The Predator and The Prey

by K. C. Sivils

“I’ll stay with them. Go to Joe’s. Ralph will take you from there.”

  Father Nathan simply nodded. Alice wasn’t going to tell him anything else. He introduced her to the children and grabbed his jacket and coat. He hurried as he walked the now familiar route to Joe’s restaurant.

  Police hover cars were visible in the distance about two blocks from Joe's. Standing in front in the cold was Ralph, waiting for him just as Alice had promised.

  “Good morning Ralph. Alice said you needed me?”

  “Not really, but some other people do.”

  "Ralph, Alice was obviously upset when she got to the church, so I didn't press her. Now that I'm here, I'd like to know what is going on."

  “They found a body.”

  Father Nathan didn’t wait for more information. He broke into a trot toward the police hover cars. Not noticing a new patch of ice on the walkway, he slipped and fell only to recover quickly. With renewed urgency, the priest broke into a jog. Ralph walked quickly, clearly not in as big a hurry to reach the now apparent crime scene as the priest was.

  Watching the perimeter of the crime scene was a female officer. She watched the priest approach and stepped away from the crime scene perimeter markers as he neared.

  “Are you the local priest?”

  “Yes, officer. I have just been informed a body was found?”

  “I’m afraid so Father. We were told you might have known the victim. That you work with some of the local street kids.”

  Her comments chilled the priest. He knew who would be identifying.

  “One of the children I’ve been trying to help is missing. Her younger sister was found dead earlier.”

  The officer nodded in silence and turned off the laser barrier of the crime scene long enough for Father Nathan to step through. He made his way over to the officers processing the crime scene. The coroner’s office had yet to arrive. The body was lying on the ground beneath a standard police shroud. Father Nathan lifted the shroud and stared in silence for a moment.

  He gently lowered the cover and stepped back, glancing skywards at the overcast sky, blocking the sun’s rays. His face turned red with emotion as he stood looking skywards. The police watching the priest thought he was saddened by what he had just seen.

  They would not have been surprised to learn Father Nathan was praying. The cops would be surprised to learn he was praying for forgiveness for what he planned to do if he could get his hands on the animal that had tortured and killed Anna.

  A gentle touch on his elbow brought him back to the immediate present. He glanced at his arm and realized the female cop had touched him. “Father, do you know the girl?”

  “Her name was Anna. I don’t know her last name. It was her sister Lucy who was found near this area. She was a member of a gang of pickpockets that works this area. I’ve been working to help these kids find a way to get off the street, to get back on the right path.”

  “I’m sorry Father.” The cop looked at him with sadness in her eyes. “Father, this isn’t all.”

  “What,” he exclaimed. “There’s another body?”

  “No, a boy was hit by a hover car. A cabbie who lives around here said you would know him.”

  “It must be Toby,” Father Nathan sighed. “The rest of the gang spent the night in the dormitory at the parish church. He’s the leader.”

  "He was taken to the local hospital. An officer will be with him. It would help us if you could identify him. We can take your statement regarding Anna later."

  Father Nathan nodded.

  “Yes, I’d appreciate that. If Toby is alive, I’d like to see him. Help him in any way I can. As for Anna,” the priest said sadly, nodding in the direction of her still body, “I will do whatever you ask. Help in the investigation anyway I can.”

  Without another word Father Nathan turned and hurried toward the crime scene perimeter. Waiting for him was Ralph. The female cop followed and turned off the perimeter laser to allow him through.

  “It was Anna,” Father Nathan told Ralph. “Can you take me to St. Christus, I believe that is the local hospital. There was a hit and run.”

  “Yeah, Father, I know. It’s that kid who’s the gang leader of the band of pickpockets. C’mon.” Ralph motioned for the priest to follow him. “It’s parked right over here. I’ll have you at the hospital in a flash.

  The pair hurried through the light snow that had just begun falling. Ralph unlocked the hover car and opened the back door for Father Nathan to get in. Seconds later the engine was roaring as Ralph pulled out into the street and sped toward the entrance to the hover way that would take them to St. Christus Hospital.

  In the back, Father Nathan eased his comm from his pocket and entered Sullivan's number. Using his thumb, he typed in a short message and hit send. He closed his eyes, struggling to compose himself before arriving at the hospital.

  CHIEF O'BRIAN WAS RELIEVED Markeson had kept his mouth shut during the ride over to the capitol building. The meeting he’d been summoned to worried him. It was one thing to handle small issues and make them go away for important people. People with power and money. It was an entirely different matter to railroad what he was starting to think was a competent police officer to cover up crimes committed by the rich and powerful.

  Markeson clearly had no qualms about the ethics of what was about to happen. The more O'Brian thought about it; he realized Markeson had no ethics. So long as he came out on top, Markeson was happy.

  O'Brian had agreed with Markeson that Sullivan would make a good fall guy for the many problems the police had in Capital City. His Chief of Detectives had convinced him if they handled things the right way, the blame for most things that were wrong would fall on Sullivan. Make all their troubles go away. When the Interplanetary Alliance Inspector General showed up again to audit their police force, the finger would be pointed at Sullivan.

  At the time, looking at the ramifications of the last review and inspection and knowing he would receive the blame for not cleaning up the corruption and incompetence, O'Brian had let Markeson talk him into his scheme to blame Sullivan for whatever the next IG visit turned up.

  Markeson pulled up in the part of the building where valet service was offered for the politicians and got out. He looked back at O’Brian and frowned.

  “You coming?”

  “I never park here. I park where I’m supposed to. In the area reserved for civil servants.”

  "Whatever," Markeson scoffed. "You want to ship out with the big starliners; you got to fly with them."

  Without looking back, Markeson headed for the entrance. He nodded at the guard who opened the door without asking for ID and entered. O’Brian noted the guard’s seemingly simple oversight. Markeson came here on a regular basis.

  O'Brian took his time approaching the entrance. He watched the guard carefully.

  “Sir, may I see some ID?”

  “You let that man in without ID.”

  Promptly a scowl appeared on the guard’s face.

  “I said, ID.”

  O'Brian reached opened his great coat and reached inside his jacket. Slowly he pulled his ID and badge out, allowing the guard to examine both in detail.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t realize you were the Chief of Police.”

  “I’m going to ask you again officer. Why did you let that man in without showing ID?”

  “Sir, Detective Markeson is the Chief of Detectives.”

  “I’m the Chief of Police for the entire planet! Now answer my question!”

  Unsure how to respond, the officer looked about furtively, trying to think of an out to his predicament.

  O’Brian felt his anger growing. It had been a long time since he had publically ripped an officer. He didn’t like doing it and didn’t want to do it now.

  "Last chance officer," he growled in a low voice. "As it is," O'Brian squinted to read the officer's nametag, Officer Dimitrivitz, you are going on report for failure to follow basic security procedures, inabilit
y to obey the direct order of a superior officer and whatever else I feel like adding later. If you don't answer my question, you'll be on traffic, walking a beat in the freezing cold writing tickets for illegally parked hover cars, with NO HOPE of ever getting a change of duty. Have I made myself clear?”

  From the expression on the officer's face, O'Brian was confident he'd made his point.

  “Detective Markeson is a regular visitor to see the Governor and the Mayor.”

  “How regular?”

  “Several times a week, sir.”

  “Does Markeson ever bring visitors with him?”

  If Dimitrivitz had been nervous and uncomfortable before, his misery index was off the screen now.

  “I see. He brings visitors.”

  Dimitrivitz nodded quickly.

  “Female, male? Others?”

  “Sometimes females,” Dimitrivitz finally squeaked out. “Sometimes important people.”

  “Like who?”

  “That Devereaux guy. The one who owns mines and the shipping companies.”

  Before O'Brian could ask another question, the door opened, and Markeson stuck his head out.

  “Chief, you love the cold or something? C’mon, we’re going to be late to the meeting and trust me, we don’t want to be late to this one.”

  O’Brian didn’t say another word but stood glaring at the officer. Markeson shrugged and headed back inside, allowing the door to close behind him.

  “Our conversation did not happen if anyone asks,” O’Brian hissed softly. “The report will be written but not put in your file. You say one word about this, and you won’t even be in Capital City to freeze walking a traffic beat.”

  Dimitrivitz nodded in understanding. O’Brian entered the building and headed toward the elevator tubes. Markeson hadn’t bothered to wait for him. He began to wonder if Sullivan wasn’t the only one Markeson was setting up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  JOSEPHSON SAT IN THE subway station, watching people pass. Disappointed Sullivan had told him to take a couple of days off and stay out of sight, he'd decided to lay low in plain sight. In passing, Sullivan had told him watching people was a good exercise for a detective. It sharpened your skills of observation, and you learned to read people better.

  He’d braved the cold of the station and sat down on a bench and watched for nearly an hour. So far his favorite observation had been the young couple. She was spoiling for a fight based on the annoyed expression on her face. He was clueless, happy about something and strolling along. When the girl had ambushed him with her emotional outburst, he'd been completely surprised.

  It was an embarrassing scene for the young man, and his body language screamed he was innocent of whatever his girlfriend had accused him. As the irate female stormed off, Josephson smiled at the other male's discomfort. Probably guilty of just being male and not paying attention he thought.

  A local pulled to a stop, and the doors of the coaches pulled open. Watching the passengers depart, Josephson searched for interesting individuals. The sound of racking coughs got his attention. He scanned the crowd and spotted a group of workers dressed in clothes typical of miners. One of the men suddenly stopped and covered his mouth and started coughing. The others stopped and looked on. A second miner started coughing.

  Alarmed, Josephson stood and made his way over to the group of men. He waited for the pair to stop coughing before approaching, pulling out his badge and ID as he did so. The two miners stopped coughing and stood up straight again. Josephson noticed all of the miners, six men and a woman, looked paler than normal, even for a miner.

  “Excuse me. I’m Detective Sergeant Josephson,” he said, holding up his ID and badge for the miners to see. “Would you mind telling me which mine y’all work for?”

  The woman looked at the other miners, concern showing on her face. She swallowed nervously and looked back at Josephson.

  “Schlesinger Corporation Number Two Mine. Is there a problem officer?”

  JOE SAT IN HIS OFFICE. It had been a long time since he'd found himself in a moral quandary like the one he was currently in. Sullivan had put him in this uncomfortable spot, and he was not happy about it. It wasn't Sullivan's fault really, and Joe knew it.

  Information. That was all Sullivan had asked for, just something to help him unravel what was going on. Sullivan had no idea what he was asking Joe to do, to open Pandora's Box possibly. Not that Sullivan cared and Joe knew that. In the short time he'd known the Inspector Joe had quickly learned this was a man who would not relent. Either he could point Sullivan in the right direction and step back, safe in the shadows, or Sullivan would dig like a hungry ice rat until he found something. In the meantime, innocent miners would die.

  Joe sighed out loud. He made the decision he knew all along he would make. A hint. An address. Anonymously at that, but no more. After that, it was up to Sullivan to figure things out.

  “THIS HAS TO STOP,” the Governor repeated.

  O’Brian watched in silence, observing the faces of the men in the room. Governor Rankin was on the verge of an angry outburst. Mayor Xue sat in silence, a stoic expression on his face, typical of his Asian-Earth ancestors. The only sign the Mayor was anxious was the rapidly beating pulse barely visible as the silk collar of his shirt covered most of his throat.

  Markeson seemed amused by everything and wasn't doing anything to try to hide his amusement. Devereaux, the arrogant billionaire, was pacing back and forth, barely able to control his emotions.

  Deveraux stopped and pointed first at O’Brian and then Markeson. “We pay the two of you to make sure things don’t get like this!”

  Markeson laughed. “No, you pay me to clean these things up when YOU screw up. I didn’t replace the entire load of melanothorazine with placebos and cause an outbreak of miner’s cough. Matter of fact, it was one of you who got greedy and did that.”

  “I did no such thing,” Devereaux screamed, causing Rankin and Yoon to start. Blood rushed to the enraged businessman’s face, turning it a dark red. The blood vessels in his neck strained against his collar while his eyes bulged. He leaned over slightly and took several threatening steps toward Markeson.

  “You will clean this up! Never, and I mean never, tell me what I have and have not done,” Devereaux threatened. “But just in case you’re wondering, it wasn’t me.”

  "No, but it'll be your ships that smuggle the meds off planet, making you, even more, money in the transaction," Markeson said, the smile gone from his face.

  Silence filled the room, making O’Brian anxious to leave, to escape the unpleasant situation he found himself in.

  "You people caused this mess," Markeson said flatly with a slightly ominous tone. "As per usual, the police of this planet will "serve and protect" your interests. It is a good thing Sullivan shot your drug-addled smuggler first thing when he set foot on the station. Now we have cause to get rid of him using Internal Affairs. It's a shame too, the Chief and I had big plans to pin all kinds of things on Sullivan.”

  “How hard will it be to get a finding against Sullivan,” Governor Rankin asked.

  “It was a clean shoot,” O’Brian found himself replying.

  “Clean? Whatever,” Markeson laughed. “Sullivan endangered the life of Mr. Devereaux’s beloved daughter. He was not yet on duty. We’ll find something to make him go away.”

  O’Brian watched as the expression on Devereaux’s face changed at the mention of his daughter. Something was odd about the man’s response to Markeson’s sarcastic remark.

  I WAS EXHAUSTED. I hadn’t had the nightmare in a long time, well, a couple of weeks at least. And then she showed up out of nowhere. Reminding me of how I’d failed. The failure that had caused me to become a pariah in the Alliance Police Force and led to my being shipped to one troubled planet after another to clean up some other cops mess.

  The urge to go to Joe’s and bury myself in a bottle was nearly overwhelming. If something didn’t give soon, I just might not be able to re
sist the urge. Not that getting drunk and staying drunk would solve anything. But it would let me forget for a bit.

  Father Nathan had identified Anna’s body, adding to the Cowboy’s total. Toby was in the hospital as a result of a hit and run. I’d let down my new friend because I couldn’t catch this predator. Making matters worse, the mining foreman who’d tipped me off about the stolen meds was dead as well.

  I had my doubts about the brand and the dead foreman. It could be a simple ploy to divert attention from the real killer. Among other issues I had to deal with, there was a leak in the department. Someone had slipped the media several images of the brand the Cowboy left on his victims.

  A blast of cold wind hit me in the face, making me stop and look around. I’d been walking for hours and had no idea where I was. Trying to forget did that to me sometimes.

  How could I forget the serial killer who murdered all those young girls on New Jupiter? How he had killed the dancer I'd fallen for. The same dancer who had miraculously fallen for a hideously scared ex-military police officer. How could I forget I’d had the monster in custody and a mistake on my part, a computer error, had let the monster get released as a result.

  It was happening again, and it was my fault. The evidence just wasn’t there for me to get a grasp on who this monster was. I knew he was smart. The killings took place where there was either no CCTV or the cameras had been disabled. There were never any prints or any other type of forensic evidence. All of our modern equipment was useless.

  I knew he was evolving. These murders had been going on for over a year. That I’d learned going through the files I’d downloaded. That made me suspicious as well. O’Brian might be bent, but he wasn’t stupid. Markeson was bent for certain, but he was sharp. Both would have figured out a serial was working in Capital City.

  Markeson. He was the type who might look the other way if the price was right. That is if the serial predator had connections to the right people.

  I felt better immediately. Predators as violent as the Cowboy evolved, learned to hide their tracks. But usually, they were messy early in their spree. Having a cop handle the evidence, make it go away would be worth a fair sum of credits.