Cross-Over Murders
A Nick PT Barnum Novel
Frank F. Atanacio
Cross-Over Murders
Dedicated to: Alfredo “Fafa”, and Evelyn Atanacio
I still miss you guys!
1
Roman Deharte floated in a point of consciousness between wakefulness and death. His
heart rate had slowed down to a point where it was almost gone. His body was close to lifeless,
and his mind battled to remain coherent.
Jaunito, I’m coming.
His breathing was difficult. His lungs were filling with salt water as the bridge over the
Long Island Sound was the last physical thing he saw.
The darkness of the Sound made the ending of his life complete. Strangely, it did not
bother him. In fact he wasn’t even aware of it. Everything happened too fast and too soon.
In his semiconscious state, images floated in front of him. Images of his father who was shot to death opposing Castro. Images of his mother who was raped by Freedom Fighters. Images of uncles and aunts floating passed him. All dead or missing, and even in his death-like haze, he didn’t care for them too much. He was only concerned for his younger brother. He only cared for Jaunito.
It was Jaunito who came over to America with him on a rickety make-shift boat. It was Jaunito who braved the deadly, dark waters crossing over to make it to Florida from Cuba. It was with Jaunito that he spent time with floating toward the passage ways of death.
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They made the cross-over and his family hated him for it. For they had tended to think of American people as far beneath them, no matter how much they struggled under Castros’ rule. His family wanted him to stay in Cuba. They wanted him to embrace his heritage despite of what happened to his mother and father. They wanted him to not become like the Americans. It wasn’t a move up for him, it was a cowardice move down.
In the floating darkness he saw himself reaching out to his younger brother. Reminding him that coming to America was the most sane thing to do. His family pleading, outstretched arms trying to reel them back to shore.
Jaunito’s image burned on his mind. His lifeless body being buried in an unmarked mass grave for people who had no family, and others who couldn’t afford the burial costs. He had let his brother down. He couldn’t protect him from a murderer. He, who had not seen it coming, was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The same thing could have been said for Cuba, but it happened here. He wasn’t expecting it, and it led to this. His uncles and aunts weren’t here to help explain the risks of coming to a foreign land. A land that had promises, but never fulfilled them. A land of freedom which was hidden behind laws that protected the states, not the people. His uncles and aunts wanted to warn them of these false realities, but they did not listen.
Would he had been better off staying put in Florida? Was coming to Connecticut a big mistake? Roman did not have the answers, nor did he want the time to figure it out. He just
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wanted to be with his little brother. He couldn’t protect him through life, so he wanted to see if he was able to protect him through death. If he had been there, he might have saved his little brother from the clutches of his murderer. He would at least have died trying. It was the chance to help his brother that he really wanted. It was the chance that was never given to him. It was a chance stolen by circumstances way beyond his control. But stolen, nevertheless.
Instead he now felt as if were in limbo, a result from throwing himself off of the Congress Street bridge.
His body was getting colder and his mind losing even the images of his family. Roman knew he wasn’t really prepared for death, but he knew that death needed no preparations. It came at you like a predator, and it staked claims like the devil when souls need collecting. He has taken his final step toward being with his younger brother. He was ready to accept the fate that was in front of him. He was ready to deal with the consequences of suicide. He would leave it up to the creator of Mankind.. The punishment for being loyal to his younger brother was going to be left up to god. It was what he had planned all along. It was Roman’s choice.
And suddenly, brutally almost, Roman Deharte was dragged back to reality. He was jolted out of the cold water by strong hands. He was hauled onto a small motor boat by a stranger. He was lifted bodily out of his watery grave.
“ He’s coming to!” he heard someone shout.
“ Alive?”
“ Yeah!”
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“ Good job!”
“ Are you god?” Roman asked as he quivered.
“ God?”
Roman nodded slowly as the image that looked down upon him was extremely blurred.
“ No, but I have been called Superman before,” replied the stranger. “ But I’m not even Superman. However, one time I was having sex with this girl and she kept calling me god. Does that count? No wait, she was saying oh god, yeah that was it.”
“ Nick!” Someone else shouted.
“ I’m sorry, friend,” said the stranger. “ I’m Nick Barnum, at your service.”
“ Service?”
The Nick Barnum Stranger nodded.
2
Nick PT Barnum was a tall, olive skinned man with dark features. He wasn’t at all God-like, but he was well built, and formidable. He had dark curly brown hair, and a square chin. He sat next to Detective Peter O’Brien of the Bridgeport Police department. O’Brien was a fair-skinned barrel chest man with a purposely shaved head. It was waxed, and kept up almost to perfection. He had no facial hair, and he always wore expensive suits. Even while riding in the motor boat to rescue Roman Deharte. They were a couple of characters, but they each benefitted the City of Bridgeport in their own way.
“ What’s your name?” O’Brien asked.
Roman did not reply.
“ I’m asking you this because when we reach shore, there will be a great deal of questions shot your way. I can do one of two things. Let you stand in front of those reporters, or rush you away to Bridgeport Hospital. It’s your choice.”
“ My name is Roman,” he almost whispered.
“ Thank you,” O’Brien added.
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Roman Deharte was a Cuban male, very thin and perhaps a little over six foot three. He had a thin moustache and very thin eye-brows. He was light olive in color, but had very dark hair. In fact, it made him look pale. Perhaps it was just the water.
“ So what were you looking for in the cold deep?” Nick asked the young man.
He just turned away as O’Brien covered him in a brown police issued blanket.
“ Hey kid, I just saved your life!”
“ Why? Why did you do it,” he shouted in a heavy Spanish accent. “ Why did you feel the need to save my life?”
“ Because you were drowning.”
“ I wanted to drown!”
“ What the hell for?” Nick asked.
“ I was trying to be with my brother!”
Nick looked confused.
“ He was killed!”
“ Oh, I’m sorry,” Nick said.
“ What was his name?” O’Brien asked.
“ It still is, even in death!” Roman shouted. “ Names don’t die when the body dies, I’m surprised you don’t think that too.”
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“ I’m sorry, you’re right,” O’Brien added.
“ Jaunito Deharte.”
O’Brien blinked as if he recognized the name. “ Jaunito Deharte?”
“ Yeah, that’s my brother.”
“ What?” Nick inquired.
O’Brien glanced away briefly.
“ What, you’re going to leave me in the dark after I got all wet for you pulling this guy out of the water?”
He called Nick toward him.
“ He was one of the three murdered kids we found near Wentfield Park,” O’Brien started. “ They were working for a contractor, and I guess murdered when they were dropped off. It was terrible, because they had no family and had to be buried near 70 Acres.”
“ 70 Acres?”
“ It’s like a Potter’s Field.”
Nick Barnum nodded.
“ It looks like this guy here is a family member to one of them,” said O’Brien.
“ So they do have family,” Nick said.
“ Well, not here, but in their own country,” O’Brien clarified.
“ It’s a terrible thing,” Nick said. “ Damn sad thing.”
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“ Yeah, this is not good.”
O’Brien was a police officer for many years, and in those years he hated situations like this. Now he sat in a motor boat with a suicidal Cuban who had lost his brother to murder. In a way he didn’t blame Roman for wanting to take his life, but committing suicide was a coward’s way out of reality. That was O’Brien’s opinion, and he would certainly back it up in a fist fight if he had to.
“ No, not good at all,” Nick said, and turned toward Roman Deharte who was seated in front of them wrapped in a blanket, but did not look cold at all. “ What are we going to do with him.”
“ We? Nothing,” O’Brien replied. “ You’re not going to do anything. This is official police business. I suggest that you return to what you do best, and we’ll take it from here.”
“ Come on, Pete!”
“ You can’t keep putting your nose in our business,” O’Brien continued. “ We need to protect and serve, and that’s going to be hard to do when you’re always on my ass.”
“ You didn’t feel that way when you asked me to come along,” Nick said.
“ That’s because we were on our way to a card game when I got the call of a possible suicide attempt!”
“ You wanted me to come along so I can do the dirty work!”
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“ What dirty work?”
“ I pulled him out of the water so you won’t get your new suit wet,” Nick threw back.
“ It’s already wet!” Shouted O’Brien. “ You’re just here because I couldn’t just drop you off anywhere. I did you a favor!”
“ What kind of favor was that?”
“ Nick, I could have just dropped you off in the middle of nowhere,” O’Brien continued. “ But I didn’t and you should be grateful!”
“ So that’s what you call a favor?”
“ It’s what friends do.”
“ Friends like this, I certainly don’t need enemies!”
“ If you guys want,” Roman started. “ I’ll just jump back into the water, so you guys could finish your fighting. I didn’t ask to be rescued.”
“ Shut up and mind your business,” O’Brien snapped.
Nick laughed.
O’Brien laughed.
Roman closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall to his chest.
3
The captain of the Bridgeport Police department didn’t realize the danger heading toward the city he was paid to protect and serve until it was too late.
His name was Frank Roque, he was a veteran police captain that prided himself in taking his job seriously. He was a fair man, with values. He cared for his friends and family, and wasn’t afraid to show it. He was a wiry, thin man with graying temples, and freckles. It gave him a boyish look, but nevertheless he was the sculpture of being all man. He was a Star Pilot in Afghanistan, and he served some time in the Gulf War.
For a man in such a high position, he had discovered, much to his annoyance, that he had a unknown streak of sentimentality. Perhaps it was looking into the faces of the desperate refugees he had rescued, or perhaps he just had it in him all the time, and it needed something like refugees to bring it out. Nevertheless it was with him, and he had to live with it.
O’Brien stood over him from the other side of the desk waiting to be recognized. He didn’t want to disturb his captain in any way, but he had to let him know what was going on. Even though he suspected that the captain already knew. Because if the captain didn’t know what was going on in the city, that itself would be unsettling.
“ Pete?”
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“ Captain, I think we may have a serial killer roaming our streets.”
He looked up at O’Brien. “ How so?”
“ Three dead laborers.”
“ Illegal, right?”
“ Yeah, North Avenue pick-ups.”
The captain nodded.
“ What do we do?” O’Brien asked.
“ Pete, feel free to sit,” said the captain as he pointed to some chairs against the wall.
“ I’ll stand, thank you.”
“ You want to remain taller than me?”
“ No sir, I was just sitting all day.”
Inwardly, the captain smiled, outwardly he had on his serious face. “ Why do you think it’s a serial situation? Why can’t it be coincidental?”
“ Begging your pardon sir,” O’Brien started. “ The murders happened three days apart, and all the bodies were dropped off at Wentfield Park. The thing about it sir...”
“ Damn pen,” said the captain as he shook his writing instrument. “ I paid twenty dollars for this pen , and it stopped working. I should get my money back.”
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“ The thing about it sir, is that all the murder victims are North Avenue pick-ups. The under the table laborers.”
“ I see.”
“ That’s what they have in common, sir.”
“ Just the three so far?”
“ That’s enough, in my book.”
“ Yeah, but we’re not looking into your book.”
“ Captain, it’s important!”
“ I’ll be the one to tell you if this is important or not,” the captain replied. “Is that clear Mr. O’Brien?”
“ Yes sir.”
The captain thinly smiled.
O’Brien was annoyed, but he didn’t show it.
The captain sat in silence for a moment, still shaking his writing instrument. He wasn’t ignoring the detective in front of him, he was just assessing the situation at hand.
“ It’s important to me captain, that you take this situation seriously. I know you have many other duties to tend to, but I don’t want to have another one of these things get out of hand. We need to stop it now,” said O’Brien all under one breath. “ Begging your pardon.”
“ And you think I’m not taking this seriously?”
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“ The thought has crossed my mind.”
“ I admit I have tried to let it cross mine, you know, not taking it seriously,” said the captain. “ But I give you my word, Pete. I am taking it seriously. I’m considering hiring Nick Barnum to go under cover as a North Avenue pick up. I haven’t put much thought into it yet, but I have been considering it.”
O’Brien grimaced.
“ Problem with that?”
“ Why Nick?”
“ Just free some of our guys up,” the captained explained. “ If we want to prevent a series of killings, we need as much men available as possible.”
O’Brien nodded, apparently satisfied. “ All right, I think I can accept that.”
The captain shot a glance toward the detective.
O’Brien smiled painfully.
“ Good?”
“ Yes sir, good.”
“ Now we need to pay Nick a visit.”
“ You know he’ll do it, sir.”
“ But we gotta pay him.”
O’Brien nodded.
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“ Don’t you agree?”
“ Of course captain,” he replied. “ How can I not agree?”
“ True,” said the captain as he slammed down his pen. “ I hate this pen. It looks like one of the best writing instruments on the market, yet I fight with it all morning.”
“ Use a cheap one sir,” said O’Brien again feeling annoyed. “ They last longer, and you throw it out once the ink runs dry.”
“ I’ll consider it,” said the captain. “ Thank you.”
“ Your welcome, sir.”
“ Dismiss,” said the captain.
“ Oh captain?’
Roque looked up.
“ I’m glad you’re taking this seriously.”
“ I’m relieved that I was able to put your mind at ease. And O’Brien...”
“ Yes, captain?”
“ Believe it or not,” he started. “ I’m glad you have the balls to challenge me the way you do. I may not show my concerns, but they’re there, and one hundred percent genuine.”
O’Brien smiled and walked away.
4
Janet stared incredulously at Nick Barnum. “ You must be out of your mind!”
Nick looked up from his desk. “ I assume you’re referring to me taking that case that Captain Roque offered?”
“ Yes!”
“ It’s a case,” Nick said.
“ He wanted to come down and explain the details, and you just jumped on it without hearing him out!” She continued. “ Who does that? And since when do you go under cover as an illegal alien?”
“ You know mom, I’d rather have a spanking.”
“ You keep that shit up and you’ll get one!”
Janet worked for Nick Barnum for almost eight years. She started when she was sixteen and worked for him even during her college years. She was a thin, very attractive Puerto Rican girl with short black hair. She had a nose ring, and an eye-brow ring, but that didn’t take away from her professionalism, and her detail to duties. She had become a well respected assistant, and also sought after by many attorneys and other private investigators who just liked her style.
“ Janet, just relax.”
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“ He’s sending you in where those Mexicans were killed.”
“ Cubans,” he corrected.
“ Illegal, nevertheless.”
“ I have to know what’s going on,” Nick said.
“ I’m sure you do,” she shot back. “ But know the details! Find out what you’re getting your fat ass into.”
“ Damn, that hurts.”
“ The truth should always hurt!”
“ One of the murdered boys has a brother who tried to commit suicide,” he explained. “ I guess I’m doing it for him too.”
She shook her head from side to side.
“ Listen,” Nick continued. “ If it were your brother, wouldn’t you want someone to investigate right away. Knowing the captain, he’ll come by here in three days, and he’ll take ten hours explaining the entire situation. I already know what’s going on, and I think I can help. Is that kind of clear, Janet?”
“ Point taken,” said Janet reluctantly. “ But do you have any reason to believe that this is a serial killer doing the murdering?”
“ I can’t say.”
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“ And are you up to manual labor?”
“ What?”
“ If they hire you to paint, patch, clean up yards, you’re gonna have to do it. It’s simple as that,” said Janet. “ And like it.”
“ Manual labor?”
Janet laughed. “ And like it!”
“ I didn’t think about that,” said Nick.
“ That’s why meeting with Roque was important,” she said. “ All of that would have come up.”
Nick nodded.
“ Don’t get lazy on me,” she giggled.
“ You’re enjoying this?”
“ You bet your damn ass!”
“ Yeah, I bet,” Nick observed. “ In any event, I said I’d do it, and I have to keep my word.”
“ Hey, just look on the clear side.”
“ I’m helping in stopping a murderer?”
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“ No,” she smiled sheepishly. “ You’re going to get paid under the table. I think ten bucks an hour.”
“ How is that a clear side?” Nick quizzed. “ And don’t you mean... aw forget it.”
“ You’ll have fun doing it,” she said. “ But how do you know what you’re looking for?”
“ You’re right,” He said. “ I’ll know it when I see it, I guess.”
“ Again, I’m right,” she continued. “ That’s why having the meeting with Captain Roque would have benefitted you so much you dumb ass.”
“ I’ll just to got the hospital and pay Mr. Deharte a visit,” he said. “ He’ll be my guiding light.”
“ Doesn’t that doctor work there now?” Janet asked. “ Dr. Peres?”
“ The mean one that hates me?”
Janet nodded.
“ The one who hates me for no reason at all?”
That’s the one.”
“ Oh yeah...”
“ Don’t start anything with her, Nick.,” Janet pleaded. “ She hates you very much, and there has to be a reason. Maybe it’s just the way you handle yourself. You would have made a hell of a nice woman. Ugly one, but very nice.”
He smiled.
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“ I’m serious.”
“ Just go do... what I think you call work.”
“ Kiss my ass!”
“ I don’t do boys.”
“ I know, you just do men.”
Nick’s chin dropped.
“ Just leave her alone, that’s all I’m asking you to do,” she said. “ Is that clear?”
“ Yes master.”
“ Don’t be stupid,” she said. “ Oh yeah, wait.. That’s going to be very difficult for you to do. So if you have to be stupid, tame it down.”
Janet walked out of his office, but she was still laughing loud enough for Nick to hear. It was very annoying, but she did it on purpose.
“ I gotta do something about that secretary,” he said.
“ I heard that!”
Nick smiled dejectedly.
5
Dr. Katherine Peres entered Roman Deharte’s room and went straight to the small bathroom. It wasn’t that she had the urge to use the bathroom, she just wanted to avoid Nick PT Barnum.
Dr. Peres was a tall, attractive Portugese woman with light long brown hair, and a very fair complexion. Her eyes were light green, and her nose, tiny and button like. She had her flowing hair always doing just that, flowing. She was an intelligent woman who just never took a liking to Nick Barnum. She had this weird hatred for him, and she had never taken him seriously. In fact, she considered him a Neanderthal.
She walked into the bathroom, but quickly became aware that Nick was following her with his gaze. He’d known fully well that Dr. Peres had this odd hatred for him. He knew it, and it didn’t bother him one bit. In fact, he found it amusing, and attractive. Something that a Neanderthal would think.
Unaccustomed to such a caveman, Dr. Peres turned and met his stare head on. It was at that time, where she really looked right at him. It was the first time she stared at just him, without having others around. Others such as Victor Cruz, Alfredo Fuentes, Peter O’Brien, and even Frank Roque. It was just her and the caveman. Something in her mind started a strange conflict. She was tossing words around in her head. Words she never thought would be in such conflict.
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Two words exactly. Pig and Cute.
“ Hey Kathy.”
“ Dr. Peres,” she clarified.
Nick nodded.
Without stopping to think she said,” hurry up with Mr. Deharte, and get the hell out of here. You stink, and I don’t like your kind.”
“ I take a bath every Saturday,” he said. “ And yeah, you like my kind.”
She grunted.
“ It is nice to see you, again,” he said.
“ Well, I can’t say I’m happy to see you, Nick...”
“ Mr. Barnum.”
She grimaced.
Dr. Peres never had a valid reason to hate Nick Barnum. It was just one of those things where when you keep hearing a name, and keep hearing all about his maverick attitude, you grow tiresome. You grow a hatred in your heart like a tumor. She didn’t know him well enough to hate him as much as she did, but nevertheless, the hatred was there. Dr. Peres disliked his candor, she disliked his character, his ability to smile in the face of danger. She thought he was sexist, and that he starved sensitivity. But the fact remained that he really never did anything to her. Of course they have met on several occasions during their business. But she watched how he
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handled the police and how he handled other medical professionals. She didn’t like the fact he treated them like they were beneath him. He never actually said it, but it was apparent to her. It was crystal clear.
Dr. Peres knew that holding onto an empty hatred for Nick was absurd, but nevertheless, it existed. It was genuine, and for some strange reason, growing.
She wanted to tell him how much she hated him. How much she despised his presence, but at that moment, she couldn’t think of anything to say. Deciding to break the uneasiness, she stepped toward the private investigator and said. “ He’s doing much better, but I suggest you speed up your questioning. He needs his rest, and he needs to get better.”
Nick nodded.
“ I have duties to attend to,” she said. “ I’d like you gone before I get back.”
“ Don’t you mean dead?”
“ That’ll be a nice treat.”
“ Are you secretly in love with me?” Nick asked.
Shocked!
“ Really Kathy, are you?”
Dr. Peres didn’t offer an answer. She turned and walked away, leaving the Neanderthal lost in confusion and contemplation.
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Nick Barnum turned to Roman and said,” Yeah, she likes me.”
“ Hey,” Roman forced out.
“ How you feeling buddy?”
He nodded.
“ I would offer to get you some water, but I don’t want to shock you.”
He looked confused.
“ Water? You were drowning?”
He got nothing from Roman Deharte.
“ Well anyways,” Nick started. “ I’m here to help you find your brother’s killer.”
He looked away.
“ Roman, don’t look away from me,” he said. “ You should want this. You should want to see justice.”
“ Justice won’t bring back my brother!”
“ He isn’t Jesus,” said Nick. “ Now listen up you selfish bastard! I told you before, killing yourself is not going to get satisfaction. Finding the son of a bitch is. Letting him know he can’t get away with killing is. Watching his ass squirm in prison while you live free is the way you want all this to play out!”
“ My little brother is dead bro!”
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“ And that ain’t going to change!” Nick shouted back. “ But we can get this bitch, do you hear me?”
“ What you want me to do?”
“ All I want to know is what I’m looking out for,” Nick said. “ I really don’t want to be out there working my ass off everyday. I’m allergic to hard labor.”
Roman smiled.
“ Hey, you got teeth?”
“ Yeah, I got teeth,” he said. “ You’re looking for a painter.”
“ Painter?”
He nodded.
“ Jaunito had this knack for painting,” he explained. “ He learned how to do it well so only painters would pick him up.”
“ I see,” Nick said. “ That’s actually great, because I’ve watched enough HGTV to know my painting stuff.”
“ He was picked up by four different painting companies, and they would work in the Black Rock section of Bridgeport.”
“ I see, and you never worked with him?”
“ I do roofing stuff, there’s never no need for my speciality with a painter.”
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“ You know what I’m going to do,” Nick said. “ The money I make under the table, I’m going to give to you. Seeing that you ain’t working.”
“ Really?”
“ Yeah, but don’t expect too much,” Nick said. “ I plan to get fired a lot. I really am a lazy son of a bitch.”
He smiled.
Nick smiled.
“ So I should be at the corner of North Avenue and Madison Avenue early?”
“ About six.”
“ In the morning?”
He nodded.
“ Damn, that’s going to be rough.”
He laughed.
“ Yeah, I think I’m going to get fired a lot.”
“ You better go before that doctor comes back,” he said.
“ She likes me,” said Nick.
“ Yeah, you like her too,” Deharte offered.
“ Don’t be silly.”
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“ I saw you looking at her swishing her stuff while she walked out,” He said. “ You looked like a kid and a candy store.”
“ I’m an ass man.”
“ You like her too.”
Nick smiled.
6
Three Months Before The First Murder....
The rushing sound of traffic was so melodic. It helped ease the mind of a dark stranger sitting at an under path of I95. He was a watching three construction workers repairing a sound barrier fence that kept the noise out of the houses of the people who lived in the Fairfield County. He was eager to see the repairs come to a completion. He enjoyed watching the contractors do their thing. He loved to see progress taking fold. It meant a great deal to him because that was what he did for a living. That was what made him complete. That was what made him a man.
“ Hey Barker, come sit with me,” shouted the foreman as he sat about four feet away from the dark stranger.
Barker sat quickly.
“ Damn cars keep using that fence as a stopping barrier.”
Barker nodded.
“ What’s up Barker?”
“ Nothing boss.”
“ Come on,” the boss insisted. “ I can tell when something is bothering one of my men.
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It’s obvious, so spit it out.”
“ My brother lost his job,” he said.
“ Mike?”
Barker nodded.
“ How?”
“ He was a roofer, but his boss decided to hire those under the table illegal aliens, you know the ones?”
“ Non-union.”
“ Non-citizens,” he corrected. “ The Cross-Overs from other countries who do the same work for a lot less”
The foreman nodded.
“ It’s becoming too difficult to compete,” said Barker.
“ I know,” said the foreman. “ My brother had a painting company, and he let all his employees go. He was paying them about forty dollars an hour, and he couldn’t make ends meet anymore. He fired them and he hired the Cross-Overs for only fifteens dollars an hour. It eased his bills, and cleared his mind. He said it was something that had to be done. I know it wasn’t fair to his legal workers, but his hands were tied.”
“ If these illegal aliens continue to take over our construction jobs, small businesses are really going to hurt.”
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The foreman nodded.
“ What can we do?”
“ To be honest with you, nothing,“ said the foreman. “ It’s strange for even me to say this, but Barker, they got to eat too.”
“ But on our dime?”
“ They work for it,” he said. “ It’s not like they’re coming here to take something for nothing.”
“ So we got to lower our standards?”
“ If we wanna compete,” said the foreman.
“ With Cross-Overs?”
“ If it’s not them, they’ll be someone else.”
“ Damn,” said Barker. “ It’s just not fair. We need to make a living. If there was only a way we can stop them from taking our jobs.”
“ We can kill them all,” said the foreman jokingly.
“ That’s not an answer.”
“ It was a joke.”
Barker nodded.
Kill them all?
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Kill them all?
Kill them....
The dark stranger climbed a sun-soaked wooden step as he made his way out of the under-path. He had heard enough and he wanted to help. He wanted to make sure that the men who continued his trade was able to stand up strong. Be proud to finish a job to everyone’s satisfaction. To get a decent pay for a hard day’s work. He wanted to correct the mistakes that society failed to do. He wanted to make sure a hard working man was able to do his job without feeling the competition breathing down his neck. It was a simple task, and a task he had planned out in his head. He stood and looked toward the on-coming traffic. He saw construction vehicles driving by. He scanned booth sides of the highway. There were a handful of vans dotting the slow and fast lanes. He removed his shoes and socks and strolled away from the highway. Taking in tow a plan. A job that he had to carry out. In his mind, it was a job of mercy.
Kill them all?
Kill them...
Kill!
7
Captain Frank Roque glanced up from his reports on the computer screen as his door quickly shot open. There was a young female police officer chasing Dr. Katherine Peres into his office.
“ I’m sorry sir,” said the young police officer. “ She didn’t want to wait until I got you.”
“ It’s okay,” said the captain. “ I’ll take it from here.”
“ I’m sorry sir.”
“ Don’t worry about it, just go back to your duties,” he continued. “ There is no need for you to apologize for the doctor’s rudeness.”
Dr. Peres smiled as the young officer blinked rapidly and walked out of the office shutting the door on her way out.
“ I don’t like when you send that Nick Barnum to my place of business,” she started. “ He is a rude, sick man!”
“ A hello captain, would have been nice.”
She shrugged.