'79 challenge
Jul. 1st, 2003 02:15 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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ds_flashfictionLet me preface this by saying that I know very little about police procedure and I couldn't remember the Vecchio's exact address, but this is what came into my head and I wanted to get it posted. Anyway, here it is, my response to the Summer of '79 challenge. 991 words.
Domestic
by JennyB.
“Officers in the vicinity of 2921 North Octavia. We got a domestic in progress. Repeat. Officers in the vicinity of 2921 North Octavia. Domestic in progress.”
I picked up the radio mike in my cruiser and responded to the call. I was only two blocks away.
“Officer Welsh, badge CP2242 responding. ETA two minutes.”
“Roger, CP2242.”
I was technically off duty, but I hadn’t called it in yet. I’d just dropped my partner off at home and was headed home myself, but I was so close. I could at least see what I could do.
As I walked up the steps to the front porch, I could hear yelling and screaming from inside. I wasn’t sure if the call had come from inside the house even though I suspected as much, but the noise was enough that I could bluff my way through about why I was here.
I knocked with my left hand, my right hand resting on my billy club. The noise on the other side stopped and a minute later a sour looking guy about my age with thinning dark brown hair answered the door.
“Yeah? What do you want?”
My grip tightened on the stick handle while I tried to be polite. “I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but I had a call from someone in the neighborhood about the noise. It’s after 10pm and there’s a city ordinance against a certain level of noise after that time.” I looked past the guy into the front hallway and saw a small, dark-haired woman clutching her bathrobe closed at her throat under her tear-streaked face. I couldn’t see any bruises or other marks in the poor light, but that didn’t mean they weren't there.
The guy saw me looking past him and got all apologetic. “Yeah, well, me and the wife were having a little disagreement. That’s all. You know us Italians; we’re always loud.” He let out a sleazy, slurpy little laugh and shrugged his shoulders and bobbed his head.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” I called to the figure in the hallway. She nodded frantically and assured me she was fine. Without some probable cause or a witness present who was willing to give me some probable cause, my hands were tied. I really couldn’t do anything. “Well, then, if you wouldn’t mind keeping it to a dull roar so as not to bother the neighbors, I’ll leave you alone.”
The toady looked me straight in the eye then, and I gave him a look back that told him I’d seen through his bullshit and I knew exactly what was going on. His dark eyes narrowed at me and without a word he shut the door in my face.
Bastard. I didn’t give a shit if he thought it wasn’t my business what went on behind that door. If he was hurting his wife or his kids, it damn well was my business.
I sighed and trudged down the front steps. I’d seen it way too many times before. Scratching my head, I noticed a shadow at the front corner of the house. A tall, skinny shadow.
“Hey, kid,” I called quietly. “You the one that called?”
A young guy probably around eighteen moved a couple of steps towards me but stayed in the shadows, hands in the pockets of his not-quite-stylish jeans.
“Please don’t tell my Pop,” he requested just as quietly. “He just got out of hand tonight and I get tired of it, you know? If he knew I called, he’d probably beat the crap out of me.”
“You eighteen?”
“Yeah. Birthday was last week.”
“You could charge him with assault. You’re an adult now.”
Dark eyes looked past me into the distance. “He’s my Pop.”
I understood where the kid was coming from; in fact it hit a little too close to home.
“You got plans after high school?”
The kid shrugged. “Got tuition together for a junior college. Don’t know if I’ll go.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a card. “Take this. Give me a call if you want to talk about jobs.”
He took the card and looked at me kind of amazed. “You mean being a cop?”
“Yeah. Think about it. It’s not a bad job. Steady pay, good guys to work with, something to be proud of.”
He snorted at me. “You know this neighborhood, man? The Zukos got it all tied up. What’ll they say of someone from their neighborhood defects?”
“You work for them?”
“Me? Hell no. I’m not stupid.”
“Well, then, they got nothin’ to say about it. Remember, kid, this is your neighborhood, too.” The kid nodded at me and I could see a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Hey, what’s your name, kid?”
“Ray. Ray Vecchio.”
“Well, Vecchio, you think about it and you give me a call if you want to talk. That’s not just bullshit. You want to talk, I’ll listen.”
“Thanks, sir.”
I put out my hand and he took it and we shook on it. It felt like a bargain and I was going to make damn sure I kept my part.
When I got in my car, I watched while Ray went to the side of the house and shimmied up a trellis that had seen better days. He must’ve snuck out to call from a pay phone. Brave kid.
I picked up the radio and called in. “CP2242 reporting on domestic call at 2921 North Octavia.”
“Go ahead, CP2242.”
“A lot of noise, but nothing sufficient for further investigation.”
“Thank you, CP2242. I’ll note it in the log.”
“I’ll do the report in the morning. I’m off the clock.” Just as the mike was almost back in the cradle, I lifted it to my mouth again. “Hey, Margery?”
“Yeah, Harding?”
“If you get any more calls for that address, could you let me know?”
“Will do.”
“Thanks, Margery. CP2242 out.”
Domestic
by JennyB.
“Officers in the vicinity of 2921 North Octavia. We got a domestic in progress. Repeat. Officers in the vicinity of 2921 North Octavia. Domestic in progress.”
I picked up the radio mike in my cruiser and responded to the call. I was only two blocks away.
“Officer Welsh, badge CP2242 responding. ETA two minutes.”
“Roger, CP2242.”
I was technically off duty, but I hadn’t called it in yet. I’d just dropped my partner off at home and was headed home myself, but I was so close. I could at least see what I could do.
As I walked up the steps to the front porch, I could hear yelling and screaming from inside. I wasn’t sure if the call had come from inside the house even though I suspected as much, but the noise was enough that I could bluff my way through about why I was here.
I knocked with my left hand, my right hand resting on my billy club. The noise on the other side stopped and a minute later a sour looking guy about my age with thinning dark brown hair answered the door.
“Yeah? What do you want?”
My grip tightened on the stick handle while I tried to be polite. “I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but I had a call from someone in the neighborhood about the noise. It’s after 10pm and there’s a city ordinance against a certain level of noise after that time.” I looked past the guy into the front hallway and saw a small, dark-haired woman clutching her bathrobe closed at her throat under her tear-streaked face. I couldn’t see any bruises or other marks in the poor light, but that didn’t mean they weren't there.
The guy saw me looking past him and got all apologetic. “Yeah, well, me and the wife were having a little disagreement. That’s all. You know us Italians; we’re always loud.” He let out a sleazy, slurpy little laugh and shrugged his shoulders and bobbed his head.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” I called to the figure in the hallway. She nodded frantically and assured me she was fine. Without some probable cause or a witness present who was willing to give me some probable cause, my hands were tied. I really couldn’t do anything. “Well, then, if you wouldn’t mind keeping it to a dull roar so as not to bother the neighbors, I’ll leave you alone.”
The toady looked me straight in the eye then, and I gave him a look back that told him I’d seen through his bullshit and I knew exactly what was going on. His dark eyes narrowed at me and without a word he shut the door in my face.
Bastard. I didn’t give a shit if he thought it wasn’t my business what went on behind that door. If he was hurting his wife or his kids, it damn well was my business.
I sighed and trudged down the front steps. I’d seen it way too many times before. Scratching my head, I noticed a shadow at the front corner of the house. A tall, skinny shadow.
“Hey, kid,” I called quietly. “You the one that called?”
A young guy probably around eighteen moved a couple of steps towards me but stayed in the shadows, hands in the pockets of his not-quite-stylish jeans.
“Please don’t tell my Pop,” he requested just as quietly. “He just got out of hand tonight and I get tired of it, you know? If he knew I called, he’d probably beat the crap out of me.”
“You eighteen?”
“Yeah. Birthday was last week.”
“You could charge him with assault. You’re an adult now.”
Dark eyes looked past me into the distance. “He’s my Pop.”
I understood where the kid was coming from; in fact it hit a little too close to home.
“You got plans after high school?”
The kid shrugged. “Got tuition together for a junior college. Don’t know if I’ll go.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a card. “Take this. Give me a call if you want to talk about jobs.”
He took the card and looked at me kind of amazed. “You mean being a cop?”
“Yeah. Think about it. It’s not a bad job. Steady pay, good guys to work with, something to be proud of.”
He snorted at me. “You know this neighborhood, man? The Zukos got it all tied up. What’ll they say of someone from their neighborhood defects?”
“You work for them?”
“Me? Hell no. I’m not stupid.”
“Well, then, they got nothin’ to say about it. Remember, kid, this is your neighborhood, too.” The kid nodded at me and I could see a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Hey, what’s your name, kid?”
“Ray. Ray Vecchio.”
“Well, Vecchio, you think about it and you give me a call if you want to talk. That’s not just bullshit. You want to talk, I’ll listen.”
“Thanks, sir.”
I put out my hand and he took it and we shook on it. It felt like a bargain and I was going to make damn sure I kept my part.
When I got in my car, I watched while Ray went to the side of the house and shimmied up a trellis that had seen better days. He must’ve snuck out to call from a pay phone. Brave kid.
I picked up the radio and called in. “CP2242 reporting on domestic call at 2921 North Octavia.”
“Go ahead, CP2242.”
“A lot of noise, but nothing sufficient for further investigation.”
“Thank you, CP2242. I’ll note it in the log.”
“I’ll do the report in the morning. I’m off the clock.” Just as the mike was almost back in the cradle, I lifted it to my mouth again. “Hey, Margery?”
“Yeah, Harding?”
“If you get any more calls for that address, could you let me know?”
“Will do.”
“Thanks, Margery. CP2242 out.”
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no subject
Date: 2003-07-01 02:35 pm (UTC)I love this: . Scratching my head, I noticed a shadow at the front corner of the house. A tall, skinny shadow. I can just picture him.
Nice work!
no subject
Date: 2003-07-01 02:47 pm (UTC)You have the two of them bang-on, in voice and manner. It's fabulous to see these younger versions of the characters we know so well.
no subject
Date: 2003-07-01 05:15 pm (UTC)Welsh and Ray
Date: 2003-07-01 05:33 pm (UTC)It's a nice change of pace; I've seen a fair number of 'Ray K is inspired by Welsh' stories, but nothing on how Vecchio got in the biz. This really worked for me.
no subject
Date: 2003-07-02 05:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-03 06:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-03 10:55 am (UTC)