Sense of Control

25. april 2012 at 17:08 | Thalia Contostavlos
......I've never done this, so it's some kind of experiment, but I just felt like this story needed a change. Sooo this story is written from Inspector Cramer's POV. I hope you enjoy :)Warnings: mentioning of violence, very slight bromance … don't like, don't read
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story


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………It was cold. I was sitting on a wooden bench in New York's Central Park, clutching my suit jacket tightly to my frame, but I still couldn't bring myself to leave and go somewhere warmer. The cold made me feel numb and that's exactly what I wanted. The last case I was working on made me want to retch and I desperately needed to forget all about it or at least blur the sharply outlined details. It was a domestic. Man killed his wife and their thirteen-year-old daughter.
………He called in himself, about three am. Said his wife and daughter were dead. When the officers got to the address, the guy was outside, completely drunk. He said he killed his family, so they went inside to have a look …
………I tried to will the shaking away, not very successfully, and closed my eyes. I gave up on clearing my head of the horrible images hours ago, so I just sat there, focusing on the cold breeze caressing my face.
………I remained like that for at least ten minutes before I sensed a presence beside me. I didn't even have to look, to know who it was. Goodwin. Always there when one didn't need him.
………"Go away," I rasped, still without opening my eyes.
………He said nothing for a whole minute - long enough for me to almost forget he was there - so it startled me when he cleared his throat. I finally looked at him and he grumbled: "Not a cat's chance in hell, Cramer."
………I rolled my eyes, but said nothing, ignoring him. I really didn't need his snide remarks and witty comments. They're hard enough to deal with even under normal circumstances, let alone today.
………But he didn't give up. He never does. "Want to talk about it?"
………"No."
………He was silent, looking ahead of him and waiting for god-knows-what. I was thankful at first, but the silence kept growing louder and louder until I couldn't bear it anymore. I sighed. "Fine, what do you want to hear?"
………My question was yet again met with silence.
………If this was his way to make me talk, it was definitely working. The silence was very uncomfortable, so I would do anything to break it. "It's a case."
………He nodded. "I know, a wife and a daughter."
………"Yes. A respectable man, hard-working, caring, religious. And what does he do? He shots his wife, who was in bed asleep, twice in the head. Guess she never woke up. But the little girl did. She-" my voice broke despite me trying to prevent it. I cleared my throat. "She'd woken up from the noise or something and met him in the hall. And that bastard just shot … Archie, he emptied his clip, reloaded the gun and kept firing. On a thirteen-year-old girl. His own daughter."
………Goodwin drew a deep breath and looked at me sympathetically.
………I sighed. I could see he wasn't anywhere near satisfied, so I continued: "He picked her up, carried her back to her bedroom and tucked her in. Would you believe it?"
………Goodwin still looked doubtful. "You've seen it before, Cramer."
………"I know. But that's not …" I had a hard time looking for words, so I made a frustrated gesture with my hand. "Anyway, he went and wrote a suicide note. Then he went to buy a bottle of his favorite whiskey to an all-night liquor store, drank it and chickened out on the suicide. He went to call us instead. That's really all there is to it. Purley and I stayed until the coroner brought the bodies out, then we took the guy's statement. He still smelled of the alcohol."
………Archie didn't look at me when he said: "It happens all the time - abusive relationships, cheating wives, problems with children. The usual."
………I shook my head. "That's not it. Everyone said it was a dream relationship. Never any fights. The neighbors even argued with us, said we've made a mistake. That he loved his daughter, coached her softball team, led her to believe in God and morality."
………He looked puzzled. "Then what happened?"
………"The bastards business failed. Two years ago he made a haste decision and started some sort of a consulting firm. It was risky, but he promised his wife and daughter that no matter what, he'll take care of them."
………"It didn't work out the way he'd imagined it, I presume."
………"No. He kept losing money. He put everything they had into it, but never told his wife. Eventually he thought they'd lose the house, but he just couldn't bring himself to tell them."
………"So he killed them? That's crazy."
………I shrugged. I couldn't deny that. "But I think I figured it out. Sort of. See, the guy was one of these golden boys, you know? Never had anything in his life go wrong, good college, good career, everything went right for him all his life. Until this. Life kicked him in the teeth and he cracked."
………Archie shook his head violently. "But that's usually reason to kill yourself, not your family."
………I sighed and leaned against his side to use some of his body heat. "You said it yourself, crazy. He killed them because of some twisted sense of responsibility."
………He put an arm around my shoulders. It was a very queer position - in both senses of the word - but it was comfortable, so I didn't pull away. Instead I explained: "He talked about them like they were his property. Much loved and pampered property, but still property. His to take care of. And if he couldn't do it properly, than it was his responsibility to see they didn't suffer."
………"That's sick," Archie remarked and I couldn't agree more.
………We stayed like that for a few more minutes, before Archie sighed and moved to stand up. I looked up at him.
………"Come on, I'll buy you a drink," said he and offered his hand to help me up. Then he grinned. "What would you like? Whiskey?"
………"Go to hell, Goodwin."

-> Tell me what you think about the change of POV. And would you mind terribly if I was to write something more bromantic?
 


Comments

1 El | Web | 26. may 2012 at 23:37 | React

Dalo mi to práci přelouskat, ale stálo to za to. Moc se ti to povedlo, nejen po stránce literární, ale i po stránce jazykové :)

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