Late 1920’s
1.
Police Clerk
The backwater roads were hardly used in those
days, when the law took overly concern on it for bootlegging activities. The
law kept most of their men there; patrolling the roads, maintaining roadblocks
and manning the intersections. It was these diversions that made the law in the
needed areas became a concern of the communities. The criminal cases have
escalated but the new Police Chief had directed that the records be wiped out
to avoid the pressure from the sponsors to his re-election as Chief. It was
then, I was the Police Clerk in the same precinct; a paying job with a secure
future while all I do was sit behind the desk to file reports.
Or in some cases, trashed the ones he does not
want to be filed.
I read the latest ones that arrived on my
table. It was a set of murders in downtown. Someone from the organized crime
had just done a heinous crime. There were three victims; a male and two ladies.
They were all shot with shotgun, with
multiple wounds each. It would have been ignored but there were two police
officers along with the witness. The witness was to appear on the trail of a
mobster who was sloppy in the killing.
“Hi Sal, are we on for the dinner tonight?”
That was hard cased Detective Nolan Price, who had just sailed towards my desk.
Nolan was all muscles and tall in the imitation striped suit favored by the
mobsters. It was a gray flannel double breasted suit with matching pants. His
shoes was dark brown leather while the fedora was black over his balding scalp.
He had been in that precinct for over ten years, after a stint of five doing
the street beat. He moved up due to his brutal attitude towards the ones he
caught. The Commissioner was all for him as long as he does not let the press
picked up on his doing. He had married twice and divorced, and then was
planning on making me his number three on the list.
“I would need to do a rain check, Nolan. My…”
I feigned an excuse while adjusting my round rimmed glasses perched on the
bridge of my nose.
“I know, Sal. Your Mama is in town. I wondered
when you would ever invite me over.” Nolan leaned over my desk to get his view
down my blouse. I was used to it, and gave him an eyeful on occasions. That
morning, he won’t get my much with the neck high vest I wore beneath my dark blue
uniformed blouse but I left him to imagine his way into it.
“Gangway for the Trasher.” The voice bellowed
from the rear of Nolan. He stepped back and gave me a slight bow before moving
back to his desk.
“Another full basket.” I smiled at Patricia
who was the cleaner in the Precinct. She was into her work dressing; the
shapeless overall with the rubber boots. She resembled more like a working lady
on the production line then a cleaner. Major part of her tasks was to pick up
our trash cans or whatever we discarded on the floor. I always felt guilty
having mine overflowed with my poor typing and bundles of memo. She was smiling
and then laughed with her hand over the mouth.
“Sorry, Pat. I promised not to spill it over.”
I laughed with her. I reached down to help her clear it and placed it into the
can.
“Don’t be Sal.” Sal was my nickname. “Let me
clear that for you. If there would be any spill over, it will be Nolan’s
saliva. He’s all over you, and your tits.”
I smiled at Patricia for her reference to my perky
set of flesh. I had seen it myself on the mirrors. I loved my side view with
the cantaloupe design that perked up. For the unwanted audience I had it all
braced up with the new wired bra and wrapped in a tight vest.
“Pat!’ I mimic the sound of a squeaky clean
girl being told her panty lines were seen while I pushed my chest forward. Patricia
laughed at my antics.
“Oh! Not that I am competing for yours. I got
my own bull blossomed apples on my own.” Pat paraded to the front of my desk with her chest strained
against the overall. She was past my age group and was without any family was
what I knew then.
“When would you ever get Nolan to bury his ego
inside you?” Pat asked me with a mocking tone while she stretched up her frame
upright before me. She had done up her frame in a sexy pose. “He must be tired with his own ministration.”
I covered my laugh while Pat bellowed on.
“I wonder he does that himself or get some
perverts on the beat to do him.” Pat blinked her eyes towards me. She had told
that she disliked Nolan for his brutal attitude. She knew of his acts in the
cells to extract a confession of anyone. Once she had her cousin in and had to
compromise with Nolan for his kindness. She had regretted it since then. When
she had the chance, she made sure her voice could be heard by the other section
on her displeasure.
“C’mon Pat, be charitable. You could just laid
down and have yourself a merry time. He ain’t that bad looking.” I mocked at the
cleaner.
“Me? Pardon me but my broom handle would
suffice for my needs.” Pat replied before she paraded off with her hips rolling
side to side. I had a good laugh at the walk and looked over to Nolan. He was
buried in his works or pretending to ignore us with our ladies gossips.
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