Chapter VIII, The Veil

It's kinda funny to think that I also follow Dan's path. My journey being an officer is full of drama. I don't know why as soon as I became an officer, Dan retired and choose to buy a diner. He ended up becoming the chef-owner of the diner. As long as he's happy, I'm happy for him.

"Sir?" My junior in the police department shocks me.

I look outside and realized I have arrived in another precinct. I need to do some checking about documents to this precinct. Most of the documents are about bad guys we have been arrested for. We need to check whether they are sent from this precinct or not.

I get off from my friend's patrol car. He then drove to his station. The wind blows onto me and makes my eyes watery. As I touch my right eye, I see a woman sitting on the stairs in front of me. The cold stairs which made of stone that people keep stepped on. She facing down hugging her legs. She is a brunette with medium hair length. 

I walk past her to get into the police station but I see no reaction at all to me or whoever walks past her. I see a file sitting next to her in a brown, big, envelope. 

"Who's that?" I asked one of the officers inside as I point to her.

He looks outside and sighs. He then shook his head as if he's pitying her. She might not in her right mind then. 

"She's one of that group who obsessed with a case. She demands we open the case again. I heard that her parents just passed away."

I look back at her as I walk forward to the room. The meeting, the discussion nor the presentation intrigue me. I'm still curious about the person outside. I look at the white clock that hanging silently in the room. It's 5 sharp.

"That's a wrap. Thank you."

As soon as I heard that, I rushed outside. I see her still in the same position as she is three hours ago, not even a slight change as far as u can remember. I can't help to go to the vending machine so I can get her some food and water. Suddenly one of my colleagues taps my shoulder. 

"If you want to talk to her, please make her stop looking into that case. It's a dead-end case." He said that and left me there.

I walk toward the woman and sit next to her. The stairs feel so cold especially at this time in this weather. I put two pieces of bread and a bottle of water in between us. 

"You should eat or drink something."

I look straight to the tree in front of me. I feel kind of cool doing that but I hear no reply. I let go of my coolness and glance at her. She still resting her head in his hugged legs but now facing me. 

She looks so young. She might be in her early twenties. I thought she might be in her thirties or something. She looks like a mess up close. Her tangled hair has perhaps been fighting with winds quite some times but her white shirt look has not been washed for a while. Her brown shorts have some stain on them, I don't even want to know what is it. Despite that, her face is quite pretty. I think she is Asian-Caucasian mixed. 

As she takes the chocolate bread and opens the plastic seal, she looks at me up and down. I kinda feel awkward. 

"Are you from here?" She gestured her head to point to the police station.

"Naah, I came from the Metro." 

I glance at her files. Curious about what case she so into. As I look up, she gazes into my eyes. With the orangey light from the dusk, her hazel eyes look very beautiful.

"I heard about you inside. May I see the files?" I talk softly to her.

She just nods and back to her food but still focuses, staring at my action. As soon as read the title, my body shivers. It's about the Duncan family. It seems the name of it pretty familiar but I can't remember where I heard it.

"Why would you interested in a case like this?" I ask her curiously.

"I am a student at Cesare Beccaria  University, majoring in psychology... Criminology in some way but focusing on psychology. I want to research this case to be used as my thesis."

I can see her gesture and tone change. She looks professional and determined. She then tucks her hair behind her ear. This is the first time I see her face clearly. Her lashes are long and her eyebrows pretty thick but neat. Despite her messy style, she smells good like fresh wildflowers in the morning.

"Why don't you change it? Don't you see their reaction inside?" I glance into the police station. 

"No. It has to be this one."

She staring at my eyes while putting her hand above mine. God. It's scary to think about what women can do.  

"Would you help me? You are from the Metro, right? You must have a lot of resources to open this case, please?"

Ah... So this is how she wants to play it. She wants to seduce me so I will help her to open this case. I'm kinda curious about where this is ending too and since I don't have much to do lately maybe I could help her. I do feel sympathetic towards her because my mother's case also went cold.

"I'll see what I can do BUT I think we should find at least suspects first before I could tell them to open this case thoroughly."

My gut feelings tell me I shouldn't handle this one, I don't know why. I look at her and see her face falls. I knew it. She doesn't have any suspects yet.

"I only found this." 

She gives me pictures of someone's hands. A palm from close range and full hand from quite far from the CCTV camera. I feel like I've seen it before.

"It's not enough. I think it would be best if we meet tomorrow to go to the crime sce--."

"But based on these pictures I know how old he was. He was not older than 20 years old at the moment." Her face lights up as she speaks.

"It's not enough! They won't open it just because of that."

She looks shocked. I just don't want to give her any hope. I've been in her place before. I even insist to be an officer to dig my mother's case. Hope is the last thing she needs in this circumstance.

"Okay then... Let's talk tomorrow. Just come to my coffee shop when you're free, officer...?"

She hands me a card. It's a coffee shop logo named Gracie. I see her name below the coffee shop's name. Emma Carlson. 

"Renderson. Argo Renderson." I shake her hand as I said my name. 

After we part, I don't have anything to do. I don't even know people in this precinct. After seeing a sign, I know where I should go, bar. I check in to a cheap motel five blocks away from the station to change my clothes and store my briefcase. The bar is not that far from the motel. One drink leads to another drink to another to another. I don't know why I need to drink that hard but my body keeps signaling to drink more each time. I feel numb at some point. All I see is the moon hanging in the sky with a lot of clouds and rain that falling to my face then everything turns dark.

*ring* *ring*

I move my hand looking for my cell phone. It's 8 am. 

"Hello?" 

"Don't hello me. Where are you? Are you okay? A case is up, check the news." I heard the voice of  Johnson, my colleague.

"I don't feel good. I'll skip today."

I hang the phone up and staring at the ceiling. The fan keeps spinning and spinning. I almost throw up. I sit on the bed holding my head. I just realized that I don't recognize the bedcover. I ain't in my apartment, I don't wear anything but my brief. Maybe I went here after a few drinks yesterday but since I'm already up, I better get ready to cure my hangover. I turn the TV on as I walk to the bathroom.

My clothes were scattered everywhere. I pick them up one by one. When I reach the belt, the shape is kind of odd. 

"... The victim was a prostitute... Last night." 

Hearing those words on TV makes me sober. I run to the bedroom and watch the news. A photo of a woman, a hooker showed. She was killed last night. The cause of death was a double hit by a rock near her. That wasn't right. I remember I strangled her last night with my belt. What was that? No, no. 

I slap my face to snap out of it. Everything just comes back slowly. I did kill her. I killed that prostitute. She keeps bugging me to bring her to a hotel. I don't want to fuck. She sways my body back and forth until I throw up. I still remember how hard the concrete hit my head. The water from the rain also hurting my face. I'm so pissed because after I fell and she tried to reach my pocket, I try to stand up and my hand landed on a rock. A bit bigger than my grip. Seeing her face trying to taking money from my wallet pissed me off real bad so I bashed her head with the rock. I hate her, she looks like that woman who insists on researching that case. I hit her head once more and pull my belt and wrapped it in her neck. She doesn't fight. After I pick everything, the rain gets worse. I went to the motel wet and somehow the rain washed it all. God. I did all of that but forget? What's wrong with me? How can I forget all of these? I never felt this overwhelmed.

I throw punches to my head. Once, twice until  I something glimpse in my memory. It was too fast. I know I need to clear my head and meet the only person I trust, Dan. I don't know how will he react, especially because he already quit the force for a while. I pick everything and run to get a cab to Dan's place.

As the cabs go, I keep having this memory but gone in a second. It's like a house, a nice one. I don't think the hooker brought me to a house like that last night. I hope this means nothing.

*knock* *knock*

Within a minute Dan opens the door with a smile.

"Well well well, what do we have here? My big son finally visiting this old man, huh?" He pats my head.

"Dad, I... I think I did something terrible."

He gestured me to come in. He prepared teas. I smell something good from the kitchen. He might cook something again. He does love cooking and taste good too. That's why his Diner always full of people, especially on weekends.

"So what happened?"

He sits back on the sofa. Ready to hear all of my problems. I told him everything about Emma Carlson's case, the prostitute, how my belt also bent, the news, everything. He just nodding along. 

" That's it." I cut short my stories.

"Maybe you just dreaming. You have a lot of cases may be some get into you." He sounds so calm as he slurps the tea.

"No, it's not. This memory also keeps coming back about a big house."

Dan's face changes. I never see his facial expression this scary before. He put back his tea to the table.

"So meeting the woman finally makes you remember about the Duncan family, huh?"

I gulp. Hard. It's the family in that woman's case, Emma Carlson. What is it to do with all of this?

"Before you talk, let me ask you. Do feel any joy when you dream about killing the prostitute?"

"No! Dad! Are you crazy?! Of course not." 

He nods. 

"I'll tell you everything but promise me don't let that woman know about any of this."

That promise feels so hard to fulfill. I know I shouldn't agree to it. Yet, out of curiosity, I said yes. That has become one of my biggest regrets in my life.