The Demon Within by Robert L Bryan

Author:Robert L Bryan [Bryan, Robert L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-17T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8: The Case Folder

May 15th

Finn squeezed into the only available booth. This Burger King was packed with two types of customers. On one side of the fast food restaurant were elderly singles and couples enjoying a cheap lunch, and on the other side were young mothers gossiping in small groups while their young kids ran wild inside the large colorful playset.

Finn was early for his appointment. So early that he had the opportunity to multitask. “Hi, Nancy, it’s Finn Delaney. I just wanted to touch base with you.”

“Oh, hi Finn.”

Finn noted how chipper Nancy sounded, as if his call may well be the highlight of her day. “I just wanted to keep you in the loop, Nancy. I went to that church the other day.”

“Oh, you did?” Nancy exclaimed. “Did you learn anything?”

“Aside from the fact that it was probably the most bizarre and creepy experience I have ever had – not too much.”

Finn could detect the disappointment in Nancy’s voice. “Well, thanks for trying. What are you going to do now?”

“I’m meeting with one of the detectives who worked on the case,” Finn explained.

“Oh, really.” Nancy sounded encouraged. “When is that meeting?”

“In a few minutes. I’m waiting for him now.”

“That’s great. Keep me posted, Finn.”

“I will.” Finn hesitated briefly before continuing. “But don’t get your hopes up, Nancy.”

“I won’t Finn. I’m thankful for your efforts.”

The onsite clientele made it easy to identify Paul Taggart. Finn noticed him through the window, lumbering down Northern Boulevard, coming from the direction of the 111th Precinct. Finn immediately tagged Detective Taggart with a one-word description – rumpled. Whereas Chris Moritz looked like he was born in a suit, Paul Taggart looked like he would be foreign to any clothing beyond t-shirts, jeans, or shorts. It was probably distasteful for Paul to get into the wrinkled white dress shirt and equally wrinkled blue print tie. Finn mused that there was likely so much effort required to close the shirt over his ample belly, that Paul had no time to brush his hair or shave.

Being a true detective, Paul Taggart had no trouble identifying Finn. “Finn Delaney?” he said without a handshake. He was too busy trying to wedge his belly into the booth.

“It’s good of you to help me, Detective Taggart.”

“Hey.” Paul held up his hand. “It’s no big deal. I’d do anything for the Chief. Your dad’s a good guy. About fifteen years ago I was a cop in the seven – five.” Paul used the NYPD jargon for the 75th Precinct. “Your dad was the commanding officer when some cops got jammed up big time skimming money from drug dealers. I never got involved with that shit, but I knew it was going on and was too afraid of being labelled a rat to say anything. When the ax finally fell on these assholes, Internal Affairs tried to drag me down with them, but your dad stepped in and went to bat for me. He saved my job.” Paul removed a

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