There Will Be Blood (not mine)

19. Strategy for the Demise

3RD PERSON POV
Officer Robert Brown sat back in his swivel chair and gripped his hair.

The Chicago Police Department's offices were closed, only the night maids were up at this hour. He had been going through his files for the past six hours, not moving, not eating, not sleeping.

The Biebers were providing more of a problem than he ever thought possible. It was so hard to even think about what they were up to because they always stayed two steps ahead of the police. It was impossible to catch these fuckers. Who the hell were they?

The thing about Officer Robert Brown was that the more the Biebers outsmarted him, the more he was determined to catch them at their own game. He took his job seriously and didn't put up with bullshit, including the infamous Biebers.

Brown would have given up by now if he was any lesser man. He never gave up on a challenge.

Robert sighed a heavy sigh and sat up in his seat, taking a huge gulp of coffee.

"This shouldn't be that hard." He groaned, "I'm better than them."

It wasn't the fact that the Biebers were innocent but Brown didn't want to arrest Jeremy for tax evasion, Justin for a speeding ticket or Keegan on a morals charge. He was going for the big guns. Extortion, drugs, guns, illegal money laundering, murder; there was a list as long as the Chicago River but somehow nothing ever stuck.

Jeremy was clean. He never left tracks and his sons followed in his pristine record.

Brown thought back through his memory at what he was doing wrong. Why couldn't he catch them?

It was inconceivable that someone could be totally infallible. Even the Pope and some form of sin in him but if you looked at a Bieber's record, you would have never known that they were carrying any baggage. It was like they were clean without a smudge on them.

While Jeremy was the leader and Keegan was the muscle and Finn was the charmer, Justin was the second-in-command, the man in the most valuable position.

Who would take over when the father stepped down? Who would rise to become the boss? Who would everyone else answer to? Who would be the man in charge?

Justin.

That was who Brown was after. Maybe it was because they were around the same age, maybe it was because they had similar goals of superiority, or maybe it was the simple fact that Justin had taunted him for years but Robert Brown wasn't giving up until he had the second-in-command, in handcuffs.

An arrest of Justin Bieber would be an immediate career boost and on top of it all, Brown would be able to put his nemesis away for life.

The only problem was that Justin had a brain on him that rivaled any mathematician or Rhodes Scholar out there. It was shameful at how easily he could elude the law and still be living to tell his sorted tale.

"Hey, Boss." Daniel Flick walked into the office with a bag full of amazing smelling sandwiches, "I got you the regular pastrami on rye." He sat down and propped his feet up on the desk.

"I can't eat right now." Brown grunted, "I'm so pissed at myself."

"Why, what happened now?" Flick took a huge bite out of his meatball sub.

"I've been going over this shit for the past two weeks and I don't even think I've made a dent in these files." He pounded his fists on the desk.

"Oh come on. You can't beat yourself up over this thing. The Biebers are untouchable."

Brown glared at his deputy, "That's why no one's caught them yet. People think that they can get away with what they want..."

"I didn't mean anything by it but you've just got to wait for them to fuck themselves over."

"That could take years." Brown picked up a grainy black and white photo, "Do you see this guy?"

Flick nodded with a mouthful of food.

"That's Nicola Rossini aka Bieber. He started this whole family and he's still sitting pretty in Sicily. Granted, he's over one hundred but still..."

"So what does he have to do with anything?"

"He was smart but his grandson is smarter. Jeremy has created super machines for sons and I will catch them but I don't know how to pin them down."

"It's not like we haven't been trying. We've gone through all the files, we've been following them for weeks. What more do you want us to do?"

"I want you to catch the fuckers." In a rage, Brown shoved some papers off of his desk, "No one is above the law." He shouted.

"Whoa, Rob dude, calm down." Flick said, concerned that this case was going to give his boss and friend an aneurysm.

"I know, I know." Brown breathed in deeply, "I just can't stand Justin." He growled.

Flick chuckled, "Justin is one cocky son of a bitch but he's crafty."

"Whose side are you on?" Brown glowered.

"I'm on yours, Boss. Honest but you're going to kill yourself over this and they just aren't worth it. Let the Biebers come to an end on their own. We know half of the underworld is after them, especially Justin so it's not too much longer..."

"That's just the thing, half of the underworld has been after them for the past century. No one is ever going to take them down because they're too powerful."

"We just need an in. It shouldn't be this hard." Flick sat back in his seat.

They thought silently for about ten minutes, not saying anything because nothing was really worth saying.

This was driving everyone in the Organized Crime division crazy. Brown had halted all of his other inferior cases, allowing the majority of his time get filled with the Biebers. Flick, although he was young, was clever and could help in tight situations. It wasn't that easy for a deputy to think on his toes but Flick was good at what he did.

There was a knock at the door and a tired looking Embry Call was panting in the entrance.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Brown asked his other deputy.

"I...I ...I just ran up the stairs..." He sat in the other chair, grabbing Flick's bottle of water, "The elevators are out."

"If you were in shape, this wouldn't be a problem." Brown shook his head.

"I have a six pack, that automatically makes me in shape." Call downed the water, "Anyway, I have news."

"News?" Flick arched his eyebrow.

"Yeah and I couldn't find Bieber anywhere. Justin was like a ghost since yesterday and I found out from some guys I know over at the airport that Daddy Bieber charted his jet for a weeklong trip to Moscow."

"Really?" Brown leaned back with his hands crossed behind his head.

"Yes, really. They left yesterday and won't be back for five days."

"Good, that gives us five days to work freely." Brown got a new sense of excitement in him, "I assume he took all the boys?"

"Yeah."

"This is our chance to get in. We have to find a way to clip these fuckers at the knees." Brown sat up, going over his files one more time.

"The family is so tight. They don't leave any loose holes." Flick thought out loud after a couple of silent seconds, watching his boss go crazy at his desk.

Brown shifted the papers a little too quickly and a sharp pain stabbed the middle finger of his right hand.

"Shit." He said and watched as a small pool of blood began to pour out of the paper cut. A few drops dripped onto the files on his desk.

"Let me have a napkin." He said to Flick who handed one over.

Brown began to cleanly wipe the few beads of blood off of the files.

He was blotting the outside of another black and white picture when he saw something strange. Brown had looked through thousands of pictures and this particular one probably about fifty times alone.

This certain photo was strange because it was the only one where Justin was smiling. Out of the massive amount of photographs, only one was with a smiling Justin. What kind of sadistic fucker was this guy?

It was landscaped outside of one of the freshman dorms at Northwestern. Justin had been visiting there lately but no one thought anything of it since a few Bieber cousins attended the school.

On this particular occasion, Brown's blood had dripped in exactly the right spot, illuminating a certain portion of the picture that was hidden in the shadow of a tree. Justin was laughing towards the silhouetted figure and it had previously been shrouded in darkness due to the late afternoon time that the photo was taken but a certain halo appeared over the newly uncovered form.

Brown turned on the halogen desk lamp and held the photograph up so that the light shined through the portrait. There were students running around the quad, the trees were in full bloom and it was taken last week by a deputy who had been tailing Justin.

The spot of blood shined in the light from the lamp and a beautiful woman appeared to clarify in that very second.

Since the picture was taken in grayscale, distinctive characteristics such as eye or hair color couldn't be determined but at least Brown could tell that she was striking, totally unlike the other sluts Justin usually conquered.

Brown looked between Justin's smile and this new woman's beautiful face.

Who was she?

"Have you seen this?" He asked his deputies.

"What?" Call went behind the desk to get a better look.

"Who's this?" Brown pointed to the blood stained profile of the woman.

"Uh...I don't know." Was Call's answer.

"You've been tailing the fucker for a month and you don't know?"

"Sorry but it's not like I keep my eyes on him all day."

"She's wearing a Northwestern shirt and outside of the freshman dorms, find out who she is." Brown threw the picture at Flick.

A new sense of anticipation flowed through the officer who had finally found an in.

What stumped Brown the most was that he had looked at that picture dozens of times and he was still in the dark as to who that girl was. How had he not seen her before? He should have been more proactive about all of this. He should have known everyone in Justin's life. Who was this girl who made him smile?

It took Flick an easy fifteen minutes of searching the Northwestern University registrar to find the girl. He basically just hit the next button on the computer three hundred and twenty one times until she appeared.

"Her name is Madeleine Fell." Flick came barreling back into the office, "She's eighteen and from Thorp, Washington, wherever the hell that is."

Brown snatched the papers out of Flick's hand, quickly reviewing the information that came complete with a school photograph, "Eighteen?"

"Yeah just turned legal a month ago. We could get him on statuary if he's fucking her." Flick said hopefully.

"No. Too hard to prove, too much of a cop out. I want to hit him hard." Brown dispelled that theory.

For fifteen minutes, no one said anything and Brown read through everything that was to be known about Madeleine Fell.

A father who is a cop? Maybe that would be useful.

This was some shit that was only found in dramatic movies. What the hell had Bieber gotten himself into now?

Madeleine Fell was a freshman from some little town in Washington State and didn't have any kind of infraction against her so she was clean.

The more Brown thought about her, the more he realized that he had seen this girl before, twice in fact. They were both times when he wasn't really paying attention but he wished he had now. Each time, Justin was with her.

Once, they were laid out on the grass in the very quad in the picture, reading. When the hell did Justin ever read with a girl?

The second occurrence that sprung into Brown's mind was the time when he saw them eating ice cream and walking down State Street. Her hair was pulled up then so she could have been someone totally different but Brown didn't think so. It had to be her.

So...Justin had a girlfriend?

Suddenly, things snapped in Brown's head.

He looked between Flick, who was currently picking his teeth, and this Madeleine Fell in the photograph. Plans were formulated in his head within a second.

Brown had found his way in.
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