Dennis Larsen - With Cruel Intent

The day of rest for Blanche Delaney had been anything but that; the frantic ride to the hospital following the shooting had been harrowing. She now sat in the General Hospital’s waiting room, there had been no word on Jasper’s condition since they arrived. He was taken immediately to surgery and that’s the last she saw of him or the doctors. Police at the scene had already questioned her, but she knew another round would be coming her way, when she saw a runty sized officer walk through the doors, as if he were looking for something. He looked to be about sixteen but she knew that could not be the case, fair complexion, narrow eyes and face with a poor excuse of a mustache under his nose. His uniform fit well and looked like it had been pressed more than once to give it almost sheen at the creases. Blanche watched him, trying not to make eye contact, but she knew she’d been made when he walked through the sea of people and came to stand directly in front of her.

“Ms. Delaney?” he said.

“Yes, I’ve already given a statement and answered a number of questions,” she said, with a pre-emptive strike against the inquisitor.

“I understand that, but we wanted to clarify a few things for our report before we can have you sign off on your statement. Would you mind coming with me? There’s an administrative office where we can have a few minutes of privacy,” the young officer said, pointing the way.

Blanche stood, moved past the officer in the direction he had indicated and asked, “How did you know it was me you were looking for? There are a lot of people in this waiting room.”

“Oh, the officer that you gave the statement to last night described you to me and said you had big…uh, big blue eyes. Knew it was you right away.”

“My, you must have remarkable vision to have spotted my eye color from clear across the room. No wonder you're a police officer,” she said, giving him a knowing grin.

They stepped through the door of the administrative conference room just behind the admittance desk and the officer closed the door behind them. The room itself was cold and uninviting; the long, rectangular table that took up most of the space had nothing on it but fingerprints from a previous meeting. The walls were bare, save for a picture of the hospital taken from an aerial view, and an abstract painting occupying most of one wall at the head of the table. Blanche looked at it trying to identify what it was, and what it had to do with health care, nothing came to her mind.

They sat in the two chairs closest to the door, the cherub of an officer laid the clipboard on the table between them and asked some questions, some new, some old.

“It’s our understanding that you weren’t able to get a good look at the assailant, is that correct?”

“Yes, I told the other officer, that was so interested in my eyes, that I noted a man with a hoodie go into the bathroom but that was about it. I don’t even remember seeing him come out or leave the diner.”

“That’s fine; a few of the other customers were able to give us a bit more than that. Could you tell what nationality or race he was?”

“I want to say Caucasian but I could be wrong. Pretty sure he wasn’t black, but from the angle I saw him the hoodie blocked most of his face, and he had the ball cap and the shades, so I just can’t be certain. It’s been a very long night.”

“I understand, we appreciate your willingness to talk with us again. When the firecrackers starting going off do you remember seeing this guy again? Even as you exited the diner do you remember him being in the parking lot?” he said, trying to remain professional.

“No, all I remember was Jasper practically carrying me out of the place, then him pushing me toward the truck. I turned just as the last bang sounded. I thought it was another blast coming from inside the diner, but thinking back, it was much louder than the others. I mean, it just wasn’t registering to me, the noise, the shouts, and all the confusion, everybody thought we were under attack and were being shot at.”

“Yes, it must have been very traumatic for you and the others. When did you first notice that Jasper was down?”

“I ran to the truck and looked back to see why he wasn’t with me and it seemed like it was almost in slow motion. I heard the final loud clap and I saw Jasper get knocked forward, and then went down on his knees, then onto his chest. I wasn’t sure what had happened to him, just didn’t seem real, you know. I’ve never seen anything like it, these things don’t just happen to normal people.”

“Our point exactly, Ms. Delaney. Now, I hope that you’re not offended, but I need to address a line of questioning that may make you uncomfortable,” he said, not willing to make eye contact with the librarian.

“What do you mean, ‘uncomfortable’?” she asked.

“How long have you known Mr. Jackson?” the patrolman asked.

“Who? Oh, you mean Jasper. I’d say about a month. Met him just after I moved here from Arizona.”

“I see, and what is the nature of your relationship? Were you intimate?” he asked, lifting his eyes to meet hers.

“And what do you mean by, ‘I see’? We were not sleeping together, if that’s what you’re after. He’s a nice guy that has helped me out of a couple of jams and we are friends. Are people not allowed to just be friends anymore?” she said, with indignation rising in her voice.

“No. I mean yes. Certainly it’s okay to just be friends, believe me I don’t enjoy asking these questions, any more than you do answering them. It’s just my job.”

“Okay, well let’s get through them then,” she said, backing off a bit.

“Thank you. So are you aware of Mr. Jackson’s arrest record, and last night did you see him engage in any drug related sales or purchases?”

“Okay, hold it right there! Where is this going? Did you not catch that we were at a family diner having banana splits? We weren’t on the corner of drug central trying to score a kilo.”

“Believe me, I know, but could you just answer the question,” he said, apologetically.

“Fine, no and no.”

“What do you mean, no and no?”

“No, I am not aware of his past. And no, I did not see him engage in any drug deals,” she said, as matter of fact.

The young man couldn’t help himself, and felt bad that she was feeling so defensive, so he said more than he should have. “Listen, I probably shouldn’t say anything to you but I think you deserve to know a few things.”

“Thank you!”

“Jasper Jackson has several arrests for both possession and intent to distribute marijuana. Nothing recent mind you, but back about 4 years ago he had several scrapes with the law, so when something like this happens, we have to rule out that it was not drug related. Unfortunately, they usually are.”

“Oh, my heavens, that had not even occurred to me. Jasper is such a nice guy. I suspected he smoked some weed but didn’t know he was selling or anything.”

“Now don’t get me wrong, he’s never been busted actually selling, he just had enough in his possession that it looked like he was going to distribute. Charges never stuck and he pleaded down to a lesser charge. Has only ever spent a couple of days in jail with no felony charges.”

“Well, that does make me feel a little bit better, but do you think this had something to do with drugs?”

“Most likely; looks like Jasper was singled out by the shooter,” the cop said. “One final question, then you’ll be free to go. I’m sure you're anxious to see your friend.”

“Yes, I am, let’s get this done with,” she agreed.

The officer laid the pen he’d been using on the clipboard and sat back looking at Blanche. “Miss Delaney, are you currently seeing anybody, romantically that is?”