Meanwhile, Our Hero bids good evening to a group of police officers before he lifts a length of yellow tape strung in front of a redbrick townhouse and ducks under it. One of the officers, a young man with a crew cut and shoulders Our Hero considers especially broad slips under the tape and maneuvers around Our Hero. He holds one hand up and says, “You can’t be in here.”
Our Hero smiles, this must be a new officer. “I assure you that I can.”
“Sir, you need to be on the other side of the tape.” The officer says.
Our Hero fights back the urge to laugh. The other officers must be using this officer’s inexperience to play a joke on him. Normally Our Hero would play along, but there is a crime to be solved. “It appears that your superiors have not told you about me. I’m Mr. Justice, guardian of the city. I’m here to lend my assistance in solving this mystery and it will be very difficult for me to proceed with my investigation from out there. I really do need to be on this side of the tape.”
A second officer has crossed the tape and now also stands between Our Hero and the crime scene. This one is older, and heavier. “What mystery?” The older officer says, “This was a suicide.” The officer makes a fake with his thumb and forefingers and points it at his temple. He imitates the sound of a bullet firing and jerks his hand back from his head. Our Hero finds this distasteful.
“Have you considered the possibility that this was meant to look like a suicide and the victim was actually murdered?” Our Hero asks.
The two officers exchange glances. The older one laughs. The younger one speaks up again, “Sir, this is the last time I’m going to ask, please exit the area.”
“I really should investigate. If this was not a suicide then we could be giving the murder time to escape, or possibly kill again.” Our Hero steps around the officers and sprints towards the house. He hears the footsteps of the officers behind him. The younger one catches him at the top step. Before Our Hero realizes what is happening, the younger officer pins Our Hero to the wall just to the left of the front door and twists his arm up behind his back. A second later, both of Our Hero’s wrists are cuffed together. “Officer,” he says, “you’ve made a mistake, we’re both defenders of justice.” The young Officer says nothing as he leads Our Hero down the steps.
“I’ll take him,” the older officer says once they are all on the other side of the police tape. He grips Our Hero firmly around the bicep and leads him to a patrol car. “So you’re the guy whose been writing those letters to the chief. Mr. Justice, right?” He says to Our Hero, as they walk.
“Yes, I am Mr. Justice.” Our Hero says. His wrists begin to ache in the handcuffs.
The officer laughed. “You know, we occasionally hear from guys like you. Nothing ever seems to come of it. We figure it’s just some guy playing a joke, or just a nut, you know, but you, man, I’ve never come across a guy like you before. I mean, you’ve got the get up with the mask and everything.”
“The mask is necessary,” Our Hero says, “to protect my identity.”
This makes the officer nearly double over with laughter. The officer’s laugh is high and piercing. It reminds Our Hero of hiccups. “To protect your identity,” the officer says while wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, “that’s a good one, really.” He is still chuckling when he opens the door of his patrol car. Our Hero climbs into the car and positions himself in the center. While he still believes the officers are mistaken, he knows that he must not be seen actively resisting arrest. The arrest will be sorted out once he reaches the station. There he will speak to the Chief, who will insist that Our Hero be freed. The chief will also chastise the officers for arresting Our Hero and for laughing at the offer of his assistance. Our Hero will watch this calmly. Perhaps he will fold his arms across his chest and look severe. He will let the chief lecture his men, but he will stop the lecture just before it reaches talk of disciplinary action. No, after the mention of disciplinary action. That would seem more heroic. He will stop the chief, forgive the officers and praise them for their caution.
The officer sits in the driver’s seat and starts the engine. He looks over his shoulder at Our Hero and says, “Just incase you’re wondering, I’m not taking you in. I figure, you didn’t do any harm and if I take you in, it means extra paperwork for me and to be honest, I was kind of hoping to get home before the wife gets a headache, if you know what I mean.”
As the car pulls forward, Our Hero begins to fear that he has fallen into some kind of trap. His wrists now hurt more than before, one arm has fallen asleep, and his nose itches. This officer could be a henchman for some villain who has learned of Our Hero and wishes to dispose of him before he can establish himself as the city’s protector. “Where are you taking me?” Our Hero asks.
“I figured I’d give you a ride home, that is, if it wouldn’t be a breach of security.”
“It would if I couldn’t trust you,” Our Hero now recognizes the officer as a potential ally, a source of information inside the police force. He had assumed that this would be some one higher in rank, but a patrol officer has his benefits. He is closer to the people of the city. He might learn of crimes faster than the chief, which mean he could summon Our Hero with greater speed. Also, they could more easily meet outside of the police station to exchange information, which would be more convenient for both parties. Our Hero will use this ride home as a test of sorts. He directs the officer to an address near his apartment. He will monitor this location over the next few weeks. If there is no suspicious activity, he will know he has friends on the force.
On the drive over, the police officer introduces himself as Albert, Al to friends and family. He tells Our Hero about his apartment, wife, plans for retirement, and general disdain for the current generation of youth. Our Hero listens politely. He too is concerned about the city’s youth, although he does not share the officer’s bleak view of their future prospects. When he shares this opinion, the officer snorts and shakes his head.
At their destination, the officer helps the Our Hero out of the car and removes the handcuffs. Our Hero shakes out his shoulders, rubs his wrists and finally scratches his nose.
“You seem like a good egg,” the officer says, “that’s why I’m doing this, but you can’t go running into crime scenes. You want to help us out, keep an eye out for trouble. Give us a call if you see anything. You can keep the costume if you like, but leave the police work to us.”
“You will find that I can be of much more use to you,” Our Hero grasps for evidence to support this claim, “I am not bound by the need for warrants. I can gather evidence that you cannot.”
“We’re not interested in that kind of law enforcement. I’ll admit that there have been times I figured it would have been easier just to drag a perp behind a dumpster and beat him senseless, and I know a few detectives who couldn’t get a warrant even though they knew they’d find something, but we got these rules, you know. We gotta follow them, and we can’t just let you break them.”
“I understand,” Our Hero says, thinking he and the officer have reached some kind of agreement. Of course the chief would not contact the hero openly. How could he? Even though fights for justice, he works outside the law. The police must not be seen condoning this kind of behavior.
You have a goodnight then,” the officer says before he drives away.
Our Hero returns to the crime scene several hours later to conduct his investigation. The police have gone, but the front door and first floor windows are all locked and he has no means of ascending to the second floor.
April 28th, 2009 at 1:52 pm
Enjoyed reading this. The writing reminded me of Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole in that Our Hero has as little grasp of reality as Ignatius J. Reilly.