Nails In A Coffin (Demi Reynolds Book 1) (22 page)

Four

The meeting with the mayor was a little shorter than I had thought it would be. For some strange reason, Shaw had forgotten to mention that the mayor wasn’t interested in meeting us for a briefing on a drug case; he was interested in meeting us for something else entirely. Something that Shaw knew I wouldn’t want any part of. A promotion. A damn pay raise.

“I don’t need the hassle, sir,” I said to the mayor after Shaw informed us of the real reason behind this meeting.

We had walked into the Chief’s office a little after half two in the morning. The smell of stale smoke and ground coffee made me feel nauseous. The sight of my boss’s fake smile nearly made me vomit. I knew we had been duped as soon as I saw his crooked face giving me the “I tricked you Frank” face he was so famous for donning once he’d got one up on me. It’s not like we were in competition with each other, but I swear, he had a personal agenda when it came to making me angry.

“You will take this promotion. If you don’t, I’ll fire you. No pension. No benefits. No cases. You’ll be a washed-up shell of your former self before you know it. I’ll give it two weeks before you slit your own wrists,” Shaw said to me, sitting across the table.

Santiago was close to tears. He was holding in some laughter. I could practically hear his belly rumbling under the buildup of joy bursting through him. I knew my partner fairly well, and knowing him as well as I did, I was certain of the fact that he was enjoying every second of this. He knew how much I hated the politics of the job, and now I was being offered a place at the table, so to speak. They wanted to make me a damn lieutenant. The right-hand man to the chief of police. Shaw’s own glorified lackey. After all these years, he wanted me to pay for everything I had ever done wrong. Every snide comment. Every case I fumbled. Every witness I harassed. Every killer I killed — in self-defense, may I add.

“I won’t take this promotion. You can fire me all you like — I’ll just get a job with the feds. Doesn’t bother me. I’d even take a damn highway patrol spot before I ever take a position next to that asshole.”

Santiago’s held-in laughter didn’t subside this time. He burst out into hysterics, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Oh, man, I love my job!” he cackled.

Shaw didn’t look as happy. His round Irish face was flushed with anger. A red hue had broken across his forehead, and beads of sweat were sliding down his nose. The mayor sat beside him. He looked visibly disturbed, as if he hadn’t ever heard such language escape the police before. He was one of those smarmy do-gooders who would much rather eat cake and drink tea than talk about the problems on our streets. I didn’t like the man. I was holding my tongue, though. I could only afford to piss off one of those men in that room. The other was a guy you didn’t mess with. The mayor might have been an asshole, but he was the damn mayor. And whatever he said, went.

“Mr, McKenzie, I would suggest that you take this new position. It would do you good. You’d make more money. You’d be more of an asset to us if you were fighting the war on crime from your desk, instead of — ”

I interrupted him.

“Instead of from the front line?” I asked.

Shaw chimed in. “Frank, you need to take this job. I can’t cover for you anymore. The next perp you assault will land both you and me in prison. I can’t fight off the D.A. anymore. He wants you out. I, on the other hand, need you here. You’re my best detective.”

Santiago grimaced. “Thanks, boss. I understand that I’m no Frank McKenzie, but I think I am at least a tenth better than he is at public relations.”

Shaw looked at Santiago and shook his head. “For God’s sake, Santiago, I’m trying to convince your damn partner to take a job that will keep him out of trouble, and all you’re interested in is proving who’s the better cop.”

“I am,” I interrupted.

“Enough!” the mayor shouted. He stood up and combed his hair back with his fingers. “I trust you’ll have this figured out before I get back. I’m going for a leak. I expect this matter to be closed before I wash my hands. Got it?”

We all nodded. He left the room. I stood up and went for my coat.

“Where are you going?” Shaw asked.

“Home. I can’t be bothered to hash this out right now. I’ll be in tomorrow.”

I was just about to go for the door when Shaw burst out of his seat.

“Don’t you dare walk through that door, Frank! Can’t you see that I’m trying to help you?”

I turned back around and saw Shaw leaning over his desk, as if he was ready to pounce from afar. Santiago, on the other hand, was now donning a new expression on his face. He didn’t look like he was holding in any more laughter.

“I told you, I’m not going to do it, Shaw!” I hissed, grabbing at the door handle.

“Then compromise!” Shaw bellowed before I managed to turn the knob.

I turned back around once again and walked up to his desk. I thumped my fist on the hard mahogany and licked my lips. I was seething with anger. I couldn’t for the life of me work out why Shaw was jerking me around like this. He seemed to generally want me as his right-hand man. I didn’t know if it was a respect thing or if it was a saving-his-ass thing. Either way, I didn’t want any part of it. But I was willing to do it on my terms. Obviously, there was a catch. If there was one thing that I’d learned doing this job, it was that there’s always a catch.

“Okay, fine,” I said, clearing my throat. Shaw’s face went a strange color, as if a rush of relief went coursing through his pores. “I’ll consider it,” I said.

“There is nothing to consider,” Shaw demanded.

“Okay. Hear me out. I will prove to you that I can do my job without stepping on people’s toes. If I can prove that to you and the mayor, then I can keep my current position. I’ll change if need be.”

Shaw looked surprised as he gave me the once-over. I followed his eyes as they scanned me for any weaknesses in my defenses.

“That’s not good enough. This isn’t a game, Frank. The odds are stacked against you. This is a one-time offer. If you don’t accept, then you’ll be let go.”

“Look, I know that the only reason you’re forcing me to take the lieutenant job is because you want the mayor off your back.”

Shaw’s face went red once again. “No, that’s not the reason!” he exploded, nearly ripping my head clean off my shoulders with his forceful breathing. “I want you to take this job because you are nothing but a liability in the field. Every case you get, I get reports of sexism, racism, police brutality, and intimidating the witness! Not to mention that you, on occasion, have been known to take anti-psychotics on the job! Plus, the last case you worked on, three men died, and the killer was detained with his penis missing. He says you did that to him, and I believe him!”

I nodded. What he was saying was true, except the allegations of me being a racist. I didn’t hate any particular race, just humanity as a whole.

“Okay, I hear you, Shaw. But listen. If I manage to go one full case without making anybody angry, sad, or suicidal, then I don’t take the job. That’s my offer.”

Shaw looked at me and then at San. “No fucking way. What do you think this is?”

“I think that this is a negotiation, and if you don’t meet my requirements, then you’ll lose me. I have friends in high places, Shaw. I don’t need to stay in Boston. Plenty of places could do with me.”

“Yeah, sounds about right,” Shaw said, wiping at his sweaty brow. “I can imagine that there’s a huge line of people wanting your services. The FBI must be creaming in their pants at the thought of you destroying a perp’s face beyond recognition.”

“You heard what my offer is. I won’t do anything to ruffle anybody’s feathers. If I do, you can give me the job and cut my pay in half for a year.”

Shaw smiled.

“Confident that you won’t fail?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t offer you this deal if I wasn’t.”

Santiago patted me on the shoulder. “Looks like
all’s well, ends well
!” he said.

I turned around and walked toward the door. I reached for the handle and opened the heavy wooden door.

“Fine. If you fuck up, Frank, your ass is mine.”

I smiled and then said, “If I succeed, though, I want double the pay and ten more vacation days.”

I walked out of the office with a permanent smile on my face.

“You won’t succeed, Frank!” I heard Shaw say as I escaped through the precinct doors into the darkness of the night.

Five

Six hours later

“Jack, stop annoying your sister!” Serena Brody snapped as she took an easy left onto the school campus.

It was a large school. It catered to more than two thousand high school students. Her son and daughter were both freshmen, and understandably, they were overly excited about most things, including annoying each other on a regular basis.

“She started it!” her difficult teenage son said as he fiddled around with his earphones. The sounds of crashing bass lines and high-hat drum solos reverberated in the thin atmosphere of the small family car.

“I don’t want to hear it, Jack,” Serena said, audibly hushing her son.

The car came to a stop. Both teens escaped the grips of their mother without saying goodbye. Serena sounded the car horn as a way of saying goodbye. Modern parenting was a drag, but she felt a little more relaxed knowing her children were strong-willed individuals. There weren’t any sleepless nights worrying about the safety of Jack and Nicole. They could look after themselves just fine.

She shifted gears and accelerated out of the campus. The early morning sun was glistening against the dashboard, bouncing light into her eyes. She squinted, flapping down the sun guard as she turned right onto the road leading back to her house. She lived near the school, no more than a mile down the road. The neighborhood in question was a nice one. It resembled a gated community, but it lacked the gates. Plants and flowers in pots sat on either side of the road, giving a nice dash of colour to the gray and black of the asphalt.

Serena felt a surge of relief rush through her as she reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. When nobody was around, she liked to dabble in the joy of a smoke or two. She knew people would judge her if they knew she was sucking down on cancer sticks, but she felt as if she needed them. Being a single mom played havoc with her emotions, so a little smoking here and there wasn’t a big deal in her mind.

She lit up the cigarette and rolled down the windows. The sun hit her face, and the wind whipped her hair as she picked up speed. She caught herself feeling odd. She felt as if something wasn’t right. It was akin to one of those gut feelings she got when she knew something bad was going to happen. It wasn’t a strong feeling, just a slight pang of fear that was creeping its way up her esophagus and out of her mouth. She gasped for air.

“Jesus,” she said, realizing she was having a panic attack.

It was a regular occurrence for her. It happened many times a day. She didn’t know what set them off, but she knew how to ease herself out of them. She took one deep breath and held it in. In that moment, she caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror. Worn-out eyes stared back at her. She could see the cars behind her. All of them looked ominous, one of them in particular. A black sedan was on her tail. She blinked twice, rapidly, and then opened her eyes once more. She saw the sedan again, but this time it was farther away. Something was off, but she knew that her fleeting panic was causing such thoughts. If she was to see a butterfly at that very moment, she would suspect it of being an omen. That was Serena all over. She was a superstitious soul.

The panic finally settled after a minute or two. She was used to driving while suffering an attack. Her doctor had told her to take meds to ease the symptoms, but she refused to do so. She believed that they would numb her soul, turning her into something, or someone, she wouldn’t recognize.

She was near her house now. No more than a minute or so to go. The panic hadn’t gone yet. It was still there, nibbling at her insides. But she had it under control. It wasn’t going to beat her. She was adamant of that. She caught another glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror. Her eyes looked hollow. They expressed pain and sorrow, while being surrounded by red circles around her pupils. She looked as if she had a fire brewing in her soul. But she was determined to extinguish it. She wouldn’t let it get the better of her. She wouldn’t let it destroy her.

Then she noticed something. Something that was staring her right in the face. The car behind her. The black sedan was still there. It was tailing her. Edging ever closer. She didn’t know if what she was seeing was a sign, or if it was just a regular car. She wasn’t a paranoid person, but she knew when something didn’t feel right. She put her foot down on the gas. The car sped up. She flicked her eyes between the road and the rearview mirror. With every second that passed, her house grew nearer, and the sedan got farther away. She took a hard left and then a right. She was now on her street. The suburban housing on either side looked welcoming. She was still keeping a watchful eye on her mirror. The car that had spooked her was gone. She felt safe again. She was home, so there wasn’t anything to worry about.

She saw her house sitting on the corner of the street, right at the end. She smiled. She felt a sense of relief to be back. She flicked her cigarette out of the window and rolled it back up. She pulled into her drive. Her heart sank suddenly. There was a man on her doorstep. He was smiling at her. She didn’t recognize him. But her momentary sense of fear was washed away when she saw the kindness in his eyes. She knew there was nothing to be afraid of.

“I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am,” she heard him say.

She nodded and got out of the car. The sounds of birds chirping in the trees and yard work being done in the background comforted her. She noticed that none of her immediate neighbors were home. She was the only one with a car in her driveway. She brought her attention back to the man on her porch. He was tall. He had a dark suit on. His eyes were piercing yet gentle. He was young. Maybe twenty-four to twenty-five. Definitely under thirty.

“Can I help you?” Serena asked.

The man nodded. She walked up to him, was just about to fish out her keys when she spotted something in his right hand. It glinted in the sunlight. Her heart thumped in her chest. He had a knife. He saw the fear in her eyes. He covered her mouth with his left hand and struck her with his right. The long nine-inch blade went into her chest. A large popping sound went off. Two of her ribs had cracked. The man took the knife out of her and swung back once more. This time he struck her in the abdomen. Her legs buckled, and she collapsed onto the ground. She was gasping for air, gargling on her own blood. But the man wasn’t finished. She caught him staring at her. He got down onto one knee and grabbed her by the hair, raising her head slightly off the ground. As he did so, he slid the blade across her neck, cutting her throat. She bled out within seconds. He nodded his head solemnly and gently let go of her hair. She looked peaceful. Her eyes were still sparkling as whatever life was left within her escaped into the ether, until there was nothing but blackness in her pupils.

The man got up. He tucked the knife away in his inside jacket pocket. This time, he noticed he’d managed to get his suit dirty. This wasn’t a clean kill. But it was a kill nonetheless. He took one last glance at his downed damsel in decease and turned to face his car. He had parked across the road, near one of her neighbor’s houses. He walked across the road briskly, ignoring the off chance that somebody could see him covered in blood. He got to his car and quickly got in. Firing up the engine, he took one last glance at his kill. A mesh of red and black infused in his skull at the sight of the carnage he had unleashed. There was still more to come. He was certain of that.

The killer drove off in his black sedan.

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