Jesse texted Michel with the details, and mentioned that their customer was a policeman. Michel wanted to know which flavour, as he preferred the VPD to the RCMP. When he heard it was the RCMP he refused to take the job.
You can’t do that, Jesse texted back. We don’t discriminate on the basis of sex, being a cop is no different.
Fine, Michel texted back. I’ll go to the address and find a reason not to help him.
“Oh, Jesus,” Jesse said aloud.
“What’s happening?”
“My partner hates the RCMP and doesn’t want to help you.”
“She’s trying to kill me,” the cop said, slowly and distinctly.
“Then report it, or tell me why you can’t,” Jesse said.
“Her whole family is cops.”
“Oh,” said Jesse. “So the plan is to harass you to death,” he added.
“She cut the brake lines once already,” the other cop said. He looked like he was anxious to be elsewhere, but stuck in his partner’s drama.
“What? That’s a little harsher than harassment. You do understand how it looks, right? — the hypocrisy of encouraging citizens to report attempted murder to the police when you’re not doing it.”
“Her dad’s a cop, and he covers for her. Her mom works in the office,”
“Oh,” Jesse said again.
“She’s working an overnight shift. I want to get my stuff out tonight.”
“We’ll be there. I’ll handle Michel, he’s just being an ass,” Jesse said. “You’ll have all the help you need.”
They left.
An hour later, Michel texted.
There’s something wrong at this apartment.
Jesse replied, Wut another db?
There’s poison in the yogurt and poison in the rye.
Jesse exhaled, not knowing whether to laugh or groan. He replied, ??
This is a crime scene but nothing’s happened yet.
You going to stay? Jesse texted. Nothing that had happened since the bang on the door had brought him any ease.
For my curiosity.
Hm, Jesse thought. Maybe they’re both trying to kill each other.
Half an hour later, Michel texted again.
I’m in the kitchen, wife comes in. She goes straight to the rye and checks it. I think she’s who poisoned it.
Oooh, now she’s beating up the side of the fridge and yelling where is he?
Not there, she cut his brake lines, Jesse replied.
Cue the husband! Like magic. Came through the side door.
Why is everyone in the world fucking crazy, Jesse texted, sighing. He knew that Michel could run thirty kilometres an hour while texting and stopping bullets; he had no concern that he might be distracting him.
MAN I LOVE YOU TOO MUCH TO REPEAT THIS DIALOGUE
They’re going at it? Jesse replied, pleased by the compliment.
NO SERIOUSLY she’s trying to taunt him into drinking. I won’t let him don’t worry. FUCKSTICKS
Jesse’s heart felt like it was bouncing between his spine and his ribcage. Twenty seconds went by, and then thirty, with no text from Michel.
They drew down on each other, and fired.
I stood between them. Liable to bring the administration of justice into disrepute if they actually kill each other.
They emptied their clips, the little dears. Fucking smarts man when you get hit from both sides rapidfire.
Pricks almost broke my phone.
Jesse realized that he seemed to have quit breathing.
The tac squad. More guns, more yelling, more threats. I got a plan.
Nothing for almost a minute. The kitchen clock ticked so loud Jesse wanted to smash it off the wall.
Then, I pretended to crawl out of a kitchen cupboard like I’d been hiding there.
??
I’m standing on their guns now. Seems to have made things worse.
Since everything’s fucked already I asked them about the poisoned food.
The noise in here, unbelievable. These two fuckers deserve each other. I should not have interfered.
Now you’re looking around for the brass. I ate it you dumb cluck.
At least I understand what happened here, client’s partner broke down and called the cops.
There goes our thousand dollars, Jesse texted. What are the cops going to do to you?
Nothing, I’m already standing outside. Called for a cab on my other phone, don’t feel like walking far.
Jesse texted, They’re going to wonder where you went.
Used a different face, voice. Also I sandwiched my appearance so I looked different from the other side.
Good luck getting a useful description of me you clownbags.
I’m gonna rest up for a day and go see Kima. If you need to move in the next 48 call George I’m busy.
