Noire: Detective of L.A.

Noire: Detective of L.A. Part 5

Noire: Detective of L.A.

Chapter 2: Buyer Beware, Part 2

Noire pulled up to Hartfield's. As he walked towards the entrance, Beckowski followed closely behind. When he entered the store, a man behind the counter greeted them. "Hello Officers. Can I interest you in a new watch?"

"I'm Officer Noire. Are you Edward Kalou?"

"Uh... No. Mr. Kalou is out back. He said he needed to lie down. I'll buzz him for you."

The man slowly turned around, then dashed madly towards the exit. "Son of a bitch! Get him Noire! I'll catch up with you!"

Noire vaulted over the counter, sprinting after Kalou. "Kalou!!! Get back here!"

Kalou ran down the back alley, behind the shop, towards a public park. "Shit." muttered Noire. "I can't shoot him. I might hit the other passerby. But he doesn't now that."

Noire stopped and fired his gun in the air. "Kalou! Stop right there!!"

Kalou froze, not turning around. Noire pushed him to the ground, and proceeded to handcuff him. Beckowski drove up in a jail car. As Noire dragged him towards the car, he said "Edward Kalou, you're under arrest for the murder of Everett Gage." He shoved him in the car, then closed the door.

"Nice going, Noire. That was pretty impressive. Let's get back to the station. The captain might want us there for interrogation."

When Noire entered the police station, he saw an old, but strong man standing in the hall. He clasped Noire's shoulders. "Ah, God's mill may grind slowly, but it grinds finely, son. I hear you also solved the Scooter Peyton case?"

"Yessir."

"Then tell me boyo - I hear you're quite the climber, a man of initiative. How would you like a chance to smite this man with the sword of justice?"

Noire was surprised. "You're asking me to conduct the interview, sir?"

"I am, young Noire. You've been with us for only a short time, and you've assembled yourself a stellar arrest record. Not to mention the fine work you did in the war, sending those heathens back to hell where they came from. I am curious, as whether to see if you can turn your hand to interrogation." The captain turned towards Noire. "Takes certain animal cunning, lad. You think you might be ready for that?"

Noire nodded. "Yessir. I think I am."

The captain looked towards the interrogation room. "Good man. You need many things for a conviction, young Noire. A motive, opportunity, hard evidence, and best of all, a confession. If you fail in the former, you can always acquire the latter using a modicum of violence to obtain it. How're you feeling lad?"

"Just fine, sir."

"Good man. The evidence is overwhelming. May the cat eat him, and may the cat be eaten by the devil. Bring me a confession, young Noire."

As Noire started for the door, the captain motioned at him. "This is your chance. Don't fail me."

"Yessir." said Noire, as he stepped into the interrogation room.

Kalou sat on the opposite side if the table, holding a cup of tea. He slammed the cup down. "Has my lawyer arrived yet? I want to see my lawyer."

"A lawyer can't help you, Mr. Kalou, you shot a man in cold blood." replied Noire. "You're going to have to pay for that."

"You followed Everett Gage and the girl back to the shoe store. You put five rounds in his back." stated Noire.

"Gage was a bastard. Whatever he got, he got what was coming. But it has nothing to do with me!"

Noire squinted at Kalou. "You shot Kalou, and we know why. We can put you at scene."

"You can't prove anything." Kalou smirked.

"Oh no?" Noire inquired. "We know all about the argument. Ms. Bandrup has put in a formal statement."

"You're counting on the girl? You think her testimony is gonna stand up in court!?"

"You're going to the gas chamber, Edward."

"That Jew-hating fuck wouldn't leave me alone! I had a sale, that girl was ready to buy!"

"I see. Let's change the subject. You fasting for Yom Kippur, Mr. Kalou?"

"Yeah, let's change the subject, you goy motherfucker. How about baseball!?"

"You're not denying you're a Jew, Mr. Kalou?"

"This is America, not Germany. It's not a crime."

"Some people don't like Jews, Mr. Kalou."

"Yeah, and I guess you're one of them."

"Mr. Gage hated Jews, didn't he?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Noire looked at Kalou. He had smug look plastered onto his face.

"You left-winged leaning parasite, you expect me to sit here, and listen to your drivel?"

"You call me that?... You sit there and call me those names, you goddamned goy putznasher!? You and that schtup Gage!"

"Why did you do it, Mr. Kalou?"

"Gage- he's in the Chamber of Commerce. He's in with all those momzers! He blocked every proposal I ever put forward! Kike this, and kike that! He's been trying to ruin my business for years!"

Kalou slumped into his chair. Noire stood up from the interrogation table. "Edward Kalou, I'm charging you with the first-degree murder of Everett Gage. I respect your beliefs and your right to hold them. I hope for your sake, the jury can commute to murder in the second degree. May God have mercy on you, sir."

As Noire stepped out of the interrogation room, he received a hearty slap on the back. "Masterfully done, Officer Noire." the captain proclaimed. He paused and asked, "It is just 'Officer' Noire, isn't it, lad?"

"Yessir, that's correct, sir."

"Then let me have a word with the Chief of Police, young Noire. The department needs some heroes. A shining honest face the public can admire. I applaud a man with your talent for unwavering justice. Back to your duties for now, boyo. But here's a piece if advice: get two suits, and get them pressed. You'll be needing them."

Until the captain walked away, Noire didn't realize what had happened.

He had been promoted.