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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2227607-The-Detective
Rated: E · Draft · Crime/Gangster · #2227607
A short summary of Detective Heartings
Like a lot of detectives, I had my thirty years in. I had started when I was fresh out of school, and while a lot of the guys I knew were retiring, I couldn’t give it up. I was going to ride this boat til there were no more waves. I wanted to get to forty-five, at least.

Many of my cases were solved, some of them unsolved, and being one of the senior detectives on the force, I usually got my pick of anything that came in. I was respected, and this drove my loyalty, and made me want to stick with it.

My wife had left me years earlier; it was either because of my drinking, or personality; you know the feeling you get when you’ve been doing a stake-out for twelve hours, and get home, and not want to talk.

I had since quit the booze, after noticing that it would make me much more testy, and much more likely to shoot from the hip, without thinking about the consequences. During my drinking days, they called me Cowboy, and after I had quit, it had just become Detective Heartings. After my drinking days, I got promoted, and got more money, and even more respect. The loss of the title Cowboy bothered me though, and whenever I came home, all I heard was silence. I had become a bit of a loner in my time alone, most of my communication was done during work, and this had made me want to work more, because when I was alone, all of the memories of the things I had to do, came back to me. It was quite unpleasant, but I justified it as things I had to do; they were all a part of me, and had made me into what I had become.

Of course, I knew the department was made of crooked cops, and I knew the head detective was on the take, but just like many other of the detectives in our unit, I turned my head away and pretended it wasn’t happening. I had stopped taking money off of the top, and stopped taking ‘evidence’ from the evidence room; not so much out of fear of getting caught, or it making me a ‘crooked cop’ but out of a sense of loyalty; I had everything I needed, why be greedy? Why risk getting fired? I only wanted fifteen more good years out of the department, and then I could retire, with honors.

I was sitting at my desk one day, going over a bunch of cases, trying to figure out which one I would take on next; when I saw a drug case. I picked it up and went to my supervisor. I told him that this case would probably end up at the DEA and any detective work we did, would be credited to them. He looked at me with his thick bottle glasses, and said; I picked this one out just for you Heartings, I know how much you like to make a bust, and how much you like to work by yourself. I couldn’t deny either of these things, and I brought it back to my desk, and looked through it with a microscope.

There were two brothers, running separate operations in my town, and I decided to take down the easy one first.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2227607-The-Detective