Framed
A brief introduction to a longer storyline.
"What's the scoop?"
"He's gone."
"What do you mean he's gone?"
"He drove off a cliff and died."
"Suicide?"
"Most likely."
The investigator tapped his pen on the desktop. "That certainly makes it harder to solve these multiple homicides."
His partner sighed, "we found this at his house." He produced a thick leather journal from his coat pocket. "He's detailed almost every day of the past four years in that thing."
"Did he confess to the murders?"
"Read it."
James reached over and took the book before opening it up. The organization was surprising, every page contained exactly one entry, and filled every line completely. "It's almost like he counted his words," he laughed.
"He did. Every entry has exactly 600 words."
James stared back at the deputy in disbelief, he had heard the guy was a nutcase, but every time he dives deeper into the life of him it gets more surprising. Some days he wondered if the suspect could even tell if he was killing somebody. He eagerly thumbed through the pages looking for the first major date. What he found wasn't the murder confession he was expecting.
"What do we know about this guy again?"
"His name is Austin. Tall grey wolf, goes by other names. Lives in a small flat on the outskirts of the city and drives a DMC-12. Arrested several times for reckless driving and for owning illegal fireworks."
The worn, ink soaked pages captured the attention of the investigator.
"October 12
They made me do it again, they made me watch as they murdered another. They told me that it was all my fault, that I was responsible to the bloody mess by my feet. I told them I was sorry, but they said it was too late. I don't know how I feel, it's like everything inside got all twisted up. I wish I could have done something. People keep looking at me differently, they always have, but now it's like they know something. If the police find me, I'm dead. I need to find a way to prove my innocence."
He stopped reading. "Don,"
"Yeah?"
"Do you believe that this dude is innocent?"
"With little supporting evidence, it's hard to say. The photos posted online of the bodies show him next to them."
"I'm not talking about evidence now, I'm asking you what you believe."
"I don't think he killed these people. Why?"
James leaned back in his chair. The old leather pressed into his back. "I expected a confession, something along the lines of 'I killed this red fox because I hated the way he looked at me' instead, I'm getting a story where Austin is being framed."
"We don't have any supporting evidence."
Don was right, as far as the police department was concerned, Austin was a murderer. The fluorescent bulbs overhead buzzed softly, but to James, it sounded like a freight train charging down the hall. He got up and took the journal, excused himself and left the room. The investigation had been ongoing for months, the first photo showed Austin standing over the body of an unidentifiable victim. His medical records showed signs of mental illness, but there had been no documented cases of violence. In fact, he was same enough to retain his drivers license. Perhaps, he thought, it would very well have been possible to bend his weekend mind into believing that he was responsible for the actions of someone else. He had talked with Austin once before, after he was arrested during an illegal drag race. The kid was young, smart...he just couldn't see how he could have been capable of murder. The case was running cold, and James knew his job was justice. The funny thing about justice though, is that it's not always fair.
He got to his home and unlocked the front door. The kitchen lights were left on, and he took a seat and began reading the journal. He had to find out who these people were.
"October 7
They arrived again. They took me to a coffee shop. I hate coffee. They showed me a picture of a fox, and asked if I knew what I did to him. I never saw him before, they said I got drunk and framed him for a robbery. They said that he'd have to die, or be tortured in prison. It didn't make sense, it was like they were lying to me. I can't get past my mental roadblock to figure this all out, but I know they're trying to manipulate me into believing something that's not true."
It didn't make sense, James flipped further back
"August 29
They took away my meds. I can't- I don't know what to do now. My doctor said I needed them. I can't find them, I know they were in the dresser. They were here, I saw them yesterday, maybe they took them. I called my doctor but all the phones were dead. My head hurts, I keep hearing stuff, the doctor said the pills would fix them. But now the pills are gone..."
"August 7
Went for a drive, my friend at the grocery store told me about another event a few nights from now, told me I could win enough to pay off my rent. I thought it was worth a shot, but after today, I realized that my car was not fast enough, need better bearing tracks. I'll never beat the other driver..."
"August 9
Meet up with the other driver, he seemed nice, drives a 69 blown charger. I made the deal with him, if I win, I keep my home and if he wins, well, I don't know what then."
James flipped through the entries eating up whatever information he could, his hand half reaching for the phone. Half the information in these entries detailed diet and sleep, as well as exercise. Journaling was obviously recommended by a psychiatrist.
"August 10
Sabotaged the other car..."
"August 11
Meet up at the strip, we were up first. The rumble of the engines almost draws me in, like a dream, funny I know. I needed to win, but I didn't. I slipped up on the clutch. He told me to meet him at his house tomorrow. He needed me to do some stuff for him. I found it odd how he raced for services rather than money, hope it's nothing weird."
"August 12
His address was 2231 Clark..."
James picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Don?"
"Yeah?"
"Can we go over to 2231 Clark? I wanna check it out."
"Now?"
"Yes, now."
"It's four in the morning!"
"I'll take that as a yes."
A few minutes later, Don pulled into the driveway. James hopped in and thumbed through the rest of the entries.
"What did you find in there?"
"Lots of stuff. Seems like he lost an illegal race, and got into some trouble for sabotaging a car. Looks like they roped him into some illicit activities and took him off his prescribed medications."
"You're saying that the 'real killer' used his mental incapacitation against him?"
"If he's being honest in the journal, yes."
"Why hasn't a doctor seen it?"
"These are usually recommended as private exercises," James told him. "If I'm right, we'll find some evidence in the house."
"We have no search warrant"
"We'll deal with that later, I've been working on this case for far to long just to turn around without a warrant."
The two cops pulled up to the front of the home. Don pulled out a few short picks and opened the door. A brief look into the garage showed that no one seemed to be home. The place was dark and unsettling. Two open laptops sat on the counter, James began searching the files. It didn't strike him as being odd that two laptops were open in an empty home, all while being logged on...until the toilet flushed. The bathroom door adjacent to the kitchen opened up and a large figure stepped out, startled at first, but then pulled out a gun shooting Don in the chest.
"Excuse me officer, didn't mean to shoot you," he sneered.
James pulled out his gun and leveled it at the dark outline of shooter. "Who are you?"
"I'm the resident of this home."
"Do you know a guy named Austin?"
"Yeah, we've met."
The demeanor of the other person was unsettling, calm, confident, cocky. "Did you frame him for murder?"
"Yep," he laughed, "now I'll frame him for yours as well."
"He's dead."
"Aww, that's a shame," he laughed before firing at James. The bullet ripped through him, and at first he couldn't feel anything, but the initial shock wore off and he fell down to his knees. The assailant steeped forward, he was taller than James, and he placed the barrel of his gun on his head. James closed his eyes as the deafening crack of another gun went off. He felt nothing, Don shot the leopard in the head.
Squad cars surrounded the home within an hour, and both James and Don were taken to the hospital. The next few days went by quickly as police sweeped the laptop hard drives, finding the evidence required to prove Austin innocent on all charges of murder. They were a bit late. If Austin survived his attempted suicide, the he would still have to answer for auto-theft, armed robbery, street racing, and tax fraud. The remains of Austin's car were dragged out of the river later that week. The twisted pile of stainless steel served as definitive evidence that a fall from that height was lethal, but Austin's body wasn't recovered.
Author's note:
I want grape juice