Violence by Timothy McDougall

It was just such a jolt to his primal reactive instincts to be standing across from the animal he was sure was the one particularly responsible for putting the grisly series of events in motion. The room had suddenly gone icy-cold for Anderson as he peered into the mocking abyss of Derek’s petulant stare.
    And there was something else. It was almost as if Derek could see through the glass, too. Could see Anderson. His return gaze was unflinching, unrelenting, and the subsequent smirk was subtle but clear to Anderson.
    Anderson went berserk. He howled, sprang forward and tried feverishly to open the door to the inner corridor. The door held fast. Anderson stepped in front of the observation window and slammed his fists furiously against the glass.
    The mirror was shaking and muffled shouts could be heard on Derek’s side of the glass. Derek knew what was happening but was unperturbed. Actually smug. The beefy patrolmen next to him were not as confident that the window would hold.
    Crotty was already trying to grab hold of Anderson when an extra patrolman materialized and helped Crotty pull Anderson away from the glass.
     
    It was at least an hour later when Crotty was able to escort Anderson from the facility. Anderson was left to cool off in one of the all-purpose rooms used for police training and emergency services. Right now Crotty was walking him through an empty hallway that ran through the idle offices of the police station administrative area.
    “They should be arraigned in the next 24-hours. I’m fairly certain they’ll be remanded into custody, that is ‘held without bail’ until trial, considering the seriousness of the charges.” Crotty was saying this as his thick-soled footfalls clacked on the glistening waxed floors of the hallway.
    Anderson’s accompanying steps were more catlike, silent and mournful.
    Crotty continued, “I fully expect the prosecutors and the grand jury to follow up with formal murder charges. We have what appears to be a wealth of physical evidence and we’ve got an eyewitness of the suspects leaving the scene.”
    Crotty did not want to say Anderson’s elderly neighbor had been in just before Anderson to identify Derek and the others but could not say for certain who the men were, or whether they were the ones he saw running from the Anderson house or even if they were the ones he saw earlier that morning landscaping on the Anderson property.
    “I’m going to do everything I can to put these guys away.” Crotty stated, then added a quick qualifier. “If they did it.” Crotty continued walking and talking. “I don’t know how long we’ll be tied up out at your home, but my department will work tirelessly on doing a thorough investigation.”
    Crotty’s two-way radio crackled to life on his hip. “Wayne, got a sec?” A female dispatcher’s unemotional voice crackled over the radio’s speaker mic as Crotty stopped before a door with a vision panel and a key pad where he was about to enter a 4-digit code to gain entry to the Sally Port Area.
    Crotty brought the two-way up to his mouth and answered. “This is Wayne. Go ahead.”
    “They’re all done with the victims at the Anderson house. Do you want me to call for body removal?”
    Her voice had a smoker’s rasp, Anderson thought. She must be the other woman he saw in the Dispatch Room. She probably had to smoke outside. He hadn’t smoked since his days in the military. Anderson didn’t know why his mind was flitting to mundane thoughts, but he felt oddly like a computer left on, uselessly having to cool, cycle updates, be ready to give information, but essentially having to wait for input to perform anything worthwhile. Alive but not real. Maybe it was just better to think about something like that right now.
    “Yeah, that’s fine.” Crotty answered uncomfortably, shooting an apologetic glance at Anderson. Crotty didn’t want to appear insensitive but he couldn’t know Anderson was in a void at this moment.