Jakub awoke in his bed and lifted the duvet. Sweat ran down his cheeks as he sat up. The humid summer morning air hung thickly in his room, and left Jakub feeling like being hugged by a sweaty man. It had not been a typical night, he couldn't remember when he last slept through one in one go, but this had been the worst night he ever attempted to sleep through. Sleep was terrifying, the image of the day of disaster, the memory of the sound of the bang that blew away his childhood wholesale, exploded in his dreams, and had him sitting up straight in his bed regularly when all he wanted was to sleep soundly. And then there was the dead woman. Her face twisted from pain and fear. He would never ever sleep… Checking his alarm, it was still half an hour to sunrise -his usual wake time, he decided to get up. Jakub already had low noise tolerance when it came to his sleep. Even the slightest disturbances woke him, and the cacophony of birdsong that came with first light made further sleeping attempts a futility-, undeterred by the discomfort of progressing insomnia, he sat and listened -silence-.
A few years ago, he had decided that order was the one and paramount requirement for a quality life, it meant to him that when he set his alarm to a specific time, he would rise at that given time. His clock was set to 5:30 AM. Giving in to taking a nice shower ahead of schedule would just lead to him starting the next day even earlier, and eventually skip nightly sleep entirely. Much had changed recently, he was living in his own place in the outskirts of the city, still protected by the bell program, which meant that he didn't have to worry about the radiation outside the safe zone. He had his own little garden patch just a minute distance away, by foot. His place was clean, almost obsessively so, though Jakub didn't see it that way.
He went to the kitchen to make himself a coffee, as quietly as he could. His flatmates weren't up yet, and he didn't want to wake them. Who knows where Mary and John, they occupied the room at the other end of the living area, had been, and were up to last night. It wasn't any of his business, yet he cared that they recovered well. Happy mates for a happy home, he thought. The coffee machine's grinding and steaming came to an end. Jakub poured it into a thermos, and stored it, with a dash of real milk - an extravagant waste of money, his mother used to say, but to him, it just served as a reminder that he had 'made it '- in his backpack, put on his clothes, checked with a glance in the mirror, donned his cap and left for the garden.
He found that the morning hours were the most pleasant time to tend to his crops. It was convenient to work in the morning hours. The relative cool and quiet soothed his mood, and readied him for what the rest of the day entailed. The Tomatoes came first. The first batch he planted last year hadn't done well, this year's yield promised to be an improvement, but much care needed to be taken. He went and checked the water level's of his various dispensers next. Content with his inspection, he moved on. The potato pots required some light weeding, and he went to work. More and more, the garden had become an integral part of his life. He loved everything about it. The peace and quiet, the fresh food - He thanked god that industrial grade reprocessed food 'it's good for the environment, and OK for you' was a thing of his past - and that it provided almost the entirety of his income these days, were all factors, to his thorough enjoyment of it. The Garden itself was barely more than a twenty by twenty meter patch of land framed in by a small stream, a walkway and two neighbouring parcels of land, neatly separated from his by small fences. The first thing Jakub had done when he bought the place was to span the entirety of it with a see through canopy to keep the occasional 'bad water' away from his plants. And he had been right in doing so, his crops flourished, and already he was harvesting enough produce to pay for his increasingly more civil lifestyle. It helped that he already had the arrangements in place to sell his premium 'Black beauty' brand to his former bosses.
He checked his rain water tank, last night had apparently brought a small shower, and with it the possibility of 'bad water' contaminating his supply, but nothing worrisome was there to see on the mounted geigercounter. He had had a prior incident where he inadvertently killed a bunch of his plants by irradiating them, and had learned the way. His current system had an extra tank where the rain flowed in first, and could be checked out before it entered the main water tank. Out here, the city's bell shield couldn't deflect the rain, but it hardly mattered. The terrifying nuclear winter storms had lessened over the decades, both in magnitude and frequency. The earth was repairing itself, and nowhere could Jakub feel this reassuring reality more than in his own personal Eden. He admired plants for their resilience. Sometimes he just sat on his bench and watched over the sprawling wilderness across the stream, right outside the bell zone. Nature recovered with a second wind that he had not thought possible just ten years ago. By now, the brush and grass growing on the other side had become thick enough to conceal even the old rusty double stacked wall of cars, that once had been used as a defensive perimeter during the early years after the bang. Jakub plucked some of his harvest and hung it to dry, picked up a batch that was ready for delivery and stowed it away in his pack, and made ready to leave. He had a couple of 'deposits' and pickups to take care of. It bothered him that he couldn't spend more time in the garden, but the hour he already had, had been a blessing, and he didn't feel too bad about going into the city. Now that he actually had a decent amount of money to spend on things not directly tied to his survival, he enjoyed the experience of shopping. Grocery shopping never failed to draw a big smile on his face, as he sometimes saw his own goods on display -with an almost criminal mark up-, he wasn't relevant in the grand scheme of the big suppliers, but he knew without a doubt that he had the absolute best product, and so did his customers. Even the occasional racist remarks, that had been accompanying him his entire life, had started to lose their sting. As a young man, barely not a child any more, he had made it a habit to challenge any insult directed at him. Nowadays, he simply told Dan, which had done wonders for his reputation and cut down on irritating arguments in the streets with the efficiency of the best, organized small town crime had to offer. Loosing a fingernail or two, usually settled any matter of low concern, and Jakub was glad he himself didn't have to resort to the method any more. He walked into Dan's place, whistling, Life was good, no reason to be down about anything. People died all the time.
It is a universally known rule of life, that nobody likes a whistler. Dan 'the Don' was no exception to this. He was a busy man, and there were a great many things he didn't like. Among his minor annoyances were, cats - entitled furry things with claws and a bite that would bless its recipient with a nasty infection, dogs - more fur, remarkably stupid, and upstart drug dealers turned self-conscious. There were no major annoyances left in Dan's life, he had seen to it, or so he thought. Something was grinding his gears, he couldn't quite point a finger at it, but the feeling was there. His hands were shaking, his neckbeard itching. One didn't become a respectable drug lord by ignoring a bad gut feeling. Maybe it had something to do with the dead lady the other day?
"Boss, you've got a visitor" The gruff voice of Manfred, his security guy, filled the silence in Dan's office like a popping balloon at a funeral. Dan jolted back to life.
"Who is it?"
"Says'is name's Jaboob or somethin'"
"Thank you, Manfred, send him in please."
"Yes Sir"
Jakub. The kid that found the body. Perhaps he could give some satisfactory answers. Bright kid that boy.
"Manfred, why are you still here, stop staring at me and fetch the kid"
"Yes milord, sorry milord, will do milord" He muttered as he left.
Jakub, who had patiently been sitting in the foyer for half an hour, began to feel a little wary himself, as he saw the big grunt of a man that was Manfred stomp through the corridors like a steam engine - His pipe glowing and puffing to the heaving of his thunderous steps. Eyes fixed on Jakub.
"Get up, little baboon!"
A hand, twice the size of a regular one, and definitely made of solid steel grabbed his shoulder like a vice, and the human train that was Manfred puffed back to where he came from, dragging Jakub along.
Jakub felt his heart pounding in his chest as the giant of a man pulled him through the endless maze of hallways, with each step they took getting ever closer to their destination. He had heard stories about Dan and how ruthless he could be when crossed, so Jakub was understandably terrified. Finally, they reached an old wooden door that Manfred opened without hesitation and Jakub found himself standing in a large office illuminated by pale yellow light coming from an ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The walls were lined with shelves full of books, strange artefacts, and antique weapons, while various pieces of furniture like armchairs, couches, and tables filled up most of the remaining space in Dan's office. Seated at one end behind an imposing oak desk was none other than Dan himself, looking down at Jakub with an expressionless face that made it impossible for him to gauge what was going through his mind. Manfred walked over to him then leaned down low until he was just inches away from Jakubs ear: "you better watch your words kid or else you won't be leaving this place alive". With those words still ringing loud inside Jakubs head, Manfred stepped back and stood guard next to another bodyguard stationed near one corner, arms folded across their chests - ready for action should any incident occur - as if noticing something out-of-place would trigger some kind of invisible alarm system that only they knew how it worked. All these details passed by swiftly inside Jakub's mind as he braced himself for whatever might come next. Jakub stood in front of Dan's desk, feeling a strange mix of fear and anger. He was angry at the fact that he had been dragged here and treated like a criminal. But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel scared by the thought that the Don could think he was somehow responsible for the murder, and therefore for the disruption of the Don's business. After all, who would be crazy enough to kill a woman right under the Don's window. If he took a step to the window and stretched a bit, he could literally see the crime scene. Some Policeman securing the site, the body had already been removed, but the dried blood running down the steps still told a story by itself. The Don's people hiding in the small park that frames the Balduin stairs, their usual selling spot occupied by far more police presence than they would have ever liked to see, hung around inconspicuously behind the greenery. Clearly their Ecosystem had been thoroughly disrupted. Jakub figured that the Don was in a mood. He was losing money by the minute, and the prospect of the Bulls about to peek their corrupt noses right into his business, certainly wouldn't help either. Dan 'The Don' leaned forward in his chair and gave Jakub a long, hard stare before finally breaking the silence:
"So why don't you tell me what really happened, kid? I want to hear it in your own words."
Jakub took a deep breath as if mustering enough courage before looking back into Dan's eyes with determination: "I found her body just like I said earlier… I didn't kill her or have anything to do with it! That night, I was just out there trying to make some money when she turned up… bleeding out … dead. All I did was call for help right away - how could this be my fault?". Dan kept staring at him for what felt like an eternity until finally letting out an annoyed sigh:
"Alright then, so it wasn't you. I can believe that. Nonetheless, a woman died, practically on my porch, none of my people know
who did it and here you are claiming ignorance"
"I'm no claiming anything." Jakub interrupted him "I'm just saying I didn't see anything. There wasn't anything to see really, the lady walked down the stairs, and then next moment she was clutching her throat and bleeding out. It was dark, I couldn't see anything."
The Don leaned back in his armchair.
"You don't seem to understand my boy"
"What is there to understand?" it shot out of Jakub "I don't know who did it, ask someone else!" Jakub was sweating as he lost his cool.
Manfred stepped up behind Jakub, put a hand the size of a shovel on his shoulder squeezed until he had Jakub's full attention, and firmly pressed him back into his seat.
"You see, Jakub is it? There are two ways I am willing to let this play out. First, guilty or not, you go to prison for this death. Of course, we would be thankful for you taking the heat, maybe even arrange for some deal with law enforcement to get you out early, or see to it that your stay isn't too uncomfortable."
Jakub almost screamed: "I didn't do it, you can't send me to the Bulls for this." Manfred gave him a quick slap on the cheek. "Manners boy."
"Thank you, Manfred, that is quite enough" The Don faced Jakub for a second, "It was quite enough yes?"
Jakub nodded. The Don turned his armchair around to look out of the window.
"Secondly, we, you or law enforcement finds your accused." Jakub drew a big breath, he was being offered a way out, he had already been playing vivid imagery of prison life in his head for a while now, but here was his straw. His way out.
"However, as it is not within my patience to let this investigation and undue scrutiny of my affairs continue for an indefinite amount of time, I am giving you until next Monday. If by that time no suspect has been arrested for the crime, it is your head in the gallows, I have 15 men testifying to that end. Do we understand each other?"
Jakub frowned.
"But Sir, that is in five days."
"Well, I suggest you get busy then... Manfred will see you out. And good luck on your quest, we are all firmly rooting for you!" The Don beamed at him with a smile as Manfred single-handedly lifted Jakub out of the chair and put him on his feet.
Manfred dragged a disbelieving Jakub out of the room, then put him against a wall and spoke, entirely out of character, in the whisper quiet voice of a little girl trying not to be overheard by her momma: "Look kid, you heard the Don, I don't have to tell you how serious this is. If you want out of this alive and free, I recommend you go talk to the Bullies first. That way you will be a witness first, and a suspect later, that should give you free movement until your time is up. Minus the 24 hours the Bullies can hold you for now. After that is done, you go talk to Dirk."
Jakub was puzzled, by the voice, the circumstances, the vice-like grip on his shoulder, nothing made sense any more: "Who the fuck is Dirk?"
"Dirk, is the guy you want to talk to, probably the only one who could help you, and I know for a fact that he will. You see, that girl, was his… And if I know Dirk, he is not going to let this slide. You will find none more suited, if all goes well, you just stick to Dirk until things are solved. At least that is your best shot as far as I know."
Manfred pulled out an old-fashioned notebook, the kind very responsible people carry in their breast pockets for emergencies, ripped out a page and handed it to Jakub.
"When you meet Dirk, tell him to come see me for a drink."
Jakub clutched the ripped piece of paper that Manfred had given him with both hands and shakily went outside. For a minute, he just stood there, eyes fixed on the sun, the cleaning bots chirping about as they went about their usual daily routine, the Bullies chattering among themselves about whatever business happened over at the crime scene fifty meters to Jakub's left, the city making city noises. His eyes narrowed as his resolve hardened. He would not be going down like this. He would find the bastard who did this. "Fuck the Bullies, ACAB!", now that Jakub was thinking clearly, he couldn't bring himself to trust the Bullies enough to freely turn himself in. Manfred was obviously an idiot for suggesting this, but it was interesting to consider that Manfred had tried to help him at all. It must mean something, probably, that the Don truly wished for him to succeed, or at least appear that way to him. A couple of minutes of silent thought later, he made his way over to the address Manfred had given him.
Meanwhile, Dan 'the Don' Simmons ran through just the same thoughts Jakub did, albeit somewhat less worried. This was not a usual petty crime that he, on his turf, dealt with on a daily basis. Yes, the victim was a local hooker, but the manner of her passing and the potentially intentional implication of his business, could mean that there was someone acting deliberately against him.
Manfred entered the Don's office, but Dan didn't let that bother him. Eventually, Manfred audibly cleared his throat, triggering the Don to talk.
"Have you sent the boy on his way?"
"I have, as instructed."
"How did he take it? Do you think he will succeed?"
"Sir, If I think me might have kicked a rolling stone lose. I would be surprised if this wasn't going to start an avalanche."
"You are being overly dramatic, Manny."
"No Sir, one of our ladies, her throat sliced on OUR doorstep, and we haven't the faintest clue as to who did it… None of the men having seen anything, this whole thing smells of a plot. It just all seems so impossible. There were seven of our men around the stair that night. And the assassin wasn't even spotted? Either our boys are lying, which I don't think plausible, or someone worth a lot of money managed to sneak past the Bullies surveillance as well as our own, murdered that poor woman and just vanished without a trace."
"Tell the boys to suspend all activity until this affair is behind us. And arrange a meeting with senator Scholz."