All of which has led the one driving here, a block or so away from the restaurant. He is looking for an indication from the other one, something that would telegraph his intentions. He wonders if he is about to be blackmailed. He wonders how it would work, if he’d pay. Maybe the one in the passenger seat would demand sexual favors. There is no way of knowing. He likes to think that he could kill the one in the passenger seat instead, if it comes down to it.
The radio news is on and they are about to do the sports and weather. He turns the volume up so he can hear the scores. He cannot account for what has happened in his life, how he’s gotten to this point. He remembers playing football with his father once. His father had a rocket for a throwing arm, which surprised him. He didn’t think his father would be much of an athlete. He was almost always gone, the father, only showing up once in a while, maybe every five years or so, when he needed money. And now he is married and about to eat lunch at a bad restaurant, hoping to dodge food poisoning, this new assignment, and the forthcoming blackmail.
This morning, he told his wife he wasn’t sure about having children yet. He told her he didn’t think he was ready, that he wasn’t sure about the prospect, how he would fare. He said they didn’t have enough saved, that he needed his sleep, that he didn’t have much of an arm. He said they were young, that they had plenty of time. His wife didn’t respond to any of this. Instead, she went downstairs, into the bathroom, maybe to fix something, otherwise to kill herself.
The weather this day goes unnoticed. Neither of the good people looks up at the sky or catches that a light rain has started.
The one driving turns into the restaurant’s empty parking lot and parks the car close to the entrance. The one in the passenger seat unfastens his safety belt and makes a sound with his mouth. The sound probably means something, but the one driving doesn’t hear it. The one driving is busy turning off the ignition and says, This is where you’re wrong, man.
Getting out of the car, he says, This is where you’re dead wrong.
SOMEONE’S COAT IS IN THE MIDDLE of the floor, which indicates the owner is probably dead by now. We think it’s a woman’s coat, as it is small and formfitting, or rather, it looks small and formfitting. We haven’t picked the coat up off the floor and we aren’t planning to, either. The coat is evidence and shouldn’t be disturbed. We aren’t sure why the coat shouldn’t be disturbed, but this is what we’ve been told. It probably has to do with the investigation and future criminal prosecution. We don’t want anyone to get off on a technicality, that much we do know. We also know the coat’s owner is probably dead by now, this much seems certain, though everything else remains a question. We think it’s a woman’s coat due to the size and style, but it could easily be a man’s coat. We’ve all seen men dressed in small formfitting coats, so it is not unusual, and because of this we are not assuming it’s a woman that has been killed for her coat, because it could easily be a man, particularly the kind of man who would wear this kind of small formfitting coat. This is not to say that a man who wears this kind of small formfitting coat deserved what happened to him or had it coming. This man didn’t have it coming any more than the rest of us do. But it stands to reason that the kind of man who might wear this kind of small formfitting coat would be targeted for such and an easy mark. Case in point, there are no indications of a struggle. Everything seems exactly as it should be and there are no blood-stains or splatters, nothing is broken. We have had a thorough look around and have been careful so as not to disturb anything. For instance, no one has picked the coat up off the floor and tried it on for size to determine just how small and formfitting this coat is. We aren’t doing this so as not to hinder the investigation. We’ve been told that we must never tamper with evidence. We keep this in mind whenever we happen upon a crime scene, which is about four or five times a week now. So what’s important isn’t the coat or who owned it, if it was a man or a woman or what. It’s not even important that we apprehend whoever it was that perpetrated this particular crime or bring this criminal to justice. Now we must remember the victim. This was a human person who lived in the world like the rest of us. Someone who ate food and drank water and breathed air and showered daily, maintained personal relationships, exercised regularly, voted in most elections, both local and national. We cannot lose sight of this part of it, the human cost, the loss of life. We remind each other of this as often as possible. We say we have to do better next time, and while we are resolute and determined, it seems we are always too late and for this we are sorry.
