Nick PT Barnum in Who Murdered Sporty Williams
The elevator slowly ascended, opening on another, similar corridor with checkered linoleum and two tone walls. O’Brien was the first one out as he ushered toward his office with Fuentes and Cruz in tow.
"Damn, slow down Pete," Fuentes called.
They entered the office and O’Brien slammed the door shut. He was fuming as he walked around toward his chair and quickly sat down. Almost forgetting he had two officers with him he turned around and punch the wall knocking an old photo down breaking the glass of the frame.
"Relax!" Fuentes half-shouted.
"Captain Roque would never had allowed this," he said. "I can’t believe that fucking ass won’t let us go to Charles Williams Funeral."
"He says we’re too busy, and we have a great deal on our plates," added Cruz.
"We need to be there!" O’Brien shouted.
"Well, lets get this process going," said O’Brien. "Lets find out who murdered Charles Williams in freaking cold blood!"
Cruz pulled some files and placed it neatly on O’Brien’s desk. He pulled a chair and sat to the left side. Cruz was Fuentes childhood friend. He was slightly taller and had more of a body builder’s frame. He had dark brown hair, and was also olive skinned. He didn’t play Jai-alai with Fuentes, but he watched every game for moral support.
A female officer brought in the first witness they gathered at the crime scene. He was an older Latino male with a bantam size body. He had thick glasses, and a puffy nose. He looked lost as Fuentes helped him into the chair.
"What’s your name?" O’Brien asked.
"Pedro, Pedro Rivera."
"Okay, what do you have for us, Pedro Rivera?"
"I know Sporty," he said with a nervous crack in his voice. "He did a lot for my family. He was a good man."
"But I didn’t see him get shot, but I did see a skinny black kid run off."
"Did you get a look at him?" asked Cruz.
"He went too fast, I’m old."
"So you’re telling me that your eye sight is shot?" asked O’Brien.
"I was drinking, eh maybe too much."
"Then how could you help us?" O’Brien half shouted. "Get him out of here and bring in the next witness."
"I’m sorry sir, but I liked Sporty, he was a good guy."
"I know, I heard that tune before!"
Pedro Rivera slowly got up and was escorted out of the office by the female police officer. She later came in with what everyone thought was a woman. She sat down and crossed her legs. She had a hard face, deep brown features and eyes that were fixed like granite.
"Your name?" O’Brien asked.
"Your fucking real name!" shouted O’Brien.
Cruz looked confused. The transvestite had a nice body, smooth legs, and a hell of a nice ass, which was clearly defined in her tight black min-skirt. She even supported a pair of double Ds. She was very nervous because O’Brien was all attitude.
"Come on Pete, go easy," Cruz suggested.
"You know that’s a fucking man, right?"
"I was out.. Walking," she stopped to adjust her skirt. " I said hello to Sporty, and he met this crazy young kid. I never saw him before, but he had a mole on his cheek. It was a big one that’s why I noticed it. He was darker than me, but he was young."
"About what age?"
"Probably, 19 or 20."
"Good, we are getting somewhere," O’Brien acknowledged.
The voices in the hallway were coming in too loud and O’Brien was getting agitated. He looked over at Cruz and Cruz nodded before he got up and walked to the door. He opened up the door just a crack. "Keep it down out there!"
"I was going to ask Sporty for some money, but he followed the kid toward Bostwick Avenue, so I decided to wait until he was finished."
"Was he buying drugs?"
"Oh no, Sporty never did drugs, I’ve known him for a long time, never seen him high, or drunk."
"Why didn’t anyone tell Mrs. Williams that her son was killed?" Fuentes asked.
"Ain’t my job."
O’Brien suppressed a chuckle.
"Is that all you guys need from me?"
"I guess so," O’Brien replied.
"Good, cuz I gotta go," she said as she fixed her skirt again and stood up slowly from the chair. "I need to be out making some money."
"I didn’t hear that," O’Brien said.
"So you’re good at what you do?" Cruz asked.
Mistaking that comment as just casual conversation, she winked at Cruz.
Another female officer popped her head into the door and said. "Hey guys, Nick Barnum is here to see you."
"Tell him we’re busy," O’Brien replied.
Nick PT Barnum, a big, boxer’s build dark haired man pushed his way through the door almost knocking over the female officer made his way into the office. "Busy?"
"We’re in the middle of something!" O’Brien shouted.
"I won’t bother you guys," he said.
"Then get the hell out!"
"I think he’s serious," said Cruz as he shook the big man’s hand. " O’Brien is on a roll here."
"Okay, what the hell do you want?" O’Brien asked.
"Just want to see how you guys are coming along with the murder case?"
"I saw you guys at the PT Barnum projects," he added. "Pete, you’re looking for an apartment there?"
O’Brien didn’t answer.
"Listen," said the prostitute. " I need to get home, anybody got cab fare?"
"Yeah, I’m not taking a bus."
"Nick will give you a ride home, right Nick?"
"Huh, oh yeah, anything for a lovely lady."
"Why you are so sweet, you big hunk of man."
Cruz giggled like a school boy witnessing something funny.
"Okay, we’re done here with you,"O’Brien said.
"Thank god," she said as she walked toward Nick Barnum.
"Your chariot awaits," Nick said as he bowed briefly and allowed her to walk by him and out the door.
"I’ll be back," Nick said.
"Don’t hurry on our account."
"Hey Nick," Fuentes started. " I hope you get lucky."
"I know she’s a man," Nick smirked. "Just want her to feel good."
Nick Barnum left leaving the police officers there to sort through the countless number of witnesses they collected. Their interviews began reasonably and orderly. Taking turns collecting information the police officers worked diligently The female officers escorted each witness in and out of the office. O’Brien had debriefed almost a hundred witnesses and he knew most of them were just liars, and some were just reluctant to tell what they saw, or what they knew.
The interview process abruptly entered its second stage. The second stage was a little more intense. The writing became tiresome, but it had to be done.
A half hour later, the acting captain stormed into O’Brien’s office outraged. He slammed his fist on the desk knocking over several reports. He screamed for the Puerto Rican girl sitting in the chair to get her ugly, untruthful, drug addicted ass out of the office.
" Captain?" O’Brien stood up.
"What the hell are you doing?" shouted the shift commander.
"We’re gathering information," O’Brien replied. "We’re collecting enough to help catch the son of a bitch who murdered Sporty."
"We can’t keep using all of our resources on this case! We have many other pressing things to worry about!"
"No buts!" he shouted. " We have the president of the United States coming to speak at the University of Bridgeport. We have an election for mayor closing in, and we have other police business to address. We will not waste our time and efforts trying to clear this matter up. The guy is dead, he has no family, except for an old mother. I don’t think we need to look further. Let this case become cold!"
"But it’s a homicide, sir."
" I don’t care if it’s a mass murder," he shouted. " We will move on!"
"I can’t believe you’re treating this like a misdemeanor homicide," O’Brien stated.
"I gave you a direct order!" he shouted. " Follow the chains of command!"
O’Brien bowed his head and nodded somberly.
"Now, clear the fucking hallways, and get these people out of my building!"
"Yes sir," he replied quietly.
The shift commander stormed out just as abruptly as he stormed in.
" Captain Wilson is pissed," Cruz said.
" Captain Roque would never had ended this case," Fuentes said mostly to himself.
" At least we’ll go to Sporty’s wake," O’Brien said with a bit of false calm. "It’s the least we can do. But we can’t tell the captain, he’ll be very pissed."
"Or," Cruz started. " We can get Nick Barnum to solve the case for us."
O’Brien smiled almost sheepishly at Cruz.
© 2011 Frank Atanacio
More by this Author
The old woman screamed. The shadow and its fury vanished, and there was only the darkness. She was shuddering with worry. She had a premonition about a wolf attacking her granddaughter, and her premonition of dread had...
A young teenage black boy from a drug plagued neighborhood would probably get lost in the shuffle. Chambers wanted to give that boy a voice. He was hoping something would ...........
The killer didn't need heart failure as death, pain and agony waited in silence, The killer stood up fixing Anne Carter with a cool, contemptuous gaze. Anne fiddled a bit with the toothbrush, but she