Noire: Detective of L.A.

Noire: Detective of L.A. Part 11

Noire: Detective of L.A.

Chapter 4: A Marriage Made in Heaven, Part 2

After calling R&I, only one license plate registered with '3C8' and a red Lincoln Continental. William Sheldon. His address was given and they quickly drove towards his home.

"Looks like we caught a lucky break on this one." Jackson commented. "Getting that partial ID was a real stroke of luck. These cases are usually dead in the water if no one comes forward within twenty-four hours."

"Why don't they just stop?" asked Noire.

"You heard about 'fight or flight' during the war?"

"Sure. 'Never back your enemy into a corner'. Stuff like that."

"Right. Well, in a hit and run, the perp is already in flight. It's easier to keep going. Takes a degree of moral courage to stop and accept responsibility." said Jackson quietly.

Noire looked at his partner thoughtfully. "You're not as dumb as you make yourself out to be, are you Stefan?"

"I didn't know I was making myself out to be dumb." Jackson said smiling.

The car was in front of the apartment house. The car was red, with a battered front. Noire and Jackson decided they would stake it out to try and catch Sheldon. As the morning sun rose, Noire's attention was caught by a skinny man with two large bags. He opened the trunk to the car.

"That's the son of a bitch, right there!" said Jackson.

Noire stepped out of the car. "William Sheldon?"

The man froze. Not turning, he answered. "Yes?..."

"It doesn't look good, Sheldon, you packing your bags and making a run for it. You know why we're here."

"The... accident." Sheldon stammered.

"We've got witnesses who can put this car at the scene, not to mention the physical damage. This is open and shut, Sheldon."

Sheldon paused, flung his suitcase at Noire's head, then sped off in his vehicle.

Noire caught the bag, tossed it aside, jumped into his car, and hit the gas. "That coward thinks he can run from everything!" shouted Jackson. Tires squealed as Noire chased after Sheldon. Sheldon drifted and turned wildly, narrowly missing some pedestrians and cars. "Lay into his wheel arches, Noire! C'mon!"

Noire rammed his car into the red Lincoln, but it wasn't enough to disable the car. "Enough games, Noire! Take this guy out!" Noire tried for another shot at the wheels, but Sheldon suddenly drove into opposing traffic, then back out. Noire missed death by an inch. "No wonder he killed someone, driving like this!" shouted Jackson. "Don't let that asshole get away!"

Sheldon tried making another sharp turn, but he accelerated too much. As he spun out, Noire smashed into his front wheels, disabling the car. Sheldon cried out, "Alright! I give up!"

Noire jumped out the car. "Show me your hands!" Jackson yanked Sheldon out of the car and cuffed him. "How does a vehicular manslaughter rap sound, Sheldon?" Noire asked angrily.

"I-I hit him. I admit it. I just panicked, but it wasn't my fault!"

"What do you mean?"

"The guy jumped right out in front of me. He came out of nowhere, there was nothing I could do about it!"

"Why didn't you stop?!"

"I've... had accidents before..."

Noire threw up his arms. "That's it. Cuff him and we're done here. The DA is gonna love you."

"They weren't all my fault! I'm a surveyor. I need my license for my job! There were people around. And a man and a woman were standing right next to him, I thought they could get him to a hospital! I'm telling you, it's not fault!"

"The guy is dead, Sheldon." Noire said bluntly.

"You... you can't be serious?!..."

"William Sheldon, you're coming Downtown. We need to talk about a manslaughter charge."

Noire watched the jail car drive away. "Leave the coroner and paperwork. Procedure can wait." said Jackson. "We should probably go talk to the wife, let her know what's happening."

Noire stepped into the car. "Okay, Jackson. You become all heart at the prospect of paperwork, don't you? You can drive to this one."

Jackson sat behind the wheel, leisurely driving down the street. "Can you believe him???" asked Jackson incredulously.

"I believe he didn't mow down the victim on purpose. The rest of it stinks. His boohoo story about being a surveyor and not wanting to lose his license."

"Well, let's see how he enjoys surveying the same tiny room for ten years of his life. You make a mistake, you face the consequences. You don't run off and hide like a little girl, hoping that it'll all go away."

"People make bad decisions in the heat of the moment, Jackson."

"Well, I'd like to see him try that one with the judge. If he had time to clock who was at the scene, he had time to make a choice."