The Oceanside Chronicles: Season 6, Episode 2

Oct. 10, 2016
Another child’s body is found; clowns aren’t as big a problem as previously thought, and some theater crashers learn an ugly lesson.

All characters and places in this series are fictional.  Any resemblance they bear to actual people or places is purely coincidental.

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“I just don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing this,” said Detective Lieutenant Andrea “Andi” DeSalis.

“That’s probably a good thing,” replied Detective Lieutenant Richard “Dick” Coleman.  “If you reach a point where seeing a dead child doesn’t affect you in some way, it’s time to find a new line of work.”

Andi nodded her head, not even thinking about the fact that Coleman couldn’t see her.  They were both looking at the body of a small boy.  There had been a missing person’s report filed the day before and both detectives suspected they were looking at the missing eight year old. Coleman was on the scene because he was the on-call homicide detective and the patrol officers who had first responded felt it was a homicide. The slit throat was their first clue.  After Coleman had arrived, he’d contacted Andi and her partner, Detective Sergeant Jacob “Mac” MacGreger, because of the victim’s age and the potentially related crimes Andi and Mac were investigating.  This child made the third juvenile victim in as many weeks.  While they had no way of knowing, yet, if the child had indeed been kidnapped and molested, if the autopsy and further investigation revealed those facts about the case, this would be the third in a string of children who had been kidnapped, molested and then murdered.  This one would have been on a much faster time frame though. The first two had both been killed almost a week after they’d disappeared; disappearances later revealed to be kidnappings.  This child had just been reported missing the day before.

While Andi and Mac went about their business of documenting the crime scene and coordinating with Bert and Ernie, the agency’s primary forensic evidence team, Coleman stepped back out of the way.  He didn’t leave the scene immediately. He wanted to wait and see if there was any way he could assist Andi and Mac.  While Coleman still had his own caseload and plenty of work around it, these child murders hit every officer hard and if there was anything he could do to assist in capturing whatever sicko was committing these crimes, Coleman would do it.

Of course, he had his own case that was sick enough as well.  Lt. Griggs of the Coast Guard’s Criminal Investigative Service was keeping him in the loop on a series of murders that were apparently being committed either on the water or along the east coast and now that series of murders had taken on a cannibalistic flavor.  “Pardon the pun,” Lt. Griggs had said, chuckling at his own twisted sense of humor.  Coleman had chuckled as well; both men protecting themselves from the potentially permanent emotional impact of dealing with such heinous crimes day in and day out.  While Lt. Griggs’ case covered a much larger jurisdictional area, he was keeping Coleman informed as a matter of courtesy and efficiency.  Coleman had a great deal more experience in homicide investigations and Griggs was not above tapping the intuition and observations of a seasoned investigator if it helped close the case sooner.

All of that ran through Coleman’s mind as he stood back out of the way, watching Ernie mark and document potential items of evidence while Bert walked around taking pictures from every angle both close up and at a distance.  Coleman wondered how these two men dealt with the stress of the job.  Sure, Ernie wasn’t sworn and might be slightly more disconnected from it, but even still – seeing the after effects of such crimes had to be hurtful.  What did they do to relieve that stress? Find support? Stay functional and not developing or suffering from PTSD?

Andi and Mac didn’t really have a lot to do after their original response to the scene.  They made their observations to each other, held a brief conversation in a low voice and then did their best to stay out of Bert and Ernie’s way as well.  They made comments about what they’d like to insure was documented or photographed and they discussed what was or wasn’t evidence with Ernie.  Ultimately, if there was any question, an item was tagged and bagged as evidence. It could always be discarded later if unnecessary to the case.

It was nearly two hours later when Andi and Mac were leaving the scene.  They had watched as the lifeless body of the child had been lifted from the dumpster where it had been found.  Very little bruising showed on the exposed skin but the site of the wide gash in the small throat was like a canyon in the desert.  It spoke of a cold and brutal method of dispatch and neither officer liked to think about what the child must have been feeling; the emotions the little one had experienced.  In their minds, the last hours of this child must have been hell on earth and each prayed that the child’s spirit now knew peace in heaven.  They also both felt that if there was any justice at all, the murderer would most certainly spend an eternity in hell.

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Parole officer Darrel Porchinski liked his job; that didn’t mean he had to like all those he kept track of.  As a parole officer his job was primarily to keep track of convicted criminals who had been let out of prison before their full sentence had been served, or who had extra supervised time outside of prison as part of their prison sentence.  In this case, his “client,” Lawrence “Larry” Murphy was the first case.  He’d served about two-thirds of his prison sentence for armed robbery and was now on parole for the remainder.  While on parole, Larry was required to get a job, stay out of trouble, and check in with his parole officer every other week.

Porchinski liked the fact that two of Larry’s brothers were police officers.  Jerry, the older brother and retired Lieutenant from Oceanside police department was a no-bullshit, don’t joke, get the job done and deal with reality kind of guy.  He spent as little time as possible dealing with Larry but in that small time spent he focused on keeping Larry in line.  Larry’s youngest brother, Kevin, was also a police officer, recently switched to Oceanside police department from another local agency.  From what Porchinski could tell, Kevin did his best to avoid Larry, but if they had to be face to face, Kevin didn’t pull his punches any more than Jerry did.  Larry was a convicted criminal.  He’d served his time but he had a long way to go to prove to society that he was indeed productive and not a threat anymore.

With all that on his mind, Porchinski looked at the clock on his wall. The office was nothing more than a painted cinderblock cell to his way of thinking.  No, there were no bars on the two windows, but he was three stories up in a state building that had been built as administrative offices for the prison system.  Beneath the windows, three stories down, was concrete.  The door to the office was a steel door set into a steel frame with a two-inch dead bolt affixed in the middle.  The knob had no lock.  There was a slide bolt at the top of the door if additional security was required by the occupant of the office.  All of the furniture was state industrial motif: the black and gray metal desk, gray poorly padded steel chair, two sets of gray steel shelves and one set of gray steel file cabinets.  Porchinski didn’t have any pictures on the walls; no family photos on his desk.  He preferred for the criminals he supervised not to have any idea of his personal life; whether or not he was married (not); whether or not he had any children (1); or even what he felt was nice to look at.  The more anonymous he was, the more secure he felt.

Larry Murphy walked into that office five minutes late for his appointment.  “I’m sorry, Mr. Porchinski,” were his first words. “The bus was running behind and I couldn’t get anyone to give me a ride.” He walked over to Porchinski’s desk and reached over, extending his hand for a courteous handshake.  Porchinski stood and accepted the hand, noting Larry’s strong but not overbearing grip, and resisting Larry’s mild attempt to turn the handshake, to put Porchinski’s hand on the bottom.  It was a psychological domination move many criminals learned in prison and one Porchinski maintained an awareness of.  Larry smiled when he felt the resistance and knew that the parole officer was aware of his attempts in subliminal domination.  “Sorry about that, sir,” Larry said, thereby admitting his knowledge and intent.  “My brothers don’t let me get away with it either. It’s just habit.”

“No harm, no foul,” replied Porchinski letting go of the convict’s hand and gesturing him to have a seat.  “Tell me what’s going on with your life outside.”  “Outside” meant outside of prison.  The use of the word did two things: first, it reminded Larry that the reason he was here was because he was a convicted criminal. That wasn’t always a necessary reminder, but Porchinski liked to start the meetings off without any flowery illusions. Second, it reminded Larry that while he was on parole, it was easy for Porchinski to put him back “inside,” and if Larry didn’t want that, he’d work hard to avoid giving the parole agent cause to take such action.

As Larry took his seat, he began his litany of what had become his habitual response. “I’m still working at the job my brother, Rick, got me at the marina.  I’m not a big fan of scraping barnacles and bottom painting boats, but it’s work and I have to have a job.”  His tone of voice made it clear that he’d rather NOT have to work, but he understood that he had to or his parole would be violated and he’d end up back in prison.  What concerned Porchinski about this outlook was that once Larry was off parole, there’d be nothing to motivate him to keep on working, and then what?

Larry continued.  “I’m probably going to be moving soon into an apartment and out of my other brother, Stan’s, basement.  He’s been nice enough to let me room there but it’s obvious his wife doesn’t like me and he gives me grief if I’m out too late.”

“Do you stay out ‘too late’ very often?” asked Prochinski.  Larry didn’t have a curfew per se, but he was encouraged to live a life of control and structure. That didn’t usually involve staying out late which most often occurred in bars and led to undesirable behavior for the convict.

“Not really,” replied Larry.  “And when I say ‘too late’ it’s different than what you think it means.”

“What do you think I think it means?” asked Porchinski.

“When I say ‘too late’,” replied Larry, “I mean like nine or ten o’clock. You mean midnight or later.”  Porchinski just nodded.  Close enough, he thought. Nothing to haggle about.  Larry went on. “But if I come home after eight at night, either Stan or his wife gives me grief and… I mean… I know they’re doing me a favor letting me live there so I could bank some money and get on my feet, but I’m a grown man and I don’t really like being treated like that.”

Porchinski let that hang for a moment before speaking. “Do you think they treat you like that out of meanness or disrespect?”  He was hoping Larry could see that his brother and sister-in-law were actually expressing their concern for him and his developing future. If not, it was another indicator that life after parole might go south quickly for Larry.

“I don’t know,” replied Larry after a moment.  “Sometimes I feel like they just don’t want the inconvenience of any noise I might make. I mean, I get that everyone thinks I need to live like a monk to prove I’m rehabilitated and all, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to give up everything enjoyable about life to do it.”

“What is enjoyable about life for you?” asked Porchinski.  Larry had, after all, opened the door to the topic.

Larry thought about that and was careful to filter what he said. “I like hanging out with some of my friends.  Some of the people I went to school with… grew up with… they aren’t so uptight about me being a con. Some of them have records themselves, although maybe not as serious as mine. They’re not as judgmental. And being able to just hang out, drink a beer or two and talk… it’s more fun than being home in my room watching whatever’s on television. I mean… that starts to feel too much like my cell if I’m there for too long, ya’ know?”

Porchinski nodded even though he had no idea what it felt like to live in a cell.  That was for criminals, he thought. They earned their stay in the cell.  “Okay,” he said.  “Well, when you move, make sure you let me know; preferably before you move if you have the address and your move in date, okay?”  Larry nodded.  Porchinski moved the conversation on. “So what else is going on in your day? Life? World?  Do you have anything you want to talk about?”

“Not really, so much,” replied Larry. “There’s an awful lot going on if you watch television; a lot that’s just stupid, but I try not to watch it and I make sure I stay away from it when I’m out or at work.” He paused and laughed a bit. “But if one of the clowns everyone is seeing seems to come at me, he’s certainly going to hate life…” He paused, breathed and then went on, “and if I get my hands on whoever is killing these kids the police are finding around the city… that fucker better say his prayers.”

“Larry,” said Porchinski quietly, “I detest such crimes and criminals as much as you do, but threatening to commit a crime to punish them outside of our legal system is not acceptable for a man in your position.  Do you understand?”

“I understand what you’re sayin’,” Larry replied, “but you need to understand… I don’t really care.  Even inside we had no respect for criminals who prey on kids. They were lucky if they ever saw the outside again.  That part of me ain’t goin’ away. I don’t know what kind of man you are… and I know you don’t think much of me. But I’m not the kind of man who can just walk away if I know I’ve got hold of a guy who has been kidnapping, raping and killing kids.  He ain’t going to walk away.”  He paused again, thought and then made sure he was looking Officer Porchinski right in the eyes before he went on. “And if that means I have to go back inside… because I removed some asshole like that from society…  I can live with that. Hell, it’s a better reason than what I was in for before.”

Porchinski thought about that. How to respond? He couldn’t encourage such an outlook. He had to say something to try to quiet that outlook. But he agreed with Larry 100% and it wouldn’t bother him in the least if Larry neutralized a threat like that.  “Just keep your head on straight,” he finally said. “You’re doing well and making progress.  Our goal is to get you successfully off parole and free to live your life again. That can’t happen if you express violent desires.”

The two men looked at each other, both trying to see into the others’ soul.  It didn’t work but they mutually understood the situation.  “I’ll do the best I can,” Larry said.  “We done?”

“Yes, we are,” said Porchinski, standing up from behind his desk and extending his hand. “Thanks for getting in to see me and keep up the good work. Stay focused.”

“Yep,” acknowledged Larry.  “I’ll keep on keepin’ on. See you in two weeks.”  Their handshake was very brief and then Larry was out the door in a hurry.  Porchinski was honest enough with himself to realize he was happy to see the man go.

- - - - - - - - - - -

With the way rotating schedules work, it was a rarity that Max and JP had a weekend off together.  Since Eddie and Max worked the same schedule, the evening off provided an excellent opportunity for Max and JP to go out with Eddie and his wife, Anne.  The men had decided to spoil the women with a nice dinner at one of the city’s higher end seafood restaurants, right on the water, and then – as a special treat – they took their ladies to see the latest ‘chick flick’ that had just opened at the newest theaters in town.

The dinner had passed delightfully and Anne restricted herself to two glasses of wine with the shrimp dish she had.  Both Eddie and Max had enjoyed broiled lobster tails while JP had cleaned her plate of the crab cakes with a side of twice baked potatoes that she’d ordered. Eddie had enjoyed a single glass of wine but both Max and JP had stuck with iced tea.  Anne voiced her surprise that Eddie had consumed even a single glass of wine because she knew all too well that he was carrying his gun.  It was one of the rules of his life that she had accepted: he never left home without a gun.  He had several and qualified with all of them. He carried whatever was easiest to conceal depending on what he was wearing at the time.

After dinner, they all headed to the theater where JP surprised heck out of Max by getting a box of chocolate chip cookie dough bites.  It was so out of character for JP, who normally ate VERY clean and focused on fitness near as much as Max did, that he didn’t know how to react.  JP was helpful as she said, “Just pay for it and enjoy the sugar rush I’ll have later.”  He obliged without hesitation.

While Eddie, Max and JP would always like to sit in a public place with their backs to a wall and a clear view of all the entrances / exits, movie theaters made this especially difficult.  They all three agreed that sitting all the way in the back row – in this case, in the very top row at the back of the stadium style seating theater – made for a less than comfortable view of the movie.  By sitting in any other row, they accepted that someone might sit behind them. They also liked to sit at the end of any given row so that they could get to the walkways / aisles with relative ease rather than being trapped in the middle of the theater crowd.

In this case, their compromise was to sit a few rows up from the entrance level, on the right end of the row they selected.  As people walked up the stairs past them, they all three examined them with a practiced eye.  Two more police officers came in that Max recognized and several dozen military personnel.  From the end of the row they had sat Max, JP, Eddie and then Anne.  Anne had also accepted that when she was out enjoying social functions with her husband and any other police officer(s), there would be conversation that she either had no interest in or didn’t understand all the language of.  Sure, she’d been married to Eddie for a long time but she’d still never been a police officer and that did make a little bit of a difference; enough that she didn’t like being in the middle of the discussions.  From their seating position, Eddie, Max and JP could all see the EXIT door that was actually at the front of the theater, down and right of the screen.

Having arrived about twenty minutes early, they were in their seats, nibbling various snacks when they saw one of the movie attendants come into the theater, go to the exit door, push it open, look around on the other side and then pull it shut. The theater darkened at about a quarter til the hour and the lights dimmed somewhat and previews begin to be shown.  About ten til the hour, the theater attendant came back in, push the exit door open, looked around and then let the door fall shut… but not quite all the way.  Max had been watching, not realizing that Eddie was doing the same thing. Both had one thing on their mind: the Aurora, Colorado theater active shooter event.  Max watched the attendant turn and leave the theater without pulling the exit door all the way shut.  Max looked over at Eddie and they both started to get up.  JP had noticed the same thing but didn’t move other than to move a seat closer to Anne.  If something was going to go sideways, she’d get Anne out safe and sound.

The lights went down a bit more just as Eddie and Max approached the exit door.  As Eddie was reaching out to pull it all the way shut, someone pulled it open more from the other side. The someone was holding something but the lighting made it hard for Eddie or Max to see what it was.  Thanks to the brightness of the theater screen just up to their left, the brightness of the area behind the exit door and the darkness of the theater itself, Eddie and Max were effectively looking at a silhouette.  As Eddie reached for his gun, Max did the same, but he plowed forward into the exit door as he did so. The door opened out so it moved away easily under the weight of Max’s shoulder and whole body moment as he rammed the door.  The door hit the one guy that they could see but they heard a grunting noise as it ran into someone else that was still behind it as well.

As both officers moved through the doorway, JP was up and moving with Anne.  The rest of the audience seemed slightly taken aback but not really sure what was going on. Behind her, from farther up in the seating area, JP heard people moving. She wasn’t sure if it was the other officers who had come in or the military personnel… but she knew she wasn’t as worried about them at that moment as she was getting Anne out of the theater – just in case.

The emergency exit door had started to fall closed behind Max and Eddie, and they found themselves in a brightly lit hallway facing three very surprised looking young men. Each of them had a paper bag in their hand; about the size of a lunch bag. Still not sure what was in the bags and mindful of potential threat, Eddie ordered them all to drop the bags and get against the far wall.  Eddie was patting the second one down by the time the other off duty cops came out through the exit door from the theater – with the theater manager right behind them.

About fifteen minutes later they had ascertained that the three young men were simply trying to sneak into the theater with the help of their friend, the theater attendant who had come and opened the door for them.  Having looked down the barrels of both Eddie’s and Max’s guns, the young men had learned a lesson they’d not likely soon forget. After they were all identified and checked negative for open warrants, they were sent on their way.  The theater manager fired the attendant who had opened the door for them on the spot.  Then she thanked Eddie and Max for being so alert and gave them passes for four to the same movie, good for as long as it was showing at that set of theaters. She felt bad that Anne and JP had missed what she called, “a hellaciously good flick.”

During the drive home, Eddie apologized to Anne for not having been able to enjoy the movie.  She said it was no big deal. She’d rather them have been alert and miss the movie, this time, than the possible other option of an active shooter coming in to attack the theater.  Better safe than sorry was her outlook.

In the back seat, JP was once again nibbling on her chocolate chip cookie dough bites.  When Max saw her and caught her eye, she winked and grinned.  Apparently, she was still looking forward to him being able to take advantage of the sugar rush she’d enjoy when they got back to his place.

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