rob91
06-30-2007, 01:29 PM
It's pretty short, but tell me what you think.
Nobody disputed the facts. At around 12:30 AM on a Sunday morning, a drunken Harold James assaulted Joseph Carney. Carney did his best to avoid the confrontation, but finding no viable escape was forced to fight back. Now, as it turns out, to the misfortune of Harold James, Joseph Carney was a professional boxer--certainly not a prestigious or even known individual, but nevertheless a professional fighter--and was able to handle the attack quite well. James came at him with a right blow, which Carney easily dodged and countered with a quick left jab to the mouth followed by a hard right to the side of the face. Coldly and efficiently, Carney had knocked James out, and his body lay on the street as a sprawled, desperate mess.
This was the basic information collected by investigator Todd Lynch, from several eye witnesses and the big man himself, Joseph Carney. The facts seemed quite clear and not at all in dispute, and Inspector Todd was quite pleased with the work he had accomplished in a short time: finding an open and shut case with minimal paperwork, yet one that may be able to garner him some recognition for it's semi-importance. He might even end up on TV.
But there was still an irk in his side, a nagging that increased as he watched the witnesses milling around, all anxious to leave. His confidence high, he decided to approach him. "Hey, Larry, just one more thing." Larry turned, quite calmly to look at Todd, which made him a bit uneasy. This guy shouldn't be calm, he thought. "Hey, here's my card. In case you remember anything else." Larry looked at him oddly, and Inspector Todd realized it to be a foolish thing to say. This case was clinched already, right?
"Sure. But I think I told you everything."
"Yeah, you know, just in case. You never know. Keep in touch, ok?" Another awkward comment. What the hell was he thinking?
"Yeah....I guess".
3 AM. The witnesses dispersed and Inspector Todd was driving back to the station to finish paperwork. What had just occurred he could barely ruminate on. It was like a dream being replayed over and over, one of those things where he had no control over his mind, images sifting in and out at leisure. The only concrete thing he could quantify was something about that Larry guy had made him uneasy, something he couldn't quite tell, and he had made an *** of himself trying to figure it out.
He remembered interviewing the rest of the witnesses, most of them club patrons or the odd group of street wanderers, and how easy it had been. They delivered grand, exciting recounts, full of jazz and sparkle, no doubt preparing for the stories they would tell their friends. And despite their obvious buzz and juvenile attitudes, Inspector Todd was quite surprised at how clear they were with all the details. "Oh yeah, at first, definitely, he tried to avoid the guy. But he just kept swinging at him. The guy finally hit him with a punch and the other just hit him, real hard. I think he was a boxer or something. But he definitely tried to avoid it, first." As an Inspector, Todd was fairly good at reading people and could tell from the body language of these kids that they were telling the truth. It was all there, in their open gestures and concerned faces that this was an honest story, and that they fully believed the boxer to be in the right. Of course, Inspector Todd had no reason to doubt them as all valid evidence pointed in that direction.
Larry, however, was an interesting case. Alone, he wore a brown, small-fitting shirt, showing off some moderate muscle mass. He didn't look like he had been drinking, and Todd figured he was spending the night alone. He took down his name and asked him what he saw. "Two guys, fighting." His finger scratched his eye, his body only half faced Inspector Todd. He couldn't quite place his attitude - not purposely distant, but maybe a bit coy.
"Did you see who started it?"
Larry offered a small shrug. "I think it was the other guy."
"Which guy?"
"You know, the one who got beat up."
"In your opinion, did you think the other was acting out of self defense?"
"Which one?"
"The one whose not in the hospital." Inspector Todd began to study the details of Larry's face. With the aid of police lights spreading out their blue and red glow, flittering, he saw stubble, slightly cracked lips and thick eyebrows connected in the middle (who the hell, in this day and age, has a unibrow?). His shirt fluttered slowly in the breeze, and Inspector Todd became aware of an emanation, a slight oscillation coming from Larry. Transfixed, he stared, figured and pondered. He didn't know what to think - he had forgotten how to read a person. This passed only a short time, as Inspector Todd became aware of Larry watching him watch him and quickly thanked him for his time.
He walked away, shaken up. Streetlights glimmered and his notepad laid flat in his hand. He hadn't taken any notes, hadn't even written down contact information. He had encountered a hole in his investigation, if you could even call it that - it began to infuriate Inspector Todd, how this odd meeting had hampered an otherwise simplistic piece of work. Small and unimportant, yes, and certainly something he should ignore. But it was the insignificance of the issue that stuck with him, like the picking a scab or rubbing of the eye, where sometimes it's the small inconveniences that need to be solved right away.
Inspector Todd agonized over the issue, but simply began filling out paperwork and never stopped. The case was completed, with no protests from either party, as open and shut as he had anticipated. Todd garnered a bit of publicity from the event and gained a new story to tell his friends and family. But there were times, though they were few, where Inspector Todd awoke in the middle of the night and thought of Larry, wishing for just once to go back to that night and conduct a proper interview.
Nobody disputed the facts. At around 12:30 AM on a Sunday morning, a drunken Harold James assaulted Joseph Carney. Carney did his best to avoid the confrontation, but finding no viable escape was forced to fight back. Now, as it turns out, to the misfortune of Harold James, Joseph Carney was a professional boxer--certainly not a prestigious or even known individual, but nevertheless a professional fighter--and was able to handle the attack quite well. James came at him with a right blow, which Carney easily dodged and countered with a quick left jab to the mouth followed by a hard right to the side of the face. Coldly and efficiently, Carney had knocked James out, and his body lay on the street as a sprawled, desperate mess.
This was the basic information collected by investigator Todd Lynch, from several eye witnesses and the big man himself, Joseph Carney. The facts seemed quite clear and not at all in dispute, and Inspector Todd was quite pleased with the work he had accomplished in a short time: finding an open and shut case with minimal paperwork, yet one that may be able to garner him some recognition for it's semi-importance. He might even end up on TV.
But there was still an irk in his side, a nagging that increased as he watched the witnesses milling around, all anxious to leave. His confidence high, he decided to approach him. "Hey, Larry, just one more thing." Larry turned, quite calmly to look at Todd, which made him a bit uneasy. This guy shouldn't be calm, he thought. "Hey, here's my card. In case you remember anything else." Larry looked at him oddly, and Inspector Todd realized it to be a foolish thing to say. This case was clinched already, right?
"Sure. But I think I told you everything."
"Yeah, you know, just in case. You never know. Keep in touch, ok?" Another awkward comment. What the hell was he thinking?
"Yeah....I guess".
3 AM. The witnesses dispersed and Inspector Todd was driving back to the station to finish paperwork. What had just occurred he could barely ruminate on. It was like a dream being replayed over and over, one of those things where he had no control over his mind, images sifting in and out at leisure. The only concrete thing he could quantify was something about that Larry guy had made him uneasy, something he couldn't quite tell, and he had made an *** of himself trying to figure it out.
He remembered interviewing the rest of the witnesses, most of them club patrons or the odd group of street wanderers, and how easy it had been. They delivered grand, exciting recounts, full of jazz and sparkle, no doubt preparing for the stories they would tell their friends. And despite their obvious buzz and juvenile attitudes, Inspector Todd was quite surprised at how clear they were with all the details. "Oh yeah, at first, definitely, he tried to avoid the guy. But he just kept swinging at him. The guy finally hit him with a punch and the other just hit him, real hard. I think he was a boxer or something. But he definitely tried to avoid it, first." As an Inspector, Todd was fairly good at reading people and could tell from the body language of these kids that they were telling the truth. It was all there, in their open gestures and concerned faces that this was an honest story, and that they fully believed the boxer to be in the right. Of course, Inspector Todd had no reason to doubt them as all valid evidence pointed in that direction.
Larry, however, was an interesting case. Alone, he wore a brown, small-fitting shirt, showing off some moderate muscle mass. He didn't look like he had been drinking, and Todd figured he was spending the night alone. He took down his name and asked him what he saw. "Two guys, fighting." His finger scratched his eye, his body only half faced Inspector Todd. He couldn't quite place his attitude - not purposely distant, but maybe a bit coy.
"Did you see who started it?"
Larry offered a small shrug. "I think it was the other guy."
"Which guy?"
"You know, the one who got beat up."
"In your opinion, did you think the other was acting out of self defense?"
"Which one?"
"The one whose not in the hospital." Inspector Todd began to study the details of Larry's face. With the aid of police lights spreading out their blue and red glow, flittering, he saw stubble, slightly cracked lips and thick eyebrows connected in the middle (who the hell, in this day and age, has a unibrow?). His shirt fluttered slowly in the breeze, and Inspector Todd became aware of an emanation, a slight oscillation coming from Larry. Transfixed, he stared, figured and pondered. He didn't know what to think - he had forgotten how to read a person. This passed only a short time, as Inspector Todd became aware of Larry watching him watch him and quickly thanked him for his time.
He walked away, shaken up. Streetlights glimmered and his notepad laid flat in his hand. He hadn't taken any notes, hadn't even written down contact information. He had encountered a hole in his investigation, if you could even call it that - it began to infuriate Inspector Todd, how this odd meeting had hampered an otherwise simplistic piece of work. Small and unimportant, yes, and certainly something he should ignore. But it was the insignificance of the issue that stuck with him, like the picking a scab or rubbing of the eye, where sometimes it's the small inconveniences that need to be solved right away.
Inspector Todd agonized over the issue, but simply began filling out paperwork and never stopped. The case was completed, with no protests from either party, as open and shut as he had anticipated. Todd garnered a bit of publicity from the event and gained a new story to tell his friends and family. But there were times, though they were few, where Inspector Todd awoke in the middle of the night and thought of Larry, wishing for just once to go back to that night and conduct a proper interview.