Frank Zafiro - Some Degree of Murder

The case was assigned to River City Police Detective John Tower of the Major Crimes unit. When asked if the murder was sexually motivated, Detective Tower responded, “We’ll have to wait for the forensic tests to come back before we can make that determination.”

No immediate suspects have been developed, but the police department’s Crime Analysis unit will begin compiling suspects who match certain criteria. “Once the evidence is collected, and that includes interviews of potential witnesses, Crime Analysis will input that data into the system and pull out individuals of interest. It’s a slow process sometimes, but we’ve got to make sure we don’t overlook anything,” said Detective Tower.

Anyone with information regarding this homicide is requested to contact the River City Police Department at (509) 555-4100.

“Is that your daughter?” Laverne asked when she brought my breakfast.

I glanced up at her and covered the article with my hand. “Yes. Did she ever come in here?”

Laverne put my plate down with a clatter and stared at the picture for a minute. “She doesn’t look familiar. Do you guys live around here?”

“No. She was hanging out down here.”

Laverne’s face softened and she glanced outside to Sprague Avenue. When she looked back to me, she nodded silently and walked back into the kitchen.

I folded the article around Fawn’s picture and tucked it back into my coat.

After breakfast I wandered back out to Sprague where traffic, both human and vehicle, was starting to pick up. I closed my eyes and lifted my head to the morning sun, feeling its warmth on my face. I pulled out a Camel and lit it.

“Got a smoke, man?”

I turned around to see a young black kid with a serious case of the shakes. His eyes looked older, but I guessed him to be about fifteen years old.

I shook a cigarette free for him. He reached out with a shaky hand and plucked it from the pack.

“Suck your dick?” he asked, lifting the cigarette to his lips.

“What?”

“Suck your dick?”

“Get away from me.”

“C’mon, man, I’m jus’ tryin’ to make a livin’.”

I stepped towards him, ready to inflict the reality of the situation on him, when a loud voice boomed, “Dookie!”

The black kid spun around and looked back up the street at Rolo, the pimp I’d met in The Hole.

“Get your black ass back over here.”

I looked up the street at the pimp and gave a small wave. He ignored my sentiment and slapped Dookie hard across the face when he was in range. East Sprague’s version of tough love, I guess.

The normal players were scarce in the morning, usually spending their mornings hung-over or in a cell block. By coming down early in the morning, I hoped to get a different feel for Sprague Avenue. Down near the ACME TV, a leggy blonde stood next to a bus stop sign, smoking a cigarette and watching the passing traffic with intent eyes.

The girl wore a dirty, red flannel shirt over even dirtier blue jeans. The shirt was open and Mickey Mouse’s face peered out from a faded t-shirt. Her long blond hair was stringy and a month or two had passed since its last bleaching.

A patrol car cruised slowly down the street as the whore leered at it. The female police officer behind the wheel never looked in her direction. The hooker was smarter than I had given her credit for. She stood near the bus stop, acting like she was waiting for a bus.

I lit a cigarette and headed in her direction, hoping to show Fawn’s picture.

A shiny, black Mercedes pulled up next to the curb and the leggy blonde clicked over to the car. The passenger window rolled down and she leaned into it. The windows on the car were tinted, but the interior was light enough that I could see an older white male behind the wheel. I stopped in the doorway of an antique toy store and watched. It took only a few seconds of negotiation before she nodded her head and stood up from the car. She spun around deftly on her high heels and clicked off around the corner with the car following her.

I took a deep inhale on the Camel and dropped it to the sidewalk. As I got close to the alley’s entrance, a patrol car came around the far corner with its engine gunning. The car whipped into the alley in front of me.

A young black officer was behind the wheel while an older, graying officer was in the passenger seat. They stopped behind the Mercedes and activated their emergency lights. The Mercedes was rocking slightly side to side. I could see the head of the driver, but the prostitute’s head was out of view.

The black officer jumped out of the car and strode quickly and confidently to the driver’s door of the Mercedes. The graying officer took his time getting out of the car and saw me standing at the alley entrance. He ignored me and sauntered up to the passenger side of the car.

“River City Police Department, sir,’ the black officer said after he smacked the top of the roof.

The hooker jumped upright in her seat. The older officer stood next to her window where she never saw him.

“Roll down your window, sir,” the young cop ordered.

A moment later the driver leaned his head partially out of his window. “What’s the problem, Officer?”

“You’re getting oral sex from a known prostitute, that’s the problem.”

“She’s not a hooker, Officer. She’s an old girlfriend.”

“What’s her name then?”

The hooker leaned over and yelled, “Toni.”

The young officer looked frustrated. “Ma’am, please sit back. I’m talking with the driver.”

“Her name’s Toni,” the driver said.

“Yeah, she told me.”

The driver pleaded, “I swear she’s an old girlfriend.”

The young officer crossed his arms and frowned. “Let me see your driver’s license and registration.”

The driver reached over to the glove box and fumbled around. Toni looked to her right and saw the older officer outside the car. She rolled down her window and said, “Why are you standing there?”

“I’m his back-up officer,” he said and watched his partner.

“Do you know Officer Hiero?”

He turned his head to her. “Hiero?”

The hooker nodded.

“Yeah, I know him.”

“I know him, too,” she said.

“He arrest you?”

She shook her head, the blonde hair flopping over her shoulder. “No, we’re friends.”

“Friends?”

She nodded again.

“I doubt it.”

Toni glanced at the black officer and then turned back to the officer standing outside her window. She leaned in and read his name tag. “Officer …. Bates, you’re not his back-up. You’re his training officer. Am I right?”

Bates ignored her and watched his partner.

“Shit,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Rookies arrest everybody.”

A broad smile grew on the older officer’s face. It faded when he glanced over at me. He jerked his head for me to leave the area.

“Can I get out of the car?” Toni asked.

“No.”

“But I need to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Toni whined.

Bates glanced over at me. “What the hell do you want?”

I shrugged.

“Take off.”

I glanced around, shoved my hands in my pockets and started across the street.

“I’ll tell you about the dead girl,” Toni blurted to the older officer.

I spun around and stared at them.

“What dead girl are we talking about?”

“The one in the bingo parking lot.”

Bates stared at his partner and thought for a moment. When he started to turn in my direction, I wandered off to the end of the block over on First Street. I shook a cigarette free, lit it and stood there smoking. When the cigarette was done, I changed my vantage point to make sure the police car was still there.