Mystery and Crime Fiction posted March 2, 2024 Chapters: 1 -2- 3... 


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Money theft.

A chapter in the book Guilt-Stained Badge

Brian Anderson

by Douglas Goff

The author has placed a warning on this post for language.



Background
Gruff Homicide Detective Morgan was nailing a prostitute when he was called to investigate the death of another hooker.

“How many times are you going to ask the same question, Anderson?”

“As many times as I like, Detective Harper.” The pudgy-faced Internal Affairs Officer glared at him. “The truth would put an end to it.”

Ten years ago, Brian Anderson and Morgan had been classmates at the academy. They had gotten along well, competing in everything. One always trying to beat the other.  

Once they got out on the streets, Morgan had excelled while Anderson had floundered. Morgan made great collars and got some key arrests that caught the attention of the press and in turn, their bosses.  

It wasn’t so much luck or skill, even though Morgan had been a motivated hard worker, that pushed him ahead of his classmate. It was that Brian lacked the one thing it really took to be a good cop. Guts. When the shit hit the fan, the man just never stepped up.  

This created a rift between the two former friends. When Morgan’s promotion to homicide detective came in, Anderson decided to join Internal Affairs. Now here they were.  

“I know you took the money out of the evidence room. Hell, everyone at the precinct knows it. You may have turned off the camera, but your fingerprints were all over the lock box. Not too smart for such a hotshot detective like you.”

Morgan shook his head. “My fingerprints? Are you shitting me? I’ve turned in evidence at least a dozen times that month alone when the money went missing. You’re grasping at straws.”

“Yes. You did.” Anderson was smirking. “But you hadn’t turned in any money for over twelve months. Your prints had no business being on that safe.”

Morgan’s blood began to boil as he rose. “Listen here you piece of shit. I ain’t no thief. I didn’t take that fucking money.”

“Sit down.” IA Anderson remained seated and pointed at the now-empty chair, unfazed.  

Morgan continued to glare at the smug man. 

“I said sit, Detective.”  

Morgan slowly reclaimed his seat.  

“Now you listen, and you listen real good, Morgan. Everyone knows you took the $30,000.”

“I—-“ he started to protest, but Brian Anderson raised his hand, silencing him.

The porky man got up and switched off the interview camera although it was standard procedure for these types of inquiries to be taped. Then he turned back to Morgan and let out a long sigh, frowning at the still-seated man. 

“We used to be good friends, Anderson. What happened to us?” Morgan stared at his hands. 

“What happened to us?  Super cop Harper got everything spoon fed and handed to him on a silver platter. Meanwhile, the rest of us had to crawl our way up the ladder the hard way.” Anderson shoved his chair out of the way, seething. 

“We used to be tight.” Morgan looked up at Brian. 

“You used to be a good cop. Highly decorated before your wife died.” Anderson smirked. 

“Don’t talk about her.” Morgan slammed his fist on the table. “Debra has nothing to do with this!”

“Don’t go getting your panties in a bunch, Detective. I’m about to cut you a break.” Anderson leaned forward. “You’re right. We used to be friends. Good friends. So I made a strong case for leniency. This is what I’ve been authorized to do by the DA. First, you confess and return the money. Then you’ll be suspended for thirty days and, pending a hearing by the review board, possibly terminated. But, the good news is you’ll face no criminal charges.”

“Look, I—-“

Anderson cut him off again, “Morgan, you’re facing serious jail time here if you don’t put this to bed. Do you know what they do to former cops in the joint? It ain’t pretty, even for a tough guy like you. You have thirty days to think this over. We’ll meet back here in one month, when I’ll expect to hear a confession. You will put this to bed. Understood?”

Morgan shook his head and slowly rose, refusing to answer the man.  Fuckwad. I have to get out of here before I do something I can’t take back. 

Morgan drove straight home, seething at the pudgy Anderson’s attitude. Once inside his apartment he opened a cupboard where seven or eight new fifths of Jack Daniel’s awaited their turns at his lips. Half-gallons would be cheaper, but I like to have different types, and I have the money. Besides, they are easier to carry around. 

He rarely left anything but empties these days, downing nearly a fifth a day. There was proof of this littering every room of his apartment.  

How long have I been doing that? Geez, too long to remember. Maybe I should cut back? Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll start tomorrow. Next week at the latest. He took a deep swig straight from the bottle, wondering when he’d last eaten. 

Morgan took off his two-piece gray suit and tossed it over the recliner. He knew it would probably stay there until his next IA meeting.  

Morgan stood in the living room of his lonely two-bedroom apartment. Clothes, pizza boxes, and dishes were strewn about. Debra ran a clean ship. Me, not so much. He made a half-hearted attempt at cleaning up, but finally ended up on the leather coach downing shots. Debra had insisted on leather furniture. 

I have to stop thinking about her. Something more positive. Hmm. . . Anderson used to be my friend. Now he has a vendetta against me.  Asshole. 

He knew what was coming tomorrow. More fun. The drinking went on for quite awhile until at some point Morgan passed out. He woke up the following morning, curled up in a ball in the corner of the living room. 

Sleeping on the floor gave him several kinks in his body and a sore back that were all too happy to join his hangover in making him miserable. He grabbed the bottle from the floor next to him and downed the remaining swallow. Hair of the dog and all that happy horseshit. 

He staggered into his bathroom and took a cold shower to prepare himself for his most despised 10:00 am appointment. I swear, if she asks about my dream even one more time . . . 
 

Character/Suspect List: 

Homicide Detective Morgan Harper - The heavily faulted main character who never recovered from the suicide of his wife.  

Kelly Pierson - a young, new to the game, prostitute who is frequented by Detective Morgan. 

Debra Harper - Morgan’s deceased wife who committed suicide.  

Tamra Burns- a crime scene technician who is Debra's identical twin.

Internal Affairs Officer Brian Anderson - Investigating Morgan Harper  

Mac Yung- Aggressive reporter. 

Jennifer Collins - The first victim prostitute. you know 





Chapter one flowed out smoothly, but then this one just came to life on the page. So far so good.

This story is a graphic and gritty crime novel. Do NOT read this if you do not like harsh reads.

I can not promote daily on this so if you are one of my two free reviewers please correct something!
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