The Davik Kane Files/Rookie Blues

Part 1

By the time I got to ‘Grad & Madd’s’ there was a crowd of people surrounding the scene. From what I had been briefed on, a body had been found along with two people claiming the other person was the perpetrator of this crime. I walked through the flood of people until I saw what everyone had been staring at. A large pool of blood, broken glass, a pair of gloves and a knife were all that remained. “Detective Kane,” I heard someone shout from behind me. I turned around and saw Begoon, my new partner. The boy was fresh meat and very “by-the-book”. Two aspects that always aggravate me. It always seemed the force wanted to pair me with the youngest recruit they could find. “Detective Kane, you should be wearing your gloves,” he said as he walked up to me. This was going to be a long day.

“Do I look like a rookie, boy,” I said, furious with this little punk. “I’ve been doing this job since before you were born, and I’ve learned more from those years than you have from you stupid books.” The crowd of rubberneckers looked at me and my partner as I continued barraging him with insults about his inexperience, “I’ve had half a dozen partners like you, and guess what, they always leave the force. Do you know why? Because it was too ‘stressful’ on them.” My face was now red, I could tell I pushed too hard when the rookie stormed off. I didn’t feel too bad though, things like this make a man stronger.

So I returned to the scene and looked over the evidence. Both the knife and a shard of glass had fallen in the pool of blood, which made my job harder. For no one yet knew the murder weapon, and I liked to work fast. Before the results came back, I wanted, no, I needed to know who did this heinous crime. Why? Because that’s my job, and I also have a bet with Larro down in petty crimes. If I can solve this in record time, I get three skits.

“Who do you think did it?” A uniformed officer asked in reference to the two possible perpetrators.

“I’m not sure,” I replied. I had no clue about these two men and therefore could not make any assumption.

“Well, the first guy is the head chef to Madd’s, while the other was renovating the seating areas.”

“So that explains why the two would be next to a knife and glass. Who was the victim?” I asked, mulling over the evidence so far.

“He was the restaurant owner, Mikal Kimal, age 45,” the officer said. I couldn’t believe it, a man my age croaked. It was rare in the city to see a man in his middle age die, either you died young or old. Not now, not here, not like this

“So either he got into an argument with the chef and the chef stabbed him, or he got into an argument with the designer and the designer stabbed him. Two similar things, two different outcomes,” I said to the officer

“Yeah, least we know it was one of them.”

“Do we?” I was pretty sure it was one of them, but detective work is never a sure thing. In all my years an easy case has never been that easy.

“You want me to start looking for other suspects?”

“No, I want you to start looking for my partner. He should be around here somewhere. And when you do find him, bring him to me. We have a body to examine.”

&mdash; &mdash; &mdash;

The drive to the morgue was a quiet one, thank Vellan. Begoon didn’t bother trying to apologize or ask for one in return, it wasn’t like I cared. We’re professionals, so soon we will act like nothing happened.

“You know what,” he said, as we were nearing the morgue. Oh no, not this again. “You can be a real ass sometimes.”

“Begoon,” I tried to continue.

“It’s Detective Begoon! Not just Begoon, I worked hard for that title, now give me the respect of saying it when you’re talking to me!” Wow, he was furious.

“Kid,” I sounded more professional than this rookie had ever heard me. “My first partner told me probably the wisest thing I’ve ever heard. Respect is earned, you don’t waltz into a place and expect people to bow down to you. You fight, you don’t run and after time, you truly deserve the name, Detective Begoon. A man can tack on a badge and call you detective, but until those around you see who you are and what you offer, you will just be a freshly plucked officer of the law.”

Begoon huffed. He shut his mouth and we finished our trip in peace. We got out of the Rover in unison. I straightened my suit, and he copied. Ugh, this guys was going to drive me nuts. We were soon met by a man in a long plastic suit. He was caked in dried blood and had a grim expression on his face.

“Hello, I’m Detective Davik Kane,” I said, avoiding his handshake. I had always introduced myself to him, even though I’d been doing this dull task for many, many years.

“And I’m Detective Ekoroi Begoon,” he said shaking the man’s bloody hand. Ew.

“What can you tell me about the body?” I asked the old examiner. In all the years I’d been at the force the, this guy had been a veteran. I’ve never been sure of his age even upon our first meeting.

“Well, I’m still not sure how the man died. I mean, I’m positive that it is a stab wound, but I still can’t tell what it was.” Well that explained the grim expression. This was just my luck, we still had no clue who did it and it seemed I would be out of my three skits.

“When do you think you can tell us the murder weapon?” I was hoping for the phrase, ‘by the end of the day’.

“By tomorrow morning, at the earliest. I’m swamped right now.” Damn.

“Well, I guess we’ll come by tomorrow morning,” I said putting on a fake smile. Fat chance I would be coming back. I wanted this solved by the time the sun came down and I knew I was skilled enough to do it. I then sauntered off, entered my police-issued Rover and turned the key, starting the engine. I almost drove off, but was stopped by the rapping upon my car door. “Let me in,” I faintly heard Begoon say. Damn, I could of drove back to the station in peace. Believe me, I contemplated just driving off. But I knew I couldn’t. My boss breathed flames last time she caught wind I was mistreating my partner. Which ended up in a temporary transfer to petty crimes. Though, I can’t complain, if it weren’t for that, I would have never met that cheating bastard, Larro.

I ended up opening the door and letting my partner in. He didn’t say ‘thank you’ or anything. It seems like my boy is growing up. “So where are we headed?” he eventually asked as we drove over the freshly paved roads.

“Well I’m gonna stop and get something to eat,” I said as my stomach growled louder than the most fearsome animal. “Then we’re stopping off at the station to question to see which bastard did it.”

“Ah, I see.”

Part 2

Many years ago, we received word from a Republic ship that the Imperials had been defeated. That was really the first time I realized how we were unlike many places. We had no care for any of it. For the most part, the Imperials left us alone. Other than that one attack a long time ago, they had not set foot on the planet. Now I don’t know why I think of this while pounding down a bowl of Cristoph’s fried noodles. Usually my thoughts were filled with questions about our strange cuisine or why we always seemed to name our meals or restaurants after former leaders or titles, but this time my thoughts were about everything around us.

No one ever leaves the planet, well the occasional Kaiser will visit a nearby planet, but other than that, no one. “So you ready to head to the station?” Begoon asked as I slurped up the final noodle.

“You know, maybe I want my food to settle before I make any big decisions,” I said belching. The taste of my spicy fried noodles returned, mmm.

“Yes, partner.” His sound of defeat had made me uncomfortable.

“Eh, I guess I’m ready,” I said standing up and heading out. Begoon was right on my tail, I’m guessing he was nervous I’d leave him this time. Which is good, he should always be on his toes. We then got into the vehicle and drove off, destination station. We drove in silence, the faint purr of the engine being the only sound. It was great.

When we eventually walked into the station, we were met with an empty office. “Where is everyone?” I asked, particularly to myself.

“I don’t know,” Begoon said. Of course he didn’t, but I was too caught up in the mystery of the empty office to scold him.

After a minute of staring in silence, someone eventually walked into the main office from a door in the back. It was my boss, Monel Wisecrack. Well actually it’s Monel Wisenholm, but Wisecrack is close enough. “There you are!” she yelled and then said something into her communicator. “I’ve been looking all over for you,” she said practically sprinting towards me.

“I was at the morgue, and then we got something to eat,” I said innocently. If there was one man or woman who had the ability, and the desire to take my badge, this was the lady. There had been a sort of rivalry between us for a while, ever since our father’s were partners we’ve bickered. Let’s just say our father’s didn’t have the happy career together. Long story short, they hated each other. So now Monel bided her time, waiting for me to make a mistake so great to get me fired, but I wasn’t going to let the happen.

“You ate after a visit to the morgue? You’re sick, you know that?”

“It’s not like we went inside,” I shot back.

“Eating outside doesn’t make it any better,” she replied. “I meant the morgue, the examiner said to return tomorrow,” I hoped that explained it loud and clear.

“Oh, why didn’t you just say so,” she replied, it wasn’t a question, more of a statement. I know she was doing this on purpose.

“So why did you send the force after us,” I said, actually referring to my partner.

“Ah yes, I almost forgot. We had to let the two men go.”

“What?” I yelled, furious.

“They both lawyered up, we had to let them go,” she tried explaining some long, drawn out law, but I just toned her out.

“But we still need to ask them questions,” I said. If I wanted my money, I would need to close this case up fast.

“Well go find them and ask them your questions. Just try not to make them call their lawyer.”

“Trust me, they won’t,” I told her as I swiftly turned around and headed off.

“I’m going to act like I never heard that,” she yelled out. At least she knew I was the best damn man for the job. Begoon and I headed out of the office and got to our car. I turned on my communicator and not long after received a message from the boss. “The chef is back at the restaurant,” she told me, so we decided to go there.

By the time we got to Madd’s, the restaurants exterior was cleared of blood. Many years ago, a murder that took place outside, especially outside of Grad and Madd’s, would have been witnessed by everyone. Now the near failing restaurant was a barren wasteland that people only went to when they wanted a cheap meal and alcohol. When we walked into the restruant, we saw no one. It seemed as if our suspect had fled. Then we heard something.

Over the clutter of pots and pans were heard constant swearing, words that I won’t utter flung out the chef’s mouth. It seemed we didn’t have to worry too much about chasing after a suspect, after all. “Excuse me, sir,” I said as I walked into the cooking area.

“What can I get you guys” the chef said as a handful of ash fell off his cigarette and into the pan. He continued cooking.

“We just ate, actually,” I said, flashing my badge.

“Talk to my lawyers,” was all he said before returning to his work.

“But sir,” Begoon said.

“Get out!” the chef said, the cigarette fell out of his open mouth and into the pan. We didn’t stay to see if he threw out the spoiled batch. My guess was that he didn’t.

“I guess we’re off to see the other guy,” I said as we entered the car. We drove around town for many minutes, then I realized we had no clue where this designer currently was. “Hey boss, where is our other suspect?” I asked over the communicator.

“How am I supposed to know,” crackled through seconds later.

“I don’t know, you gave us the coordinates to the last guy,” I shot back.

“Well that was easy, he’s a chef at a restaurant he is part owner of. This other guy is–at his design studio.” She then fed me the coordinates. We drove to the place, the building around us zoomed by as we sped. Faster and faster we went, I had a feeling in my gut. A feeling that we found our killer.

We skidded to a halt as we approached the building. It was a tall bright blue building. In large letters read, “Stross designs”. The worst part was underneath the sign was a large poster of two heavily muscled men painting a house. It made zero sense, the only men I’ve ever seen paint were fat and usually a relative of mine.

We exited the Rover and stepped inside the building. It was that moment that I realized something was amiss. All the lights were on, but no one was home. “Help!” I heard a man cry out. We chased after the voice and eventually kicked down a door to a large room, most-likely a meeting room, and what I saw was shocking. A large brute of a man stood over this tiny fellow who was presumably the murderer. The boulder was holding a large knife, that appeared small in his hand, and I was pretty sure he was about to stab it into the runt.

“Freeze!” I yelled as loud as I could. As you probably guessed neither of them froze. Quite the opposite, actually. The large man charged toward me while the slender man jumped out the window. I weighed my options, I’m not much of a runner or a fighter, so either choice was going to be a challenge. “Begoon, be gone!” I yelled, motioning toward the window. Man, I had been wanting to say that one all day.

Begoon nodded, and jumped out the window after the suspect. This left me and Mr. Attempted Murder all alone. I was pretty sure only one of us would walk out of here, I just hoped it was me. The brute lunge at me, knife in hand. I dodged his strikes and tried to pull out my service blaster. I got a few punches in and was eventually able to pull my gun out. “Freeze!” I yelled once more. He gave me the same answer as before.

Charging at me, I did the only thing I could possibly do. I shot him in the leg, left one to be exact. He kept charging though, so I shot him in the other leg. He collapsed immediately, clutching both of his limbs. I knew I was needed elsewhere, so I jumped out the window after my partner and the suspect. I followed the maze of cluttered buildings and alleyways until I found my partner, Begoon, standing over our suspect. I was so proud a tear nearly came to my eye.

Part 3

“Why’d you run?” I asked the suspect.

“Why did I run? Did you see the freak in there?” He said spitting and sputtering.

“So? We had everything handled just the two of us, but you ran, forcing us to split up. So again, Why did you run?” I tried to look as menacing as I had in my youth. It was harder than is sounded.

“Okay man, there are people coming to kill me,” he said in the most innocent tone he could muster.

“Why are they coming to kill you?” I asked, my ferocity leaving me almost completely. I now just wanted to know what was going on. For the first time I actually saw the man, his thinning hair, his gaunt, pale face and his greatly thinned figure.

The man hesitated, he was scared, I knew it. “Please, tell us, sir. It’s the only way we can help you,” Begoon said, his voice had a reassuring essence to it.

“Okay, you see, I killed Mikal, my employer.”

“Frik,” I said under my breath. I was beginning to like the guy, I mean he was a creep and I knew he was a murderer, but still.

“So why are people coming to kill you,” Begoon continued the questioning.

“Because, I know too much.”

“Too much?” I asked. See what I mean, an easy case is never just easy.

“Mrs. Kimal was the one who hired me, well not exactly hired. She threatened to kill me if I didn’t kill her husband.”

“Why would she hire you?” Begoon and I asked in unison.

“Because,” the man said, he looked offended. “I was the perfect choice. No one there knew me, I was like a ghost.”

“Well that didn’t work out too well, I mean, we found you didn’t we?” I liked the guy, but I liked gloating more.

“Yes, but I’m glad you did. Prison is definitely better than death.”

“We’ll see how you feel in a couple of months, Mr...” I don’t think I ever got his name.

“Mr. Mocfo,” he replied as we cuffed him. We had to wait a few minutes before uniforms came to pick him up. We could have put him in our car, but I had a bad experience with a suspect once. I’d rather not talk about it.

Once Begoon and I were alone, we decided to head out and find this Mrs. Kimal. “Hey boss, where is the Kimal residence?” I asked over our communicator.

“Why are you wondering? Officers Eugene and Moyan called in and said you arrested the suspect.”

“Well, we just want to tie up any loose ends,” I didn’t want to tell her the truth because I knew if nothing was there, I’d be in big trouble. She would have tried to stop me, most likely by taking my badge. The sun was falling beneath the nearby building, and now darkness hugged us as we walked out of the car and up the steps to the Kimal mansion. How they could afford such a building, I’ll never know.

Knocking on the door, we waited. It opened quickly and we were met by none other than our large brute friend. The look on his face probably mirrored mine, a look of shock. Though this was a good thing, we could call for back up and bring these people to justice. I would have reached for my communicator, but I was swiftly punched in the chest, the shot directly hitting my communicator which was located in my breast pocket.

I fell backwards and watched as Begoon kicked the man in the thigh, where I had earlier shot him. The man cried out in pain. My partner took advantage on this temporary window and landed a quick mini-paradiddle on the man’s face. Not soon after, the man fell to the ground, it appeared he wouldn’t be getting up for a while.

“Let’s go,” Begoon said storming into the residence. I got up and followed. We stormed into the large building, there was a second floor many meters above. On the staircase leading up to the second floor we saw her. Mrs. Begoon stood there, clad in a red dress. She looked as if she were prepared for a dance. Her make-up and ravishing light brown hair just added to her elegance. “Hello, boys,” she said walking down the steps. She walked slowly and kept her eyes on us. “What can I do for you?” she asked when she met us on the ground floor.

“Well, Mrs. Kimal,” I said, approaching her until I realized my only cuffs were still on the murderer. It looked like Begoon would have to handle this one, I would just handle reading her her rights. “Ma’am, you have the right to a lawyer, if you cannot afford one then you will be forced to defend yourself. Do you understand?” I asked her, it seemed that over the years the majority of the rights had been whittled down to just one. Pretty soon we’ll just cuff ‘em and sentence them right then and there, or at least that’s what I think.

“Oh, don’t be silly, what can you arrest me for? Defending myself?” She was referring to the attack on her bodyguard.

“Yeah, but try explaining why your body guard was found trying to murder someone,” Begoon said. His voice was stern, that of a real detective.

“How should I know what my guards do on their spare time?” she asked, her lips pouting. She was good, real good.

“What about your husband’s murderer saying you were the one that hired him,” I said as Begoon began to put his cuff on her.

“I’d like to see you prove it,” was all she said before we led her to our car, which pained me, and drove off. We arrived at the station in good time and brought the woman in.

“Whose this?” Chief asked when she laid her eyes on the beautifully dressed woman. In my younger years, I would have said something like, ‘my date’, or something stupid like that. But no, I was classier.

“My date,” I eventually said. What? I couldn’t help it.

“No really, wiseass?”

“Sorry boss,” I hastily said, “she’s Mrs. Kimal, the wife of Mikal.”

“And why is she in cuffs?” She asked, maybe I should have told her about what the killer had said, but then again, I had no communicator during the drive back to the station.

“She is suspected of hiring Mr...what’s his name to kill her husband,” I said. The woman was squirming in my grip but I wouldn’t let go. Though, the smell of her perfume was making me nauseous

“Take her to an interrogation room,” Monel said. We then led her into Interrogation Room One, sat her down and began our questioning. We asked her the standard, boring questions, to which she gave us standard, boring replies. But then I got to my favorite questions, “Have you been having an affair on your husband?”

“What? No,” her face turned red as she raised her voice. I could tell she was lying.

“What was his name?”

“Why does it matter, my husband’s dead.” I’m not sure she realized she just admitted to an affair.

“Fine, why did you want your husband dead?” I knew the question was pushing the boundaries but the sooner I got her to admit it, the sooner I’d get my money.

“I loved my husband, we may of had issues, but I loved him nonetheless.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” I almost had her. It began looking like she was going to crack, sweat started

“I–I want a lawyer.”

Damn, I must have pushed too hard. An hour later, a lawyer walked in and we could finally continue questioning. “So, back to our previous question. Why did you hire a man to kill your husband?”

“You don’t have to answer that,” the lanky, balding lawyer said, putting a scrawny hand on the beautiful woman’s shoulder. I hate lawyers.

I didn’t know what to do, we needed something concrete. We needed something hard for her to explain, but what? Well she would’ve needed to have somehow contacted the killer and if it was over a communicator, we could get the records. Begoon and I walked after the room to “think”. “We need to talk to the killer,” I told Monel.

“He has a name you know,” she told me. I had forgotten it, even I wasn’t a fan of knowing people I sent to prison’s name. It helped keep the hate mail I received less personal.

“Whatever,” I said as she escorted me to the killer.

“Hello again,” I said, waking him up from his bunk. I don’t know how he could do anything in such a cell, it was small and dark. The only light came from outside the cell, and even that was dim. It was just enough light to annoy you into not sleeping, but not enough to read or write.

“Hey,” he said rubbing his eyes.

“We need your help with something,” I told him, immediately his eyes lit up.

“I’d be willing to make a deal,” he said. This is another thing I hated. People would commit a crime and then walk free because they “helped”. Well I wouldn’t need his help if he hadn’t screwed up in the first place.

“I can’t do that, kid,” I said. His wild eyes returned.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you, officers,” his reply made my blood boil.

“Don’t you want to send the bitch who hired you to prison?” Begoon asked.

“Why? I’ll be right by her side anyway,” he said crossing his arms and looking down at the bottom bunk.

“Fine,” I said turning to Begoon and nodding. “We can get the communicator records without him, I just wanted to put in a good word for him.”

“Wait,” the killer said, standing up. His arms were now at his side, and his face was red. “I can help!” his voice was much louder than before.

“Why? You’ll still be in prison,” I said, putting my key into the slot. I held my place, hoping for him to bite.

“She used a blocked communicator!” he yelled putting his palms on his bunk, his head following soon after.

“So we’re screwed?” Begoon said as he pushed his fingers through his hair.

“Not exactly,” the man’s head shot up faster than anything I had ever seen before. “I record all my phone calls, for legal purposes.”

“OK, let’s see those recordings,” I said as I removed my key and approached him and his bunk.

“Fine, but I want a reduced sentence,” was all the man could say.

“Wait, your still bargaining? You do know Par courts have convicted men of death for similar ‘intrusions of justice,’” I said stopping. I was in arms reached of the man, ready to escort him back to his house so we could find the recordings.

“Whatever, just make sure you tell the courts about this assistance,” the man said as I led the way out of the cell. This could be his last time seeing the beautiful trees and landscape of Maynus, a feeling of sadness came over me.

We got into my car and drove away, I did feel uncomfortable having a prisoner in my pristine Rover. After passing the hundredth house, we finally reached the man’s. We got out of the car and walked on in. The house’s owner guided us through the long, tight hallway until it eventually opened into a small living area. The house was very small and looked to be home to only one bedroom, which was off the living room, located to the right. To the left was a small kitchen with an assortment of dirty dishes. “Nice place,” I muttered.

“Thanks,” the man said, I hadn’t intended him to have heard me. “I know it isn’t much, but it is home.”

“Yeah, sure. Now where are the recordings?” I asked, my foot began an impatient tapping.

“Uh, it should be right here.” He said, tossing a handful of papers aside and lifting a small black rectangular box of his table. It didn’t look like much, but as he opened it, a slight screeching sound was heard. This should be the tape, he said handing me a smaller box that had a clear front. Inside was a roll of some sort of paper, this was really primitive.

“Can this box play the film?” Begoon asked after the man handed him the larger box. I could care less about the stupid box, we had our proof.

“Why does it matter?” I eventually said as I began putting the tape in my breast pocket, but quickly stopped as the memory of my broken communicator entered my head. I then put the tape in a much safer place, my right pant pocket.

“Because, I’m pretty sure the office doesn’t have one of these things to play the audio,” Begoon replied. Maybe he was smarter than he looked. “Can we take this with us?” He then asked the other man, who nodded.

“Sounds good, now let’s get out of her.” I said. We then left the house, got in the car and drove back to the station. After we reached our desks, we set the black box down and played the tape.


 * Hello


 * Hello, Mr. Mocfo, Ah, yes, that is his name.


 * How can I help you?


 * Well, sir, I know you are working for my husband, the owner of Madd & Grad’s.


 * Ah, yes, everything is going according to estimates.


 * If you want it to stay that way, you’ll listen to me carefully.


 * OK, whatever you say miss.


 * I need you to kill my husband.


 * Right, OK. Do you want me to dance around Gevorian square yelling ‘Long live the Gevorian empire’ as well?


 * No, just the murder of my husband–


 * Wait, you’re serious?


 * Why wouldn’t I be, I’m a very serious woman, Mr. Mocfo.


 * I’m not going to kill a man, that’s illegal. 


 * Well if you don’t, then kiss your future goodbye.


 * Why, are you going to find a way to get me fired?


 * Don’t be silly, I’m going to kill you. Also, don’t try to go to authorities. This conversation will not appear on any records.


 * So you’ll kill me if I don’t kill your husband?


 * Wow, you were listening.


 * Fine, I’ll do it...

The recording ended there. “Why didn’t you come to us with this tape earlier?” I asked as I took the tape out and waved it in his face.

“You heard her, right? She said she would kill me if I didn’t do the job.”

“Job? You murdered a man. Even, we could have protected you from her. Now you’ll be arrested for murder and she’ll follow right beside you.”

“I know it was stupid,” he replied as he put his hands to his face. Good, at least he learned his lesson. Now if only he hadn’t done it in the first place.

“Take him away,” I told Begoon. We both stood up, he was to lead Mr. Mocfo to his cell and I was about to enjoy the great victory of telling the woman who was behind it all that we caught her. Best part though, the day hadn’t ended and I was looking at three skits, enough to buy a candy bar nowadays.

I opened the door to the interrogation room, waved off the complaint by the lawyer for making his client wait and told her the great news. We have a recorded phone conversation which names Mrs. Kimal as the one who hired Mr. Mocfo to kill her husband. Mrs. Kimal’s jaw dropped open as I spoke. The lawyer rubbed his temples, probably thinking of a way to get it dismissed in court. But I could care less, I had more cases to handle and my nose had never been in a law book, though I have seen my fair share of law thriller holo-vids. They never seem real enough, the main character is usually young and attractive. Nope, not me. Real life never compares to fiction.

I walked out of the room and to my desk, only to see Begoon. He was sitting in my chair sipping what I hoped to be his cup of coffee. “We did it,” he said as I approached. I pointed my fore-finger at him and then jerked my hand back, thumb sticking out, to firmly tell him to get out of my seat.

“Yeah, but tomorrow there will be a whole new crime to solve,” I said as I sat down in my warmed seat.

“Tomorrow?” I heard from behind me, it was Monel. “A dead body found on the border between the Gevorian and Noover sector can’t wait until tomorrow.” In my moment of triumph I had forgotten one important thing, crime never sleeps.

I jumped out of my seat, pulled open my desk and grabbed another Police Communicator. “Let’s go, Detective Begoon.”

The End