Ashes to Ashes by Nathaniel Fincham Page B

have to know something, Oscar,” Ashe
spoke, his voice rising again. “I need something!”
    “All I know is that your son is
leaving bodies across town,” Oscar answered, becoming irritated.
“That is all I know. That is all I need to know right now. All you need to know is that your son's face is not plastered
all over the television, right now, even though it damned well
should be.” He pointed to the flat screen mounted on the wall. “We
have kept this close to the vest as a courtesy to you . We
should have his face on the news, on the front page of the papers,
using the public to find him before he runs too far for us to
follow, if that hasn’t already happened by now. But we don't. If
the bodies keep piling up, though, that will no longer be the
case.”
    Ashe didn't know how to respond. What Oscar
said was true.
    “Why are you here, Ashe?” Oscar asked. “I
have to go.”
    Ashe tried to calm himself. “You're going to
call me when you know more?”
    “Yes.”
    “Okay,” Ashe said before continuing. “I
wanted to see if I could get your documents on the Barrett case. I
have another interview this afternoon and I need something to get
him to open up to me. He is putting up a wall.”
    “Not surprised. He wouldn't talk to us
either, except to confess.”
    “In order for me to make a proper assessment,
I need to get something from him,” Ashe replied. “I need to
start honestly thinking about a diagnosis before I am forced to
move on. The powers-that-be are really touchy about this one. I
might not be given a lot of time before they take Mr. Barrett away
from me.”
    “You don't know enough from the media?”
    “I can’t go by what the media says, because I
don’t know what is fact and what is heresy,” he replied.
    “He's crazy. That is my diagnosis.”
    “I'm not so sure, at this time,” Ashe
replied.
    “Why don't you get the court documents?”
    “I requested them the other day, but it will
take another week or so,” Ashe answered. “You were lead detective
and your notes and documents will be detailed and thorough. Your
nothing if not detailed and thorough, Oscar. It should give me what
I need, right now. And you always keep back up physical copies,
instead of relying completely on your computer. I can just grab those .”
    “A week or so, huh?”
    “Yeah,” Ashe replied. “That is fast for them.
It usually takes longer.”
    “Really?”
    “It's just a piece of shit prisoner,” he
began. “What else do they have but time.”
    “True.”
    “I usually don't get into the second
interview so soon, either,” Ashe replied. “But I have a feeling
that if I don’t crack the man’s shell in hurry…I will never get the
chance again.”
    “Sounds likes there is a little more to
it.”
    “Franklin Barrett has me curious,” Ashe
answered. “My curiosity is my biggest sin. Next to lust and greed.”
He gave a hollow laugh.
    “Mine is pride,” Oscar added.
    “So...can I get...?”
    Before Ashe was done speaking, Oscar was
already reaching into a tall file cabinet. Pulling out a thick set
of folders, he handed them over. “This is all you need to know. Do
not lose anything. Do not get coffee stains on anything,
either.”
    “Thanks.”
    “No problem.”
    “Call me.”
    “I will.”
    Oscar scooted out of the office and Ashe
watched him. The little black and gold container was in his pants
pocket. He traced the outline with his fingertips. Gripping tight
the files on Barrett, he went back to the elevator and pushed the
button for the fourth floor.
    On to the next agenda.
     

Chapter 12
     
    Back in the elevator, Ashe didn't go back
down to the main floor but went up two more floors to the fourth
floor, where the forensic labs were.
    The fourth floor was known as the dwelling
of the science trolls , as some of the officers would jokingly
call it. But it was all in good fun. Over the past decade, to say
the least, police work had become a highly co-dependent process,
splicing