Murder in New Eden
by Charles C. Cole
Welcome to New Eden, an isolated city floating in space, whose founders believed the start of the 20th century was as good as it would ever get. Gun-free police supervise from atop their penny-farthings, carrying only batons. Aggression has been chemically suppressed for years. But then violence erupts. In response, the chief of police weighs the prospect of thawing secret soldiers. In the middle of it all, two bright young women push for equality and recognition.
Chapter 10: A Man of Action
In the morning, Petrillo meets Brandt on his front stoop. Brandt looks like a successful businessman, standing tall in his tailored dark gray suit. In contrast, Petrillo, even in uniform, appears worn out, like he didn’t get much sleep. Brandt notices.
“You’re limping, ” says Brandt bluntly.
“You should see the other guy.”
“Walk with me,” says Brandt, “if you still can manage. Tell me how the training went. How did your fellow officers accept the stranger?”
“He’s tough. Knows his stuff. They respected that.”
“You’re pretty tough.”
“Maybe by our old standards, but not like him. I wouldn’t want to have to take him on, one-on-one for real.”
“Careful: you may have to, one day. He’s not one of us, is he? Sure, he talks the language and looks the part, but inside lurks a cold-hearted murderer. He may be fine today, but something might cause him to snap. And then where would we be?”
“With another Bernie Ketchum?”
“Exactly. But even more dangerous. Next to him, Bernie was a rank amateur. That’s why you’ll have to keep an eye on him. I’ve already told Chief Schiavelli that if this so-called soldier turns out to be beyond our control, then we will put him down like the feral animal he is.”
Petrillo tries to not to show his surprise. Even for him, this is tough talk. “What did the chief say?”
“Something Biblical, as I recall. The chief’s a yapper. I need a man of action. Nobody knows why this guy was put on a shelf. He’s not saying. Maybe he doesn’t know. But I can’t imagine a guy like that surrendering to be put in deep-freeze and leaving the critical protection of his unarmed people to untrained civilians. Can you?”
“No, sir.”
“So learn everything you can from him while he’s still around. And when you know everything he knows, frontwards and backwards, there’s really no point to having both of you around, is there?”
“No, sir.”
“I’m sorry he got the upper hand last night. You look like you took a beating. One for the team. But, keep in mind, in the long run, he’s no competition for one of our own. Trust me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where are you heading from here?”
“The chief’s office.”
“That’s probably a good idea. If you hear of any new discoveries on this case that’s got us all sleeping with one eye open, I want to know about them immediately. Just because we have some temporary reinforcements doesn’t mean we aren’t all still at risk. You might want to check out City Operations. Ops. Maybe Nakamura is seeing different patterns, different clusters of people in unusual areas. I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for, but I think it will jump out at you when you see it.”
“I’m on it.”
“Have a good day, Officer Petrillo. I’ve got to go rendezvous with Director Pelkey for a strategy summit. Walk tall. Remember you’re the—”
“Mayor’s Special Liaison to the Chief of Police. Yes, sir.”
* * *
Shortly after the chief unlocks his office and sends Cody to make coffee in the kitchenette across from Lois’s waiting room, Wayne barges into the office, swinging the door swiftly and securely closed behind her.
“Don’t you ever knock?” Despite his tone, Schiavelli is pleased to see her.
“I keep hoping I’m going to find you sneaking a drink from the liquor bottle in your bottom drawer.”
“You must be confusing me with your other boss, Dr. Valdez. Where is he, anyway?”
“Tending to the wounded, I suppose. Making himself invaluable during our rare time of need.”
“How can I help you this morning, or did you stop by to tell me you’ve solved the case?”
“I was hoping to borrow Sergeant Cody for some tests. He hasn’t had a lot of time to transition to a traditional circadian rhythm. I want to listen to his heart. Give him an eye exam. Check his dopamine levels. The usual.”
“The usual?”
“Unless you two’ve got plans. Yesterday you took him to the park. There’s still the art and history museums, and that lovely little diner on Oak Street.”
Schiavelli does not engage. “Take him. Do what you need to, then bring him back.”
Lois opens the door and steps in. She is stunned, her mouth hanging low, her jaw loose. “Chief—”
“What is it Lois? You okay?”
She doesn’t know how to begin. “Sergeant Cody. He—”
“What’s happened?”
“He’s making coffee.”
“I asked him to. It’s all right.”
“You did? Does he know what he’s doing?”
“How hard can it be?”
“I have my routines in the morning, which I follow every day, religiously, to make sure things get done as they should and nothing gets skipped. When well-meaning people make arbitrary changes—”
The chief hold up his hand. “Just a minute. And, Wayne, try not hurt him; I’ve got another training scheduled for tonight.”
“You do?” asks Lois.
“Sure, I told you. It’s all arranged, right? Same place. Same time. Same people.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
“Thank you, Lois.”
“You’re welcome, Chief.”
“And, Lois, see how that coffee’s coming. Did Sergeant Cody do all right or did he make a big mess?”
“I’ll check on it and get right back to you.”
“Great. You do that.”
“Oh, Sergeant Cody,” Wayne calls out, “you’re needed back in the infirmary wing. If you’ll please follow me, this won’t hurt a bit. Or it might, just a bit.”
* * *
Impatient and vaguely troubled, Brandt stands in the hallway, leaning against the wall outside Pelkey’s closed bedroom door. He notices a vase of fresh flowers on the kitchen counter and, as a diversion more than anything, he snaps a blossom off, tucking it into the top button hole of his dress jacket.
“I’m going to give you until the count of ten, and then I’m coming in,” he says. “This is your last warning.”
“All right, all right,” Pelkey calls out. “Let me put myself together.”
The door opens at last and out steps a harried, much in demand, traveling physician with a black stethoscope looped around his shoulders: Dr. Vittorio Valdez. His thick white hair sticks almost straight up and his gold half-glasses sit low on his red nose.
“Dr. Double-V! The medicine man of the hour! How’s our favorite patient?”
“It was touch and go for a minute there,” says Valdez dryly, “but I think he’ll survive.”
“Good to hear. More importantly, is he well enough to get his ass back to the office? I need help in finding my favorite stapler. I’m not joking.”
“Maybe not quite yet. I’d suggest giving him another day, to be on the safe side.”
“Confidentially, he doesn’t have that thing Bernie had, does he? You’d know, right?”
“No, it’s just stress and fatigue. These sorts of traumas affect different people in different ways, even people who weren’t there to witness it directly.”
“I can hear you two talking about me,” says Pelkey.
“Thank you for taking care of my second in command. I treat him roughly, but I wouldn’t want to face my angry constituents without him. He’s got an almost magical way with words. And he’s also a great foil for the chief; it’s very entertaining.”
“Really? I can’t picture the chief being entertained.”
“The chief? Mr. No-nonsense? No. Me! I’m entertained, at our saintly chief’s expense.”
“I should like to watch that some time.”
“Come by the office. I can arrange it.”
“I should get back to my other patients. They’re stable but not out of the woods yet. They’re very brave, all of them. It’s inspiring. I don’t want them to think we’ve forgotten them.”
“You’ve become a right popular man, doc. The first medical crisis in memory, and you rise to the occasion like the phoenix, reborn from disaster. And you’ve saved quite a few lives in the bargain.”
“I’m happy to be needed. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Valdez grabs his homburg and black medical bag from a nearby table and leaves. Despite his uplifting words, there is a distinct heaviness about him.
“Speaking of no-nonsense.”
Pelkey comes to his bedroom door. He is brushing his hair. He is pale with circles under his eyes. “You wanted me, sir?”
Brandt backs away at the sudden appearance, not wanting to catch whatever’s going around. “Forget it, Toby. Valdez says I’ve got to let you rest, so that’s what you’re going to do.”
“I’m fine.”
“If you start killing people, my career is over. Stay home. In fact, lock yourself in and give me the key.”
“It’s nothing; I’m a little woozy. Probably an ear infection from falling in the pool.”
“Now it’s my fault?”
“Of course not.”
“Do your thing. I’ve got to go visit Ops, anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow, if you’re up to it.”
To be continued...
Copyright © 2018 by Charles C. Cole
