Saturday, June 2, 2012

LINE GOES DEAD






It was four fifty seven – the sun would be up soon and he wondered if trying to get a few more winks was worth it. He lay haunted and troubled, turning, adjusting, covering, uncovering, uncomfortable.

He’d seen someone leave the complex the night of the murder and yet chose not to report it. The problem wasn’t so much what he saw but who. He could not identify anything but a dark shape and a cast shadow walking briefly from behind a light stanchion to the parking garage door. He could have missed it with a blink and convinced himself it was only a shadow, nothing more. But ‘nothing more’ doesn’t cast a shadow does it? And there on the edge of the light pool was a shape, but it took a moment of adjustment as he looked up from his laptop screen and his eyes focused. What time had it been? A glance to the menu bar – 3:23 AM. That had to be important to someone. But then they probably had a handle on that from science. He was trying to dismiss it, fooling himself again, and knew it. He finally gathered the courage, Googled the number and punched it in, his cellphone on speaker.

Davis Police Depart, her weary voice resigned but polite, probably approaching the end of a long shift.
I saw something at the Stanton Apartments.
She perked immediately, Are we discussing last night’s incident, sir?
We are.
May I get your name and number in case I lose you? I will attempt to reach the officer in charge currently in the field.
Mark Landreth…
With an “S”?
‘ t – h…L A N D R E T H. Landreth. 221 – 8767
Local? 502?
Yes.
You live in the unit sir?
Across the court. Next building over –The Hallmark, on Lark.
Let’s see if we can get you through. Hold on… 
And with that the line went dead. Dawn was breaking.

Landreth was now in a quandary. Does he wait patiently for the phone to ring or does he go in and make a statement before heading to his job? If he was to go downtown, the number 8 bus would soon enough make it’s pass, and Now would be the time to take action. He paced, then decided to wait. They had his contact information, he had done his part. Should he call into work? Would he be late? This was peak holiday season and the bookstore was experiencing a swell of business due to the new tablets. His failure to show could be a dangerous, job ending decision. Should he call Marie? Yes!

Marie? Mark. I am awaiting a call from the police and… I’m okay…I was witness to some activity that may be related to a murder….yes THAT one…next building over. I know….you sure? So sorry, I…thank you, yes. I will pick up Saturday if that helps…Good..You’re very welcome. Thank you. I will.
His stomach in knots from the mounting anxiety, and try as he did to ignore it, could do so no longer. He ran with urgency to the bathroom, dropped his trousers and drawers, and as his ass touched the cold rimmed seat of relief, came the knock on the door.
Nooooo!  He moaned, past the point of no return, and as the knocking became more insistent so did his needs, until finally his bowels did their job, but by this time someone was shouting, “Mr Landreth. Police! Sir, you need to open up and talk to us.”
WAIT! WAIT! Give me a second will you? I…I will be right there!”
I must insist that you open the door!
And I must insist that you respect my need to eliminate!
Wha…?  Two minutes. Two minutes, sir. Then I ask the manager to open up. You ARE Mark Landreth are you not?
I am and I am incapacitated at the moment. Can we do without the dialogue sir?
Two minutes, sir, or we come in and yank your ass of that crapper.
 At the two minute mark, Mark was hiking up his pants and answering the door simultaneously. The detective was taken aback by the obvious odiferous verification of the act as described by the witness, and officers were most hesitant to enter. “Sorry sir. We…Detective Warton. DPD.”
“I am a witness detective, not a suspect.”
“I believe that, but we must take everything into consideration. It is not unusual for suspects to involve themselves as innocent bystanders…”
“This has been very stressful and I usually get that in the gut…”
“Understand.
”I called to tell you what I saw. Should I regret that decision?”
“Not if it is the truth.
My point exactly. I should be allowed to speak my truth, as I saw it. And let’s not exaggerate what I may have seen…it’s…partial…”
“How do you partially see, sir?
I was distracted while working, I saw a shadow and a shape, go from…come here detective…you see that door? That is the parking garage for this unit, and that light is on the walkway that runs the length of the entire unit and leads to that door. In that pool of light I saw a shadow pass, and a shape right along the edge, like he was trying to stay on the dark…”
He?
Trousers and heavy shoes- the lower torso…looked like a he from what I could see, and that was pretty much in silhouette. Heavy footed, striding with purpose, not panic  – could have been a woman, but aggressive…definitely controlled…not running – 1 –2 - there, then gone, the door opened and shut and he…they…were gone. Swish.
Did you notice the time?
 By my laptop: 3:23
Huh. Okay. That’s it?
The time is the surest thing I can verify, but the person, not so much…there are cameras around the garage…
We are reviewing ALL evidence sir. This does help us nail down the time, if it’s related. Could you see their hands?
Hands? No. Why? You thinking a weapon? Nothing like that.
Things may have been taken from the unit. Wondering if he had a burden…a box?… a duffel? Perhaps heavy…
He didn’t walk like it. It was quick and fluid, no struggle with the door, so I’d assume his hands were free.
Could you show me?
Show you what? I just did, you can see from here…
No, could we go down and reenact what you might have seen? Could you do that?

As Mark opened the door he was surprised by a uniformed officer standing guard in the hallway, hand ready on his revolver, Warton waved him off, but Landreth was uneasy with the attention and the ratcheted tension of the moment. 
Lead the way, Mr Landreth.
And so he did. Once they reached the spot, Warton looked back up to the Mark’s window, verifying the line of sight. Mark repeated the act, satisfied that by the third attempt that he had established the act as precisely as he could recall it. That’s what I saw. Right there. Just like that.
I see. Fluid, unrestricted.
Purposeful.
Did you hear a vehicle start up? See anyone drive off?
Neither? Didn’t hear, and can’t really see anything from this side of the building.
Warton reviewed the sight line and nodded, then handed him his card and said the usual if-you-think-of-anything business, and they parted. The uniformed officer lingered and eyed Landreth for a beat, making him uneasy. Did you have a question, Officer?
Did you know the victim, sir?
No. Why would I?
Without answering, the officer tipped his cap, turned and followed Warton into the garage.
Mark let a sigh of relief, his burden lighter now that he'd met his civic duty, he worked his neck to relief the tension, glancing up at the sky. Should be a nice day, big white clouds, blue sky…why were people staring down from their apartments? He saw four, two withdrew altogether upon being spotted, one woman stepped back into the shadows but lingered, but that one guy just stood and stared unflinching. Mark had never considered that he would be so publicly viewed. He was now a witness out in the open. They saw him with the police. And, what was it they suspected? His colon contracts.





earthen wear


In the cluster muck now bucko


Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Adieu


Patrice phoned Andre from the station. A storm had passed through, and she’d been abandoned. The tour had fallen apart, the guide guileless and resentful of tourists, which is not an asset given the circumstance and the position, informed them he’d had enough. He’d had enough of the gossip, the chatter, and the drama from a small flock of club-women from Savannah. He called them "empty-headed finches.” Andre chuckled, “tsk tsk…”

"Yes, He claimed, as a group, all encompassing mind you, that we stank and had the intelligence of toads."

“Finches and toads. That’s a bit harsh. Sorry. My countrymen….some of them…can be quite rude…” Andre sympathized.
“No more so than mine. I won’t say I disagree about the finches, either.”
“So we have our buffoons. Humans are fools, as a group, I fear.”
“Aren’t we though?” she laughed.
So? About your being stranded? Are there no cabs? Surely in this weather…”
The canal has washed out a bridge. The other is congested. I am stuck for awhile, but someone will show up.
Why don’t I…?
No. Don’t do that. It would be insanity to get involved in such a mess, and the weather could get ugly again, I fear. I’d worry for your safety. And Dooby is starting to show her age…”
Andre laughed. His Renault was nickname Dooby, because he loved to play Sinatra, top down, and croon aloud, “dooobie doo be doo…” Foolishly they’d drink wine and drive for hours over the countryside, then find an inn to dine and finish the night.
“Good times with old Dooby. But you are right, she’s having some issues of late. I could borrowed my neighbor Jean’s, car.”
“The Ferrari!” she laughed.
“He’s a good guy. He would let me…”
“Not in this weather and he’d be right! I will sit and bide my time.”
“Are you warm? Where you are, is there heat?”
“Yes, now there is. It was a bit bitter in the night, but toasty at the moment. I’m almost dried out.”
“Poor dear.”
“No, actually I am good. A kind lady gave me a shawl. Quite a beautiful shawl…well worn, but warm, and most generous of her…”
Is this Lady heading into town? Perhaps…”
“No she was outbound. Heading South to see her family. Their father had passed away. Funeral.”
“Too bad.”
“No, she said it was a relief. He had suffered.
“then all the well, to stop the pain.”
“Her sentiments exactly.”
“Are you alone? Safe?”
“There’s the station master and a few rail men. A handful of business men and some working women. A quiet bunch huddled around the stove right now.”
“I enjoyed our visit.”
“As did I.”