Ernest

I haven’t seen the body yet. Just the sirens and the flashing lights of the police cars. Blue, red, blue red, blue red. It always reminds me of the club on 3rd and Main where the women come out draped over strange men’s arms. Stan is probably still in the cruiser on the radio. Time, location, conditions, that sort of thing relayed back to the precinct.

I’ve had a lot of partners throughout the years but Stan, he stuck. I’d say he’s my only friend on the force. He was hired three weeks earlier than me, and that bonds people. Being new. Eventually we became partners which was a relief. He’s a follower. Someone I can trust. One of the only people I’m comfortable around. Maybe it’s because Stan doesn’t expect much from me. If only he was a woman. I’d have my perfect match.

He must be somewhere. Probably scoping out the scene. He likes the busy work, getting down the facts. My job is the coordination, talking to the witnesses, and the other cops. It’s a division of tasks that works well, but I should find him. Get the lay of the land.

This place just keeps shifting, though… blue, red, blue, red. “Can someone turn off those god damn lights?” I holler

“Hello, sir, my name is Officer Milner. Can you tell me your name?”

The kid looking at me barely fills out his uniform.

“Detective Ernest Silver. 4th precinct. What do we have here?”

“Mister Silver, Do you know where you live?”

“I said, Detective Silver, officer. And what kind of question is that?”

This guy must be fresh out of training. “Officer, we have a body here that needs my attention, and I’m a bit turned around so could you point me to where it’s at?” I say trying to get the kid back on track.

“Detective Silver, why don’t you come sit in my car while we get everything figured out.”

I shrug off the hand he sets on my arm, and let him lead me to the road. By now the backup will have arrived and maybe even the forensics unit. Someone who knows what they are doing. I vow to be nice to the kid but we aren’t going to be friends or anything. He’s obstructing the case.

I sit in the back of his car. A moan slips out of my lips. I am too old for this.

“Yeah, we found him.” I hear the kid say into the radio. “Okay, okay, yeah. Got it.” It seems they’ve caught the perpetrator already.

“Alright, Mister, umm… I mean Detective Silver. I’m going to take you home now.”

“You mean to the precinct.” This kid just can’t keep it together. “No need. Stan’s the only guy I trust behind the wheel.”

“Umm…” The kid has got to stop the umm’s. It’s just so unprofessional. “I think Stan has left already. I’ll get you there Mister Silver, don’t worry.”

“So Stan found the pervert already huh? He’s one hell of a cop? I’m kind of proud of that guy. Now this is how real police work should be done. You should be taking notes kid.”

“Yes Mister Silver.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me anymore? This was mighty fast.”

“Yep, I’m sure,” the kid says, “We’ve got things taken care of. So what was your address again Mr. Silver?” he asks.

The numbers are there. Somewhere in the back of my brain. I can almost remember them.

“1723 Walnut St.,” the kid says, trying to help out.

“Yeah, I guess that’s right.”

The city flows by. A blur of lights through neighborhoods that stretch on and on, until the car slows.

“Here we are Mr. Silver.”

A woman stands at the end of the sidewalk to a huge house. A long black coat wrapped around her.

The kid opens the back door. It is suddenly cold. My spine rattles with a shiver. The woman’s face twists into tears.

“Oh Dad!” she says running toward me. “Where have you been? I was so worried about you!” The woman squeezes me into a hug. “You must be so cold.” She wraps the belt of my bathrobe around me and ties it in front as though I’m a child.

“I don’t know,” I say, “I don’t know.”