There was a cloud of orange dust as he forced Cheetos into the gaping chasm that was his mouth. Crumbs tumbled across his shirt as his jaws bounced off of each other, barely noticing the small logs of salt and fat that were repeatedly placed between them. I know it’s a cliche, but it really was like a car crash that you can’t look away from despite how sick to your stomach its making you. That was Griffin for ya. The man truly repulsed me. That being said he was still my partner. I knew he’d take a bullet for me, just as I would for him and that all that matters in this line of work.
It took some effort, but I wrenched my view away from his animal like eating habits and looked back through the one way glass to the man we had in custody. He had jet black hair that looked like it came clean off of Elvis’ head. The guy blatantly obvious that he was fit, and had an equally strong jaw. I can admit he was a good-looking fella though it’s not likely to be the first thing you’d noticed. That’s because he was dressed like some kind of street performer or circus character. He had on a blue jumpsuit with a yellow shield decal on the chest and a red cape draped over his shoulders. You can imagine the looks we were getting when we walked this clown into the station.
I watched as he sat there, just leaning on the crappy metal table. He stared back at me, though I knew he only saw his own reflection in the one-way glass. The guy had said he wouldn’t be needing a lawyer when we booked him, so we were only waiting on Griffin to finish his stack before heading next door. This was gonna be a while though, as I could still hear a hog at a slop hole at my side.
This all started a few weeks back. A couple of those nonsense conspiracy and paranormal garbage newspapers started printing stories about local miracles. People claiming to be in some deep shit, like a mugging or a home fire. But then they’d blink and everything was all better. Doesn’t even sound like a good story but whatever. Then somebody holds up a photo of one of these “miracles” with a big purple blur across it, claiming its some kinda messiah that doing all of them. Sounds like a church nut job, but everybody was buying it. It was showing up in real newspapers like the planet, and even got onto the evening news. This is all fine by me mind you. If people start losing it that not my problem. But then we started getting people saying “its about damn time some one started looking after this city.” As if we were doing our jobs right or something. But what could we do, the press was within their rights to say that people were being saved by the color purple.
Then the joker in the cape gets himself involved. Probably thought he could get famous off the whole thing. Maybe he’s working with the paper. I’m jumping to conclusions. Point is the paper starts saying this guy was that blur the whole time, that he moved so fast the colors ran. Article here about him catching a car, this one him catching a helicopter, over there its a plane. Its like they’re working off of a mad-libs. Clearly something fishy is going on. Doesn’t matter that we don’t have any evidence, we can at least hold him for twenty-four hours. And in that time I intent to get some answers.
Finally Griffin held the end up the bag up to his mouth and tipped it back, any remaining crumbled fell into his mouth. Then he tossed it into the trash and we walked over to the next room. Griffin grunted as he sat across from the guy in the costume. I knew I’d be doing all the heavy lifting on this one, and for once I was ok with that. I wanted this interrogation for myself. I took a deep breath in, preparing to let loose my furry.
It never happen. Just as I was about explode at him, he cut me off. “I feel I must apologize for wasting your time officers.” I stopped, completely dumbfounded, just staring at him. Finally Griffin broke the silence a gargling “Excuse me?”
He smirked with such confidence, ugh I could have slugged him right there. “Well I’m sure you are familiar with the planets recurring article about me and my presence around the city. While I don’t find the need for them, and honestly find that they have made it more difficult to do my work I have read them and they aren’t false in any way. They have perfectly describe my abilities. I guess what I’m saying is that you know that you can’t physically keep me here, but that nothing next to legally doing so.”
I gave Griffin a look. He was equally confused. Recognizing this, the guy continued. “Well I assume you are attempting to charge me with vigilantism. I say “assume” as I wasn’t actually informed so, even though my Miranda rights would require that to be the case. I’ll forgive that for now and continue. You have no evidence of this crime. There are no witness as human physically aren’t capable of processing information at the rate that I move. You only have the newspapers’ deductions to work with, which would be the very definition of hear-say.”
“Though I suppose there are other things you could charge me with while you attempt to collect evidence. I know my citizenship has come into question before, but I can assure you that would be a dead-end. I have all the appropriate documentation, though under the fifth amendment I don’t to make them, or anything available to you at this point in time. Your last bet might to be some kind of claim that I’m a walking weapon. Here you might stand a chance, but it’d get pretty complicated, as I was born long before the Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act of 1994, and wouldn’t fall under its jurisdiction.” Then a moment passed before he said “That last bit was a joke guys.”
I muttered something nondescript, and walked out. I sat at my desk, just thinking, with all my previous motivation and energy dissipated. I started back to the interrogation, but Griffin was already walking him out. He smiled when he saw me, but not a cocky or victorious smile. It was sympathetic. He looked me in the eye, and I felt so small. Not even thinking I stuck out my hand, and he shook it firmly but gently, like you or I would a small child’s. “No hard feelings. We’re both working for the same thing after all” he said to me and headed out.
Looking back on it now, I’m pretty ashamed of the man I was up until that point. You talk to people and they all have their stories about when they met him. I know mines not one of the best, but I’ll never forget it. It was at that point I knew how to do my job right. Not just that, it was when I knew how to just be a person right.