Killing a Snitch: The first of the Christopher Aiden Mysteries

by Brian Bradford

  He saw a security guard sitting in a booth. The guard was there to prevent people like him from invading the sanctuary but the guard had his face in a crossword puzzle. Blinds dropped his head and walked past the booth. He saw the detective entering the undergraduate library and he stopped short. He hid and peered behind a tree. Blinds watched her look over her shoulder before entering the building. He came from behind the tree and started toward the library.

  He was shocked shitless when he heard a man say, “Mr. Coles.”.

  The only people who used a title before his name were authority figures - mostly his former school principals, police officers, and prosecutors. He was unnerved, and his instincts told him to start running, the voice sounded familiar and he was curious. He turned and saw the man who had been sitting in the security booth. It was Detective Christopher Aiden.

  “Detective Aiden.”

  “Mr. Coles, we’re both lucky I guess.”

  “How so?”

  “Our other witness recanted and well, as it turns out, we need your testimony after all.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “And then I bump into you. You still want the deal? You want to walk on the airport thing? Because I need to close this case as soon as possible.”

  “Yeah, sure. I want the deal.”

  “Cool. let's go down to the station and make this happen. We can ride in my car.”

  And that’s when Blinds took off running. Aiden chased him across the yard, past Frederick Douglass Hall and around Crampton Auditorium. It had been years since Aiden had to chase a suspect. He was not the young gun he used to be. He was exhausted and Blinds was widening the distance between them. Blinds was running like a professional criminal who stayed in shape just for times like this. Aiden saw the smuggler glance over his shoulder and smirk before getting into another gear and sprint down a street toward the campus’s exit.

  Just as Blinds passed Cook Hall an undercover dressed as a frat boy stole Blinds in the face and knocked him to the ground. Six undercover cops dressed as students started beating him.

  As they beat him, they shouted, “Why are you following Detective Taylor?” and “What the fuck you think you doing?”

  Blinds heard a student say, “Damn, this nigga is pledging the old school way!”

  A winded Detective Christopher Aiden walked slowly to the beating and finally said, “Ok, boys. That’s enough.”

  Detective Taylor ran past Aiden and started walloping on Blinds. “Whoa Taylor!” Aiden grabbed her and pulled her away. An undercover officer held her back. Aiden kneeled down and said, “ Maurice Coles, you have the right to remain silent.”

  Blinds cursed and spat the entire time Aiden read him his Miranda Rights. The officers handcuffed him tight and yanked him up off of the ground. Blinds tried to play dumb. “How the fuck you gon’ arrest somebody just to make me testify?”

  “I’m arresting you for murder.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Nope. I didn’t kill nobody. I smuggled a little coke.”

  Aiden grabbed him by the arm and led him back across the campus. Students gawked, unashamed. Some even pointed and laughed. The undercovers followed them closely, giving Blinds threatening looks. Blinds ignored them all.

  “Why were you following my partner? Why would a high school dropout with no GED be on Howard University’s campus? You were following my partner.”

  “Nigger, I came up here to read some shit about my motherfuckin’ case.”

  “You came up here to kill a witness. You were never gonna get away with it. You went from a five--year bid to Life without the Possibility of Parole.”

  “Fuck you. I’m a mule for a kingpin drug dealer. You want me to give him up? No problem. I don’t like the nigga anyway.”

  “I couldn't care less about two kilos of cocaine or who’s a kingpin and who’s a jackass. I’m murder police[5] and you sir, are a killer.”

  “I didn’t kill nobody, stupid!”

  “I went back to the scene of the crime, but you had already been there.”

  “I ain’t been back to that raggedy ass barber shop since Six Hands was shot in there.”

  Aiden stopped. He looked Blinds in his eyes and said, “Did you forget about the little old lady who saw you kidnap Fats Harrington?”

  Blinds squinted his eyes to let Aiden know he hated him. Aiden started walking him again.

  “You made a lot of mistakes. Three big ones. You were desperate and dumb, so you kidnapped Fats Harrington in front of a witness. You took him to the barbershop and shot him,” Aiden stopped and looked Blinds in his eyes again. “But you didn’t kill him.”

  Blinds wanted to believe the detective was lying but wasn't sure

  “Then, about an hour later you returned with Moochie Grant. You shot him, too. And actually killed him. But then again, you made another crucial mistake.”

  Blinds tried to hide his emotions. He was confused and his mind was racing. He couldn't take the suspense. “What?”

  “You put the gun in Moochie Grant’s paralyzed hand.”

  The end

  Epilogue

  D etective Melissa Taylor was on the phone at her desk. “Listen, Candace, the man you saw was not arrested,” she said. “Okay? You gave me information on a man named Terrance Stone. You saw him kill William Johnson. However, Terrance Stone is not under arrest. He’s dead. You only get the money if your information leads to an arrest. Do you understand?

  “Yes, you helped us. Thank you,” Taylor continued. “I know...I know...Candace, you’re not getting the money. Your information did not lead to an arrest. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

  Detective Christopher Aiden had his man. Maurice “Blinds” Coles sat handcuffed to a table in front of him. Aiden thought back to the first time he interviewed the shifty smuggler in the barbershop the day before. He had learned a lot about him and the two people he killed but he still had just as many questions. He would be polite, patient and methodical as he laid out his evidence and theory before asking the Blinds to confess to two murders. Just before he could get started.

  Detective Taylor barged in the room. “Aiden, I need to speak with you.”

  Aiden couldn’t hide his surprise.

  “Now,” she said.

  “I’ll be right back,” Aiden said. He followed Taylor out of the Interrogation Room. THey walked down a long hallway together. She looked at her shoes.

  “It’s none of my business, but did you sell your car for cash?”

  “It’s a long story. But yea, Caleb needed tuition money yesterday, so--”

  “So you sold the Porsche?”

  They had reached the bullpen. All of the detectives turned and stared at Aiden after Taylor’s question. When he didn’t answer they turned back to the wall-mounted television they had been glued to before he arrived.

  “You didn’t tell Gillespie about Fats Harrington and Moochie Grant?” Taylor asked.

  “No, he isn’t answering his cell phone,” Aiden said. “Why?”

  “Did you tell Brooks?”

  “No, Brooks runs his mouth too much. Why?”

  Taylor pointed to the television. One of the detectives used a remote to turn up the volume. “Because I guess Mayor Brown thought the 10 o’clock news would be a perfect place to announce we have an arrest.”

  “Oh no.”

  Mayor Brown was standing in front of a podium downtown with Sgt. Gillespie and Det. Brooks. “Yesterday, our city lost one of our native sons,” Mayor Brown said. “William Six Hands” Johnson, a world champion and a local hero, was taken from us in an act of senseless violence and brazen cowardice. The brave men and women of the Metropolitan Police Department worked tirelessly and thoroughly to bring his killer to justice quickly.

  “In less than 24 hours, this dangerous criminal was identified and pursued until he took his own life this morning as police were closing in on him. We owe a debt of gratitude to D
etective Branson Brooks here for his diligence in investigating this crime.”

  The mayor pointed to Brooks and he nodded with fake modesty.

  “It’s because of detectives like this one that crime is down and steadily dropping,” Mayor Brown said. “Most crooks know they can't commit a crime in this city and get away with it anymore. DC don’t stand for Dodge City!”

  A reporter raised her hand. “Ms. Lopez,” Brown said.

  “Mayor Brown, what about the man who was found murdered in that same barbershop an hour ago?”

  “Say what?” Mayor Brown and Deputy Chief Gillespie said simultaneously.

  “Do you have anything to say about the murder of Moochie Grant or the shooting of your friend Lamont ‘Fats’ Harrington? You were planning a fundraiser at his club this month. Have you talked to Mr. Harrington since he’s been hospitalized?”

  Mayor Brown looked at Deputy Chief Gillespie. Gillespie looked at Det. Brooks. Brooks