The Silent Reporter (A Police Procedural Mystery Series of Crime and Suspense, Hyder Ali #1) (5 page)

“I wish I was that guy,” Nolan gushed. “He’s so handsome.”

Suddenly tears began to flow down his cheeks.

“I’m not him,” he cried loudly.  “I’m
me
.”

“Alright,” Damian came over.  “You’ve had enough.” He grabbed the half empty glass. “Don’t touch it! It’s mine.” Nolan snapped.

“Time for you to go home, Tom,” Damian demanded.

“No, I’m not leaving until I finish my drink!” Nolan yelled back.

“You are going home
now
,” Damian said.

Nolan pulled out his gun. 

Damian jumped back from the glass with his hands up.  “Alright, no need for that.”

“That’s right,” Nolan said.  “I don’t like doing this, but you don’t mess with a man’s drink, got it?”

“Sure, I got it,” Damian said.

Damian glanced over at Boris, who was sitting by the door.  Boris was the owner of the bar and he was six and a half feet tall. 

During the last year Boris and Damian had been through many of Nolan’s drunken outbursts.  They knew he worked for the police department so they cut him some slack.  Plus, they also knew what had made him start drinking in the first place.  So they sympathized with him, too.  But not today.

Boris grabbed a piece of 2x4—which he kept for these very occasions—and slammed it across the back of Nolan’s head.

The gun flew out of Nolan’s hand.  He wobbled before falling to the floor.

Damian calmly walked over and retrieved the gun.  He knew Nolan would come for it when he had sobered up.

Meanwhile, Boris grabbed Nolan by the ankles and dragged him out to the front of the bar.

He left Nolan on the cold pavement.

TWELVE

The rabbi stood at the front and spoke about the life of the deceased.

Hyder was at the funeral for Professor Eric Freeland. He wore a black suit and tie and he had made sure to come early. 

He was glad he did.

The funeral home had become standing room only.  Students, past and present, as well as faculty members from Franklin U were there, along family and friends of the deceased.

When entering the funeral home, Hyder had signed a guestbook and entered a message of condolence for the family.

He spotted an older woman and a younger woman sitting in the front row.  Hyder knew the younger woman was Freeland’s daughter.  He had seen her photos in his office.  The older woman, Hyder assumed, was most likely Freeland’s ex-wife.  Freeland never kept any photos of his ex, and why would he?

Freeland’s daughter was crying hysterically.  Her mother was doing her best to console her.

The rabbi mentioned that he had known Freeland from when they were young.   He provided stories, some funny, and some heartfelt, of their time together growing up.  He then mentioned something that was on the mind of many mourners.  Freeland had committed suicide, a serious sin in the Jewish religion.

When Hyder had heard of Freeland’s death, he was shocked that it was by his own hands.   Freeland, he remembered, would have never done that.  Freeland was too devout in his faith to have committed such a sin.  But Hyder understood that people did anything and everything, even if it was against their beliefs, to end their pain and suffering.

Hyder had found out that Freeland had been depressed and was on medication.  If Hyder had known Freeland was in pain he would have tried to help him.  He didn’t know how, but he would have tried at least.

Contrary to what was reported on the news, suicide was also not permitted in Islam.  Life was a gift from God and no one had the right to take it away except for God. Hyder had had many discussions with Freeland about Islamist suicide bombers and they both had agreed that no God, no matter from what religion, would accept the death of innocent people in his name. 

  The rabbi concluded that although he was disappointed and deeply saddened by the way his friend had chosen to leave this earth he would prefer that everyone remember a man devoted to his family, his friends, and his students.  The rest was up to God to decide.

The rabbi asked Freeland’s daughter to give the eulogy.

Jessica Freeland was beautiful, even in her current state of anguish.  She had long auburn hair and her skin was peppered with freckles.  It was her eyes that were stunning.  They were a bright emerald green.

Jessica spoke about her father, about growing up with him, and about how much he meant to her.  She broke down on several occasions. Hyder didn’t blame her.  She had just lost a parent and it was something Hyder could relate to.

Jessica finished and she was escorted back to her seat.

The rabbi then led the congregation in prayer.  The mourners replied with “Amen” at the appropriate times, which Hyder did as well.

The rabbi concluded the service by providing the time and place of the
shiva
, where close mourners remained at home to receive visitors and also observe the intense period of mourning.

Freeland’s body was then taken to the cemetery. 

Rows of chairs were already placed around the gravesite.  The immediate family took their places with the other mourners standing behind them.

The rabbi performed the ritual and recited several prayers.  And then the casket was lowered into the grave.  The rabbi was the first to perform the
Mitzvah
, placing dirt into the grave.  This was followed by the family members.  Hyder joined the line. When his turn came, he took a shovel full of dirt and placed it into the grave.   He had seen the mourners do it three times, so he did it as well.  He couldn’t help but see the similarities between Judaism and Islam.  In a Muslim funeral, they, too, placed dirt into the grave.

The mourners slowly began to exit.

Hyder was walking toward his Toyota Camry when he heard a voice from behind.

He turned to find Jessica Freeland coming his way. 

She was even more stunning up close.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Hyder immediately said.

“Thank you,” she replied.  “My dad talked a lot about you.”

“He did?” Hyder was surprised.

“Yes,” she said.  “In fact, my dad said if he had a son, he would have wanted him to be just like you.”

Hyder didn’t know what to say.

“Your dad was a good man,” he finally said.  “He taught me a lot.”

Jessica looked toward the car where her mother was waiting for her.  “I have to go,” she said.  “But maybe when the time is right, we could meet for coffee or something.  I would love to hear stories about my dad.”

“I would like that,” Hyder said before they parted. 

He then continued back towards his car, not noticing that a black sedan was parked across from the cemetery gate.

A man sat behind the wheel, watching the mourners leave the cemetery. 

THIRTEEN

He took a sip of the wine, held it in his mouth, and then gulped it down.  It was from an eight-hundred dollar bottle, so it had better taste perfect, he thought. He adjusted the cuffs on his two-thousand dollar suit and leaned back.  He checked the time on his gold RADO watch and grunted. 

He hated having to wait.

Ian Marshall had been raised in privilege.  He had gone to some of the best Ivy League schools in the country.  He lived in a seven million dollar house outside the city. He also owned a two million dollar condo inside the city.

He glanced outside the restaurant at his silver Mercedes Benz.  He noticed a patch of dirt near the front wheels.  Once he returned to the office he’d have one of his assistants take the Benz in for cleaning.

The waiter appeared, asking if he was ready to order.

He was hungry, but he never liked discussing business while he ate.  He found it upset his stomach.  It was better to get it done during the drinks.

He waved the waiter away.

A man entered the restaurant and came straight toward his table.   The man was tall, slim and wore a custom-fitted gray suit.

“Grant, you’re late,” Ian growled.

The man didn’t respond as he took the chair across from Ian.

“Is everything going according to plan?” Ian asked.

“Yes, I’m coming from Freeland’s gravesite.  He won’t be troubling you now.”

“He may not be anymore, but did he leave anything that might?”

“I found nothing in his house.”

“What about a computer, a USB drive, a DVD, anything?”

  “Freeland was paranoid.  He believed in a lot of conspiracy theories.  He thought the government were listening in on everything, so he never owned a computer.”

“What?” Ian was surprised.

“Apparently, Freeland preferred to keep everything in hard copy. He didn’t trust technology. I found a typewriter in his office at the campus. I did, however, find this.”  Grant placed what looked like a diary on the table.

Ian picked it up and flipped through it.  “There are pages missing.”

“Freeland must have torn them out and destroyed them.”

“Or he must have given them to someone,” Ian said quickly.  “Do you think that’s a possibility?”

“Could be.”

“Who?”

Grant shrugged his shoulders.  “Maybe his daughter, but I’m keeping an eye out for anything unusual.  I’ve already started surveillance on her.  If he did trust anyone with the information it would have been her.”

“You think she knows?”

Grant shook his head.  “I don’t think so. She would have passed it on to the authorities by now.”

“What’s in the rest of the diary?” Ian didn’t want to be the one to go through it.

“Nothing important, I’m afraid.  He used it to keep track of his errands, his appointments with students, lectures dates and times, what to buy for dinner, what bills to pay and when.  The rest of it is blank.”

Ian pushed the diary back to Grant, who hid it back in his jacket.

“Is anyone suspicious about his death?” Ian asked.

Again, Grant shrugged his shoulders.  “I don’t know. I made it look like a suicide, but I wouldn’t be too worried, though.”

Ian waited for him.

“Detective Tom Nolan is working on the case,” Grant finally said.

Ian looked confused.  “So?”

“He’s a drunk and a mess.  Last night he was thrown out of a bar for bad behavior.  He won’t look too deep into the case.”

“What if he does?”

“Then I’ll deal with it.”

Ian looked away.  He took a sip of the wine.  He didn’t bother offering it to Grant.  Why waste a good bottle on hired help?

He faced Grant.  “You should have been able to get that information out of Freeland. It would have saved us a lot of trouble.”

“If I had tortured him the authorities would have become suspicious.  Plus, I tried exerting influence.”

“How so?”

“I threatened to harm his daughter, but like I said, he believed everything was a conspiracy.  He was certain even if he gave me the information I would still kill him and harm his daughter.”

“Would you have?” Ian asked, curious.

“Probably.  It depends on what his daughter knows, though. That is why I will keep an eye on her.”

Ian grinned.  “You’re a dangerous man.”

Grant didn’t say anything.

Ian looked at his watch. He was ready to end this meeting and get on with his meal.

“Just make sure every loose end is taken care of.  We are paying you quite a lot of money, got it?”

“Are we done?” Grant asked.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Ian replied, waving him away.

FOURTEEN

Jessica Freeland left her mother’s home and drove back to her apartment.

She couldn’t bring herself to perform
shiva
, which could last seven days.  Naturally, her mother wasn’t too pleased with her, but Jessica didn’t care.

She couldn’t stay inside the house and meet visitors.  They were a constant reminder her that her father was now gone.  This was something she still hadn’t come to terms with. 

She understood that it would be weeks, months, or even years before she fully accepted that her father would no longer be with her.

She stopped the car by the side of the road and cried. 

Her father would never see her graduate.  Jessica was getting her masters in child psychology at George Smith College.

Her father would never walk her down the aisle on her wedding day. Jessica was currently single, but one day she would not be.

Her father would never see his grandchildren.  This deeply hurt her above anything else.

She let all her emotions out.  When she felt a little better she put the car in gear and drove away.

It took her around an hour to reach her building.  She parked in the back and went up.