Scotty
“Congrats, Heger. Another one bites the dust, right?”
“You bet, Dave,” I said as I leaned back in my chair, grinning. Another solved case. That would be my sixth this month. I was on a roll. People kept telling me to buy some lottery tickets, what with all the luck I’d been having, but luck had nothing to do with it.
I had just solved the case of Liza Kenworth, a 24-year-old grad student who was brutally murdered in her apartment. Throat slashed and wrists cut, it was a pretty gruesome scene, but I barely noticed the gore. Within hours, I had found exactly where the killer had stashed the knife and found DNA that could be sent away for processing. After 48 hours, I had tracked down our perp and had him in cuffs. A personal record, if I do say so myself.
Working as a homicide detective for the Boston Police Department wasn’t an easy job, but I was good at it. When I first started here three years ago, everyone thought I was the hothead kid with no experience, but I soon earned my spot as one of the big dogs on the force. Other detectives just couldn’t figure out how I was able to figure out a killer’s exact moves. “It’s a gift,” I’d say, and that would usually shut them up for a while. I’d laugh to myself about it later. They really thought I’d tell them? Yeah, right.
“Heger, my office. Now.” Police Chief Johnson’s voice snapped me out of my daydream.
“Yes, sir.” I jumped out of my chair and hurried toward his office door. The guys laughed as I walked by, they were sure I was getting in trouble for something. It was always funny to watch the Chief chew someone out, as long as it wasn’t you.
“Shut the door.” I did and then I sat down in one of the extremely uncomfortable chairs placed in front of his desk.
“What’s this about, Chief?” Did I do anything wrong? I don’t think I did, but who knows?
“You’re not in trouble, if that’s what you’re wondering.” I breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’ve got another case for you.”
“Really boss? I just closed one this morning.” I didn’t like whining, but I was hoping to call in sick tomorrow to just have a “me” day.
“Well then you’re not busy.” I really hated this man sometimes. “Listen, this case… it’s pretty bad. We’ve tried to keep the press out of it as much as possible, and we think we’ve done a good job, but we can’t keep a lid on this forever.”
“What’s the case?” He had piqued my curiosity.
“It happened a couple hours ago. A 21-year-old, David Cramer was found dead in his apartment.” I was pretty confused. This didn’t seem like some “out-there” case.
“And?”
“Well…” Chief Johnson was obviously nervous. “His head’s missing.”
I blinked. Decapitation? I hadn’t seen that one in years.
“Okay, well, I’ll go by the scene and check it out, hopefully I can find something.” I got up to go.
“Scott, wait. There was something else at the scene. A note,” Chief swallowed loudly.
“A note? What did it say?”
Without saying anything, Chief Johnson pushed a piece of paper across the desk. I picked it up and looked at it. As I read it, I felt my stomach leap into my throat.
Heger, you’re not done.
I gulped and looked up. Johnson was studying me with a trained eye, looking for any sign of weakness. I pushed the note away, making sure to keep eye contact.
“What do think this means, Scott?” I could feel the judgment dripping from his words.
“How should I know?” I was trying really hard to keep my voice even. “Some psycho trying to test the best cop in Boston? My name has been in the papers a lot lately, I’m sure someone saw it and decided to try to set me on edge. Personally don’t think we should read that much into it.” Okay, I was rambling now; I hoped Chief didn’t see right through me. If someone was trying to set me on edge, it was definitely working.
“Shouldn’t read into it? Really?” I pray that I’m looking convincing right now. If his gut was telling him to be suspicious, he must have decided not to act on it because he just nodded his head and turned way.
“You’re probably right. Well, get to it.”
“Yes sir.” I turned and almost ran out of that office, I had to keep it together until I got somewhere private. I ran to the stairs and rushed up three flights until I got to the door that led to the roof. This is where I came to think when the urges got too strong. Now I came here so I could hyperventilate in peace.
“What have you got yourself into, Scott?” I said to myself as I paced back and forth. “You were a fool to think that they would just let you walk away.”
“You’re right, Scotty. You were.” The voice made me jump about a foot into the air. I turned quickly, my hand reflexively going to my gun holster, only to realize that my gun was still in my desk drawer.
“Who’s there?” In the dim light of street lamps, all I could make out was a dark shape.
“Don’t you recognize me, Scotty? I’m the one you sold out to Garcia’s men.” I backed up to the edge of the roof, as far away as I could get.
“No. That’s not possible.”
“Why not, Scotty? Did you think I was dead?” The dark figure laughed.
“Please, don’t do this. I’m sorry. I had no choice.” I dropped to my knees and clasped my hands together in front of me. “I’m begging you, don’t.”
“Oh, Scotty, you always were a coward. Can’t even face me like a man. “The figure stepped closer, raised his right arm, and suddenly, everything went black.
***
I had a pounding headache. I opened my eyes, but couldn’t see anything. A few moments later, I realized I had a burlap sack over my head.
“Where am I?”
“Our old safe house. I guess it’s not really ‘safe’ anymore. Your police buddies raided it once you told everything.” The voice was dripping with contempt. Realization dawned on me, I knew that voice. I didn’t believe it before, but now I knew it was true.
“Matthews? Ben Matthews? How’s that possible?” I was genuinely curious... somewhat. I mostly wanted to keep him talking until I could figure out a way to get my hands untied.
“You sold me out, Scotty. You got caught by the cops, and you blamed me for the Ericsson murder, even though you were the one that took out that hit. Remember that?”
“Vaguely.” I couldn’t help smiling, the ropes on my hands were loosening and I was glad that Matthews couldn’t see my face through the bag.
“Yeah, and after that, your record was wiped clean and I was tossed in prison for 5 years. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t very happy with you, my friend,” Matthews said, I could hear him moving around the room. I think he was pacing.
“Is that what happened? That’s not how I remember it.” I couldn't help being a smart-aleck, it was in my nature.
“That’s why you’re so good at catching murderers, huh? Takes one to know one? I must say, Scotty –”
“Don’t call me Scotty,” I spit through my teeth, I always hated that name.
Matthews ignored me.
“–I never imagined you as a cop. You’re a trained killer, Scotty. A paid assassin. Performing a public service doesn’t suit you.”
“I turned over a new leaf.”
“Yeah right, Scotty. You enjoy the glory of it. Attention junkie, like always. Couldn’t make it in politics so you became a crime fighter? Is that it?” Matthews was just egging me on now.
“Matthews, stop. If you’re gonna kill me, kill me. I realize now that the kid’s murder was just a ploy. Very clever. Now, can you get this over with?” I was tired of Matthews’ sick game. My hands were almost free and soon, I’d be able to take this guy.
“I don’t want to kill you. Not yet, anyway. I wanted it to make this slow and painful, but the boss man wanted this clean and quick. I wasn’t the only one you screwed over. He’s not happy either.”
My hands were free. I reached up and ripped the sack off my head. I reached for Ben Matthew’s arms and twisted them behind his back. Split second later, I snapped him left arm, and then his right. One solid punch to the nose and he dropped to his knees.
“I’m out of the game, Ben. I’ve been working really hard not to kill anymore, even though I’ve wanted to.” I walked over to the table and picked up the .22 that was sitting there. “You’re too old for this, buddy. It’s time you got out too.” I got ready to fire.
“You’re gonna regret this, Scotty.”
“Stop calling me that.” I pulled the trigger. Instead of firing, the fixed gun exploded backwards. I felt my skin burn and seconds later, my heart stopped beating. It was all a trap. My death was ruled a suicide by the FBI officer that investigated my case, Special Agent Ben Matthews.