This was gonna be a little tough to prove. Booker West, found at the scene of the crime. MMA fighter loses his cool and beats some poor shmoe to death with his bare hands and then throws the sob into his own trunk. We got Johnny Long Arm claiming Mr. West was in a rage, throwing punches and acting wild from the second they responded. From the outside it looks like a pretty open and shut case. Good thing I’m not on the outside.
For starters I checked out these Cops, Davis and McNamera. Did my research on Booker, if he was in a rage throwing punches those guys would be in a body bag. And, werewolf..so there’s that. I also checked out the scene of the “murder”. It’s a shit hole dump dive just like every other corner in Gary. Easy to drop off a car and leave it there. No eye witnesses and no cameras. Who called the cops? John Doe here’s last call was a day ago. Wasn’t him. It’s not a residential location. So, outside to the existential question who are they and why are they here, we still have yet to hear from our would be whistle blower on Mr. West’s rage out. Mr. West’s account aside it doesn’t add up. No cause except for Mr. West’s affidavit.
Of course that’s not enough to convince a jury, so I take a look at the car, a real good look. I got to the scene hours after I got the call. Yeah, I probably should have headed down to the precinct first, but Mr. West is a big boy. I told him to shut his mouth and sit tight until I got there. I got to the scene 38 minutes after I got the call. Almost crashed twice. Don’t text and drive kids. That was 3 hours after the so-called "murder”. The car was cold. All the way cold, so what was this guy doing, just hanging out in front of his car the whole time. It had rained that day, because you know, Gary… Tires under the chassis were still dry.
I jimmied the trunk open and it’s what I thought. Stunk of the wyrm. I’m not the most knowledgeable about rituals but this was definitely one. There was a bunch of blood splattered inside. Looked like someone shoved a grenade up a cat’s ass and pulled the pin. It got me thinking. I took a taste. It took a second. Badger. Badger blood was used in this ritual. I wanted to look around more but the tow truck just turned the corner so I had to make like some bum fuck native. Something was damn agitating. As the truck pulled away towards the police compound I looked at the empty dry patch of street the car had been resting on. It was the damnedest thing. Ants, hundreds of ants were going at it. Like a little ant war. And then they all stopped and started doing what ants do.
I slammed open the door on the detectives interrogating Mr. West. He had blood caked down his nose and mouth and a busted up eye. He was also handcuffed to the table….not cool. I told them to lose the handcuffs and go jog on or I’d have my buddies at Internal Affairs so far up their ass they’d need a whole ’nother branch of Internal Affairs to get them out. They didn’t get the “internal affairs” humor. To be honest it wasn’t my best work. Didn’t make them move either. Until I cited them for excessive force and threaten to subpoena the footage from the camera. That got them moving.
Booker – that’s right, we’re on a first name basis now – filled me in. It’s what I had pieced together on the way here. Some kind of rage bomb. Tried to flush him out. Lucky for old Booker he has a level head. Otherwise those cops, that were obviously part of a set up, would have been chunks of meat. And then the man hunt would begin. Funny thing is, Booker talked about how angry he was just getting close to the car. I sensed it but compartmentalized it immediately. After this is all done I’m gonna have to go to work on this guy’s mind. Too vulnerable for my liking.
Don't Text and Drive