Chapter 6. Weeds and Tar
All three detectives present at the scene stayed for another two hours before they disbanded - hard working as they might be, all three of them still needed a break after one day of work even if it was an urgent case. In turn, they would need to leave it to the night shift officers to guard the scene and examine it some more just in case they forgot or missed anything. Before he left, Marcus put in an official urgent request to the power company that sent this team to inquire information about each of the team members - but given the usual reaction speed of these local half-city-runned companies, they would probably get back to him in at least a few hours or even days.
“Detective, your father’s bill.” When Marcus finally set foot in the front door of his apartment complex, the doorwatch handed him a small paper bill, on it was the balance of 20 dollars.
“What’d he do this time?” Marcus sighed and took out his wallet.
“He broke a few windows and threw up on the floor, so we cleaned his wounds and had Mr. Wells take a look at him. He would bill you separately.” The doorwatch answered: “We put him back on the couch.”
“Thank you Mr. Blake, much appreciated. ” Marcus took out two bills, a net amount of 25 dollars and handed them to the doorwatch.
“No problem.” Mr. Blake took the bills without saying anything: “It’s almost 15 years, so - I apologize if he should cause you any more trouble. I would definitely talk to him.”
“I know, I know.” Mr. Blake shook his head: “I know someone who was on that cruise as well, hell, probably everyone does - they just asked me to join a memorial service. Just - take care of your dad, will ya? One cannot live like that.”
“I’ll try, thanks.” Marcus sighed: “Have a good one sir.”
Elvin, Marcus’ father was lying on the couch when Marcus came home, in a cradle position and was covered in blankets. There were some more empty bottles on the ground, but the stench of cheap alcohol in the air had almost all dissipated. His right hand was bandaged up in a firm and meticulous fashion. Though this very apartment complex was in an area that was far from being decent and the people living in it were mostly just barely getting by, Mr. Wells, the unofficial “complex doctor” was still careful and beyond “professional” to his patients.
After giving his father another blanket because of the temperature readings of the thermometer of the room - he couldn’t feel much of the cold ever since he had a good handle of Ferocious Tiger Style, which not only toughened his body, but also afforded him a good amount of Qi which became almost ever-present in his meridians, providing him additional resistance to negative external influences, like low temperature in this case.
Before doing a quick meditation and practice session and going to bed for a short nap, he took a cold shower per his daily routine and tried to organize his thoughts about the matters at hand.
First is the seemingly normal and simple case of the car crash and the missing son of Rick Benson. He couldn’t help but feel this was a case where there was much more to it than it appeared - maybe it was because the eagerness of the father to find his son and the not-so-subtle intention of covering things up, maybe it was because of the strange and chilling facial expression of the dead young woman and the weird feelings he had when he was at the scene. Kevin apparently was thinking that he might come into contact with something paranormal or “unclean”, yet there was little concrete proof of that. He was not one to immediately believe or dismiss the claims of ghosts, spirits or other supernatural occurrences. He just prefered to deal with things he could see, hear or feel.
Throughout his not long yet not short career as a law enforcement officer, he had indeed encountered some truly bizarre and somewhat terrifying cases where supernatural presence might have been the only reasonable explanation - but he also had to remind himself that these kind of explanations could in many ways just be cop-outs when the leads ran cold and there was information missed or hidden. And this kind of cop-out would eventually lead to laziness, inaction and utter irresponsibility. He did not want to fall into that - he could feel his stomach churning just at the thought of it.
Having double and then triple checked the locks and windows, straight into his bedroom he went. The main bedroom was empty, because it was kept for his father, who rarely used it.
The next morning, after a short nap of barely over 3 hours, Marcus woke up even earlier than usual and headed directly to the local electric power company, by the name of “S&S Corp”, to inquire information about the emergency reparations team. And just as he suspected, even with the team brutally murdered, the power company did not fully process the request yet. It was in a state of “pending review”, whatever that meant.
“I’m sorry, officer. But that request is still being processed, it’s under administrative review. We can try to rush them for you. But there’s not much we can do.” The lady at the front desk laid down her phone and said to Marcus with a professional routine smile: “Without the permission of the respective departments, we are not able to divulge personal information regarding our employees - ”
“Even if they’re dead and we’re trying to find out who murdered them? Can I talk to someone in charge?” Marcus sighed, shook his head and then took his phone out: “I can put our captain on the phone - ”
“Detective!” Just this minute, a man’s voice with slightly exaggerated friendliness and enthusiasm interrupted Marcus and the lady at the front desk. When Marcus turned to the direction where the voice came from, he noticed it was a man with shiny and well-groomed hair and mustache, and a shiny name tag on his chest: “I am the on-call executive manager today, what can I help you with?”
“Hello.” Marcus shook hands with this man while trying to read his name tag: “Mr… Flake, I am Detective Cai from the 17th Precinct of PCPD. I put in an urgent information request late last night to request some personal information about a certain emergency reparations team you sent out last night…”
“Oh, we actually sent out three teams last night, I wonder which one you’re talking about?”
“The one with six members, to fix the sub station at the corner of Emerson Street and East 11th Street.” Marcus said: “We have a situation on our hands - they fell victims to what we presumed as murder. So I am here to collect their personal information as a part of our investigation - in particular their associations, personal networks and any other information that could help.”
“Oh, my, god.” Mr. Flake gasped and covered his mouth: “That’s - that’s horrible! What happened?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out, so as a part of our investigation - ”
“I totally understand, detective, let’s sit down and we will help you in any way we can.” Mr. Flake pointed to the side and then snapped his fingers at the young lady at the front desk: “Forward that request to me, I will personally approve it right now. And call Mr. Saks immediately.”
Mr. Saks turned out to be a corporate counsel, who sat beside Mr. Flake and had a recording device.
“Sorry for this red tap and formality, but we’ll need to record our conversation so that we can provide training for future members of our company.” Mr. Flake smilde and pulled up a document on his tablet: “Okay, so I’ve skimmed through your request, detective, and I fully appreciate the work you do. But I would like to ask some questions first, if that’s okay with you.”
“Sure. Just make it quick.” Marcus repressed his urges to raise his voice and responded with a quick and simple answer.
“Of course, of course.” Mr. Flake exchanged looks with Mr. Saks, then proceeded: “Do you have any specific proof or evidence that the murder happened?”
“What?” Marcus almost scoffed, but then had to calm himself down a little.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be insensitive, but we haven’t heard from the team on any of this, and our on-call center did not receive any alerts or calls for help from them - so as you can imagine, we are just as blind to the situation than anyone.” Mr. Flake re-framed his question with a smile: “So, as the one reviewing this request, I would like to see some ev - ”
Before Mr. Flake could finish his sentence, Marcus raised his phone and showed him a few distantly-shot photos of the scene, which included sights of the bodies from some distance and without revealing details of any of them.
“Oh! Oh!” Mr. Flake jolted back as if he just saw something really horribly disturbing and horrifying that he had never seen before: “Okay! Okay! Sorry about that! I think that’s enough! Yes!”
“Any other questions?” Marcus dimmed his phone and asked.
“Oh! Yeah! Sorry! Oh!” Mr. Flake’s reaction seemed just as exaggerated as his friendly enthusiasm: “Yeah, just another question then I’ll approve this request - could you provide us any updates on the case when you do find something?”
“That’s - that’s not up to me. You’ll need to communicate with our captain, Captain Ko.” Marcus shook his head.
“Understood, understood.” Mr. Flake nodded and looked at Mr. Saks once again: “Now, I’ll have my people pull the information and present it to you.”
“Actually, I have a question of my own.” Marcus said: “I would like to talk to some of the team members’ coworkers, can you help me with that?”
“Yes, of course! Just wait here a moment, I’ll find some people that can talk to you.” Mr, Flake adjusted his fine and luxurious looking suit: “And I apologize for my - my unprofessional reaction.”
“Not a problem, I appreciate your help and cooperation.”