Defeated Again

The bright morning sun blares through the large picture window of the bland, earth-toned, moss-carpeted space. There's a whiteboard in the corner with small, metal desks in the center, four on either side. Papers and Styrofoam cups are strewn about. The detectives are busily carrying out their assigned tasks hoping to solve their heartbreaking case.

The captain runs his fingers through his hair as he steps out of his office. He clears his throat and says, "I just got an ass-chewing from the mayor. He wants to know where we're at in our investigation and why we haven't called the FBI in on this yet. So, what can you tell me about this perp?"

Mike glances up from his desk. "Mr. Hensley served two consecutive terms in office. Rumors were circling the city at the end of his last year about being involved in illegal activities. The DA investigated but didn't have enough to convict."

"What sort of stuff are we talking about here, Mike?"

"Sexual harassment, bribery, fraud. He often assisted single mothers out of financial debt out of his own pocket, which made the DA suspicious, but the woman claimed it was a loan, and they paid him back. They even have receipts to prove it."

Jack scratches the growth on his face. "So, he could've conjured up this child porn ring while he was still in office and the victim's mothers covered for him."

"It looks like it, sir."

"I think we're talking about more than just kiddie porn, captain." Randi pulls a file up on the laptop and then turns it around. This web page was in his browser history. The contact number traces back to the burner we found in the shed." I also found dozens of images of children in an encrypted file on his hard drive. The same images that can be downloaded from the website."

Scott hands the captain a forensic report. "The lab says all the calls made to the cell came from burner phones. They've either been turned off or destroyed. They said they'll do what they can to narrow down where the calls originated from. They also claim Mr. Hensley never used his phone to make a call, and according to the GPS, the cell never left the house."

Jack glances at the laptop again. "He couldn't have been running an operation this big alone. Randi, I want you to dig into Mr. Hensley's past. Mike, you, and Scott talk to everyone who served office with him. Talk to the prosecutor and the detectives working the case see what he can tell you about the investigation. Have you been able to identify the kids, Scott?"

"Not yet, sir. Immigration doesn't have any record of these children entering the states. The ME said they've never had any dental or any other type of medical work done. She said she'd try to identify them through their DNA but didn't sound hopeful. She also said she found a dollar sign tattooed on the back of the victim's neck, which confirms Randi's suspicion about it being a trafficking ring."

Randi looks up from the computer screen. "I'm running their photos through the FBI's national data bank, hoping we'll get a hit, but with them being illegal, I doubt we will."

Mike hangs up his phone. "Patrol responded to a domestic disturbance call and found a naked man tied to a chair with pictures of under-aged children scattered around him."

Jack scratches his stubble again. "It sounds like we have a vigilante who's exposing these scumbags for who they really are."

***

The heavy rain clouds, once scattered across the dark, starless skies, slowly drift across the full moon, which allows it to brighten the empty sodden streets. A cool, crisp wind gushes angrily across the desolate city, making the temperature feel much colder than what it is.

Exhilarated from his latest catch, Carl pulls up to the loading dock at the back of the makeshift hospital and honks his horn. After ten agonizing years, I finally got my man. Carl smiles proudly. Excitement courses through him, he hits the horn again.

The doctor removes his navy-blue latex gloves when he waddles through the rusty door. His short gray hair is thinning on top. Deep wrinkles cover a great portion of his pale, chubby face. His rounded middle and short stubby arms reminded Carl of the toy he had when he was a kid.

Carl notices fresh blood covering the entire length of his apron when he gets closer. I'm glad to see he's hard at work. Bubbling with excitement, Carl jumps out of his truck. "I did it, doc, I did it. I finally got my man."

Exhaustion quickly spreads across the physician's face. "I wish you would've held off until I finish with the first two."

Carl's eyebrows raise, his forehead creases. He cocks his head to the side. "I thought you'd be happy that I brought you a new man."

The doctor shakes his head. "Not if he's in the same shape your last one was in."

Carl scratches the stubble on his face. He pictures the victim in his mind. He seemed like a good specimen. "What's wrong with him, Doc?"

"The boy was fine, but the dad..." The man throws his hands in the air. "What isn't wrong? He has cirrhosis of the liver, cardiomegaly, renal failure, and COPD."

"Layman's terms, please." Carl huffs.

The doctor rolls his eyes. "I forgot I'm talking to someone whose IQ is equivalent to a second-grader."

Carl stomps his foot. He thrusts his hands against his hips. "I ranked one of the top five at my academy, Mr. smart ass." Intelligence is a touchy subject for Carl. He was told by several teachers his low mentality rate will make it hard for him to hold down anything but an entry-level job. He works twice to hard to prove them wrong, graduating with a 3.5 average. Despite his success, their heart-wrenching words continue to replay in his mind.

"That doesn't say much for your classmates, now does it?" The doctor chuckles.

I can understand why your wife left your sorry ass. Carl sneers.

"Simply put, all of his organs are shot."

"Is anything salvageable?"

"He's not a junked out car, Carl." The doctor laughs.

"You know what I mean."

"It's not likely, but I'll make do with what I can."

"You shouldn't run into any trouble with this guy."

The doctor rolls his eyes and says. "Go ahead and show me what you've got."

Carl's excitement surges through him as the truck cover slowly slides back. Marcus is going to be shocked when he sees who it is. He pictures the look on his enemy's face and smiles.

After what feels like forever, a face appears. Carl's jaw drops. He stares at his prisoner in disbelief. "You're not Marcus."

"No shit, Sherlock. I'm Manny, Marcus' brother."