Sleuth Home - Detective Prof. Smith
I was a cop, a good cop. I caught the bad guys. That was my job. Catch the bad guys and put them away. I never saw it. It was right there under my nose. My partner, Joe, my friends on the force, they were all dirty. How could I not have known? I didn’t think anything of the new cars and fancy clothes. I had a family, more bills. I should have seen it. I should have seen it before it happened. I was out on patrol with my partner. I saw something screwy in an empty building. I wanted to go in. He wanted to wait. Call for back up, he said. Right then, I should have seen it. He always ran in first, call back up later. I was creeping up the stairs and heard Joe on his radio. We went though the academy together. Twenty plus years on the beat. How does he sell me out? I hear him say something about we’re outside the door. I turn to look at him, ask him what the hell was going on. He shrugged at me, gun pointed at my chest, smiling. I couldn’t get a word out. I was in shock. The door slammed open behind me. It didn’t hurt. I didn’t hear it either. I landed at Joe’s feet, looking up the steps at the guys I sat with during roll for the last 22 years and 4 months. Maybe my wife was right; I should have retired last year. But I wanted to give her that quiet house to retire to. The one in country we saw on our last road trip with the kids 7 years ago. “I told you, he don’t know nothing,” Joe laughed as he stepped over me and jogged up the stairs. I tried to focus. I could see a guy who wasn’t on the force. I was fading. I was tired. A beer bottle hit me in the chest. The liquid splashed over my face. Tasted good. Imported. Maybe not. I forced my eyes open. I wanted to say something smart after being made such a fool. The beer burned in my sockets. I caught a glace of him as the walked back in. He was tossing a crunched cigarette pack at me. My eyes closed. The pack bounced off my cheek. I chuckled. It hurt. I pictured the guy, if I made it, I would find him. I woke up later, a week or, maybe a month later. The doctors got the shell out of my back. Joe slipped up and was busted working a deal like the one I stumbled on. My wife’s visits slowed down, I was in the hospital downtown. It was hard to get there with the kids and all. Joe and the others sang. The whole unit was dismantled. My wife left for her sister’s with kids, to get away from it all. After the trial started, I didn’t come home a lot. After court, I would take long walks and end up at the bar. Joe had a note passed to me after they all where found guilty. He was sorry, they wanted to cut me in and all that. I got home to divorce papers from California. My wife had moved with her new guy. She wrote, I would have known if I talked her. I signed them. She had found someone that wasn’t broken. My boys need that. Now, I need to find him and toss something at his bloody face.
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