The Interstellar Police Force, Book One: The Historic Mission

by Raymond F. Klein

  Genghis slipped off the couch and sat on the floor. “Yes, it is. And look at this.” He made a tisk-tisk sound. “You’ve been a very bad girl!”

  “It was entrapment!” she said, turning toward Jeff. “Jeff, make him stop . . . please!”

  “Oh! I don’t think so.” Trent knew exactly what Genghis was up too. “Mister Khan?”

  “Yes, Mister Trent?”

  “Proceed.”

  “Miss Winkles, watch what I can do.” He then made a couple of keystrokes and a small window popped up in the middle of the screen over her mugshot and arrest record. It had three words within it, “Delete” then under that “Yes” - “No”.

  Genghis playfully manipulated the cursor so it went from yes to no, then back again while singing La, La, Laaa in a high-pitched Curly Howard voice. Finally, he settled the cursor on yes and hit execute. A small green horizontal bar graph started to move across the delete box displaying numbers as it went. 58%, 88%, 99%, then disappeared along with Jennifer’s mugshot and arrest record.

  “Genghis,” she whispered, “what did you do?”

  “I permanently deleted your record from their hard drive. You now have a clean slate.”

  “Now, Twinkie,” Jeff added, “this doesn’t mean for you to go and start up a Walter White styled meth lab or anything like that.” They'd just started watching episodes of Breaking Bad in between Three Stooges binges.

  “Jeff,” she said, “I wouldn’t, and I have no interest ever going back to . . .”

  “Twinkie, Twinkie,” he interrupted her. “I’m kidding!” He reached down and picked up two brownies from the plate Jennifer had brought in. He handed one to Genghis. “Now, the next time you go to town to look for a job, you don’t have to worry about that section on the application anymore.”

  Jennifer felt as if she had a new lease on life and also felt like crying. She looked at the both of them and said, “Mister Khan, Mister Trent. Thank you!” She then put her arm around Trent’s shoulder and the other around Genghis’s and pulled them close to her.

  “I love you guys.”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  The following morning Jeff and Genghis decided that it was best to tell Jennifer about Trisha before she heard it on the news. They sat her down and told her that they intercepted the call the other morning and didn’t want to tell her until they were absolutely sure it was Trisha. They left out the brutality of her death. Jennifer cried for her friend, but wasn’t surprised by the outcome. She told Jeff and Genghis that she always thought Trisha took unnecessary risks when it came to her clients. Climbing into cars with more than one occupant. Not letting anyone know that she was going.

  “I knew something like this would happen to her,” she said, in between sniffles. “I always told her to let me or Pimples know when she was going off.” She looked up to Genghis and Jeff. “How did it happen? Did they catch the person who did it?”

  “Well, to answer your first question her carotid artery was cut,” Genghis lied. “She bled out in a matter of minutes.” He glanced over to Jeff and continued, “She probably didn’t feel a thing.”

  “And no,” Jeff continued, “to answer your second question, the WPD haven’t caught him yet.”

  “Anything you guys can do?”

  “I’ll have to find the police report, but it’s probably not in the computer yet. But we could start looking into it.” Genghis said, as he sat next to Jennifer on the couch.

  “I’ll have to tell Pimples the next time I see him.” She gave a quick gasp and looked from Jeff to Genghis. “You don’t think Pimples had anything to do with it, do you?”

  “No, Twinkie,” Jeff said. “We’re very sure he had nothing to do with it.”

  After breakfast and coffee, Jennifer went into her bedroom to change. She decided that she would still go into Old Town and start looking for work. It would be a good distraction to keep her mind off Trisha. She entered the living room wearing the same charcoal gray pinstriped pantsuit, but with a different blouse on underneath.

  Jeff looked over. “Very nice, Twink.” He got up. “You ready to go?”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” she said. “You know, whatever happens, happens today! I’m not going to expect too much.” She put on her winter coat. “Anyway I’m not in any real hurry. I’ll find something.”

  “That’s the spirit, Twink,” Genghis said.

  An hour and a half after Jeff and Genghis dropped Jennifer off on Fifth Avenue in Old Town she called and asked for them to come and pick her up. Jeff stood alongside Genghis in the living room with his coffee mug in hand. They were facing Jennifer’s bedroom while she was changing, and when her door opened, Jeff broke out into a big grin while Genghis’s ears folded back onto his head.

  Jennifer came out wearing a new pair of blue jeans and a black polo pullover with the gold-and-white logo of Dave’s Coffee Pot emblazoned on the left breast and her name tag on the right. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she was wearing a baseball cap which also had Dave’s logo on it. She smiled and curtsied. “Well? What do you think?”

  “You look great, Twinkie!”

  “Yes, a contributing member of society,” Genghis added.

  “Yes, you're right, Genghis. And let's not forget about all that free coffee we'll be drinking,” Jeff said as he winked at Genghis. “Let’s not forget the free coffee!”

  “Now hold on, you two. If I start handing out free coffee, it will hurt our bottom line and profits will suffer. And that will hurt my success-sharing check. Dave said we all get one every quarter.”

  “Yes, Twinkie. We were just kid . . .”

  Jennifer interrupted him, “So, no freebies for either one of you,” she said waving an index finger at them. “And I expect you two to come in and see me as often as possible. And I know you very well, Uncle Jeff, as a great tipper.”

  “A what?”

  “So, what time do you start, Twink?” Genghis asked.

  “Tomorrow, eight am. Monica is working the same shift and she’s going to show me everything. She says it’s real easy to catch on, and Dave is going to give me a booklet on how to make everything. He’s a pretty nice guy.”

  “That’s excellent, Twinkie. I’ll make sure I’m up and ready to take you in on time.”

  “We both will,” Genghis said.

  “Thanks, guys, and you don’t have to worry about picking me up after work. Monica said she would drop me off, it’s on her way home.”

  At seven-thirty the next morning, all three were up and ready to take Jennifer into town for her first day on the job. She was wearing the same ensemble she modeled yesterday. She made sure everything was perfect, from her new white sneakers all the way up to the perfectly combed ponytail cascading over her baseball cap's Velcro sizing strap.

  It was a cold morning despite the bright sun and cloudless sky. Old Town was crowded with early morning shoppers getting ready for the holiday. Jeff had to park to the side of Dave’s on 9th Street and apologized to Jennifer for not being able to drop her at the front entrance.

  “No problem, Jeff,” Jennifer said, as she got out of the Thunderbird.

  “Good luck, Twinkie,” Jeff replied, as Genghis hopped over the console and sat in Jennifer’s vacant seat.

  “Have fun today, Twink,” Genghis said. “Don’t take any wooden nickels.”

  Jennifer scratched Genghis’s head between his ears. “I’ll try not to.” She looked at both of them, “Well, here I go!” They said their final good lucks and watched as she turned and disappeared around the corner of the building. As Jennifer walked to the front of Dave’s, she heard someone start laughing hysterically and knew right off who it was.

  “Oh, Twinkie!” Billy Bourbon laughed. “Look at you girl, working for da man!” He looked at her up and down. “Ah come on, you know you ain't gonna make the kind of money working here that you used to. I give you two weeks working at minimum wage and you're back doing what you do best.”

  “Screw you, Billy,” she
said. “I gotta go to work.”

  “Hold on, sweet thing,” Billy said while reaching into his coat to make sure he had Bollar’s radio on him. “Your Sugar Daddy drop you off?”

  “He’s not my . . . you’re an idiot, Billy,” she said, as she turned from him and entered Dave’s.

  “Not to worry, Sweetie!” Billy called after her, “We still need to talk later. Okay?”

  As Trent was turning the cruiser around to head back to the apartment, he and Genghis both saw Billy talking to Jennifer. Jeff parked at the curb as they saw Jennifer turn away from Billy and enter Dave’s. Billy had his back to them as he started walking down the street.

  “This ends today,” Jeff said.

  “Agreed,” Genghis replied, as Jeff pulled from the curb to follow.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  When William ‘Billy Bourbon’ Jamerson had gotten to Bollar’s one-room apartment after his frantic radio call months earlier he found Bollar a bloody mess. Billy could still hear the police sirens in the distance, so it didn’t take rocket science to figure out how Bollar got this way. Bollar explained that his plan went horribly awry and he needed help. He required medical aid and handed Billy a wad of twenties with the instructions to purchase whatever he needed.

  Billy couldn’t take his eyes off of where Bollar’s ear should have been. He glanced down at his blood saturated shirt and said, “Man, you need a plastic surgeon!”

  “I need no one!” Bollar angrily said. “I just need you to get medical supplies and food. It will take me weeks to heal and, needless to say, I can’t venture out. That’s where you come in.”

  After confronting Jennifer in front of Dave's, Billy walked to his 1982 Buick Skylark that was parked at the curb of Fifth Avenue and 10th Street. He climbed in and, after two tries, started the engine. A cloud of blue exhaust belched out of the tail pipe as he pulled from the curb. He would go back to his place and pick up a few things before heading over to see Bollar, who was doing much better now, but was badly scarred and complaining about an intense headache which Billy could do nothing for. He had purchased several bandages and black market oxycodone for the pain that first day and did what he could for Bollar. And Bollar was as good as his word – Billy was paid handsomely for his time.

  Jeff and Genghis kept their distance as they followed Billy Bourbon. He drove into the Compton Square district of Old Town, and when they saw Billy pull his car into a parking lot of a small apartment building Jeff parked the Thunderbird half a block away. They watched as Billy got out of his car and disappeared into the building.

  Billy came out a short time later with a brown paper grocery bag of garbage. It had grease stains on the bottom and was leaking something that left a trail. Billy walked to the back of the building where the dumpster was located. He lifted the heavy duty black plastic lid of the dumpster and tossed the bag in.

  “Excuse me,” a voice came from behind him.

  Billy turned to see a man walking up to him with a dog trotting alongside. Billy took in the man and decided that he wasn’t from around this part of town. “You and your dog lost, mister?” Billy said with a gold grin, breath clouding in the cold air.

  “No, we wanted to talk to you about an acquaintance of ours.” Jeff and Genghis stopped about ten feet from Billy Bourbon. “Jennifer.”

  Billy gave him a look of not understanding who he was talking about.

  “You might know her as Twinkie.”

  “Twinkie! Sure I know Twinkie,” Billy said, then broke out into a bigger grin. “Oh!” He smirked, “Your Twinkie’s Sugar Daddy, ain’t cha?” Billy looked up the road and saw the Thunderbird parked at the curb. “Sure you are! So, tell me, you sweet on her? What she do? Give you the trick of your life and now you in love with her?” He motioned with his head toward Genghis. “You guys have a three-way with your dog?”

  Jeff didn’t have a clue at what any of that meant, so he got to the point. “I just wanted to say one thing, Billy,” Trent calmly said. “Twinkie is no longer in your employ and does not owe you anything. So, starting right here, right now, you're to leave her alone. You don’t approach her, you don’t talk to her, you don’t go into Dave’s to see her. Am I making myself clear?”

  Billy Bourbon just stood there, surprised at the gall of this guy telling him what he could and couldn’t do with his people. “Now, I don’t know who the hell you are, buddy,” Billy said, “but where do you get off telling me what I can and can’t do? I mean . . . who the fuck are you?”

  “No, you're not understanding me,” Jeff continued. “I don’t care what you do with your depraved business or your pathetic life. I just want you to cut all ties you have with Twinkie.” Jeff paused for a second. “That’s all.”

  Trent and Billy stared at each other for a moment. “That's all huh?” Billy said. “If I got a dollar for every love-struck John that came to me about the bitch in my employ that he was a-fucking, I’d be a fucking millionaire!” Billy raised his voice. “Now I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. And that's nothing! I will talk to who I want when I want and I’m not gonna have some dick-head fuck tell me what to do.” Billy had been through this kind of altercation on several occasions. And each time the use of colorful adjectives and bravado usually worked to intimidate a John who thought he was in love.

  “This here no longer concerns you, buddy! So, why don’t you and your damn mutt just move on down the road and let me conduct my business the way I do.”

  Trent and Genghis didn’t respond. They just stood looking at Billy.

  Billy had had enough. “Okay, okay I see where this conversation is going mother fucker.” Billy quickly reached into his back pocket and pulled out a switchblade. He pushed the button on the side of the knife and a four-inch-long, razor sharp blade flipped out from the hilt. “First thing I’m gonna do,” Billy said, “is flay your dog and use him as a rug! Then, I'm gonna gut you like a fish for telling me how to run my business.” Billy took one intimidating step forward.

  Jeff grinned, looked down at Genghis, and said, “He’s got a pointy knife.” Genghis responded by making a ‘Hm’ sound through his nose. Jeff unholstered his PK30A and pointed it at Billy, which made him stop in his tracks.

  “What the hell kind of gun is that?” Billy said, starting to laugh. “Didn’t I see that in Star Wars? You get that at . . .” He waved the knife around, trying to think of the event. “At, at . . .Comic Con?” He took another step forward.

  Trent flipped the thumb indicator switch on the weapon to suppression and fired one shot. With a muffled burp the round struck the hilt of the knife exactly where Trent was aiming. The knife Billy was holding disengaged into three hot pieces with a loud crack.

  “Ow! What the fuck, man! Alright, alright, relax. We cool!” Jeff and Genghis walked up to Billy. “Alright, alright! I’ll leave her be. I was just messin' with her and giving her a hard time. I don’t really want anything to do with that uppity bitch anyway.”

  With a snarl Genghis clamped down on Billy’s right calf. “OW, man! Get ‘em off!”

  “You see Billy . . .” Jeff paused. “It was Billy, wasn’t it? You see, Billy, my human canine likes Twinkie.”

  “Your what? OWWW!” Genghis applied pressure. “Is this really necessary man?”

  “Like I said, Genghis really hates it when people say bad things about Twinkie.” Jeff reached up and placed the barrel of his PK30A hand gun against Billy’s forehead. Billy felt the warmth of the barrel. “From here on out, you will have no contact whatsoever with Twinkie. So, let me reiterate. You don’t talk to her, you don’t go into Dave's and bother her. You see her on the sidewalk, you cross the street. And she does not owe you any money. Nothing! Do we understand each other?” Genghis asserted more pressure to make their point clear.

  “Ahh, for shit sake man, Okay! Okay!”

  “Okay, what?”

  “Okay, I’ll leave her be and have nothing to do with her anymore.”

  Genghis released Billy. “Good.” Trent low
ered the PK. “I’m glad we were able to come to an agreement.” Jeff holstered his gun as he and Genghis turned from Billy and were about to walk away until Trent turned back and said, “Oh, Billy, one more thing.”

  “Yeah, what?” Billy said, rubbing his leg.

  Trent swung a right hook that connected with Billy’s face below his left eye that brought Billy to his knees. “And that, Mister Bourbon, is for calling Twinkie a bitch!”

  Chapter Sixty

  After his encounter with Jeff and Genghis, Billy got back into his apartment. He pulled a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and placed it on his swollen face. He stood there for a few seconds, then slammed the freezer door shut. He walked over to the counter where the radio sat and picked it up, keying the mic. “Bollar?” He angrily said into it. “Bollar, you there? Pick up!” He heard the mic key open on the other end.

  “Go ahead, Mr. Bourbon,” Bollar replied. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “Oh, I’ll tell you what the damn problem is. Why the hell didn’t you tell me that guy you wanted me to follow was a cop!”

  “And what makes you think he’s in law enforcement?”

  “I can smell a cop a mile out, man. And this one has a serious attitude problem.”

  “What did you do, Billy?” Bollar asked. “I told you not to confront him. Just watch.”

  “OH! The asshole confronted me,” Billy said. “He put a damn gun to my head!”

  “And did he ask you about me?”

  “Man! Get off your damn high horse, he didn’t even mention you. He was more concerned with that bitch Twinkie.”

  “But you didn’t mention me and he didn’t ask?”

  “No man! But you know, now that you be on the mend, I think our business together is done.”

  “Well of course, Billy I agree, but I still owe you for your time. I need to get out of this apartment anyway. Why don’t we meet this Friday by that big tree in the park? That way we can conclude our business.”