100 Theme Challenge #91

Sequel of #50, #51, #52, #54, #60, #68,  #69, #70, #73, #74, #76, #79, #81 and #88.

91. Play

Part XV

The killer laughed. His blood was dampening his pants and spilling slowly on the floor, and all he was doing was laughing? He truly was mad, Jack thought as he held a hand to his side, gritting his teeth under the pain. Being stabbed fucking hurt, perhaps even more than being shot at. The pain wasn't the same, blades cut more bluntly into the flesh and bit more desperately than a small, furtive bullet. Even if he successfully diverted the killer from his original target, the knife had did some damage, and was still embedded in him. He knew he couldn't remove it right away, otherwise he'd lose even more blood than now. It was risky, but he could make it.

"Always prompt to trigger the gun, aren't you?"

"You know nothing of me."

With a grunt, the killer jumped on him, smacking the hanging cuff at his head, throwing his hat away in the process and made him fall. Crouched on top of Jack, he began to punch him, and the knife twisted in his wound. His attacks weren't that powerful, but added to the pain in his side, bells rang in Jack's head for a few seconds. He gasped, and a punch to the cheekbone, splitting it opened, woke him up. At the first opportunity, he returned a solid punch, becoming obvious to the pain. He successfully switched their position and wrapped his hand around his throat to hit his injured knee. The killer grunted and clawed at Jack's face, but the detective used his other hand to push the other's arms away, slamming them on the floor and using his weight to keep them there. He huffed and blinked as blood seeped into his vision, but he kept the pressure on the killer until he cuffed his hands together.

"Fucking asshole," he snarled, and disgust filled him when the killer merely smirked with bloodied teeth.

"Get up." Jack forced him to stand and pushed him towards the exit. He retrieved his gun on their way down. Making it back to his car wasn't easy, with the man trying a few times to free himself or attack Jack, but the latter smacked the butt of his gun against the back of his head after he almost touched the handle of the knife in him, and that seemed to calm him a bit. He had enough of him, he was filthy and bloody and his head pulsed painfully. He needed medical attention, because even breathing too deeply hurt.

He managed to drive back to the office, a hand holding the weapon in him, where an agent saw him and alerted a team who retrieved the suspect for him. Jack only got time to get out of his car before Gary was rushing at him with an anxious face.

"Jack! Goddamn it, if I knew that bastard would be there, I-"

"Neither of us suspected it, Gary. Don't worry about it."

His partner sighed. "You look like shit," he winced finally. "Do you want me to accompany you to the infirmary?"

Jack shook his head. "Nah, I went this far, I'll go by myself."

Gary nodded. "Fine then, we'll begin the interrogation without you and I'll debrief you once you get back."

As Jack walked to the infirmary, he idly noticed he'd left his hat back at Paul Clark's apartment.

.

"So?" Jack's injures had been cleaned, disinfected and bandages, the wound at his side still hurting but it hadn't touched anything vital, so the doctor said he would survive if he didn't strain for at least two weeks. Jack had scoffed at that, but at the same time he thought he deserved a quiet rest after such investigation.

"His name is Albert Green. As you may already know, he was a friend of Paul Clark, but they were also lovers. Well, they had sexual intercourse, but Green killed Clark because he wouldn't return his feelings. He stated that if he couldn't be with his true love, nobody would."

Jack scoffed at that and rolled his eyes. "Driven to madness by rejection. Some can endure heartbreaks more easily than others. What about the game cards?"

"He said it was Clark's favorite sport team. The guy tried to pay respects to his lost lover whom he killed."

Jack scratched his five o'clock shadow, sighing.

"Two murders in Chicago, and who knows how many in other cities. Did you send the Crime Scene Tech at Clark's apartment? There might be some clues of his other victims, photos of them on the walls. I also forgot my hat there, I want it back."

Gary nodded. "I did. Fuck, Jack, we've been looking for him for so long, it feels almost weird to know he's finally in our grasp. I'm also relieved, Martha will stop being anxious for me, even though we knew he was only targeting homosexuals." He sighed. "I'll never try to understand their worries."

Jack chuckled. "I think we both deserve a night of good sleep, Gary. We'll continue the interrogation tomorrow; he can rot in there for the moment for all I care."

.

His wife was also relieved he finally finished that investigation. It meant no more sleepless nights for him, and he could pretend his drinks were to numb the pain in his side.

After a few days, Is there a lesson to all of this? Jack pondered for a long moment, eyes gazing at his usual Gin and Tonic. The chair beside him scrapped on the floor, and someone puffed. He turned his head, met Kenneth's stare on him. He looked tired, but satisfied. Jack gestured for the barman to serve him.

"Did you get him?" Kenneth simply asked, and Jack knew of whom he was talking about.

"Yes. He was right under our nose during all this time."

Kenneth puffed, and the corner of his lips lift up. "Finally. Thank you for avenging James."

(What is 100TC?)

Sorry it's a bit messy, I had about no inspiration for this. I realize the interrogation part is not really satisfying (to me at last) and I'll fix it in the final version. There's also a missing scene with Clark's mother before Jack meets the killer that I'll add. It'll help connect the dots. There will be an epilogue, I won't let Jack and Kenneth finish off like this. :P