by J. J. Jones
I started reading Frankenstein by Mary Shelley a few nights ago, and tonight will be the perfect time to finish it.
The morning hours drift by as I read. I feel nice and relaxed – ready for a day at the office. Glancing over the clock, I see that I should be heading down the precinct for the day. A small wave of excitement passes through me. I’m not sure why I am excited to go to work, but something about going to work gives me an anxious excited feeling.
My ride to the precinct is not far, only ten minutes – another reason I chose the apartment I did. I arrive at work and everything seems like a normal day. Our offices are located on the second floor of the building. Most people take the elevator, which I think is odd considering it is only two flights of stairs, but I guess that just further explains humans. Always taking short cuts.
Our department is a nice and friendly work environment. Even though we all have our own desks, we only have half walls separating us. So we can always see each other as we work. Most of the people I work with are nice and friendly. I enter the precinct and quickly make my way to my desk, pretending that I have loads of work to do. I pull a few files off a stack I keep on my desk – mostly for appearances – and pretend to thumb through them looking for something. The busier you look the less likely people will bother you. Most of the time anyway.
“Morning, Detective.”
I instantly recognize the voice as my friend, Tom. Tom is a street cop in the precinct. We work many cases together, and I can appreciate his ability to work hard and be rewarded for his work. As far as I know, he seems to be a pretty down to earth good guy. We have spent some time together outside of work, but lately it seems that he’s been asking me to hang out more often. I’m not exactly sure why, but he talks about fighting with his girlfriend a lot, so I figure that probably has something to do with it.
“Morning, Tom,” I reply. “How are you?”
“Fine, I guess. What do we have on the agenda for the day?” he asks sitting on the edge of my desk.
“Nothing so far,” I say putting down the file, “I suppose we’ll spend some time on a few cold cases unless something comes our way.”
Tom groans, “Cold cases? Really? I hate working on that shit,” he glances to the files sitting on my desk. “You like this stuff though. I always see you thumbing through these files and looking for new leads and shit.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I say shrugging my shoulders.
“Alright, well you thumb through these files until you find something for me to do. Until then, I’m gonna go sit at my desk and pretend to be working so the Sarge doesn’t give me some mindless job to do.” Tom winks at me and then walks over to his desk nearby and sits down.
I nod and smile as he leaves, knowing that he will probably pull up some game on his computer and play that until he gets so caught up in the game that he doesn’t realize Sergeant Brogan is standing right behind him ready to threaten to fire him for the hundredth time.
I look up as I hear the elevator doors open.
It’s Olivia. Like Tom, she a street cop that helps me out during cases. We’ve become close the last few months. I don’t know what it is about Olivia, but there’s something different about her compared to all the other females I have ever known during my existence. I oddly enjoy her company yet I have no idea why.
I find myself staring at her at she exits the elevator. She’s beautiful. She’s the only African-American female cop we have working in our precinct. Some of the other officers joke around that the only reason she is around is because she’s a female and African-American. Having worked with her before, however, I feel differently. Olivia earned every right to be here in our precinct, just like anybody else. I don’t understand why the other officers would feel that way about her, jealousy I suppose – another emotion I really know nothing about, except what the movies teach me.
Olivia is small and slender, but extremely fit. Even in her uniform, you can tell that she works out at a gym and keeps herself in good shape, unlike so many of the officers around here. If I had to choose someone to have my back in this precinct it would be her. She’s a great shot, and extremely loyal. She wouldn’t hesitate even for a second if one of her fellow officers were in trouble. I admire that about her. I know that I probably wouldn’t be that loyal to everyone here.
She has dark eyes, which only continue to compliment her overall look. She keeps her hair simple and pulled back away from her face. I haven’t socialized much with Olivia outside of work, but I wouldn’t mind if she came around more. I can’t quite explain my feelings for her. It is a different kind of feeling than I have ever felt for another human.
“Detective,” Olivia acknowledges me in a playful tone.
“Good morning,” I reply trying to keep our conversation going.
“Have a good weekend?” she asks leaning on my desk.
“Sure,” I reply, “Uneventful, which is sometimes nice, right?”
“I hear ya there,” she nods. “After putting in a full week here, a nice relaxing weekend is a nice treat.”
“You work over the weekend?” I ask.
“Yeah I had a shift on Saturday,” she smiles, “not all of us get our weekends off.” Her tone was sarcastic and playful. I like it.
I forced an uncomfortable laugh not really knowing how to respond. Olivia talked like this all the time with me, and I never knew the right things to say. Sarcasm is something I don’t really understand. Even if I try and say something sarcastic in return, it always seems to come out wrong, so I have resigned to laughing or saying nothing to keep things from being uncomfortable. I learned that if someone says something you do not understand or can not quite hear then just laugh, nod your head and give them a thumbs up. That always gets rid of them.
Olivia didn’t seem to notice my awkwardness. “Well, maybe someday I’ll get promoted to a detective like you. Then I’ll have it made. The pay, the hours, weekends off…” she let her voice trail off.
“I hope you get there someday, too,” I reply hoping I’ve said the right thing.
Olivia smiles at me and for a second things get a little awkward. I am trying to think of something else to say, but I’m at a loss for words. I look away, feeling a little embarrassed, mostly because I don’t understand what these emotions are that I am feeling. I never usually have trouble talking with females but Olivia is different. I start to fumble with some of the case files sitting on my desk, all the time wondering why Olivia isn’t moving away from my desk.
“Detective Van Pierre,” the sound of Sergeant Brogan’s voice rings through the precinct from his office.
I jump from my chair and move quickly to his office. Sergeant Brogan isn’t one for small talk. When he calls you, it means business, and in this business that probably means someone is dead.
“Yes, sir?” I ask walking into the office.
“We’ve got a homicide, down on 39th, an apartment building. Here’s the info I just received from dispatch,” he hands me a piece of paper with a very familiar address on it.
Quietly I scan the rest of the information. Nothing much, just that we have a John Doe, dead in his apartment.
“Head down there and check it out, Detective. Quit standing around here wasting my time and yours.”
“Yes, of course sir,” I stammer and begin to back out of the office.
“Take a couple officers with you,” he motions for me to leave.
Sergeant Brogan and I have never really got along. It’s not that we are enemies or anything, but I can tell that he doesn’t like me. He’s made it very clear that I wasn’t his first choice in the candidates for the job, and that he would rather have someone else than me. I don’t really understand how he could feel that way considering I am one of his best detectives. In the few years since I was made detective in the department, I have solved more cases than any other detective before me.
I walk out of the office and immediately Olivia and Tom pounce on me like wild dogs.
“Got s
omething?” Tom asks.
“Are we getting out of here today?” Olivia coaxes me for more information.
“Well I am,” I reply smugly, knowing that I will have them come with me, but wanting to play the game a little.
“Ah come on, don’t ya need some help?” Tom whines.
“I don’t know,” I walk to my desk and begin to gather a few things.
“Don’t be an ass, Jack, are you going alone, or do ya get to bring help?” Olivia pushes her way in front of me, forcing me to pay attention to her.
“Brogan said I could bring a couple people to help,” I shrug my shoulders smiling.
They didn’t even wait to be asked. Of course they knew that I would ask them to join me. Although I was acquaintances with other officers in the precinct, I by far would choose Tom and Olivia over anyone else.
“Come on, get your shit together, let’s go,” I tell them before heading out of the precinct.
“Can I just ride with you, rather than driving my own patrol car?” Olivia asks me quietly, so no one else can hear.
“Uh, yeah I guess that’s fine,” I reply not really understanding why she was talking so quietly.
“Tom, you just meet us there,” I hand him a copy of the address, so if we get split up, he’ll know where we are headed.
“You’re making me drive alone?” Tom’s whiny voice emerged again.
“Oh, can little Tom not drive by himself to a crime scene?” Olivia jokes with him.
“Shut up,” Tom waves her off and grabs his keys. “I’ve got to hit the head anyway, so it’s fine; I’ll see you there in a little bit.”
“Don’t take all day in the shitter,” Olivia continues to banter him. “We’ll be done by the time you get there if you take too long.”
Tom ignores her and walks out of the precinct to the bathrooms. I watch on, a little confused by their playful banter.
“Let’s go,” I say to Olivia and we head out to my car. Of course the department has issued me a car, and it is very detective looking. Sometimes I laugh at the way the department works. I can’t go anywhere without being pegged for a cop.
Stepping into the car, I start to think about what we are heading in to. I know the address, I have been to this address – very recently. I feel myself start to salivate just thinking about the place.
“So Jack, what is it about you that makes you such a good detective?” Olivia asks bringing my attention back to the present.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m perceptive maybe?” I suggest. “I think I’m just able to see things where most people miss them.”
“Paying attention to the small details, eh?” Olivia words it her own way.
“Yeah, something like that,” I reply.
Although Olivia and I have our awkward moments, overall, I like being around her. She makes me feel comfortable and relaxed, like I can really be myself around her. To an extent.
Obviously, I will never tell her the truth about me, but it’s hard for me to consider leaving New York to find another job. I probably should have left months ago, but Olivia makes me want to stay. I know that soon enough, I will need to leave. I’ve been here too long as it is, and I’m sure people are going to start asking questions. Since vampires don’t age, I still look in my early thirties, even though to everyone at the precinct I am forty-four. I’ve been with the NY Police Department for ten years now, making my way up the ranks to detective. I’m sure it is time that I move on, but the more I think about it, the more I don’t want to and I am started to realize the reason why.
“So you didn’t tell me what we are headed to? What are the details?” Olivia’s voice brings me back to the present conversation again.
“Oh, we have a homicide. John Doe for now,” I repeat the words Brogan had written down on the paper. “That’s pretty much all I know, except the address.”
“Alright, this sounds like it’s going to be a real winner of a case,” Olivia sighs and leans back into the seat closing her eyes.
I can see the beauty in her face the most when she relaxes. I try to keep my attention to driving, but I really just want to sit and stare at her. The smoothness of her skin and the curves of her body are so beautiful that I can’t help myself from looking.
Finally, I draw my attention away from her and get us to the address. We step out of the car and find that other officers have already set up the perimeter and are just standing around waiting for instructions.
“Morning, officer,” I say as we step under the crime scene tape.
“Morning, detective, mam,” the officer acknowledges both of us.
“Why do you have the crime scene roped off out here? I thought the body was in an apartment?” Olivia asks.
“We are just keeping this area roped off to anyone that doesn’t live in the building. It’s a bit of a high profile case, ya know?” he announces.
“Uh, no we really don’t know,” Olivia replies for me. “We were told it was a John Doe. What’s high profile about that?”
“Oh, well they’ve got an identity now,” the officer replied. “James Jones. Ya know the guy they called J-Dog. He just got off on those murder charges, the girl and her boyfriend.”
“Son of a bitch, we know the case,” Olivia continues to speak while I pretend to be walking the scene looking for clues. I always do this to look busy but also listen in on potential information. “The bastard deserved whatever he got if you ask me.”
“Come on Olivia, let’s go check it out,” I say pulling her away from the other officer before she gets herself into trouble. Olivia wasn’t afraid to speak her mind about things, and sometimes that got her into trouble.
“James Jones, huh?” she asks me, obviously waiting to hear my opinion on the murder.
“Well, yeah I guess that changes things a little,” I say trying to keep the conversation light.
“A little?” she asks. “You mean to tell me that you’re going to devote the same amount of energy into finding his killer as you did in finding him.”
I was a little startled by what she said till I realized she meant finding him in the first place. As it was me who arrested him originally.
“That’s not exactly what I said,” I reply, “but in all honesty, yes. A murder is still a murder regardless of the victim, Olivia. It is still against the law to murder someone, even if they are a ruthless scumbag that doesn’t deserve to see the light of another day.”
Olivia sighs, knowing that I am right in my point, even though it doesn’t feel right. Of course, I agree with her thoughts completely, knowing that James Jones is dead because I killed him. I didn’t believe he deserved to live last night when I drank his blood, or this morning when I am here investigating his death. But unfortunately, I must play the game to keep suspicions away from me.
“What apartment?” Olivia asks as we enter the building, acknowledging several more officers walking around.
“3B,” I reply instinctively. I walk over and start to take the stairs, before I realize that Olivia is walking to the elevator. Humans, typical humans.
“I’ll meet you up there,” I call over to her motioning to the stairs. She looks embarrassed all of a sudden and I don’t know why. She continues to get inside the elevator and I watch silently as the doors close behind her.
I walk quickly up the three flights of stairs to the third floor. Olivia beats me by a few seconds and waits for me at the top of the stairs. Perhaps another reason I don’t use elevators is the fact that most of them have cameras. Some stairwells do, too, but far less often. This building was that way. I checked it out before killing James.
We walk into the room and the smell of decomposing flesh fills my nostrils. I see Olivia put her hand to her nose in disgust. It is not pleasant for me either, similar to the smell of good food that is way past it's sell by date. I’m sure the combination of all the smells I had witnessed the night before in addition to the dead body were making everything worse.
“James J-Dog Jones,” the coroner
says to us without missing a beat. “I’ll get the body out of here as soon as you give me the word.”
“Can you tell me what happened? Any cause of death yet?” I ask going through the motions.
“I can’t tell you all the details, but I can tell you this,” the coroner speaks very matter-of-factly. “This man has almost zero blood left in his body. He’s been drained by something or someone.”
