22 October 2012
Chapter I - Riverside Hotel
"Through here detective" said the officer, as i was lead in to a small room in a seedy hotel by the river. My name is Jack Caesar, detective in the NYPD for 8 years, i started most nights like this, dark hotels by the river, rooms lit up only by the neon lights on the street cutting through the blinds like lasers. But this hotel was especially ceedy, The Riverside Hotel. I had been on cases in the lower east side since i got my badge, they were your normal homicides; murder for love, prostitution, money, drugs and your occasional housewife murder. i started the night off thinking this would be the same old case. "holy shit" i exclaimed as i walked into a room were blood and guts covered the walls, the smell of rotten flesh and a pool of sick, most likely that of the beat cop that found her. Yes her, a young woman by the looks of it to, not too pretty and guessing by her clothes one of vice. There she laid tied to the bed with her abdomen sliced open and its contents spilled out onto the once white sheets. This was a scene unlike any i had seen before, thus the reason i froze with amazement, staring into the void as the doctor from the City Coroners Office gave me the low down. "Okay Jack, murder, victim was sliced open with a sharp cutting tool, we'll have to take some measurements back at the office as we cant find a suitable murder weapon. We'll take some further tests and a toxicology report to see what killed her, although judging by the position of the victim she was squirming as the blade entered her abdomen. Victim was a Violet Pemberton. we recoverd her bag from beneith the bed, must have been kicked under during the ordeal." he explained. "We've done a thorough search of the scene Jack, theres no sign of the victims heart" he continued with a chilling edge of realism. After examining the scene and taking notes, i hatlstly moved into the hallway and began my routine check for suspects. Unfortunatly it was mid week and all the rooms where empty, only a guy working the door on the bottom floor. As i got to the bottom of the staires i found a small window of a closet sised room where he sat, watching a small portable tv goormlessly. "Have you been here all night sir?" i asked. "huh, what..." he turns to look at me asif i had woke him up. "...yeah, yeah. I been on since 10 last night" he said, turning back to the screen, fiddling with the antener. "did you see who booked the room sir?" i asked. "Yeah, she was a usual, Violet ithink her bame was" confirming the victim and the person in question were the same. "she rented rooms out most nights, if you know what i mean" he continued, winking and smirking at me. "I see and does she always book the same room?" i asked. BANG! He hit the small TV with a long sweep, almost knocking it off the table. "No, usually she books the room at the end of the hall, but it was unavailable due to a leak. She booked that one because it's the cheapest and the one upstaires is the cheapest one besides, so i guess she booked it for the same reason." He said glancing at the TV. I decided to leave him to his shows, walking down the hallway to the room he spoke of i could still hear him banging the TV set. I arrived at a door with a patchyness on the door that read out Private as if the lettering had been removed. I opend the door to find a small room with a water tank in the corner that looked asif it serverd the whole building, a horrid stench of damp lingured in the air. A small bed beside it with a chest of drawers and a dim light hanging from the ceiling is all that the small room consisted of. As i looked around the room i could see nothing of any relivence until i turned to see a dark blue sports jacket on a hook behind the door, I could smell a welcomed fragrence of expensive colounge. I found a small labelinside that had the name of an expensive suit makers, Corona & Sons on 5th avenue, too expensive for me. The whole fact it was there made me suspicios of why an expensive jacket like this would have been left in a place like this. As i shuffeled around in the pockets i found a stirling silver box, a cigarette case. It had the enitials T.S inscribed. i took them both and made my exit, closing the door behind me with the jacket and cigarette case in hand I took a gasp of the air that surronded me, it may have been the stench of decades of sin but it was better than the damp of the room. I made my way to my car parked outside, past the nightman, still bashing at the TV. As i walked through the hotel doors the sunlight made me squint as i looked at my watch, 6:35am. It was early and i decided to seize the oppertunity to check out the suit makers lead, as it would be open by the time i had crossed the bridge.
Chapter II - The Jacket
"Detective; Jim Turner, Evening Edition. Can we have a statement?". Asked a reporter as i put the jacket into the trunk of my car, suprising me i dropped the cigarette case on the floor. "Drop something Detective?" he said picking it of the floor, dusting it off and giving it a good look. "Give that here!" i said, as though it was mine, quickly putting it in my pocket. "You wanna' statement, sure. It's got cockroaches and smells but the beds are comfy, 2 stars!" i said mocking him. "Very funny Detective..." he said folding his arms. "The murder, can we have a statement about the murder, Detective...?". I looked him up and down, his creassed shirt with his folded up sleves, loose tie and stained hat. "Detective Jack Ceaser, no statements at this time except for its not a murder investigation and asuming is gonna' get you in trouble, boy!" I said walking around to the drivers side of my car. "Well then Detcective Ceaser, i guess theres no story here..." he said as i climbed in to my car. "...And i guess that cigarette case isn't evidence too, sir!" He added. I could already tell this guy was gonna be a little different to your usual reporter, he was hungry, smart and even more annoying. But this wasn't exactly a normal case either. I was driving across the bridge, sun rising above the river, thinking who the owner of the jacket and case could be. Maybe a customer, after all the smell of the cologne was still strong. It all seemed to nice to be anything or anyone else's I thought. But then why would they be in the bed of a cheap hotel, with a street corner broad and on this side if the river. The reporter, realising the case wasn't mine from the enitials and my reaction when he touched it, I knew i'd probably run into him again. "MOVE IT!" I looked around to see an angry Cab driver behind me, eyes like daggers and pushing his horn in like a mad man. I had been thinking and forgot about the traffic lights. Driving into downtown, I came to 5th avenue just as someone were opening the shutters, I pulled up outside and grabbed the jacket from my trunk. "Excuse me, I found a jacket with a cigarette case in the pocket, i was wondering if you could tell me to whom it belonged so i can return it?" I said to an old gentleman, wearing a suit that was probably more expensive than my car and his hair whiter than the ivory pin on his tie. "We are not open to the public for another 45 minitues, you can come back then" he said looking me up and down. "Let's call it an official enquiry" I said, flipping the badge out of my coat pocket. "The same goes for the Police" he said walking into the store and locking the door behind him. Eventually the time passed and i walked in the store. A bell rang as I entered and out he popped from somewhere out back. There was fabrics of the finest sorts on rolls that lined the walls, all kinds of colours and patterns that one could only imagine the kind of customers that came in here. I walked up to the counter and before i opend my mouth, he said "I would not remember who bought that jacket, it's popular fashion for a sports jacket." "I see, well do you keep an order book or a record of these things?" I asked. "Only for certain customers, but I would remeber those". I realised this old man didn't want me to be there, checking over my sholder every two seconds in case some VP or broadway star walked in. I went back outside and sat in my car thinking of what to do next, when none other than the Mayor walked in. Mayor Johnson was a very large man, more of a socialite than a politician. I wondered how many roles of fine fabrics would it take to make him a snazzy suit. He was always in the news and the media, allegations of crime and corruption. Nothing that a small time Detective like me from the wrong side of the river should concern about. I watched as the old mans face lighted up like a star on a chritmas tree, pleasantries and hand shaking, when he lead him off to measure for a suit out back. It was then I realised this was a perfect opportunity. I walked right up to the door and that bell, that i had forgotten about, rang out. I quickly ducked for cover behind a cabinet with fabrics laid over. The old man came shuffling out, I could see just over the edge as he looked arond the store, I ducked as he peered my way. I could hear him walking towards where I was hid, I started to think what kind of excuse I could use when just as I was almost in his view, a voice belted out from the back room of the store. "CORONA! I'm meeting my mistress for breakfast in 30 minutes, will you hurry up!" The old man went running outback exclaiming his appologys . I couldn't help but think what kind of woman would sleep with a ballon like him other than his wife, then I realised the storys about the Mayor were probably true. Behind the counter I found a large log book with appointments, orders and sales kept in it, I searched the pages and as I slid my finger down the names column, there he was. Thomas Silva, 1x Deep Blue Sports Jacket. Tommy Silva as he's more affectionately known was a club owner for the mob, back on my side of the river. I had many meetings with him in the past and knew that this made it difficult, he
Untitled Chapters 1-3 post edit • Opuss № I