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The Case of the Murdered Man

By: MendonFishers



I was sitting in my Bark-a-Lounger in the dark. I was sipping on a bottle of cheap whisky when I heard my door knob turn. I picked up my service revolver off the end table and waited. All too soon a shot rang out and the door around my lock splintered. 

I went into action.

My name is Percy Holmes, Detective Perk" to my friends. I'm a homicide detective with the rank of sergeant. I work the Metro section, that's were all the action is.

Some of the punk kids in the neighborhood actually were trying to break in my apartment. I guess they figured a home invasion was in order that night. Like all punks they were stupid. 

One of them pulled his pistol and had shot through my front door. Now pulling a gun on a cop really pisses the cop off. Shooting a hole in his front door, gets you shot back at with his .357 Magnum when you kick open his door. Remember cops don't kill doors, they kill people.

Three of the four punks died that night. The fourth will spend the rest of his life in a wheel chair.

No one will ever break into my apartment again. The word will spread that I wasn't anyone to be fucked with.

Currently I am divorced from my three wives, with no current 4th prospect in the foreseeable future. I live in a small two bedroom apartment near police headquarters. It's not in a very nice neighborhood. But it is close to work and I like it that way.

Such is the life of a cop.

++++++++++++++++

It was a slow night there weren't any calls for me tonight, I was alone and I wasn't drunk yet. I was off duty and planning on drinking a rather large bottle of cheap booze. With my alimony and child support payments I couldn't afford to go out to a bar. The cheap bottle was my entertainment for the night, as well as my companion. 

It helped me forget how badly I screwed up my life. My children were taken by my first ex wife and I've had no contact with them in years. In my career as a homicide detective I had three partners. They were all killed in the line of duty while working with me. Their faces haunt my dreams at night. I remember them, their families and their pointless deaths. That was why I drink nightly. It's the only way I can make all the faces disappear for a while.

I was just sitting down in my favorite (and only) chair with my first drink when the phone rang. It was the dispatcher.

I had a case. I looked lovingly at the glass, but put it on a shelf in the frig. I'd get back to it later.

So I headed off looking forward to a long night.

At the crime scene, I walked up to the patrol officers and started asking the usual questions, "Who discovered the body? What appears to have happened here? Any witnesses?" You know just like on TV. Hell I figured that if the questions worked on "Law and Order", they might work for me too. 

I found that one of the neighbors had heard a gunshot and called 911. The first patrol unit on the scene discovered our victim dead on the ground behind the building. He was shot in the head and appeared to have either fallen or been thrown off the roof. 

The coroner's guys had arrived, so I decided to talk to them. In case you're interested, anybody falling from a great height is not a pretty sight. Add to that the fact that his head was destroyed by the gun shot, and you really don't want to look under the sheet the coroner's crew had put over the body. 

I was one of the lucky ones; it was my job to look. 

As I walked over to the rapidly turning red, white sheet, the patrol guys started moving away to places where they couldn't see what was under the sheet when I lifted it. 

I just looked around and suddenly it was just me and the coroner's guy, Smithy. He was another old veteran like me. "Hi Sherlock, looks like we got us a messy one tonight," He smiled as he addressed me.

He knew I hated being called "Sherlock". I didn't smoke a pipe. But he just couldn't resist breaking my balls.

"Hi, Asshole," was my answer, "What have we got."

"Looks like a shotgun. His head is half gone. He was dead before he hit the ground."

I pulled the sheet off. Boy was I glad I didn't eat that night. He was really messed up. It looked as if the shotgun blast got him right in the face. 

It was a real mess. He must have landed on the back of his head when he hit. His head was split open like a ripe watermelon. 

I heard one of the patrol officers lose his dinner behind me. I guess he fell victim to curiosity. He just had to look. He'll wake up in the middle of the night for the next 10-20 years seeing that mangled body in his dreams. We all do, its part of the job. I use booze to help me sleep through the night. But then I've seen a lot more victims of man's cruelty to man over the years, the patrol officer was just starting.

A bright flash went off in my eyes, a forensic guy was here. He was starting the process of making the 8 x 10's that would make some jury members very sick.

"After you're done here, get on the roof and see what's up there. We think that's where he came from," I suggested, happy to look away from the body.

I organized the patrol units to start canvassing the building and the neighborhood. I didn't expect much. This wasn't the type of neighborhood that helped the police. I started toward the elevator. I thought I'd get on the roof and figure out where this guy's trip to the ground began.

As I got on the elevator, I noticed the sign that said, "Elevator Inspection Records are located in the Basement Superintendant's Office." I looked around the elevator and thought, "I'll bet they are forgeries."

By the time I got to the top floor, I vowed to take the stairs down. Hell it was only 14 floors!

I started walking toward what I thought was the jump point. I was a gravel covered flat roof. I could see signs of a single set of foot prints heading from the door, I was standing in to what I suspected was the spot he fell from.

About this time the CSI guy got there. "What's ya got for me, Sherlock?"

Another asshole making fun of my name, "I thought. I pointed out the footprints. He started taking pictures and putting little number things by each foot print. He looked like he was having fun as I followed him across the roof. 

When we got to the "jump point", I found all the typical suicide stuff piled up neatly. There were his shoes, coat, hat, wallet and keys. I never figured out why jumpers left all this stuff behind. But then I could never figure out why they jumped. There were a lot easier forms of suicide.

The CSI interrupted my thought train, "Where's the shotgun?"

I looked around the roof, no shotgun.

"Shit it's gonna be a long night, "I thought.

+++++++

After gathering a crew consisting of two patrol men and me, we began to canvass the building asking the usual. "What did you see, what did you hear, do you know the victim?"

Since I had seniority and rank, the patrol men started on the first and second floor and worked their way up, alternating floors. I started on the top floor going down.

Luck was with me that night because the fourth door I knocked on actually opened. A woman answered. She was wearing a terrycloth bathrobe that looked 4 sizes too big for her. Her hair was up in a towel. 

"Sorry to bother you Ms, I'm Detective Holmes." I held out my badge, just like you see on TV. "I'm investigating a possible murder. Can I ask you a few questions?" I ignored the smirk on her face when she heard my name.

She grabbed the front of her robe and closed it tight all the way up to her neck. She glanced up and down the hallway, looking rather nervous.

"Was she nervous talking to a police detective? Was she nervous standing in the hallway in just her bathrobe? Was she nervous because she didn't want to tell me something?" I wondered.

I got her to invite me in her apartment. I can be such nice guy I could deceive anyone. 

Her living room was a mess. She had the usual sofa and two chairs but the chairs were stacked with papers, clothing and plastic bags. The sofa was the only place to sit and that's where we sat; me on one end and her on the other. She turned her body to me and adjusted her robe so that she could sit half cross legged on the sofa. 

Now being a detective, I had picked up a few things on my way to the couch. There were junk and boxes laying everywhere and she had framed pictures that leaned against the walls at various points in the room. "Easy, she was in the process of moving in", I thought, "Damn I'm good."

Well she was pretty. I put my best smile on and started to make her feel comfortable.

"I see you are just moving in. I hate moving myself," the brilliant conversationalist I was said.

I got a small smile and she replied, "I had to move. The neighborhood was getting bad, I called the police but nothing was don........er. They said they'd give the area extra attention."

"The standard Desk Sergeant response," I thought.

"After they broke into my neighbor's apartment and raped her, I decided to move," She replied.

I asked her where she used to live. When she told me the address, I thought, "Smart move."

We made some small talk when I dropped a bomb, "What did you do when you heard the gun shot?"

She just sat there.

"Why didn't you call 911?"

Her reply, "My phone will not be connected until next week and I haven't found the box with my cell phone charger yet. The battery in my cell is dead."

I asked to look at her phone. It was the same make as mine. I offered the spare charger, I kept in my car to her and she accepted.

"Shit! Now I have to use the elevator again. Why can't I learn to keep my mouth shut," I thought.

On the way back to her apartment, one of the patrol officers stopped me, "We found the 911 caller on the 8 floor."

I dropped the charger off at her apartment and said I'd be back after I interviewed the occupant in another apartment. 

Little did I know I wouldn't make it back that night.

++++++++

As Jenny looked at the cell phone charger the detective had left. Could she trust him? Or should she just keep running. 

She knew that Master was out there somewhere looking for her. If Master found her she would be killed in some horrible fashion. 

She made her decision.

++++++++++

In apartment 804, I meet Mrs. Edwards, a 70 year old widow who knew everybody's business on her floor, also on the floors above and below her. I spent the next two hours listening to her life history. How after 50 years of marriage, "Fred" had up and died on her.

"Lucky Bastard, "I thought listening to her voice. Her voice sounded like a fingernail being dragged across a blackboard. "Forty years of that voice and I'd probably put my service revolver in my mouth,"

After four hours, I learned that there was a very loud gun shot from the apartment right next door (806), and the occupants fought all the time. It always ends with her husband threatening to shoot her.

A patrol officer and I ran next door and broke open the door. We were greeted by two naked 60 year olds having sex. They were at least 100 pounds overweight each.

Believe me, it was not a sight I want to see again! All that jiggling fat! I was tempted to go back out side and look at the jumper, just to settle my stomach.

It took about 30 minutes before we could get the misses to stop screaming. She was hysterical. 

It might have taken longer to calm her down, but the two patrol officers were in uniform, where I was in a cheap suit and looked very seedy. But that's OK, because they don't pay us detectives that much.

When they finally quieted down, I started questioning them, "What are your names?"

"Opus, sir"

"Your full names" interrupted a patrol officer who was taking notes.

"Fred, Mary" They replied

"Do you have a shotgun?" I inquired.

"Yes sir."

"Did you have an argument tonight?"

"Yes sir."

"Did either of you try to shot the other?"

"Yes sir."

"Ok," I thought, "I've got to get them talking, these two word answers suck!""

I changed my style of questioning, "Is there anything you'd like to tell me about your argument?"

"No sir."

"Grrrr" I thought, "These people are going to be tough."

"What do you two think of Mrs. Edwards?" I said hoping to get a longer that two word response.

"She's a busy body, always noising into other people's business, "was the answer I received.

"Ten whole words!" I was pleased. Maybe I was on a roll.

"Mrs. Edwards said that she heard you two arguing, and then a gunshot," I asked.

"That's right, sir,"

"Damn back to two word answers or maybe three," I brilliantly concluded. At this rate, they will be in their 70's by time I done questioning them.

"OK new style of questioning," I concluded.

"Since you two don't want to discuss this, get out of bed and let's go to the station," I yelled.

"Naked????" they both exclaimed.

"Yes," was my reply. Well that got them talking.

Now, I couldn't shut them up. They talked over each other trying to get the story out. It actually took me almost two hours longer to get them to take turns talking.

It was going to be a long night.

My trusty patrol officer took me aside and informed me that the jumper was named Ron Opus, the same last name as these two.

Walking back to my now very cooperative couple, I dropped a bomb, "Do you know a Ron Opus and when was the last time you saw him?"

(I know it's a leading question, but I'm a cop and it's allowed. And besides I needed a drink. It was four am and I was tired.)

That started them talking again. It seems Ron was their son. They had seen him about two weeks ago when they informed him that they were giving him no more money for his drug habit and changing their wills.

They had a terrible fight and called the police to have Ron removed from the apartment.

They said that was the last time they saw or talked to him.

I asked them if I could see the shotgun. When they gave me permission, I gave it to my CSI for inspection. It had been recently fired.

They both claimed that they never had bought shells for it.

We searched the apartment, with their permission, and found no other guns or ammunition for the shot gun.

I let them get dressed, and we went downtown to continue their questioning.

I let them think that I only wanted to talk to them about the "Discharge of a firearm in City limits." I did not inform them of their son's death. I was saving that piece of information for later.

It was now 6:00 am and I hadn't slept all night. 

I got them in a couple of interrogation rooms to separate them, so I could check out their stories. Their stories meshed, but then they could have practiced the stories. I couldn't shake them.

Mary explained, "When we fight, Fred sometimes grabs the shotgun and threatens to kill me."

"I have never loaded the gun. I could never hurt Mary, so I symbolically shoot her with the unloaded gun," Fred added.

"Tonight the gun went off, and blew out the window behind our bed," said Mary.

"We don't know how it happened," they exclaimed.

I booked them on the gun charge. They were released on their own recognizance. I just couldn't see locking up two little (OK they weren't so little) old people for murder, yet.

I just wanted to go home and get some sleep.

++++++++++

My phone woke me up at 2:00 pm. I was given another homicide. This one had me going to the hospital to see the victim. An elderly woman had been brought in by ambulance. She had been badly beaten and died after a week.

I stopped at a Starbucks and was given a free coffee. If I could inject it with a needle, I would. Caffeine was the only thing besides booze that kept me alive. The manager knew me; I helped find the mugger who had killed her husband a few years ago. My money wasn't any good in her store.

The coffee woke me up enough to function at the hospital.

I talked to the doctor who admitted the victim. I talked to the nurses that happened to be on duty the night she arrived. A couple of them were off shift, but I got enough from the ones working.

I went up to the floor they had put her and talked to the nursing staff. She had never regained conscientious. So they could add nothing to my inquiries. I would wait for the "official" cause of death, but I'll bet it will be related to the beating.

I got her address from the hospital staff. It was in a part of the city that had slid down in value. She lived in an apartment building where most tenants had their rent subsidized by the government. There was something familiar about the address. But with my profession, I spent a lot of time in that neighborhood.

As I was riding the rickety old elevator up to Betty's (the victim's) apartment, I had a funny feeling that my victim was the neighbor of the little cutie from last night's case. Now I had a legitimate reason to visit her. 

Picking up my charger was a really weak reason.

I got to the crime scene and it was sealed with yellow tape. I called the CSI dispatcher and updated her. She promised to have a heavy duty team at my location in about an hour as they were just finishing up at another location. 

"The murder rate is picking up," I thought.

I started knocking on doors.

Betty was a popular tenant. Everybody on the floor knew her and liked her. They were all sorry she didn't make it.

The apartment next to hers was vacant. When I inquired of another tenant, she explained that the girl who lived there moved out the very next day. "She was scared to death" was the reason I got for the woman vacating the apartment. The prior tenant was described to me. She sounded like my 

"bathrobe" girl.

Now I knew I had a reason to visit her again.

I got the super to let me into her vacant apartment. It was trashed! Somehow I couldn't believe my girl had done it.

My CSI team arrived and we went next door to Betty's apartment. When they broke the tape and the super opened the door, we found that the apartment had also been trashed. My CSI guys were pissed because now their job was a lot tougher. 

When I explained to them about the apartment next door, they were even more pissed. They figured it would take them all night to process both apartments unless they could get help from another team.

It was 11:00 pm when I left. The other team still had not arrived. I figured I wouldn't be invited to their office party next Christmas. 

It was too late to visit my cell phone charger, so I went back to my apartment and went to bed. I'd visit her tomorrow.

++++++++

I slept like a rock. It was almost 3:00 pm when I woke up. I hit my bathroom, and did the three S's. I felt almost human. Actually, I felt more human than I ever felt, and then I remembered, I'd had nothing to drink for two days. I was sober for the first time in months. 

I'd need to rectify that tonight. I was thirsty. And I wanted to prevent the nightmares. 

I pulled up in front of the jumper's choice, now I only had to ride that damn elevator for 14 floors. I was beginning to wonder if she was worth the ride up. 

"Hell yes, she was cute," reinforcing my courage.

I got up to her floor and walked to her apartment. I was kind of wondering if I'd remember her name from last night. 

The door was open. The apartment was vacant. "There goes my charger," I mused. While wondering why she ran. 

Something wasn't right here, but I didn't have time to think about it. I was just too busy.

I took the stairs back down to 802; I wanted to continue my discussion with Fred and Mary Opus.

+++++++++

After spending the next hour talking to the Opuses, I was really frustrated. Their one and two word answers upset me.

I finished my discussion with them and took the stairs back down. I wanted to visit the crime scene again, I felt something was wrong but couldn't put my finger on it. Hey, I was a detective and we all develop a "Spidie" sense.


The Case of the Murdered Man



I walked around the site were the jumper had landed looking for anything I might have missed last night. 

After being bent over for about fifteen minutes, I stood up and stretched. 

That's when I saw it. A safety net was installed on that side of the building. Some construction workers had left the net behind when they finished their job. The purpose of the net was to catch a worker if they fell off the roof.

It should have caught the Opus's son when he jumped. But it didn't. The shot gun blast must have exerted enough force to cause him to miss the net.

I called the DA's office and talked to an ADA. After considerable debate, he sent a patrol car to my location.

With the patrol offices in tow, I went back up to the Opus apartment. I arrested both of them, Fred for murder and his wife as an accessory. They were put in the back of the patrol car and driven away. The patrol officers were told to ask the booking office to take it easy on them. They were old and very confused.

I made an anonymous call to the Public Defender's Office and requested assistance for the Opuses.

I felt really shitty about arresting them, but felt a little better after my phone call. They seemed to be nice people, but they were now caught up in the system. And the system was set up to win unless Fred and Mary had very good representation. I honestly thought that they would probably die in prison.

In the back of my mind I wondered, "How did that shotgun get loaded? Fred and Mary had no ammunition anywhere in the apartment."

I went back to the station house.

Later that evening I started and finished the quart of cheap whisky I bought earlier in the week. I slept in my chair all night. 

I didn't dream that night.

+++++

"How does he keep finding me? I'm dead, I'm dead, and he's going to kill me." She thought.

Jenny was huddled in an alley trying to stay warm and dry. It was a typical fall night on this typical fall evening. She sat on her haunches with her arms wrapped around her legs rocking back and forth. "Nowhere left to go, nowhere to get away." 

She was desperate. Within the course of a week and a half, she had been forced to flee again and again, this time without anything but a small suit case. 

He kept getting closer. She was sure that when he found her, he'd kill her slowly; she was as good as dead. That was his way. He liked to hurt people. She knew because she had watched him slowly kill people. Innocent people that he grabbed off the street for no apparent reason, but just to kill, and kill slowly, the way he liked. 

He'd done it her; grabbed her off the street and kept her. He'd keep threatening fuck her, always holding a knife to her throat. But for some reason he never followed up on his threats.

He just laughed and she cried in terror.

She remembered how it began for her. She was at the mall with her friends when she had to leave. As she was walking to her car, someone grabbed her from behind and stuffed a cloth over her nose and mouth. She remembered thinking, "It smells funny," 

She remembered waking up, completely nude in a dark room, cold, hungry, and in pain. She tried to call out, but felt a rubber ball stuffed in her mouth and secured with what felt like straps around her head.

She knew that it was just a matter of time before someone came into that dark room and killed her. She prayed to God that she would die quickly, but felt otherwise. She felt that she was in for a very long, slow and painful death.

He laughed while she cried until she passed out.

+++++++++

A rat scurried across the alley, bring her back to the present.

Jenny had to find a place to stay for the night, she had no money. All she had was a beat-up old suitcase with a couple of changes of clothes, some clean underwear and a cell phone charger. She remembered the cop who lent it to her. He seemed ok for an old guy, but he had hard eyes, and smelled like he had been drinking.

So she wandered out of the alley and started up the street.

A self service Laundromat was the only lights she saw on the street. "At least it's a place to keep warm until they throw me out," She thought. She headed in that direction.

Once inside, she spotted the only other occupant, an older man doing laundry with his back to her. She saw that he was just stuffing his clothes in a washer with absolutely no separation as to colors and stuff.

She hoped she could earn a couple of bucks doing his laundry for him. She figured to offer to help him for a couple of bucks. That way she might have enough money to eat at least one meal tomorrow. 

"Excuse me Mister? I'll do your laundry for you if..." She gasped when she saw who she was talking to. "Hey, I've got you cell phone charger. I'm real sorry about taking off I was going to bring it to the station, really."

The detective took note of the state of her clothing, her matted hair; saw the hyper-vigilant look in her eyes

He looked right into her eyes, and held her gaze for several seconds before he spoke, "Ya alright?" 

She shifted from one foot to the other trying to keep it in. But his gaze went right into her soul. She felt he knew she was running, and was only waiting for her to admit it.

She couldn't help it; she felt her eyes tear up. Soon she was crying her heart out. He put his arms around her and just held her until she gained control of herself. 

She felt safe in his arms for the first time in years.

She wiped her eyes and backed away. "I'm sorry I..., I don't remember your name?"

"I'm Percy Holmes, Homicide detective. Sometimes people call me 'Sherlock" but I prefer Perk.

"I'll take you up on your offer to help with my laundry, because I'm lousy at doing it. Then you have to come with me round the corner to a diner. While we're eating, you can tell me what you want me to know," he said.

Soon they were sitting in a booth, he was drinking a cup of coffee, and she was trying to eat everything on the menu. It had been a few days since she'd eaten.

+++++++

Percy looked at the girl. She was still pretty but very dirty from living on the streets. 

As they walked back to the Laundromat to get his clothes, he asked, "Where are you spending the night?" 

She just shrugged her shoulders and said, "Nowhere special."

"I have a spare room in my apartment with a lock on the door; do you want to stay at my place? He offered

" Shit, why'd I say that? She'll probably rob me blind," He pondered.

"And besides someone has to help me iron and fold this mess", he offered as a final reason.

I had to keep my head about me around this girl. Just because she doesn't look like an addict doesn't mean she isn't. What the hell was I thinking!

I watched her bite her lip and could see the wheels turning in her head. She looked like she was going to say no and bolt.

Somehow she knew she'd be ok staying with him, and found herself agreeing.

I pointed to the corner where she had hidden her suitcase and said, "Grab your stuff and we'll put it in my car."

She started walking toward her stuff then froze and looked back me with a puzzled look on her face. I laughed; she was so easy to read. "You keep forgetting I'm a detective don't you? Yes, Jenny, I could tell that was your stuff and I know that you're homeless and eventually you will tell me why. 

I'll wait until you're ready to tell me."

"How did he know that was mine?" She thought. Then she remembered, "He's a cop and they watch everything," 

She felt a little safer around him.

"My address is number 204 Baker Street, #10 is a vacant lot," He offered jokingly.

She giggled like a young girl. 

"Oh you get the joke, so few people do," he replied.

"I devoured Arthur Conan Doyle when I was a girl. Still go nuts over who dun-its."

I hid my surprised expression from her. I never met a girl who actually read those books as opposed to seeing the old black and whites that came on one of the classic movie channels on cable.

"I never liked the movies when I was younger, they never compared to the books very well. But, I have seen the newest with Robert Downey Jr. He does a very nice Detective Holmes. Like you, " she teased.

When they got to his fourth floor apartment, they carried all their stuff upstairs. He put his laundry in what she assumed was his bedroom and walked her down a short hall to another bedroom. It only had a dresser, a night table, and an unmade bed in it. He put her meager suitcase on the bed for her to unpack while he went to a hall closet for extra bedding.

When he got back with the bedding, she had already unpacked all her worldly goods. The two of them made up her bed laughing and talking about almost everything. 

She was starting to like him.

He walked her to his bathroom and showed her where all the stuff was. The he left her to take the first shower she'd taken in over a week.

She washed everything. It felt great just standing there in the spray of hot water. When she finally finished, she dried herself and looked for something to brush her hair with. Not finding anything, she put her bathrobe on and started looking for Percy. She found him fully clothed on his bed sound asleep. She noticed an empty glass and a whisky bottle on his night table. As she walked over to him, she could smell the booze on his breath.

"He's down for the night," She concluded.

She saw a comb and brush set on his dresser, and started on her hair using his big mirror. The whole time she was there, he never moved. 

She walked over to him and took off his shoes. When she was opening his jacket to loosen his belt, she saw his gun. She got scared and left it all alone. The only other thing she did was to cover him with a spare blanket and turn off his bedside lamp.

She made sure the front door was locked before going to bed. After locking her bedroom door, she felt a lot safer.

She slept in peace and comfort for the first time in a long time.

++++++

Percy awoke with a throbbing headache. As he walked down the hall to the bathroom, he noticed his shoes were gone. 

"Shit, I hope I didn't walk home without them," He thought.

On the way back to his bedroom, he noticed the spare room's door was closed. He tried to open it and found it locked. Then his fuzzy mind cleared enough to remember Jenny and the rest of the evening.

This morning he put on his robe before going to take a shower. "No more running around in his underwear while she was here, "he concluded. 

Before he left for work, he checked the refrigerator, eggs (check), milk (still good? Check). The bread was a little green, ("OK, no toast for Jenny".) He got the coffee maker ready to make coffee for her. He left a note explaining that he'd left for work but would be back at lunch time and there was some food in the refrigerator. 

He left a couple of $20's in case she wanted to leave.

Before he went to bed last night he put her cell phone in his charger. This morning he checked it. It was one of those Trac phones. You didn't need a contract because you could only use pre-paid minutes on it. I dropped it in my pocket thinking I'd add some time to it for her.

At work I spent about an hour discussing my two cases with the Captain. We discussed the injustice happening to Mary and Fred, and tried to brain storm some way of helping them. We both felt sorry for the old couple, but couldn't come up with any viable solution. It all boiled down to Fred shooting Ron in the head while he was trying to commit suicide. We both agreed to put the case on hold and think about it a while. Neither one of us wanted to see Mary or Fred go to prison.

I filled him in on Betty's case. I told him that I thought it was more than a simple home invasion gone wrong. I explained that I felt it was something more. I know it was just a feeling, but the Captain and I go way back and he trusts my feelings.

I got a call from CSI; Betty's belongings from the hospital had been processed and were ready for my examination. I know going through a dead person's personal things seems weird, but it helps me to get a feeling for the victim. After all, my job is to seek retribution for them.

As I looked through her belongings, I tried to ignore the blood stains and the fact that the hospital cut her clothing off when she was admitted. In the box, I found her glasses (broken from the violence of her attack), a pair of simple ear rings, and a wedding band. 

I made a note of the ring, next of kin will need to be notified if there was any. If no living next of kin, was there a husband waiting for her to be buried next to him? 

Yeah, I know it wasn't my job, but maybe I'd get a few points with Saint Peter when my time came. I needed all the help I could get.

Besides her underwear, the only other thing was her housecoat in the box. Not a lot to mark a person's life. I hoped somewhere out there was someone who remembered her with love in their heart beside a broken down old cop.

It was lunch time and I hoped I had a date still waiting at my apartment.

++++++

I walked out of the station house and yelled at the desk sergeant that I was headed home for lunch. He looked at me and smiled, "What address is that again, #10 Baker Street?"

"Everybody's a comedian, "I grimaced and flipped him the bird.

I got in my beat up American car. Beat up because of the work I did and the neighborhood I lived in, not because I bought it that way, but it was 10 years old. In other words it was a piece of junk, a rust bucket. 

But it provided transportation, and any self respecting car thief wouldn't look twice at it.

When I got home, I found Jenny in her robe. It looked as if she had just gotten up from behind the couch. There was one of my large kitchen knives on the coffee table. 

"I wonder what she's so scared of." I thought, "Well I'll get it out of her. I have the time and patience"

My ego will settle for nothing less.

"Get dressed and I'll treat you to lunch", I invited.

A bit of panic flashed across her face then resolve, "OK," was her answer. 

Then she asked, "Do you always carry your gun?"

"Of course, regulations."

I could see her relax as the tension left her body. I filed her actions away for further thought.

As I watched her walk down the hall to my spare bedroom, I realized that her bathrobe and Betty's house coat were almost the same color and pattern. 

My cop mind started processing the coincidence.

Jenny & Betty were about the same height, same weight, same hair color, and both of them had short hair. If it wasn't for their age difference, they could easily be mistaken for each other. The next thing that went through my mind was that both apartments (Betty's and Jenny's) were ransacked. 

I was starting to have a bad feeling about this case. 

Jenny returned to the living room dressed and interrupted my thought processes. We left for the diner.

All too soon my lunch hour was over; I took Jenny back to my apartment where I gave her Trac phone back to her with time on it. I told her I had programmed my cell phone number into her address book.

"You can call me anytime," I added.

"We'll go grocery shopping when I get home tonight and get you a key for the front door." I continued.

She smiled at me.

"Then if we have extra time, we'll do a little shopping for you. I'm not rich, but I can help you out a little bit." I said heading out the door.

I went back to the station, my mind working overtime. It was too early to have a talk with the Captain, but something just didn't pass the smell test with Betty's murder and Jenny's flight. It was not appearing to be a simple home invasion.

When I got to my desk there was a note to stop by CSI. They had something to show me.

When I arrived downstairs, a CSI informed me that they had found a fingerprint on the shotgun shell. It belonged to Ron Opus. They explained that he had loaded the gun that killed him. 

I wondered how I could use this information to help Fred and Mary.

As I was pondering this new bit of information, my cell phone rang. I was assigned another homicide case. It was late and I knew I wouldn't be home on time so I called Jenny's cell.

Her cell phone was answered, but there was no sound from her end.

"Jenny? It's me, Percy." I spoke into the phone.

I heard a sigh, "Hi Detective P." You could almost sense the fear in her over the connection.

"I'm just calling to tell you I'll be a little late, but this appears to be a simple case, so I should be home in a couple of hours." 

I wanted to add, "Will you be alright," But I kept my mouth shut.

"There's no food in the apartment, will we still be going shopping?" I was asked.

"Of course, I always keep my promises, especially to beautiful women," I told her.

You could almost hear her smile. "Percy, you old dog, you've still got it." I thought.

When I arrived at the crime scene, the patrol unit walked me through what they found. It appeared that two gang bangers, from different gangs, shot it out in the street. We had plenty of witness.

An hour later, I had it all documented and was on my way home.

"This should be how all my cases end up. Simple!" I mused.

After arriving at my apartment, I called out, "Jenny I'm home," before I put the key in the lock. I was trying not to scare her.

When I got the door open, she hugged me and said, "I've been so scar.....lonely. I'm glad you're home."

I could feel her shaking in my arms. I held her and just rubbed her back until I felt her relax.

"I'm here to protect you, Jenny. No one will hurt you when you're under my protection." I said as I held her.

"I hope s......" she started to say, but didn't finish. Something really had her spooked.

We had supper at a diner and then bought $200 worth of groceries at the local supermarket. I gave her a funny look when the shopping cart started to overflow, but she explained that she loved to cook and I could use some healthy food. (Hell, I liked take-out!)

We then stopped in the women's department of a local Wal-Mart and got her another couple of hundred dollars worth of clothes and other "woman" stuff. That shopping trip left another r big hole in my pocket.

By time we got everything put away, I was bushed and ready for my evening cocktail. As I open the kitchen cabinet to get a bottle, I felt a hand on my arm.

"Please don't drink. It brings back very bad memories for me, "was her request.

She put a kettle of water on the stove and we had tea. While I'm not the greatest "tea" fan, at least it was a real black tea, not some wimpy "rose hip" or something.

She sent me into the living room while she fixed the beverage. Instead of sitting in my chair, I dropped on the couch. I had plans for Jenny, no not those kinds of plans, but I wanted to get her talking about herself.

After she settled on the couch, she slid over next to me, not as lovers, but as if I was her protector. I started it off asking her what she did today, was she bored, did she need anything. You know the usual; relax 'em questions.

She didn't seem comfortable that I was asking about her and kept switching it over to asking about my day.

"Ok two can play that game, "I thought as I planned my strategy.

I decided that I'd use the old hit them between the eyes tool, "Betty died from her injuries," Was all I said.

Jenny's eyes got moist. I put my arm around her and pulled her onto my shoulder. She buried her face in my chest and softly cried.

When she appeared to be starting to gain control over herself, I asked, "Why were they looking for you?"

I didn't get an answer, just more tears, so I added, "I can't help Betty get peace if you won't help me."

She tried to pull away from me, but I held her tightly. She put both her arms around my neck, and just held me as tightly as she could. She completely broke down.




The Case of the Murdered Man



After a couple of minutes a little voice said, "Please help me, I'm so scared."

"I will, I promise no one will hurt you." Little did I know what was in store for me because of that little promise.

We spent the rest of the night in that position on the couch. We didn't talk, but I just rubbed her back. Sometime during the evening, she fell asleep. 

I wasn't far behind her.

+++++++

The next morning I awoke to the smell of bacon cooking and fresh coffee. I stuck my head in the kitchen and there she was at the stove. She was humming some little tune and smiling from ear to ear.

She spotted me in the doorway, and ran over. I got a great big hug and a little kiss. Her face wrinkled up after the kiss, "Morning Breath! Go brush your teeth while I start the eggs." 

"Yes dear." (I was well trained by my three previous wives.) The saying, "A Man's Home is his Castle," must have been said by a bachelor. When I was married, all I ever did was pay the bills and take out the garbage.

I was far from King.

I had to go to work and write up all the reports from the gang killing yesterday. I promised Jenny that I wouldn't be gone that long. 

She asked me to wait until she finished her shower.

While she was in the shower, I went through her purse. (I know! But I'm a cop remember). She had nothing personal in it, No ID, no Driver's license, nothing to help me learn about her. I guess I'd need to use the police network to check her out. All I had to do was keep my inquiries under the radar. So I wouldn't need to answer a bunch of embarrassing questions at work.

When she finished her shower, she came back into the kitchen in the new housecoat we purchased the other day. She was carrying her old bathrobe and asked if I'd destroy it. 

"DNA, "I thought. "OK I'll drop it in the dumpster on my way down."

I dropped it off alright, at forensics and explained what I wanted. They called me about an hour later, "Nothing, not enough DNA"was their answer. "Try her hair brush, or cut off a piece of her body, Sherlock."

They were having another laugh at my expense. "I told them, if they kept it up, I wouldn't invite them to my next wedding, " 

"What the hell was I thinking about, Wedding?" I thought. I was a three time loser, why would I try for four? 

I spent the rest of the morning remembering my past wives. First, I had all the bad memories, the constant bickering, the nights on the couch, and finally the lawyers. 

Then the good memories started.

My first wife (Katie) lasted the longest. We had two kids together, a boy and a girl. My wife was never comfortable with me being a cop. She wanted a 9-5 type of a job for me, but I liked what did. I felt I was helping society.

One night I was shot by a bad guy. It wasn't a bad wound, but I did spend a couple of weeks in the hospital. My buddy's from the force picked me up from the hospital and took me home. The house was dark and empty. She had moved out with the kids. On the kitchen table were the divorce papers and a letter. 

She said that she still loved me, but could not live with the constant fear I'd not return from work someday. Only this time I'd be dead. She explained that she'd cleaned out the savings account so she could provide for the kids until she got another job. She was moving to the west coast.

She wanted no alimony, no child support, and I could keep the house, my retirement and the 401k. She also asked that I never try to contact her or the kids. She said she would keep her attorney informed of her location and asked me to do the same in case there was an emergency.

So ended my first marriage. 

I sold the house and sent her lawyer half the profit with a note that it was to put the kids through college when the time came. I sent birthday cards and presents for the kids to her attorney along with Christmas stuff. 

I never got a "thank you" or any other kind of note. Her lawyer assured me that the stuff I sent was forwarded to them. To prove it, she sent me a bill for her services.

Brandy was my second wife. The only thing we had together was great sex. God could that woman screw! But we never had anything going for us.

After we had been married for about a year, a bunch of us guys were sitting around the squad room, just bull shitting, when one of the guys started a round robin question, "What would you do if you found your wife in bed with another man?"

There were the usual, "Kill the bitch, Kill him, leave her destitute," Normal guy stuff.

As I sat there, I realized I didn't care what she did. I just didn't love her. 

We divorced about six months later. She took off with a guy she worked with. I guess she had a spare waiting in the wings.

Judith was my third wife. She was a very successful local attorney. I met her while working on a case. We had a good roll for about five years, when she was offered a partnership in a big Boston Law Firm. We had a drag down fight about her accepting and me wanting to stay here on the force. 

She accepted the position and bid me farewell. I guess we parted friends because I still think about her when I can't drop right off to sleep.

Judith did do me one favor, somehow she found out that my first wife's attorney was just throwing my cards and presents away and had never sent Katie her half of the money gained from the sale of our house. 

Katie's attorney had no idea where Katie and the Kids were.

Judith supplied me with all the necessary documentation. 

I sued.

I won $500,000 in damages. The lawyer was disbarred. 

It felt good to have revenge, but I was still no closer to finding my kids. Actually I had no hope of ever finding them again.

I moved out of Judith's fancy upscale condo and into the inner city apartment I live in now.

She sold the condo, and kept the money. It was her condo before we married.

Now I wanted a drink! But I remembered what Jenny has asked. 

+++++++

Jenny kept busy in the apartment. Although it was small, Perk never really cleaned it that well, so she kept busy sweeping and dusting. 

"It felt good to have a home again", thought Jenny.

I planned a fancy dinner for Perk", he was my man (why did I just call him that?) and I was going to take good care of him. I made a salad, baked bread, made dessert, and put a roast in the oven surrounded by potatoes and carrots and stuff. With all the cooking odors, the apartment smelled great, if I must say so.

Since Perk always wore a suit (although wrinkled), I wanted to dress up for him. I put on the dress I bought at Wal-Mart and my only nice shoes. I fixed my hair. I did my nails. I used a little makeup. I even found a bottle of his cologne and put a little on all my girlie spots.

As I was looking myself over in his mirror, I realized I didn't have any fancy lingerie to put on. All I had were cotton panties that looked as if a great grandmother had picked them out, and a bra that had seen better days a couple of years ago.

I remembered that as long as I was held captive, I was not allowed to wear clothes. I was kept completely nude all the time. The memories of the screams, the bloody floor, and being forced to have sex in all that filth kept me from any type of sexual feeling. 

I hoped Perk would understand, he seemed like a very caring man.

I wanted to tell him my whole story, but I didn't know how he'd react. It was not a pretty story.

I heard him at the door. He was calling, "I'm home!" before opening the door. He didn't want to scare me. He was very thoughtfull.

I met him at the door and gave him a hug. It felt so good to have him there. Before he could walk in, I asked, "Do you have any wine? I couldn't find any in the kitchen?"

He shook his head "No".

I sent him off to buy some red. As soon as he left, I set the table, put a candle, which I found in a drawer, in an old ashtray, and started serving up diner. I even found two wine glasses in the back of a cabinet.

When he got back about 30 minutes later, I was ready.

I took the wine from him and sent him off to the bathroom to clean up. While he was cleaning up, I put all the food on the table and poured the wine. 

I was waiting for him in the living room when he immerged. I hugged him and said, "Welcome home. I fixed a special dinner for you."

When he saw everything I had done, I swear there was a small tear in his eye. It took him a couple of tries before his voice cleared and he could say, "Thank you."

We sat down and ate. He acted as if this was the first time he had eaten in a month. With every mouthful he took, he mumbled, "This is great!"

After we finished eating, he helped me do the dishes and clean up the kitchen. I sent him into the living room while I started the water for some tea.

I came in the living room with a TV tray containing the tea and some dessert. I took one look at him and realized he had been crying. 

"So much for the big bad cop he pretended to be," I thought. 

I just wanted to take him in my arms and hug him to death. He was my protector and he was hurting.

"No one fixed me a nice meal like that in 15 years. That's how long my first wife has been gone," He said with a very shaky voice.

We finished our tea and Jenny put her head in his lap. Perk stroked her hair.

+++++++

I sat there with Jenny's head in my lap. She had fixed a great meal. It was exactly like the dinners my Katie had fixed before she ran away with my children. I was stroking her hair and feeling very contented, I felt I could open up to her and let her into my life.

"Would you like to hear my story?" I asked.

I could feel her nod her head "yes" on my leg. So I started my tale.

I told her about growing up in a rural area, always wanting to go into law enforcement. I attended a community college, majoring in Criminal Justice. After I graduated, I applied to this police force and was accepted. I was five years from having my twenty in. Once I had my time in I could retire at half pay. 

I was planning on leaving and starting a hunting/fishing lodge somewhere in New England. I wanted to live out my final years among normal people not the jerks I arrested regularly. 

I told her I had a little money saved to buy one.

What I didn't tell her was how much I had in the bank. With conservative investing, I managed to increase my $500,000 to almost $2,000,000. Not bad for an uneducated cop.

I then told her about all three of my failed marriages. 

"The only regret I have is not being a part of my children's lives. They will grow old and die, never having known their real father. I imagine my ex has remarried and her husband is in my kid's life in my place."

I had stopped talking when I noticed that Jenny was softly crying and my eyes were moist. 

We turned the lights off and went to our separate rooms.

In the middle of the night, I heard my bedroom door open; Jenny lifted the covers ad slid in next to me.

"I just want to hold you and make your pain go away," she whispered.

I slept in her arms the rest of the night. No, there was no sex. I was starting to think of Jenny as a daughter, not as a friend with benefits.

+++++++

A couple of weeks went by, when the coroner's Inquest was into the death of Roy Opus was held.

The inquest was to determine if any charges should be brought concerning the Death of one Roy Opus. I was there because I was the arresting officer and required to testify. The forensics department testified, the patrol officers on the scene testified, Fred and Mary testified. 

For some reason they kept me to the end.

I spent all afternoon on the stand. They asked me all sorts of questions. Usually I could figure out where these hearings were headed. But this one had me buffaloed. 

The coroner read his findings: 

"Since Mr. Roy Opus loaded the shotgun, it was assumed that he wanted to assure the completion of his death. Therefore this hearing concludes Mr. Roy Opus committed suicide and Mr. and Mrs. Opus are to be released because no crime had been committed. " 

As he announced his findings, he was looking directly at me. 

I was smiling.

When he adjourned, I offered Fred and Mary a ride home. On the way I stopped and bought them dinner and explained what had gone on at the hearing. Sadly Mary asked me about her son Roy. I said his body would be released to them by the end of the week. It would be up to them to arrange for his burial. 

They looked lost again, so I agreed to help. 

We left the diner to start making arrangements for Roy.

I guess I wasn't the "Hard Ass" I thought I was. 

First there was taking in a "homeless girl", now I was helping Fred and Mary bury their son. 

"What's next? Remarrying one of my ex-wives?" 

Not on your life I thought.

++++++

Time rapidly went by, I was starting to like coming home every night to home cooked meal. They were nothing fancy, just good food loving prepared. All of a sudden my laundry, was ironed, folded and put away. My wrinkled suits were now being ironed and hung in my closet. 

And best of all, I had someone to cuddle with in my bed. No we didn't have sex. She wore a heavy floor length nightgown. I wore shorts over my briefs. 

If I had a daughter, this is how I'd feel about her. "Oh, I did have a daughter, but she was lost to me when she was five and my first wife took off," I remembered. 

My loss crept back into my memories. 

I hugged Jenny a little bit tighter that night.

But I think the best part of having Jenny here, was no more nightmares. It had been months since I woke up in the middle of the night screaming. 

I hoped the nightmares had taken a very long vacation.

After we ate dinner and cleaned up, I'd go in the living room and curl up on the couch with TV on. I wasn't watching it; it was just noise to keep my mind occupied, until Jenny brought our tea.

We'd sit and talk about our days. Jenny's day was full of happy things, like "I ironed today," or "I cleaned the bathroom." She seemed just to be thankful she was here with me and had a purpose to her life.

She'd ask me about my day. As a homicide detective, my days were not pretty. They were full of violence and death. I tried to keep my review up beat and happy, but there was only so much I could do.

Jenny always seemed a little sad when I got done.

She always made me tell her how the victims died. I had long since figured out that she was looking for a specific method of death. I feared that if I described the correct method, she'd be gone in a flash.

Tonight, as Jenny lay with her head on my lap, I asked her if she knew how to shoot.

"No! I don't like guns," was the answer I got.

"This weekend, we'll take a ride in the country and I'll show you how," I replied.

She picked her head up off my lap and just stared at me a very strange and fearful look in her eyes.

"No it's not because of 'him', but this is a rough neighborhood and you need to know how to protect yourself if I'm out."

"But he is still out there and I don't want to lose you," I thought

She was very quiet the rest of the night.

++++++

All the next day, Jenny though about Perk's request for her to learn how to shoot. She was scared of guns of any type and didn't even want to touch one.

"Was he planning on leaving her alone, and moving to a new apartment?" 

"Was he going to ask her to leave and felt she was going to need the protection of the gun?"

"Does he have a fatal illness?"

"Has he discovered that her kidnappers were getting closer?"

These thoughts haunted her all day. 

Finally she took off her clothes and put on her bathrobe, her safety net, and hid in a corner. 

The horrible scenes of the sadistic mutilation of the innocent people brought to the room, in which she was kept, ran through her mind like a full length movie, in living color and complete with sound. She heard their screams and saw them die. 

She remember seeing her Master and her Mistress hack these people to death. They discussed what they were going to do to their victims between themselves, making sure the victim heard everything. 

And then they did the action they had so completely described. 

Jenny remembered that she was hung by her wrists next to the victim. She was splattered with their blood as they were butchered. She heard their screams, she felt their fear, and she smelled it when they lost control of the bodily functions. 

In the early years, she vomited until there was nothing left in her stomach. Her naked body would be covered in her own vomit and the victim's blood splatter. She would be left hanging, covered in filth, until the corpse started to smell. Then the Master would come into the room and dispose of the victim and wash her down. He would use ice cold water and very strong detergents. Her skin burned from the abuse. Later that day her Mistress would appear, lower her to the floor, and feed her.

Jenny could smell the cleaner as she hid in the corner as if it was yesterday, not over one year ago.

She was so scared, hiding there, that she lost control of her bladder. She stayed that way crouching in her own filth, until she heard Perk's key in the door. 

"He's back to save me, "she thought, and broke down crying.

+++++++

Percy opened the door and knew something was wrong. First he smelled the odor of stale urine. Then he heard the sounds of Jenny's sobbing coming from the living room. He shifted into cop mode. He drew his pistol and dropped into a crouch.

After a quick search of the apartment, he concluded there were only the two of them. He went to Jenny's side. He ignored the smell and wetness, and pulled her to him. 

"I knew you'd save me," she muttered before fainting.

Percy picked her up and carried her to the bathroom and started the shower. When the water reached a comfortable temperature, he climbed in the shower with her in his arms, both of them still dressed.

The hot water was just starting to run out when she started to stir. He shut the water off and climbed out of the shower. Her arms went around his neck and she whispered, "Thank you for saving me. I'll take the gun lessons now, because I know you love me, "

Percy hugged her back accessing his feelings for her. 

"What have I gotten myself into," He thought.

They took turns in his bedroom, changing out of their wet clothes, and into their dry sleeping outfits.

She got in bed while Percy locked up and turned the apartment's lights off. He climbed in bed with her and they just held each other. They fell asleep. He awoke during the night to her sobbing. He put his arms around her and pulled her to him.

She started crying harder.

He held her closer while she cried, and told her she was safe and he'd always be there for her. They eventually fell asleep.

The next morning Percy woke up first. He started gently untangling from Jenny. She was wrapped around him as tightly as possible. When she started to stir, he kissed her forehead, and she quieted back down again. He picked up the wet clothes and left for the bathroom. Once there, he dropped the clothes in the tub and started his morning routine.

After finishing in the bathroom, he entered his bedroom and dressed in a t-shirt and shorts. He then went in the kitchen and started some coffee.

About an hour later, he was on his fifth cup. He was just finishing reassembling his pistol after cleaning it, when he felt a pair of soft arms go around his neck. Jenny was up. His gun was on the table. She stared at, but made no comments.

He got up and started to get her a cup. Her arms went from around his neck to around his waist. She put her head against his back. She wouldn't let him move. He turned in her arms and softly kissed her forehead again. After a minute or two, she relaxed her grip and let him go. 

He got her a cup of coffee.

After he made them breakfast, they cleaned up the kitchen and went into the living room to finish their coffee. He called in and took a sick day. He didn't change their assumption at work that the sick day was for him, it was actually for Jenny. He wanted to stay with her.




The Case of the Murdered Man



The two of them spent the day on the couch. The only times she left his arms were for bathroom breaks, and kitchen trips. Oh, they also got up to answer the door when the Chinese was delivered. (That right I said both. She went with him to the door, holding his arm the whole time.)

After they finished, Jenny turned and said, "Can I tell you my story now?"

Percy nodded, "yes."

++++++++

"Perk", I can't promise how far I'll get. Please just let me tell you what I can, don't press for more? "She begged.

I nodded thinking, "It's taken me at least one year to get this far, I don't dare interrupt."

She began, "I was a junior in High School when it all began. I had driven my car to the mall for an afternoon with my friends. After lunch my stomach started acting up, so I bid them farewell, and started to my car to go home. Nearing my car I was grabbed from behind and a cloth placed over my mouth and nose. It was the last thing I remembered until I work up in the 'room'."

"It was completely dark in that room. There was no light at all. I was hanging by a pair of handcuffs from a hook in the ceiling. They had taken my clothes off me. It was cold in that room. My toes just touched the floor. By bending my feet I was able to take some of the weight off my arms. "

"I tried to speak, when I felt the rubber ball in my mouth, held in place by what felt like straps around my head. I started screaming in my head. I guess I blacked out because I awoke to extreme brightness, and being sprayed by very cold water."

"When I looked at where the water was coming from, I saw him. He was very big and he had this hood covering his face, like black leather. I could only see his eyes. They were dead eyes, nothing behind them, you know? He was laughing at me. 

I knew it right then. 

I was dead. He was going to kill me. 

I knew it just like I knew my own name. "

"I think I passed out at that point because when I woke up I was back in the dark again. Only now I was on the floor, and there was nothing stuffed in my mouth. I started to feel around when I discovered what felt like two dog dishes on the floor. One held water, and one had some sort of pellets in it, I thought of dog food. I put my face in the water bowl. It was the first drink I had since they kidnapped me. I was also hungry. I put the thought that I might be eating dog food aside and started eating. 

Later I found out it was dog food, but I didn't care anymore. They were doing other things to me, by then." Jenny looked away and shivered. 

I just wanted her to know I was there, but I wasn't going to interrupt her. I rubbed her arm gently, waiting for her to turn back to me and continue her story.

"Perk, they never had sex with me. Master, that was what I was told to call the man, told me I was too young but when I was old enough he would enjoy me. "

"Then he just laughed. "

"This kept up for a long time. Like they were just waiting for me to grow up and then they could rape me. I had no way of telling time other than by the fact that I got hungry. One day, I woke up in the dark, hanging from the ceiling hook again, the ball gag firmly in place. I could hear breathing next to me. I was not alone."

"Time passed and the lights went on. I saw my cell mate. It was a man; he looked like a homeless person. He was dirty and his hair way too long and his face unshaved. He was also wearing a gag. His eyes looked frightened. He looked right at me, like I was supposed to do something to help, explain what was going to happen

"He just kept staring at me. I wanted him to stop looking at me. I was just as helpless as him; there was nothing I could do. I pretended to fall asleep again so I wouldn't have to see him look at me.

"But then they came in together. They never came in together; it was always just Master or Mistress. They looked excited and I knew I was going to die then. They'd gotten a replacement for me so now they could kill me. 

"I got hysterical, screaming into the gag and trying to twist away from them. They just laughed. Then they got annoyed and told me to shut up. But I couldn't stop screaming. Master brought his hand up to my face like he was going to touch me. I thought he was trying to assure me that he wasn't going to kill me. I thought he was starting to care about me. But when his hand touched my face, his other hand punched me right in my chest. I couldn't breathe. They thought that was really funny.

"They would let me get worked up and get hysterical then they'd punch me in the chest. They did it to the man too. But after a while they got bored with that."

"They started talking about killing the man. They talked about hacking him to pieces and peeling off his skin. They pulled out knives and saws and other tools I didn't know the names of. Again both the man and I got hysterical and again Master punched me in the chest and then the man. "

"While I was trying to get breath back in my lungs, they began just as they said they would. They did it, they did everything they talked about and all the while I was praying they'd just do him and leave me alone. "

"At some point I vomited and lost control of my bladder and bowels. Mistress was pissed because I was chocking on my vomit with the gag in my mouth. She calmly pulled it off then punched me again in the same place Master had hit me 4 times already."

"By then I had a few broken ribs and couldn't take a breath deep enough to scream so they just left me hanging while they finished. I passed out but I don't know how long. When I woke up the room was dark and silent except for a dripping sound every now and again. 

"The pain in my chest was horrible from my broken ribs, with my arms still up in the air I couldn't stay conscious for long. I remember passing out and waking up and passing out and waking up, all the while it remained dark and silent except for the dripping sound.

"Then I started to stay awake for longer periods of time. The dripping sound was gone. It started to get light in the room I could see the shadow of the table where the man had been. I was thankful they'd taken him and not me. I closed my eyes again.

"When I woke again, it was light and I saw..." She got up from the sofa and paced back and forth hugging herself and rubbing her wrists. "He was still there and I could see everything they did to him."

It took every bit of willpower I had to remain on the sofa and wait for Jenny to begin again or end her accounting of her kidnapping. I waited for close to ten full minutes and when I saw that she wasn't calming, in fact she was slowly getting more and more agitated, I stood up. I waited for her to see that I was standing before I said anything else. But she was lost in her nightmare and getting more and more agitated. I walked around the coffee table and stood in front of her.

"Jenny..." I said her name very lightly. "Jenny, look at me, I need you to see me, see who I am. Jenny darling, look at old "Percy" here."

"I wanted them to kill the man not me! I wanted him to die! Oh God what did I do to that poor man? I killed him. I saw his blood on the floo..."

I stepped up and wrapped my arms around her. She melted into my chest and sobbed. I rubbed her back up and down and kept telling her it wasn't her fault, she didn't kill the man, and it wasn't her fault. "It was Master and Mistress who killed the man, not you. You can't blame the man's murder on yourself just because you wanted to live, because you didn't want to be tortured and killed. Say that with me, can you? Say; "it's not my fault, I didn't kill the man Master and Mistress killed the man."

I called a halt to the story telling. I was in over my head and the last thing I wanted to do was cause the child more harm. 

"When I lived with my first wife, there were times she would make hot cocoa if one of the kids had a bad dream. I think I could muddle through and make or a cup for you. If ever there was a bad day, Jenny darling, you have right to be swimming in hot cocoa."

I grabbed her hand and walked her into the kitchen. She sat at the table looking shell shocked while I made a damn fine cup of cocoa. After blowing on her cup and sipping for a while she seemed a lot calmer.

"Perk, it went on and on like that. I'm twenty-one years old now. I had just got my driver's license when they took me. They kept bringing in more people and I kept praying they would not kill me. But Perk, they showed me pictures of my family. They told me one day I might wake up and see my little sister on the table, or my mother. They said if I was good they'd leave my family alone."

"Master almost found me but he went next door instead. It was Master who got Betty. She has the same color hair as me and we're the same size. Master must have found me but mistook Betty for me somehow. I heard him screaming at her and I just ran", she explained.

I felt Perk shift positions, when I looked at his face, I could see he was crying. He started to say something but I put my fingers to his lips, "Please it's time to finish. I have to." He just put his arms back around me and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. 

I went back to my story.

"They brought a couple of more homeless guys to the room and killed them while I watched. One day Master brought a newspaper. It was open to a story of a traffic accident where a whole family was killed. 

All he said was, 'Read!'"

"As I read, I realized that the people killed in the story were my family. I was an orphan and no one would come looking for me. I glanced at the date on the paper; I had been in this room for three years."

"They must have been keeping me drugged. I had no idea of the passage of time. I just ate out of the dog dish, went to the bathroom over an open grate in the floor, and was hosed down when I started to smell a lot. Every so often, I woke up to find myself hanging from that hook again. I usually found someone hanging with me. "

"I was relieved because, I felt that it wasn't my turn yet."

"I don't know how much time had passed again but one day I woke to find a girl about my age hanging next to me. Her eyes were terrified; they looked so big, so alive. I wondered if my eyes still looked like that. So often I felt just as dead inside as the homeless guys they brought in. What they did to her... she died hard. They took their time with her. They smeared some of her blood and guts on me, laughing hysterically. I passed out. They left her hanging there for days. When the smell got too bad they took her down and hosed down the room and me to."

"I now knew what they would do to me, when my time came."

"I kept feeling myself slipping into blackness, like an empty void. It was either sheer terror or black emptiness. I was trying to decide if I wanted them to just get it over with. I wanted this to end, just stop and end this."

"One day while I was laying in the darkness, the lights went on and the door opened. Mistress entered. She was completely nude and carried the prod. I crawled to a corner and curled up in a ball. She smiled at my reaction, walked over to me and spread her legs, "Lick," was all she said."

"I had experimented with one of my girl friends, so I kind of what she wanted. I did what she told me. She hit me with the prod saying, 'Harder Slave.' I did it harder." 

"When I thought my jaw was going to cramp, she finished. When she calmed down, 'You didn't know I was a squirter, did you?' was her reply."

"I thought she had peed in my face. It took a while to figure out what being a squirter meant. She appeared happy with my efforts and especially happy that I had a new emotion to give them, disgust."

"It became a regular thing. She would show up and I would service her. One day I asked,' Master said I was too young to legally have sex, why are you using my mouth?' 'You're 20 now; you've been here three years now,' was all she offered. "

"I started shaking because I had seen what Master did to the women he captured. You see Master was really big down there and all the women he used, screamed in pain. He liked to hurt them."

"But that was when I realized they wouldn't kill me. They'd keep me here forever, turn me into a zombie with no thought, no will, no fear, and no emotion. Just a blank shell only capable of following orders. "

"I remembered this boy I had a crush on, how I used to fantasize that he would ask me to the prom and we'd do it that night. I don't know what made me think of him at that moment, but he saved me. I got my will back. I didn't want Master to rip me apart." 

"As I was lying on the floor shaking, Mistress said, 'I control him. He can't have sex with you until I tell him to. So you had better keep me happy.' She slapped me across the face just to be sure I understood her."

"I did my best. I cried so she could laugh, I gave her reasons to hit me when she wanted to watch me in pain. As long as I kept her happy, she'd keep Master away."

"One day Mistress entered the room and left the door open as usual. She was climaxing for the third time when her foot slipped. Mistress fell and hit her head on the floor stunning her. I grabbed her by the hair and stated smashing her head on the floor. I kept doing it until I felt myself sitting in a pool of her blood. The back of her head was bashed in and part of her brain was sticking out. I'd killed her."

"I looked at her lying in her blood and wondered why I didn't feel anything at all. I'd just killed a woman and I felt absolutely nothing. Good, that was a good thing I told myself."

"I left the room, and quietly snuck upstairs. I found myself in a beautiful home and there was no sign of Master. The home was huge, and so beautifully decorated, I couldn't believe these two monsters lived here."

"I found the kitchen and Mistresses' purse on the counter. I grabbed it, opened the back door and ran out into the night. I was alone in the woods somewhere in the country completely naked."

"I alternated between walking and running until the sun started to come up. I spotted an old farm house with clothes line in their back yard. On it hung a ratty old bathrobe, which I grabbed and put on. It was the first time I had clothes on in years. It smelled of baby powder and apples, like my mother smelled. I felt safe in it."

"I wanted to stop at the house and call for help, but I couldn't. These were country people. They might be friends of Master, or Master might be watching the house for me to arrive. I was convinced that anyone who saw me would grab me and take me right back to them. I was so scared; I snuck away into the woods. "

"Later I found a place to hide and started looking in her purse. It had the usual women stuff and her wallet. The wallet had nothing but money in it, a couple of thousand in $100 bills, but no identification of any kind"

"I wandered around in the woods for days. If no one ever saw me, or found me, my kidnappers wouldn't either. Every time I came near a house I hid until nightfall. If no one was home, I snuck into the house. Most folks out in the country don't really lock their doors and I'm good with dogs. I took some food, never enough to get noticed, some of the woman's clothes if they fit. I took stuff from the back of their closet which appeared as if they were not worn very often. I found an old back pack in a garbage can at one house and took it to keep my stuff together."

"I kept walking the whole time, cleaning myself in small springs and farm ponds. 

"I gradually felt safer. But not safe enough to go to the police for help. Not safe enough to try to do anything but to keep getting further and further away.

Percy just stared at her.

"Don't look at me like that. I wasn't thinking right, I just had to get away and making a phone call and waiting for the police would not get me far away. That's the only logic I could make at that time. Now that I know you I realize how dumb I've been; running and hiding all this time."

"Finally, I found the interstate. It was my ticket to freedom. I waited for dark and started walking down the side of the highway. Every time I heard a vehicle, I hid in the tall grass at the road side."

"After walking all night, I came to a rest area/truck stop. Under the cover of fading darkness, I climbed under the tarp on a flat bed trailer. I was huddled between some big machines, when a voice told me to get out of his truck. "

"The driver had returned."

"I crawled out from under the tarp, and started crying. He was looking at me funny, like if I ran he'd stop me. I just kept backing away and backing away. Then I fell, tripped over something. He came at me and I thought he was gonna kill me, or take me or something. I started screaming and kicking trying to get away."

"But then he did the strangest thing. He started singing "Hush Little Baby don't say a word, Papa's gonna buy you a mocking bird..." 

My Grandpa sang that to me, I can still remember...

"I stopped struggling and just listened to him sing the whole song and when I looked at his face, he... I thought he was crying. He told me he wasn't going to hurt me or let anyone hurt me. "

I don't know, something, just kind of fell into place and I trusted him.

"He said, 'you must be running from something terrible.' Just like that. Just like he could tell by how scared I was. I nodded."

"He looked at my clothes and the dirt on my arms and face, 'Get cleaned up in the Ladies Room. I'll be right outside here, you're safe now.' He took my back pack, and pointed to the right side of the building. It took me a long time to convince myself not to run again. This guy could get me pretty far from here and that's what I wanted more than anything else. It took about 15 minutes, but I was a little more presentable. Getting back to the truck, he helped me climb in the passenger side. " 

"I huddled against the door, scared to death. Now that I was in his truck and not able to run, run was all I wanted to do." 

"He said I reminded him of his granddaughter, and I would be safe with him. He told me all about her. She was a cheerleader and wanted to go to college to study microbiology. I tried to pay attention but my eyes would not stay open. He pointed to the back where there was a sleeper compartment set up. Said I was welcome to crash and he'd keep driving till I woke up. I figured as long as I heard and felt the truck moving, I'd be okay. And I was."

" When I woke up just before sunset, he asked if I was hungry. He pulled into a rest stop and I ate the first real food since I was kidnapped, so very long ago. Before I could get back to the truck, my stomach rebelled at the food. "

"John, my truck driver, helped me into the truck, and then went into the rest stop and brought back some clear broth. That cup stayed down. So he went and got more."

"Later that night, he dropped me off in this city. Said he'd be passing by again next month and told me to call if I needed another ride somewhere as he gave me his cell number. So, I started my life again in the apartment building where I first met Betty."

"First John the trucker found me, and now you found me. Thank you, Perk. I really don't want to keep running." She said. 

Jenny then fell asleep in Percy's lap. She was exhausted by reliving all those horrors.

++++++++

Percy sat in the dark with Jenny's head in his lap. He thought about her story. He wished it wasn't true, because that meant there was a serial killer in their neighborhood. And that killer had been operating undetected for years.

Unknown to Jenny, Percy had tape recorded her tale, at work he would start checking her story. If these people existed, they had to be stopped. Then he remembered Betty, was she raped and murdered because she resembled Jenny? 

The next afternoon, Jenny and Percy went to the pistol range. She was a quick learner. She soon was hitting the target repeatedly. When they got home, he gave her an illegal gun he owned and showed her how to use it.




The Case of the Murdered Man



At work Monday, he refused an assignment which caught his Capitan's eye and Percy was called into the office.

Percy started out by saying, "I think we have a serial killer operating in the area, Bill" 

The Capitan started feeling a sickness in his stomach. He knew Percy would not make that kind of a statement unless he was 90% sure.

"Capitan, I've got a few more facts to check before I'm 100%. But it looks as if they are kidnapping the homeless and then torturing them to death. I don't know what they are doing to the bodies because they are not turning up."Percy went on.

"Perk, if this turns out to be true, we'll need to call in the big boys. It's too much for our guys to handle."

"Yeah I know I don't want to end my career with one of these cases unsolved." 

Percy played the tape for the Bill.

After four hours, Bill said, "Jesus H Christ! Are you sure you want this kid with you? We're going to need her intact you know, don't fuck her up!"

"That would be my goal as well. She's just a kid, really. A scared kid with no family anymore, and she seems like she trusts me."

"That's what I meant when I said don't fuck her up. Don't let her down. If you can't handle this, we have resources for kids like her. And just to be on the safe side, get her in to see Victim Advocates. Has she even seen a doctor yet?" Bill handed me the forms required for Victim Advocates so her medical expenditures would be somewhat covered.

"Nope. Didn't cross my mind until she told her tale and now she says it's too late everything is all healed up. Just the same, I'll get some chest x-rays to corroborate the repeated blows to her chest, see if any other bones have recently been broken and healed. Rape kit's not gonna show anything but just the same, she should get checked."Percy returned to his desk. It was time to go to work, checking Jenny's story.

The first thing he did was check Jenny's name against the missing person's database. He got a hit, a girl named Jenny was reported missing by her parents, in the next large city one state over, after a trip to the mall. The girl matched Jenny's description. 

He sent for the pictures of the missing girl that the report indicated were there.

Next he checked for an auto accident report, from the time Jenny indicated she saw in the newspaper. He found the accident report. It indicated that three individuals died in a one car accident. Their last names matched Jenny's.

Percy read the report carefully. The CSI writing in one section indicated he felt that the car had been forced off the road and into that ravine, but could find no positive proof. The CSI marked the death "suspicions" and signed off.

No one followed up on the report at the time.

He wrote up his findings and knocked off for the day.

+++++++

As Percy was walking in the door, the phone started ringing. Caller ID "City Police", they were calling him with another case. He let it go to voice mail. He needed to evaluate Jenny's state before he took another case.

Jenny came running out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. As she started to greet him, the voice mail tone went off on his phone. She lost her smile and said, "Is it the station?"

He nodded.

"Well answer it, I'll put the food in the refrigerator and we can eat it later," She said softly.

He started to protest, but was interrupted.

"Will you be very long do you think?" Jenny wrapped her arms around her waist. 

"Won't know until I call in, I'll just ignore it for a while."

"Seems like putting it off might only make it worse. Just answer it and go get started, the sooner you start the sooner you can be back home." Jenny squared her shoulders and stood like she was ready to take a hit.

"I'm really sorry Jenny." He said as he fished out his phone and dialed the numbers.

It was a triple homicide

++++++++

When Percy arrived at the large home in an upper middle class neighborhood, he knew this was the crime scene without looking up the address. There were two TV trucks, a couple of reporters that he recognized in a crowd of people. There were more police vehicles in the street and on the lawn than in the headquarters parking lot at shift change. The patrol officers were trying to put up the yellow crime scene tape and control a crowd that wanted to look around.

He was greeted by a CSI sergeant, "Hi Sherlock, we got us a messy one here. There are three bodies in the master bedroom all shot with a large handgun multiple times. I hope you haven't eaten because the large caliber gun made a mess of the victims."

Percy thought, "Just my luck. There goes having dinner with Jenny tonight." 

As I climbed the stairs, I dialed home, "Jenny, don't wait to have dinner with me. I won't be home until very late tonight or early in the morning. "

He could hear the tension in her voice as she said, "I'll miss you, please come home to me as soon as you can, I need you to hold me again."

He promised he would try.

+++++++++

Master sat in his little room and remembered. 

He had spotted some black guys trying to talk girls into staring in home movies. Most of the girls turned them down or wanted money.

Master followed the guys and found they had a small house in a bad neighborhood. The nearest houses were vacant and boarded up.

The house offered enough privacy that he could "play" with both guys.

One night they brought a white girl home with them. He watched as they carried her drugged body into the house. 

He waited.

The lights in one of the upstairs bedrooms went on. Soon Master saw the bright lights start. He knew they were filming.

It was now time to begin the fun, and he started up the stairs.

++++++++

He followed the CSI into the master bedroom. It was bad. He almost turned around and walked out. He looked at the patrol commander and said, "Only the guys with extra strong stomachs. I don't want to see them vomit all over the place."

The corner's guys were already there and covering the bodies. There were two on the bed covered with one sheet. One body was on top of the other, he thought, "I guess I know what they were doing."

The third body was on the floor by a camera tripod. The camera was missing. My CSI saw my look and remarked, "It was still running when we got here. I sent it back to the lab to process the tape and see if we got lucky."

My Captain arrived just as I was pulling the sheet off the couple on the bed. The guy on top was black; the woman on the bottom was white. At first glance, it looked as if they were having sex when killed. But something was wrong with what I was looking at. Then it registered in my brain.

His male parts were missing.

I heard my Captain Say, "Fuck! It's the Mayor's daughter ". I now knew where my priorities were. 

Helping Jenny just went on the back burner.

I shifted into high gear, and started giving orders, "Identify every car in the driveway and on the street, Start a canvas of the neighborhood, Get me the results on the video, Find out who owns this house. "

My Captain got on the phone to the Chief. It was decided the Chief would inform the Mayor. That was one job I didn't want.

After CSIs were done with the bedroom, I released the bodies to the corner, for their trip to the morgue. They bagged the bodies and transferred them to the station wagons. The news guys went crazy taking pictures of the three bags. 

The chief staged an impromptu news conference. He told the news people what a great job he was doing and that he would be running for reelection in the fall. The bastard then turned the news conference over to me. 

I didn't have anything to give them, so I just gave them bull shit answers. The seasoned news people knew I had nothing and grilled me for an extra 30 minutes just to be mean.

The sun was just starting to rise when I left the scene. I had a pretty good idea of what went down. The girl was drugged. The two black guys were filming sex with her, so they could use the tape to blackmail the Mayor. It fit. Now all I had to do was figure out who killed them and why. My mind said, "I'll bet it's a jealous boyfriend or husband who caught them, and went nuts."

I went home

++++++++++++++

On my kitchen table was a note from Jenny.

"Kate called. 

There is a problem with your son.

I told her you were out on a case. 

She demanded you call her tonight.

I tried to stay up and wait for you but got too tired and went to bed. 

Please join me, I need a hug.

LV U, 

Jenny "

I know how to follow orders. I went to bed and cuddled. I knew what my priorities were. Kate could wait until tomorrow.

I was awaked by Jenny's loud voice on the phone, "You can't talk to him. He was on the case all night. I guess he got in between 5:00 and 6:00 this morning." The yelling was still going on as I walked into the kitchen. I took the phone from Jenny and said, "What the fuck do you want Kate?"

"I'm your Chief of Police and who the hell is Kate?" I suspected I wasn't on his speed dial. He had never called before. 

"Sorry sir, I thought you were my ex-wife." 

"Holmes, I want you in my office in one hour! The shit has hit the fan," was the answer I got.

By the time I got back to my bedroom, Jenny had clean clothes for me all laid out and a hot cup of coffee on my dresser. A little voice asked through the door, "Are you decent? And can I come in? I have breakfast." 

She had made me an omelet and toast. She fed me while I dressed. I made it to the chief's office with 5 minutes to spare and heart burn from eating and drinking my coffee too fast. I wasn't in the best of moods. 

Little did I know this was the highpoint of my day, the rest would turn to shit.

+++++++++++ 

In the Chief's office there was the Mayor, the Medical Examiner, the DA, my Captain, two gentlemen I later learned were FBI special detail, sand the Forensic Captain. When I walked in, they all stopped talking. "Something's really wrong," I thought.

I was introduced to the FBI guys. One of them smiled and said, "Any relation?"

Well you can guess my answer. 

Then he added, "We're part of the unit that catches serial killers, we've heard you might have one."

"I do have one, but I'm just getting the information together, so we can call you. What has that got to do with this case?" I humbly asked.

They all started talking at once until the chief held up his hands. "One at a time please, starting with forensics," was all he said.

Forensics started, "The bodies on the bed were staged. It seems the guys were killed first. The girl had been drugged, and then was brutally raped and killed. Then she was shot, postmortem to look as if she was killed along with the rest of them."

"The video tape?" I asked.

"Nada "was the reply. "It was typical homemade style porn. It stopped just before the guys were killed and was restarted after the bodies were arraigned back on the bed. We are still going over the room looking harder now, but I don't expect to find anything, Sherlock. This guy is good."

"Can we have the video tape and send it to our lab?" asked one of the FBI guys.

An evidence bag with the tape in it slid down the table toward him. "Good luck," was added.

The ME started talking next, "The guy you refer to as 'The Camera Man' was also shot postmortem. He was actually died of a broken neck. Whoever broke his neck was very strong. The victim's head was nearly torn off. Only the skin on the neck kept the head from falling off. It's almost as if the head was twisted around in a complete circle and then returned to its normal position."

"The man on the bed was also dead before he was shot. It appears he was punched in the chest hard enough to burst his heart. There were vaginal secretions on what was left on his genitals. But there was no evidence he ejaculated. I'll know more if his genitals are ever recovered."

"The girl is another story. Mr. Mayor I suggest you step out of the room for this part." The ME looked down waiting for the Mayor to refuse; luckily he got up and walked out.

He resumed after the Mayor left, "We found evidence that the girl was awake up until she died. From the tests that we did on her, we found evidence that a rubber object was in her mouth and appears to have been held in place, by straps wrapped around her head. It appears she was gagged by a ball gag to keep her quiet. Both her wrists and ankles showed signs of being restrained. Her left arm was broken in a way we think was caused by her extreme efforts to escape."

He stopped and took a breath, "Something very large was inserted in her vagina. It was long enough to enter her cervix and wide enough to tear the perineum and vaginal walls; fourth degree tear. We found both her vagina and cervix were almost destroyed by this object. The pain must have been excruciating. But that's not what killed her. She died from a blow or blows to her chest that broke her sternum and burst her heart."

I was sitting there when I remembered what Jenny had told me, "But when his hand touched my face, his other hand punched me right in my chest. I couldn't breathe. They thought that was really funny."

"I think this was done by my serial killer. Looks like he's escalated." Percy said quietly.

I then spent the next 90 minutes telling Jenny's story and answering all questions.

When I was all done, one of the FBI guys declared "Looks like we've got one, a really nasty one."

I left the meeting thinking that my day couldn't get any worse, when I remembered that I had to return my ex's call. 

"Why did I promise Jenny, I'd stop drinking?" I thought.

+++++++++++

I checked the time difference because my ex wife had moved to the west coast. Then I remembered that she was the one who moved away from here, taking my children with her with no consideration about how it affected me. 

I dialed her number.

As luck would have it, I didn't wake her up. She was already up.

"What do you want?" I said as a greeting.

It took her a moment to recognize my voice, "I want you to take your son to live with you, "She replied.

"Fuck you," and I hung up the phone. It had been about 13 years since she left with my kids. I never had any contact with them since she left. Oh I tried, I sent cards, letters, presents for their birthdays and Christmas, I telephoned (she kept changing her number every time I tried). After a few years I just got tired of trying and stopped.

Now her she wanted me to take my son? No, "Hi how are you? " How have you been? ","Stick it up your ass," nothing but a demand. She divorced me and took the kids not the other way around! And now she was demanding something! 

"Well it would be a cold day in Hell", I was thinking when my cell rang.

"Percy?" My ex wife asked.

"What about 'Fuck you' don't you understand?" I asked before I hung up again.

She called again, I hung up, again. This went on for about the next 15 minutes. 

I guess I must have gotten a little loud because my Captain was out of his office and standing before me saying, "Goddamn it, Percy! Talk to her!"

I answered the phone the next time it rang. "Hurry up! You're using up my cell minutes."

"Well, ass hole, stop hanging up and I'll explain," She replied.

And explain she did. It seemed my son at 15 stopped being the loving son and started becoming the juvenile delinquent he was now. She couldn't control him anymore and was threatening to send him to me when he was arrested by the police. My son had told the judge that he wanted to live with his father and not his slut mother. 

The judge said if I accepted my son then she would suspend the sentence. If I didn't accept the child or the child was arrested or ran away, my son would spend until he was 21 in a juvenile facility. 

"Does our son know I'm a cop?" I asked, "And a real hard ass?"

"Maybe," Was the answer I got.

"What do you mean maybe?" I asked.

"Well he has a 20 year old picture of you from your graduation from Police Academy," Was the reply I got.

"Well tell him the truth!" I screamed, "And call me back with the answer."

+++++++++

That night I told Jenny about the phone call and my ex-wife's request at dinner. About two hours later, Jenny said, "I think it's a good idea for him to live here, and besides I'd like the company."

About midnight the phone woke me up. I expected it to be another homicide so I answered, "Yeah!"

"Dad?" said a tentative voice on the other end.

I looked at the caller ID and it showed me a west coast number, "Todd?" I asked.

"Hi Dad, Mom said she called you?" I heard.

"Yeah, and I'm thinking about it," I replied.

"Please Dad, can I come home? I'll be really good. I'll even get a job to pay for my upkeep."

"Shit!" I thought. My son sounded desperate. "Well I guess we could try it for a while. If it doesn't work, there's always the juvenile center as a back up."

"Thanks Dad, when can I come back? I'll be very good, you'll see." was his answer. 

"As soon as your mother and the judge work it out," was my answer.

About a week later my desk phone rang, I answered as my usual charming self, "Yeah! Detective Holmes."

"Judge Sanchez, Oregon State Juvenile Court speaking, "was the reply.

"How may I help you, your honor?" I politely asked.

I heard laughter on the other end. "Now that we've established the pecking order, I'm calling about your son," she replied.

"Your Honor, I'm a homicide detective and most of the people who call me on this number are not your most outstanding citizens or are people calling to increase my work load. I'm sorry I snapped at you." I said as humbly as possible.

"Well I wanted to talk to you about your son before I make up my mind as to his sentence. Do you work with children?" She asked.

"Your Honor, in my line of work I only see the kids just before the coroner gets them. I try and find their killers to stop the body count," I answered sadly.

"I understand. Are you working on anything that would stop you from flying out and picking up your son?" She asked.

"The case is confidential and I can't talk about it, but I can tell you that I'm on a taskforce with the feds, the state boys, the county boys and my guys, "I answered truthfully.

"I see. I hate serial killers also," was her answer.

I started to protest, but she stopped me by saying, "I didn't say anything about serial killers, did I?"

"Do you expect to have the case closed quickly?" She asked.

"Unfortunately no, "I sighed.

"I'll arrange transport. Your work is too important," was her answer.

++++++

After her phone call to Detective Holmes she was a little conflicted. When he answered the phone he sounded like a typical "hard-ass" cop, not wanting to be disturbed. 

His voice conveyed a feeling of power and no nonsense.

The fact that he was assigned to a "serial killer" task force impressed her. Now just any cop worked those cases. They only assigned the very best.

She was conflicted about him. She had had her clerk "check him out" and all the reports came back positive. 

She had a choice, send the kid to juvenile center or ship him across the country to a father he never really knew. Returning the boy to his mother was out of the question. The mother was a drug addict and part time prostitute. It was from his mother that he was running.

Later that afternoon, she made her decision and signed the papers.

He was his father's problem now. But she had taking a little liking to the boy and hoped her would straighten out. She made a mental note to follow-up on the boy. 

++++++++++

A couple weeks later my phone rang and I was asked if I could meet a certain flight number at a certain time and sign for a prisoner.

"What's the prisoner's name?" I inquired.

"Todd Holmes,"

"I'll be there," was my answer.

Being a cop and at the airport for a prisoner exchange, I got to bypass all the TSA bullshit. I was shown to a locked room and asked for my ID and the prisoner's name and flight number. I was told that the prisoner would be brought to me when the flight arrived so I could exchange the paperwork.