The Inspector

 

 

 

 

 

 

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PUBLISHER: None

WEBSITE: this one

 

 

 

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There was more ta tomorrow than I saw today. The air was thick with cigar smoke. A shiny light sat over me head. No clear windows in this small room. Duct tape restricted me movement. Eyes tried to pry out of me, what fists couldn't. But they tried. Over and over and over........Their voices bounced from the darkness. Their faces showed slightly when the over head light swung slowly. A welt grew where me upper lip use to be. His breath barked out corn chips and beer. He stood in frontr of me, face ta face, nose ta nose.

''You either tell us what we want to know, or tell the coroner your tale. You were last scene in the vicinity of the deal. Witness' say you were hidden behind some cargo boxes when the warehouse exploded like freakin’ TNT! Some good cops were lost in that deal, and we want the bastards who snitched on them! Now.....we've gone easy on ya right now, yor lip may heal, if we don't keep hittin' ya in the same spot. And those broken ribs just may heal correctly, If Mike doesn't break out the lead pipe. So, you got two choices: either speak up ya fuckin' Mick! or we'll let Mike here work ya over and mail back the rest in pieces to yor dear ol' Irish mum! Decide! Now!"

He fist came down on me chin, and spun the chair. My head throbbed and swirled. I felt like bein' sick, throwin' up all over this goddamn cop and his asshole of a flunky. Me jaw felt like oatmeal, and the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth. My tongue moved on its own. Me words made sense ta someone, just not me.

"Go FUK yor Beyfriend you bichass pig! I ain't got nothin to slay. Go head, bury me. Solve me problem fore me. YOU FUK!" I spat blood, hittin' him in his white suit shirt. He backed into the darkness, screamin' words I couldn't hear past the pain and throbbing in my jaw. Steel clanked in the darkness. Someone tried to talk someone else outta burying me out in the East River. Whoever it was, lost the argument. George the fat bastard, came back with death in his eyes. "I'm going to kill you, you piece of trash sombitch! I'm gonna......"A door opened off in the distance, past the corner of my eye, enough for me not to see. A voice, some authority, and the click clacks of loafers echoed into my ears. A cool breeze stroked my sweating skin. I felt death was comin' for me. Finally. I was wrong.

His presence was anything but calm, his words were spoken in short spurts, "What....the...hell...do you think you are doing, Sergeant?! I want you to untie that man, and get him medical attention......now!" He came closer, A tall kaffer, in a smooth dark suit and light overcoat. He had slicked backed hair, deep gray eyes, and looked more like a scumbag lawyer than a pig. I've heard about him, around places. They just call him, The Inspector. An actual honest cop. Not straight lace, but straight enough to keep IA from runnin' him in. He walked the tightrope. But he always kept to his code. A, what did they call it, a Jap word. Somethin'....oh yeah, the called him a modern day Samurai. He wusn't no Chink. He was a nigger. But one that had pride. Lucky he came when he did. George was about to put me away. George that fat bastard wusn't pleased,

"Inspector Daniels! What the hell are ya doin' here?! This is my investigation, my snitch. You have no jurisdiction. Just walk outta here, now!" I was damn near unconscious when The Inspector spoke, his hand grabbed a tuft of me hair, my jaw was swollen, eye's nearly shut, "Not any more. This is my case now. It just became a homicide. Donny O just bit the dust. He, is mine. Now, get him a medic! And go to my office. If he presses charges, your ass is mine. But he won't. He won't..."tilting my head until my good eye looked into his eyes, "because if he doesn't, I'll owe him a favor. My favor's are as good a gold. If he tells me what I want. What do you say Danny, you game?" I blurted out something like a 'yes'. The world pounded, my time in the light turned black. Voices became like a broken record.

 

 

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