Shattered

“Excuse me miss,” the inspector asked the young woman at the guest service counter at the old folk’s home. “I was wondering if you could tell me if this woman,” he showed her a picture of the victim’s grandmother,” was currently residing here?”

                The woman leaned over and lifted her glasses up to study the picture. She was too young to be doing that. She’s what? Twenty-five? Thirty?

                “Oh yes!” she exclaimed. “I love her, she is so sweet. Are you…” she paused.

                “Her distant relative,” he quickly lied. “I hadn’t seen my aunty is so long.”

                She smiled sweetly and said, “I’ll take you to Jenny, she is the nurse in charge of her care.”

                “Thank you,” he said as the young nurse lead him down the white hallway into the labyrinth of wheelchair bound patients, doors leading to bed ridden residence, and adjunct hallways running off into various rooms for the staff.

                As the young woman took him along the turns and straightaways of the home, the inspector kept wondering what was going through some of these people’s minds. Did they even have minds? Was this just a place to put people who couldn’t think or do for themselves any longer? Would he end up like this? He would look down on the some of the patients and they all were smiling up at him, but few seemed to still have the spark of life behind their carved out eyes.

                What were they thinking?

                “Right this way,” chimed the young woman as she led him out one of the doors into a large courtyard. There were very few people out on this bright sunny day; and those that were, had their nurses tensely pacing back and forth along the perimeter. They were out in the open. Danger. This wasn’t a controlled environment. They had to get them back in. Safe. Control. Clean.

                They were like wild cats, pacing along the walls waiting to pounce at the first sign of anything. They were like spiders, waiting to pull their prey back into the web. They were like grackles, clustered together, plotting their flight. Animals.

                The young woman lengthened her stride and walked straight up to another woman, who seemed to be slightly older. She sported a short, pixie cut and a whole array of metal pierced into her ears. Hey bright blue eyes were striking when paired with her jet black hair. That couldn’t be real. He ran his eyes around her scalp line, looking for smudges. Had to be fake.

                The inspector waited patiently at the edge of the courtyard, just in the shade. He watched the banter of the two nurses back and forth for a moment. This “Jenny” the young nurse had told me about seemed to be the “Mama bear” of the old woman. If she said to the audience, what should he do? Flash a badge? Arrest her? That would be great for the papers, “Cop arrests nurse to interrogate innocent old woman!” In this business, no one was innocent. Who knows, this old woman could have been in on this kidnapping of her granddaughter with Mr. Brooks.

                Don’t trust anyone. That seemed to be the message of his life. They stressed it in the academy, you learned it real quick in high school, in fact, even his family taught him that lesson a few times. Especially his father. Never trust anyone. People only look out for themselves, screw the rest of the world. That’s what this life seems to be able with some people: they will take and take and take, and when you sit back and have nothing left to give, they run out.

                He squinted his eyes against the sunlight towards Jenny. He didn’t trust her. Maybe it was her fake hair, twenty-something piercings, or the fact that she had to hide her tattooed wrists to come to work every day (which she didn’t hide well); he didn’t like her. It didn’t matter whether or not she “let” him see the old lady, it was going to happen. Jenny was not God. Mr. Brooks was not God. And he would crack this case, even if it killed him.

                The two women approached him from across the lawn, the young woman was all smiles, as usual; however, Jenny was searching the man up and down with her eyes. Her lips were pressed together, making them a straight white line. When they reached him, she leaned on her left him, crossed her arms, and her right eyebrow went sky high.

                The inspector reached out his hand towards her, “Hello, ma’am.”

                She just stared at his hand for a moment before looking back up at him and she said, “This woman has been through hell and back. She doesn’t have any known relatives, except for her granddaughter and her fiancé. Who are you?”

                Her direct approach took the inspector off guard for a moment. Down girl.

                He cleared his throat, “To be honest,” he looked over at the young woman who had helped him get this far. “I’m actually an inspector, I’m looking into the case of the murder of a young woman, whom I believe to be this lady’s (He motioned to the old woman in the wheelchair, several feet off) granddaughter.” The young woman’s eyebrows when up and her mouth dropped. “I’m very sorry, but I didn’t want to cause a commotion,” he said apologetically to her. He looked back up at Jenny, who was squinting at him, still in the same offensive position. She still didn’t trust him.

                “Show me the badge,” she said.

                The inspector shrugged and reached in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it up and showed the women his badge. Jenny looked it up and down meticulously, she probably thought it was a fake.

                “Is that enough? May I go speak with her now?” he asked.

                “No,” Jenny said flatly.

                “And why not?” asked the inspector.

                “That poor old woman in going to die here in the next few weeks, she has no family left, if what you say is true, the news of her granddaughter’s death is going to break her heart. I can’t let you torment her like that,” she looked over her shoulder and smiled at her little patient.

                She really did care about the woman, thought the inspector. He would have to be more gentle with this.

                “I can’t let you destroy what she thinks she has left in life,” she whispered. “It wouldn’t be fair.”

                The inspector cleared the space between Jenny and he within two steps. He placed each hand of her shoulders. She froze and looked up at him, half scared of what may happen to her, half furious that he even think of containing her.

                “I agree,” he said softly. “It’s not fair. But we can’t do anything about that.” He searched her eyes. They were like glaciers in a sea of ice blue water. “It also wouldn’t be fair to not tell her,” he said. “And we can control that.” She squinted up at him. She wasn’t going to buy into this nice guy routine.

                “Now,” he said, time to play the bad cop. “We have two options.”

                “Oh yea?” she asked.

                “Yes,” he replied firmly. “You can either let me go see her right now, and I can get the information I need. I’ll be kind, considerate, and gentle. Or, I can leave now, return tomorrow morning with a warrant and ten other cops, who will all be in uniform, we will search the whole place, arrest you for obstruction of justice, and be forced to take grandma into custody to interrogate her back at HQ. Now, Jenny, which do you think would be a more damaging experience?”

                “You are a monster,” she spat.

                “No,” he said. “I’m trying to catch a monster and no one is going to get in my way.”

                She glared up at him. She hated him, but he didn’t care. After today he will never see her again.

                “Follow me,” she said darkly. “I hope you get a real kick out of this.”

                “Thank you,” he replied.

                The two of them left the young woman standing at the edge of the courtyard with wide eyes. She had agreed to stick around to show him back out of the home. Poor girl. She didn’t know what she was getting herself into.

                Jenny squatted down next to the old woman and placed her hand on her shoulder.

                “Excuse me,” she said.

               “What is it dear,” asked the old woman as she reached her hand, covered in veins and age spots, up to grab Jenny’s.

                “There is a man here wanting to speak with you,” Jenny replied.

                The old woman caressed Jenny’s hand and asked, “What about?”

                Jenny looked back at the inspector, her eyes were full of tears and she had the wrath of God in her eyes, she replied, while looking him in the eyes, “He wants to speak with you about your granddaughter.”

                “Oh!” came the woman’s reply. “Send him right over here!” Her voice of full of joy.

                The inspector’s eyebrows scrunched up together and he could feel his heart thumping in his chest. It felt like it was trying to push sludge through his veins.

                Jenny reached out her other arm, he took it. She was crying now, her face was read and her jaw was set. “I’m so sorry,” he mouthed to her, but she just glared at him and guided his hand to the old woman’s shoulder.

                “Here he is,” Jenny told the old woman, choking up.

                The old woman’s searching hands grabbed onto the inspector’s wrists and guided him around to the front of the chair, where she grabbed his other hand in hers.

                Her face was covered in wrinkles, and her long white hair was free in the wind. She had a smile on her face as she looked just to the left of him, where the sun was shining down on the two of them. However, her eyes were gazing off in a completely different direction. The inspector’s stomach dropped, she was blind.

                “Now Mr. Brooks,” said the old woman. “Tell me how my sweet granddaughter is doing, I haven’t heard from either of you in several months! How did the midterms go last March? Are you prepared for your finals?”