Post by Seere on May 1, 2010 22:57:47 GMT -5
Shamrock 7
Part 1: The Pledge
Danny leaned against his desk, breathing just as softly as he could, his hands gripping the warn plastic grip of his weapon, a .45 Colt. The handgun was empty, but it gave him a bit of a psychological boost. Worst come to worst he might be able to bluff his way out of a corner. But that seemed unlikely. The door to his office was locked tight, but with the way that it was being pounded on, it might not matter much. The dull thump of flesh meeting oak reverberated through the office. With each blow, the door frame shuddered. Danny didn’t think it would hold. He said a silent prayer, on the off chance that any higher power might hear him and see fit to step in and lend him a hand. He never had bought in to the heroin of the masses, but there was no such thing as an atheist in a fox hole.
Minutes passed before the assault on his door subsided with a rather disturbing abruptness. Danny held his breath, knowing that it was quite likely that his nemesis was still lurking just outside the chamber entrance, listening for any sign of activity. From experience, Danny knew he could keep from breathing for 90 seconds. If he could hold out longer than the attackers patience, he might have a chance. His heartbeat served as his clock, each beat counting down the time left. 80, 79, 78…No footsteps, they were still there. His pulse quickened. 65, 64, 63…He mentally chanted a mantra, as if he could simply will the aggressor to leave. 41, 40, 39…His lungs began to ache, the pulse in his ears now a drum roll that reverberated through his skull. 20, 19, 18…still nothing. His eyes watered and he felt dizzy. 10, 9,8…need to breath…7,6,5…just hold out a little more…4,3,2…his willpower was spent. Success! The clatter of tennis shoe on wood flooring had never before been so appealing. He took a handful of deep breaths, the rush of air tasting as sweet as a cool glass of lemonade. Thus, having successfully dodged paying his rent, Danny gave a little nod of thanks, because while he didn’t put any value in higher spiritual beings, he figured there was no harm in hedging his bets and getting on their good side, in case he was mistaken.
Kicking his feet up onto the desk, knocking over one of the piles of accumulated debris, Danny reclined in his chair and surveyed his domain. His desk was an odd combination of papers, office supplies, moldy remains of snacks left half finished, lottery tickets and post-it notes with spider web like hand scrawled memo’s, indecipherable to the untrained eye. Out of various nooks and crevices he’d catch an occasional glimpse of a forgotten knick knack, or if he was lucky, a few dollar bills. But like the shifting sands of the Sahara, such artifacts were not exposed long before being buried once again. The rest of his office was in a similar state of disarray, with stacks of papers three feet tall, monoliths of stored information which was almost entirely obsolete, yet kept on the off chance that one day some of it might come in handy. There were three other chairs, two of which sat on the opposite side of the desk, the remaining one perched in the corner and currently occupied by the only lamp in the place. Behind his desk was two large windows, but between the drawn shades and dust accumulated on the glasses surface, only the most stalwart and determined ray of sunshine stood a chance of penetrating Danny’s sanctum.
Danny had no love for the level of disarray in his office. Frankly, it disgusted him. But while the chaotically sprawled masses bothered him, he had already accepted that like a house of cards, each mound of refuge was interconnected dependent on the rest for stability and support. To even begin organizing would require breaking apart that carefully ingrained support and result in the entire conglomerate tumbling to pieces. Should that happen, Danny would likely be unable to make any substantial renovations without the aid of the city healthy board, a professional contractor, and a small army of cheep labor. Lives would be lost, untouchably. Best to simply let the sleeping dragon stay slumbering.
Perhaps the only item which displayed immunity to the rampant filth which had claimed the rest of the office was the picture frame Danny had placed atop a mound of old newspapers in the corner. It was on this photograph his eyes had currently fallen. The picture was clearly dated, its edges frayed and torn, one corner burnt slightly. But the majority of the image was still recognizable. It showed a family of three, all of them smiling as they stood gathered together on the edge of a pier, waves crashing against the rocky outcropping. Danny smiled a little, looking at the image. It was one of the few he had in which both he and his parents were smiling. He studied his fathers face, reading the features like he would a work of art. The man possessed a square jaw and cooked nose, both of which were half obscured by the mange of tangled beard. His eyes were deep set, as if locked in a perpetual glare, two molten green orbs suspended in shadow. It was only though trained practice that he could see the subtle elevation of cheekbones and softening of the otherwise granite like features which alerted Danny to the fact that this bear of a man was indeed grinning. On of his fathers great knotted arms was claped around his wife. Danny never understood how he didn’t accidentally snap her in half. His mother was small and sprite like, her limbs lean and narrow, her features sharply angular. Never a tall woman, she looked especially tiny when compared to his father. Her eyes were just as green as his fathers were, but her’s were soft and cool, great pools of emerald which instilled a sense of quietness. Her head was tilted back, laughing to the heavens, her scarlet hair tumbling back down her shoulders. Even now, Danny could hear the lingering echo’s of her laughter, a chirping burst of light which called like a siren song to those who listened, inviting them to join her.
The last person in the group was Danny himself. He was only half his current age in the image, but you could still see that he took more after his mother. His face was sharp and narrow, with wide eyes and an eager smile. He had straight red hair, cut short and spiky. He was rather gangly looking, his boney limbs sticking awkwardly out of a jacket which was clearly to large for him. Not much had changed since then, except now at least his clothing fit properly, and he’d managed to ad just the slightest tone of muscle to his otherwise stick like frame. His hair was still a quill like bluster of red, tuffs of hair poking out sporadically from the mass. His eyes had recessed a little, though he rather liked how they made him seem just a tad mysterious.
Danny reemerged from memory lane, staring at the inert ceiling fan, reminding himself that he needed to buy a new motor for it. Not that he could, for the same reason he couldn’t pay his rent or get bullets for his gun. In his line of work, there were often long lulls between paychecks, and no matter how he applied himself, this was not a situation which he could change. Unlike any other profession, being a private detective was by its own nature, a reactionary one. It was not as if he could just go out and begin questioning passerbies. Need someone to tell you if your wife is cheating on you? Do you suspect your boss is hoarding profits to spend at the dog races? You sir! Is your son selling alcohol behind your back? No, unlike other professions, he simply had to sit and wait till someone came forth in need of his services.
“Perhaps, if your not to busy, you could throw me a bone, eh?” Danny asked the ceiling, hoping that if some higher power ha indeed spared him the wrath of his landlady earlier, it could manage to spare him a client. “Nothing to fancy, just a simple case to crack”. Of course, the world was not a place where one could simply get anything they wanted just by asking. If that were indeed the case, Danny’s office would be cleaned, his lottery tickets winning and his landlady less pugnacious in her assaults on his poor defenseless deadbolt lock. Oh, and all the good stuff you promis at a miss America contest, world peace, feeding the homeless, that stuff. Simply put, that doesn’t happen.
Which only made it all the more surprising when his phone rang. Danny casually knocked over one of the pillars of garbage, unearthing the telephone. The disturbed pile proceeded to tumble off the desk and onto another pile which had accumulated on the floor. Picking the receiver he silenced the synthetic buzzing and placed the phone to his ear.
“Shamrock 7, private investigation service. Danny O’hare speaking, What might I do for you today?” Danny said casually.
“Mr. O’Hare? My name is Nancy Callahan, I need your help” the woman’s voice answered. Danny guessed American, mid 20’s, probably on the short side.
“Much as I’d like to help you, I prefer to talk to my clients in person.” Danny remarked. He’d learned that people whom didn’t show up in person weren’t the kind of people he wanted to do business with. In his experience, only two kinds of people used private investigators. Either paranoid upper crust executives whom needed information, but couldn’t afford to use police and risk having their own dirty secrets exposed. They were the kind who liked to keep there identity hidden, and that made the case twice as hard. How could you expect to solve a case where your client is keeping you in the dark? The other kind of person who’d call for a P.I. was someone who genuinely needed aid, people who either couldn’t turn to the police, or already had and was dissatisfied with the results.
“Yes, of course” The woman answered, provoking a relieved smile from Danny. “I just wanted to call ahead and make an appointment.”
Danny laughed “Appointments are for doctors and lawyers. I prefer things be kept casual, keep it easy and relaxed.” Danny smiled “Why don’t you stop by this afternoon, and I’ll hear all of your troubles”
There was a pause on the other line. Danny suspected Mrs. Callahan was debating whether she should hang up the phone now, or go through with it. “Yes…That sounds good. I’ll come by around 4. See you then Mr. O’hare.”
Danny made a note, though he trusted he could remember. It wasn’t like he had any other clients to distract him. “See you then Mrs. Callahan” . Hanging up the receiver, Danny leaned back in his chair, smiling wide “We’ll, since I have your attention, I don’t suppose we could do something about this mess, could we?” He joked. As the assorted volumes of sprawled mementos remained unmoving, he supposed that whatever deity or spirit had been seeing to his needs had packed up and moved on.
Three hours later, Danny was looking out the window of his office. The streets below were as gray and unfriendly as the cloud covered skies about. Cars scuttled down the street, reminding him of cockroaches fleeing from the light. He liked the city. The grimy precision to it, like a clockwork sprawl of events, each of which was by itself meaningless and random, yet together formed a unified picture, an unbreakable chain of cause and effect. As he watched, one of the cars, a red sedan with a missing hubcap, separated from the rest, pulling to a stop outside his building.
The woman who stepped out was young, probably no older than 21. She dressed in a baby blue blouse, the pastel tone matching her white skin. Her hair was the color of straw, combed with meticulous care so that it hung down her the sides of her face, hovering just above her shoulders. She had a sort of child like face, he features not yet molded with age, but still innocently charming, even despite the makeup which adorned the canvas of her face.
Danny watched his client, for he could only presume that she was indeed Mrs. Callahan, stepped through the doorway located at street level. He picked up the unmistakable clatter of high heels as she made her way up the staircase. He counted her steps, measuring her approach. When she reached the top of the stairs, she stopped. He herds the unzipping of a purse and some rummaging. Probably checking her make up. A moment passed and she resumed walking. As she reached the door, Danny called “Its not locked, please come in”.
A pause precluded the squeak of hinges, complaining as they pivoted open. Danny turned and smiled warmly at his guest. “How did you know I was…” She asked, her face a little confused and surprised. On her youthful face, it looked exactly like a child trying to figure how the rabbit had been pulled out of a hat. Danny only chuckled “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I was ignorant to my surroundings, now would I?” Mrs. Callahan raised an eyebrow, but then only nodded in agreement. Danny Gestured at the chairs situated in front of his desk “Pleas, take a seat”. As Nancy sat down, Danny caught her gaze drifting around the room, her nose wrinkled in disgust. Obviously she was used to more organized surroundings. “Perhaps you should look into a filing cabinet. There so much stuff in here you could probably hit this place with a lightning strike and start the evolution of life all over again”
Danny laughed, his head thrown back to the ceiling “That could very well be true, but I suggest you refrain from tossing around any thunderbolts. Unless of course life started in a bonfire” he smiled “A few years back, my fan short circuited, set the whole room ablaze. But that’s a story for another time. So unless you came to remark on the state of my office, perhaps we could forget about that and get down to buissiness.”
Nancy returned her attention to Danny, and he could tell right away he wasn’t going to like this case. Nancy had a soft face, her features warm and youthful. But her eyes were like daggers, hard, piercing and dangerous. Whatever had done that to her was not the kind of buissiness he wanted to get involved in. But Nancy came, and it’d be in terrible manners to just turn her away now. So Danny sat at his desk, his feet resting on the piled papers, and listened.
“I have a son” Mrs. Callahan began “His name is Aaron. He’s a good kid; he doesn’t get into mischief or anything like that. Last week he disappeared on the way home from school. I called the police, and they told me that he probably just was off playing with his friends and lost track of time. When he wasn’t home at bedtime, I called them again. They put out a bulletin but nothings come up. I’ve called everyone I could think of, but nobody has herd anything. I asked the officer in charge of my case if there was any way to speed up the case and”
Danny smiled “And of course they said I’d find your boy, no problem, right?”
Nancy smiled “Actually they told me that since you never advertise, you probably wouldn’t be busy and might be able to help. But then, they also told me you were a lazy good for nothing”
Danny shrugged, the insult rolling off him without leaving a mark. “Doesn’t matter, you called me didn’t you?”
“Yes, and I don’t mean to be rude, but I think that perhaps they were right. I’m sorry Mr. O’hare, but I don’t see how you could help” Nancy said, sitting up and walking for the door. Danny didn’t make any move to stop her either. Now, insults from the police were nothing to get his goat. The force was never kind to members who quit, nor to people whom served the law without a badge. So Danny got plenty of trouble from them. But having a potential client call him a useless, right to his face, that was another matter entirely.
“Your not married” Danny called, not even looking at Nancy, staring up at the ceiling. She looked back, that confused expression on her face again, her lips puckered ever so slightly, her eyebrows narrowed “Excuse me?”
Danny shrugged “Your not married. You value how you present your self but don’t subscribe to keeping up with the trends. Id wager that means you work somewhere where you need to be spending time with people, need to make a first impression. I’ll guess desk secretary, that it?” Danny glanced at Nancy, reading her expression “No, I’m mistaken. Something in business though. Not to high up, so lets say middle management, that right? You don’t have too big a paycheck” Danny looked at Nancy again, seeing her gaze averted “Oh, I seem to have hit a nerve. Don’t worry though, times are tough for everyone. And your kid, I suspect he’s adopted.”
Danny sat up and looked at the now speechless face of Nancy. “Mrs. Callahan, I may be a bit untraditional, but I’d be strung up by me bootlaces before I’d let anyone be thinking that I’m not good at what I do.” He gave Nancy a hard glare. Danny was not one to let people upset him, but he had his pride, and wouldn’t let anyone step on it. He than smiled “Now what say we put that aside and move forward with a clean slate, otherwise we wont be doing anything to help your kid now will we?”
Nancy slowly sat back down “How’d you do that?” She stammered. Danny shrugged “Dose it matter? So long as I get the answers” Nancy nodded “I suppose…” She paused, in thought. Danny leaned back and waited.
“Alright Mr. O’hare. You’re hired” Nancy nodded, smiling.
“Call me Danny”
End of Part 1
Part 2: The Players
The room was dark. Four walls, one floor one ceiling. No lights. The apartment was Spartan in nature, only a single room, most of which was occupied by the bed wedged unceremoniously in the corner further from the door. A cockroach flirted across the floor, squirming between scattered clothing and garbage which was gradually consuming the floor. The vermin scampered along the walls, managing to stumble upon the kitchen. There, it was tempted to gorge on the crumbs which lays strewn about, but instead chose to investigate the roach motel which was half hidden under the stove. Minutes later, the bug was dead.
Danny lay in bed, awake yet regretting the fact he was. He felt hung-over, his head was pounding against the inside of his skull, a lunatic attempting to escape its padded cell. He hadn’t been drinking, but was simply not a morning person. It was unfortunate for him then that, regardless if was a morning person or not, the world was not going to sit idle while he lay under his sheets. But he hoped the world would forgive him making use of the snooze button on his alarm clock. It could spare him an extra five minutes.
As he lay there, his thoughts turned to the past and future. Nancy Callahan. She’d hired him to find her missing son. He hadn’t liked the case from the start, but had taken it anyway, partially out of pride, partially out of a sense of duty, mostly out of need for financial gain. He recalled questioning Mrs. Callahan on her child, Aaron, but more on herself. Seemed like a good family, Nancy and her child. They looked out for one another. Good thing they did, since nobody else was likely to. Nancy worked in television, as a receptionist for the channel 5 news. Danny recalled smiling a bit, his original deduction of her carrier, a secretary, not to far off the mark No enemies, nobody with a grudge, not even a disgruntled X-boyfriend. Which left Danny in a rough spot, since he had no leads. Probably why the police hadn’t made any luck with the case. Her kid Aaron was just as spotless. Smart kid, did his homework, followed the rules. Not the kind of kid to go talking to strangers.
Danny pondered the situation. If it was just a random kidnapping, then he didn’t have many places to start looking. He could start asking questions, maybe call in a few favors, but that would likely get him nowhere. Plus, a single random kidnapping was unusual. People who grabbed children off the street usually won’t stop with just one. He could check in with the district police, get their info on the case. There was a slim, but not impossible, chance that there were other kids who’d been snatched up, and the news hadn’t put the word out. He needed information, options, and leads. Something to point him on a trail. That much was certain.
As the alarm clock informed him that his five minutes were up, Danny rolled himself out of bed. Dressing himself in whatever clothing happened to find its way into his hand, he was now clad in a bleached white shirt with three missing buttons which had been lodged under a pizza box, yet miraculously emerged unstained. Over this he added a dusty leather jacket, which he gave a half hearted attempt at cleaning off, though it made little difference. Finding a pair of well worn jeans laying on his bedpost, Danny slid his legs into them, seeing his knee trough the small holes torn into the denim on one side. He checked his pockets, hoping for some loose change, hands brushing the frayed beltloop as they fumbled groggily, but in the end finding only a packet of gum.
Danny flicked on the TV, the screen coming to life, revealing the happenings in the world. He listened to the newscast as his hands busied themselves with breakfast. Oatmeal was not what he would have preferred, but it was quick to make and filled him enough to last till lunch, so that was his breakfast of choice. On screen, they were replaying the president’s Inaugural address from the previous afternoon. Danny didn’t care much for Nixon. The guy struck him as paranoid, manipulative. Nobody else seemed to think so. That or everyone hated the guy, and someone had miscounted the ballots. Either way, he saw it as proof that his country was going downhill fast.
Breakfast in his belly, Danny headed out of his apartment. It was still early, the first beams of sunlight only now filtering down through the monolithic towers of the city. The cab drivers were out, along with a few early commuters, but besides them, the roads were empty. Danny walked down the sidewalk, gas currently being to big an expense to stress his already overstretched budget with. He didn’t mind though. Danny liked to walk, it gave him time to think, where as dodging traffic would require his full attention. He considered his case again. Aaron Callahan had been kidnapped eight days prior. For reasons unknown, he’d never made it home from school. There was nothing to suggest he’d simply run away either. As Danny walked, he took each little factoid and hunch, weighing hem up against his own instincts and experience, turning the pieces over. Like any puzzle, all it took was looking at things from the right angle. But in the time it took for him to walk the eighteen blocks from his apartment complex to the police station, the correct angle eluded him.
The entrance hall to the police station was just as empty as the streets. The arrow hallway was flanked on either side by long wooden benches. Occasionally there’d be scratched in name, graffiti records of the people who’d sat on the uncomfortable hardwood, nervously trying to pass the time as they wait for processing to finish. Danny could see the ghosts of a past life, when he’d stood under the florescent tubes, their cool impassive light shining of his polished badge. Nostalgia was not a luxury that Danny liked to indulge, and he hurried down the blue tiled floors towards the reception desk.
The officer seated at the front desk was one that Danny recognized, and the one he wanted to see. He was a large man, built like a barrel, thick and round. His features were plump, his cheeks puffing outwards with each breath. His nose was wide set and looked squished into his face, almost as if he’d been hit with a shovel and never fully recovered. Behind the thick rimmed glasses perched on his face were his brown eyes, which dutifully were directed downwards at the files currently holding his attention. Out of all his features, Danny found his hands the most indulging. His fingers were like wet sausages, rubbery and stuffed. Yet they nimbly moved with a coordinated grace that almost made it seem like they were mercurial, each piece independent of the rest yet synchronized as a whole. It was like watching a sumo wrestler dance ballet.
“What you got for me Mac?” Danny asked, leaning his elbow onto the desk. The officer jumped, his sausage fingers sent flailing as their choreography found itself interrupted. “Jeasus Christ Danny, Don’t do that! You want to give me a heart attack!?” He whined, his voice like bubbling soup in the way it slid out of his mouth.
Danny only laughed, finding the outburst both amusing and gratifying. “Relax Mac, or you’ll be giving yourself a heart attack without any help from me. I got a case and I’m looking for some information”
Mac grumbled something under his breath, giving Danny an annoyed glance, but one which laked any fierceness or anger. He disappeared behind the polished wood, ducking under the desk to reach his scattered papers, his swivel chair groaning in displeasure at the strain of his shifting weight. As he returned to his paperwork, having retrieved the dropped files, the ballet performers regained their composure and began starting up there dance on the downbeat. Not missing a step as he did, Mac returned his gaze to Danny “You know I get flak from the department every time I give you private access to case files.” his brown eyes were like a puppy’s, pleading to leave him be, but knowing full well that Danny would likely press the issue.
“Mac Me Boy, Tell me, have I’ve ever done anything to merit your distrust? We went to the academy together we did. Now maybe the rest of the boys in blue don’t appreciate your assistance, but I sure as hell do.” Danny could see Mac’s resolve waver, but it didn’t crack yet.
“I’m sorry Danny, but things are busy here. We’ve been flooded with reports lately, ever since that Red Light Killer showed up.” Danny recalled reading in the paper about a series of murdered prostitutes turning up in dumpsters. If he remembered correctly, there were at least three in the last month alone. The media was calling the perpetrator the Red Light Killer.
“Fine Mac, you don’t have to tell me anything. Just be a pal and listen. Aaron Callahan kidnapped a week ago. Ringing any bells?” Danny looked at Mac, whom was nodding slightly. Mac was a great guy, but a terrible card player. He might as well broadcast his thoughts to anyone within ear shot, as you could just as easily read them off his expression. “Anyhow, I need some leads. Kids don’t just disappear on their own now do they? Somebody must know something.”
Danny leaned over to Mac, close enough he could smell the coffee on the portly officer’s breath. “So here’s what you’re going to do for me. You’re going to sit there and be thinking to yourself if you really can take the guilt, knowing there be a lost little boy out there, and that you, Mac, you are the person holding the information which could speed up getting this wee boy back to his loving mom. And then your going to realize that maybe there isn’t any harm in giving me a little hint, just enough to put me on the right trail. And then, Mac, you’re going to say…?”
Mac looked up at Danny, whom met his gaze and held his expression locked in a friendly grin. Mac quickly looked away, clearly feeling pressed into a corner. Danny just continued smiling, watching Mac continue to wrestle with himself, knowing full well that he was going to lose this confrontation. At last he mumbled “Well, there is this guy we’re keeping over night…”
Danny grinned. Now there were getting somewhere, just a little more and he’d get what he needed “Ya, what about him?”
“Its probably nothing but” Whatever Mac might have said was cut of as his gaze averted to something behind Danny, at around the same time that the private eye felt a hand clap down on his shoulder “Danny, Do we have to go through this again?” Came the stern voice from behind. Danny turned to face the voices owner, Captain Thomas Jackson. The man was getting up there in years, his carefully combed mustache turned ashen gray. Danny could see the hairline on his furrowed brow already receding back, perhaps intimidated by the perpetual glare his steely eyes seemed to possess. It had been a long time since such a veteran officer had seen the front lines, yet he still had the presence of a linebacker, his square set shoulders and rugged frame only just managing to squeeze into his uniform. Danny looked Captain Jackson over, noting he imperial like gaze he held, the authority he enforced on whatever he surveyed . Old age might win in the long run, but here was a man who was clearly giving it a run for its money.
“Jack, hay, good to be seeing ya. How’s Junior keeping?” Danny knew that Jackson’s eldest boy, Thomas Jackson Jr., was the captains pride and joy. And in this case, Danny’s diversion and possible escape from a longwinded lecture on the proper channels for acquiring information related to a case.
“Don’t change the subject Danny. You’re not an officer any more, which means you cant just waltz about and do as you please. Its disruptive to the entire precinct! Why, if everyone had your attitude towards the law then- ”
“Then your cases would get solved twice as fast with half the manpower” Danny interjected, beginning to let his feet edge around the captain, whom was currently blocking Danny’s path to the exit.
“Blast it Danny! Your recklessness causes twice as many problems as it solves” Jackson was really getting worked up, his wrinkled face looking like an over ripened tomato. Danny only gave a dismissive shrug “Now we both know that’s an exaggeration, or at the very least a gross misinterpretation of events” knowing as he did from experience, once the Captain got started, there was no earthly force that could stop him till he ran his course. Better to just endure his preaching and be done with it.
“Exaggeration! What about last month when you destroyed hundreds of thousands of dollars of artwork and put two men in the hospital?! Is that an Exaggeration?!”
Danny smiled a little, recalling back to his previous case. Several valuable paintings had been stolen from a private collection. It took Danny a week and a half to track the art down, and when he found the thief, he jumped in his car and fled. Danny managed to shoot out one of the guys tires before he’d gotten too far, causing him to swerve out of control. He struck another car and drove it off the road, before finally spinning out and crashing into a hotdog stand. Somehow, in all this, the car engine caught fire. This might not have been such a problem, had the artwork in question not been in the trunk of the getaway car. He was not paid, needless to say, for returning the fire damaged artwork.
“Look, Captain, here’s the thing, I be on a case and be needing information. I know you’re going to want to be getting back to running things around here, So I’ll just be”
“Oh no you don’t Danny, I’m not done with-” It was at this time that Danny, in a final bid to regain the initiative, did the unexpected. Taking the stick of gum from his pocket, he quickly shook Jackson’s hand, depositing the sugary treat in the mans wrinkled palm “Here, do be enjoying this” Before dashing out of the police department before the veteran officer could gather what had just happened.
Back outside, and none the wiser, Danny set off again down the boulevard, working his way through the other pedestrians as he did. The streets were not so empty now, as the working members of society ventured out of their homes, leaving the once dry riverbed of the streets now a steady stream of people coming and going. He listened to the snippets of conversation that he could gleam from those he passed. Mozart and Beethoven were nothing next to the subtle limericks and melodies of the street. It had feeling and voice, the percussion of sole on sidewalk accentuated by the countermelody of rubber tire grinding along the roadways. The song was ever new and changing, and it provided a backdrop to Danny’s on thoughts.
Mac had mentioned a guy they had in holding. Could be a lead, but at the same time, could be nothing. Captain Jackson wasn’t about to let Danny sneak back in anytime soon. As he stood waiting for the crosswalk light to change, in the mass of bodies which clustered against the dge, waiting to hurry on their way, it occurred to him he had one other place he could visit. One contact who was always glad to see him.
Forty five minutes of walking through the increasingly congested city passed by without note. Sometimes Danny would be carried by the flow of people, sometimes he’d have to muscle through it. The tributary’s far removed from the main stream is what Danny followed, carrying him to his destination. The familiar White Washed compound walls shined like mirrors in the early morning sun. He was fairly confident having blindingly bright paint was some kind of traffic hazard, but had never been able to prove anything. Walking through the wrought iron gates and down the garden lined pathway onto the main building, Danny stopped by the front desk to grab his visitors pass, vaguely recognizing the crone like woman perched behind the desk, eyeing him like he carried the plague. But Danny only smiled, even thanking the hag when she finished looking over the sign in sheet and handed him his visitor badge.
His feet seemed following their own path, trained though practice to the point where they no longer needed Danny’s guidance. First the took him to the stairwell and up three floors, dodging the buildings staff as he went. Twelve paces out of the stairwell, right turn. Thirty seven paces down the hallways, past the vending machine and then a second right turn. Fourth room on the left hand side, immediately opposite the plastic flowers arranged in the tacky vase left on the window frame.
The door was unlocked, which wasn’t surprising, as Danny had never once found it to be otherwise. Letting himself in, Danny smelt the wafting ordure of a cigar being smoked. The room inside was pampered and clean, the tile floor bare of so much as a speck of dust, polished to the point that the gleam of lights could induce vertigo in those not used to such a stark brightness. The main entrance lead to the living area, two easy chairs left sitting, angled towards the television resting on top of a mahogany dresser, the receiving antenna bent at sporadic angles making it look more like a work of art than a functioning device, its screen black and vacant. Placed carefully between the two moth eaten chairs was a small end table, upon which the queen stood ready to take the opposing rook, the two colored battlefield paused in mid confrontation. Through an open archway on the left, there was an adequate kitchen and dining area. Judging from the cleanliness of the room, the chambers resident seldom ventured there.
The room was occupied by an elderly gentleman; his back hunched as if bearing a great weight, the white robe draped over his shoulders too big a burden for such a skeletal figure to bear. His skin was like paper, crumpled up and left in some long forgotten crevice that had only now found its way back out and rejoined the rest of him. Upon his head were a few lingering hairs, their colors long since having abandoned them. But his face, despite the great crevasses which seemed to permeate out of every pour to ensnare his visage, was held in a boyish grin, his soft eyes twinkling, holding the glee of an early Christmas. In one clawed and he gripped a smoldering cigar, clutching the rolled tobacco so tightly that it was a wonder his fingers could still move at all.
“Daniel! Good to see you again! Please, Please, come in, Sit, Relax” He exclaimed, his voice a rasping shutter caught in the breeze. He half chuckled, half coughed as he hobbled over to the two sitting chairs, gesturing for Danny to follow.
“How you been keeping old man? Still fighting off the reaper with tooth and nail I see” Danny teased, accepting the offer to sit and relax, seating himself at the western flank of the chessboard while his host took the eastern.
Letting out a choked cackle, the gentleman nodded “Keep teasing me if you like, but it wont be so damn funny when you’re the one coughing up a lung every time you get out of bed.”
Danny shrugged “Pat, we both know you’ll outlive us all in the end. You’re to stubborn to die you are.” Danny seized one of his pawns, shifting it forward. “Be sure not to dance too hard on my grave. I don’t want you throwing out your hip.”
Pat gazed at the board a moment before sliding his queen accost, laying low Danny’s last rook, the first one lost in a minor skirmish two weeks prior. “So Daniel, how’s things in your life? Still clinging to the grimy underbelly of society?” Danny smirked a little “Been good actually. Got myself a case I did. Missing kid.” He let the pride show on his face, matched by an equal dismay on Pats. Danny held his hand out “Give it up”
Solemnly, Pat deposited his cigar in Danny’s awaiting hand. Rubbing out the embers, he tossed the burnt paper tube into the garbage where it landed with a satisfying thud. Pat only grumbled “Why on earth I agreed to stop smoking whenever you get a case is beyond me”
“If I recall, it was the time I snuck you a bottle of Gin” Danny answered, his knight leaping through two pawns locked in melee, catching the bishop unprepared for assault without the guarding presence of the queen. He showed no mercy in dispatching the priest. “So don’t complain.”
“I’m not complaining, I’m just surprised you actually managed to find someone crazy enough to hire you” Pat’s bony hand tapped the kings crown, debating his next move. “So, get any leads yet?”
Danny sighed, leaning back in his chair. “We’ll, I have managed to narrow down my list of suspects.” He admitted.
“That so?” Pat muttered, issuing his command for his own rook to advance three clicks northward, baiting Danny’s own queen into abandoning her defenses for a sudden attack. Danny nodded “Yup. At this point in the investigation, I’m confident the kidnapper is alive, between the age’s of 20 and 80, and probably lives in the northern hemisphere.”
Pat gave another wheezing chuckle “You figure that out all by yourself?” He gave a sad attempt at a shrug, the effort clearly draining. Danny only laughed “The chase is only just getting started, don’t be expecting me to have it all figured out yet.”
“I don’t expect you to figure it out ever, but that’s never stopped you before either.” Pat smirked a little.
The conversation was on hold for a time as the war between them intensified. Danny shifted one of his pawns to guard his queen against Pat’s rook, only to be side struck when Pat used his remaining bishop to slaughter through Danny’s eastern flank, his ground troops there not standing a chance. Danny regretted their sacrifice, watching on sadly as he allowed one after another to fall as he continued to move a single pawn towards the enemy lines. When Pat brought his queen around to block Danny’s agent, Danny responded with an unexpected gambit, his bishop swooping across the battlefield as if born on the wings of angels, his righteous blade impaling the empress where she stood. Pat got his revenge by catching Danny’s only remaining knight off guard, struck down by a pawn. A pitiful way for such a proud warrior to go down.
The conflict took its toll on Pat, his energetic smile now looking tired, strain clear on his face. This wasn’t unusual; Danny knew that his age was a burden which Pat needed to devote most of his strength to fight off. By comparison, his skirmishes with Danny were trifling simple. “We’ll I suppose I ought to be going” Danny smiled, moving his pawn forward, into the enemy stronghold, where he was reborn as a rook.
Pat smiled “Can’t keep up with me eh? We’ll be sure to stop by again soon. Doctors are no company at all, always pressing me with pills, or sticking so many needles in me I feel like a pin cushion. Bah! I’m more likely to die of bordom than anything else” Danny shrugged, for a moment looking at Pat’s decaying form with sad eyes, but only for a moment before smirking “I’ll be around, don’t you be worrying about that” He promised, giving his old friend a pat on the back “Be seeing ya Pat”
On his way out, Danny dropped by the main desk to sign out and turn in his visitor badge. The crone was still there, still turning her nose up at Danny. But he ignored her. He found the correct clipboard. Alzheimer’s ward; Name of Patient you are visiting: Patrick O’Hare.
Leaving behind what was left of the man who had been his father, Danny passed under the iron gates, his eyes firmly gazing forward to face the city. He may have not gotten any information from his Dad, but he did find some resolve. His father was old and had little life left to live. Aaron was young and had plenty of years left before him, something which was in danger of being taken away.
“I’ll find ya kid” Danny murmured to himself. “I’ll find Ya”
End of Part 2
Part 3: The Pride
For an hour and a half, Danny walked the streets, his eyes scanning constantly, searching for the clue he knew must be there. Flanked by monolithic towers, man made mountains which encroached on heavens domain, the spires looming down at him, laughing at an ant who fancied himself a detective. It’d been four days since Nancy had came to Danny with her plea for aid. Four days of dead end leads, four days of fruitless inquiry. Nobody knew anything. It was like the kid didn’t even exist.
He’d walked this rout, the six blocks between Aaron’s school and his home, hoping to replay the boy’s last moments before being snatched off the face of the earth. People don’t just disappear. They left their mark wherever they went. There had to be something. There had to be.
The stench of rotting garbage invaded Danny’s nose. Trash which had been sitting there, festering in obscurity. Garbage crews were on strike, and the whole city smelt like rot. Thankfully the weather was cool; else the reek of decomposition would have choked everyone to death.
He’d lost track of how many times he’d paced up and down the street, trying to get time to turn itself back, grant him a glimpse of what had been. But no matter how hard he forced himself to look, he was just chasing specters through a fog. What was he missing? There had to be some vital piece, some junction, something to point him in the right direction.
A black cat ran in front of Danny, dating out of an ally way. Just what he needed. Bad luck on top of all his other problems. The stray was skeletal and disheveled. Times were tough, even for a cat. Unlike Danny, the cat had managed to find what it was looking for, as evident by the scrap of meat in its fangs. Danny suddenly felt as if his innards were being squeezed by an icy giant. It wasn’t a scrap of meat. It was an index finger.
The stench in the ally was ten times worse as the reeking fumes Danny’s encountered on the street. He felt as if it was physically assaulting him, pushing him back. Fighting upstream, through the cascading decay, Danny located a rusted dumpster, secluded from sight. Inside, amidst the rats and vermin, half buried under discarded rubbish, was a young girl.
In life, she’d probably been beautiful. Now she was a monster. Her skin as ripped and torn, meaty chunks sliced open, sinew cut from bone. Her bare breast was torn and bruised, a bespeckled patchwork of abrasions. Her death had not been quick. Danny felt ill, and it had nothing to do with the putrid aroma. He had been desperate for a clue, begging for a hint, some scrap of proof to guide him. In hindsight, should have been more specific.
Half an hour, and one phone call later, the crime scene was an overturned anthill of investigators and forensics, practically climbing on top of one another as they combed the site. Danny sat on the sidelines, watching the scrambling officers. Out of the mess appeared Captain Jackson, sweat collected in the strained wrinkles of his face. Another dead prostitute had turned up in his district. The fourth one this month.
“Danny, get that god awful grin off your face” the Captain grumbled, stepping towards Danny, his hands knotted into fists. Danny kept his satisfied smirk. While Danny regretted the circumstances, he still couldn’t help but feel at least a sliver of pride at having beaten the investigation team to the punch line.
“How long she been laying their Jack?” Danny inquired, snatching a cup of coffee from a passing officer with a tray in hand. He took a sip and grimaced, no cream, no sugar. Awful. He offered the cup to the captain, who glared. Danny took this as a no.
“Early estimate? Looks to be around a week. I know what your thinking, but just drop it Danny”
“I would If I could, but that’s not how I work, you ought be realizing that by now. So this body turned up here around the same time that the Callahan boy vanished? Could be connected” Danny sipped the poor excuse for coffee again, hoping perhaps it might grow on him. It didn’t.
“Could be a lot of things Danny. Where is the evidence? Far as we can tell after the Killer is done with the bodies he dumps them at random. With the Garbage strike, nobody found this one. Simple as that. The fact your missing kid disappeared along this road is just coincidence, plain and simple”
Danny gave a little laugh “Coincidence? Hell Jackson, your getting old. You know as well as I do that coincidences like this don’t just happen. There’s a reason. There is always a reason. Now as I see it, maybe..”
“Drop it Danny” The captain stated, the weight of authority on his voice.
“… Maybe Callahan saw something he shouldn’t. Maybe the boy saw the body being dumped and the killer needed to make him disappear before he told anyone. It fits”
“Danny, you’ve got an awful lot of maybes and no evidence to back them up with. And your theory is full of wholes. What kind of killer would dump the body in the middle of the afternoon?”
Danny shrugged “Cant say. But there is a connection” He tossed the coffie cup, now thoroughly disgusted with it. “Be seeing you Captain, say hi to Junior for me”
The senior officer pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh before looking at Danny “Keep sticking your nose in places it doesn’t belong and you’ll end up getting it cut off one of these days”
Danny smirked “Maybe, but not today”
Danny spent the better part of the day looking into the Red Light Killer case, digging through the piles of news papers he’d collected in his office, getting background information, trying to find the connection he knew had to exist. Unfortunately, the papers we’re of little aid. They we’re playing down the incidents, trying to avoid causing unnecessary fear. As he read, Danny began to get the sense that he had forgotten something. Not just his rent, he was quite sure that he’d forgotten that. This was the feeling that there was some piece he’d overlooked. He read through the articles again. Series of murders, prostitutes in dumpsters, cut to ribbons, police unable to turn up any clues. What was he missing?
His thoughts were interrupted by a pounding on his door. Last thing he wanted to deal with right now was his landlady. He needed to concentrate “Listen you Banshee! I’ll have the rent by the end of the week so go darken someone else’s doorstep!”
In the following second, there was silence, followed by the awful sound of an oak door being ripped from its hinges. Danny only had time to turn and catch a glimpse of what had a shocking resemblance to a humanoid freight train coming at him before being tackled by the assailant. He felt the wind get knocked out of him as he was plowed back through his office, striking the wall opposite with enough force that Danny was confident he’d just cracked a rib.
Danny’s head seemed to be moving at a snails pace. He was still trying to cope with the fact he’d have to buy a new door, rather than the thumping sound he was hearing was being caused by the repeated blows to the face he was receiving. It occurred to him that, while he was not the easiest guy to get along with, he was fairly confident that he hadn’t done anything lately to piss off a person who resembled a shaved gorilla in a bad overcoat. It was at this point that Danny also noticed his nose was broken as well, and he came to the conclusion that he should probably do something about that.
Danny brought his knee into the gorilla-man’s crotch, enjoying the howl that this action provoked, and the pause in the pounding of his face, something Danny greatly appreciated. Danny kept his momentum going, swinging his fist round, right at the guy’s throat. The thump of fist on flesh reverberated down Danny’s arm. Out of the mass of muscles Shot an arm and grabbed Danny around the back of his head. Danny was aware that suddenly his feet were no longer on the ground. This was followed a moment later by Danny being thrown back through his office, hitting the wall next to where once had been his door. His vision swam and he felt his grip on conscious slip.
A sound rather like Razorblades going through a blender reverberated out of the walking vat of testosterone. Danny’s impaired cognitive function’s discerned that this might be some manner of laugh. The guy cracked his knuckles with all the slow, relaxed motion of a predator watching the weakling of the heard, knowing full well that its already won.
Fortunately, Danny was neither a gazelle, nor about to give up. He managed to climb back to his feet, even bringing his fists up, whipping the blood from his face. The Gorilla man only laughed again, taunting Danny to come and get him. Danny smiled, and flipped the switch on the wall next to him. The ceiling fan above the brawlers erupted in a shower of sparks, its faulty wiring giving birth to dozens of tiny embers which now rained down on the suddenly very much surprised gorilla man. Danny felt his limbs spring to life, good old fight-or-flight tuning into the former. Danny grabbed the lamp he kept in the corner of his office and gave a beastly cry as he flung it through the air. It crashed into his attackers face, the ceramic body shattering into a multitude of tiny blades. Blades which sliced through skin with ease, causing the brute to stagger, momentarily blinded. Without this singular light source, the Office was suddenly thrown in shadow, the gloom broken only by the fires which were beginning to break out on the newspapers which lay scattered on the floor. Through the multitude of scratches and blood, Danny could see the rage on his attackers face as he recovered. To bad that Danny was faster, and brought the butt of his pistol down onto the mans temple. It may not have been how David would have done it, but this Goliath still crumpled like a pile of leaves, eyes rolling back in his head as unconsciousness took its hold..
Danny stood there a second, Panting hard. Half a dozen thoughts we’re competing for his attention. Someone had sent a hit man after him. He really should buy some bullets. His ceiling fan was still shooting of sparks like the forth of July. Who’d want him dead? and lastly that his office was on fire. The latter managed to wrestle free of the rest, prompting Danny to action. He quickly smothered the embers with a liberal amount of foot stomping and cursing. As the last glow of the flames died out, Danny flicked the switch and killed the power to the fan. Danny looked at his office. It occurred to him that, aside from the unconscious brute and the burn newspapers scattered about, his office was really no more a mess than normal. He wasn’t sure if that was irony or not, but it made him smirk either way.
Danny felt tired. His body ached, and his head was killing, but he still managed to roll the thug over. Digging through the guys coat pockets, Danny found a wad of cash, which he promptly placed in his own pocket. Following this, he discovered some ID, a used movie ticket, and a scrap of paper with two addresses on it. One of which was for a apartment complex on the eastside of town, the other was Danny’s office.
Here was a lead. Someone knew Danny was investigating this case, and someone wanted to stop him. The problem was that to few people knew about his involvement. The list was narrow enough that whoever had ordered his execution was probably someone Danny had talked to in the past few days. And the first address on this piece of paper was Danny’s trail. Hopefully at the end he’d have some answers.
Danny rummaged through the papers of his desk till he uncovered his phone. Punching in the digits, Danny waited impatiently for the other end to answer.
“Hello this is…” Came a dribble, simpering little voice.
“Mac, it’s Danny” Danny answered.
“Oh god Danny, what did you do?” Mac almost sobbed. Danny had a bad habit of only calling Mac after there had been an incident, usually one in which police involvement was required. Danny smirked a little, but his broken nose prevented him from enjoying the action to much.
“Mac, just listen to me. A guy just burst into my office and tried to kill me” Danny answered,
trying to keep calm. He didn’t want to give Mac a heart attack. There was a pause, then “Danny, you serious?”
Danny sighed. He really didn’t have time for this “Ya Mac, now listen, I overpowered the guy and he’s unconscious. I got an address from his pockets and I’m going to follow it. Send over someone to pick this guy up.”
“Er…Danny…Ya, I’ll do that. You, er…want some back up?” Mac offered slowly, seeming to have a difficult time keeping pace with Danny’s thought process.
Danny considered. The less people who knew, the better. At the same time, he didn’t want to go in over his head without something to fall back on. “Ya…Wait a half hour, and then call it in.”
Danny hung up without waiting for a reply. He trusted Mac enough to get the job done. After locating some rope and binding Mr. Gorilla’s limbs, Danny grabbed his coat, some painkillers, and his keys. On the way out he didn’t even notice his landlady standing at the door.
Danny’s car was a beast. A creature hauled up from the pits of hell itself. It’s paint was gone, unwilling to cling to such a decadent blight. With a gurgling yelp it sputtered, an ogre’s disgruntled roar at having its solitude disturbed. It was a car that was best left forgotten on some ulcer of the planet where it would not be seen by the eyes of men. But through a mix of stubborn willpower, and blatant disregard for proper safety regulations, Danny had managed to keep it going. It was in this vehicle which Danny now lurched, bucked, and finally sped down the streets, preparing to strike the heart of the case, ready for answers.
End of Part 3
Part 1: The Pledge
Danny leaned against his desk, breathing just as softly as he could, his hands gripping the warn plastic grip of his weapon, a .45 Colt. The handgun was empty, but it gave him a bit of a psychological boost. Worst come to worst he might be able to bluff his way out of a corner. But that seemed unlikely. The door to his office was locked tight, but with the way that it was being pounded on, it might not matter much. The dull thump of flesh meeting oak reverberated through the office. With each blow, the door frame shuddered. Danny didn’t think it would hold. He said a silent prayer, on the off chance that any higher power might hear him and see fit to step in and lend him a hand. He never had bought in to the heroin of the masses, but there was no such thing as an atheist in a fox hole.
Minutes passed before the assault on his door subsided with a rather disturbing abruptness. Danny held his breath, knowing that it was quite likely that his nemesis was still lurking just outside the chamber entrance, listening for any sign of activity. From experience, Danny knew he could keep from breathing for 90 seconds. If he could hold out longer than the attackers patience, he might have a chance. His heartbeat served as his clock, each beat counting down the time left. 80, 79, 78…No footsteps, they were still there. His pulse quickened. 65, 64, 63…He mentally chanted a mantra, as if he could simply will the aggressor to leave. 41, 40, 39…His lungs began to ache, the pulse in his ears now a drum roll that reverberated through his skull. 20, 19, 18…still nothing. His eyes watered and he felt dizzy. 10, 9,8…need to breath…7,6,5…just hold out a little more…4,3,2…his willpower was spent. Success! The clatter of tennis shoe on wood flooring had never before been so appealing. He took a handful of deep breaths, the rush of air tasting as sweet as a cool glass of lemonade. Thus, having successfully dodged paying his rent, Danny gave a little nod of thanks, because while he didn’t put any value in higher spiritual beings, he figured there was no harm in hedging his bets and getting on their good side, in case he was mistaken.
Kicking his feet up onto the desk, knocking over one of the piles of accumulated debris, Danny reclined in his chair and surveyed his domain. His desk was an odd combination of papers, office supplies, moldy remains of snacks left half finished, lottery tickets and post-it notes with spider web like hand scrawled memo’s, indecipherable to the untrained eye. Out of various nooks and crevices he’d catch an occasional glimpse of a forgotten knick knack, or if he was lucky, a few dollar bills. But like the shifting sands of the Sahara, such artifacts were not exposed long before being buried once again. The rest of his office was in a similar state of disarray, with stacks of papers three feet tall, monoliths of stored information which was almost entirely obsolete, yet kept on the off chance that one day some of it might come in handy. There were three other chairs, two of which sat on the opposite side of the desk, the remaining one perched in the corner and currently occupied by the only lamp in the place. Behind his desk was two large windows, but between the drawn shades and dust accumulated on the glasses surface, only the most stalwart and determined ray of sunshine stood a chance of penetrating Danny’s sanctum.
Danny had no love for the level of disarray in his office. Frankly, it disgusted him. But while the chaotically sprawled masses bothered him, he had already accepted that like a house of cards, each mound of refuge was interconnected dependent on the rest for stability and support. To even begin organizing would require breaking apart that carefully ingrained support and result in the entire conglomerate tumbling to pieces. Should that happen, Danny would likely be unable to make any substantial renovations without the aid of the city healthy board, a professional contractor, and a small army of cheep labor. Lives would be lost, untouchably. Best to simply let the sleeping dragon stay slumbering.
Perhaps the only item which displayed immunity to the rampant filth which had claimed the rest of the office was the picture frame Danny had placed atop a mound of old newspapers in the corner. It was on this photograph his eyes had currently fallen. The picture was clearly dated, its edges frayed and torn, one corner burnt slightly. But the majority of the image was still recognizable. It showed a family of three, all of them smiling as they stood gathered together on the edge of a pier, waves crashing against the rocky outcropping. Danny smiled a little, looking at the image. It was one of the few he had in which both he and his parents were smiling. He studied his fathers face, reading the features like he would a work of art. The man possessed a square jaw and cooked nose, both of which were half obscured by the mange of tangled beard. His eyes were deep set, as if locked in a perpetual glare, two molten green orbs suspended in shadow. It was only though trained practice that he could see the subtle elevation of cheekbones and softening of the otherwise granite like features which alerted Danny to the fact that this bear of a man was indeed grinning. On of his fathers great knotted arms was claped around his wife. Danny never understood how he didn’t accidentally snap her in half. His mother was small and sprite like, her limbs lean and narrow, her features sharply angular. Never a tall woman, she looked especially tiny when compared to his father. Her eyes were just as green as his fathers were, but her’s were soft and cool, great pools of emerald which instilled a sense of quietness. Her head was tilted back, laughing to the heavens, her scarlet hair tumbling back down her shoulders. Even now, Danny could hear the lingering echo’s of her laughter, a chirping burst of light which called like a siren song to those who listened, inviting them to join her.
The last person in the group was Danny himself. He was only half his current age in the image, but you could still see that he took more after his mother. His face was sharp and narrow, with wide eyes and an eager smile. He had straight red hair, cut short and spiky. He was rather gangly looking, his boney limbs sticking awkwardly out of a jacket which was clearly to large for him. Not much had changed since then, except now at least his clothing fit properly, and he’d managed to ad just the slightest tone of muscle to his otherwise stick like frame. His hair was still a quill like bluster of red, tuffs of hair poking out sporadically from the mass. His eyes had recessed a little, though he rather liked how they made him seem just a tad mysterious.
Danny reemerged from memory lane, staring at the inert ceiling fan, reminding himself that he needed to buy a new motor for it. Not that he could, for the same reason he couldn’t pay his rent or get bullets for his gun. In his line of work, there were often long lulls between paychecks, and no matter how he applied himself, this was not a situation which he could change. Unlike any other profession, being a private detective was by its own nature, a reactionary one. It was not as if he could just go out and begin questioning passerbies. Need someone to tell you if your wife is cheating on you? Do you suspect your boss is hoarding profits to spend at the dog races? You sir! Is your son selling alcohol behind your back? No, unlike other professions, he simply had to sit and wait till someone came forth in need of his services.
“Perhaps, if your not to busy, you could throw me a bone, eh?” Danny asked the ceiling, hoping that if some higher power ha indeed spared him the wrath of his landlady earlier, it could manage to spare him a client. “Nothing to fancy, just a simple case to crack”. Of course, the world was not a place where one could simply get anything they wanted just by asking. If that were indeed the case, Danny’s office would be cleaned, his lottery tickets winning and his landlady less pugnacious in her assaults on his poor defenseless deadbolt lock. Oh, and all the good stuff you promis at a miss America contest, world peace, feeding the homeless, that stuff. Simply put, that doesn’t happen.
Which only made it all the more surprising when his phone rang. Danny casually knocked over one of the pillars of garbage, unearthing the telephone. The disturbed pile proceeded to tumble off the desk and onto another pile which had accumulated on the floor. Picking the receiver he silenced the synthetic buzzing and placed the phone to his ear.
“Shamrock 7, private investigation service. Danny O’hare speaking, What might I do for you today?” Danny said casually.
“Mr. O’Hare? My name is Nancy Callahan, I need your help” the woman’s voice answered. Danny guessed American, mid 20’s, probably on the short side.
“Much as I’d like to help you, I prefer to talk to my clients in person.” Danny remarked. He’d learned that people whom didn’t show up in person weren’t the kind of people he wanted to do business with. In his experience, only two kinds of people used private investigators. Either paranoid upper crust executives whom needed information, but couldn’t afford to use police and risk having their own dirty secrets exposed. They were the kind who liked to keep there identity hidden, and that made the case twice as hard. How could you expect to solve a case where your client is keeping you in the dark? The other kind of person who’d call for a P.I. was someone who genuinely needed aid, people who either couldn’t turn to the police, or already had and was dissatisfied with the results.
“Yes, of course” The woman answered, provoking a relieved smile from Danny. “I just wanted to call ahead and make an appointment.”
Danny laughed “Appointments are for doctors and lawyers. I prefer things be kept casual, keep it easy and relaxed.” Danny smiled “Why don’t you stop by this afternoon, and I’ll hear all of your troubles”
There was a pause on the other line. Danny suspected Mrs. Callahan was debating whether she should hang up the phone now, or go through with it. “Yes…That sounds good. I’ll come by around 4. See you then Mr. O’hare.”
Danny made a note, though he trusted he could remember. It wasn’t like he had any other clients to distract him. “See you then Mrs. Callahan” . Hanging up the receiver, Danny leaned back in his chair, smiling wide “We’ll, since I have your attention, I don’t suppose we could do something about this mess, could we?” He joked. As the assorted volumes of sprawled mementos remained unmoving, he supposed that whatever deity or spirit had been seeing to his needs had packed up and moved on.
Three hours later, Danny was looking out the window of his office. The streets below were as gray and unfriendly as the cloud covered skies about. Cars scuttled down the street, reminding him of cockroaches fleeing from the light. He liked the city. The grimy precision to it, like a clockwork sprawl of events, each of which was by itself meaningless and random, yet together formed a unified picture, an unbreakable chain of cause and effect. As he watched, one of the cars, a red sedan with a missing hubcap, separated from the rest, pulling to a stop outside his building.
The woman who stepped out was young, probably no older than 21. She dressed in a baby blue blouse, the pastel tone matching her white skin. Her hair was the color of straw, combed with meticulous care so that it hung down her the sides of her face, hovering just above her shoulders. She had a sort of child like face, he features not yet molded with age, but still innocently charming, even despite the makeup which adorned the canvas of her face.
Danny watched his client, for he could only presume that she was indeed Mrs. Callahan, stepped through the doorway located at street level. He picked up the unmistakable clatter of high heels as she made her way up the staircase. He counted her steps, measuring her approach. When she reached the top of the stairs, she stopped. He herds the unzipping of a purse and some rummaging. Probably checking her make up. A moment passed and she resumed walking. As she reached the door, Danny called “Its not locked, please come in”.
A pause precluded the squeak of hinges, complaining as they pivoted open. Danny turned and smiled warmly at his guest. “How did you know I was…” She asked, her face a little confused and surprised. On her youthful face, it looked exactly like a child trying to figure how the rabbit had been pulled out of a hat. Danny only chuckled “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I was ignorant to my surroundings, now would I?” Mrs. Callahan raised an eyebrow, but then only nodded in agreement. Danny Gestured at the chairs situated in front of his desk “Pleas, take a seat”. As Nancy sat down, Danny caught her gaze drifting around the room, her nose wrinkled in disgust. Obviously she was used to more organized surroundings. “Perhaps you should look into a filing cabinet. There so much stuff in here you could probably hit this place with a lightning strike and start the evolution of life all over again”
Danny laughed, his head thrown back to the ceiling “That could very well be true, but I suggest you refrain from tossing around any thunderbolts. Unless of course life started in a bonfire” he smiled “A few years back, my fan short circuited, set the whole room ablaze. But that’s a story for another time. So unless you came to remark on the state of my office, perhaps we could forget about that and get down to buissiness.”
Nancy returned her attention to Danny, and he could tell right away he wasn’t going to like this case. Nancy had a soft face, her features warm and youthful. But her eyes were like daggers, hard, piercing and dangerous. Whatever had done that to her was not the kind of buissiness he wanted to get involved in. But Nancy came, and it’d be in terrible manners to just turn her away now. So Danny sat at his desk, his feet resting on the piled papers, and listened.
“I have a son” Mrs. Callahan began “His name is Aaron. He’s a good kid; he doesn’t get into mischief or anything like that. Last week he disappeared on the way home from school. I called the police, and they told me that he probably just was off playing with his friends and lost track of time. When he wasn’t home at bedtime, I called them again. They put out a bulletin but nothings come up. I’ve called everyone I could think of, but nobody has herd anything. I asked the officer in charge of my case if there was any way to speed up the case and”
Danny smiled “And of course they said I’d find your boy, no problem, right?”
Nancy smiled “Actually they told me that since you never advertise, you probably wouldn’t be busy and might be able to help. But then, they also told me you were a lazy good for nothing”
Danny shrugged, the insult rolling off him without leaving a mark. “Doesn’t matter, you called me didn’t you?”
“Yes, and I don’t mean to be rude, but I think that perhaps they were right. I’m sorry Mr. O’hare, but I don’t see how you could help” Nancy said, sitting up and walking for the door. Danny didn’t make any move to stop her either. Now, insults from the police were nothing to get his goat. The force was never kind to members who quit, nor to people whom served the law without a badge. So Danny got plenty of trouble from them. But having a potential client call him a useless, right to his face, that was another matter entirely.
“Your not married” Danny called, not even looking at Nancy, staring up at the ceiling. She looked back, that confused expression on her face again, her lips puckered ever so slightly, her eyebrows narrowed “Excuse me?”
Danny shrugged “Your not married. You value how you present your self but don’t subscribe to keeping up with the trends. Id wager that means you work somewhere where you need to be spending time with people, need to make a first impression. I’ll guess desk secretary, that it?” Danny glanced at Nancy, reading her expression “No, I’m mistaken. Something in business though. Not to high up, so lets say middle management, that right? You don’t have too big a paycheck” Danny looked at Nancy again, seeing her gaze averted “Oh, I seem to have hit a nerve. Don’t worry though, times are tough for everyone. And your kid, I suspect he’s adopted.”
Danny sat up and looked at the now speechless face of Nancy. “Mrs. Callahan, I may be a bit untraditional, but I’d be strung up by me bootlaces before I’d let anyone be thinking that I’m not good at what I do.” He gave Nancy a hard glare. Danny was not one to let people upset him, but he had his pride, and wouldn’t let anyone step on it. He than smiled “Now what say we put that aside and move forward with a clean slate, otherwise we wont be doing anything to help your kid now will we?”
Nancy slowly sat back down “How’d you do that?” She stammered. Danny shrugged “Dose it matter? So long as I get the answers” Nancy nodded “I suppose…” She paused, in thought. Danny leaned back and waited.
“Alright Mr. O’hare. You’re hired” Nancy nodded, smiling.
“Call me Danny”
End of Part 1
Part 2: The Players
The room was dark. Four walls, one floor one ceiling. No lights. The apartment was Spartan in nature, only a single room, most of which was occupied by the bed wedged unceremoniously in the corner further from the door. A cockroach flirted across the floor, squirming between scattered clothing and garbage which was gradually consuming the floor. The vermin scampered along the walls, managing to stumble upon the kitchen. There, it was tempted to gorge on the crumbs which lays strewn about, but instead chose to investigate the roach motel which was half hidden under the stove. Minutes later, the bug was dead.
Danny lay in bed, awake yet regretting the fact he was. He felt hung-over, his head was pounding against the inside of his skull, a lunatic attempting to escape its padded cell. He hadn’t been drinking, but was simply not a morning person. It was unfortunate for him then that, regardless if was a morning person or not, the world was not going to sit idle while he lay under his sheets. But he hoped the world would forgive him making use of the snooze button on his alarm clock. It could spare him an extra five minutes.
As he lay there, his thoughts turned to the past and future. Nancy Callahan. She’d hired him to find her missing son. He hadn’t liked the case from the start, but had taken it anyway, partially out of pride, partially out of a sense of duty, mostly out of need for financial gain. He recalled questioning Mrs. Callahan on her child, Aaron, but more on herself. Seemed like a good family, Nancy and her child. They looked out for one another. Good thing they did, since nobody else was likely to. Nancy worked in television, as a receptionist for the channel 5 news. Danny recalled smiling a bit, his original deduction of her carrier, a secretary, not to far off the mark No enemies, nobody with a grudge, not even a disgruntled X-boyfriend. Which left Danny in a rough spot, since he had no leads. Probably why the police hadn’t made any luck with the case. Her kid Aaron was just as spotless. Smart kid, did his homework, followed the rules. Not the kind of kid to go talking to strangers.
Danny pondered the situation. If it was just a random kidnapping, then he didn’t have many places to start looking. He could start asking questions, maybe call in a few favors, but that would likely get him nowhere. Plus, a single random kidnapping was unusual. People who grabbed children off the street usually won’t stop with just one. He could check in with the district police, get their info on the case. There was a slim, but not impossible, chance that there were other kids who’d been snatched up, and the news hadn’t put the word out. He needed information, options, and leads. Something to point him on a trail. That much was certain.
As the alarm clock informed him that his five minutes were up, Danny rolled himself out of bed. Dressing himself in whatever clothing happened to find its way into his hand, he was now clad in a bleached white shirt with three missing buttons which had been lodged under a pizza box, yet miraculously emerged unstained. Over this he added a dusty leather jacket, which he gave a half hearted attempt at cleaning off, though it made little difference. Finding a pair of well worn jeans laying on his bedpost, Danny slid his legs into them, seeing his knee trough the small holes torn into the denim on one side. He checked his pockets, hoping for some loose change, hands brushing the frayed beltloop as they fumbled groggily, but in the end finding only a packet of gum.
Danny flicked on the TV, the screen coming to life, revealing the happenings in the world. He listened to the newscast as his hands busied themselves with breakfast. Oatmeal was not what he would have preferred, but it was quick to make and filled him enough to last till lunch, so that was his breakfast of choice. On screen, they were replaying the president’s Inaugural address from the previous afternoon. Danny didn’t care much for Nixon. The guy struck him as paranoid, manipulative. Nobody else seemed to think so. That or everyone hated the guy, and someone had miscounted the ballots. Either way, he saw it as proof that his country was going downhill fast.
Breakfast in his belly, Danny headed out of his apartment. It was still early, the first beams of sunlight only now filtering down through the monolithic towers of the city. The cab drivers were out, along with a few early commuters, but besides them, the roads were empty. Danny walked down the sidewalk, gas currently being to big an expense to stress his already overstretched budget with. He didn’t mind though. Danny liked to walk, it gave him time to think, where as dodging traffic would require his full attention. He considered his case again. Aaron Callahan had been kidnapped eight days prior. For reasons unknown, he’d never made it home from school. There was nothing to suggest he’d simply run away either. As Danny walked, he took each little factoid and hunch, weighing hem up against his own instincts and experience, turning the pieces over. Like any puzzle, all it took was looking at things from the right angle. But in the time it took for him to walk the eighteen blocks from his apartment complex to the police station, the correct angle eluded him.
The entrance hall to the police station was just as empty as the streets. The arrow hallway was flanked on either side by long wooden benches. Occasionally there’d be scratched in name, graffiti records of the people who’d sat on the uncomfortable hardwood, nervously trying to pass the time as they wait for processing to finish. Danny could see the ghosts of a past life, when he’d stood under the florescent tubes, their cool impassive light shining of his polished badge. Nostalgia was not a luxury that Danny liked to indulge, and he hurried down the blue tiled floors towards the reception desk.
The officer seated at the front desk was one that Danny recognized, and the one he wanted to see. He was a large man, built like a barrel, thick and round. His features were plump, his cheeks puffing outwards with each breath. His nose was wide set and looked squished into his face, almost as if he’d been hit with a shovel and never fully recovered. Behind the thick rimmed glasses perched on his face were his brown eyes, which dutifully were directed downwards at the files currently holding his attention. Out of all his features, Danny found his hands the most indulging. His fingers were like wet sausages, rubbery and stuffed. Yet they nimbly moved with a coordinated grace that almost made it seem like they were mercurial, each piece independent of the rest yet synchronized as a whole. It was like watching a sumo wrestler dance ballet.
“What you got for me Mac?” Danny asked, leaning his elbow onto the desk. The officer jumped, his sausage fingers sent flailing as their choreography found itself interrupted. “Jeasus Christ Danny, Don’t do that! You want to give me a heart attack!?” He whined, his voice like bubbling soup in the way it slid out of his mouth.
Danny only laughed, finding the outburst both amusing and gratifying. “Relax Mac, or you’ll be giving yourself a heart attack without any help from me. I got a case and I’m looking for some information”
Mac grumbled something under his breath, giving Danny an annoyed glance, but one which laked any fierceness or anger. He disappeared behind the polished wood, ducking under the desk to reach his scattered papers, his swivel chair groaning in displeasure at the strain of his shifting weight. As he returned to his paperwork, having retrieved the dropped files, the ballet performers regained their composure and began starting up there dance on the downbeat. Not missing a step as he did, Mac returned his gaze to Danny “You know I get flak from the department every time I give you private access to case files.” his brown eyes were like a puppy’s, pleading to leave him be, but knowing full well that Danny would likely press the issue.
“Mac Me Boy, Tell me, have I’ve ever done anything to merit your distrust? We went to the academy together we did. Now maybe the rest of the boys in blue don’t appreciate your assistance, but I sure as hell do.” Danny could see Mac’s resolve waver, but it didn’t crack yet.
“I’m sorry Danny, but things are busy here. We’ve been flooded with reports lately, ever since that Red Light Killer showed up.” Danny recalled reading in the paper about a series of murdered prostitutes turning up in dumpsters. If he remembered correctly, there were at least three in the last month alone. The media was calling the perpetrator the Red Light Killer.
“Fine Mac, you don’t have to tell me anything. Just be a pal and listen. Aaron Callahan kidnapped a week ago. Ringing any bells?” Danny looked at Mac, whom was nodding slightly. Mac was a great guy, but a terrible card player. He might as well broadcast his thoughts to anyone within ear shot, as you could just as easily read them off his expression. “Anyhow, I need some leads. Kids don’t just disappear on their own now do they? Somebody must know something.”
Danny leaned over to Mac, close enough he could smell the coffee on the portly officer’s breath. “So here’s what you’re going to do for me. You’re going to sit there and be thinking to yourself if you really can take the guilt, knowing there be a lost little boy out there, and that you, Mac, you are the person holding the information which could speed up getting this wee boy back to his loving mom. And then your going to realize that maybe there isn’t any harm in giving me a little hint, just enough to put me on the right trail. And then, Mac, you’re going to say…?”
Mac looked up at Danny, whom met his gaze and held his expression locked in a friendly grin. Mac quickly looked away, clearly feeling pressed into a corner. Danny just continued smiling, watching Mac continue to wrestle with himself, knowing full well that he was going to lose this confrontation. At last he mumbled “Well, there is this guy we’re keeping over night…”
Danny grinned. Now there were getting somewhere, just a little more and he’d get what he needed “Ya, what about him?”
“Its probably nothing but” Whatever Mac might have said was cut of as his gaze averted to something behind Danny, at around the same time that the private eye felt a hand clap down on his shoulder “Danny, Do we have to go through this again?” Came the stern voice from behind. Danny turned to face the voices owner, Captain Thomas Jackson. The man was getting up there in years, his carefully combed mustache turned ashen gray. Danny could see the hairline on his furrowed brow already receding back, perhaps intimidated by the perpetual glare his steely eyes seemed to possess. It had been a long time since such a veteran officer had seen the front lines, yet he still had the presence of a linebacker, his square set shoulders and rugged frame only just managing to squeeze into his uniform. Danny looked Captain Jackson over, noting he imperial like gaze he held, the authority he enforced on whatever he surveyed . Old age might win in the long run, but here was a man who was clearly giving it a run for its money.
“Jack, hay, good to be seeing ya. How’s Junior keeping?” Danny knew that Jackson’s eldest boy, Thomas Jackson Jr., was the captains pride and joy. And in this case, Danny’s diversion and possible escape from a longwinded lecture on the proper channels for acquiring information related to a case.
“Don’t change the subject Danny. You’re not an officer any more, which means you cant just waltz about and do as you please. Its disruptive to the entire precinct! Why, if everyone had your attitude towards the law then- ”
“Then your cases would get solved twice as fast with half the manpower” Danny interjected, beginning to let his feet edge around the captain, whom was currently blocking Danny’s path to the exit.
“Blast it Danny! Your recklessness causes twice as many problems as it solves” Jackson was really getting worked up, his wrinkled face looking like an over ripened tomato. Danny only gave a dismissive shrug “Now we both know that’s an exaggeration, or at the very least a gross misinterpretation of events” knowing as he did from experience, once the Captain got started, there was no earthly force that could stop him till he ran his course. Better to just endure his preaching and be done with it.
“Exaggeration! What about last month when you destroyed hundreds of thousands of dollars of artwork and put two men in the hospital?! Is that an Exaggeration?!”
Danny smiled a little, recalling back to his previous case. Several valuable paintings had been stolen from a private collection. It took Danny a week and a half to track the art down, and when he found the thief, he jumped in his car and fled. Danny managed to shoot out one of the guys tires before he’d gotten too far, causing him to swerve out of control. He struck another car and drove it off the road, before finally spinning out and crashing into a hotdog stand. Somehow, in all this, the car engine caught fire. This might not have been such a problem, had the artwork in question not been in the trunk of the getaway car. He was not paid, needless to say, for returning the fire damaged artwork.
“Look, Captain, here’s the thing, I be on a case and be needing information. I know you’re going to want to be getting back to running things around here, So I’ll just be”
“Oh no you don’t Danny, I’m not done with-” It was at this time that Danny, in a final bid to regain the initiative, did the unexpected. Taking the stick of gum from his pocket, he quickly shook Jackson’s hand, depositing the sugary treat in the mans wrinkled palm “Here, do be enjoying this” Before dashing out of the police department before the veteran officer could gather what had just happened.
Back outside, and none the wiser, Danny set off again down the boulevard, working his way through the other pedestrians as he did. The streets were not so empty now, as the working members of society ventured out of their homes, leaving the once dry riverbed of the streets now a steady stream of people coming and going. He listened to the snippets of conversation that he could gleam from those he passed. Mozart and Beethoven were nothing next to the subtle limericks and melodies of the street. It had feeling and voice, the percussion of sole on sidewalk accentuated by the countermelody of rubber tire grinding along the roadways. The song was ever new and changing, and it provided a backdrop to Danny’s on thoughts.
Mac had mentioned a guy they had in holding. Could be a lead, but at the same time, could be nothing. Captain Jackson wasn’t about to let Danny sneak back in anytime soon. As he stood waiting for the crosswalk light to change, in the mass of bodies which clustered against the dge, waiting to hurry on their way, it occurred to him he had one other place he could visit. One contact who was always glad to see him.
Forty five minutes of walking through the increasingly congested city passed by without note. Sometimes Danny would be carried by the flow of people, sometimes he’d have to muscle through it. The tributary’s far removed from the main stream is what Danny followed, carrying him to his destination. The familiar White Washed compound walls shined like mirrors in the early morning sun. He was fairly confident having blindingly bright paint was some kind of traffic hazard, but had never been able to prove anything. Walking through the wrought iron gates and down the garden lined pathway onto the main building, Danny stopped by the front desk to grab his visitors pass, vaguely recognizing the crone like woman perched behind the desk, eyeing him like he carried the plague. But Danny only smiled, even thanking the hag when she finished looking over the sign in sheet and handed him his visitor badge.
His feet seemed following their own path, trained though practice to the point where they no longer needed Danny’s guidance. First the took him to the stairwell and up three floors, dodging the buildings staff as he went. Twelve paces out of the stairwell, right turn. Thirty seven paces down the hallways, past the vending machine and then a second right turn. Fourth room on the left hand side, immediately opposite the plastic flowers arranged in the tacky vase left on the window frame.
The door was unlocked, which wasn’t surprising, as Danny had never once found it to be otherwise. Letting himself in, Danny smelt the wafting ordure of a cigar being smoked. The room inside was pampered and clean, the tile floor bare of so much as a speck of dust, polished to the point that the gleam of lights could induce vertigo in those not used to such a stark brightness. The main entrance lead to the living area, two easy chairs left sitting, angled towards the television resting on top of a mahogany dresser, the receiving antenna bent at sporadic angles making it look more like a work of art than a functioning device, its screen black and vacant. Placed carefully between the two moth eaten chairs was a small end table, upon which the queen stood ready to take the opposing rook, the two colored battlefield paused in mid confrontation. Through an open archway on the left, there was an adequate kitchen and dining area. Judging from the cleanliness of the room, the chambers resident seldom ventured there.
The room was occupied by an elderly gentleman; his back hunched as if bearing a great weight, the white robe draped over his shoulders too big a burden for such a skeletal figure to bear. His skin was like paper, crumpled up and left in some long forgotten crevice that had only now found its way back out and rejoined the rest of him. Upon his head were a few lingering hairs, their colors long since having abandoned them. But his face, despite the great crevasses which seemed to permeate out of every pour to ensnare his visage, was held in a boyish grin, his soft eyes twinkling, holding the glee of an early Christmas. In one clawed and he gripped a smoldering cigar, clutching the rolled tobacco so tightly that it was a wonder his fingers could still move at all.
“Daniel! Good to see you again! Please, Please, come in, Sit, Relax” He exclaimed, his voice a rasping shutter caught in the breeze. He half chuckled, half coughed as he hobbled over to the two sitting chairs, gesturing for Danny to follow.
“How you been keeping old man? Still fighting off the reaper with tooth and nail I see” Danny teased, accepting the offer to sit and relax, seating himself at the western flank of the chessboard while his host took the eastern.
Letting out a choked cackle, the gentleman nodded “Keep teasing me if you like, but it wont be so damn funny when you’re the one coughing up a lung every time you get out of bed.”
Danny shrugged “Pat, we both know you’ll outlive us all in the end. You’re to stubborn to die you are.” Danny seized one of his pawns, shifting it forward. “Be sure not to dance too hard on my grave. I don’t want you throwing out your hip.”
Pat gazed at the board a moment before sliding his queen accost, laying low Danny’s last rook, the first one lost in a minor skirmish two weeks prior. “So Daniel, how’s things in your life? Still clinging to the grimy underbelly of society?” Danny smirked a little “Been good actually. Got myself a case I did. Missing kid.” He let the pride show on his face, matched by an equal dismay on Pats. Danny held his hand out “Give it up”
Solemnly, Pat deposited his cigar in Danny’s awaiting hand. Rubbing out the embers, he tossed the burnt paper tube into the garbage where it landed with a satisfying thud. Pat only grumbled “Why on earth I agreed to stop smoking whenever you get a case is beyond me”
“If I recall, it was the time I snuck you a bottle of Gin” Danny answered, his knight leaping through two pawns locked in melee, catching the bishop unprepared for assault without the guarding presence of the queen. He showed no mercy in dispatching the priest. “So don’t complain.”
“I’m not complaining, I’m just surprised you actually managed to find someone crazy enough to hire you” Pat’s bony hand tapped the kings crown, debating his next move. “So, get any leads yet?”
Danny sighed, leaning back in his chair. “We’ll, I have managed to narrow down my list of suspects.” He admitted.
“That so?” Pat muttered, issuing his command for his own rook to advance three clicks northward, baiting Danny’s own queen into abandoning her defenses for a sudden attack. Danny nodded “Yup. At this point in the investigation, I’m confident the kidnapper is alive, between the age’s of 20 and 80, and probably lives in the northern hemisphere.”
Pat gave another wheezing chuckle “You figure that out all by yourself?” He gave a sad attempt at a shrug, the effort clearly draining. Danny only laughed “The chase is only just getting started, don’t be expecting me to have it all figured out yet.”
“I don’t expect you to figure it out ever, but that’s never stopped you before either.” Pat smirked a little.
The conversation was on hold for a time as the war between them intensified. Danny shifted one of his pawns to guard his queen against Pat’s rook, only to be side struck when Pat used his remaining bishop to slaughter through Danny’s eastern flank, his ground troops there not standing a chance. Danny regretted their sacrifice, watching on sadly as he allowed one after another to fall as he continued to move a single pawn towards the enemy lines. When Pat brought his queen around to block Danny’s agent, Danny responded with an unexpected gambit, his bishop swooping across the battlefield as if born on the wings of angels, his righteous blade impaling the empress where she stood. Pat got his revenge by catching Danny’s only remaining knight off guard, struck down by a pawn. A pitiful way for such a proud warrior to go down.
The conflict took its toll on Pat, his energetic smile now looking tired, strain clear on his face. This wasn’t unusual; Danny knew that his age was a burden which Pat needed to devote most of his strength to fight off. By comparison, his skirmishes with Danny were trifling simple. “We’ll I suppose I ought to be going” Danny smiled, moving his pawn forward, into the enemy stronghold, where he was reborn as a rook.
Pat smiled “Can’t keep up with me eh? We’ll be sure to stop by again soon. Doctors are no company at all, always pressing me with pills, or sticking so many needles in me I feel like a pin cushion. Bah! I’m more likely to die of bordom than anything else” Danny shrugged, for a moment looking at Pat’s decaying form with sad eyes, but only for a moment before smirking “I’ll be around, don’t you be worrying about that” He promised, giving his old friend a pat on the back “Be seeing ya Pat”
On his way out, Danny dropped by the main desk to sign out and turn in his visitor badge. The crone was still there, still turning her nose up at Danny. But he ignored her. He found the correct clipboard. Alzheimer’s ward; Name of Patient you are visiting: Patrick O’Hare.
Leaving behind what was left of the man who had been his father, Danny passed under the iron gates, his eyes firmly gazing forward to face the city. He may have not gotten any information from his Dad, but he did find some resolve. His father was old and had little life left to live. Aaron was young and had plenty of years left before him, something which was in danger of being taken away.
“I’ll find ya kid” Danny murmured to himself. “I’ll find Ya”
End of Part 2
Part 3: The Pride
For an hour and a half, Danny walked the streets, his eyes scanning constantly, searching for the clue he knew must be there. Flanked by monolithic towers, man made mountains which encroached on heavens domain, the spires looming down at him, laughing at an ant who fancied himself a detective. It’d been four days since Nancy had came to Danny with her plea for aid. Four days of dead end leads, four days of fruitless inquiry. Nobody knew anything. It was like the kid didn’t even exist.
He’d walked this rout, the six blocks between Aaron’s school and his home, hoping to replay the boy’s last moments before being snatched off the face of the earth. People don’t just disappear. They left their mark wherever they went. There had to be something. There had to be.
The stench of rotting garbage invaded Danny’s nose. Trash which had been sitting there, festering in obscurity. Garbage crews were on strike, and the whole city smelt like rot. Thankfully the weather was cool; else the reek of decomposition would have choked everyone to death.
He’d lost track of how many times he’d paced up and down the street, trying to get time to turn itself back, grant him a glimpse of what had been. But no matter how hard he forced himself to look, he was just chasing specters through a fog. What was he missing? There had to be some vital piece, some junction, something to point him in the right direction.
A black cat ran in front of Danny, dating out of an ally way. Just what he needed. Bad luck on top of all his other problems. The stray was skeletal and disheveled. Times were tough, even for a cat. Unlike Danny, the cat had managed to find what it was looking for, as evident by the scrap of meat in its fangs. Danny suddenly felt as if his innards were being squeezed by an icy giant. It wasn’t a scrap of meat. It was an index finger.
The stench in the ally was ten times worse as the reeking fumes Danny’s encountered on the street. He felt as if it was physically assaulting him, pushing him back. Fighting upstream, through the cascading decay, Danny located a rusted dumpster, secluded from sight. Inside, amidst the rats and vermin, half buried under discarded rubbish, was a young girl.
In life, she’d probably been beautiful. Now she was a monster. Her skin as ripped and torn, meaty chunks sliced open, sinew cut from bone. Her bare breast was torn and bruised, a bespeckled patchwork of abrasions. Her death had not been quick. Danny felt ill, and it had nothing to do with the putrid aroma. He had been desperate for a clue, begging for a hint, some scrap of proof to guide him. In hindsight, should have been more specific.
Half an hour, and one phone call later, the crime scene was an overturned anthill of investigators and forensics, practically climbing on top of one another as they combed the site. Danny sat on the sidelines, watching the scrambling officers. Out of the mess appeared Captain Jackson, sweat collected in the strained wrinkles of his face. Another dead prostitute had turned up in his district. The fourth one this month.
“Danny, get that god awful grin off your face” the Captain grumbled, stepping towards Danny, his hands knotted into fists. Danny kept his satisfied smirk. While Danny regretted the circumstances, he still couldn’t help but feel at least a sliver of pride at having beaten the investigation team to the punch line.
“How long she been laying their Jack?” Danny inquired, snatching a cup of coffee from a passing officer with a tray in hand. He took a sip and grimaced, no cream, no sugar. Awful. He offered the cup to the captain, who glared. Danny took this as a no.
“Early estimate? Looks to be around a week. I know what your thinking, but just drop it Danny”
“I would If I could, but that’s not how I work, you ought be realizing that by now. So this body turned up here around the same time that the Callahan boy vanished? Could be connected” Danny sipped the poor excuse for coffee again, hoping perhaps it might grow on him. It didn’t.
“Could be a lot of things Danny. Where is the evidence? Far as we can tell after the Killer is done with the bodies he dumps them at random. With the Garbage strike, nobody found this one. Simple as that. The fact your missing kid disappeared along this road is just coincidence, plain and simple”
Danny gave a little laugh “Coincidence? Hell Jackson, your getting old. You know as well as I do that coincidences like this don’t just happen. There’s a reason. There is always a reason. Now as I see it, maybe..”
“Drop it Danny” The captain stated, the weight of authority on his voice.
“… Maybe Callahan saw something he shouldn’t. Maybe the boy saw the body being dumped and the killer needed to make him disappear before he told anyone. It fits”
“Danny, you’ve got an awful lot of maybes and no evidence to back them up with. And your theory is full of wholes. What kind of killer would dump the body in the middle of the afternoon?”
Danny shrugged “Cant say. But there is a connection” He tossed the coffie cup, now thoroughly disgusted with it. “Be seeing you Captain, say hi to Junior for me”
The senior officer pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh before looking at Danny “Keep sticking your nose in places it doesn’t belong and you’ll end up getting it cut off one of these days”
Danny smirked “Maybe, but not today”
Danny spent the better part of the day looking into the Red Light Killer case, digging through the piles of news papers he’d collected in his office, getting background information, trying to find the connection he knew had to exist. Unfortunately, the papers we’re of little aid. They we’re playing down the incidents, trying to avoid causing unnecessary fear. As he read, Danny began to get the sense that he had forgotten something. Not just his rent, he was quite sure that he’d forgotten that. This was the feeling that there was some piece he’d overlooked. He read through the articles again. Series of murders, prostitutes in dumpsters, cut to ribbons, police unable to turn up any clues. What was he missing?
His thoughts were interrupted by a pounding on his door. Last thing he wanted to deal with right now was his landlady. He needed to concentrate “Listen you Banshee! I’ll have the rent by the end of the week so go darken someone else’s doorstep!”
In the following second, there was silence, followed by the awful sound of an oak door being ripped from its hinges. Danny only had time to turn and catch a glimpse of what had a shocking resemblance to a humanoid freight train coming at him before being tackled by the assailant. He felt the wind get knocked out of him as he was plowed back through his office, striking the wall opposite with enough force that Danny was confident he’d just cracked a rib.
Danny’s head seemed to be moving at a snails pace. He was still trying to cope with the fact he’d have to buy a new door, rather than the thumping sound he was hearing was being caused by the repeated blows to the face he was receiving. It occurred to him that, while he was not the easiest guy to get along with, he was fairly confident that he hadn’t done anything lately to piss off a person who resembled a shaved gorilla in a bad overcoat. It was at this point that Danny also noticed his nose was broken as well, and he came to the conclusion that he should probably do something about that.
Danny brought his knee into the gorilla-man’s crotch, enjoying the howl that this action provoked, and the pause in the pounding of his face, something Danny greatly appreciated. Danny kept his momentum going, swinging his fist round, right at the guy’s throat. The thump of fist on flesh reverberated down Danny’s arm. Out of the mass of muscles Shot an arm and grabbed Danny around the back of his head. Danny was aware that suddenly his feet were no longer on the ground. This was followed a moment later by Danny being thrown back through his office, hitting the wall next to where once had been his door. His vision swam and he felt his grip on conscious slip.
A sound rather like Razorblades going through a blender reverberated out of the walking vat of testosterone. Danny’s impaired cognitive function’s discerned that this might be some manner of laugh. The guy cracked his knuckles with all the slow, relaxed motion of a predator watching the weakling of the heard, knowing full well that its already won.
Fortunately, Danny was neither a gazelle, nor about to give up. He managed to climb back to his feet, even bringing his fists up, whipping the blood from his face. The Gorilla man only laughed again, taunting Danny to come and get him. Danny smiled, and flipped the switch on the wall next to him. The ceiling fan above the brawlers erupted in a shower of sparks, its faulty wiring giving birth to dozens of tiny embers which now rained down on the suddenly very much surprised gorilla man. Danny felt his limbs spring to life, good old fight-or-flight tuning into the former. Danny grabbed the lamp he kept in the corner of his office and gave a beastly cry as he flung it through the air. It crashed into his attackers face, the ceramic body shattering into a multitude of tiny blades. Blades which sliced through skin with ease, causing the brute to stagger, momentarily blinded. Without this singular light source, the Office was suddenly thrown in shadow, the gloom broken only by the fires which were beginning to break out on the newspapers which lay scattered on the floor. Through the multitude of scratches and blood, Danny could see the rage on his attackers face as he recovered. To bad that Danny was faster, and brought the butt of his pistol down onto the mans temple. It may not have been how David would have done it, but this Goliath still crumpled like a pile of leaves, eyes rolling back in his head as unconsciousness took its hold..
Danny stood there a second, Panting hard. Half a dozen thoughts we’re competing for his attention. Someone had sent a hit man after him. He really should buy some bullets. His ceiling fan was still shooting of sparks like the forth of July. Who’d want him dead? and lastly that his office was on fire. The latter managed to wrestle free of the rest, prompting Danny to action. He quickly smothered the embers with a liberal amount of foot stomping and cursing. As the last glow of the flames died out, Danny flicked the switch and killed the power to the fan. Danny looked at his office. It occurred to him that, aside from the unconscious brute and the burn newspapers scattered about, his office was really no more a mess than normal. He wasn’t sure if that was irony or not, but it made him smirk either way.
Danny felt tired. His body ached, and his head was killing, but he still managed to roll the thug over. Digging through the guys coat pockets, Danny found a wad of cash, which he promptly placed in his own pocket. Following this, he discovered some ID, a used movie ticket, and a scrap of paper with two addresses on it. One of which was for a apartment complex on the eastside of town, the other was Danny’s office.
Here was a lead. Someone knew Danny was investigating this case, and someone wanted to stop him. The problem was that to few people knew about his involvement. The list was narrow enough that whoever had ordered his execution was probably someone Danny had talked to in the past few days. And the first address on this piece of paper was Danny’s trail. Hopefully at the end he’d have some answers.
Danny rummaged through the papers of his desk till he uncovered his phone. Punching in the digits, Danny waited impatiently for the other end to answer.
“Hello this is…” Came a dribble, simpering little voice.
“Mac, it’s Danny” Danny answered.
“Oh god Danny, what did you do?” Mac almost sobbed. Danny had a bad habit of only calling Mac after there had been an incident, usually one in which police involvement was required. Danny smirked a little, but his broken nose prevented him from enjoying the action to much.
“Mac, just listen to me. A guy just burst into my office and tried to kill me” Danny answered,
trying to keep calm. He didn’t want to give Mac a heart attack. There was a pause, then “Danny, you serious?”
Danny sighed. He really didn’t have time for this “Ya Mac, now listen, I overpowered the guy and he’s unconscious. I got an address from his pockets and I’m going to follow it. Send over someone to pick this guy up.”
“Er…Danny…Ya, I’ll do that. You, er…want some back up?” Mac offered slowly, seeming to have a difficult time keeping pace with Danny’s thought process.
Danny considered. The less people who knew, the better. At the same time, he didn’t want to go in over his head without something to fall back on. “Ya…Wait a half hour, and then call it in.”
Danny hung up without waiting for a reply. He trusted Mac enough to get the job done. After locating some rope and binding Mr. Gorilla’s limbs, Danny grabbed his coat, some painkillers, and his keys. On the way out he didn’t even notice his landlady standing at the door.
Danny’s car was a beast. A creature hauled up from the pits of hell itself. It’s paint was gone, unwilling to cling to such a decadent blight. With a gurgling yelp it sputtered, an ogre’s disgruntled roar at having its solitude disturbed. It was a car that was best left forgotten on some ulcer of the planet where it would not be seen by the eyes of men. But through a mix of stubborn willpower, and blatant disregard for proper safety regulations, Danny had managed to keep it going. It was in this vehicle which Danny now lurched, bucked, and finally sped down the streets, preparing to strike the heart of the case, ready for answers.
End of Part 3