The Beast of 1977 (Book 1)

Chapter 33

Captain Brickman's disposition was both low key and solemn as he stacked a series of papers all in a row while sitting quietly at his desk.

From left to right, reports of the incident from the night before, along with a prostitution ring that was busted up around three a.m. were all gathered into his stiff hands and neatly placed to the side.

Staying busy was never a challenge for the besieged man; it was a natural way of life. But that morning lay heavy and hard upon him, like carrying a three hundred pound man on top of his shoulders for hours.

Purposely, he had managed to keep away from Linus so far that morning, even though seven o' clock hadn't even arrived yet. There was so much he wanted to say to his colleague and friend, but it wasn't the right time, not with the investigation underway. Instead, he chose to keep to himself, secluded to the safe confines of his office.

Every so often he would answer his phone to take angry complaints from those who found wrong with the police department, or he would come out to ask for another cup of coffee from one of the female officers, but all in all, the unobtrusive man remained stationery and out of the way.

A sudden knock at the door startled the captain to where he lost complete track of the filing detail that he was right in the middle of.

Exasperated, he dropped the papers that were in his hands and looked up to see a silhouette stand on the other end of the stained glass door.

"Come in." He gently grimaced.

From behind the door appeared Fitzpatrick, who himself looked as if he hadn't slept a wink in two nights.

"Uh, sir, Mr. Mercer is here." Alan unenthusiastically stated.

Without saying a word, the captain groaned, gathered his papers and raised himself up and out of his creaky old wooden chair. The man sailed past Alan on his way out of his office and through the main work area where phones were ringing off the hook every other second and officers were handing him the proverbial stare downs.

"He's downstairs in interrogation." Alan said while following right in behind Brickman.

Without stopping, Brickman replied, "I'm fully aware of where the gentleman is, Detective."

Both men carried on down the steps that led to the interrogation room. The captain was already an over boiling pot of unhinged nerves, having someone biting at his heels, at that time in the morning no less, only

Once they reached the correct floor Alan hurriedly and boldly

start with me,

there with O'Dea." Alan pressed on. "You know just as well as I

"What do you want me to do?" Brickman shrugged. "Run upstairs, grab Linus and jump out the window

just get the D.A. on the phone,

just a few doors down I have

his hands inside his pants pockets and sighing, "You should see this Mercer fellow. He looks like he's about

grunt, "Look, I've been up since nine last night. I'm high on Sanka, nicotine and cold medicine. Now, if I were you I wouldn't be concerned about my well-being as you are, because

his way past the interrogation room and directly to a tall, black

looked up at the officer and simply said, "Washington, we need

Without blinking, the officer looked down at

down the empty hallway before turning around and stepping just ten feet back to the interrogation room. With an overwhelming sense of trepidation, the captain approached the door and paused. Through the blurry glass he could see Mercer's large

already chock full of unbridled controversy and pain stricken calamity, Brickman had a pre-planned statement stored away in the furthest recesses of his brain, ready to send out

his hands folded and his eyes closed to the world. The second Brickman shut the door behind him Mercer opened his

hear the protesters outside the window behind Mercer yell and chant for justice and an end to police brutality. They had been out there for the

Brickman modestly broadcasted before sitting himself down on

brooding face never parted from the table. It almost appeared as if he were either far away in another world or just studying the

Bruin's actions from last night. All we know for

hoped that Mercer would at least make eye to eye contact with him. But no matter

suspended, without pay. Now, Mr. Mercer, we need

uttered, "Captain, can you imagine what it's like to look down upon your son and see his entire body opened up with bullets?" The man remarked without taking his

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