Guns And Roses

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Walker had soon reached The Precinct, and taken the elevator to the seventh floor. The sense of déjà vu which he had been expecting didn’t come. The frenzied workplace had become calmer now. He thought that he should first tell the Chief everything, as he’d been kept in the dark about most things for long enough. He knocked on the door, before waving towards Thornton’s direction, who with his weary smile, said that things hadn’t gone well at Aberdeen Place. No clue of any sort had been found. The organization’s perfect execution record was apparently still intact. Walker didn’t have any high hopes anyway, so he just shrugged his shoulder. At that very moment, the Chief beckoned towards Walker, who readily entered his cabin.

The first impression made on whoever entered this cabin for the first time, was an everlasting one. It was of a dark yet attractive brown shade, with a much lighter shade on the ceiling. There was a fully functioning and first-rate Air-Conditioner placed right above the Chief’s desk. The desk was about 5 feet high, just shorter than the Captain himself! On its surface lay a family picture of Kevin Rutt, along with a prized clock which Walker knew had been given to the Chief on his first birthday after marriage, by his wife. It contained a picture of both husband and wife, around which the seconds, minutes and hours hands moved. There was also a cosy-looking divan, near the desk. Other than that, the room was further embellished by cotton carpeting on the floor, and a black desk with a blue chair, on which The Chief Commissioner of the NYPD presided.  

“Sit down, Walker,” said Chief Rutt warmly. Walker sat down on the divan, which was as comfortable as it had looked. “Well then, I presume you haven’t seen the Forensics report yet, but you’re in quite an excited state of mind, as far as I can see,” he said, slightly smiling. Walker didn’t exactly share the feeling. He immediately plunged into a narration of all the things that the Chief had initially been privy to. His voice kept shaking throughout the part where he had to tell Rutt about the probable hostage victims, being his very own close friends, but he got through it somehow.

The Chief maintained a straight face throughout Walker’s narration, even the personal part which connected him closely to the case. After he ended, Rutt said, “Now, I need to ask you one thing before we can talk about anything else. Can you handle yourself throughout this case? Taking you off the case will only make your will stronger on finding out about this organisation, so that isn’t an option. But I need to hear it from you, if you are capable of handling yourself well while investigating,” he finished sternly. “Sir, I am perfectly capable of handling myself throughout the course of this case’s investigation,” said Walker mustering up as much of his courage and professionalism as he could. “That’s all for the best, then,” said Chief Rutt letting out a sigh. “I believed you could do it, but just needed to hear it once from you, just be sure.” Walker nodded, acknowledging Rutt’s statement. “Well,” started Chief Rutt, “as Thornton must have already told you, we couldn’t find any hint as to the identity of our murderers from, your house. As expected, no fingerprints were left on the spear. It’s your case, Walker,” said the Chief, eyeing him closely, “how do you think we should proceed?”

“Firstly, I would like to go through the Forensic Report closely, before jumping to conclusions,” said Walker simply. “I have no doubt, that you are right, Detective,” said Rutt. “Rather than paining yourself by reading the entire thing, I believe that the industrious Thornton has noted down the main points of interest. Why don’t you ask him about it?” he asked. Walker obliged, and walked out of the cabin, straight towards Thornton.

“Anything interesting on that Forensic Report?” asked Walker, rubbing his temples, having once again narrated the singular and strange revelations which took place in the past 3 hours, to Thornton.

“Well, I guess you could say that,” said Thornton with a slight frown across his face. “But before that, I do not understand one thing about these chains of events. Where did the blood come from?” he asked, looking Walker straight in the eye. “I mean through your theory, you’ve clearly solved the identity crisis. Now, according to the autopsy report, all the victims had been poisoned. The poison had been administered to all seven of them through a beverage, most likely coffee, which was the last thing each of them had consumed. It would have clearly masked the odour and taste of the poison. It’s Arsenic, by the way.” Walker just nodded, still waiting for Thornton’s next statement.

“Anyways,” he said right on cue, “that is something else. Coming back to my point, you see, the blood of the actual victims isn’t on the floor according to the DNA test. Also according to you, your companions have been held hostage. Now the blood in the bar’s backroom was more than enough to show the deaths of seven people. If so, I’m sorry to say, your friends would be dead. But, you say they’re being kept hostage. Then, clearly the question arises: Where indeed, did the blood come from?” Thornton finished in a soft voice. “Or have your friends already been... killed,” he added, with slight pain in his voice. It turned out that even Thornton had a cordial friendship with Aaron Bryant and Kyle Sullivan.

“Have you perceived what is the primary motive of this organization?” asked Walker, in a slightly gruff voice. Thornton shook his head. “It’s to make my life a living hell. They want to torture me, taunt me by spreading news of the murders of my friends, at every turn of this puzzling mystery,” said Walker vehemently, with disgust. “This is their motive; as to why they are doing this, I cannot ascertain yet. Obviously, if they kill my friends, the torture won’t last. By keeping them alive, they have an invisible leash, an insurance policy if you will, over me. Naturally, such a smart group of people would understand that, and keep them alive for their own interests. Am I wrong?” Walker silently challenged Thornton.

“The excessive blood still remains a mystery then,” remarked Thornton, unfazed. “Yes, that is true,” accepted Walker. “Still, we are making progress, aren’t we? We know that the blood is not of the victims, nor of the hostages. It’s either been taken from a previously murdered third party of people, or from a hospital specialising in blood transplants, the first being much more probable,” spoke Walker with his eyes closed and his head arched upwards towards the ceiling. “These men are hell-bent on making my life miserable, and killing more people to do so, wouldn’t pose as much of a problem for them at all,” he ended. “Well there’s nothing else in the forensic reports, so the rest is on us,” said Thornton, closing the vast file, with an air of finality.

Walker stretched himself before pulling back the sleeve of his linen shirt and seeing the time. It was two o’clock.

“I don’t know about you, Thornton, but I could sure do with some lunch. We didn’t have breakfast in our hurry,” said Walker, surprised at the sound of his own grumbling stomach. “Sure,” assented Thornton, “let’s go.”

Both of them went out of the Precinct, and sat down in Walker’s Vibe. They both had a favourite eatery, where the best lunch in New York, in their united opinion, was available. They soon reached 44th Street on Madison Avenue, where a huge board was present. “Joe’s Luncheon”, it read. They soon went in and satisfied their culinary cravings with completely different talk from murder, whilst enjoying medium rare cooked lamb tenderloin, with a non-alcoholic beverage, as they were still on duty after all. After paying the bill, both men stepped out into the evening air of the Big Apple.

They were soon back at The Precinct; it was around thirty-past-three by that time. Walker soon met Larkin back at his desk, who was looking like a new man after a few hours of much needed sleep. He had tried establishing contact with the families of the deceased, but they hadn’t any, to his surprise.

He had also tried to establish some contact with the supposed hostages’ families, but none of them knew where they had suddenly disappeared. This was a blow, as Walker had expected that the wives of at least one of his companions would have known where they had been.

In any case, Walker patted Larkin on the back for a job well done, and sat down upon his rotating chair behind his desk; Thornton sitting nearby.

This is going to be a long day, Walker thought, as he put his hands behind the back of his head and leaned on his chair.

He had no idea.