The Innocents Nathan Senthil (i wanna iguana read aloud TXT) 📖

have let go. With your experience, you might have become a lieutenant or captain by now.”

Joshua smiled, thinking about his ex-captain and friend Raymond. That bureaucrat had climbed two more rungs in the ladder and become Inspector, while Joshua, who joined the academy the same day as him, was still a detective.

“The next level contains too much desk and too little policing.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“Not for me. I believe it’s better to die on the field than sitting around, broadening my ass.”

Peter pondered over that for a few moments. “Perhaps I should follow that belief, too.”

“Copy me if you want to get divorced,” Joshua muttered under his breath.

“What’s that?” Peter tilted his head.

“Nothing. I just said welcome to the team.”

Chapter 19

March 15, 2019. 06:52 P.M.

Coke in hand, Joshua was sitting in front of the TV, watching the news, dry eyelids peeled back. Fingers scrabbling in the almost-empty bowl of nachos, Peter slouched at the other end of the same couch, head adhered to the same TV. A quarter century of chasing the most wanted criminal in the country, Joshua had never seen footage of Lolly.

Now he’s gonna!

There was no CCTV recording in the robbery he had investigated in 1993. And the FBI weren’t candid with their subsequent cases. Now a TV network, Daily Herald, DH as known colloquially, was going to broadcast it to the world.

“It’s just mind boggling, what the media can get away with these days,” Peter said.

Joshua didn’t know if it was distaste or thankfulness in Peter’s tone. A higher up in DH, one Ashley Stuart, had called Joshua a few days ago and asked if he would participate in a live telecast and share insights about Lolly.

Insight? He was an unholy animal that murdered people for green cotton-linen! There was nothing philosophical or poetic about it. Plain old noxious stew of greed, envy, and selfishness at play.

Joshua had declined, not so politely, but now he regretted calling her a Ms. Ashley Stooge, even though it was accurate—the girl hadn’t told him they possessed a freaking video of Lolly! Joshua would have agreed not just to give an interview, but also one of his balls if they’d so demanded, provided that they showed him the video. But everything turned out well, he guessed, for his useless ball at least. Now the DH was going to show the video anyway.

The anchor on the TV droned on about something drab, not yet bringing up Lolly’s news that they had made the whole country wait for.

And they cut to commercials.

“Goddamn it!” Peter muted the TV and placed the remote beside him on the cushion. Then he upended the nachos bowl into his mouth.

Of course the DH was not going to play their prized video clip before the final advertisement, saving the best for last. The mongrels would prolong the suspense, create hype until they made sure they got the attention of as many viewers as they could.

Joshua placed the half empty bottle of Coke on the table, sighed, and rubbed his temples between his fingertips. Years of melancholy flooded his mind.

Joshua had voluntarily retired from the NYPD as he was unable to concentrate on any cases except Lolly’s. An unfocused homicide detective translated to murderers walking free. So he quit the force in 2002. To pay bills, he took odd jobs like consulting security, investigating thefts, surveying adulterers, performing backgrounds on job applicants, and what have you. Not a full-blown PI exactly, but a part time one. There was not a ton of evidence to go on in Lolly’s case anyway.

Lolly’s gang had robbed a bank in North Dakota in 2008, and poof, they were gone. No one had heard from them ever since.

Joshua initially thought that Lolly’s two partners might have killed him and expropriated the business, but no bank robbery across the contiguous United States after 2008 fit their pattern. Joshua knew. He had been going through all the national criminal databases with the help of Raymond, who was now the commissioner of the NYPD. Lolly’s gang had truly stopped their trade.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, including Joshua. He kind of felt bummed as his life’s work was gonna be for nothing. But hey! At least they weren’t murdering anyone.

Until they showed up again last month.

A bank robbery in Bristol, Connecticut, left one dead and one gravely injured. The newspaper and media were all over it because one of the robbers was sucking a lollipop when he did the deed.

Since they might have a new case now, Joshua called the FBI. They were stingy with video evidence but liberal in giving other information. Well, not they. Just one person had helped Joshua. The same person who had been his snitch for years: Nigel Harris.

He was a member of the fourth or fifth special task force the FBI had created in 2003 to apprehend Lolly. Joshua and Nigel had developed a bond of sorts over the years, but it slowly severed after Lolly disappeared. Joshua hadn’t spoken with him in a decade.

When Joshua heard about Bristol, he rang Nigel who confirmed that Lolly had truly returned. And he had promised he would call back with more information.

Joshua had waited without sleeping that night. But when Nigel had said call back, he hadn’t mentioned it might take him twenty-one days and thirteen hours. However when he did get the call, it was worth the wait.

As soon as Joshua answered the phone, the tired sounding FBI agent had said, sans any greetings, “We know what gun Lolly uses.”

Joshua’s fingers gripped his cell phone.

“A Desert Eagle.”

“That’s impossible,” Joshua said almost immediately. A part of him, the one which knew everything about the case back and forth, took over, and he was in autopilot. “Desert Eagles create 1:18” twist rate for .44 but the bullets we recovered