The Executioner

Four

Winter in the City of Angels is mild compared with most of the USA. Temperatures rarely go below fifty degrees Fahrenheit, but for Los Angeles residents that’s certainly cold enough. By 5:45 a.m. a cold drizzle had started. Police officer Ian Hopkins wiped his cell phone on the sleeve of his uniform jacket before snapping another picture of the observers outside the church.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ asked Justin Norton, one of the two officers first at the scene.

‘Taking pictures,’ Hopkins replied facetiously.

‘Why? Do you have a morbid fetish for crime scenes or something?’

‘Homicide Special asked me to do it.’

Officer Norton looked at Hopkins sarcastically. ‘Well, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but the crime scene is that way.’ He used his thumb over his shoulder to point to the church behind him.

‘The detective doesn’t want pictures of the church. He wants pictures of the crowd.’

A worried frown this time. ‘Did he tell you why?’

Hopkins shook his head.

‘And why are you holding the camera around chest height instead of bringing it to your eye?’

‘He doesn’t want the crowd to know I’m taking pictures of them. I’m just trying to be discreet.’

‘These Homicide Special detectives…’ Norton tapped his left index finger against the side of his head. ‘They’re really fucked up in the head, d’you know what I mean?’

Hopkins shrugged the comment away. ‘I think I’ve got enough now anyway. Plus this rain will screw up my phone if I’m not careful. Hey…’ he called as Norton started to walk away. ‘What happened in there?’

Norton turned around slowly and locked eyes with Hopkins. ‘You’re new to the force, right?’

‘It’ll be three months this week.’

Norton gave him a cheesy smile. ‘Well, I’ve been a cop for over seven years,’ he said calmly, pulling his cap lower over his eyes. ‘Believe me, this city has thrown some messed-up shit my way, but nothing like what’s in there. There are some evil people in this city. For your sake, just take your pictures and move onto the next job. You don’t want the image of what’s in there burned into your memory right at the beginning of your career. Trust me.’