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Fizbop's Journal


Fizbop's Journal

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1 entry this month
 

Darkwolfman, And Fizbop (rewrite)

04:33 Sep 30 2008
Times Read: 670


The warm summer breeze blew into a window on Fredrick lane and as it traveled in the air it spun the blades of a fan in the corner of the room. The warm air didn’t seem to bother or disturb the man at a desk. The man patted himself down searching for his smokes; he located them in his left pocket as he picked up a match. A quick strike from the bottom of his shoes and the tip of the match burst into flame. He held the match to the end of the smoke and inhaled the toxins. The man shook the match out and threw it into the ash tray. Another puff of smoke he inhaled as he stroked the skin on his chin in deep thought and he looked at the door just waiting for a case. He knew that someone was coming from down the hall because he could hear the footsteps of heals strike the floor. Eagerly he waited for the footsteps to get closer, it wouldn’t be long now. His first case to solve was about to reach the door.


The man heard the footsteps stop right by the door. He turned around in his chair facing the wall. The knob of the door turned oddly slow, the man knew then that it wasn't just his mind playing tricks on him. Turning the event into a nail biting occasion, the door knob continued to turn and the door then creaked open. A female voice called out “Hello, Detective Guzman?”


A deep baritone voice answered her back, “Please have a seat Miss.” Still remaining unseen facing the wall the man couldn’t help but smile. Fate finally had smiled down on him. The Detective still was smoking as the lady sat down. He had heard the chair slide against the floor. The lady then pulled out a smoke for herself and lit and let out a soft sigh. “What seems to be the problem?” He asked as he inhaled his cigarette more.


“The problem I’m having Detective, is my boyfriend was murdered.” She stopped for another minute to hold her tears from flooding out onto her face.


“Why not go to the police and have them take a look into his murder?” Detective Guzman asked pressingly.


“The Police already ruled it to be a suicide, and before you ask why, it’s because he worked for Al Capone.” She said as the agony in her face no longer could hold back the tears.


“Al Capone… I find that very interesting indeed. I’ll tell you what Miss, you come back here around 10:45 pm I’ll have one of my best men put on the assignment. He will meet you here at that time and that time only.” He said as he put his cigarette out.


“Thank you, Mr. Guzman, but I wanted you on the case,” he could hear her sentence structured from an audible whine.


“I thank you for that Miss, but he’s far more qualified to handle anything Capone may dish out. If you know what I mean.” He said knowing fully she knew exactly what he meant.


“I understand, have a pleasant day Mr. Guzman.” The sound of the door imitated from the room as it opened and then closed behind her. Neal turned around in the chair and examined the police report she had left behind. It told him exactly what she had told him about the case. It was filed by a fairly new Detective on the force who went by William Johnson. Neal picked up the rotary phone and called the Detective.


“This is Detective Johnson, can I help you?” the voice on the other end answered.


“Bill just wanted you to know I’m handling the Capone Case fourteen.” Neal stated in a deeper voice.


“Who is this and what’s case fourteen?” Detective Johnson asked in a shocked tone. The person on the other end knew him by first name. He found this to be extremely odd being that he only answered the phone Detective Johnson.


“The Capone Case fourteen you signed off on. Claiming the victim committed suicide when it was apparent from the autopsy that he was shot several times in the chest.” Neal said, as he lit another cigarette.


“I’m still not recalling that case Mister?” Bill asked knowing full well he knew exactly what this mysterious person was talking about.


“Fizbop, remember Bill? The stormy night you got off the late shift and the person you had arrested for the burglary almost killed you.” Fizbop said to Bill.


“Oh my dear god, you are real. I thought I dreamt that night.” Bill said now fully understanding why he had called him Bill.


“It was no dream Bill. You’re the only person in this world that knows what I truly am. I’m calling you to give you a second chance on this case. I know you are more competent then the garbage you wrote on this report.” Fizbop said as he inhaled the cigarette again.


“You don’t realize what I was put through that next day. My supervisor was breathing down my neck to file it exactly as it is. You know the department doesn’t want any heat from Bugs, or Capone.” Bill said in a very low whisper.


“I’m aware of that; it’s time to change that. I know you are better then them Bill. Tonight, I want you here at 10:35 PM., Miss Williams will be here to meet me at 10:45 PM. This is your only chance to prove to me that you are as I believe to be better then them.” The phone clicked and a dial tone sounded in the ear of Detective Johnson. Who was this man only known to him as Fizbop. He tried most to the evening to recall that fateful night.


“I thank you for that Miss, but he’s far more qualified to handle anything Capone may dish out. If you know what I mean.” He said knowing fully she knew exactly what he meant.


“I understand, have a pleasant day Mr. Guzman.” The sound of the door (emanated) from the room as it opened and then closed behind her. Neal turned around in the chair and examined the police report she had left behind. It told him exactly what she had told him about the case. It was filed by a fairly new Detective on the force who went by William Johnson. Neal picked up the rotary phone and called the (detective).


“This is Detective Johnson, can I help you?”


“Bill just wanted you to know I’m handling the Capone Case fourteen.” Neal stated in a deeper voice.


“Who is this and what’s case fourteen?” Detective Johnson asked in a shocked tone. The person on the other end knew him by first name. He found this to be extremely odd being that he only answered the phone Detective Johnson.


“The Capone Case fourteen you signed off on, claiming the victim committed suicide when it was apparent from the autopsy that he was shot several times in the chest.” Neal said, as he lit another cigarette.


“I’m still not recalling that case Mister?” Bill lied knowing full well he knew exactly what this mysterious person was talking about.


“Fizbop, remember Bill? The stormy night you got off the late shift and the person you had arrested for the burglary almost killed you.” Fizbop said to Bill.


“Oh my dear god, you are real. I thought I dreamt it that night.” Bill said now fully understanding why he had called him Bill.


“It was no dream Bill. You’re the only person in this world that knows what I truly am. I’m calling you to give you a second chance on this case. I know you are more competent then the garbage you wrote on this report.” Fizbop said as he inhaled the cigarette again.


“You don’t realize what I was put through that next day. My supervisor was breathing down my neck to file it exactly as it is. You know the department doesn’t want any heat from Bugs, or Capone.” Bill said in a very low whisper.


“I’m aware of that; it’s time to change that. I know you are better than them Bill. Tonight, I want you here at 10:35 PM., Miss Sampson will be here to meet me at 10:45 PM. This is your only chance to prove to me that you are as I believe, better than them.” The phone clicked and a dial tone sounded in the ear of Detective Johnson. Who was this man only known to him as Fizbop. He tried most of the evening to recall that fateful night.


© Fizbop, All rights reserved


COMMENTS

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DarkWolfman
DarkWolfman
04:37 Sep 30 2008

Very good but you posted it twice dude...ha ha ha








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