I finally made it into work after that crazy encounter at the parking garage. However, the death of Mr. Evans weighted heavily on my mind. As I went about the motions of the day, I thought to send out an inquiry to the local police department requesting the official report. However, I had to write and report my own account of that situation to our HR department. Contrary to your normal HR department, this department concerned itself chiefly with the well being and safety of agents and analysts, such as myself. Since this was not my first time dealing with a body count, I went through the motions without much thought. However, as I went through the motions, I realized that I had never had to deal with a body count since Prague in '04 and never had I had to deal with someone dying this close to home. With these thoughts swimming through my head, I proceeded through my day at work. Not much interesting was coming through. I finished up my after action report from the document transfer in Poland and decided it was time to head home. However, right as I was packing up my things to leave, a HR representative came by,
"Leclerc, we got your report on the death of your neighbor. We encourage you to investigate. However, if things become heated, we are relocating you. So, be discreet. We are working with the police to secure the report."
"Merci Evans. I shall proceed accordingly."
I took that as a sign to leave and left the desk. On my drive home, I considered how I was to investigate this mystery. Hmm, I thought, I shall start with this Coco woman. She appears to have been almost complacent in information for the murder.
I pulled into the parking lot, and gathered my nerves, as I do before every operation. I exited my car and decided to stake out in the coffee shop, which was on the main street. However, as I was on my way there, I spotted Coco leaving a park bench and heading towards the bar. Breaking every protocol in my head, I stopped for a second a took in the situation and started after Coco to the tiki bar. After all, I was only a friendly neighbour heading to the bar for a friendly conversation.
When I reached the bar, I sought out Coco and sat next to her
"Bad buisness about ze Mr. Evans no?'
"Yesh fer real"
"Were you two close?"
"Yea he was a friend"
"My deep condolences. Here, first round is on me."
It had been a while since I had really decided that it was a good idea to drink in large quantities, but tonight seemed to be as good as an opportunity as any. Besides, if anything went wrong, I had that comforting little weight tucked in on my right hip...
“Sorry to interrupt your process...Are you Leclerc?” Chief Flock asked.
ReplyDelete“No,” I said.
He clearly wasn’t satisfied by this answer so I proceeded with “Cleo Valentine.” He offered a handshake
and I glanced at it with perturbation and gripped my camera a little tighter.
He cleared his throat and continued.
“My apologies. We were informed that a detective who lives in the building would come today to
investigate Mr. Evans’ death...If you aren’t Leclerc I will have to ask you to leave. Do you have some
kind of detective badge I can check?” he asked as he eyed my battered jean jacket, ripped jeans, and
dirty boots.
I shifted uncomfortably and quickly identified the nearest exits in my peripheral vision.
“No, sorry,” I quietly said and slipped away from the crime scene.
I exited in a huff, embarrassed that my abilities were not valued.
As I began to organize pictures of the crime scene on a giant board inside of my apartment I began to
wonder: Who the hell is Leclerc? And is he willing to work with me?"
As Blasi returned, he opened his computer and saw a notification. He opened it and read the following:
ReplyDelete“ Dear Mr. Blasi,
I need your help.
Pierre Leclerc”
"That's it," he spoke to the koi swimming by. "It's time to bring the garden to the people, or the people to the garden."
ReplyDeleteSo he gathered small seedling pots, and separated some larger plants, and transplanted them. He stood gazing over his projects.
For the rest of the evening, as the sun was going down, he labelled the pots for delivery to the residents. By 3 AM he had delivered to Anna, Arizona, and Brendan a "Flaming Katy"
to Caris, Cleo, and Joseph a "Panda Plant" to Letitia, Luca, and Pierre a "Crown of Thorns" he thought they all needed a little light and interest in their lives.