GrowingOlderHopeWiser

Gabriel reached for his cell phone; it was just out of his reach. Richard kicked it under the black SUV and stepped hard on his hand with his steel-toed Doc Martens. One more kick to his face, crushing his nose. Just one more fatal blow with the hammer sealed the deal. He took his cell phone, wallet, and watch. A robbery gone wrong. He left him in the alley where no one cared. He knew it was a dark spot, no CCTV and away from the hustle and bustle of the big city lights. Tucked among the heaps of trash spilling from the overloaded dumpsters and the stench of blood and garbage.

Richard Hughes’s setup featured four monitors. Flipper Zero, USB Rubber Ducky, WiFi Pineapple, and a Raspberry Pi. Stacks of his favorite graphic novels lined the side, three crushed cans of Red Bull in the trash bin, and one Red Bull with a bag of Doritos on the table next to him. The room was dimly lit by neon lights along the walls. A small fridge held his energy drinks and a single bed.

Self-satisfied, he continued his work, emptying the accounts of Gabriel’s clients. He deserved it; he stole my idea and made a million with it. 

A week’s worth of beard, dark circles under his eyes, and black, spiked hair made him look like a madman. Perhaps he was mad, mad at the world, but he finally scratched that itch of jealousy and got rid of his “Friend” and former partner. 

Richard felt Gabriel had stolen his idea, created the highly successful game Planet Axiom, and left him behind. It took weeks of careful planning and only minutes to execute. Richard invited Gabriel to celebrate the second release of Planet Axiom 2. He said he’d pick him up and wanted it to be just the two of them. Old buddies. He took him to a punk pub in the Bowery. A quick slip of GHB for GBH into his beer, then a walk to the black SUV, helping a buddy too drunk to drive. 

Detective Louise Costello and her partner, David Smith, teamed up on this one. The scene was a bloody massacre. 

“This was personal,” said Lou.

The hammer was tossed over the back fence but was soon found. CSI set up floodlights and a tent; it was still dark, and the alley was dimly lit. Police cruiser blue lights bounced off the walls and lit the sky.

“No CCTV,” said David.

“Do we know who he is?” asked Lou.

“No wallet,” said ME Cassandra Jones.

“Rapid ID says he is Gabriel Lynch,” said David, who had run his fingerprints on the mobile device.

“Call Paulette to see if she can look up Gabriel Lynch. Let’s wrap this up and head back to the station.” Lou took the lead; she was the senior detective. 

“Grievous Bodily Harm (GBH): This man didn’t stand a chance against such rage.” The ME, Cassandra, was giving them the rundown. Gabriel’s young body lay on the cold steel of the ME’s table. “The weapon of choice was the hammer; the claw was broken off the hammer. The fatal blow was to the right temple.” Cassandra went on. “Steel-toed boots were also used; see these kick marks along the ribs and face.”

“There is a Punk Bar Jerks not too far from the alley; we can start there. Maybe he was with someone,” said David. 

Paulette, at the station, reported that Gabriel Lynch was the CEO of Great Star, the company that published Planet Axiom and other games. Photos, notes, and scribbles about the case appeared on the crime board. A picture was starting to take shape. “We know who our victim is, how he died, and where he died. Cassandra estimates the time of death around 3 am. So we know when.” Lou wrote in big letters on the board, Why? “I think that will lead us to Who?”

Jerkswas just opening for the night when the detectives arrived, badge in hand, with a photo of Gabriel Lynch pulled from the internet. Stitch, one of the bartenders on duty that night, remembered him. He was too Upper East Side to be in that neighborhood. He stood out like a sore thumb, but his buddy fit right in. He gave them as good a description as he could. Short, spiky black hair, a scruffy beard, and a snake tattoo on the side of his neck. “We want you to come into the station so we can get the sketch artist and you can also look at some mug shots.” Lou handed him her card. 

Richard monitored the police radio as he prepared to escape. He had a nice offshore account filled with stolen money, a passport, and tickets to Morocco. He had removed his black spiky wig and sported a blond crew cut; the tattoo was temporary as well. Dressed in a business suit and carrying his computer and briefcase, he boarded flight 657 to Morocco.

Lou and David were left chasing phantoms.