Guns And Roses

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Walker was an unusually early riser as a rule, yet the drinks shared with his companion last night had surely had an effect on him. He got up from the couch and stretched himself, letting out a loud yawn. He proceeded to wake up Thornton, who at seeing the time on his table-clock, rushed into the bathroom and started by furiously brushing his teeth. The unfortunate thing was that only one bathroom was available, and Walker had to wait before Thornton had completely freshened up. By the time Thornton was out, it was already five minutes past nine, whereas the reporting time at the Precinct was nine ‘o’clock sharp, as per the Chief’s strict instructions. Walker advised Thornton to leave right away, as he himself would explain things to Chief Rutt when he arrived. Thornton left immediately, whilst Walker took his bath, and put on his favourite dark coloured coat over a hurriedly packed white linen shirt and greyish pants. It was ten by the time Walker was taking his Beretta out of his rucksack, and no more than thirty-past-ten before he reached the Precinct.

The Precinct itself was a colossal building, standing out amongst its fellow buildings by a mile, in Lower Manhattan, 42nd Street. It was a very dark-shade of grey, subtly hinting towards its long history. There were about ten floors, yet its width made it look even more prominent. Two guards were at all times present at each of the three entrances into the building. Walker was now entering through the middle one, after getting out and locking his Vibe. He greeted the officers, and proceeded into the Precinct.

The Chief, his subordinate colleagues and Walker himself operated from the seventh floor. The other floors were mainly for their cyber division, storing the files of old cases, and so on. They also had a fully functioning gym on the tenth floor, which Walker used every day before starting his work. Today, however, he was late. As a result he took the stairs as a substitute for exercise. In no time he reached the seventh floor, a little out of breath, but maintaining his massive physique well. He entered the room, only to find a frenzied workplace, which wasn’t usually the case here. Probably yesterday’s murders, he thought.

“Where were you, Walker?” questioned Chief Kevin Rutt, much more surprised than disappointed. “You’re late by an hour and a half! What took you so long?” he asked. “Sir, I apologise for this unusual conduct of mine,” he began, “However I have a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why I, and as you may have noticed Thornton, was late.” He once again recounted the unusual events which took place at Aberdeen Place, and the consequent moving to Shane’s place temporarily. The Chief looked quite concerned after hearing Walker’s account of last night. “You sure you all right?” he asked. Walker nodded. “Well then,” started Rutt, regaining his professionalism, “the threat you received last night certainly points towards a gang or organisation being at play here, doesn’t it?” he remarked. “I perceived as much,” said Walker. “Sir, I think the first thing we should do next, is send Forensics to my place, in hopes of extracting some evidence from the driven harpoon in my room. Though this group of people have till now portrayed perfection in all matters, they might have made a little trip in their ways,” he finished. “I thought as much,” started the Chief. “It’s clearly a long shot, but in such a matter no stone must be left unturned.” He gave instructions to Walker to come up to speed with all that had been found out during the night, about the victims, while he sent a team over to Aberdeen Place. They parted, and Walker went over to his subordinate, a bespectacled and dull yet bright-minded person, Christian Larkin, for the latest news on the murders.

“Good morning, Detective Walker,” greeted Larkin in his characteristic bland fashion. Walker returned the greeting with a slightly better humour, whilst still maintaining his professionalism.  He continued after taking a chair, “What’s the news, Larkin?” Christian Larkin rubbed his nose, before removing his horn-rimmed glasses and widening his pale-brown eyes. “We don’t have much to go on till we get the results from the Lab, but we will be getting them by today afternoon, which is quite good,” he spoke. “The only option left for us, was to initially identify the victims, and then go on to establish some relationship between all or any of them.” “That’s correct,” said Walker, approving of this methodical manner, and now keenly listening to Larkin’s each word.

 Urged on by his senior’s approval, Larkin went on, “Well, as none of the faces of any of the victims were disfigured, identifying them was no big task. I won’t pain you by naming all of them; I’ve mailed it to you, but will just say that all of them were well-to-do men, and had achieved considerable fame and respect in their lines of work. The relationship factor is however,” he sighed with unease, “proving to be much harder to ascertain. As far as I see it, if you had randomly picked up seven men in New York, you wouldn’t find any more of a relationship between them than between the victims. I’ve stayed awake the entire night, going over their financial records, families, relations and friends, without achieving any hint which could relate one man to another.” Larkin was indeed weary-eyed, and was warmly rubbing his eyes, trying to stay awake.

“Don’t work yourself up too much Larkin,” said Walker as he rose from his seated position and patted him on the back. “You’ve done a decent job of at least identifying the victims, and given your best shot at establishing a relationship between them. Mind you, the killers are professionals, and matching the victims, somehow, won’t be an easy task. But rest assured, there will be one,” he ended. “As for now, go back home and rest, as consuming excessive caffeine in the hopes of staying awake, won’t do you any good.” The words hadn’t yet left Walker’s mouth that Larkin had shut down his computer, arranged his files, and with a grateful nod, rushed out of the Precinct through the elevator. Walker grinned at the scene, and thought that he could himself do with some coffee.

Taking a sip of the surprisingly well-flavoured coffee, Walker sat down upon his desk chair, a good ten feet away from Thornton’s desk, who had gone with the Forensics team that the Chief had sent to Aberdeen Place. Knowing the way to Walker’s house, Thornton must have been the ideal navigating candidate.

Now, blocking out all that was unimportant to his present case, Walker read the names of the victims, mailed to him, by Larkin. He expected commonplace names, as Christian hadn’t stressed much upon any of them and even the Chief wasn’t giving this case any special status. However, as soon as he started reading the names, one by one, the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He was absolutely horrified. Why?

All of them were his friends. He knew these men. Finally, the warning made sense. It wasn’t made to him because he was the lead investigator in the case.

He was this brutal and relentless organization's next intended victim.