Chapter 4
The Stakeout
Thorsen
All being said and done, yesterday was a success as much as a disaster, but I remained optimistic. A pissed-off partner was better than no partner at all, although I couldn’t understand why he got mad at me last night. When he showed up at Pete’s, I was so happy I couldn’t stop myself from hugging him, but it only made him green in the face. Then I sat beside him, hoping to chat with him a bit, but he got himself into a fight. I gave him a ride home, during which he mostly ignored me. Still, it was merely the first step toward our friendship. I was sure of it.
“You’re delusional.”
“What?” I said, snapping back to reality.
“Chief Bibb would never authorize it,” Carter replied as we entered a strip club called Allure.
“Right,” I murmured, remembering my previous suggestion that we enter the bar undercover. The police badges always made everyone so tight-lipped.
“I’m Detective Thorsen, and this is Detective Carter,” I said to the girl behind the bar, flashing my badge. “Do you perhaps know this woman?”
“I love your accent,” she said, ignoring the photo I showed her. “Are you French?”
“Can you answer the question, please?” Carter cut in, sounding annoyed.
“I don’t know her,” she replied, popping her gum. “But I’m new here.”
“I’m not.”
At the sound of another voice, we all looked up, only to find ourselves faced with a vagina. Candy, the stripper whose name we learned afterward, was more than cooperative.
“I don’t know her either, sorry to say,” Candy said, peering at the photo. “But I would like to know you.”
She smiled at Carter, who gave her one of his glares.
“He’s taken, sweetheart,” I said, slipping a bill into her stocking. “Here’s a little donation from Mayor Dick.”
Carter looked at me in confusion. “Mayor who?”
“The bastard who set me up,” I grumbled. “The mayor of New Mesa, Boggs. He’s the reason I ended up in this shithole.”
“Wait. Is it really true that you—?”
I raised my hands in surrender. “It was consensual. And she was way over eighteen.”
“Who are you?” Carter said, shaking his head in disbelief. “And how dumb can you be?”
“Yes, who are you?” Candy repeated, shaking her boobs at me. “And are you single?”
I grinned. “Single, morally corrupt, and STD-free.”
“Check, check, and check,” she said merrily. “Where do I sign?”
“Nowhere,” Carter snapped. “Get lost.”
“You didn’t have to be rude,” I scolded him after she left.
“Then stop flirting on the job.”
I waved my hand dismissively. “I always flirt. Men, women, even grumpy partners. Flirting is innocent fun.”
“Excuse me, do you know this woman?” Carter asked a half-naked server dressed in short shorts passing by us.
“Maybe,” he said, glancing at the photo. “Why do you ask?”
“We’re nosy,” I replied. “Spill it out.”
“She was here the other night. Caused a fight. Bob threw her out, along with the guy who was with her.”
“Bob?”
“Yeah. He works as a bouncer here.”
“Can we talk to him?”
“Yeah… Wait, no. He hasn't shown up for work since yesterday.”
“Really?” I murmured, admiring the wonderful coincidence.
“What about the man who came with her?” Carter asked him. “Do you know him?”
“Never saw him before in my life. They both looked out of place, to be honest.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, she seemed like a country girl to me, all shy and blushing. And her buddy looked like someone who belongs in Nirvana.”
I frowned in confusion. “A what?”
“A gay bar around the corner,” Carter explained, looking around. “Do you have any cameras here?”
“Broken.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I said, looking at Carter. “No CCTV either, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah, not in this part of town.”
So, Bob, the bouncer, disappeared the day after the murder. A coincidence? Not likely, so we decided to visit him and ask him a question or two. Bob wasn’t at home, but the neighbor said his car was still there, which meant he might still be in town. I found the perfect place to park across from his building, where a line of trees hid us from prying eyes. To no surprise, Bob had a record. His accomplishments spanned from aggravated assault and fraud to hate crime and arson—my favorite.
“So what did you do to end up in the LD?” I asked Carter, who was staring at his phone. “And was it something kinky?”
Silence.
So, we were back to ignoring each other. Just great.
“Are you reading a book?” I said, popping my gum. “The eyeglasses look good on you, by the way. You look like Clark Kent, porn edition.”
More silence.
“Look, you don’t have to talk to me,” I said matter-of-factly. “But this is what you call a stakeout. It means we’re going to be here for a long time. So tell me. What did you do to end up in the LD?”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “What do you think happened, brainiac? I snapped.”
“Did you kill someone?”
“Almost.”
“Why?”
He looked out the window. “He killed someone I loved.”
It was a bomb he dropped on me, which I didn’t expect. I knew I was playing with fire, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking.
“Your partner?” I guessed, stretching my legs.
Carter made a painful grimace, and I immediately regretted bringing up the subject.
“Yeah. He… He was my best friend. My only friend.”
His willingness to answer my question surprised me, but I could see on that he got lost in thought.
“He said he would be my best man when Vic and I get married one day,” Carter muttered, more to himself. “So stupid.”
Then his phone rang, and the moment was lost. The old Carter was back, and his walls were up again. And I started to hate those walls because I liked the other Carter—the one who talked to me.
“I’m at work, Vic,” he said into the phone. “Can I call you back later?”
Silence.
“I don’t think so. I’m working this weekend.”
Judging by his expression, she wasn’t happy with the news.
“Yeah, well, it’s the job,” he murmured, glancing at me while I pretended not to listen to him. “Sunday afternoon might be doable.”
I tossed a piece of gum into my mouth, scanning the area around Bob’s building.
“So, how is this thing with Vic going?” I asked Carter after he hung up. “A cop and a fashion designer? A strange match, if you ask me.”
“No one is asking you. And how do you know she’s a designer?”
“I googled her.”
“Why?”
I shrugged. “I was curious. If the three of us start to hang out together, I should know more about her, don’t you think?”
“Don’t worry, we will never hang out together.”
“Afraid of competition?” I teased him.
Carter laughed, looking at me incredulously. “Are you serious? Me?”
“No,” I replied with a grin. “Her.”
Goddamn me and my big mouth.
He frowned in confusion when his phone rang.
Saved by the bell.
“John?” he said, putting the call on speaker. “What do you have for us?”
“I sent you the forensic report, and it confirms my initial assumptions. The cuts and lacerations on the victim’s body were applied with a sharp object. My guess is a Bowie knife. Blunt force trauma to the head contributed to her death, but she died of asphyxiation. And there are traces of alcohol in her system.”
“No drugs?”
“No. Also, the perp left no evidence. No fingerprints, no hair, no DNA. He's either a professional killer or a ghost.”
“Thank you, John,” Carter said. “Keep us in the loop.”
“Will do.”
“Okay, so this wasn’t as random as we thought?” I said after Carter hung up. “Someone planned this. Someone meticulous and smart, yet the way she was treated… all that anger… It doesn’t make any sense.”
Carter nodded. “No, it doesn’t. The cuts on the victim’s body were pure rage, and you don’t plan pure rage.”
“So, what do we do next?”
“We check out Bob and hope that John Smith gives us something to work with.”
His reply made me smile. “See, partner? We can get along just fine. Like Bonnie and Clyde.”
“They were criminals.”
“Tango and Cash, then.”
“You are seriously disturbed, Thorsen. Do you know that?”
“My old chief would probably agree, but he’s friends with the mayor, so not the best judge of character.”
A few moments of silence ensued before Carter spoke.
“Boggs is corrupt. Everyone knows that.”
I looked at him in disbelief.
“Oh, no!” I gasped, clutching my hand to my chest theatrically. “Did you just take my side, Carter?”
He rolled his eyes but remained silent.
“So you care about me, after all? Aww… that’s so sweet.”
“Drop dead.”
I laughed. “Not now when we’re besties. You know what? I’m going to buy us hot dogs to celebrate. My treat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I insist. Mustard or ketchup?”
“Mustard.”
“My kind of guy. Anything else?”
“Silence when you get back.”
“It’s a date.”
My hand was on the door handle when he spoke. “Thorsen.”
“What?”
He glanced at me before fixing his gaze on the street in front of him.
“Be careful.”
The joke was on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t say it. Why? Because his strained expression told me his words had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the past that still haunted him. That was why I merely nodded and left the car.
Carter
The photos that John Smith had sent were grisly, and they told me that Sophie Malik suffered before her death. The man who killed her inflicted countless wounds on her body, but it wasn’t a crime of passion. It seemed pre-planned, but also… not. But how could it be both?
I looked up and scanned the neighborhood before lowering my gaze to my phone, only to notice a colorful hair tie on the driver’s seat. I picked it up, shaking my head in disbelief. My partner’s fashion style was truly atrocious. He replaced the flip-flops with sneakers, but he still dressed as if he were on his way to the Maldives.
When the door opened, I shoved the hair tie into my pocket because I would rather die than let him see it in my hand.
“Miss me?” Thorsen said, handing me the hot dog.
“Like the plague.”
“I also bought us sweets in case you become grumpy,” he said, before answering his phone. “What’s up, Bazooka? Don’t tell me you’re calling just to hear my voice.”
I kept eating, trying not to listen to his conversation.
“Je vais bien. You know… new city, new friends. But everyone’s nice.”
He glanced at me, but I pretended not to notice it.
“Yeah, you might say that. He’s alright.”
Laughter. What the hell was he laughing about?
“Tall, dark, and brooding, yeah.”
Brief silence.
“To a T. So what?”
Long silence.
“Yeah, but… No, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not stupid.”
He grinned and looked at me.
“Besides, I like Shelly more.”
At the mention of Shelly’s name, I tensed up as Thorsen said goodbye to his friend and turned on the radio.
“What was that about?”
He looked at me in confusion. “What?”
“You mentioned Shelly.”
“Yeah, so?”
Something in his eyes told me he knew exactly what I meant.
“Look,” I said, trying to curb my homicidal tendencies. “Shelly is a good girl. Way too good for you. She just got rid of one asshole, and she doesn’t need another one. No offense.”
“None taken. What about you?”
“What about me?”
He laughed, reaching for the hair tie wrapped around his wrist and tying his hair with it. “Oh, come on, Carter. She likes you. I’m sure you noticed it, being a cop and all.”
“You’re wrong,” I said, watching him tuck a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “We’re like brother and sister. Besides, I have a girlfriend, remember?”
He rolled his eyes. “How could I forget?”
“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, Thorsen, don’t. I mean it. Shelly is off-limits. Don’t make me say it twice.”
He looked at me incredulously. “Or what?”
“Or you will get to know the real me, and you won’t like it.”
“I already know you, and I don’t like you, Carter.”
I rubbed my forehead in frustration. “Is there a way of shutting you up?”
“Well, now that you mention it, you can always suck my… Bob!”
I blinked. “Pardon?”
“Bob is here,” Thorsen murmured, pointing his chin at the building across the street. “Six o’clock.”
“That bald guy standing next to him,” I said, reaching for my gun. “I know him. He’s wanted for murder. Shit, they’re splitting up.”
“I’ll take Bob,” Thorsen said, opening the car door.
“I’ll take Baldie.”
I left the car and ran down the street, trying to remain hidden behind a row of trees. When Baldie turned left into a narrow alley, I followed him. A bottle crashing to the ground made me flinch as I raised my gun higher, slowing down. When I reached the end of the alley, I spotted a door in the building to my left. I headed toward it when something hit my head and everything turned upside down.
“Oh, shit,” I mumbled, and it was the last thing I could remember before falling to the ground.