Mendez Genesis

by Edward Hancock II

  “Good Ol’ Charlie” she whispered, as she bent down to pick up her morning paper. Even with it still folded, and wrapped tightly in the translucent plastic bag, she could read enough of the headline to know she had made the front page for the 3rd day in a row.

  “Oh well,” she grunted, as she stood upright. “At least they moved me down to the side bar today.”

  As she stood, she noticed her neighbor out getting her paper as well. She thought her name was Tina, but she didn’t know for sure. She had checked the car’s registration once and saw that it was registered to a Tina Miles at that address. She hoped that was Tina and not some stranger taking over her life.

  Without really thinking she raised her hand and waved in Tina’s direction. Tina reciprocated, even smiled, she thought.

  “Well, good” Lisa snickered to herself. “At least if she’s a body snatcher she’s a friendly body snatcher.”

  She turned and went back inside. As she made it into the foyer, she heard her telephone ringing. Who could it be, she thought.

  She bolted to the phone, not wanting her answering machine to pick up, alarming anyone who knew she was supposed to be stuck at home today.

  “Hello?” she huffed, half out of breath from her 3 foot sprint.

  “Hey! Lisa girl!” It was Alex. Her partner and probably her closest friend.

  “Hey Alex,” she said. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

  “I’m at the office,” he confirmed “I just had a few minutes and thought I’d call to say hi.”

  “Oh,” she said, hoping desperately he didn’t have a hidden camera somewhere, zooming in on the smile growing across her face.

  “So, whatcha got planned for your day off, you little stinker, you?”

  “Stinker? Hey! I resent that!” she laughed “You think I want this day off? Quite the contrary, old man! I’d rather be out there busting bad guys with you.”

  “You’ll be back soon enough,” he assured her. “My bud in I.A. told me that the entire investigation is nothing but a bunch of bureaucratic bull to cover the department’s proverbial posterior in case that stupid gang banger’s buddies decide they want to sue. They aren’t even accusing you of anything. In fact, there’s really nothing keeping you from working, except that stupid 5 day suspension rule. Five bucks says you get a call today.”

  “Ugh!” she growled “Don’t tease me.”

  “Tell ya what,” Alex said. “I’ve got to run over to Star Club for a while. I might just stop by your place and give you the lowdown when I’m done. That way you can step right into the investigation when you get back. How’s that sound?”

  “Star? What business you got at Star Club?” Lisa asked. “Aren’t they closed this time of day anyway You slummin’ again, Old man?”

  “Well,” he laughed. “Normally they are closed, yeah.”

  “But?”

  “Well, I’ll fill you in when I know more, but apparently there was a homicide there last night.”

  “A what!?”

  “Yep. Multiples, from what I hear. It’s all over the morning paper, Kid. Haven’t you read it yet?”

  “Oh, well, uh” She stammered “You kinda caught me coming in from the driveway. I haven’t had a chance to read the paper yet.”

  “Well, it must be pretty bad. Graveyard shift had blues there in droves. Jimenez told me that the coroner had to make two trips to remove the bodies.”

  Stunned silence.

  “Well, look kiddo.” Alex continued “I gotta bolt. You know what a fuss budget Lt. McAvey is when I’m not where I’m supposed to be.”

  “Yep,” she whispered, still rocked by the thoughts of multiple homicides.

  “You alright, Lisa?” He asked.

  “Fine,” she said, halfhearted. “Just kinda shocked I guess. Boy! You work for four years for a police force. See murder after murder and bam! Something unexpected comes up and just affects you all of the sudden.”

  “I’ll talk to you when I’m done there at Star, ok?” Alex assured her.

  “Can’t wait.”

  “Take it easy, Amiga.”

  “You too, Alex.”

  “Be great!” he said. A familiar goodbye he’d adopted after years as partners.

  “Not as great as you.” Lisa assured him. Her part of the now infamous exchange.

  She waited for him to hang up, then hung up her receiver. She smiled a mischievous smile, went to the refrigerator and looked inside.

  “Hmmm . . ,” she looked into the fridge trying to find something suitable. “I wonder what Alex wants to eat.”

  CHAPTER 7

  HOMICIDE

  Detective Sergeant Alex Mendez was a strikingly attractive Latino.

  Approximately 6’0 in height, thick build, but not ripped and defined like a Stallone or a Schwarzenegger. He was in reasonably good shape, even for a career cop, 31 years of age.

  He had been a detective just under 5 years, yet he displayed the confidence of a career D.I.C.—Detective In Charge.

  As he pulled his unmarked sedan cruiser into Star’s parking lot, he noticed a couple of blues still going about the investigation.

  He thought about his partner, Lisa, and what she was missing out on. Not that she was missing out on great fun by any means. But she was sure missing out on the excitement.

  “Sir,” one of them approached him. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to move your car. We’re conducting a police investigation here.”

  Without acknowledgement of the officer’s admonition, Alex flashed his badge and asked to see the officer in charge. The young officer’s embarrassment was quite evident as his shaky hand pointed out Detective Wilkes, with whom Alex was acquainted by reputation only. Strange how long you can work somewhere and not know every single person on sight.

  Alex approached Detective Wilkes, with badge in hand

  “Detective Wilkes?” Alex asked

  The man turned toward Alex “And you are?” He was considerably older than Alex, he thought. Not to mention a contemptible old fart. Graying temples, perhaps getting a little thin on the top, but it was difficult to tell. Wilkes was 6’6. Considerably taller than Alex, but lacking tremendously in his sense of confidence and self-assured stature. But, what he lacked in confidence, he seemed to make up for in forbidding audacity that made him an outcast among many of his colleagues and superiors

  Alex raised his badge “Detective Sergeant Alex Mendez. Lt. McAvey sent me to take charge of the investigation.”

  “Oh great.” Wilkes sighed. “Take another investigation out from under me.” Wilkes began to storm off, growling under his breath, before Alex stepped in front of him.

  “Detective.” Alex admonished “I don’t know what your problem is with me, but I don’t think I appreciate your tone. I am following the orders I have been given. Now, why don’t you get that chip off your shoulder long enough to do your job and let me do mine! Do you understand?” He was staring straight up at uncertain fear in the eyes of Detective Wilkes.

  “Yes sir,” Wilkes cowered. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. Its – Can you keep a secret?”

  “Uh huh” Alex said, disinterested.

  “It’s Lt. McAvey. This is the third investigation his pulled out of my control in the last two weeks. I am busting my hump to make Sergeant before I retire, next year, but I have to clock more command hours if that’s going to happen. Got to impress the brass, but I’m sick of kissing back sides!”

  Wilkes was speaking of the departmental policy-unspoken as it was-that you had to be the driving force behind the solution of a set number of crimes. Of course, Wilkes failed to mention his own lack of attention to detail, his aloof disregard for investigative procedures. To say nothing of his disrespect toward authority.

  “Look.” Alex said, trying to be compassionate, and authoritative all in one. Not the easiest thing for a cop. “I don’t question Lt. McAvey’s orders. I just follow them. All I know is that I have been given this investigation now and I am
partnerless for the next couple of days if you want to hang around and try and help me catch the guy that did this.”

  “How old are you?” Wilkes asked

  “I’m 31, Detective. Did you hear my offer? Do you want this investigation or not?”

  “Mendez,” he said, not acknowledging Alex’s superior departmental status. “I’m 59 years old. I was a beat cop for 20 years before becoming a Detective. I’ve seen polished young studs like you come and go. Get promoted and get shot dead.”

  Alex gazed disapprovingly, but did not interrupt.

  “Son,” Wilkes continued “I’ll give you all my reports. You can have full access to any sketches or notes that I, or any of my blues, have taken. I’ll fill you in on any evidence, witnesses, leads and dead ends. But I don’t have the heart to play second fiddle to some hot shot pet of Lt. McAvey while my career as an upholder of the law gets washed out like yesterday’s laundry.”

  “Now you wait just a—”

  “Gotta go, Ace.” Wilkes continued, pushing past Alex. “It’s your show now. Oh by the way. Those two blues over there. The blonde one’s Chris Fields. The redhead’s James Brenton. It was his younger brother, Jason, what survived this massacre.”

  “What?” Alex said, stunned. “Survived? There’s a survivor?”

  “Apparently so.” Wilkes said, still walking toward his car.

  “Well where can I find him?” Alex shouted, half trotting after the bitter old fart of a man. He gently grabbed Wilkes’ arm and swung him around. “Where can I find this—”

  “Jason?” Asked Wilkes “Well, if I were you, I’d start by asking his brother.”

  “His brother?” Alex insisted

  “You don’t listen much, do you, young man?” Wilkes said, gazing over at Officer James Brenton, who was feverishly rummaging through gravel, pine straw and other tiny bits of “hay”, looking for the elusive needle of evidence. “I’ll be back at the station if you need me, Sergeant.” Wilkes concluded. It was his first, and only true acknowledgement of Alex as a ranked superior.

  “What about your notes? The witnesses you’ve questioned. The evidence?” Alex asked

  “You’ll have my full report on your desk by the time you get done here. See ya ‘round, Partner.” Wilkes’ sarcastic use of the word “partner” made Alex momentarily consider punching the guy, but it wasn’t likely to help the investigation.

  In all his years on earth, Alex could not remember letting anyone else control the course of a conversation in such a manner. In all his time as a Detective, he could not immediately recall letting anyone get away with such blatant insubordination. He convinced himself that he’d fallen prey to his mother’s annoying insistence that he always respect his elders. Luisa Mendez was not a woman you wanted to disobey, after all.

  As his mind filled with the image of his mother, Alex chuckled to himself, then turned his attention to the task at hand.

  “Brenton!” He commanded, “Could I talk to you for a moment?”

  “Absolutely, Sergeant. What can I do for you?” He was a stark contrast to the abrasive Wilkes. Looked to be a rookie. Probably just out of the academy. It was weird that Lt. McAvey would assign him to this case, if his intimate connection was, in fact, legitimate.

  “I hear your brother was connected to what happened here last night. Is that true?”

  “Y-Yessir,” He stammered. His eyes were no longer self-assured. He could not make eye contact. Alex felt like he had just punched the poor kid in the stomach. “Well, No, um, not exactly. I mean, he was attacked. He wasn’t—I mean he didn’t have anything to do with the—”

  “Easy there, officer” Alex said. “I heard your brother survived the attack. I am glad he’s ok. I just wondered when he was going to be up for a little conversation about what happened.”

  “I already asked him everything you could think of, Sir,” James stammered nervously. “He—uh, he can’t remember what happened.”

  “Can’t remember?” Alex huffed. “How in the world can you not remember a multiple homicide you watched take place?”

  “They were his friends, Sir” James offered “He wouldn’t lie about not remembering. Ric was like a brother to him, especially.”

  “Ric?”

  “Enrique,” James offered. “Not sure what his last name was. Jason just called him Ric. Everybody did.”

  “Was your brother in some kind of gang with this Ric, Brenton?” Alex was trying not to sound assuming or accusatory, but he had a multiple homicide to work.

  “Jason? Gang? No, not Jason.”

  “What about his friend? Ric?”

  “I don’t—Uh I don’t know what Ric was into, but he almost cost me my brother because of it.”

  James’ sudden display of anger toward the deceased shocked Alex immensely. Ask the right question, get the right answer; or at least the right reaction. It was understandable that someone would display loyalty in regard to a relative. But such disapproval of the associates therein.

  “How old is Jason, Officer?”

  “Just turned 17,” he offered. “Sir, please don’t bother him. I’m asking you as one cop to another. My brother lost 4 friends last night to some maniac’s sick sense of humor. He’s weak. He just needs to heal, now.”

  James sighed. He could not go on, without risk of breaking down, or risking insubordination.

  “James, I want to tell you a story.” Alex said, this time with earnest compassion. “I don’t normally do this, so keep it between me and you or I’ll have you guarding garbage down on 43rd Street. Understand?”

  James nodded.

  “I had a brother once. In fact, he’s the reason I decided to be a cop. He’d be 38 years old this year, if—” Alex hesitated.

  “Shot?” Asked James, timidly.

  “Eight times. With a shotgun. Do you realize the brutality it takes to stop, reload a shotgun to shoot someone eight times?”

  Alex took a breath, bit his tongue and tried to think of anything but the emotional hole that suddenly reopened in his chest.

  “Now,” he continued “The cops never caught the guy who did it. I couldn’t help, because I wasn’t a cop at the time. I was 15 years old. But I idolized my brother. I wanted to be more and more like him every day that he lived and every day after he died. He wasn’t perfect, but you couldn’t have convinced me of that back then.” Alex had to take a deep breath. “My point is this. Now is your chance to be a standup guy for your brother. To be someone he can be proud of, just like I am proud of Ted. I want to help you nail the guy that did this to your brother and his friends. I’m not out to pick on your brother. Whatever troubles he has are not relevant to this investigation, right now, as far as I’m concerned. All I want is a chance to do what I do every day. Put one more bad guy away, so that maybe there won’t have to be any more cops end up like Ted. Do you want to see this guy get away with what he did to Jason’s friends? Better yet, do you want to give him another chance to do it to your brother?”

  “No, I—” he said, quietly “Of course not.”

  “Then—” Alex began

  “I’ll bring him in to the station first thing tomorrow morning. I promise.”

  Alex smiled. “You’re going to make Detective sure as the world, James”

  “I doubt it,” he said, half grinning “I don’t have that much chutzpah.”

  “Nah!” Alex said, rolling his eyes “That’ll come. Just keep on using your brains and you’ll be fine for now.”

  “Now,” Alex said “I believe we have an investigation to work. Care to fill me in?”

  As they walked the crime scene, James Brenton filled Alex in on the details of the crime.

  “All we know for sure is that we have 4 dead Hispanic males, 2 of them age 16. Two, including Ric, 17.”

  “Time of death?”

  “Not sure. You’d have to ask the graveyard crew” He said, referring to the first two blues on the scene, when the carnage was first discovered.

  “Not a problem.
I’m sure it’ll be in Detective Wilkes’ report. Jacobson would’ve been the M.E. on call.”

  “Ok, well, it was the strangest thing, really. I was called to the scene last night, even though I wasn’t on duty. Obviously, being a family member of one of the survivors—the survivor—I had to come get him. When I got here, they were still loading the bodies in the M.E.’s vehicle.” James continued, “I heard Pat Smith say something about there being no signs of a struggle. Jason was adamant with the questioning officer that he could not remember what happened. Half of the ride home, he bawled like a baby, trying to convince me that he was telling the truth. Strange, because I didn’t ask him anything. And Jason isn’t one to press a situation that doesn’t require it.” James’ gaze met Alex’s “Detective, I swear I have never seen my brother that shaken by anything. He doesn’t cry. I mean ever! I have to believe him! I have to!”

  “Ok, James,” Alex said, writing feverishly, as if he were questioning a witness to the crime, instead of a part of the investigating team of officers. “Now, go back to when you said you heard Pat Smith saying something about the bodies. I didn’t quite catch all that.”

  “Well, I don’t really remember exact details. I mean, if you know Pat, you know what a talker he is. How loud his voice is. I was quite a distance from where he actually stood, so I couldn’t make out everything he said. But I just remember him displaying shock, disbelief. I remember he asked the M.E. how they could have died so suddenly when they didn’t have any marks on them. From what I hear, no signs of a struggle. No knife wounds, no bullet holes. I don’t know much more than that, but I know it made me nervous as hell. But then, I get nervous at stop signs, so don’t gauge by me.”

  “Ok, James,” Alex began. “Here’s what I want you to do. Get on the radio to dispatch. Tell them that Sergeant Alex Mendez wants the M.E.’s reports to all the victims in the Star Club homicide on my desk ASAP, understand?”

  “Yessir,” he said, dutifully.

  “Meanwhile,” Alex continued “I’ve got a million things to do back at the office if this investigation is going to get solved. I’ve got to get myself caught up if I’m going to be able to tell you guys what to do next. Whatever you turn up, I want to know about it, you hear?”