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- For the Greater Good
| For the Greater Good; Chapter One | |
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| Topic Started: Jul 1 2009, 12:18 AM (303 Views) | |
| Acolyte_of_the_Hero | Jul 1 2009, 12:18 AM Post #1 |
Friendship
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Ugh. I cannot believe I'm doing this, but I've flaunted getting writing done so much, I figure I should...and Juggernaut told me to "DOOO ITTTT!" so I will. My chapters aren't long, sometimes, and it's probably littered with typos and in need of revision, but whatever. I'll probably alter the title later, just needed something in there for now. I hope you don't think I'm copying Vaxis. THIS IS NOT THE MAFIA STORY I WAS THINKING OF. Anyways, I'll update...whenever I write more. If you like it, I'm sorry that it might be awhile, but I thank you for your kindness. If you don't, that's your opinion, not mine. Read at your own risk. Without further adieu.... --------------------------------------- Chapter One A lonely song on the ebony piano sang through the bar; I signaled to the bartender for another pint, it had been a long day. He set the bitter cure on the counter next to my elbow and nodded to me in a routine pseudo-sympathy. He didn’t ask questions and I didn’t want him to. The hundreds of faces like mine that wander here each night is something he must have grown accustomed to. Besides, the news would spread to everyone soon enough. Double homicide, no prints left by the killer, house on fire and mostly charred. A rare occurrence in suburbs like these, and as a detective, it was my job to find the answer—an impossible one at that—to an unsolvable puzzle. I had checked the crime scene over and over, but the signs of arson just weren’t there; it’s as if the place just spontaneously combusted. Grabbing the mug, I gulped down the foamy beer and slumped in my stool. “Don’t beat yourself up over this, Grayson, no one could find an ignition point,” a woman smelling of freshly plucked lilies said. Her scent was a welcomed change to the stench of liquor and self-pity which made up the atmosphere. I sheepishly met her green eyes covered by mascara lashes and stray strands of light brown hair. She kept it long, past her shoulder blades, it curled at the ends trying to climb back up. Her young face offered me a ruby smile—a pale complexion brought out her thin lips and small concave nose jutted just enough to shadow part of her eye—and she sat next to me. “So many people are going to ask questions. Things like this never happen in towns like ours,” I half-slurred. To be fair, I already swigged down three glasses before she arrived. “There’s…just no evidence, Christine.” “Come on, I’m sure if you look again tomorrow, you’ll find something. Sometimes, if you wait a day, the answer becomes clearer,” Christine encouraged me. I rolled my eyes and went back into my drink; thankfully some things don’t talk back. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy her company—honestly, I did, she was beautiful, especially in a place filled with dreadful people such as this—but I wanted to sort the case out in my head. “It won’t become clearer!” I shouted, banging my fist on the mahogany counter. “There’s no solving this one, I’ve checked the scene so many times, my eyes are watery from all the soot! Everything is charred and the bodies barely exist!” Those who weren’t passed out in their vomit or had faces locked together (with their hands deep in impulsive regions), stared at me. I may have been drunk, but I could still feel their half lidded eyes gawking towards my direction. Dammit, I wanted to avoid attention tonight. Christine looked at me half-heartedly; she was new to the force and still had to believe that there was an answer. Before either of us could retort, the TV grabbed everyone’s attention. The bartender clicked the volume up on the remote. “Cassandra Tanner here with Channel Five news at the home of a single mother, and her only child which today was burnt almost wholly to the ground. Police forces are still searching for clues of the arson slash murder of young Elizabeth Kingston and her son Conner. The two were tragically killed in the fire, and any other method of murder has yet to be identified. No one has seen a crime such as this in years, and it pains us all on the news crew to see such a terrible event occur to these two innocent people. So far, the police have not found a suspect, we will inform you of any breaks…” I’d heard enough and glanced around the room. All faced were glued on me, looking for some sort of answer; waiting for one that I couldn’t give. I should have changed out of my uniform. Not knowing what to say, I pulled my black fine-stitched wallet out of my pocked and threw the tab money on the counter. Focusing my eyes on the floor, I walked straight—though not really “straight” as it is hard to do when drunk—to the glass door, pushed the handle, and left into the night as the little bell on top rang, letting the outside know of my arrival. I heard Christine’s heels clicking after me. If only I had my car, I could have tried to lose her, however being a cop it wouldn’t have been a good idea to get a DUI. She caught up to my side and pushed her hair off her black sweatshirt. “It smelled too much like cigarettes in there, anyways. Those people just aren’t used to mysterious fires like that,” she said. “Yeah, well, neither am I,” I snapped at her. She didn’t mean to make me retort like that, but I couldn’t help it. When I looked at her face, she looked a little taken aback “Look, I’m sorry I snapped. It’s not easy for me, especially since I only had just passed the detective exam. They expect all the answers, but I can’t find them; I feel like I’m letting everyone down.” She looked down for awhile and sighed. “Come on, Grayson. Everyone knows you’re going to do no less than above your best, that’s part of the reason you were chosen for detective. The force has faith in you, and so should the people of this town.” I knew she was right, but I still couldn’t shake away the inner-torment I faced in the situation. We walked in silence through the alternating light and darkness the streetlamps caused. I could catch a glimpse of the red bricks and lit windows of the buildings in the momentary light. This was the “heart of the town” meaning that all the shops, bars, restaurants, and other go-to places were; it wasn’t a city, but I suppose it suited our town. Lucky for me, my apartment complex was near the end of the area, so I only had a few blocks walk when I needed an adult pick-me-up. The clacking of our shoes—her heels made more noise than my shoes—turned softer when we reached the softer tar of the parking area. “Thanks for walking me home, I’ll see you tomorrow at the Kingston place…well, what’s left of it, anyways,” I said giving her a small wave. “Just get some sleep, Grayson. I’m sure we’ll find something tomorrow,” she returned before walking further down the road, to her house. Actually, I don’t know if it was a house. Either way, that’s where she went. I rubbed my eyes and went to the front door, when I opened it, I bumped into someone in the dark hallway, I think it was a man. “Sorry, didn’t see you there,” I apologized without emotion. “Don’t worry, it’s rather dark out,” a male voice replied. It was unfamiliar, but I didn’t know some of the people who lived here, or it could have been a friend or relative. “Have a good night, sir.” He walked out of the doorway and I trudged up the stairs, to my room. I reached for my key and unlocked the door. I needed sleep, tomorrow was going to be just as long. Chapter Two All that remained of the crime scene was mostly ashes. I stepped over some foundation with black char marks hiding their true color and examine the remains of what looks like a chair. To be honest, I’m not sure if it is a chair, all I can see left of it is the bottom portion of a piece of furniture, and maybe the arm of it, burned black. And there’s not much of that left. In fact, the only reason I’m fixing my attention on it is the victim’s—Elizabeth was her name, I think?—corpse was found with a draped arm, if you could call it that, on it. The forensics team took the scorched cadavers away yesterday for autopsy reports; what will they learn that isn’t already obvious? The victims died in a fire, and no one on the force could find a source. There was a spot on the arm of the chair that looks either like a possible print, or burnt stitching. This could be my chance. I pulled out a carbon power kit and brushed some on the arm of the chair, hoping for something to show up. I carefully placed the prints lifting tape on the powder to attempt to lift a print. Pulling the tape up gently, careful not to smudge the possible print, I stuck it piece by piece on a blank white card to let any print left reveal itself. Nothing. “Dammit!” I yelled throwing the card down. The fire probably destroyed any evidence that was left, anyways; which wouldn’t be so bad if the fire actually had any fuel evidence. I rubbed my forehead, trying to wipe the frustration out of my mind. The morning sun warmed the scene and as the time passed, it only got hotter until my agitation passed the breaking point. I sighed deeply, stomped my foot, and said, “That’s enough for right now everyone. Go eat lunch or something, we need a break.” The other men looked relieved and went out of the burnt wreckage to their cars. As they left to get to Ned’s—one of the local diners that often seemed the pick for lunch—I stayed behind to wait for Christine; she had been at the forensics lab all morning working on the autopsy reports. My last shot at some evidence to narrow down suspects was there, in those innocent corpses. I slouched down and sat on the doorstep which was covered in ash and put my head in my hands for somewhere past half an hour. Tires skidded to a halt and broke my thought and the sound of a car engine ceased; I looked up expecting to find my co-worker with the lab results. Instead a white van with the News Station 5 logo painted on the side and a satellite dish glaring back sun rays if you looked at it. I rolled my eyes and stood up; two clicks of van doors lead to the appearance of none other than Cassandra Tanner and her shadow with a camera briskly coming my way. “Oh, hello, fancy meeting you here. This is great, we can get a live interview from a cop on our station first, great for ratings,” she said, with a tone of superiority. She normally talked like this off camera, after all she was the “star reporter, extraordinaire” and aimed at filling in as an anchor as soon as she could. “All right, let’s do this inside the house, much better atmosphere. Billy, let’s go.” She ordered her overweight, pudgy faced camera man into the remnant of a house. He shifted his bland white baseball hat and followed her in. “Excuse me, Miss. You’re not allowed into the crime scene. We are not finished with examining it, and clearance has not been given allowing news reporters to enter. Also, I am the detective in charge of this case, not a cop,” I told her with a sense of authority. She annoyed me easily, so it wasn’t hard to do. She knew who I was anyways; she interviewed me a few months ago when I made detective. “Oh don’t be silly. They won’t mind if it’s just me, and Billy if you count him,” she replied with an innocent smile. I nearly snorted with laughter at this woman. Who did she think she was, exactly? “No, Miss, they would mind; please film from the outside only, or not at all,” I said trying to sound as professional as possible. Her smile quickly did an about face and her eyebrows furrowed. Billy didn’t show emotion, probably because she hadn’t told him anything yet. “Fine, we’ll just do the interview out here, Daniel,” she snapped and motioned to Billy to follow. “Just have some details that will make this worthwhile, kay? she added as if I didn’t really matter. I could have started laughing again, but I bit my tongue. “It’s Detective Grayson, Miss Tanner. As far as details go, you’re better off searching for Atlantis because the perpetrator hasn’t given us much to work with,” I retorted. “But let’s get on with it.” Just as she was about to either make a snide remark back or begin the interview, a silver Kia Forte pulled along side the street. This time Christine stepped out of the vehicle holding several folders looking at Cassandra with annoyance and strode across the lawn towards us. I let a sigh of relief escape and left Cassandra and pudgy Billy by themselves at the doorstep only with a “Goodbye, maybe later.” “Is she here pestering you for an interview? It’s so like her to interrupt people while their busy working or on break just for her interviews. When will that blonde snake learn…” she started on about the news reporter, but I cut her off. “Yes, she’s annoying. But did you get the forensic reports finished? Was there anything that could provide an answer about a possible culprit?” I asked eagerly, walking faster towards her car and stepped on the asphalt to get into the passenger’s side door. She ducked her head in, obviously both of us wanted to get away from the insisting Cassandra Tanner and her drone, and started the car. “Yes, the report is mostly complete, but the child was mostly burnt, so it’s hard to tell most of the details and normal findings on him. The mother...well, there were some findings on her corpse, but I think you might want to wait until we get back to the lab for them.” She looked serious, and her green eyes locked with mine, adding to the mystery of the results. The sound of Cassandra’s van leaving the drive way and hurrying away from the scene seems to break the silence. “We can’t leave yet. I have to wait for the squad to get back from lunch so they know I’m off to the lab and not just take off thinking we’re done,” I said grimly. She smiled and pointed at the oncoming traffic. Several police cars were closing the distance and pulling into the scene. “Looks like that’s out of the way.” I stepped out of the car to relate what was happening to the team and when they said they’d stay and search, I got back in the Forte so we could leave. “Now about the body of the mother, Elizabeth—I can’t explain it, so don’t ask me right yet—there was something very odd about how she died. Well, to be honest, I suppose when she died.” Chapter Three When we left the lab that evening, I was even more confused than before; as I had hoped against, the results only further led to mystery. “It just doesn’t make sense,” I pondered to Christine. “How does a person die twice in one day, from two different causes?” Signs of the sun descending into the tree-line to end another day began to color the sky. Christine gazed up at the clouds and I continued, “The boy did not display the same double death effect as the mother?” She continued looking up at the orange mixing with blue, as if the ocean suddenly decided to fade into a flame of yellow and orange tints and the white sails of the ships lazily floated away from the fiery sea. Soon the gentle pink would invade the color palette of the setting sun. “No, according to our autopsy, Conner was killed by the fire.” She turned to look at me, “And he died only one time.” I reached up to rub my eyes and stopped walking. So did Christine. She gazed up at the sky, locked into the allure that it gave off—a simple pleasure. How she wasn’t stressed out by this case I didn’t know. All of this mystery was starting to give me a headache. “This case is impossible to solve, if we can find a clue by the end of the week I’ll be struck by lightning on the spot,” I complained, joking to try and lighten my mood. Christine stopped her trance and looked at me. She smiled revealing every one of her white teeth. “Hey, let’s go grab dinner, maybe if we put the case on hold for a night, something will come to you. Besides, you waited for me rather than getting lunch, you must be starving.” I didn’t know what to say, so I nodded, and we both got back into her car. Just as we did, I could have sworn I heard a faint whisper of help in my mind; however, I realized I didn’t and that Christine had just asked me to help her decide where to go for dinner. 
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"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not." 
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| Balore | Jul 1 2009, 01:09 AM Post #2 |
King of Kings
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Very descriptive and quite emotional. The characters, so far, seem fairly real to me. I'm looking forward to more, Aco. :3
Edited by Balore, Jul 1 2009, 01:09 AM.
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 === Ask me stuff: http://www.formspring.me/DouglasDauphney | |
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| Juggernaut | Jul 1 2009, 01:09 AM Post #3 |
Omnibus Locis Fit Caedes
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Good start so far Write moar ( O_O) |
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| Vaxis | Jul 3 2009, 11:20 PM Post #4 |
Cash
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I like this very much, so far. Very descriptive stuff. |
 Γνώθι Σεαυτόν | |
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| Acolyte_of_the_Hero | Jul 29 2009, 12:34 AM Post #5 |
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Friendship
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There. Long time since I posted anything, but chapters two and three are up. I said I would not post until they were both done, and they are both there. Chapter three is short, like I said it would be. I wanted it to be, I don't know why. I like short chapters every now and then. Though, it's not what I planned for. Nothing like it at all. That chapter has been moved to a later installment, because I don't think it's ready to show its face. Well, here you are. Crappy and littered with typos and grammatical errors. I did not enjoy writing part of chapter two, because it bored me a lot. It took me awhile to do and get out of the way, but I prevailed. Yay! Anyways, There they are. Whee! |
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"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not."
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| CopShadowGuy | Jul 29 2009, 09:18 AM Post #6 |
The Night
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Is it appropriate to applaud at a book? |
| GET AGAINST THE TREE!!! | |
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| Acolyte_of_the_Hero | Jul 29 2009, 04:36 PM Post #7 |
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Friendship
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If by applauding, you mean you like it, then yes. Yes it is. |
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"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not."
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| Balore | Jul 30 2009, 08:06 AM Post #8 |
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King of Kings
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Your stereotypical portrayal of the cameraman was great (right down to the tilted hat)! Keep it up; I'd very much like to see this once things really start to get going. |
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=== Ask me stuff: http://www.formspring.me/DouglasDauphney | |
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