Cross-Over Murders by Frank F. Atanacio Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Nick PT Barnum was a tall, olive skinned man with dark features. He wasn’t at all God-like, but he was well built, and formidable. He had dark curly brown hair, and a square chin. He sat next to Detective Peter O’Brien of the Bridgeport Police department. O’Brien was a fair-skinned barrel chest man with a purposely shaved head. It was waxed, and kept up almost to perfection. He had no facial hair, and he always wore expensive suits. Even while riding in the motor boat to rescue Roman Deharte. They were a couple of characters, but they each benefitted the City of Bridgeport in their own way.
“What’s your name?” O’Brien asked.
Roman did not reply.
“I’m asking you this because when we reach shore, there will be a great deal of questions shot your way. I can do one of two things. Let you stand in front of those reporters, or rush you away to Bridgeport Hospital. It’s your choice.”
“My name is Roman,” he almost whispered.
“Thank you,” O’Brien added.
Roman Deharte was a Cuban male, very thin and perhaps a little over six foot three. He had a thin moustache and very thin eye-brows. He was light olive in color, but had very dark hair. In fact, it made him look pale. Perhaps it was just the water.
“So what were you looking for in the cold deep?” Nick asked the young man.
He just turned away as O’Brien covered him in a brown police issued blanket.
“Hey kid, I just saved your life!”
“Why? Why did you do it,” he shouted in a heavy Spanish accent. “Why did you feel the need to save my life?”
“Because you were drowning.”
“I wanted to drown!”
“What the hell for?” Nick asked.
“I was trying to be with my brother!”
Nick looked confused.
“He was killed!”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Nick said.
“What was his name?” O’Brien asked.
“It still is, even in death!” Roman shouted. “Names don’t die when the body dies, I’m surprised you don’t think that too.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right,” O’Brien added.
“Jaunito Deharte.”
O’Brien blinked as if he recognized the name. “Jaunito Deharte?”
“Yeah, that’s my brother.”
“What?” Nick inquired.
O’Brien glanced away briefly.
“What, you’re going to leave me in the dark after I got all wet for you pulling this guy out of the water?”
He called Nick toward him.
“He was one of the three murdered kids we found near Wentfield Park,” O’Brien started. “They were working for a contractor, and I guess murdered when they were dropped off. It was terrible, because they had no family and had to be buried near 70 Acres.”
“70 Acres?”
“It’s like a Potter’s Field.”
Nick Barnum nodded.
“It looks like this guy here is a family member to one of them,” said O’Brien.
“So they do have family,” Nick said.
“Well, not here, but in their own country,” O’Brien clarified.
“It’s a terrible thing,” Nick said. “Damn sad thing.”
O’Brien was a police officer for many years, and in those years he hated situations like this. Now he sat in a motor boat with a suicidal Cuban who had lost his brother to murder. In a way he didn’t blame Roman for wanting to take his life, but committing suicide was a coward’s way out of reality. That was O’Brien’s opinion, and he would certainly back it up in a fist fight if he had to.
“No, not good at all,” Nick said, and turned toward Roman Deharte who was seated in front of them wrapped in a blanket, but did not look cold at all. “What are we going to do with him.”
“We? Nothing,” O’Brien replied. “You’re not going to do anything. This is official police business. I suggest that you return to what you do best, and we’ll take it from here.”
“Come on, Pete!”
“You can’t keep putting your nose in our business,” O’Brien continued. “We need to protect and serve, and that’s going to be hard to do when you’re always on my ass.”
“You didn’t feel that way when you asked me to come along,” Nick said.
“That’s because we were on our way to a card game when I got the call of a possible suicide attempt!”
“You wanted me to come along so I can do the dirty work!”
“What dirty work?”
“I pulled him out of the water so you won’t get your new suit wet,” Nick threw back.
“It’s already wet!” Shouted O’Brien. “You’re just here because I couldn’t just drop you off anywhere. I did you a favor!”
“What kind of favor was that?”
“Nick, I could have just dropped you off in the middle of nowhere,” O’Brien continued. “But I didn’t and you should be grateful!”
“So that’s what you call a favor?”
“It’s what friends do.”
“Friends like this, I certainly don’t need enemies!”
“If you guys want,” Roman started. “I’ll just jump back into the water, so you guys could finish your fighting. I didn’t ask to be rescued.”
“Shut up and mind your business,” O’Brien snapped.
Nick laughed.
O’Brien laughed.
Roman closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall to his chest.
From:http://www.clothes007.com