattered across the wall. There is Gonzales, weeping on the ground and there is the killer. Dressed in a jacket, with a biker helmet on his head, he is pointing a gun directly on her solar plexus.

"Hey!" I shout, to get his attention.

He turns around and sees me holding up his wallet.

"That's right you dumb psycho, you lost something right?"

He raises his hands, drops his gun.

"Now that's going to cost you something."

And with that, I pull the trigger.

It's over. It all is. Agent Gonzales returned to Washington to report to the Bureau. I honestly don't expect to see her anytime soon. The guy was unlucky enough to survive my poorly aimed shotgun shot. I say unlucky, because of what he did, he will probably not enjoy the remainder of his life. Guys from the court said something about shooting him to space, but honestly, I couldn't care less. I am just glad this is all behind us now. And honestly, now that I think about it, I kind of really miss Dallas now.