Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction ❯ Dragon Ex Machina ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

Dragon Ex Machina

 

DISC: I do not own Pet Shop of Horrors or its characters. These are the property of mangaka Matsuki Akino and publishing house Tokyopop (in the U.S., anyway). I make no profit from this story. Please don't sue.

 

 

Chapter IV

 

More and more, Leon was becoming convinced that paperwork was the most effective means of torture that man had ever created. There ought to be something against it in the Geneva Convention. Cruel and unusual punishment - except that it wasn't really unusual. In fact, the need to do it every day for every case was part of what made it so cruel.

 

You'd think the bureau would figure out that cops just weren't made to file paperwork. There should be like some sort of group secretary to do that, so that those who went out and faced bad guys could hunt more criminals down. Wouldn't that make sense financially, too? Someone sitting in an office writing notes and filling out forms could get office pay and those out on the streets risking their lives… well, they'd probably still get crappy pay, but it would be worth it to not have to fill out those damned forms every day.

 

Form typed in triplicate, he placed it in the proper folder and filed it for someone else to process in the who-knows-where of bureaucracy, then leaned back and sighed. It had only taken him an extra three hours of work to finish all the files he'd been neglecting this week. But it was done now. Now Jill could get off his back. Yeah, and pigs could fly.

 

The blonde detective stood and grimaced as he felt his joints creak in a way they never had before. Before...

 

He'd gone back to work as soon as the doctor cleared him for it, and even pushed his way into regular duty two weeks before the doc okayed that. Jill had voiced many times in his first few weeks back out in the field her suspicion that the chief had been hoping Leon would overextend himself and end up back in the hospital, but just hadn't been quite so lucky as to get the vociferous and always irritating Leon out of his hair again so soon.

 

But really, Leon thought Jill was just teasing him.

 

He knew he and the chief had their rows in the past - hell, they'd had some outright shouting matches before. But that had changed. He'd changed. Part of him, the deepest part was the same, he knew. But still.

 

Back before, he'd have said the change was all the chief - the chief had finally seen reason and started listening to him. But he knew better. The change was mostly Leon. There just weren't too many things that got him all riled up anymore. And on the few occasions where he felt the need to push a topic, the chief would gear up as if he were going to argue back and then, he'd look at Leon and give in.

 

Because Leon had changed. The chief had even commented on it. Said, “You've always been a good cop, but without a hair trigger, you're more reliable now.”

 

That should have made him happy. But… whatever. He did his job. That was what was important. And that was all.

 

What else was there? Chris was back with a family who loved him. And…

 

And there were too many people out there who wanted to hurt others for no good reason. He wanted to stop them. Simple.

 

He'd been back on the force for 4 months now. It was half a year since…

 

Funny how easy it is to fall back into routine. It was routine that helped keep him distracted, focused. Because his job was important.

 

Sighing, he opened his messenger bag, placed in it things he'd need for the weekend from his desk. The weekends were the worst. There weren't as many distractions. And for some reason, he'd stopped drinking beer after he got out of the hospital.

 

Yep. He sure as hell had changed.

 

Sighing again, he slid a crayon drawing - now in a protective plastic cover - out of his drawer and slipped it into his bag. He was just about to leave for the weekend when he overheard the next shift talking.

 

“-every time. Fucking, god-damned lawyers. The guy was so guilty! Even his fucking MOTHER would've called for a guilty verdict!”

 

“God-damn politics. I don't care how good looking the guy is.”

 

“How many other little boys are going to have to die before they let us do our job and lock him up for good?”

 

“I was hoping he'd get the chair. Now, one of the parents is likely to try to do what we couldn't. And where will the big lawyer with the stupid loopholes be then?”

 

“It never fails. And now he's going to be back out on the street.”

 

Leon felt his heart drop into his stomach.

 

“Hey, I saw Orcot's car in the lot. Are you gonna tell him?”

 

But he already knew. It wasn't hard to figure out they were talking about the Sanderson case. The man was charming, good looking, had a great job and a fiancée of 9 months - had been scheduled to be married next year. Until he'd been arrested. For abducting young boys, torturing them and raping them before letting them starve to death and then disposing of their remains.

 

Remains of the last victim, 7 year-old Billy Johnson, had been found in his freezer before he'd had the chance to dump them. Three other boys had been found in different places over the past 18 months. In pieces. No pattern to the dumpings, really, but none farther than a three hour drive from his estate. Saw marks on the bones found in his freezer matched those of the other 3 boys, and the officers were all hoping for the death penalty.

 

To top it off, someone had seen Sanderson escorting a crying Billy Johnson down the street. Eyewitness. Then remains in the freezer. Open and shut case.

 

Except earlier in the week, the lawyer claimed that Sanderson had recently fired the landscaper that lived on his property. And photos of young naked boys that had supposedly been found in the back closet of the gardener's cottage were presented as evidence. No one was taking into account that Leon himself had searched that cottage at the time of the arrest, and those photos sure as shit weren't there then - so they would have had to have been placed after the fact. Leon was certain the photos had been taken since then - they weren't photos of any of the victims that had been found.

 

And the eyewitness, they were discounting as simply mistaken. For no other reason than the eyewitness wasn't as attractive or as charming as Sanderson. So obviously, without brilliant looks, the eyewitness must be less trustworthy than a man who had the remains of a 7 year-old boy in his freezer.

 

Oh, but he was the victim, who mistakenly trusted his landscaper - he must be. He was so charming.

 

The lawyer also miraculously came up with an alibi for Sanderson - he'd supposedly been with a ten-buck prostitute, one last wild-oats fling before marriage. Said prostitute was willing to do time for prostitution to “tell the truth about an honest john.” Talked about how the guy went on and on about his fiancée and about how he thought he'd never be good enough for her.

 

Forget the fact that his alibi was a cheap hooker. Forget the fact that said prostitute was also wearing a very expensive diamond tennis bracelet and had just moved out of her run-down apartment into a fully paid and furnished house in the suburbs with her mother and her three-year old son for which she'd paid cash.

 

The jury should have figured it out. It was obvious. It was like a friggin' Hollywood movie script it was so obvious.

 

The fact that the fiancée hadn't made an appearance and had called off the wedding just made people feel more sorry for him. And the media was having a heyday. Because the people love you if you're pretty and charming.

 

D wouldn't have been fooled. Not for a second.

 

And now, this guy had gotten off. Scott-free. Leon had no doubts he'd kill again. And he'd be more careful now. They'd never catch him.

 

The whole thing was fucked up.

 

What the hell was wrong with the system anyway? Did only those who couldn't buy off a judge or a lawyer get punished? Wasn't this supposed to be the land of equal opportunity and justice?

 

Damn it all! He slammed his fist against the desk in frustration. Why the hell was he even doing this job anyway? Those other officers were right. One of the parents was likely to shoot the guy and end up in jail - and they'd spend their lives in prison for doing what the US Legal System had failed to do for them.

 

D had it right.

 

D would have given him a fucking crocodile or something that looked like a boy and the second that guy tried to rape it, it would have eaten him. God damn it. If only D were still here. He'd applaud. He'd apologize to him for every accusation and beg D to intervene.

 

Because even if it sometimes seemed over the top, D's system of justice at least got results.

 

Leon froze as that thought crossed his mind.

 

Did he actually just admit that D had it right?

 

He stopped and really considered it. Justice wasn't just some vague concept - it had purpose and meaning. That was why law enforcement was so perfectly suited to his personality and temperament. It was something to believe in.

 

But the corruption... Every year it got worse. And more guilty wastes of space ended up back on the street, hurting the innocent. Did the law even really help anyone anymore? Or did it just protect the criminals and leave the victims helpless? Okay, sometimes the system worked. But it felt too much like that was the exception to the rule.

 

And D's method of using the pets to reward or punish… he could no longer argue the expediency of it. They were both trying to do the same thing, really: stop the guilty and save the innocent.

 

So did D have it right?

 

Well, that was the question.

 

D was a kami - something rare and unseen in the world. He wasn't of this world. Or at least he wasn't part of the human world - he remained always above and untouched by that filthy cesspit of brutality and insanity.

 

At first, Leon had thought that it was an act - that it couldn't be real. And it pissed him off. Only the dirtiest criminals pretended to be that clean, the most vicious, those who would stop at nothing.

 

But D *was* clean. Excruciatingly, enticingly so.

 

Sure, he knew how to get around the law, keep things technically legal while extracting what might be called “vigilante justice.” But he would go out of his way to help those who were in need. For those who could find no assistance anywhere else, D would work wonders.

 

While Leon might not agree that all those who were punished by his system merited the level of punishment that they received, most of the time, once he knew all the details, he almost agreed that the bastards got what was coming to `em. And right now, it seemed like there were fewer innocent victims with D's system of justice than there were in his own.

 

If he wanted to serve Justice, there had to be a better way. Maybe not exactly D's way but maybe a middle ground. If he found D, maybe they could figure it out together. A middle way. A better way.

 

If he found D…

 

All he'd have to do is find D.

 

So what the hell was he doing here?

 

He sat up straight at his desk and hand wrote his letter of resignation. Without a word, he marched into the Chief's office and handed over the letter, his badge and his gun. The Chief's response was, “What the hell is this?”

 

“I'm done.”

 

“Leon,” the Chief's voice was comforting and he stood and walked over to the young blonde. Patting him on his shoulder, he said, “Leon, you can't let it get to you. We're gonna keep a close eye on Sanderson. We'll find something else - another way to…”

 

He held up a hand. “It's not that - not *just* that, anyway. It's just… I'm done. Thanks for taking me back, Chief, but. I can't do it anymore.”

 

The Chief sighed and then tore up the letter of resignation. “You've got a leave of absence for the next month. Figure it out. Then come back.”

 

Leon chuckled softly. “Thanks for the offer. But I won't be back.”

 

“We'll see,” the Chief called as he walked out the door.

 

Smiling, Leon left the station house and headed to his apartment. He had a lot to do. He didn't own much, but what he did own, he could sell. And he'd never been that big of a spender, so he had a fairly nice sized “retirement” nest egg to get him started. Who knew how long it would last. Traveling around the world searching for one person among billions was not likely to be cheap.

 

He must be insane. Leaving everything to find D.

 

Somehow, he couldn't keep the grin off his face.