François' Quest

11

"Trevor? What is going on in that police department of yours?" Shouting into the cell phone.
"François, what's your problem?" Trevor Martin was the detective that was a longtime friend of François'.
"It's not me with the problem! It's YOU!" François was on the wrong side of ugly today and Trevor knew it. "I will be there in thirty minutes, you better be there."
"I will be here all day today, unless someone gets murdered out there." He was trying to be funny to lighten François' mood. It wasn't working.
"I sure hope no one gets murdered out there because everything seems to be an accident these days." He was still shouting.
"What are you talking about?" Trevor was asking a dead phone.
Right on time as promised François walked into Trevor's office, shut the door, not too gently.
"Who bit you today?" Trevor was defensive.
"This is not the first time that I am investigating a case for someone that you wrote off as an accident. What kinda fool, fool operation are you running here?!"
"Cool down mon. Do you want a coffee?" Trevor poured without an answer from François.
"Look, I am in a foul disposition. I just discovered that a man that you said died by accident was murdered. The lawyers that are behind the murderer are so big that Portia will be peeing her pants when she sees this case come to light! So you better help me as best you can with whatever I ask you or you will be sorry that you were born."
"What is going on?" Trevor scowled. Confused. Shrugging his shoulders. "What does the Prime Minister have to do with this?"
"I am only telling you for your own good because we are friends. They will have your head on a platter for this one. We will have to change your name to John the Baptist when this is over."
François whipped the door wide open, left in a fury, never turning back. Trevor stood there frozen with the cup of coffee extended in his hand for François, watching him fly out of the office like the Tasmania Devil. He had never see François like this before.
'Hmmm....there must be a woman involved.' Trevor thought with a grin on his face.
François headed right to Morgue Records.
"Allen, Allen..." He was talking to the wind that the ceiling fan was blowing.
In Records they just let him go into the archives himself. He was so familiar there they practically setup a desk for him. He would just wave to Tia the secretary, who was a monster of a woman and not a bit feminine. She was like the lesbian "boss-man" in a cell block in a prison for women that everyone was afraid of and had to answer to. She could bench press her own weight not breaking a sweat. She adored François.
"Hi, babyyy......." She would call to him when he passed.
Waving at him like a flirty little girl.
Pass he did, always in a hurry, so that, he could avoid her. Always on a mission of urgency. She was repulsive.
He found the file.

NAME: ALLEN, Denzil
CAUSE OF DEATH: Accident.
Fall.
Approximately 15 feet.

François read through the autopsy report quickly. So familiar with these reports he knew where to look for the information he specifically needed. Bruising, swelling. What? No broken bones! Neck intact! What? Then how did the fall kill him? No needle marks. Stomach empty. He took out his iPhone took pictures of the pictures of Denzil when they found him at the scene, on the autopsy table. He also took pictures of the report on Denzil Allen.
"There it is! I got it!"
He took a picture of an X-ray of the intestines of the deceased. He shut the file hard, slammed it back in place, slammed the drawer shut with force, then stomped out of the Morgue Records. Went to the main reception, asked for the coroner.
"A coroner is an official who investigates violent, sudden, or suspicious deaths." François said sarcastically. He decided that the coroner was qualified to answer his questions, or at least should be qualified to answer his questions. He consciously with great self-control calmed himself to talk to the coroner.
"François! Good to see you. How you do?" Dr. Shepherd was cheery this morning. François was not!
"I have actually been better."
"Oh? What's troubling you?"
"A very serious matter. I just have one question for you."
"Yeah mon, go ahead."
"Can a man die falling from about fifteen feet?"
"Oh no! That would be impossible, unless he fell on his head and broke his neck."
"Are you sure?"
The coroner looked at him like he was crazy.
"What kind of foolish question is that? Of course I am sure."
"Great! That is all I needed to know for now. Thanks doc!"
Before the doctor could respond François was out of his office and in the street.
"N'importe quoi! What a bunch of garbage! Fool, fool sumpin'!" Waving his arms around as he walked to his car. "Je veux la vérité! La vérité!" There he was ranting in French again. He tended to do that when he was upset. He wanted the truth. The plain truth. That is what he was going to stop at nothing to get.
Next stop an independent lab.
"Good morning." The charming smile and good looks often came in handy.
The flattered receptionist responded in kind, "Good morning. What can I do for you?" Smiling sweetly back at him.
"I need your help. I have to have something examined. I need the results fairly quickly. It's a police matter so the 'evidence' has to be handled with the utmost care." He shot her a brilliant white-tooth smile.
She smiled back. "Well.......I think we could manage that. How would this afternoon around two be?"
"Perfect!" He charmed her. "Thank you so much."
"What are you looking for?"
He handed her the clear plastic bag with the hose and the hot-water-looking-bag attached. "I would like the technician to check the contents of the bag, please tell him to check if there is any kind of residue in the hose and or the nozzle. Please and thank you." Smiling that killer-one again. "Whatever is in there I would like to know what it is."
"Certainly Sir. Will you be paying by credit card?"
"Yes. Thanks."
François opened his wallet, passed her his Platinum American Express card. No limit! He could buy a country with this card if he wanted to! The receptionist's eyebrows danced up and down very quickly but François caught it. 'Yes, I am sure you would love to get your hands on that one.' He thought. He had his share of women being interested in him solely for monetary gain. He could spot that kind a mile away. Lowdian flashed into his mind immediately. Thoughts of her were like a sweet elixir.
She was lovely.
Kind........
"Sir?"
.....gentle......compassionate.......
"Sir?"
......intelligent....
"Sir?"
The lady was trying to hand him back his card.
François was daydreaming about Lowdian.
"Oh yes! Sorry about that!" He got back his card. "This report is high-priority from Trevor Martin of the Jamaican Constabulary Force Kingston branch, so please expedite it as quickly as you can. I will be back at two. Thanks again."
One more toothy smile that could be in toothpaste commercial. 'Lasco toothpaste.......for you......and your.....family.' She was singing the tune in her head when she looked at François.
She smiled back at him. 'What a doll!' She thought.
At twelve noon François got a call from Trevor Martin. He let it go to voicemail. He didn't need Martin now, why waste time talking to him?
"François, a lab technician from E.D.D. Laboratories called me to ask me if I authorized you having something tested. I know nothing about having something tested for the police department but because it was you, I gave it the go-ahead. Do you wanna explain yourself?" The message ended.
'Good, that means the lab is working on it. That means that I scared Trevor senseless. Good again!' François was thinking in double-time now.
At two that afternoon the report was sitting on the receptionist's desk waiting for François. Along with the 'evidence' as he called it. He graciously accepted it from the receptionist. In case he needed the lab again in the future he tipped her generously. Never burn your bridges, only build them, build them, everywhere you go.
He sat in his car and opened the report.
Just as he suspected! "I knew it!" He said out loud to his leather upholstery.
With a flick of his wrist he tossed the report and envelope in the passenger seat then raced out of the parking lot.
Next he made a visit to Judge Florence Legister. She was tough.........but fair. She was for justice. That's why he picked her.
"Your story is very difficult to believe." She said flatly.
François handed her the X-ray of Denzil Allen.
"Yes, I know Judge. But! I think I can tie it all together if you would just give me permission."
The judge didn't take her eyes off of him while she was thinking. She thought about it for a minute, sighed then simply uttered the one word François wanted to hear more than anything, "Granted!"
She signed the document.
Thanking her profusely for trusting him, François was off again in a flurry.
Truth be told, she couldn't refuse him for many times he respectfully corrected her in her own courtroom and he was right.
Next call Lowdian. She would be frantic by this time. Yes, that was the right thing to do.
"Dinner?" Is all he said when she answered the phone.
"Lovely." Is all she said.
'I love that voice of hers.' He thought.
"Same time, same place?"
"Same table?" She questioned.
"I'll meet you there." Was his response.
"Later." Was the last word he heard from her.