Read The Blue Executions for Free Online

walked over to the black file cabinet, dinged and dented from years of abuse, and yanked it open.  He sorted through his case files, removed a few and took them to his desk.  I might as well catch up on some case work while I wait .
    Galvin sat at his desk; the closest one to the detective squad holding cells and noticed the prisoner who had been sick downstairs only a short time ago, was now in their cells.  Turns out the man was wanted by one of the detectives for a domestic assault.  He stunk of vomit and urine.  Galvin couldn’t wait for the reporter to arrive so he could get out of the precinct and away from the offensive odor.  He wondered why everyone was so upset over the ride a long; after all, it would probably be an uneventful night anyway. 
     
    *
     
    The apartment was spotless. All of the walls, as well as the ceiling, were painted a bright white.  He liked white walls; they made everything appear so crisp and clean.  There was not one picture or mirror anywhere on the walls.  After drawing open the vertical blinds, inviting in the late afternoon sun, the man closed the door behind him and removed his trench coat. He walked over to the closet, opened the sliding door and carefully placed the jacket on a hanger. Once he closed the closet, something drew his attention to his chocolate colored leather sectional.  Something’s not right. He couldn’t put his finger on it.  Was a pillow out of place?   Then he remembered.  He had thrown one of the pillows away this morning.  It was a different color than the other two.  It didn’t belong.
    He cautiously removed the revolver from his waistband, opened the cylinder, and dumped the .38 caliber bullets into his right hand. After pocketing the rounds, he placed the gun on the oak dining room table, making sure to place it on one of the pale green place mats. He pulled out a matching chair and sat down.  He studied the front page of today’s newspaper. A photo on the cover depicted three detectives walking out of a precinct with John Casey’s murderer in handcuffs. If the police could make an arrest in a cop’s murder so quickly, why were there so many unsolved murders every year?
    He decided it was because most of the people who murder police officers are just common street thugs, low-level drug dealers, or stick-up men backed into a corner. If an intelligent man were to commit a murder, he would never be caught , the man thought confidently.
    H e opened the scrapbook and diary which he’d left on his dining room table earlier that day. He put the articles which he’d clipped from the newspaper on the next open page of the scrapbook. Next, he looked at the diary which was opened to today’s date. After a moment’s contemplation, he made his entry.
    March 22, 2013 ---1624 hours and 18 seconds
    Paid my respects to Officer John Casey. He was a hero. He did not deserve to die.
    Ceremony concluded at 1213 hours and 14 seconds
    He drew a single line underneath the entry, making sure to leave enough room for later this evening. The man stood up picking up his revolver as he did and walking into his bedroom where he opened the dresser drawer. Dust , he hated dust.  It made the entire bedroom seem so filthy.  He would have to get the furniture polish and dust each and every piece of the mahogany bedroom furniture; the dresser, the night tables, even the heard board.  At least the walls were crisp and clean .
    He took a box of ammunition from the drawer.  Removing five new .38 caliber bullets from the box, he studied them. They might have looked like any other bullets, he thought as he loaded them into the gun’s cylinder—but, of course, they weren’t. These were special bullets.  They were Teflon-coated and therefore able to pierce Kevlar; the material bullet proof vests were made of.
    On the streets, they were known as “ cop killers .”
     
     
    ############################

     
     
    Chapter 3
     
     
    The first couple of hours on patrol had