Love In Troubled Times

I was sitting in my living room waiting for my friend Randy who called me and said he would like to see me that evening. We became friends in strange circumstances. It was the murder of Randy’s brother, Matthew, that brought us together. It was not the best of times, but I found myself a friend I could lean on.

I still remember that day. It was 3.30 am on July 27, 2003. I was not sleeping, but was extremely groggy. I was thinking of making myself a cup of coffee when my cell phone rang. It was Ms Diamond, the lady at the emergency section dispatch office. A youth had been murdered at the Circle K convenience store and I was asked to reach there immediately. I called a few other officers and got dressed. In five minutes, we were on the spot. The forensic team was already there. We went inside to take a look at the body. There lying in a pool of blood was a young man. I stared at the boy’s face for a long time, completely oblivious of my surroundings. He looked so innocent. He could have killed him? A tear trickled down my cheeks. I hurriedly wiped my eyes and barked orders at my juniors. “I want the forensic report on my table within 12 hours,” I told them.

We found a .380 bullet case at the murder scene. A quick trot down memory lane reminded officer Jake that a local gang used a .380 calibre gun. Photographs of the body were taken and we decided to do a detailed study of the pictures later in the day. The store manager informed us that $ 64 was also missing from the cash counter. Officer Dick could not help but let out a cry of surprise. “Sixty-four dollars don’t get you much in USA. It is not worth killing a person for,” he groaned. Except for a few strands of hair that we collected, we did not find anything else of much use in the store and so, we left. Outside, we saw the victim’s family. I did not have the heart to talk with them. I let my colleagues do the needful.

We got the photographs in office pretty early in the morning and had sat down for a meeting, when my cell phone started ringing. It was Dr Fred Scott. He had the autopsy reports ready. A .380 bullet had hit the victim just below the chin, causing his death, he said. The victim lost his consciousness within two minutes and wasdied in another 15 minutes, the doctor added. I felt a peculiar sensation in my stomach. I did not know the boy, yet I felt a sense of sadness. A shiver ran down my spine. I have worked on several cases in the past, but I never felt like this before. We talked with the victim’s family members, who did not suspect anyone. Residents of Circle K were not too forthcoming when it came to giving information. We were not sure whether they did not know much or whether they were afraid of talking. But we finally concluded that they could not have heard the gun shot as the revolver was fitted with a silencer.

Four months passed since the murder and we were still grappling for a lead. One day, a lady approached me and said she had vital information about the youth’s murder.

She introduced herself as Darold Hines’s girlfriend. She told us that Hines was bragging to her the other day about how he killed a boy at a convenience store and stole his money. We got a search warrant and landed up at Hine’s place the next morning.

After a thorough search of his house we found a .380 calibre revolver, hidden under the counterpane. Hines was arrested.

We took a sample of his hair to see if it matched with the ones we found on the crime scene. His fingerprints were takes as well. A negative report of his polygraph test proved that he was lying when he said he had nothing to do with the murder.

The hair sample and fingerprint impression matched with that on the revolver. The ballistic reports proved that it was his gun from which the bullet was shot. Realising that his back was against the wall, Hines confessed to the crime.

But the district attorney and his team, which had Hine’s cousin in it, were planning to let the convict go. I briefed Randy about the situation. He engaged an investigative reporter to probe into the case.

The district general had to take the matter in his hand. And Hines was finally sentenced to life in Angola State Penitentiary without parole.

Thoughts of the case kept me so occupied that I didn’t even realise that someone was ringing the bell for sometime. I opened the door and there stood my friend Randy, looking extremely uncomfortable. Before I had a chance to say anything, he got down on his knees and took out a rose from his pocket.

“I love you Ms Bakshi. Thanks for doing so much for Matt,” he said. Those words meant more than all the accolades I received after solving the case.