The Predator and The Prey

by K. C. Sivils

  I turned around and found the uniform responsible for the crime scene.

  “I want this entire neighborhood canvassed and don’t give me any guff about the fog keeping people from witnessing anything. That little girl had to have screamed. People might not look, but they can’t help but hear. I want all the CCTV pulled for me by 0800.”

  The uniform frowned but nodded, typing in my instructions on his tablet.

  “Have you called forensics?”

  “Sir,” he protested. “It’s starting to snow. They won’t be able to find anything.”

  “You idiot,” I muttered as I grabbed him by his collar. “Forensics might find something. The sooner they get here, the better chance they have. Did anybody teach you anything at the Academy?”

  I let go of him and gave him a shove. He glared back at me with a hate-filled stare, not that I cared.

  “What’s your name,” I looked at his insignia for his rank, “Sergeant?”

  “Bland,” he snapped back.

  “If you want to keep those stripes, do your job. And don’t for an instant think I won’t have those stripes yanked before your next duty shift,” I growled.

  The change in expression in his eyes told me Bland understood I wasn’t making a threat. I was informing him of what would happen if he screwed up again in my presence.

  Bland turned and walked away, calling for more officers to secure the scene and to rush a forensics unit.

  I walked to the edge of the alley where the victim was found and did my best to visualize the area. I gave up and used the infrared of my cybernetic eye. There wasn’t much heat but the variations of cold, or absence of heat at least, gave me a general idea of exactly where I was in the neighborhood.

  This little girl had to be one of the pickpockets.

  I didn’t want to, but I had to.

  I reached into the pocket of my greatcoat and pulled out my comm. I typed in the number Father Nathan had given me and waited. I won’t repeat what the good father said when he woke up.

  “Father, me, Sully. Stop yelling at me. Yes, I know what time it is.”

  I gave him a moment to collect himself mentally.

  “I wouldn’t have called you unless it was necessary. Not at this hour.”

  Silence filled the airwaves between the two comm devices.

  “I need to come see a body, don’t I,” he asked.

  “Yeah. I need you to tell me if you know the victim.”

  “YOU DID THE RIGHT THING insisting they come into the clinic,” the nurse said bluntly.

  “What’s wrong with them? They’re two of my best workers and my shift has had a run of bad luck this month. We’re short our quota but we can make it in the few days left. I need these guys down in the mine,” the foreman insisted.

  "You'll need to find two other workers then because these two are going into quarantine."

  The Foreman’s face paled instantly.

  “They have the cough?”

  “Early stages. Let’s hope these are the only two.”

  “But what about the preventative the planetary mining commission gives us? Shouldn’t that have kept them from catching it? There hasn’t been a case reported since they started with the daily dosage.”

  The nurse stared at the foreman.

  “You’re right. There shouldn’t be any problems. If the medicine they’ve been providing is the real stuff.”

  She watched as the color of the foreman’s face changed from pale white to a brooding red.

  “What are you implying Doc?”

  “I not implying anything. I’m telling you these two men shouldn’t be sick. The samples I took are not a mutation that’s adapted to the preventative. This is plain old-fashioned Miner’s Cough bacteria in its usual, virulent form. So you tell me. If the meds work, why do your men have it?"

  “Have you reported this to management Doc?”

  “Yes, but don’t hold your breath,” she replied. “If I were you, I’d call the Alliance Health Service. You might have a better chance with them than management.”

  “Yeah, right,” the foreman grunted. He looked up at the nurse and thought for a moment.

  "Doc, if I can get a cop down here, will you show 'em the test results and explain this?"

  He watched as she considered it.

  “Get them here in twelve hours. After that, I have to file my reports and send the lab work and specimens to the Miner’s Commission. You know what will happen then.”

  “Doc, if the meds are bad, there’ll be a huge outbreak. You remember the last one? Hundreds of us died before they did anything. It spread into the regular population, our families.”

  "Then you better find a cop within the next twelve hours. I'll do my best with your miners. It's early in the infection cycle, so they have a good chance."

  “Isn’t there anyway you can make the Commission do anything Doc?”

  "If I try too hard, they'll transfer me. Then who will take care of the others when they get sick because we both know there will be others. I’m the only nurse practitioner left who has any experience and immunity to the Cough.”

  She watched as the foreman considered the ramifications of the return of the disease.

  “Why don’t they take care of us? We make them enough money. Beta Prime is doing better. Capital City is growing. Doc, you’d think they wouldn’t want this to happen again.”

  “You find a cop. I’ll see if I can get some samples of the meds and do an analysis. Just don’t say anything to anyone, okay? If this is just misfortune, it’s bad enough. But if the meds are faulty, whoever is behind it will come down hard and try to cover up whatever needs covering up. We both know that from experience.”

  The foreman nodded at the nurse thoughtfully and turned to go. She shut the door to the clinic behind her and locked it before sitting down at her desk. She held her hands out in front of her and watched as they shook uncontrollably. It would take a bit of time before she stopped shaking enough to be able to go and collect samples from the preventative meds given to the miners before each shift.

  MY COMM BUZZED ITS annoying buzz. I checked it. Markeson. I ignored it.

  “I’m sure it’s not Anna, the girl I told you about,” Father Nathan insisted. “But from what I can tell from what’s left of her face, she looks like Anna. She’s smaller too. Sully, they might be sisters.”

  The cold air drafting down the alley made me shiver. If the victim had an older sister, this Anna, it was unlikely she would be working alone. Pickpockets usually worked in teams. If this was true...

  “Father Nathan, can you find this boy, Toby? I need to know if the victim had a sister.”

  He looked at me with growing concern.

  “You think this animal has her sister, don’t you!”

  I didn't say anything. I didn't need to. Father Nathan disappeared into the swirling grayish fog to search for the boy Toby.

  COVERING HIS EYES, the man walked toward the building, pausing to brush the snow and ice from his coat before entering. Gathering his courage, he straightened himself to his full height and entered the police headquarters.

  Slowly he made his way toward the desk where a large, graying female sergeant sat. Her facial expression giving the impression she felt she was holding court like a monarch instead of manning the desk in a police station.

  She glared at the man as he approached. Upon stopping he watched as she curled the left corner of her upper lip up as she scanned him from his feet to his head and back again.

  “What do you want?” the imperial desk sergeant snarled.

  “I need to see a detective.”

  "Sure you do," the empress replied sarcastically. "Tell me what it is you're here for and I'll tell you if it's worth wasting one of our detective's time or not."

  “I’d rather not,” the man replied stiffly.

  “Well, then you need to leave.”

  “I don’t think so,” the man snapped back.

  “You do realize this is a
police station,” the empress snarled, annoyed at the man’s failure to do as she ordered. “I can have you thrown out, arrested even.”

  "No you can't," the man replied with authority, startling the sergeant. She examined him a second time, noticing his demeanor conveyed power. Authority she had not expected given the man's dirty work clothes.

  “Now, are you going to see if there is a detective available or do I need to see your supervisor?”

  Defeated, the empress decided she could at least inconvenience the man while she made her tactical retreat.

  “Why don’t you take a seat,” she groused, pointing at the uncomfortable looking plastic benches located against the wall. “I’ll see if anyone is available.”

  The foreman watched as the sergeant made her way back toward the work area occupied by the detectives. He grinned at the dirty glare she shot him as she turned the corner and disappeared from view. He gave her two minutes and then stood and followed.

  A uniformed officer approached, reading from a tablet, oblivious to the foreman’s approach.

  “Hey, can you point me in the direction of where the detectives work? I’m supposed to meet one here and there’s nobody at the front desk.”

  The officer frowned and shook his head.

  “Not surprised. Let me show you.”

  The foreman followed the officer who led him to the area where the detective’s cubicles were located.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” the officer replied. “Happy to be able to help.”

  A quick glance revealed the sergeant was nowhere to be seen. Nor were any detectives around either.

  “She couldn’t have been telling the truth,” the foreman muttered.

  “Who couldn’t have been telling the truth?”

  Startled, the foreman spun around quickly, his fists clinched by his side.

  "Easy, sir," Josephson said evenly. "Didn't mean to startle you. It's just civilians are not allowed back here with out an escort."

  The foreman silently examined the young detective, not overly impressed by what he saw.

  “Are you a detective?”

  “Yes. Detective Sergeant Mark Josephson.”

  “Oh.”

  “I take it I’m not what you expected.”

  “No. Not to be rude, but you’re a bit young.”

  Josephson shrugged, not wanting to argue with the man.

  “I’m the only detective here at the moment. My partner is at a crime scene. The rest are out following up leads, that sort of thing. Can I help you?”

  Josephson moved to his desk, motioning at a chair positioned by the edge of the desk as he sat down.

  The foreman shrugged, wondering again if he was taking too big of a chance. Images of the sick miners and their dying children flashed in his mind and he swallowed. He couldn't go through that again.

  “Is your partner older, a bit more experienced,” the foreman asked.

  Hiding his frustration, Josephson nodded in silence.

  "I'm sure you're a good cop, I mean making detective at your age an all, but what I have to report frightens me. It frightens me a lot. It's not personal. I just would feel better if I could talk to someone closer to my age."

  “I understand,” Josephson replied, not meaning it. “My partner will be here in a couple of hours. You can talk to him then if you would like to wait.”

  The foreman thought for a moment before replying.

  “No, I think I’ll leave my number with you. Would you have your partner call me when he gets back? It’s urgent. What I have to tell won’t mean anything after 0200 today.”

  Josephson frowned at the man as he slid an old-fashioned notepad and pencil across his desk to the man.

  “Are you certain you don’t want to talk to me?”

  “Yes,” the foreman replied. “But tell your partner lives are at stake, including my own.”

  “Very well, I’ll give him the message as soon as he gets here.”

  “Thank you,” the foreman replied, handing back the pad with his comm number written down. “What is your partner’s name if you don’t mind?”

  Josephson sighed before replying.

  “Inspector Thomas Sullivan.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I WAITED AS PATIENTLY as I could for the good Father to arrive. I’m not a patient man. Freezing cold and fog doesn’t help matters either. I watched as the forensics team did their job in the cold. My temper was flaring and the waiting wasn’t helping. I’d reamed out the first forensics tech that arrived about his attitude.

  He didn’t feel overly motivated to do a thorough job in the cold of the early morning for a street urchin. When I was done adjusting his motivational level the other techs had arrived. I was happy to see they were properly motivated to do a good job without my raising my blood pressure again.

  I heard Bland talking behind me at the entrance to the alleyway. I turned to see Father Nathan talking with the Sergeant while holding a juvenile male by the scruff of his neck.

  “Sergeant, it’s okay. Let the Father and kid through.”

  Bland nodded and lifted the crime scene tape. Father Nathan walked through, dragging the recalcitrant youth behind him.

  “Inspector Sullivan, this is Toby. He’s a pickpocket.”

  “Hey now Father, don’t go casting dispersions where none are necessary. Especially when a cop’s around,” the boy protested.

  I gave Toby a good once over. There was no doubt in my mind the good Father was telling me the truth. He had the look of a career criminal, albeit a young one. Probably had not had much of a choice if he wound up on the street at a young age.

  “I need you to identify someone for me so we can move the body to the morgue. Think you’re up to it?”

  Toby’s dirty face went pale. He swallowed hard and blinked, the hard look of a tough street kid returning in an instant.

  “Yeah, I’m up to it,” he announced gruffly. “I’ve seen dead bodies before. It ain’t no big thing.”

  I looked at Father Nathan. He nodded, silence promising me he would care for the boy.

  “Follow me.”

  I walked over to the gurney in the alley, obscured by the fog from visibility to anyone, not within ten feet. Lying on the gurney covered with a white cloth was the victim. I took the cloth in my left hand and looked back at Toby and the priest.

  “You ready?”

  "Yeah, hurry up. It's cold and the priest here promised me breakfast. I got a busy day ahead of me," Toby said defiantly, more to bolster his confidence than anything else I surmised.

  I pulled the white cloth back and revealed the victim's face. For the second time in less than a minute, Toby's face turned pale white. He didn't say a word or make a sound as tears began to roll uncontrollably down his dirty cheeks. He looked up at me and then at Father Nathan.

  “That’s Lucy. Anna’s little sister,” he sobbed.

  “You know her?”

  “She’s part of my gang. We work this part of town.”

  “Where’s her sister, son,” Father Nathan asked gently.

  “I don’t know. They didn’t come home last night. Our boss man was furious cuz they weren’t there to divvy up the day’s take. He beat all of us. You just don’t skip out on payday.”

  I looked at the confessed thief and made a note to myself to find out just who this boss man was and pay him a visit in the middle of the night. By myself.

  “Were you concerned when Anna and Lucy didn’t show up?”

  “Sort of,” Toby admitted. “Mainly I was pissed cuz I figured they’d had a really good day and wanted to hold back their take. I mean, sometimes we get so hungry we all skim a little on a really good day. You know, so you can get something to eat extra or maybe pay for a night in a hostel to stay warm for once. But if you hold back your entire take, the rest of us get a beating. I was worried cuz I knew Anna would never do that. Lucy though, she didn’t look out for no one but herself. She hardly even looked out for Anna and the
y was blood, you know? Sisters.”

  I pulled the cloth back, covering Lucy’s battered face. Toby didn’t need to see what else the Cowboy had done to her.

  “Where’s Anna,” Toby asked.

  “We don’t know. But we’re going to find her. I promise.”

  “Sure you are. Cops never look out for street kids. We’re just garbage mixed in with all the dirty snow and ice on the street. That’s all we are to you cops. Garbage,” he shouted, wiping his tears, leaving streaks in the dirt on his face.

  “Toby, go wait with the Sergeant over there for a minute.”

  I watched the angry youth pull his jacket up and shift it, giving himself a renewed appearance of a tough, street-smart kid. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his coat a final time, gave me a hateful glare for good measure and sauntered over to wait by Bland.

  “He knows more than he’s telling.”

  “Inspector, Toby’s sweet on the older sister, Anna. I imagine he’s pretty confused at the moment. That’s not a pretty sight for anyone to see.”

  “How do you know these kids?”

  Father Nathan sighed. “I’ll spare you the details of my life, but let’s say part of my calling is getting kids like these off the streets. I make it my business to know the street urchins in every parish I serve in. I caught Toby and Anna picking pockets, mine actually. I promised them a warm breakfast every Friday morning at Joe’s so long as they had nobody else’s property in their pockets.”

  “And how did that go?”

  “Toby never showed up but Anna did last Friday. It takes time to build trust.”

  “And warm food in a public place doesn’t hurt I suppose.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Look, he isn’t going to trust me and I get it. Think you can find him when I need to talk to him again?”

  “I’ll make sure of it,” Father Nathan replied grimly.

  "Good. Why don't you get the boy that breakfast he mentioned. Don’t ask him anything, but listen carefully to everything he says, who he watches, anything. Tell me later. It might be important. Can you do that?”