Major Crimes

This sector was one of the most uncontrollable crime areas, where rival gangs fought continuously for dominance, committed wrongs on unparalleled levels were a daily occurrence, each wrong trying to outwrong the last in a show of overcompensation bordering on sadism, and loose morals being rampant. All attempts to circumvent the criminal element and bring the troublemakers under control had failed, and the authorities wrote it off as a lost cause, only good for picking up stragglers when the time came for filling out quotas.

Now, all of a sudden, the crime rate’s gone down, along with the murder rate. The first thought was that they were doing a better job of hiding their misdeeds, but that wouldn’t account for the lack of bragging. An Investigator would be sent to survey the area, and see what the cause was. Normally, this would be a two-man operation, but that was only reserved for ganging up on a suspected individual to intimidate. And since this was deemed a low-risk operation, it was up to me to figure things out.

Walking the streets was extremely peaceful. It was hard to believe this was the same place as before, considered the unenviable winner of the top worst places to live, a reputation that had gone unchallenged 12 years running. How could such a violate area become calm in such a short amount of time? The walkways were cleaner, rude behavior was downplayed, even the air smelled sweeter. Despite appearances, the populace appeared uneasy, giving off an air of apprehension, doing the bare minimum of daily routines, avoiding mingling with their close neighbors, dodging all attempts of small talk. Interviewing the residents yielded no results, and the people seemed reluctant to gossip about the sudden change, giving only evasive answers.

“Can’t complain.”
“Things are better now.”
“Why ruin a good thing?”
“Things’ve never been more safer.”
“It’s dangerous to be wandering around.”

The populace were normally tight-lipped, keeping the peace by getting along with mere nicies, being more interested in keeping up appearances than resolving underlying problems, but this unspoken silence was on a different level entirely. They seemed scared of some ineffable element that couldn’t be easily identified.

The only person who seemed unfazed by the whole sudden atmospheric change was a solitary individual casually patrolling the area. I recognized the figure - a Two-bit Hood who was never anything more than a low-key huckster. Now, he was responsible for overlooking the well-being of this shady section of town? I approached him with the intent of giving a casual welcome opening line.

“Weren’t you the prime suspect for committing a large amount of reprehensible crimes you were utterly unrepentant for?”

“Yes, and I’ve turned over a new leaf. Anybody who tries anything wrong will have to answer to me.”

“...I don’t believe you. You’re working up some angle.”

“Is it really so hard to believe I’m capable of change?”

“Yes it is! People don’t change their personalities that fast!”

The Two-bit Hood’s arm was dangling from his jacket at an awkward angle, no doubt from injecting the latest illicit substance, yet, he didn’t seemed hopped up on Bliss. There was none of that expected dilated eyes or slurred speech. If it weren’t for that diseased arm, he’d look healthier than usual.

“What are you doing here anyways?”

“There’s been a woeful lack of crime taking place. It’s getting to be a problem. I may have to move.”

“Isn’t that what you want, less criminal activity?”

“If there’s no crime, then there’ll be less reason for cops to be around, which’ll be the perfect opportunity for the criminal element to pop back once our guard’s down!”

“So you’re saying you’d be out of a job.”

I wasn’t concerned. My position was secure, but there would be a whole squadron who’d be affected, just standing by doing nothing.

In addition to the area’s unexplained status change, there was another statistical anomaly. The murder rate had gone from the thousands every day to the single digits range. The victims started out from big names, then winding down to utter nobodies who were presumed to be next in the line of succession. It wasn’t just the number of deaths that was unusual, but the method of death as well. Each body had an unusual open wound from random body parts that no amount of experimentation with creative weaponry could recreate. The injury came from within the body with no external outside force to show where it came from. The only common factor was that the exit wound came from bone marrow, as if their shattered bones exploded upon spontaneous internal impact. Whatever device was used would help in getting some answers.

“If you’re keeping track of the neighborhood, you should be more vigilant. There’s been a rash of inexplicable murders taking place. Do you know anything about that?”

“Those were sadly necessary.”

I stopped taking notes and looked up. “You openly admit to playing a part in those?”

“I’d be amazed if you could possibly link me to those deaths. These hands are clean.”

“If you’ve been an unwilling accomplice or witness to these violent deaths, you need to make a statement.”

“I have nothing to say.”

I paused. “Are you being threatened?”

“If anyone did, they wouldn’t for very long.”

“Is someone else doing these murders for you?”

“Nobody would be capable of doing what I do.”

I ran these contradictory statements in my head. “You say you’re responsible for these unorthodox murders, yet you’ve played no active part, let alone delegated those activities to someone else. How does that work??”

“If you don’t believe me, just show me an injustice taking place, and I’ll show you how it’s done.”

I considered the Two-bit Hood’s proposal. It was outside my purview to solicit advice from someone with shaky reputation, but the current conditions were anything but usual. He seemed eager to give an example, and seeing this pissant peon in action would give some clue to what was going on.

“There’s a Jaywalker over there.”

“Cliched, but I’ll take it. You!! Stop!”

Upon hearing this, the Jaywalker turned to face us, and suddenly went off into a sprint. That was quite the overreaction. It hardly even counted as a crime, since there wasn’t even any traffic on the street.

The Two-bit Hood started to chase, and I joined pursuit. If this apprehensive Jaywalker was going to such lengths to escape apprehension, there must’ve been a more nefarious hidden crime behind it. Especially since the Jaywalker was upping the difficulty by dumping stacks of strewn garbage upon the abnormally pristine streets.

“Looks like we can add stealing to the pile as well. Indulging in destruction of private property? Now you’re just littering!”

After wading through the piles of increasing debris, I finally managed to catch up to the Two-bit Hood after losing track of the Jaywalker at an intersection, out of breath.

“I... never took you... for being... much of a runner.”

“I’m still too slow. This bipedal form is too limiting.”

I didn’t pay much attention to these words, paying more attention to the current surroundings, trying to suss out where the Jaywalker might’ve gone. There were many hiding places that would be out of view from an overhead vantage point. I asked the nearest passerby if they’d seen anything.

“Have you seen - ”

“I’m not causing any trouble!” was the only response I got. All the others remained silent.

“What do you do in this kind of situation?”

“There’s always somebody else who’s equally guilty.”

“Still seems a shame to let go after working so hard.”

“All isn’t lost. I can still smell the traces of sin.”

That was certainly impressive compared to my meager tracking skills. The heat signature was still active, and I thought that would’ve been the main tracking method used, faint traces still visible despite the sudden drop in body temperature.

“The Jaywalker’s probably hiding in a densely packed cold environment. You know of any?”

“...I think I have a good idea where the perpetrator is.”

The Two-bit Hood led the way, taking unorthodox shortcuts through the impenetrable veritable maze of the region, sidestepping dead ends, backward passages through backalleys and narrow loose cracks in the fences where all kinds of life trafficked through. We made brief stops at several promising crowded establishments, our entrances temporarily pausing the rabble mid-sentence before moving on.

“Not here.”
“Not this place.”
“Not this either.”

The Two-bit Hood had certainly garnered a commendable reputation for his presence to garner such a response, commanding respect from his presence where they only showed indifference in mine. Our searching journey ended when we stepped inside an otherwise unremarkable restaurant.

“This is the place.”

The back of the restaurant overlooked a precipice also known as the Lookout Terrence, because people admiring the view would cry, “Lookout!” when garbage was strewn downhill.  We made our way through the likely front for an organization, ignoring the stares from impatient customers in line waiting to be served and staff who dared not get in our way as we marched towards the freezer.

“You’re not supposed to be back here - oh, it’s you.”

“Who used this last? Know that lying is punishable.”

All the waiters, chefs, sous-chefs and dishwashers left in silence, leaving the kitchen empty. Apparently there was no penalty for remaining silent.

“How do you hold so much dominion over these once rowdy people?”

“I have my ways. Help me with this.”

“First off, I can’t condone murder, even as an example of making an example.”

“I’m not going to kill the Jaywalker. You have my word.”

I assisted the Two-bit Hood in opening the freezer door with his one good arm. A rush of cool air wafted out, hitting us as we braved the elements in search for the criminal element. There were burst fumes of dry ice emanating everywhere, making pinpointing the source of expelled controlled breathing difficult. There was no danger of being confined inside. Even unlocked, the door was heavy and wouldn’t close suddenly. I stayed near the entrance not out of self-preservation, but to guard the way in case the Jaywalker happened to get past.

The kitchen light was the only source to illuminate the dimly lit meat locker where icy slabs of meat hung from dangling chains wafting to and fro. I had to admit, this was a very convincing facsimile for a shell company. One could almost think that these were actual bodies hanging from these -

I didn’t get a chance to finish my thoughts when one of the slabs suddenly pushed against me with more force than simple thermodynamic force would suggest possible. No amount of dormant swinging could possibly knock me on my back, and the half-frozen form of the Jaywalker huddled between the packed slabs proved me right.

I barely had time to alert the deliberately compromised location when the Jaywalker made a mad rush for the exit, stopping briefly to test the rusty hinges of the freezer door before resuming the chase.  But this time, we were closer, these were narrow quarters and there were fewer obstacles to throw in our path.

The front was overloaded with people, leaving only leaving through the backway as the only viable option, and that’s where the Jaywalker would’ve gone if I hadn’t taken precautionary measures to barricade the doors leading out there, but I’d failed to secure the windows.  My mistake was presuming the Jaywalker wouldn’t be foolish enough to venture down a near vertical path slanting downwards. This guy really didn’t want to get caught.

During the resumed eventful chase, the Jaywalker jumped down the stone stairs three steps at a time and made a misstep, tumbling downwards in a somersaulting manner, hitting the stairway at the wrong angles until finally reaching bottom breaking a leg upon impact, the bone showing through the skin, and even then, continued limping away.

The Two-bit Hood came across the scene and calmly walked down the flight of stairs, catching up to the wounded target making rapid single steps in a fruitless attempt to get away. As soon as he got close, the Jaywalker brandished a carving knife taken from the kitchen and started slashing wildly.

The Two-bit Hood dodged the glancing blow, laying his hands on the elusive fugitive, and then... something burst out of his diseased arm, splattering blood all over the place, and then integrated itself within the Jaywalker’s body, being absorbed through the mouth, eyes, ears, nose and skin pores until the slime faded away, and the Jaywalker executed spasms of rapid motor functions, then stiffly turned to the onlookers looking horrified.

“There. Anybody ELSE wanna commit crimes around me? ...anybody? ...c’mon, this body’s getting old and worn out.”  The Two-bit Hood’s body lay comatose.

“What have you done?!”

“He was coming right after me! I had no choice.”

I leaned in to look at the Two-bit Hood’s wound where his infected arm once was. “He was killed the same way as the others. Talk about poetic justice.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Unfortunately, I’m going to have to take you in.”

“For what?”

“Disturbing the peace, unenforced littering, dumping suspected contraband, defacing public property, trespassing, contaminating meat storage, vandalism, attempted assault with a deadly weapon, wasting valuable chasing time, exposure to second-hand murder and jaywalking.”

“Does... does that mean I’m going to be locked up with lots of bad people?”

“If you had just kept jaywalking, you would’ve gotten off lightly.”

Shortly after that, the crime rate for the sector went back to normally high levels, necessitating the need for police presence there. On the other hand, there’s been a rash of inexplicable deaths in the jail, all with the same mysterious exit wound, starting with the Jaywalker, who never should’ve been there in the first place.

Well, it’s not my problem anymore.