The windows were shattered and glass was strewn across the floor. The main gate was blown apart by the casual home-made explosives. The mafia had never been so bold, so coordinated. Luckily, casualties from last night’s attack were limited to a few gate guards, and we were able to make arrests of some key suspects early this morning.
We were picking up the pieces when the package arrived.
The package had looked innocuous enough and in fact someone had left it sitting on the mail room table for the entire morning. It was only when the hapless mail boy picked it up and felt the gooey substance on his hand that we all realised something was terribly amiss.
When we finally got to the unenviable task of opening the box, it was high noon, and the deliverer was already long gone. It was a grim discovery. A severed human hand, female no doubt, from the finely manicured nails and bright red nail polish. In fact, the silver etched signet ring casually slipped on the index finger clearly pointed to the hand’s former owner. The Seymour family are powerful elites in the city, the crem de la crem, the hidden royalty. Their only daughter, Charlene, a socialite and serious philanthropist, was currently married to the most powerful man in the city – the mayor.
In the academy, we were taught to serve and protect the citizens at all cost, but justice in the city is more nuanced. Every day, the scum and the filth of the city die and rot in the alleys, their blood washed under the gutter. The city forgets about those people. Meanwhile, less than two blocks away, the politicians hobnob with the wealthy atop gleaming skyscrapers while sipping thousand-dollar champagne in their imported crystal glasses. What is justice? Yet, this is not a question we burden ourselves with. We only know the law, and if the mafia chooses to break it, to sow chaos, to bring pain, we shall enforce the law.
We had heard rumours that the mayor’s wife had gone missing last night. But seeing this hand, now stiff from rigor mortis, gave all of us a sinking feeling in our stomachs. We knew the mayor would never let this slide, and an all-out war would be declared. Calls will have to be made, press releases to be held, and an investigation to be opened.
The mafia has to answer for this unspeakable tragedy.
By hook or by crook.