Chapter Nine: The Unwanted Investigation
Detective Josh Hastings closed the door of the unmarked police car and joined his partner, Scott Robertson. Their purpose was to investigate a domestic violence dispute. They happened to be in the area. A neighbour had reported raised voices and perceived violence at Apartment 34, 18 Haddington Avenue.
Upon reaching the third floor, both detectives could still hear what sounded like shouting and possibly thumping. They removed their guns from their holsters and knocked on the door.
Josh hated these situations but it was an aspect of his work that he simply had to deal with, no matter how inconvenient it was.
“Mr Manning,” Josh addressed the man inside, “this is the police. Open up.”
“Go away, f…..g pigs” was the response.
Josh took aim at the door lock and fired. His partner then kicked in the door open. In front of them were an irate Mr Manning and his badly bruised wife. Mr Manning was well over six foot tall and strongly built but not very athletic looking. His wife was bleeding and her face was black and blue. She looked extremely afraid.
“Mr Manning, release your wife and back away,” Detective Hastings ordered him with his firearm pointed in the bully's direction.
Instead, the abuser, motioned towards both Police Detectives with an angry look on his face. Josh didn’t want to get into a battle with the powerfully built aggressor and so he shot him quickly, once in each leg. Even after this, the man was only partially slowed in his movements. He lunged at Josh who dived out of the way. Mr Manning fell to the ground, screaming angrily. Due to his bleeding legs he no longer had the strength to climb to his feet. Both police officers managed to cuff the assailant with his hands behind his back.
“You shouldn't have done that Josh. Internal Affairs will have to be called in on this one,” Scott informed his partner. “I’ll deal with this, you go take a break.”
Josh also hated dealing with internal affairs but he preferred being alive in one piece and having to answer to a bunch of pen-pushers than being used as a punch bag by a six and a half foot ogre.
The decorated police detective was walking down the stairway after leaving the apartment when he received a call from a police officer named Brad Dickerson. Brad was a few years younger than Josh and from the same neighbourhood. Their respect for each other was mutual.
“Josh you’re not going to like this. We’ve got a suicide here. At least that’s what it looks like. It’s Nick Jameson, your friend.”
Josh almost collapsed in shock. Nick was his best friend and had been the Best Man at his wedding. To hear that he was dead was a shock in itself but to hear that it was suicide did not make any sense. Nick was full of life and had no history of depression or similar difficulties.
“Josh, The Reapers are going to be called in on this one so you better get here before they do if you want to have a look at this one.”
“The Reapers?” Josh exclaimed.“What have they to do with it?”
“Well there’s a suicide note here that says he’s a changeling and he couldn’t go on any longer.”
Josh’s interest was piqued further by this revelation. Now, he thought to himself this did not make any sense at all.
“Where are you?”
“220 Alderlay Court.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Josh returned to the apartment. “I have to take the car,” he informed his partner. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”
Scott didn’t object or even ask what it was for. He knew it had to be important.
As Josh drove on his way to the crime scene, he became more and more angry. He was convinced that there was no chance that Nick Jameson had committed suicide and he owed it to his best friend to prove it.
Eight minutes later, Josh reached the scene of the supposed suicide. Nick was still there hanging from the rafters. Brad and his partner Arvi, were there, examining the scene. Josh saw the suicide note laid out on the desk only a few feet away. His heart was beating anxiously as he read it.
It read: “I am so sorry to have brought shame on my friends and family. For the last few years I have been living a lie. I am a changeling and I cannot go on.”
Josh examined the handwriting. Although it was similar to Nick’s, he wasn’t convinced that it was a perfect match. There was one thought that kept flashing in Josh’s mind that made him doubt the note’s authenticity. Nick fought against the laws introduced by the President that gave Reapers power to round up Changelings and deny them the most basic of rights.
Only two weeks previously Josh had met Nick in a pub. Nick had mentioned that his marriage was on the rocks and that Greta planned to leave him with his two young kids. Josh knew that his friend loved his family as much as anyone could. It was evident that his determination to oppose the Government policies in relation to changelings was the only issue between them. The activist did what he could to thwart the President. He printed leaflets and distributed them. He also joined a group which used peaceful protest as a means of opposing Government policies in this area.
Josh didn’t want to get involved. He didn’t agree with the new laws but he had a wife and family to look after. The police detective didn’t see the point in sticking his nose in when it wasn’t vital or unavoidable. Like any good friend Nick respected his decision. The police Detective was also aware from his previous meeting with Nick that a number of the protest group's leaders had been arrested and never heard from since. They called themselves People Against Discrimination or PAD for short. In some of the newspapers since that meeting with Nick, Josh had noticed articles in newspapers saying that other members had been arrested since. It seemed that the President was unstoppable and he had the public in fear for their lives. He could round up anyone he wanted, especially anyone who got in his way.
Josh had gone to the same high school as Nick. They were rarely in the same classes and hardly knew each other during that time. It wasn’t until after Josh’s eighteenth birthday that they became close friends. Josh had gone to a local bar with his girlfriend at the time. He was on his way to the lavatory when four men stood in his way. It looked as though they wanted to start a fight. Josh wasn’t a coward but he didn’t like his chances against four men of similar build to him.
“I think you’re a sissy boy,” their leader declared. “What do you say? Are you a sissy?”
Josh hesitated but during the moment he delayed his response, Nick stepped up and stood beside him. “I hope there’s not going to be any trouble here,” he suggested.
“I don’t like, your odds,” the leader of the gang of four replied.
Two of Nick’s relatives, who were over six feet tall, stood up from their barstools.
“I don’t like your odds,” Nick’s uncle Larry declared, “and two of my friends are right behind you.”
The gang of four turned around and noticed two other strong young men approaching. They were visibly intimidated and without saying anything, simply walked away.
Nick and Josh spent the rest of the night discovering that they had many things in common. They shared anecdotes and bonded over a few drinks. Their friendship grew stronger with each passing day.
The Police Officer looked around the room. A chair that had supposedly been kicked over by Nick was lying on the floor. He bent over to take a closer look. He questioned in his own mind whether this was his friends doing or that of the Reapers.
The apartment itself was quite small, with only one bedroom. The Kitchen and living room were merged. There was a small couch, a television and a small desk with a chair. Also on the desk was a novel called “Of Mice and Men” by John Steinbeck and a half empty glass of water. Curiously Josh did not notice a black pen on the desk to match the note. The pen beside the book was blue.
The kitchen part of the apartment had an unwashed pot and pan and some dirty dishes. Other than the overturned chair there was no evidence of a struggle or any indication that Nick had tried to reach for a knife or similar weapon.
Josh was about to enter the bedroom when he heard the sound of vans screeching outside and a number of men jumping out of them in a hurried manner. Even though this task force was only recently set up almost all citizens were deeply afraid of this elite group of enforcers commonly known as Reapers, In just a minute they had reached the fourth floor where the apartment was located. Their leader stood almost seven foot tall, dressed in a black robe, black trousers and almost knee high boots. His face was mostly masked. He dispensed with greetings of any kind. “Everybody out. We’ll take it from here,” he said in a deep voice.
“There are a lot of questions to be answered here,” Josh protested, “and I intend to find answers.”
Ordinarily Josh wouldn’t have interfered, but this was different. His best friend had been discovered dead and he intended to find out why.
“This is not your Jurisdiction. We are the supreme authority. I suggest you leave or you might find yourself in jail accused of sympathising with Changeling scum.”
“You have no right to threaten me…” Josh started to say before the seven foot tall Reaper grabbed him by the throat. “Get out,” he said in a defiant manner.
The other Reapers who weren’t as tall, looked on in an unsympathetic manner. Even Brad, had disappeared from the room and had sought to avoid confrontation with these freaks.
The lead Reaper was hiding behind a mask. Josh could only make out his eyes. They were angry and defiant as they looked directly at him.
Josh was brave but not stupid enough to continue fighting a battle he couldn’t win.
He left the building but was determined not to leave things lie no matter what he was up against. He would return in order to find out the truth.
Two days after Nick’s body was found hanging in the activist’s apartment, Josh returned to the same building determined to find some answers. He approached the door of the nearest apartment to Nick’s and knocked on the door. There was no answer. He tried again several times and still there was no response. Josh was sure that there was someone inside. On the sixth occasion he took out his badge and informed them that he was a police officer. Still there was no response. The next four doors that Josh knocked on did not answer either. He concluded that the occupants of the apartments were living in fear of the Reapers. There was no way that they were going to answer the door.
The last door that Josh knocked on was the one closest to the stairway and elevator. After about three minutes of knocking, the apartment door was finally opened. For a moment Josh breathed a sigh of relief.
The man who answered appeared to be in his seventies. He was small and mostly bald with some clumps of white hair on the side of his head.
“May I help you?” he said, leaving the latch on the door and opening it just enough to peer out.
“I’m a police detective,” Josh said, displaying his badge, “I was hoping that you could help me with an investigation.”
“I don’t know anything,” the man replied nervously.
“But I haven’t asked you anything yet.”
“I can’t help you,” the man said before closing the door.
Josh frantically knocked on the same door. “I just want to ask some questions. It will only take a minute of your time.”
The old man did not answer. Josh persisted for five minutes before going down the stairs to the ground floor. He asked the security guard if he could replay the tapes from the evening in question. The guard was chewing gum. He wore a uniform and his blue eyes seemed to be constantly in motion, never fixed on the one place.
“The Reapers took them man. I don’t ask questions,” he replied.
“Do you remember what happened that night?” Josh asked.
“I wasn’t on duty.”
“Who was?”
“Old Dirk. He’s not working tonight.”
“Where does old Dirk live?”
“Man. You’re one crazy dude. Everyone knows that once the Reapers get involved in a case, that’s something that is not to be messed with.”
“Do you have the address or not?”
“56 Chestnut Grove,”
“And his full name?”
“Dirk Ramirez.”
Josh committed the name and address to memory before quizzing a few more uncooperative individuals about the night in question. His efforts proved fruitless.
The police officer left the apartment block at 8:45pm and drove straight to 56 Chestnut Grove.
The property at 56 Chestnut Grove was wooden in structure. It was in a neglected state. The blue paint had been mostly eroded from the wooden building. Some of the windows had holes in them, as if local kids used it as target practice for throwing stones.
The house was very near a river. Josh was very familiar with the area. He had spent much of his adolescence down by the pier. One kind old man took him out for a spin on a boat on a number of occasions.
Josh knocked on the door for about five minutes. He could hear no sign of movement inside. Josh felt frustrated and angry. He was determined to get answers. He moved to a nearby window and made the hole in the already damaged window pane even bigger. He then reached inside and unlocked the window. There were a few disinterested teenagers in the vicinity but nobody else.
Josh climbed in the window, being careful not to cut himself. He moved towards the main door and pressed a light switch.
“Mr Ramirez?” he called out in a low voice.
Josh went from room to room, looking for the security guard but found nothing. He then started to search the house in more detail.
The state of the house gave the impression that nobody had lived there for a while. There was plenty of dust in the air. At times the Police Detective struggled to breathe. Several books and videos were tossed around the floor and on tables in a hap hazard manner. Josh wasn’t aware of anyone who still had a video player other than Mr Ramirez. In the living room he saw a note. It was recently written, judging from the ink. It became clear to Josh that this was a suicide note. It read:
“For the last few years I have found my illness too difficult to overcome. I cannot take it anymore. I am sorry to all my friends and family but I cannot go on. I hope you will understand. Yours truly, Dirk”
Josh didn’t believe for a moment that this was a genuine note. Perhaps there was a chance that he could save him, he thought to himself. Frantically he searched the back garden, but found nothing. He then approached the teenagers out front.
“Did you see anything?” he asked in desperation.
“No,” the three of them replied one after the other.
Josh could not help but think that they were hiding something. They were afraid of something, he told himself.
He looked at the river. The current wasn’t very strong. If his body was dumped there it couldn’t have travelled very far. He thought he could see something in the distance. He started to run along the riverbank. As he grew closer and closer he became more and more confident that what he could see was most likely the body of Dirk Ramirez.
Eventually Josh caught up with the dead body. It was no more than three feet from the riverbank. He grabbed a very long stick and used it to hook in the body to the side of the river. Once the body was pulled ashore, he called for assistance from his department.
Josh’s heart was beating very fast. He was frustrated and angry. He wanted to get to the bottom of the murders of Nick and Mr Ramirez but the harder he tried the further from the truth he seemed to be. What was just as frustrating was the fact that no one else dared take on the Reapers and his actions could be viewed dimly by his superiors.
Fifteen minutes later a squad car and ambulance arrived on the scene. The squad car was occupied by officers Bradshaw and Johansson.
“What have we here?” Johansson asked Josh in a laidback manner. Josh never warmed to Johansson’s attitude. Most of the time it appeared that Johansson did not care about his job and was only in it for the paycheque and any other green and white paper he could pick up along the way. Johansson was tall and strong with fair hair and a moustache. He was slightly overweight. He went to the gym once a week but was never disciplined enough to go on a regular basis. He also smoked a lot and normally didn’t care whether the smoke was blowing into Josh’s face or wherever else it went.
“What have we got here, Josh? A suicide?” Officer Bradshaw asked.
“I don’t think it was a suicide. The kids over there must have witnessed what happened. I think it’s no coincidence that the victim was a security guard at the Alderlay Court apartment block.”
“Was there a note?” Johansson asked
“Yes.”
“Well then it has to be suicide.”
“I’m not buying that.”
“Look, let’s ask these kids over here what they saw,” Luke said aloud as he moved in the direction of the teenagers.
Three of the teenagers remained at the scene. One of them was almost six foot tall, with long black frizzy hair and wearing jeans with holes in them. To his left was a small teenager with a red t-shirt and green jacket. He had blue eyes and long brown hair. On the right was a fair-haired adolescent with a tight haircut brown eyes and acne.
“Did you boys see what happened here?” the Detective asked as he approached.
“Yeah, I saw everything,” the tall teenager responded. “I saw that old man leave his house and just jump in the river for no reason.”
“How come you told me you didn’t see anything at all?” Josh interrupted.
“I told you what I saw.”
“You didn’t happen to see any Reapers here did you?”
“No man of course not,” the adolescent replied.
“Now what do Reapers have to do with this Josh?” Johansson replied, “It’s a suicide, plain and simple. Closed case if ever I saw one. Let’s have a look at this suicide note. That will clear everything up. I think you should go home Josh and leave it to the professionals. The guys who are meant to be working tonight.”
Josh was exhausted but he didn’t want to go home. The investigating officers behaviour was frustrating him. He could never understand how an unmotivated individual like Johansson ever became a cop in the first place.
“Where is this suicide note anyway?” Johansson asked.
“It’s inside the house.”
“And how did you get in there?”
“How do you think?”
“Look, Josh,” Luke addressed him, “in all fairness, this does not look good. I think you should get some rest. You’re on in the morning and Jean is probably worried about you. The Captain can update you on the case in the morning. There isn’t much else you can do here except get in the way.”
Although Detective Hastings didn’t want to go home, he knew that tonight his energies here would be wasted anyway. He decided to quit for the night but was determined to get to the bottom of the matter in the coming days.
The following day, Detective Hastings entered the Captain’s office. Captain BT Decker was on the phone when he entered. He was mostly bald with grey hair and classes. He was small for a police officer and was aged in his late fifties. Josh rarely crossed the Captain and in his experience up to now Captain Decker had been quite fair and even-handed in his approach to his subordinates. After three minutes he ended the call and spoke first.
“Josh, I hear you’ve been meddling in a case that doesn’t concern you.”
“That’s not my perspective Captain.”
“I’ve already assigned the case to Johansson and Bradshaw. I don’t see why you have to interfere,” the superior officer responded with his eyes peering out above the rim of his glasses.
“Captain, both murders were connected. They are both connected to the Aldarley apartment block. I’m sure that it’s the work of the Reapers.”
“I’ve seen the evidence and I’m happy that Bradshaw and Johansson are investigating the matter carefully. I know Nick Jameson and you were good friends, but you have to trust me on this one.”
Josh wasn’t impressed. He suspected a cover up. Even the Captain was afraid of Reapers. It was clear that he didn’t want to cross them and everything he said and was about to say would conceal that fact.
Even Josh was afraid of them but that didn’t mean that he was going to throw in the towel and give up on his lifelong friend.
“I can’t say I agree with you Captain, but if you don’t want me to interfere there isn’t much I can do.” As the conversation continued, Josh had been monitoring his boss facial expressions for a sign of torment or anguish. It appeared to the detective that his superior officer had no conflicting thoughts on the subject at all and his conscience was clear.
“Good,” the Captain responded. “That’s what I like – a team player. Did you hear about Hoepecker?”
“No. What is it?”
“He was sentenced yesterday. He got five years with three suspended. He’ll be out in five days.”
“Oh.” Even Josh had to admit to himself that this was distressing news. He feared for his family and knew that a loose cannon like Hoepecker was capable of anything.
“If you need anything, I’m here to help you. I know he hates you. They found a dartboard in his cell with your picture on it. If you need time off to take a break with your wife and kids you only need to say so.”
“Thanks Captain, but I should be alright.”
“Now, how are you getting on in the Vicente case?”
“It’s still in its early stages Captain. I’ll let you know when I make real progress.”
Detective Hastings turned and left the office. He was now a team player. That might have raised his spirits when he was a kid but now it only dampened them.
At 7:30 later that evening the Hastings household realised that they were running low on milk and butter. It was a pleasant Evening, so Josh decided to walk to Freddie’s store. On his way back home, he heard a man call out to him in a low voice. Josh realised that the man was hiding on the far side of a wooden fence but crouched down so that Josh could not clearly make out who it was. His voice sounded familiar, but Josh could not place him.
Josh came closer.
“My name is Charles Burbank. I live in an apartment near Nick Jameson,” the man said in a whisper.
Now Josh remembered.
“I’m sorry for what happened to your friend,” the man said in an anxious manner. “You have to understand that I can’t ever testify or give evidence to the police but I can tell you what happened. I woke up at about 3:30am. I woke because I heard a vehicle pull up outside the apartment block and several men climbed out. I then heard them coming up the stairs and down the corridor. I went to my door to peak out and see what was going on. I could see that it was the Reapers alright and they were knocking on your friend’s door. I was afraid they would see me so I shut the door again. Your friend let them in to the apartment. I could hear some groaning and very briefly the sound of a struggle, but in a matter of minutes they were gone again, in as indiscreet a manner as when they had arrived. Nothing can be done about them. They are evil, they are dangerous and they are above the law.”
Nothing about what the old man said came as a surprise to Josh. It was as he expected, but part of him felt as though he was up against an unstoppable force.
“So you won’t go on record then?”
“No.”
There was a fear gripping the locality, Josh thought to himself. Everyone was afraid of the Reapers and he was one of the few dumb enough to stand in their way. He didn’t want the same to happen to him as happened to Nick but he couldn’t stand by and see Nick’s reputation tarnished irrevocably.
“And would you be able to recognise any of them?” Josh asked.
“No, of course they were all wearing black robes and masks,” the old man replied. He was in such a distressed state that he was almost out of breath when he spoke.
“Well I know where to find you if I have any more questions.”
“Please don’t call to the apartment,” the man replied out of trepidation. “People might talk. This is all I can offer you. Now you know the Reapers are behind it. I just felt that I owed it to your friend to at least let you know. I have done it now and that is as far as I can go. Goodbye.”
The man then walked away in such a way as to conceal his identity from Nick and anyone who might be observing. He left Josh standing there with three milk cartons and a tub of butter. He didn’t actually unearth any revelations. He had been sure of the Reapers involvement all along. Josh was however grateful that the old man had made an effort to be helpful even though he was scared out of his wits. The police officer did not know what he could do now. Nobody wanted to put their head on the line and it would be so easy just to quit. It was his conscience getting the better of him that caused him torment. He cared too much about the difference between right and wrong which meant that it was difficult to just walk away.
The following morning Josh Hastings entered the Captain’s office once again. This time, he was reading a newspaper. He looked up and saw Josh. “Well?” he addressed him aloud.
“Captain, an individual approached me yesterday. This individual claimed to see the Reapers storm Nick Jameson’s apartment the night he was supposed to have committed suicide.”
“Didn’t I tell you that Johanson and Bradshaw are running this investigation,” the older man behind the desk said in an unimpressed manner. “Who is this individual?”
At one point Josh had a lot of respect for his boss, but recently his behaviour was disappointing. He didn’t seem to be much better than Johansson in Josh’s estimation. Maybe the police captain was going soft in his old age. Maybe he always was soft and Josh was too blind to notice.
“I can’t say.”
“You can’t say?” Captain Decker asked aloud before pressing a button on his phone to summon Bradshaw and Johansson.
Josh wished that he could get through to the Captain and find a soft spot in his exterior but it appeared as if his boss only wanted to frustrate him and not help him in any way he could.
Both detective’s Bradshaw and Johansson entered the Captain’s office.
“Hastings here has evidence in relation to those two suicides.”
“What is that evidence sir?” Bradshaw asked.
“He can’t say,” the Captain responded.
“An individual saw Reapers entering Nick Jameson’s apartment,” Josh responded
“Did this individual go by the codename “Deep Throat”?” Johansson asked, with a chuckle.
“Well,” the Captain responded, “who is this individual then?”
“I can’t say. He’s afraid of the Reapers.” Josh’s guard was up. He was afraid that the same thing that happened to Nick, could also happen to his neighbour. The longer the conversation went on, the lower the Police Captain sunk in his estimation.
“We’re all afraid of the Reapers. There a big outfit, but that shouldn’t mean he should remain anonymous. Who is he?” the higher ranking police officer insisted, in an angry manner. The older man may have been faking his anger in an attempt to get a name from Josh, but that name could prove to be a death sentence.
“I told you I cannot say.” Josh insisted.
“Well then, we’re just going to have to deduce that you are making this up. I’m disappointed in you Hastings. I thought you were a team player,” his superior officer declared.
“He thinks he’s the next Sherlock Holmes Captain,” Johansson declared. “Instead he’s more like Inspector Clouseau. God only knows what hairbrained ideas he’ll come up with next. As I said Hastings, leave it to the professionals.”
Josh was despondent. He was outnumbered. It was if he was banging his head against a brick wall. Part of him wanted to keep banging and everyone else was telling him to stop wasting his time. What could he do now? he wondered.