The Chief of Police was standing over Captain Roque wiggling his finger directly in his face arguing about the case at hand. The other officers were able to look into his office, but they were not able to hear the screams. The glass windows were thick enough to keep the sounds out. It was what the captain wanted, and it was what he got.
“This city has stopped breathing,” the chief sighed. “But we as its protectors must breath life back into her.”
The captain nodded.
“We have a nut out there who is getting away with killing innocent people,” the chief continued.
The captain nodded.
The Chief of Police was a tall black male with a chiseled chin and cropped hair. He had always been in good physical shape, and it showed right through his custom made suits. He was always a good dresser, and a firm believer in exercise. He wanted the same for his men.
“I don’t want a yes man!” He shouted. “I want to see some results!”
“We’re digging sir.”
Chief of Police Gary Reeves, his face etched in grief, reached his hand out toward the captain. “Touch my hand!”
“Sir?”
“Do it!”
The captain touched his hand.
“What do you feel?”
“A hand, sir.”
“Is it real?”
“Yes.”
“Is it tangible?”
The captain nodded.
“Okay, now try to reach out and touch the fear in these people eyes that live in this fair city,” he ordered. “Do it!”
“What?”
“Reach out and try to touch the fear that exists!”
“You want me to reach out?” The captain asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “Try to reach out and touch the fears in the eyes of the people we are paid to protect!”
“I can’t,” said the captain.” I can’t touch the fear.”
“Do you know why?”
“Fear isn’t tangible?”
“Oh no, fear is very tangible,” said the chief of police. “But it’s inside the heart and behind the eyes.”
The captain agreed.
The young man we found at Wentfield Park had his arm chopped off!” Shouted the chief.
“I know,” said the captain. “I believe his name was Manual Rodriguez.”
“Damn straight!”
“He was being chopped to pieces, but I guess something made the murderer change his mind,” the captain added.
“But we won’t change our minds, we will find this son of a bitch and tie his balls to a flag pole! We’ll let everyone see that if you fuck with this city, you’re going to get your balls cut off and handed back to you!”
The captain nodded.
“We need to restore confidence to this city!”
“I agree.”
“There is no confidence, there is nothing but fear!”
“One sick bastard is causing it,” added the captain.
“They have no trust in us!”
“We will restore it sir,” said the captain.
“Do you wanna know why this is happening to our citizens?”
The captain nodded slowly.
“Because we have nothing on the Cross-Over murderer. He’s still out there causing the fear you can’t touch,” said the chief. “He’s still out there making us look bad. Taunting us!”
The captain didn’t blame the chief for yelling and screaming. He knew that Reeves was a good man at heart. During his tenure as captain, he had always known how to lighten his heart when all else failed him. He had always known how to handle a situation that would have buried one of his men. He was there when the citizens of Bridgeport needed him. He was giving, and he was honest. In return, his men gave him the respect he deserved. It was the captain’s turn now, to give Reeves all the respect he deserved. So if yelling is what Reeves wanted to do, the captain would accept it into his heart.
“I’ll make sure we double our efforts sir,” said the captain.
“Good, that will be acceptable.”
The captain smiled.
The chief smiled.
“How was your vacation sir?”
“Good, thanks,” replied the chief. “Oh, I brought you a present.”
“What?”
“I brought you a present, “he repeated, reaching into his jacket pocket, from which he produced a genuine Cuban cigar. He placed it on top of the desk and smiled. “This is for you, my friend.”
“Cuban?”
“Nothing but the best.”
The captain smiled.
Reeves cell phone purred. “Reeves here. When? Okay, sit tight, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Mayor?”
“No higher.”
“Governor?”
“My wife.”
The captain laughed.
The chief left.
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