The takings of Kaitlyn Becker

The Fourth Taking

There was something oddly peaceful about that moment. Watching the gun encased between her hands, looking through its nozzle that was aimed straight between my eyes. It was as though I felt comfort in such a long time.

Because deep down, a part of me was satisfied that I had finally solved the takings of Kaitlyn Becker.

It all started to make sense. The pistol in her hand wasn't something that you could easily purchase. It belonged to a class of handguns called 'easy fires.' It was designed to be 'easy' to fire—it had a trigger hole big enough for three fingers and the gun would fire with even the slightest touch of the trigger.

Kaitlyn Becker killed those officers. She shot them seven times, using the stump of her little finger. I had always wondered why that part wasn't amputated correctly, now I know.

I turn my attention from the gun to the woman who's holding it. She is smiling like a child on Christmas Eve. There's saliva drooling from the sides of her lips, her eyes beaming with excitement. The remainder of her nose is bandaged but I can see what she's trying to do. She's trying to smell me, the way a predator would smell the fear of its prey.

'Kaitlyn' I whisper, my voice doing just about enough to hold back the tears.

I want to ask her so many questions.
But instead, all I say is 'Please.' 'Please, don't do this.'

Her smile becomes a laugh. The saliva flooding the inside of her mouth. She speaks, ever so slowly but I can make out the words.

"He is going to be so happy."

I was about to ask her a question but that's when we hear someone coming.

She is fast in her movement, as though she has practiced this a hundred times before. She doesn't feel the pain of her injuries, she takes the pillow she was leaning on and keeps it in front of her gun. And then, she bites the hospital blanket and covers it up.

It looks as though she has a cushion in front of her tummy. As though she's lying down, ready to hear a bedtime story.

A doctor walks in.
'Hello Kaitlyn,' he asks, 'How are you doing today, are you still experiencing some pain?' His voice is delicate and soothing, because he knows the trauma she's been through.

He looks at me, 'Oh, Joanna—, sorry, Detective Wolff, I didn't know you were still here.' He keeps down the file and gives me his hand.

'Have you eaten detective? Since it's 11pm, our twenty four hour cafeteria is open, it's at the third floor.'

His arm is still outstretched, but all I can see is the woman behind him with a gun pointed my direction.

'Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot you don't leave the hospital room, if you'd like I can go and get something for you.' He noticed my clenched fists, and the sweat dribbling down my face. He withdraws his arm. 'Is everything okay, detective?'

His eyes are ocean blue. His hair, the faintest of brown. For a moment, I can see two faces and I feel like I'm to going fall down.

'Detective, you seem a bit light headed. Could you wait here, while I go get you something?'

And that's when I do it.
I act as though I suddenly faint.
I keep my palm against my forehead and I fall down.
Kaitlyn's watching me, but she can't hear what I say to the doctor now.

He rushes towards me, 'Detective, are you okay.' He's kneeling beside me, and his body is close to my face.

I make sure Kaitlyn can't see me.
I make sure I'm hidden by the doctor's body.