JUSTICE

Chapter 1

The 31st of December 1979. A few minutes before midnight. That was when the voice of the dispatcher came in through the radio. I remember sitting in the patrol van, hoping for some action. It was new year's eve, I knew, but I had no family to go to, no girl to celebrate with.

Bridgette Tennyson, the only girlfriend I ever had was killed in action eleven years back. Yeah, a female police officer back in the sixties, a rare thing for a city like Fordshed even now too. I still remember the last time I saw her face. The 13th of August 1968.

There had been a whiff of a drugs racket downtown, and the chief inspector Harvey Richardson, the hothead he was, was determined to bust it. Tagging along a team of four, Bridgette, myself and Davey included, the only ones available at that hour of the night, Richardson had barged straight in.

But what he hadn't factored was the possibility of the dealers being armed too.

Two of the three were killed, but the third run off. He could never be apprehended, and he was the one who had fired the shot. It had passed straight through the heart of Bridgette, and she lay struggling in a pool of blood that was gradually beginning to grow around her. The hothead and Davey were still busy with the other two.

I remember screaming though not really how loud, as shot in his direction. The bullet missed. It was the last one and I had to reload. The man had just sneered as he took an aim at me. That was when I heard the sirens, the backup Richardson had asked for.

He could've easily shot me, but he just took off with the gun. In this time I had already reloaded, and I took an aim at him. But right then, all of a sudden my fury drained out of me as I crumpled on my knees, in front of Bridgette's body, the tears freely streaming down my face.

Eleven years on and I had never found love again. Bridgette always seemed to be somewhere in my heart, could never leave her behind.

And on that night I sat, with her thoughts hoping for some action that could counter the cold gradually seeping into my body.

'All available units proceed to 5th avenue, Winchester Hill, code 31. I repeat all available units proceed to 5th avenue, Winchester Hill, code 31.'

I looked to my left. Inspector Bradd Hodgeson, the self proclaimed ladies' man lay curled up in his seat, his police cap slightly askew.

I gave a light pat on the forehead.

'Huh,' he looked at me a little confused.

'Time to rise and shine, Hodgy boy, Code 31.'

'Homicide,' there was a sudden alertness in his eyes, and though he tried to suppress it, there was a wee bit of shock too.

'Get used to the gore, Hodgy boy. It's part of your life now, especially here in Fordshed.'

Hodgeson was relatively new to this field. I mean he had a job in the department earlier, but it was mostly a desk job. The gang wars of the mid seventies had badly hit the Fordshed police department, leaving over a dozen officers with status KIA.

When finally it had cooled down with almost all the families killing each other off , Richardson had initiated a drive to fill up the vacated posts, with men from the desk. He had intended to replace them later with competent officers, but a week later he had died of a stroke and the replacement plans had never materialised.

Anyway, Hodgeson had come in through this route sometime in '76, because as he said, 'Chicks dig men of action.'

He was great at politically handling the situations, quietening possible scandals and other such stuff. I mean I had to give it to him, but blood and gore that wasn't really his area of expertise.