So there I was at the precinct, a young rookie cop who had ambitions to become famous. I had just graduated from the low ranks and now I was ready for my first case as a New York homicide detective. Just as I was daydreaming about making the headlines on an amazing collar, Captain Leland called my name.
"Bob! We’ve got a murder on 42nd Street! Take Bruce and see if you can catch this perp before he strikes again!"
"What makes you think he’ll strike again?" I asked.
"He’s got the same MO as that serial killer from a week ago. We’ve been tracking him for a while," Captain replied as he handed me some crime scene photos.
"Oh, yeah! I remember reading that article in the newspaper with my old squad!" I commented. Suddenly, Bruce interrupted us.
"Are we gonna chat like ladies or are we gonna catch this perp?"
"Alright, partner, get the squad car ready."
"Sure, but just don’t call me partner. It sounds weird."
"Ok, ok, c’mon!"
Traveling the streets of New York City as a rookie cop was amazing. My mouth gaped open like a child at a toy shop. I couldn’t wait to chase down criminals, earn prestige and swim in fame and money.
The crime scene was equally amazing, except for the fact that someone had died. I loved the idea of a bunch of info waiting to be learned. I just hoped that I wouldn’t fail by missing some key evidence, or letting the perp have the time to murder another citizen.
As Captain had said, this murder was very similar to others that were of one man, Evil McVillain, who could not be put on trial until the prosecution had more evidence.
"Hopefully he was sloppy this time and left us some DNA," I commented to Bruce.
"Hoping is for wimps, kids. We will find a mistake here. I’m sure of it!" Bruce replied triumphantly.
"Well, I still doubt an experienced killer like him would-" I was cut short by Bruce, who lifted up a banana peel to find a gun.
"Found it!" Bruce bellowed to the evidence collectors. They swaggered over and used a latex glove to pop the gun into a fancy-looking bag. Unfortunately, that was all the evidence that could be found, so Bruce and I headed back to the precinct.
On our way back, we spotted something most horrible. An old brick building with discolored windows and a black sign that read: EVIL McVILLAIN HQ.
"Hey, partner-I mean Bruce! Check this out," I said, pointing out the squad car window. Bruce pulled over onto the sidewalk.
"Do you think our friend is home?" Bruce asked sarcastically as he jumped out of the squad car.
"Only one way to find out!" I grinned, walking up to the front door.
"I’ll get the front if you cover the back." Bruce proposed.
"Sure," I replied, already sneaking around the side of the building. A few seconds later, when I was at the back door, I heard Bruce.
"NYPD! Open the dang door!" I heard a crash, and then saw an angry man with big muscles running towards me. He saw me and spun 180 degrees. But Bruce was too quick, leaping into the air and body slamming the man. As I cuffed him, Bruce read him his Miranda rights, finishing with a growl of a voice.
"Looks like you’ve lost this time, Evil McVillain!"
Back at the precinct, Captain Leland congratulated me.
"Well done, Bob. I see a sunny future for you in this department. Have you seen the newspaper that will be sold tomorrow?" He handed me a copy. The headline read "One Less Serial Killer on the Streets" and showed a picture of Bruce and me shoving Evil McVillain into the back of the squad car.
"The gun we found is enough to convict him," Captain continued. "It has his fingerprints on it."
"Thank you, sir," I said proudly. "I’ll go help the ADA."
"No, no, no! I’ll send Bruce. You go enjoy the rest of your evening. And tomorrow, too, when the press comes to interview you," Captain chuckled.
I couldn’t believe it! My first collar! And Captain said that I had a sunny future! I knew that would be the start of a great career.
And it was.