back looked like a manatee that had submerged to look for vegetation. She materialized again with a small brown cardboard box. “Just put everything in here. Hopefully that helps.”
“Thanks again.”
“Please extend my sincerest condolences to his family.”
I made haste to the door that Phyllis held open for me, determined to not spend another second in this office that made me feel cold all over. We got outside and she led me to a giant metal barn that housed two tractor trailers. As we entered, the employees in the garage, men and women who looked like truck drivers and mechanics, stopped smiling and joking when they saw Phyllis. We walked through the now silent garage and toward a small room on the side of the building with no door.
The locker room was small and the floor was smeared with grease. There was a yellow quality to the walls. Phyllis walked to the locker marked “MORRIS, J” and pushed a key into the knob.
The door opened with a clang and Phyllis walked away. I stuffed the locker’s contents into a box and got the hell out of there.
14
“News time 1:18.”
Without thought, I gave the report on the road construction around the Beltway and discussed the lack of incidents that could slow a driver down. I finished the report and popped the microphone off. I turned to the phone, picked it up and pushed the button for Montgomery County. The phone buzzed.
“Maryland State Highway, Sergeant Conroy.”
“Hey, do you have any accidents or road closures?”
“Yeah Greg, let me look.”
“If you have a moment, I also have another question for you tonight.”
“What do ya need?”
“Do you have a public file about that tractor trailer crash near Old Georgetown last Thursday morning?”
“The truck crash week? Of course.”
“What do you collect for a fatal?”
“Well, we do inventory. There is a standard autopsy for insurance reasons. Why?”
“The driver was a friend of mine. I’m collecting stuff for his wife.”
“You are consoling a grieving widow with more information about her husband’s death?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Wow, you dog! I mean, it’s a desperate move but effective.”
“…”
“I’m not judgin’ or anything. Is she hot?”
“Sargeant Conroy?”
“Sorry Greg. Whatever you gotta do, man.”
“It’s not that…I am trying to help the family out. Believe me.”
“Were you close with the deceased?”
“No.”
“OK.”
“I just want to collect information about what was in the truck.”
“Okay, okay. I probably can’t fax or email you the file. With a fatal there is a ton of paperwork, so you are gonna have to pick it up. There’s stuff from the reconstruction. Do you need that?”
“No, just the contents of the truck will be fine. I’ll be down there this morning after I get off at five.”
“I actually get to meet you? I’ve been talking to you for ten years and now I finally get to see you face to face.”
“You guys are down on 355, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you at five.”
I placed the phone on the cradle.
I hadn’t looked at the contents from the box that I got from InTransition. Touching anything that had been in that place gave me the creeps and I wasn’t really sure why I was doing this anyway. I wasn’t a detective, even though I kind of felt like one. I was collecting evidence, just like Sylvia suggested that I do. Since I started doing this, Jerry Morris hadn’t shown up. I figured that I was on the right track. The ghost of Jerry Morris wasn’t subtle when it came to making sure I knew when I was doing something wrong.
I got off work and drove down Rockville Pike to meet Sergeant Conroy for the first time. It only took me 15 minutes. The streets were still dark and empty, some of the signals still flashing yellow as I passed the intersections.
The police precinct was like a giant glass tombstone with multiple layers and rounded edges. I walked to the front
“Thanks again.”
“Please extend my sincerest condolences to his family.”
I made haste to the door that Phyllis held open for me, determined to not spend another second in this office that made me feel cold all over. We got outside and she led me to a giant metal barn that housed two tractor trailers. As we entered, the employees in the garage, men and women who looked like truck drivers and mechanics, stopped smiling and joking when they saw Phyllis. We walked through the now silent garage and toward a small room on the side of the building with no door.
The locker room was small and the floor was smeared with grease. There was a yellow quality to the walls. Phyllis walked to the locker marked “MORRIS, J” and pushed a key into the knob.
The door opened with a clang and Phyllis walked away. I stuffed the locker’s contents into a box and got the hell out of there.
14
“News time 1:18.”
Without thought, I gave the report on the road construction around the Beltway and discussed the lack of incidents that could slow a driver down. I finished the report and popped the microphone off. I turned to the phone, picked it up and pushed the button for Montgomery County. The phone buzzed.
“Maryland State Highway, Sergeant Conroy.”
“Hey, do you have any accidents or road closures?”
“Yeah Greg, let me look.”
“If you have a moment, I also have another question for you tonight.”
“What do ya need?”
“Do you have a public file about that tractor trailer crash near Old Georgetown last Thursday morning?”
“The truck crash week? Of course.”
“What do you collect for a fatal?”
“Well, we do inventory. There is a standard autopsy for insurance reasons. Why?”
“The driver was a friend of mine. I’m collecting stuff for his wife.”
“You are consoling a grieving widow with more information about her husband’s death?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Wow, you dog! I mean, it’s a desperate move but effective.”
“…”
“I’m not judgin’ or anything. Is she hot?”
“Sargeant Conroy?”
“Sorry Greg. Whatever you gotta do, man.”
“It’s not that…I am trying to help the family out. Believe me.”
“Were you close with the deceased?”
“No.”
“OK.”
“I just want to collect information about what was in the truck.”
“Okay, okay. I probably can’t fax or email you the file. With a fatal there is a ton of paperwork, so you are gonna have to pick it up. There’s stuff from the reconstruction. Do you need that?”
“No, just the contents of the truck will be fine. I’ll be down there this morning after I get off at five.”
“I actually get to meet you? I’ve been talking to you for ten years and now I finally get to see you face to face.”
“You guys are down on 355, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you at five.”
I placed the phone on the cradle.
I hadn’t looked at the contents from the box that I got from InTransition. Touching anything that had been in that place gave me the creeps and I wasn’t really sure why I was doing this anyway. I wasn’t a detective, even though I kind of felt like one. I was collecting evidence, just like Sylvia suggested that I do. Since I started doing this, Jerry Morris hadn’t shown up. I figured that I was on the right track. The ghost of Jerry Morris wasn’t subtle when it came to making sure I knew when I was doing something wrong.
I got off work and drove down Rockville Pike to meet Sergeant Conroy for the first time. It only took me 15 minutes. The streets were still dark and empty, some of the signals still flashing yellow as I passed the intersections.
The police precinct was like a giant glass tombstone with multiple layers and rounded edges. I walked to the front
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