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| Crime Gone Wrong Turnabout - Part 2 | Started by: ApolloJustice on Jun 04, '09 17:55 |
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6:00 AM. God I hate waking up early. If there is one thing I hate most about my job is that you have to be places early. Court is always in session at 9:00 AM, I always have to be somewhere looking for clues at 7:00 AM. The madness of the amount of coffee I have to drink every morning is frightening as it usually contains enough caffeine to kill a horse. But I digress. Today's early morning was brought upon by yesterday's encounter with a young mobster whom has been charged with murder. It is a shame when professional criminals get caught, and a bigger shame when they were charged simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But if his story was true was anyone's guess. It was time to take a look at the crime scene. I finish up my fourth cup of coffee and head out for the office to gather up some of my supplies. 7:45 AM. I arrive at the office, greet the receptionist, and pick up the case files gathered so far. As always the prosecution limits what we get. Too bad, I thought we were in a country where people are innocent till proven guilty. Instead it is a lawyer battle. Doesn't matter if they are innocent or guilty - it is all about the win or the lose. I sign off to my receptionist and go to visit the crime scene. A post office in Las Vegas... God, when did the mafia decide it was a good idea to start robbing a government institution such as the Postal Service? Hard to keep attention off with such a high profile crime. 8:37 AM. I arrive at the scene. There is mail, everywhere, scattered across the ground. It looks like what you'd imagine a post office would look like if mail was carpet. As I stepped behind the police tape I could hear shuffling in the back room. I step back there to find an older man just rummaging through the papers that cover the premises. "Hello?" I interjected in attempt to gain attention. The old man payed little notice to my very existence. He just continued scuttling through the papers. So I tapped him on the shoulder. As my finger hit his shoulder he jumped up high as if he had just seen a ghost. A face of fear and shock malformed his face as he turned around in horror... Then he quickly shifted to a normal face - well, normal for him I would suppose anyways. "What do you think you are doing barging in here and scaring an ol' timer like myself young man?!" As if I didn't say anything. Perhaps he was deaf? Regardless - He seems harmless. Must be the P.O. Clerk. "I am very sorry sir, but I am here regarding the recent events. Apollo Justice - Attorney at law." I say dashingly as I dart a business card into his hand. "Oh great." The man grumbles. "More questions." He makes a seriously displeased face. Something tells me the prosecution may have already stopped by here. "Well, do you mind telling me what you saw?" Please, please give me something to go off of old man. "Sorry young man, I am afraid I was off duty yesterday. Only Janice was here. She is a bit under the weather from all the police questioning, but you may be able to find her at this address." The man grabs a piece of paper off the floor, someone's mail, and writes the address on it before handing it to me. "So there is nothing you can tell me? What the criminals were after?" It seemed odd for criminals to take up robbing Post Offices. Suppose they could be after valuables - but they'd have to have some sort of guy inside to know when good stuff was in. They wouldn't just burst in and take someone's tool set or clothing package. Those kinds of goods were usually hijacked off of trucks in bulk. "Hmmmm.... I'd say information most likely, maybe some petty cash." Typical of most of the people I encounter - they never give much useful information unless I trick it out of them. Sadly at this moment I could see no way to fool this man. I take my leave of him and after looking around a bit I decide to take a trip to that address he gave me. 10:46 AM. Janice Cherkovski's residence. A small house. Quite small compared to those I normally visit, and yet it certainly has a certain warm feel about it. I cannot quite put my finger on what it is I sense here but the energy of the place is astoundingly high for someone who has just came home from the wrong side of a robbery. I approach the door after stepping up to the porch and knock three times. Standing in the now warm wind I look around my surroundings. Just being on the outskirts of the city is completely different from where I live now. The sand blowing by in the occasional strong gusts... I knock on the door again to make sure she is indeed home. After another minute, as I turn to leave I hear the door behind me unlock and swing open. "Yes? Can I help you?" A young woman asks me standing behind her screen door. "Ah, excuse me." I say turning back towards her. "Does a Mrs. Cherkovski live here?" I let out a small droplet of sweat from my forehead praying that old man didn't send me on a wild goose chase. "There are two here. Myself and my mother. Which are you looking for?" She says softly. God what a girl. It is too bad I am on business or I'd be visiting her to get to know her better. I hope her name is Janice. "Janice. Janice Cherkovski." I say profoundly. Head raised high. "Oh, you are here for my mother. I suppose this has to do with the recent events at her job?" Damn. "Indeed. Is she available?" Man, a guy just can't get a break. "She will be in a moment. She's been very stressed. Please come in and have soem tea while you wait." The young girl opens the screen door and motions for me to come inside. Upon entering their neat wood finished house I am greeted with a small dining room. "Please, take a seat." The girl points toward the dining table. I sit down as she comes in with a teapot and pours me some tea. "Please excuse me while I fetch my mother. It may take a few minutes." And with that she heads up some stairs in the room next to the dining room. I should probably just focus on my tea and get my mind off that blazingly beautiful woman. Lord knows I don't need to throw a monkey wrench in this case for the man down stairs... The inside of this house feels very... antique. Strange how most postal offices only hire on the older folks. Or maybe they were hired on young and stayed there a very long time? Who knows... I finish my cup of tea and sit back waiting. Deciding to be preemptive, I pull out my briefcase and take out some note taking supplies. I am going to do my best to be thorough with this information... if I can get anything useful that is. Shortly after the older lady manages her way down the steps and makes her way to the table. Her face looks almost cracked from the streams of tears that must have run across it over the past couple days. Coupled with the wrinkles I have forgot all about the beauty before, living in this ugly world. Sigh. "Who are you? Another Detective?" The woman asks. She must be referring to Gumshoe. That bastard, always makes it to everyone first. Makes my collecting evidence a sheer hassle I tell ya. Guy shrugs too much too. "No ma'am, I am a lawyer for the defense. Apollo Justice." I slide her a business card. "You are a brave one. Defending a guilty man." The old woman's voice crackled. Who is she to pass judgment? "If he were automatically guilty, then I wouldn't be here would I?" Unless they were to give me lots of money... Perhaps I should let him lose for the tube sock incident. No, I need to keep my perfect win streak. "Very well young man. What is it you wish to know?" Finally. Down to business. I get my pen and paper ready. "Well, I suppose I should start off with what did you see happen?" What else would I be seeing you for? "Well... it was just a couple hours before we closed. Probably about 4:30 At night. I was excited to be done with work for the day because I had my soap operas on that night... I wish I had seen them. Gary is divorcing Marge you know. That bitch Emily is pregnant with his baby!" I interrupt her and remind her to stay on topic. "Oh. excuse me. I get worked up about those things. Now... It was sunny out, and some mobsters strolled into the Post Office. Well, I don't know that they were mobsters - but they didn't try to hide their identities and dressed really sharp. And of course they held us up - that is standard mobster routine I suppose. Ever since about a month ago there has been a string of robberies at the Post Offices across the country. You'd think the government would do something about these thugs." I remind her that she is getting off track.... again. "Well, during the hold up when I was emptying my cash drawer another man walked in. He had to have been late to the meeting." She pauses. "Was it the defendant?" I ask curiously. "Well... I believe so. It was hard to tell. He was wearing a mask. He came in and shot one of the men he was with in the back of the head. Then pointed his gun at me. I ducked and screamed. By that point my adrenaline was rushing in so fast I could hardly think." Or maybe you could hardly think because you are senile. "Where there any customers at the time? Any witnesses other than yourself?" I ask, growing impatient with these answers that lead no where. "Come to think of it... there was another man who had entered shortly before the mobsters. A customer I suspect. I was on my way to the front counter when the men had barged in and I had suspected they threw him outside." I shortly interrupt her asking if she knew who it was. "No, I didn't get a good look at his face. At first I thought it was Alfred, but he didn't respond when I asked if it was him. It was around his usual time to pick up his personal mail." Finally, something to go on. "Who is Alfred?" I ask trying to hide excitement. "Oh, I am surprised you don't know. Pretty sure he is the one who gave you my address. He is the other Post Office clerk." She said as something began to click... I have a feeling, but I need more evidence. "Well, Thank you very much for having me Mrs. Cherkovski. It was a pleasure meeting you and your daughter." The pleasure is allllll miiine. I slap myself a bit on the forehead. Work first, work first, WORK FIRST. I step out of their home. I think it is time I go have a talk with the defendant. Time is running short... I spent nearly 2 hours there due to her slow moving and hard hearing. What will I find out from him? I need to find out who the customer was. If anyone would know it'd be him. To be continued... |
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| That was a fantastic read. I hope the third one will be just as good. | |
| Reply by: Mannybivera at Jun 04, '09 20:58 | |
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