Snatched…unedited, incomplete…

Ashley reached in her leather computer bag and took out two files. Both were roughly two inches thick. 

“These two officers are what we would consider ‘habitual offenders.’” Both men have complaints for excessive force.”

“Why are they still on the force if they’re such bad eggs, Ashley?”

“Their union reps and attorneys keep them from getting fired. “

“So, who are they?”

Ashley handed him a file. Konan cracked it open and looked over the photo. Ashley pointed at the image.

“That’s Charles Bronowski.  He got on the force in 1991. You’ll notice there are several instances where he has worked over suspects.  Bronowski calls it ‘tuning up the cons.’ Plus, he has several incidents where he used derogatory language, specifically, racist language. So…”

“Cons? Convicts?”

“No, as far as we can tell ‘cons’ only apply to people of color.”

“Wow. He’s made it known he isn’t a fan of non-whites.”

“It gets worse,” Ashley said handing him another folder. “This is his partner, Jackson Titus.”  

“Oh? Another racist?”

“Oh yeah. He came from way down the holler. Jackson is violent, mean, and he failed the psychological exam, but they hired him anyway.”


“He knew somebody or had something on that somebody. No one knows for certain. All we know now is that he has access to a top-tier attorney, and he’s not afraid to use her.”

Konan closed the files and laid them on his coffee table. 

“Thanks, Ashley. I don’t know how I can use this. We haven’t turned up any evidence that could link them to the crime.”

“Well, what do you know?”

“I just came from the homeless camp by the warehouse district. They called them white devils, one of the homeless told me they drove a blue van.”

“Jackson drives a blue van. That should give you enough room to ask a few questions.”

“That’s all we need. Thanks again, Lt. Davis.”

Ashley leaned over and gave Konan a peck on the cheek. Konan tried to suppress his grin. He failed.

“It’s Ashley when it’s just the two of us. Get some rest, you look old when you’re tired.”

“Well, you’re as pretty as the day God molded you.”

Ashley winked at him and wrinkled up her nose at him playfully and said, “it’s called clean living, Konan. You should try it sometime.”

“I will. Be careful headed home. Text me and let me know you made it.”

“Will do, dad.”

Konan chuckled and watched Ashley get in the car. He stood there until her taillights vanished. He let out a heavy sigh and shut his door. Ashley had given him two leads, and hopefully they would not have to do much to hang these racist cops. 

After what happened to Bradley Freeman, someone needed to pay, and as tired as Konan was, he wasn’t opposed to it being two dirty cops.

Published by frontporchmusings694846020

I am a good ole country boy residing in North Mississippi. I love to read, fish, hunt, hike and go to garage sales. Flea markets are a passion of mine. I read anything, but some of my favorites are: Dean Koontz, Robert Frost, Emily Dickinson, T.S. Eliot, Shakespeare, and I possess a fondness for the writings of William Faulkner and Mark Twain. If I am forced to choose, I prefer baseball to football. I enjoy Alabama football (Roll Tide)! My baseball teams include: The Colorado Rockies and Boston Red Sox. I am divorced, the father of two daughters and live by myself with Chunk and Roscoe (my dogs).

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