Lieutenant Collins was up early and was dashing towards the central office after his usual breakfast of boiled egg and 2 strips of bacon. Finally they have a match on the prints found on the inside circle of the ring. Hundreds of prints were actually taken out of the crime scene but none turned out to be incriminating as the prints belonged to either one of the scavengers, truck drivers, waste managers, or garbage owners themselves. But the one found on the ring proved to be very important to the investigation. Court needed no time in issuing a warrant of arrest. Lieutenant Collins is up and running to see that it gets served.
“Dennis, get your ass in the office. It’s going to be a long day!” Dan Collins woke up his colleague.
“Huh? What’s up? Who did you say you were?” A half-awake agent Lacre stammered.
“Get Up!”
“Right away sir!” Dennis recognized the scream.
Glen Antonio grew up in a family of politicians. Both his grandfather and father were past members of the Philippine Senate when it was still an independent Republic in the South East Asian region. He entered politics at the very early stage of his life, elected as SK president, Councilor and eventually became Mayor of one of the biggest cities in the state,
But luck started to fade away on Mr. Antonio the day Lieutenant Collins and Dennis Lacre approached him as he was about to tee off in the 13th hole. Glen was having his round of golf with his bestfriend on a fairly warm Saturday morning.
“Good Morning! I hate to interrupt you guys, but this is a very important matter.” Collins, cool as ice.
“Good day Lieutenant! What can we do for you?” Mahmoud Farouk, also a member of the upper house of the state legislature, recognized the young officer. Tipped his blue Nike cap.
“We are here to serve an arrest warrant to Glen Antonio for the murder of Raymond Mcmillan” Collins, hot as hell.
“What the hell!? Is this some kind of a joke?” Glen, wearing a beige polo shirt made popular by Tiger Woods, almost lost his composure.
Farouk took the warrant and read it before passing it to Glen who was trying very hard to stay calm. The bodyguards of the two VIPs could do nothing as they were disarmed by the accompanying SWAT team long before Collins said the first word.
Glen read the warrant, and again.
“Let me call my lawyer first, so he can inform my staff and family. And oh, whatever you do, don’t inform the media. I have very powerful friends Lieutenant, be reminded.” The suspected killer showed flair in handling the crisis.
“I have no control over the media sir but we’ll contain this as much as we can, and yes you may call your lawyer.” Collins gave the representative some freer slack.
Saturday afternoon, after five days in the hospital waiting for his precious one to come back, Sean decided to live and assess his house and to check up on his mother. He said his goodbyes, which sounded like a valedictory address, to Lynette’s parents and siblings, and promised to be back in a couple of hours. Don Buencamino thanked Sean generously; sent him home with a fatherly hug. Tears were not in scarcity.
Paul Rama, an ERUF Team Leader, visited the hospital to check on his brother who was shot the other night. As he turned to the right he bumped into another man who was also in a hurry. Then he recognized him, the man he got hold of when he was about to hit the pavement after a vehicular accident was the same man he bumped into. It was Sean. They changed pleasantries and as quickly as they hit right smack on each other, both were gone. Paul couldn’t help but recall the events of that ill-fated night; then something came up in his mind and he dashed to the nurse’s station. He flashed his badge, his looks would have done the trick, and the beautiful nurse immediately printed a report of the list of patients from that vehicular accident who were still in the hospital. There were seven and he went to see each one of them.
After Sean left for home, Lynette’s family gathered around her to pray the rosary. They prayed for miracle and they got it. Lynette’s fingers on her right hand moved; the left hand followed. The family gasped, waited for more, then after what seemed like eternity, she fully opened her eyes for the first time in five days. Her parents hug her tight and kissed her like a baby; her siblings continued giving their thanks to God. Tears drowned the hallways even more.
At that exact time the Buencamino family was rejoicing, Paul knocked on the door. He was allowed to come in after introducing himself, this time without the badge. He approached the lady whom has the look of bewilderment, the most innocent angelic face Paul has ever seen. This is the second time he has seen her, but the first time, she was bathed with blood and with bruises all over her body. He blinked as if to check if he’s not dreaming. Paul fell in love at first sight; make that love at second sight, if there is such thing. Slowly, he took small steps towards her; he was trying hard to look cute, the last time he did was 18 years ago in a high school acquaintance party.
Lynette looked around and recognized no one. White clothes draped the bed and windows. The room was very clean and a feeling of pureness enveloped her. Where am I? She asked herself. The people around her were eerily familiar but she can’t actually put the time and place she met them. Everyone was crying and she joined them knowing not the reason why. Then she saw a man entering the room, he was a medium-built middle-aged man. Though trying to look attractive, he really is not a knocker. The guy approached her rather hilariously. He’s taking small steps that looked like ballet steps but she was comfortable with him, she immediately noticed.
“Hi! How are you? I’m Paul with the City’s ERUF. We responded to the emergency call when you had an accident.” Paul offered his hand.
Lynette shook his hand. “Hi. What accident? Where am I? I’m sorry but I don’t recognize anyone of you.” She showed disorientation.
“I’m afraid she’s suffering from amnesia.” Paul stated the obvious.
Lynette’s mother struggled for breath.
Right on cue, the hospital doctor came in with a throng of nurses. They excused everyone and administered the patient to a series of examinations.
The waiter tiptoed his way to Angel Perez’s table. It was a restaurant designed primarily for the middle class community but their juicy and very tasty chicken BBQ in chili soy sauce made the socialite swallow her pride just to get a bite of it. She’s a regular here every Saturday afternoon; sits at the same table in the corner, away from the raised eyebrows of the middleclass men, orders the same menu and leaves with a big tip. The senior waiter always takes her order, though there is really no need for that since she always orders the same thing. He has gotten to know her during these once in a week “date.” He’s smitten with her and he swears Angel stares at his behind every after he leaves her table. She does not. She’s only interested with their chicken.
“Thank you, Bob.” Angel smiled.
“You’re welcome, Angel. Can I get you anything else?” Bob inquired.
“No. That will be all.” Angel almost lost her appetite with the first-name calling. But the sight of the grilled chicken BBQ in soy sauce is a temptation too hard to resist, first-name or not.
She took a small slice and then her cellular phone rang. There was no name or video that appeared on screen, indicating it’s a caller not registered on her 5,000-name phonebook. This must be an important one. Angel hesitated, chicken or pick up the phone?
“This is Angel. Who is this?” she decided unwillingly.
“This is detective Dennis Lacre of CRPD. They’ve arrested Glen Antonio for the murder of your fiancé. I’m giving you information just as you’ve requested and paid for. There’s no other lead yet. We’re still investigating further.” Dennis seems to be in a hurry.
“Good! Thank you.” Angel gobbled up her meal. Ordered another one, there’s a cause for celebration.
Rizniel secretly thanked his God almighty for his great relationship with his fiancé, booming business, and very good health. He also got a call from an associate breaking to him the news of a politician arrested for the murder of his best friend. It’s a good year so far. He parked his blue corvette in the space specially provided for him as the President and General Manager of the Le Grimaldi. A drizzle on his way to the office lighten up his mood. He is not a big fan of the sun. The security guard pushed a small button upon seeing his boss parked. The button will notify the kitchen to make hot choco and clubhouse sandwich for their boss.
“Good morning, Mister Legaspi!” The security guard stood straight and saluted.
“Good morning, Buster! You’ve been working out I see, Keep it up!” Riz is known to be good with people especially the ones he’s working with.
Buster smiled back.
Rizniel went straight to a small elevator, punch a 6-number access code, showed his eyes for the retinal scanner then showed his hand for the thumb and palm scan. The box immediately closed and began its descent. It led its boss to his secret office. He took the universal remote control specially designed for his workplace. He pushed three buttons and it set fire in the fireplace, turned the lights on, turned his favorite music into life, and the six big screen monitors lit up the room. He went straight to a monitor on the right end of his desk to review the last week’s recordings in his hotel. He skipped the boring part, things that were recorded at the lobby and reception, heard the latest gossip at the cafeteria, laugh a bit on a janitor checking their trash bins, watched some couple making out, a sexy lady tripping at the grand stairs, collision at the underground parking lot and more. There’s nothing serious and interesting nor worth watching again. He munched on his sandwich and sipped his hot chocolate. This is life!
CNN late night news in the mainland
Governor of the state, Mr. Concepcion, ordered his personal secretary to call Mahmoud Farouk, Glen’s best buddy.
“How did this happen? It’s election year, for Christ’s sake!” William was fuming.
“Mr. Governor, the best attorneys in the country are with him right now. It’s circumstantial evidence, nothing really. “ Farouk almost believe his own lies.
“What do you mean nothing? It’s all over CNN! I’m calling an emergency meeting for the party in a couple of hours. We have to build a big news and take the people’s attention away from Glen. Make up something. Stir their imagination.” The governor showed his dexterity in this kind of situation.
“I’ll disseminate the information right away Sir.”
The morning drizzle became stronger in the afternoon and later that night the NOAA issued a storm signal, a weak one, but a storm nonetheless, coming from the Pacific.
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