Poison City

 

“I’m sorry Shrevas.” After coming back to the precinct, the first thing Marcus did was apologize to Detective Pahaik: “I fucked up - I went for a coffee, and - ”

 

“She got out of the cuffs and got away.” Shrevas raised the loose handcuffs up and sighed: “Yeah, I didn’t expect that either. But - let’s just be extra careful next time, okay?”

 

“You got it. It’s totally my fault. It won’t happen next time.” Marcus shook his head, then handed the pieces of files he got back from Gloria: “Here, she tried to take these.”

 

“Case documents?” Shrevas nodded and took the files and spread them up on his desk: “These are from the emergency repairs team.”

 

“What could she possibly want to do with it?” Marcus asked.

 

“Don’t know - but nothing good I assume.” Shrevas sighed: “I think it’s safe to say she came here with the intention to get these files. Maybe she’s one of those gossip columnists or journalists. This case is quite high profile, but Captain has released very limited information to the press. If she really is one of those - then we may see some details in these files hitting the news tomorrow.”

 

“Fuck - that - I’m so sorry.” 

 

“It’s fine, it’s fine, no need to apologize, let’s just tell the Captain, and we can figure something out.”

 

“Let me do it.” Marcus immediately took out his phone: “And I’ll file the report. Leave the mess to me.”

 

“Did she say anything?” Before Marcus dialed the Captain’s number, Shrevas asked after reviewing the remaining content and page numbers on those torn pieces of files.

 

“She mentioned something about it having almost been 15 years.” Marcus shrugged: “She said we should watch out, not just for ourselves. Whatever that means.” Then without saying much else, he proceeded to call Captain Ko, who at this hour should be at home having dinner with his family as per his usual routine.

 

“What, Cai?” Captain Ko’s voice sounded quite clear that he was not very happy with being called at this hour.

 

“Hello Captain, I’m terribly sorry for disturbing you at this hour, but I have something urgent to tell you.”

 

Marcus was already expecting to get yelled at through the phone. But to his surprise, though Captain Ko sounded audibly upset, he did not utter too many harsh words, and just told him to write up a report on what could be leaked and deliver it to his desk first thing in the morning before hanging up.

 

“That was quick. What’d he say?” Shrevas asked Marcus when he came back to his desk.

 

“To write a report on what could be leaked and put it on his desk first thing in the morning.” Marcus shrugged: “I don’t know - it’s weird, normally he’d be furious at things like this. Remember that time an officer misspoke to the press?”

 

“Yeah I remember.” Shrevas nodded: “I think he might be expecting it to be leaked some day. But I don’t know - actually other precincts are expected to start working on this case alongside us as well some time. So I guess he’s planning something on the PR front…”

 

“...okay, ugh.” Marcus shook his head.

 

“Now, before you go home, please, let me know what you think - ” Shrevas hesitated and pointed at some of the torn files on his desk, and apparently he just printed out the full versions of the file: “And again, please, do know that I ask these questions for the sake of the case - ”

 

“It’s about the 15 years stuff right? Go ahead, what is it?” Marcus nodded and cut Shrevas off.

 

“Okay, thank you.” Shrevas sighed: “First off - have you looked into it? Like - like how the ship sank? And what happened to other relatives of those caught in it?”

 

“Yeah, I have. I think - I started looking into it in the second year, maybe a little during the third as well. And the people from the city council must have come to my house 3 or 4 times each year since then, warning me and my father.” Marcus shrugged: “And it’s a surprise to me, to be honest with you, that I could even make detective.”

 

“Okay. That’s kinda expected.” Shrevas nodded, scratching his jaw: “And, do you happen to know any of the relatives who were digging into it?”

 

“You’re thinking this may be some kind of vengeance plot by distraught relatives?” Marcus frowned and asked: “It’s - well, it’s not impossible. The protest at the five year anniversary turned out quite violent. Especially those who live in the South-Eastern District still have those altars and temples of remembrances they fought the city agents and police for.”

 

“Yes, and people in this city have committed horrible atrocities for less.” Shrevas nodded: “The aqua weeds, the water, it all - all kinda point that way. And it’s all very on the nose - it’s like someone was trying to send a message.”

 

“But we still don’t know why.” Marcus pulled the file with the pictures of the aqua weeds and a rotten foot: “And this - we don’t have an explanation for this - did we hear from Dr. Flemmings and Kevin?”

 

“One thing at a time.” Shrevas shook his head: “Now, if I remember correctly, none of the victims had any known enemies that would do something like this, no?”

 

“None but one, one did not show up and missed the oncall.” Marcus nodded: “I will send some officers to double check with him, he might be our only meaningful lead.”

 

“I looked up his name in our database, no priors, no records, a few parking tickets and that’s it. So it is quite unlikely that we will actually find anything there.” Shrevas sighed: “And I fear that if this is indeed someone trying to send a message of some sort, they will do it again.”

 

“Let’s hope it’s not that.” Marcus went to his desk to pick up his jacket: “Let me know if you want me to help with anything else. I’ll need to head back and start working on the report.”

 

“Yeah, just one more question, if you don’t mind.” Shrevas stuck a few sticky notes on the reprinted pages of the case files and looked Marcus directly in the eyes: “You were there, and you were one of the few that survived the incident. Do you by any chance know of any other survivors?”

 

Marcus’ fingers clenched hard before he relaxed them, then he said: “No, I don’t know any. I don’t exactly keep track, you know. I was only about 15 or 16 back then, and I just lost my mother.”

 

“Understood.” Shrevas patted Marcus on the shoulder: “My apologies.”

 

“No problem. See you tomorrow.” Marcus nodded with a tired smile.

 

It was already late, and the pale moon was already reflecting its light onto the whole of Poison City. For some reason, Marcus felt an unnatural sense of chilliness and gloom when he got off the bus. The pedestrians were wearing more clothes than usual, and the streets smelled of fire and ashes. As he checked out a few piles of ashes on the side of the street, he noticed that these were from things made of the same kind of paper people and local clergymen used for making talismans, such as paper coins, paper clothes and paper toys intended as offerings for the dead. They were the signs that people were doing remembrance rituals, presumably of those who lost their lives in the sunken cruise ship in Lake Aqiu.

 

He did not find his father sleeping on the couch when he entered his apartment this time. Instead, he smelled food coming from the kitchen and heard a faint humming.

 

“Dad?” Marcus asked as he entered the kitchen. And right by the second hand dining table sat his father, in his clean gray shirt which he had not worn for years. He looked like he had shaved and cut his hair by himself. And judging by the smell and the plates on the table, it looked like he had cooked as well.

 

“Hey son, welcome back.” Elvin smiled at his son, somewhat nervously pointing at the food on the table: “I hope you're hungry. I made eggs, and stir fried vegetables, just the way you like.”

 

“Thanks … Dad …” Marcus was still in a bit of disbelief when he sat down: “What’s the occasion?”

 

“Oh! Can’t a father just cook for his kid?”

 

“Yes, I appreciate it. Believe me. But you haven’t done it - for years.” Marcus tried not to bring up how long it had been, but the burn marks on the scrambled eggs and the dryness of the vegetables were reminders stark enough.

 

“Yeah, yeah, my bad. My bad.” Elvin seemed at a loss and then he raised his hands with a few red spots and a bandaid: “I guess I haven’t been practicing. Still need some time.”

 

Marcus picked up the chopsticks and put some egg into his mouth - it wasn’t too bad, a little on the bland side, something he remembered his father used to do when he used to cook.

 

“What put you in the cooking mood, Dad?” Marcus nodded in approval and picked up some vegetables: “You know, the street delis surely don’t have these.”

 

“Ha! Questions for later.” Elvin waved his hands: “How’s your day? How’s work?”

 

“You know, same old, same old.” Marcus shrugged: “Working on a few cases here and there, nothing special - ”

 

“I had a dream of your mother earlier.” Elvin interrupted Marcus, with a wide smile on his face.

 

“You dreamed of her?” Marcus was not expecting to hear this.

 

“Yeah! Yeah!” Elvin’s shoulders and arms shook with excitement and nerves: “And - it felt very real, very warm and calming - very - I felt really, really happy.”

 

“Well… That’s good, Dad. ” Marcus chuckled as he walked over to the fridge and opened a bottle of beer for himself: “That’s really good. Great, actually.”

 

“Son, do you mind doing the dishes?” Elvin yawned and stretched as he stood up: “I’m feeling tired, so I’m gonna go to bed early. I don’t think I’ve had a good sleep since - since years ago. Hope I’ll run into your mom again.”

 

“That’s - that sounds good.” Marcus nodded but with an almost invisible frown on his face: “Sweet Dreams.”