“…But wait a minute,” Ashton had said, as he watched the inspector survey the crime scene of his “first investigation.” Not, he thought, that he was actually the one doing the investigating; he had simply been the first officer on the scene after the emergency call. One of these days, though, he promised himself, he would be.
“What’s the matter, kid?” Imperial Police Inspector Ron Thomas said. “Ain’t used to seein’ dead bodies?”
“No, not used to seeing dead bodies labeled ‘random violent crime’ when they’ve taken a clean double-tap to the head by a professional’s .25 caliber airgun,” Ashton declared, annoyed. “This is just like that murder a year and a half ago, over on the east end. I know, because I did a case study on that at the academy, my last year. VR imagery and all.”
“Did you, now?” Thomas said, walking over to stand in front of Ashton. “So you’re an expert, eh?”
“No, sir, but I know what random crime looks like, and that ain’t it,” Ashton averred, standing up to the other man. “That was a professional hit. Probably done by a guy named Bron–”
“That, kiddo, was a random violent crime, and you’d do well to remember it,” Thomas said, dropping his voice in both tone and volume; the result sounded menacing in the extreme. “Cops what don’t remember it tend to find themselves the victims of random violent crime their own selves. Do I make myself clear?”
“But sir–” Ashton tried again.
“Hey, Stash,” Thomas called to one of his team, “come escort young Ashton out to the street, please. I want him to stand guard and keep any civvies from marching all over our random violent crime scene.”
“You bet, Ron,” Stanley “Stash” Gorecki declared, coming to Ashton and taking him by the shoulder. “C’mon, kid, you heard the inspector.”
Ashton was hustled out of the suite, down the hall to the elevator, and thence down to the street by the big, burly Gorecki. There, the older man took hold of both of Ashton’s shoulders.
“Now you listen here, squirt,” Gorecki said in a low voice, nearly a growl, and just as intimidating. “You’re new, or you wouldn’t be standing here beside me right now. You’re no detective. You’re barely even a cop. Hell, you’re nothing but a punk kid. They say you’re smart, but I ain’t seeing signs of it, ‘cause you still got a few things to learn. One of those is, when an inspector tells you something, you say, ‘Yes, sir,’ and don’t question it. Another is, the situation is what we tell you it is, no more and no less. So don’t go putting something into it that the inspector says ain’t there. Got it?”
Ashton glared at him. Gorecki squared his shoulders…and scowled.
“I said, you got that?”
“Yeah, I got it,” Ashton grumbled.
“Got it, what?”
“Got it, sir.”
“Good. Now you stay here like a good little rookie and make sure nobody comes inside unless me or Inspector Thomas says so.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ashton was stuck on guard duty, without a break for food, water, or hygiene, for the next six hours straight.
“Gorecki?! Oh hell no! Stay away from him!” his friend and roommate, fellow rookie Peter Stone, declared. “Do not do anything to draw his attention!”
“Why?” Ashton wondered.
“When he shows on your doorstep, it’s bad news, Nick,” Stone said. “Haven’t you been paying attention to the grapevine among the rookies?”
“No. You know me and all that rumor crap.”
“Yeah, but sometimes it has things you need to know, Nick. You already realized something was wrong about the detective…”
“No shit.”
“Well, from what I can tell, that sort of thing runs through the whole damn department, at least what’s on Sintar. And Gorecki?”
“Yeah?”
“He’s their enforcer.”
“What?!”
“Yeah. You heard me. I heard some of the older guys talking in the men’s room; they didn’t know I was there, ‘cause I was in a stall, takin’ a dump. So I know this is no rumor: If one of the police officers, or for that matter, almost anybody, civilian or otherwise, goes against Kershaw or Stanier, or any of their cronies on the Council, Gorecki gets sent in. If he and his goons don’t do it personally, he knows who to bring in to, uh, ‘clean things up,’ is the way I heard it.” Stone shrugged. “It’s entirely possible this guy you think really did the murder was one of those clean-up guys.”
“And you’re sure, Pete?” Ashton pressed, shocked. “You’re saying the force is corrupt from the top down! I mean, I went into the force to catch criminals, not help enforce their rule!”
“No joke. It’s why I’m transferring back home at the end of the year, or as soon as I can get it arranged,” Stone noted. “I kinda think it’s gonna take longer than that, but I’ve got the paperwork in; I just have to wait for a slot to come open. At least there, I know they’re honest. I thought working in the capital planet’s headquarters would be a big perk, help me along in my career and be a nice bullet on the curriculum vitae, but this sure ain’t what I thought it was.”
“But are you sure?!”
“I can’t say a hundred percent, Nick,” Stone said, “but think about the story you just told me. The detective basically threatens you with ‘random violent crime,’ then calls Gorecki over to escort you out? That’s showing Gorecki who you are, in case he needs to know, in future.”
“Damn. You’re right.”
“Yeah, pal. Now Gorecki knows exactly who you are. Trust me. You do not want to get his attention again. Believe me, Nick, it’s nothing but bad news if you do.”
Around his work shifts for the next few weeks, Ashton went back and
