Chereads / Spring Wilts for the Uniformed / Chapter 2 - Yuri Yuren, Toronto’s Finest (part 1)

Chapter 2 - Yuri Yuren, Toronto’s Finest (part 1)

"YURI!" a voice bellowed, waking me up irritatingly. "WAKE UP ALREADY!"

It was my younger sister, Brooke. She lived in my house since her school is near my workplace. Our parents have always favoured her over me, as she started doing chores and learned to cook at a young age. On the other hand, I was a wannabe delinquent who got into fights with others often. My parents had to talk to the principal at least once a month because of me, but honestly, it wasn't my fault. 

I looked at the clock on my desk. 7:32 AM. I don't get into the office until nine, so I was confused about why Brooke woke me so early.

"It's still seven. Why did you wake me up? You know If I don't get enough sleep I'll end up as stupid as you right?" I joked.

"Shut up. You need to drive me to my job interview, remember? You promised me yesterday!"

I paused for a moment. I vaguely remember her asking something along the lines of that, but I was busy watching the Raptors get cooked by the Bucks, so I wasn't really paying attention. But seriously, losing 71-134 is crazy. Are we a poverty team now?

"You never told me it was this early though," I finally replied. I didn't hear her tell me what time, so I assumed she didn't. Maybe she did. "You don't expect me to drive you if I don't know when or even where the interview is, do you?"

"U-uh, I did too! Well, I texted you the details… after you fell asleep…" She muttered just loud enough so I could hear. So my hunch was right, she didn't tell me. "But you already agreed! So you have to take me!" 

"Don't wanna."

"Please!"

"Nope."

"Please?"

"Never happening."

"Fine… I guess you won't be getting this as payment then…"

She reached into her bag and took out a box. The box was filled with full-sized Kinder Bueno chocolates. My favourite. This girl really knew how to convince me. Then, she walked over to the compost bin. Brooke took a chocolate out of the wrapper and hung it above the bin.

"No wait!" I yelled. "I'll take you! Just don't hurt the Buenos!"

She smirked. "Good boy. Now, fetch." 

She threw the unwrapped Bueno at me. I took a bite. I swear I heard angels singing around me. Was I transcending? The crunchy exterior was contrasted by the creamy chocolate filling that felt like hailing clouds of sweetness in my mouth. I was in heaven.

I was snapped back to reality when Brooke announced, "Okay! Time to leave!"

I sighed. How does she have this much energy in the morning? Was there a Dithilium crystal Inside of her or something?

"Alright, wait in the car."

"Yay! Thanks, big bro!"

As she got into my car, I started to get dressed for work. The dream I was having before Brooke woke me up felt so real. It was like reliving the memory of that day, 5 years ago. I was reminded of my fun, carefree youth.

I attended a private school, known for creating intelligent students, with over 90% of them being accepted into universities. I got into a ton of fights back then. My classmates didn't like me much, since I was the son of a police Captain and a "criminal". Some severe The Beauty and the Beast shit. My mom was involved in some sort of scandal with an insurance company that stole money from millions of people. The CEO somehow managed to pin the blame on the people in the financing team, and since my mom was in financing, she was thrown into jail.

The jail also happens to be where my parents met, but they didn't tell me much about that. All I know is my dad interrogated my mom when they first met. After the interrogation, my mom was found to be innocent, but many of her co-workers were sent to prison. The CEO of the company never got chatted. Fucked up, I know. 

Anyways, many of my classmate's parents lost tons of money due to this, so they directed that anger at me, the son of the accused "criminal".

I put on my dress shirt, skipping the last two buttons on the top. It was hot today since it was summer, so I rolled my sleeves up. I put on my black pants, grabbed my P30 and made my way downstairs.

Ding. It was a text from Brooke.

Brooke: how long u gonna take :/

What the hell is with the weird face at the end? Are you still in elementary school? I sighed and started texting back.

Me: give me 5 min, grabbing some food

Brooke: i made u bagels, just hurry up :c

If she sends one more of those emoticons I will slap her. Wait no, that would be politically incorrect. A man can't slap a woman, at least that's what my dad always said. But like… equal rights equal fights … right? I began to think I was a misogynist and grabbed a bagel from the toaster.

Going outside, I was greeted by a blaze of hot, summer air. I hated sweating, but I also hated the cold, so I guess I just hate a lot of stuff. I walked towards my Camaro and opened the door. Brooke was already in there, waiting. 

"You're finally here. I was beginning to think you lied to me and wouldn't take me."

"If I did that, you would probably tell Mom and she would definitely call and scold me."

"You know me too well, asshole."

I copied the address from the text Brooke sent me and pasted it into my GPS. As we drove off, I started reminiscing about Karina Kana, my high school girlfriend. I guess the dream made me really nostalgic since I started wondering if she was doing okay. Her smile that night still haunts me. Every laugh, every glance—each one a chance I let slip by. My chest tightens just thinking about it.

 ***

When we arrived at the destination, I looked around. Turns out, Brooke has an interview for a hair salon. She wants to be a hairdresser, eh? Good luck with that. She got out of the car, and before she closed the door, she turned towards me. 

"Thanks for the ride big bro! Wish me luck!"

"Good luck. Do you need a ride home or can you just take the subway?"

"I'll take the subway. Oh before I go, the Buenos are in the backseat."

She gave me a cute wink and trotted off. Don't be all cute and stuff to strangers though, they're going to get the wrong signals and think you're hitting on them! Little sisters are a strange phenomenon. No matter how cute they are, there is no attraction felt. Just for the record, I am not a Siscon. I wouldn't let her date anyone that I don't approve of either. Maybe being an older brother makes you more protective of your siblings.

I drove to my office slowly, as I still had 50 minutes to spare, and it only took 15 minutes to get there from the salon. I stopped by a Tim Hortons. The location I went to was - wait, let me rant about something first.

Tim Hortons used to be so good. Like, the coffee was nice and creamy, and the flavour was rich. Nowadays, it tastes like it's diluted with 90% water, and the prices have been raised too. Also, what happened to the jam-filled Timbits?! 

Anyway, as I was saying, the location I went to was quite run down. The place smelled like cigarettes, and the dark red paint was peeling off the walls. It sort of reminded me of my time in Cambodia.

As I got to the counter, a cashier welcomed me. 

"'Sup, what can I getcha?"

I noticed that his eyes were strained. He was probably a university student since he looked young. He most likely stayed up late at night.

I decided what I wanted and answered the cashier. "Uh, I'll take a regular double-double."

"Aigh', sounds good. Anythin' else?"

"No, that's it."

"'Kay, your total is $2.97."

Three dollars for a medium coffee? Why do I still come here? I paid and he told me to wait at another counter. After 2 minutes, my coffee was ready.

"Thanks," I said.

"No biggie," the cashier replied.

I was about to leave when I saw a person in the parking lot. She looked somewhat familiar, but I wasn't close enough to know if she was someone I knew. She had long, blue hair, and from what I could tell, a slender build and good posture. Couldn't really make out her face, though. I wanted to call out, but if she wasn't someone I knew, it would be too awkward for me to handle. Then she turned a corner, so I just ignored her. I went into my car and started driving to the office.

***

I parked my car in my usual spot. It's not too far from the office, so I don't need to walk too much, but it's far enough to give me an excuse to leave when I need to. This has come in handy so many times. For example, this one time I was stuck in a conversation with the receptionist. She was babbling about her (ex?)friends. They think they're all that, and they exclude me from everything. I hate them. Oh my God, just thinking about them makes my blood boil. I wasn't particularly interested in her anecdotes, but I didn't want to hurt her feelings, so I strategically talked myself out. I would love to keep talking, but unfortunately, my car is parked kind of far away, so if you'll excuse me… And I left just like that. I'm pretty good at sneaking away if I do say so myself.

Walking into the office, I was met by the previously mentioned receptionist, Erin Ellis. She had long, brown hair, which matched her deep, hazel eyes. She had a slender build, and noticeably large, uh, bosoms. She was liked by many people in the office due to her cheerful and kind personality. Erin was 25 years of age, which is a year older than me. This made talking to her casually really easy (but she talks way too much about pointless topics).

"Hi, Yuri!" She exclaimed. I'm not sure why, but it seems like everyone I know is a bit too energetic today.

"Morning. Is the Captain in yet?"

"Not yet. I think he's coming in late today."

"Oh, alright. When he comes, can you let him know that I want to talk to him?"

"Sure thing!"

"Alright thanks, Erin."

As I started walking away, Erin called out to me.

"Wait, Yuri! Do you have some time on the weekend?"

I always had time on the weekends, since I only read books and scroll through social media. I don't go to public places often since I find them too loud. Occasionally, a coworker or a friend would ask me to hang out, which I usually accepted.

"Yeah, I'm free. Why?"

"Well, some coworkers and I were going to grab dinner and hang out. I was wondering if you could come?"

Although I didn't hate her, I couldn't say the same about a few other coworkers. If Detective Harpy was going to be there, I might lose my mind. But I would feel bad turning down Erin's offer, so I accepted.

"Alright, I'll drop by. Just text me the address."

She looked at me strangely. Did I have something on my face?

"What?" I asked.

"W-well…" she stuttered. "I don't have your number…"

Oh shit. I forgot about that. Awkward.

"Oh, my bad. Here."

We exchanged contact information. She somehow managed to get me to follow her Instagram too. How did she manage to do that? Am I that easily manipulated?

"Alright, see you later," I said as I walked into the elevator.

The elevator only had four buttons. There was the basement, ground, second, and third floors. I pressed the button to the third floor. The elevator started humming, and after a few seconds, the doors opened with a ding sound that followed.

As I walked towards my desk, I sensed that many people were staring at me. I was used to it at this point. I don't engage with others often, so they don't engage with me. They would often whisper things about me as if I couldn't hear them. I heard he once beat up another officer just because they were in his way. Is it true? No. No, it's not. I heard a familiar voice call me from behind.

"Good morning, Yuri!"

It was Tibby Tetchela, a new detective who was transferred from the 61st precinct two months ago. He was promoted from an officer to a detective around a month ago though, so he was fairly new. His chocolatey hair matched his eye colour, and he was fairly built, standing at 5'10 with much muscle mass. 

"'Sup, Tib. How's the 77th treating you?"

Tibby stopped for a moment to think. I thought he would just reply with a simple "good" or at most an "it's been alright".

"Honestly Yuri," He began. "It's been pretty overwhelming. I knew that the crime rates have risen since the terrorist attacks from the CSS, but I didn't think it would be to this extent. I'm actually… scared."

Well, anybody would be overwhelmed by the state of this world right now. Everything was alright until Russia and Afghanistan allied against the US. This was the spark that started the war. Even though Canada had nothing to do with it, we were close to the US, and allied with them, so our country was involuntarily included in the terrorist attacks.

But trust me when I say this. Cambodia is even worse off than here. I experienced it first-hand for three years, as a soldier for the JTF 2. The Cambodian Separatists Society, or CSS, controls over half of the country. Once they capture Phnom Penh, they'll take over the country.

"Nothing bad will happen to you," I assured Tibby. "Well, at least not yet. You're still on desk duty until next month, so you'll be fine."

"Uh-huh. Very reassuring," he joked.

"Better to die a hero than die of a heart attack."

"With all due respect, Yuri, I don't think that dying at my age is something I'm looking forward to."

"Touché."

Tibby laughed and walked away. I walked over to my desk, sat down, and started doing paperwork for a file. Domestic abuse, huh? Why stay with someone who abuses you? Isn't the victim kind of at fault here?

As if reading my mind, a voice above me started speaking.

"No, Yuri. The victim isn't at fault."

It was my dad, Kaibo. Kaibo Yuren was a well-known name throughout the region. He was the man who single-handedly took down the infamous underground boss, Paulo Travolta. Travolta was charged with so many crimes that you wouldn't be able to count them on 2 sets of hands. His extensive list of charges includes homicide, manslaughter, money laundering, human trafficking, and other crimes that you probably never heard of before.

"Hey, Dad. What do you mean the victim isn't at fault? If your partner is being abusive, the simple solution is to leave, is it not?"

"That logic is what the criminals use to blame the victim."

"That may be, but things didn't need to escalate this way. The victim is at fault too. She could have left him and none of this would've happened."

"There's always a better outcome, Yuri. But we can't blame the victim if they aren't able to do anything for it to happen. If everything was as perfect as you say, the world wouldn't need protecting."

He's right. I hate being wrong, but my dad has never been wrong in an argument against me before.

"...Whatever," I grumbled. "Hey, could I talk to you for a minute?"

"I needed to talk to you about something anyways, follow me into my office." 

I followed him into his office. Some of the other detectives were giving me dirty looks. I can't blame them, I guess. Being the son of the captain, everybody thinks you get special treatment. Hell, I'd think that too if I were them. But unfortunately for me, this simply wasn't true. We may be family, but during work, he treats me like everyone else. He lets me call him dad in the office though, so I guess that's something.

His office was clean and spacious. There was room for even more drawers and cabinets, but it would probably be excessive. My dad and I both sat down at his desk, facing one another.

"Dad," I began. "I would like you to consider my promotion to lieutenant. I am more than qualified, other than the fact that I have a bit less experience than the other detectives. I am the best interrogator in this precinct - no, this region - no, this country and my physical capabilities are elevated due to my time in the military. Please consider it."

I handed him my application. He read through it, then looked at me.

"Although you have great potential, you're still nowhere near your peak," he replied. "Your collaboration and communication skills amongst coworkers are poor, and the other detectives don't respect nor trust you. My answer is no."

I was… upset. But I couldn't do anything about it. The captain's words are absolute. Why does he have such high standards? Who does he think he is? Khloe Kardashian? 

"...I see."

"But, there is a way you can prove your collaboration skills to me. Work with a partner."

"Who? It's like you said, none of the other detectives like me-"

"Not what I said."

"So who am I supposed to…" It hit me like a truck. Tibby Tetchela.

"I'll assume the sudden silence means you've someone in mind?" He glanced out the window.

"Yeah, I do," I answered. "I'll take Detective Tetchela under my wing."

"Hmm… okay. I approve. It'll give him field experience. He's no longer bound to desk duty as long as he's with you."

"Thank you, Captain." I finally got my chance to prove him wrong. I can't fuck it up now. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"There's been a case," said my dad as he went through his notepad. "29-year-old journalist Jill Young was reported missing by her mother a week ago. Authorities found her corpse floating on the Swan Lake."

He handed me the report. The autopsy shows that she had sexual intercourse before her death, indicating she was raped. Her arms and legs were tied together with duct tape, which was also likely used to cover her eyes and mouth, judging by the markings on her face. There were numerous injuries on her upper body. After examining the way her ribs were broken, I concluded she was attacked by a blunt object, maybe from a bat or getting kicked. The cause of death on the report read "asphyxiation/suffocation". 

She was choked to death.

I sighed. What happened to the old Toronto? Where would there be such grisly, disgusting, horrendous murders 10 years ago? The details of the case got worse every line. Maybe I should rethink career paths…

"Wait a minute," I remarked. "I thought you didn't want me to work on homicides?"

"I changed my mind," Captain Yuren explained. "You're going to need to take all sorts of cases when you get promoted. This is your chance to prove yourself. Plus, as of now, all you have to do is choose a few suspects for interrogation."

My specialty. If anyone could get into someone else's head, it would be me. Egotistical, I know, and I hate people with huge egos, but I'm not full of bullshit. I'm the best at what I do.

"Will do, Captain. Should I take Detective Tetchela with me?"

"Yes, explain the situation and give him the autopsy too."

"Yes, sir," I replied

"And one more thing," he added. "The new district attorney is going to come and introduce herself she has the list of suspects and the case file. Please make a good impression. She's the daughter of my friend." He chuckled a little when he said that last part.

"Yes, sir," I replied

I stood up and left his office.