There is one thing I truly hate about my job and that is getting a late night phone call. When a call like that comes in, it means only one thing…murder.
I’ve been a Homicide Detective for over 20 years and have seen the worse that a supposed civilized man can do to another.
My years in the Marines before I became a cop were less bloody. Sure, it was war and we killed each other, but here, stateside, among our own people is where I find the true cruelty of man. I’m coming up on mandatory retirement in less than two weeks and I will embrace it like I do my wife every night.
My wife. She is a wonderful woman and very passionate. These late night calls bother her more than they do me. But this one seems to bother her more than I thought it would. It’s most likely because she was hoping the last one was just that, the last one before I retired. She had hoped my time as a cop would end peacefully without having to deal with another homicide.
My wife had only been in bed with me for a few hours. She had a rare “girls night out” with several of her friends. They don’t go wild at some meat shoppe trolling for men or get stumbling drunk. A few of them get together now and then just to clear their heads from the mundane day to day life we all have. All of her friends are cream of the crop women that grew up together. Each one of them are in long term marriages, just like me and Helen.
When I was given the particulars of the call I knew this one was trouble. Helen knew from my expression is wasn’t good. “Who is it Jacob?” I looked at her having trouble believing it myself, “It’s Frank and Beverly Nelson.” At one time we were fairly close to each other. We were neighbors when the kids were small, but after they moved away we all got busy with our own careers leaving little time to maintain the friendship we once had.
It had to bad for my Lieutenant to call me out when I was so close to retirement.
Helen watched me get dressed with a look of apprehension on her face. If I didn’t know better I think she may have known something. I was in cop mode by now and had a job to do. “OK Helen, spill it. You know something, I can tell. You and I have been together too long to start hiding things from each other. What do you know?”
“I don’t know anything Jacob.” When I gave her the look I usually do when I know she’s holding something back she decided it best to give it up. “OK. I saw Beverly last week having lunch with some guy and it seemed to me they were awfully friendly with each other. They were too friendly if you get my drift.”
“How come you didn’t mention that you talked to Beverly last week? I figured you would have caught up with her and seen how she and Frank were doing.”
“I told you she was too friendly with the guy she was with and I didn’t feel comfortable talking to her. What she was doing with the guy wasn’t right. It was a disgusting display. Even from a distance it gave me the creeps.”
“What did this guy look like?”
“Early to mid thirties, well over six foot, short blonde hair, dressed in a gray business suit.”