Short Story Fiction, Inspector Pascal Mysteries 1000 #11

Precisely 1000-word Fiction Mystery-Adventures of
Inspector Pascal and Sergeant Braque

INSPECTOR PASCAL MYSTERIES 1000
#11 On Leave  ©2016-2023 T.K.Naliaka

“Inspector Pascal, I apologize for yesterday.  I didn’t realize the suspect would actually attempt to choke you – so brazenly right in front of everyone.”

Pascal glanced up from his notepad. “It’s all right, Officer Pearl. No real harm done and he’s finally in custody.  Murderers as rule resent being caught - it bursts their egotistic bubble of superiority.  Anyone who concludes that murder is the solution to a problem has a judgment and morality grossly out of line with norms.  They habitually blame everyone else for their failings.  They personalize their grievances. So, never assume they have any shred of normal self-restraint when they hit the brick wall.” Pascal tugged gingerly at his collar. “That’s why we never go out without close protection.”

Pearl considered this thoughtfully as he pulled the steering wheel over to park the vehicle in front of the big warehouse office. “Who is usually assigned to you?”

“Sergeant Braque.  He’s off for the week, taking his wife on a second honeymoon.” Pascal tucked his pad into his suit jacket pocket, “Ready?”

“Yes sir!” Officer Pearl got out and hustled ahead to open the front door of the electronics warehouse for him.

“Inspector Pascal?”

He glanced up from his typing, “Yes?"

“This is Sergeant Iglesias.  He’s replacing Officer Pearl who has been reassigned.”  Lieutenant Klein stepped aside to let Iglesias step in and salute.

Pascal nodded absently and disinterestedly returned the salute. “I see.”

Lieutenant. Klein was very stern. “We’d like to apologize for the stand-off yesterday.  I’m sure it was quite harrowing being held hostage with a knife at your throat for two hours.  I have to mention that everyone was very impressed with your coolness under such stress.”

Pascal tipped his head slightly with a barely neutral shrug and dryly went back to his report. “Just one of those days, I suppose.”

"Well, this here is Sergeant Jansen, who is partnering with Sgt. Iglesias.”

“Sir!”

Pascal turned to look.  He raised his hand to return the salute, then he leaned back in his chair to consider the three of them.

Lieutenant Klein explained. “The department would be more comfortable if you were assigned two men this week.”

“I see.” Pascal closed the dossier.  He stood up stiffly, picked his brown suit jacket off the back of his chair, slipped his arms in the sleeves and shrugged it over his shoulders.

Lieutenant Klein quickly pulled a receipt out of his pocket. “This is a claim for full reimbursement for your grey suit.  We had the tailor look at it and she determined that the slashes really can’t be repaired.”

Pascal took it and tucked it into his pocket. “I appreciate that.”

An hour later, Sergeant Jansen turned the vehicle into a long driveway.  Pascal peered up as they drove under a big sign that read: Aubergine River Fishing and Verde Wilderness Shooting Parlor.  Sergeant Jansen parked the car.  Sergeant Iglesias hustled out and opened the door.  Pascal got out slowly as he looked up at the big glass entry.  A canoe hung over the entrance, framed by a stuffed grizzly on the left and a stuffed polar bear on the right of the doors. 

Jansen held up his hand. “Sir, Lieutenant Klein’s orders are that we reconnoiter first before you go in.  If you would just wait here for five minutes and we’ll come and get you.”

Pascal frowned disbelieving, “Wait… out here?”

Sergeant Iglesias nodded, “Orders, sir.”

Pascal watched them go inside.  He folded his arms and considered the sun-dappled green mowed lawns for five minutes, then leaned around to peer through the doors at the array of big game taxidermy displays, a wall of massive aquariums… but he didn’t see a soul.  Another minute ticked by and there was no sign of Jansen or Iglesias. He pushed the door open slightly, listened, then heard shouts.

Pascal un-holstered his pistol and eased inside.  He crept behind one display, then the next until he had a clear view of a group of four masked armed men standing in front of the fish tanks.  Twenty people sat on the floor looking down with their hands clasped on their heads, including Jansen and Iglesias.  One of the masked men held up a pistol, then aimed it at Iglesias.

Pascal fired.  A vertical line of bullet holes appeared like magic in the center of the huge fish tank glass behind the masked men.  Two seconds later, the entire glass panel cracked.

2000 gallons of water sluiced out of the aquarium.  The startled gunmen were just turning to look when the deluge crashed and swept their feet out from under them, spinning them around on their backs and stomachs, floundering amongst big flapping fish.  Two washed up almost at Pascal’s feet.  As they flailed, trying to get up on hands and knees, Pascal knocked out the closest man with one swing of a canoe paddle against his head, then dropped the other with a karate chop of the paddle.  The other two gunmen were swept straight into Jansen and Iglesias. They pounced, punched and wrested the rifles from the gunmen's hands.

The employees splashed and crawled away, scattering behind the racks and displays. Pascal intercepted two men, picked four coils of line from a shelf and tossed those to them. “Help out!  Tie them up!”  Pascal called out, “Jansen, Iglesias! Are you all right?”

They looked at him wielding a paddle, with two rifles slung over his shoulder, standing in the spreading puddle, then sheepishly at each other. “Yes sir!”

Monday morning, tanned and refreshed, Sergeant Braque opened the door with a sunny smile and a cheerful salute. “Good morning…” He frowned, “Sir! What happened to you?”

Pascal, with his left hand in a cast and sling, got up from his desk and handed him the file as he limped past. “I slipped on a wet floor last week and broke my wrist.”

“Sir. You need to be careful!”

Pascal agreed. “Every time you go on leave, so will I.”   T.K. Naliaka ©2016-2023 All rights reserved