The Perp Who Gave a Crap. A detective and an ex-hooker work together. Adult. (standard:mystery, 7725 words)
Author: Oscar A Rat	Added: Jun 22 2020	Views/Reads: 1468/1067	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Detective Jablonski investigates a series of burglaries in which the perp always takes a crap on a kitchen table. He’s forced to partner with a woman he’s arrested several times for hooking. She always beat the charge, then joined the police force.

“So, you see, that's why you shouldn't trust witnesses to a crime,"
Detective Sergeant John Jablonski told the Law Enforcement Class at 
Smith City Community College. "Our Mr. Jacobs spent almost twenty years 
in jail for multiple rapes because of their testimony, only to be 
acquitted when DNA testing came into vogue. Even with the best 
intentions, using eyewitnesses is not absolute proof." 

Whooo, Jablonski thought, going to the back of the podium to resume his
seat until the end of the class period. 

"I hate this shit," he muttered to a gray-haired old lady seated next to
him. 

"You hate it? This class graduates next week, and I've got to start all
over with another bunch'a fuckin' idiots." The old woman patted John on 
the leg, too close to his crotch to suit him. 

Brushing her bony hand off, he studied the faces of the students to see
how they had taken his little speech. What the hell! He saw a familiar 
face in the sixth row. I'd swear that's Dawn Delight, the hooker, he 
thought, astonished. Na. It couldn't be? But then, she had never really 
been convicted. It was a minor thorn in his side, since he had arrested 
her twice -- only to see her get off on technicalities. 

*** 

"Two more this morning, John," Detective Eddy Johnson informed him when
he reported to work. "Actually, two for you and another two for me." 
Each of the detectives had an average of six cases to work at any one 
time. It wasn't as bad as it sounded, since out of that number about 
half were stalled by various means. Meaning almost anything from 
waiting for suspects or witnesses to be found, or come in; lawyer 
holdups; FBI or lab reports pending or a myriad of other reasons. 

There had been a particularly offensive series of relatively minor
break-ins lately, all at the homes of young single women. The 
perpetrator would go in at night only while the victims were home, 
cleverly avoiding contact. At first he or they would quietly steal 
valuables, a quick in and out job. Lately, apparently gaining 
confidence he/they were taking more time and chances of discovery. More 
on the order of expensive pranks than professionalism. 

They were often doing things like fixing and eating a meal or spreading
the contents of drawers around the house while the occupant slept. In 
one case even laying a pet goldfish on a slice of bread with mustard, 
leaving it to die. He/they wanted the victim to see she had been 
robbed. The one consistent detail, not reported in the news, was a pile 
of human feces left on the kitchen table. 

If the cases followed a natural progression, he/they would eventually
turn to assault, rape, or worse. It seemed to be a thrill-type crime 
which normally escalated in intensity as the perpetrator grew ever more 
jaded. Not much was ever stolen, only small expensive articles or 
contents of purses. Jablonski's job was to find the perpetrator before 
it progressed to the rape or murder stage. 

"Anything from the shitty guys?" Jablonski took the newly proffered
paperwork and plopped down at his desk. The desktop was clean except 
for some sort of sticky stain -- probably from the Coke machine in the 
corridor. The lieutenant, predictably known as "Louie" although his 
name was "Harry," insisted on a clean desk when you left the room. 

The reason was that one particular perp had found the names of witnesses
to a buddy's crime, written on a note lying on a jumbled desktop. The 
guy had told his friend and the precinct had all hell to pay. "Top 
clean and drawers locked" was the rule after that episode. 

"Shit," Jablonski said, seeing a distinctive Stickit note on one corner
of his desk. The lieutenant must buy them by the hundreds, all yellow, 
Jablonski thought. It instructed him to go in and see his boss when he 
arrived. 

Not knowing whether he would be back to the desk or not, the detective
sergeant only took time to open one padlocked drawer, put the new case 
files in and lock the drawer again, putting the key back in his pocket. 


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