Acta Non Verba

SEVEN   

It had been just two days since all the hustle and bustle accompanied by media hype had happened in the Goose Creek Police Department. A quiet demeanor had again overcome the office with little or no problems to be seen. A few people moved about the office doing menial small tasks including Debbie the Chief’s secretary.

     Debbie was shuffling around paperwork on her desk trying to prioritize the contents of all the work. Generally speaking white papers were last on the order of things to do. These were usually just small disputes or misdemeanors that occurred in the previous month. When she counted them up it came to a total of twelve. Not much even for a quiet little town. Those she pushed to the right side of her desk. Blue papers were more controversial in nature. These were your driving under the influence type offenses. With a couple of disturbing the piece’s mixed in. It looked like a few of these folks might do a little county jail time because they were frequent offenders. Over all six offenses made for little more then an annoyance to the county judge. This stack she put on top of the white ones.

     Then came the most important stack. Yellow papers or the top of the food chain for criminals as Debbie liked to think of it. Hard core rapists, robbers, and the sort. These people would do anywhere from three years to fifty depending on what they did. It had been a bumper crop in crime for the GCPD the last month with a whopping two cases. One was more of a bar brawl then an assault and battery. But the poor sap who didn’t get out fast enough when the police showed up ended up behind bars and awaiting trial for his conduct. The other was something the GCPD say on a recurring basis. A poor country farm boy trying to make it big in the drug game. Probably smart enough to know better, but dumb enough to not know how to stay out of trouble. His third time being caught

ment plenty of jail time ahead for this guy. She snickered to herself a bit and put it in the stack with the others. 

     Debbie surmised the situation and decided there might be an hour of research and an hour of filing to do. Really she wasn’t in a hurry to do it. It could wait while she got up and snagged a cup of coffee. While putting the infamous stack of yellow papers on top of the others she got up from her chair and headed for the coffee pot. As usual when she got there no coffee was left. That meant she had to make a new pot. She thought to herself, why am I the only one who has to make coffee? I am not the only one who drinks it and it isn’t my job. Deep down she wanted to scream it out loud, but as always she kept her thoughts to herself. She added water and coffee grounds to the maker before heading back to her desk waiting for the concoction to finish brewing. 

     Before her buttocks could hit the seat she heard the Chief yell out from his office, “Debbie I need you to call Siple again for me.” At that point she was wondering why he didn’t have an intercom to call her instead of yelling demands all over the building. She didn’t mind doing her tasks but she wished he was a bit more subtle with how he asked.

     “Yes, Chief anything specific you need me to tell him?” as she walked to his door and peared in. 

     Chief Kramer was still on his phone talking with someone as he looked up at Debbie and motioned with his hand for her to come in to his office. He said to the other person on the phone, “No problem I will have someone out there right away.” Then he hung up and grabbed a yellow sticky note pad and began writing as he talked, “Here is what I want you to pass on to him. There has been a potential murder out on Old Crowfield road. I want him to investigate it and get back with me as soon as possible.” 

     He looked up at his secretary and saw the stunned look on her face. It may have been two or three years since the last time a murder had happened in Goose Creek. He could remember it as if it was just yesterday. Murders happened so few and far between around these parts that most of them stayed with you for a long time. But he thought maybe a big town police officer might see this so often they became numb to the whole process. 

     “Tell him to drop everything and get out to sixty eight forty two, ahh, yah two I think is the address. Probably about six in a half or seven miles out.” He said to his secretary. Then he snapped his fingers at her as she was starring in disbelief at him. As he held out the piece of paper towards her he said “Debbie, did you hear me?” 

     “Ahh, ahh, yes chief. Why Siple?” she asked him taking the paper from his hands and glancing at the address and other numbers listed.

     Pausing for a moment he said, “Jim is about the closest thing I have to a detective right now and he can hold the fort down pretty well during a storm. And I am sure there will be a storm around this one.”

     “Why is that?” she asked.

     “It appears at least at this point to the guy who found the body to be some kind of gruesome execution.” he said, then continued on, “Get a hold of B.J. too. He can be the second banana on this one. They work pretty good together I think.” He eased back into his chair cautiously and Debbie could tell he was still thinking about something. He then added. “Make sure ho knows to report everything, and I mean everything to me first. We don’t want the press to get any bad info on this one.”

     Turning and heading out the door Debbie said, “Sure thing Chief I am on it.”

Racing to here chair she grabbed up the phone and hit the speed dial on the phone. She was patting herself on the back for putting Jim’s phone number on her speed dial because she might need it in the future. But she was also excited by what had just transpired in the Chief’s office. Not excited about someone being killed, more excited by the thought of something big happening in her little town twice in the same week. It was a little naive and a bit high schoolish but she would have some amazing information to talk about with her friends over coffee that evening. 

     One ring then two could be heard through the receiver that Debbie was holding. Then Jim’s voice came on and sounded a bit weak. “Hello.”

     “Jim this is Debbie.” She said.

     “Yah Deb what can I do for you?” Jim retorted with little enthusiasm.

     Debbie could tell something wasn’t right so she asked, “Jim, You OK? You don’t sound well.” 

     Jim thought for a second or two then answered her, “Oh Yah, I’m fine a bit fatigued I guess from the last few days. Just need to get a little rest.”

     Speaking in a monotone voice she said. “Oh ok. I guess I don’t have great news then if your not up to snuff.” 

     She could tell the tone in his voice changed to a more forceful tone and he said, “Spit it out Debbie, I am fine. Don’t mind me. What is up?” 

     She swung around in her chair and began to look at the note the chief had written, “Hold on, I have some notes right here. Chief Kramer wants you to stop everything you are working on and needs you to head out to sixty eight forty two Old Crowfield road right a way.” She then added with a little more passion, “Something big and he wants you to take care of it.”

     Jim asked, “Did he say what that big was?”

     Stumbling through her words she said, “Oh Yah, someone got killed and it was execution style from what, from what we know. He also said make sure you tell him everything he doesn’t want it leaking to the press.” She then scanned the little paper for any more info to pass on.

     “Did he say why me?” Jim asked her.

    Debbie said assuredly, “He says you are the closest thing to a detective we have.” Pausing she said, “You need to get a hold of B.J. also. He is supposed to be your number two man on this.”

     “Alright, alright I will get hopping. Tell the Chief I am on my way. Anything else?” he said with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He knew she was a competent secretary but sometimes she was a bit forgetful. If he didn’t ask he might not get the whole story.

     Finally beginning to sound as if she was calming down a bit Debbie replied to Jim’s question, “No. No, I think that is it. Good Luck.”

     Hanging up the phone Jim replied with a simple, “Thanks Deb.” then hung the receiver on the phone and focused on the tasks he needed to accomplish before heading out to the scene. First was calling B.J. and letting him know what they needed to do. He needed a sound mind and a competent thought process other then his own. Next was to make sure he had the forensic people up and rolling. Just like the shows he had watched so many times on television it wasn’t just the police’s hard work that solved crimes it was the evidence which would lead them in a general direction, and hopefully to the truth. 

     Moving through his house grabbing pants and a shirt and socks he sat on the bed to put it all on. In his mind he was putting the process together and he could see it all. Grab this from here that from there and just like a big jigsaw puzzle you put it together piece by piece. Before you know what hit you, you had solved it. If it were only that easy he thought.

     Stopping at the door he looked around the room for anything he had forgotten. His holster and gun were sitting on the table. He grabbed at them but knocked them to the floor. Slowly and in a little pain he leaned over and picked them up. Pain that is not what he needed now, instead this was a time for cooler heads and no complaints. The pain he brushed aside and headed out the door. Bounding down the steps armed with a cell phone in one hand dialing B.J.s number and in the other his gun and holster which he hoped he didn’t need to use.