Martin Cordemann - The Polizeit Inspector

“Yes.” Mulligan looked at the Detective and smiled. “You know, sometimes I get the feeling you are the only person who really understands me... and who's always understood me.”

“You expect too much from a first meeting, I'm afraid.”

“Maybe you're right.”

“I often am. Makes the job more easy.”

“I told you the thing about the banter?”

“You would be the first, not to.”

“I can imagine that, too.”

“So I'm gonna meet you again?!”

“You will.”

“I'm not sure...”

“If it will happen?”

“If I'm looking forward to it.”

“Banter?!”

“Hey, you won't remember, next time we meet.”

“Damn, you're right!”

“Yeah.” Ethan tilted his head. “Nice haircut,” he said.

“I had the feeling you might say something like that,” Mulligan smiled. Then he nodded. “See ya.”

“Obviously,” Ethan agreed. “Oh, by the way,” he added after a moment. “Pleasure meeting you!”

“So, in the name of the law, I'm going to arres...”

The man started to run. That was a reaction Ethan really despised. They had done something illegal and they were found out and then they did not even have the decency to face a proper arrest. Every time he said “in the name of the law” the criminals knew what was coming and then tried to run. Maybe he should just stick to a nice short “you are under arrest”, but these stupid rules demanded how he had to make an arrest. He sighed, pulled out his gun and started running.

It all, as usual, had started with a murder – and three suspects.

“So, Mr. One, Mr. Two and Mr. Three, welcome to our beloved game: Who's the killer? You three are our candidates for today, and it might not come as a surprise to you, but one of you is a murderer.”

He smiled.

“If anyone likes to use his telephone joker and call his attorney, now would be a good time.”

But nobody did. Pity.

“Soooo,” Ethan started, “I invited you all to a trip in my little time machine to present to you, tatata, the crime scene, as we call it.”

Like a presenter he presented it, but the suspects weren't very enthused.

“Or, to be precisely,” he corrected himself, “let's say, one part of the crime scene. The... painful part.”

They stood in front of a skyscraper right on the sidewalk. The area was shut down by the police due to some gas leak or something... but there didn't seem to be a sign of the murder. No blood, no chalk drawings on the pavement, nothing that indicated that a crime had happened there.

“As you know, the victim, whom you all know as Mr. Four, was thrown of a building. So the first part of our very popular two-part-crime-scene is, of course, the roof of the building while the second and most deadly part is the pavement right in front of us.”

Not as shocking as he had hoped.

“You, my dear suspects, are here because you a) own a time machine, b) knew the victim and c) where in the building close to the roof when the despicable deed happened.”

He looked at his watch.

“So all we have to do now is to confirm the exact time of the murder. It's one minute past seven now...”

“7:01?” Mr. Two repeated, looked at his own watch to confirm, then shouted: “ Fuck!” And ducked with his back to the building. A few seconds later there was a loud noise, a splash of blood and a mist of red fluid painting all the suspects in the same deadly color. Two of them had an expression of surprise and disgust on their faces, as well as lots of blood – only Mr. Two had a clean face... and was still staring at the pavement.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Two. May I take that as a confession? Well,” Ethan smiled, “I will.”

That was almost too easy. He took out his handcuffs.

“So, in the name of the law...”

That was, when the running started.

Ethan missed those cases where it was only mental capabilities that mattered, the ones he solved with his head and not with his gun, and where he didn't have to run around ready to shoot someone – although in those cases he was really tempted to do so, because he was pissed.

“Stop!” he shouted, but the criminal obviously preferred to ignore him.

Tempted!!!

The path of escape, which should directly lead to hell, went up a staircase, through an underpass, then they had reached a small park. Ethan still hadn't learned to give the area of possible escape a good look in advance, and he doubted he would start now.

Then, suddenly, he saw double... or twice? He no longer seemed to be chasing just one man, but two. It may have been out of solidarity or for some other reason, but another man had joined the fugitive. Wearing different clothes and looking quite different, Ethan did not assume that his criminal had simply divided into two to confuse him – although he would have totally succeeded.

Then the Detective noticed that he wasn't alone anymore, either. Next to him someone else was running. A tall figure. With blond hair... Who now also noticed him and looked at him in surprise.

“So we meet again, Detective Chief Inspector Mulligan.”

“DI Cause. What are you doing here?”

“Have a guess.”

The DCI gasped out of breath.

“Try again.”

He gasped again. Running did not seem to be his strong suit.

“Okay, it's the same thing you are doing... I guess. Hunting a criminal. Well, at least I hope that's the case.”

“That I'm chasing him?”

“That he's guilty.”

“Oh, you don't have to worry about that. Insurance fraud. Some complicated plan... that didn't quite work out. And yours?”

“Just convicted, fled directly.”

“You can't trust anyone anymore.”

“Especially criminals.”

Ethan gave up, stopped running and shot into the air. Both fugitives stopped, looked at each other in surprise and then at the two Polizeit officers.

“Next one won't miss,” Ethan shouted, pointing the gun at them.

“You would just shoot them both?” Mulligan asked in surprise.

“Let's say: reluctantly.”

“That's what you said last time.”

“Your last time or mine?”

“Mine, I guess.”

“I guess so, too. Hm, there was something I should tell you for our next encounter... but I can't remember what it was.”

“Tell me? From whom?”

“From you.”

“You are supposed to tell me something from me?”

“Yeah, something like that.” The two officers arrived at their fugitives, who were waiting a little insecure under a tree. “You two, under arrest, comprendre?”

“Com-?”

“Do you understand?”

Now both criminals nodded.

“Good, finally!”

Ethan looked at them.

“Which one is mine?”

“That one,” Mulligan said, pointing to the man he didn't chase.

“I'm glad we cleared that up.”

After handcuffs had closed around four wrists, Cause looked at his colleague and noticed something.

“Did you wear this scar last time?”

“You don't wear scars.”

“Ah. But did you have it?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Looks good on you.”

“Thank you.”

“But...”

“What?”

Cause looked at the blond guys confused looking hair.

“Get a haircut.”

Mulligan looked at him in confusion.

“Till now you never had a problem with my hair.”

“But I will have, I guess.”

“Why did you never say something? Will you never say something?”

“Because... I already have.” Ethan sighed. “Well, maybe I should have waited until our first encounter, I mean yours, not mine, obviously, then I would have gotten more out of it. But well, that's the way it is when you meet the way we do... which nobody else does, I suppose.” He shrugged his shoulders. “So, anything planned for the rest of the day/week/month?”