Standing over another body, it's just part of the job.
I have been a homicide detective for 18 years.
This one is tough.
Normally, gang members don't live to be my age.
This one had, in fact, he was instrumental in helping others to learn a different way. He was the owner of a couple of businesses and organizations that hired ex-cons and educated people who are and/or were in prison.
No matter who they were affiliated with all of the gangsters respected "OG."
He wasn't a Bay Area native, his gang-banging had been in the Midwest, Chicago, IL and Saint Louis, MO.
I used to be one of those cops that tell jokes at crime scenes, I think it's a nervous habit.
I am so not in the mood for jokes, especially when it casts my victim as anything other than a victim.
I would be lying if I said that we had been friends or even friendly. We knew our prospective roles in this game, I respected OG, and he respected me.
Kneel by his massive body and examine the bullet wounds, don't understand why this is hard for me. The man and I usually had extremely tense and curt conversations, whenever we were forced to talk.
I have worked other murders in the 5 blocks surrounding this former warehouse.
Murders, I wouldn't have been able to solve if it hadn't been for OG.
The perps in those crimes turned themselves into me and confessed, all of that was Thurston "OG" Allgood's doing.
He might not have still been 'in the life' but this had undeniably been his neighborhood.
He was responsible for hundreds of little kids getting their hair done or cut before school started.
He gave away clothes to the families who needed them. Employed their father's helped with child support and daycare.
It's a bloody scene.
Whoever killed my Vic, will definitely look worse for wear.
The blood on the knuckles is a dead give away. Thurston had fought and from the lack of bruises on his face, it would appear as if he had been getting the best of his assailant.
In this neighborhood, there is always a motive for the murders. Those motives might sound silly, "He disrespected me." "She was fucking the Homie!" Or my favorite. "Homie was looking at me wrong."
Whatever the motives whatever the reason in this hood there is always a reason.
Ignore my fellow detectives.
Understand the laughter is a shield.
Something we use to insulate ourselves from the grim truth of how easily and often death comes into our midst.
Block out all of the conversations in the background.
The shutter of the camera's, the buzz of the uniforms, discussing Golden States chances in the finals.
I picture the events as they took place.
OG's platinum six-point star necklace is missing.
I saw the man several times over the last 12 years, including one embarrassing moment when he answered the door wearing nothing but that chain and tattoos.
Robbery.
It's one of the top motives for murder in this and every underprivileged area in the world.
The chain was worth a couple of thousands of dollars.
Nah, it doesn't seem plausible.
Even if he hadn't been a major figure as far as the streets were concerned, at 6'7" and 290 lbs. he wasn't the ideal victim for a robbery.
There is a bulge in his pocket, I'd bet my pension its money.
No this wasn't a robbery.
Five entry wounds all in the chest.
All tightly grouped.
I'm on the Oakland police department sharpshooting team and my groupings aren't that tight.
Perp used a .38, took the casing with them.
I walk away from the body of a man that many saw as a hero.
I observe the dents in the wall.
Someone was thrown into that wall to make that dent.
Even after leaving the crime scene I play the events over and over in my head.
No one wants to talk to me.
I realize that if he were not the victim OG wouldn't have been talking either.
He would have handled it his way, the street way, and left the pieces for me.
No cop likes to admit it but we need the criminal element, and I am not just talking about for job security either.
No, the right criminal can make the streets self-policing and that was what OG did for me.
I will solve his murder.
Owe him that much.
The gang unit arrives.
These clowns again.
Just to be fair, they have a couple of pretty good cops in the Gang task force, I haven't met them, but I'm sure they are there.
Most of these 'smucks' are the same kids that the gang members terrorized.
I work with their team often, and they all have a vendetta against anything that's gang-related.
I use my in charge voice, all of my height, the swagger I got from the Corps, and let them know that it's my case.
"Gentlemen, this is a homicide. The murdered individual is the large man you see being photographed there. By virtue of the dead, murdered and dare I say homicide having been committed upon individual just behind me this is My Case!"
Might have roared just a little bit more than the situation called for, but I felt like a Lion, and this is my kill, hyenas.
Detective Ramirez, the budget, Ricky Martin of law enforcement.
The bastard looks slimy.
Couldn't force me to shake his hand.
The rest of the pack of scavengers: Harden, the gym rat, he was the fa, shit can't say that anymore, the overweight kid in high school, and it shows.
He's about the size of a Terry Crews but light-skinned with red hair. Man, a husky black ginger kid, I know why he's such a douche Tube. He also has the worst taste in suits, looks as if he went to a pimp's yard sale.
Adolf Gitler, true story, that's this cops name.
I know that it's wrong, but you have to say both names you can't help it, it's like watching a train wreck, you cannot look away from it.
He's not a Nazi.
He's a "brother."
Yeah, it must have been rough growing up in the hood named Adolf Gitler.
That's not the worst part, he's thin, short, just had Lasik and still needs glasses which tells me why the others call him "Bottles, " that might be the first time an insulting nickname is better than a given name.
The last and worst, on the scene is Beckworth.
I honestly despise him.
He has been demoted so much that in order to get the pension he needs to retire the racist old dick, would have accepted anything to pass his final years. However, he loves working for the gangs, and I think that the department is going to have to force him out.
"Come on, Mohammed!"
That's me.
"Look at all that ink, can you read all that rank? This dude is the Gold Mine of Chicago Gang Banging come on, brother."
The new voice is one of the new additions to the task force.
There are two of them.
The worst of the hyenas.
Both are recent transfers to the"Bay."
Both look like they have been fighting a lawnmower.
I have my suspects, I have no doubt in my mind that these two are my killers, I dial the chief.
"Greg, I want the gang unit and any other cop that is not in homicide off my crime scene. I have a hunch, and I think that you are going to want to listen to me."
Gregory Gamble, the chief of Police.
He wants to be Mayor.
I want him to because I want to be chief of police.
Greg is a good cop, I trust him, and he feels the same.
The order comes down to the uniforms and I hand pick my team.
I even dismiss some of the homicide detectives.
I have one of those guys, my dismissals, take the newest Gee Pee's, that's what the streets call the "Gang Police", to a lunchtime happy hour to bitch about me.
It's my brother's place I can get my hands on the prints and DNA, I mean it's not like the department doesn't have it on file, I just like to have my own.
I get the CSI techs to take impressions of the holes in the sheet-rock and in a couple of spots the paneling.
I collect the evidence, it's easy when you know what to look for.
The drinking lunch is going to plan and it seems both of the new officers, Sanchez and Jefferson, transfers from Chicago, are nursing back and hip injuries.
"Curiouser and curiouser."
Judge Augustine, was hesitant but Issued the warrants.
Two police officers.
Their wounds, which the warrant allows us to see, are consistent with being thrown into the wall.
The gun is never found.
No ties are ever made to the other members of the gang unit. Although my gut tells me that they knew about the killing.
It was as if the Chicago streets sent the two of them to collect its debt.
They are convicted of murder in the first such case.
I get justice for a bad man.
It doesn't bring him back.
Suppose I was hoping that Allgood would disprove a theory I have, the streets won't let you retire.
It gets proven every time.
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