Case: Gerard A. Way
The birds swooped low. The water seemed to shimmer blue. It looked like it had diamonds resting on the small tilts of waves. There weren’t any people. There would have been, too, on a beautiful and slightly chilly Sunday. It wasn’t that everyone was at church or home, it being a holy day and all. No, the issue stood for the fact that there was a minor found dead under the bridge.
The fucking birds swooped low to see if they could get breakfast.
The water was beautiful and dangerous. Though it looked as if it just beckoned you to touch its’ water, it was possibly the cause of the boy’s death. The forensics needed more room to find ‘cause of death’ and all that shit. I just wanted to find out who he was to break the news to the folks and catch the sick bastard who killed him.
So far, all they had stated was: around 15-20, male, Caucasian.
Well, jeez, that’s just dandy.
“Hey, got any leads on who this kid is?” I asked the group of forensics surrounding the mangled body. One of them narrowed their eyes at the body.
“Gerard Arthur Way, seventeen years old of Belleville, New Jersey,” She said, looking up at me and squinted in the sun.
“It says that in his bones?” I asked, trying to make a joke as she slipped something in a plastic evidence bag and handed it to me.
“Yeah, I found the wallet tucked neatly in between his tibia and fibula,” She replied, her voice reeked of sarcasm. I glared at her and took the bag.
“Thanks,” I replied bitterly and walked away from the body, because frankly, it was disturbing to look at the body. I’ll always think of the victims’ body nameless. Every time I look at a picture of the real person and not the body, my gut feels so twisted. I shuttered and opened the sealed bag. Sitting down on the sandy ground, I prepared myself to reveal the forgotten face.
His hair was brown and short. He smiled in the picture, showing all of his teeth, which were slightly small. His eyes were hazel and faintly distant, but it fit his face. He was wearing a Ninja Turtles T-Shirt. I flipped through the wallet, looking for something more than a license. I found a Starbuck’s Coffee card and a phone number scribbled on a yellow sticky note. I sighed deeply and looked at the sky.
I pulled out my phone and dialed the number. After a few rings, a woman answered the phone.
“Hello?” She asked, seemingly nice.
“Hello, Detective Winters here, ma’am.” I spoke into the phone in my most kind voice.
“What’s this all about?” I got ready to speak, but she raised her voice a little. “Does this have something to do with my daughter?”
“Daughter?” I asked curiously.
“Yes, you know she’s a hassle. Always ignoring my husband and I, dressing like a, well, you do know what I mean,” I smiled into the phone. “She’s right here; would you like to talk to her?”
“Thank you, miss, that would be wonderful,” I said politely and stared at the picture of the kid, before feeling slightly sick, like always.
“Gia St. Pierre! Get down here right now!” I heard the mother screech, it sounded so terrifyingly loud I had to hold it about a foot away from my ear. “Here she is,” She said, her voice reaching normal human level as I thanked her once more.
“Make it snappy,” A voice growled at me.
“I’m Detective Winters and----,”
“Look, if you’re asking about that Rite Aid that got robbed or whatever, I didn’t do anything, okay?” She shouted defensively.
“It’s not like that----,”
“Oh? Then what is it?” She cut me off as I sighed impatiently.
“I’d like to ask you your relation with Gerard Way,” She laughed as I said his name.
“What’d he do? Did he get himself in trouble again?” I furrowed my brows and adjusted the phone.
“What kind of trouble does he normally get himself in?”
“Oh, ya know, stealing from his dad’s office, ditching class, ya know. Kid’s stuff,”
“Miss St. Pierre, Gerard is dead,” There was a stunned and expectant silence on the other line. It lasted for about a minute.
“Shit, man, what’d he do?” She asked, her voice felt heart wrenching, like it always felt when I broke the news.
“I’ve been trying to find out what’s been done to him,” I replied sadly. “Could you tell me what he was like in school?” I pulled out a pen from my pocket and a notepad.
“Uhm, yeah, he was, well, a nice kid,” She stumbled over her words. The news was still sinking in. “He did skip classes, but that was only ‘cause Jared and his group would beat the shit outta him,”
“Jared Ingram,” she replied as I wrote it down in my notepad. “Mister…” She started. “You’re gonna catch this son of bitch bastard, right?” I bit my lip. I hated making promises I knew I might not be able to keep.
“I’ll make sure he gets locked up,” I stated as I stood up, slipping the wallet back in the bag.
“Thanks, Mister,” She replied with gloom and hung up the phone. I did the same and slipped it in my back pocket.
This is going to be a long case.
A/N: What do all of you out there think? Please R&R!