Lights Out
“Anyone can learn to type, maintain files, smile and answer a phone. At Britt and Chase Associates, more than any secretarial skill, discretion is most important. It can’t be taught. Interrupted meetings, snippets of phone calls, mysterious messages-you can either absorb it and keep your mouth shut, or you can’t and you should find a job somewhere else. I’ve held reign over that back-office reception desk for eight years now. Oddly enough, as of today it’s been exactly eight years. Sure, reception doesn’t sound exciting, and it isn’t. However, a feeling I believe no one should have to feel becomes immediately apparent after spending thirteen hours a day for eight years sitting behind a desk answering the phone-the undeniable feeling something malicious lurks underneath a friendly business name.”
“Why exactly have you come here?”
“To tell you what’s been going on. I’ve kept my mouth shut for far too long.” Phillip sat on the edge of the office chair provided as he sat in front of head detective, Boris Tarnekey. He was shaking uncontrollably, sweat drenching his checkered white and blue shirt. His gaze couldn’t meet Tarnekey’s, but the detective sat with his hands interlocking at his mouth, his elbows resting on his desk, a neutral look across his face.
Tarnekey sighed. “Eight years, huh?” he asked. He was as surprised as Phillip.
“At least if I get in trouble now, he’ll be in jail before he can hurt me,” Phillip explained, his voice wavering and barely audible.
“You’re being fairly vague. Would you care to elaborate?” Tarnekey asked, losing patience.
“My boss is an odd man. Something’s up with him.” Phillip’s consistent tone and position unsettled the detective.
“Listen kid, if you’re not going to tell me what’s happening, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave. I need to know if this is something I should be worried about.” In saying this, he pulled out some paperwork from earlier and began to skim through it.
“We should all be worrying.” Phillip looked up, his tired, hollow looking eyes piercing into Tarnekey’s.
“Why’s that?” Tarnekey lowered the papers, his eyes lighting up with intrigue.
“My boss.”
Tarnekey sighed once more. Could this guy be any more vague? “Okay, what’s your employer’s name?”
“Jeremy Britt.” He replied coldly.
“Alright, and what has he done to arouse suspicion?”
“My co-workers are disappearing. I think he’s responsible.” Tarnekey raised an eyebrow skeptically. Nothing exciting ever happened in their town, let alone missing person’s cases.
“Please explain. Chronologically could be helpful, if you don’t mind.” The detective leaned back in his office chair, his hands now behind his head, awaiting an explanation.
“Not at all. I was hired by my first boss, Leonard Chase, to work at BAC, which was Leo’s Bulbs at the time. Britt came along and his company bought us out, but he became such good friends with Chase they became business partners. That’s when the disappearances started.” Phillip was now glancing rapidly at different parts of the room. This kid’s been through some shit.
“Who all disappeared?”
“There were too many. I’ve worked under Britt for seven of the eight years I was a receptionist. People come and go.”
“So, you’re saying that coworkers are going missing and your boss is at fault?” Tarnekey leaned back in, his hands interlocking and resting on the desk.
“Yes.” That’s the least vague thing he’s ever said, Tarnekey thought.
“Why?”
“I hadn’t caught on until my second year working with him, so my third year as a receptionist. He would call people into his office and invite them to talk over a brief meal. Usually dinner, come to think of it, but lunch happened a few times too. Most of the people weren’t doing particularly well in their field. That went missing, anyways.” Phillip began speaking more casually, signaling to Tarnekey that he’d calmed down substantially.
“How often did this happen?”
“Every few months or so.” Phillip replied.
Something wasn’t right; this story had too many blank pages. “I’m sorry sir, I have reason to believe your accusation is misleading.”
“How so? The evidence is irrefutable.” A concerned and somewhat angry look grew upon Phillip’s face.
“Wouldn’t other co-workers have caught on, it happening so often?” It only made sense.
“Not necessarily. Only twice a year I think people would actually go missing. He’d invite others as to deter suspicion.” Phillip explained.
“Okay, but whatever happened in the case a coworker didn’t return?”
“We’d come back the next day and their desk would be cleared. Britt would explain that we needed to let them go.”
“How does this tie in to the disappearances? Surely this can’t be the only evidence.”
“It’s like a mentioned-a skill I’ve learned over the course of my career. Discretion, especially when you’re exposed to things you were never intended to be a part of. The more it happened, the more curious I became. It was a mistake for Jeremy Britt to use his work-phone for malicious conversation. Whenever he was on the phone, I would mute my end of the line but listen in. It started out unintentionally, but knowledge is power. He would also get me to fax messages in code. I could figure them out, it wasn’t very hard, him using the Caeser Shift by fives. That’s why I declined his offer to take me to dinner. Even if he didn’t have the intention of brutally ending my life, I wouldn’t want to risk it.”
“So, by disappearing, you meant murder?”
“By definition, yes.”
“What did you hear on Britt’s side of the line?”
“Turns out he had another business partner. In crime, nonetheless. This is the evidence I was speaking of earlier. They would speak of locations and, more importantly, how they executed not only their work, but their victims.”
“Did you get the name of his assistant?”
“Gunther Price. Lives downtown in Crest Gardens. Forty-three or so.”
“Well, that’s all we need to begin interrogation. But I still have some additional questions. You say the victims were let go by the company. Do you have any knowledge of Britt speaking with Chase about this?” While many questions had been answered, there were too many blanks unfilled.
“Yes. That’s why he selected people whose work statistics were declining.”
“Alright. I can call in an investigation. You may leave now. Phillip?” The kid wouldn’t move-he just sat and stared. Played with his fingers. He looked…frustrated. Infuriated, a hint, perhaps.
“We’re not done yet. I’ve…I’ve seen it.” It was clear Phillip’s anxiety started kicking in again. He began glancing around the room rapidly as he had before, and his breathing began to quicken
“Seen what?” Tarnekey leaned in closer. If he wasn’t confused before, he was now.
“T-the murders.” An even more worried expression grew onto Phillip’s face. He looked as if he’d pass out.
“Sit tight, kid, let me bring you some water.” Tarnekey left to the hall and filled a miniscule paper cup with water from the machine. He then went back for another as Phillip drank the whole thing in one gulp. Tarnekey then gave up and headed to the vending machine at the end of the hall and got the kid a bottle.
“You were a witness to the killings?” Tarnekey began questioning again as Phillip took long quaffs from the bottle. “Please, I know it may be hard, but could you tell me what you saw?” Phillip ceased drinking and only stared. He was in pain. “Hey, if we catch this guy, you won’t have to see anything else that horrendous again.”
Phillip’s face lit up a smidge. He took one more swig of water and proceeded. “It was in an alley off West Main street. The girl’s name was Joy. She was a sweet lady in her forties. I sometimes cut through there to get to my townhouse quicker. Beats havin’ to pay for a bus, anyways. There’s a labyrinth of alleys connected, and they were deep in. Britt was in an abandoned garden shed with Gunther and Joy I was maybe five minutes away from my house when I saw them. I turned right around. Called a cab.” Tarnekey repositioned the recording device to better pick up Phillip’s voice.
“What did you see?”
“She was on her knees, and Gunther had a knife. A dagger, more like. The two traded it after each cut, getting deeper and deeper with every one until Gunther gave the final blow, and thrust the knife right through her abdomen. Britt reached up to the light, and before pulling the bulb’s string said, ‘lights out’ maliciously as she fell over.”
“When was this?” Tarnekey asked as he pulled out a pocket-notebook and a pen.
“A week ago. The fourteenth.”
“Thank you, Phillip.” The receptionist gave a reassuring nod and turned to leave before hesitating.
“You…you will get him, right?”
“I promise.” Tarnekey vowed. Phillip gave a small smile and made an exit.
He got to the street, where a grin crept onto his cheeky face.
They don’t suspect a thing.
