Paco Sanchez

“So, talk.” Morgan stared at the small Hispanic man. He wore an outlandish brown fedora with a yellow feather sticking out of the band.  

His brown leather jacket seemed at odds with his dark mirrored sunglasses. Three of his top front teeth were gold.  

The pimp looked like a character out of an old Beretta episode. The entire presentation gave Morgan a feeling that Paco Sanchez was more of a ‘wanna-be’ than an actual ‘heavy-hitter’. It took a moment before he got a response. 

“You talk. You’re the one who called for this little meeting.” Paco had the habit of making sucking sounds with his lips.  

“I asked you to come down to the police station. You told me you’d enlighten me if we met in your . . . office.” Calling the place an office was a bit of a stretch. It was more of a back room in a run down warehouse. “So enlighten me.”

“Jennifer Collins.” The greasy pimp said smugly, removing his shades. 

“Do you know who killed her, Paco?”  

“Let’s just say I know your dirty little secret, Detective Harper.” The Hispanic man was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. 

“Ah, so that’s what this attitude is all about? You think you have a hand in the big game? Now you want something from me?”

“You don’t even remember me, do you, Harper?” The man sucked his lips again. “We have history, copper.”

Copper? Is he stuck in a 1970’s movie? "I remember all my collars, little Paco.”  

“That’s good, ‘cause I remember all the pigs who ever put cuffs on me. You were the first one to arrest me, ‘cause I always bolted. I stole a Lincoln over on Pike Street. Did a year in juvy for that. You remember that day?”

“I remember you were a fast little runt. You could barely see over the steering wheel. We chased you until you wrapped that big ‘ol car around a telephone pole and took off on foot like a rabbit.” Morgan smirked. 

“Yeah. Any other ‘donut-eater’ would have given up after a couple of blocks. But not super cop Officer Harper. Jumped from yoir car all fresh with somethin’ to prove.”

A giant lip smack. “You were on my heels for thirteen blocks before you finally tackled me in my mom’s front yard. She watched you cuff me right outside her front window. My momma never looked at me the same after that, Bato.”

“Crime doesn’t pay, Paco.” Morgan refused to break eye contact with the irate man. “I bet the guy whose Lincoln you totaled couldn't care less about your sob story.”

“That cat got a fat check from insurance, homey. That’s what it’s for.” Paco shook his head. “The second time you got me for slingin’ dope up and down Aurora. When I saw it was you, I didn’t bother runnin’. I was twenty, so I did eight months that time.”

“Great history lesson, Paco, but I’m here to talk about some new shit.” I can’t stand this little creep. He was a shit-stain on the streets of Seattle then and he is now. “I wanna know who knocked-off your working girls.”

“We’re getting there, Bato. So, you know why I remember all the pigs who bust me? Here comes your enlightenment. I remember in case I get the chance for payback some day. Well, guess what time it is?”

“Time for you to make a point. I need to get to the bank before five.” Morgan stepped forward, placing his hands on the pimp’s desk, while palming one of the several heroin needles sitting there.  

“Damn straight you need to get to the bank, homey.”Paco laughed. “Cause it’s payback time, Bitch.”

“Point?”

“Okay. What do you make as a fancy-assed homicide detective?” Another annoying lip smack. “Bet it’s over 100 grand a year. So let’s say I take ten percent.” He sucked his lips three or four times. “Yeah, I like that. You pay me $10,000 a year to keep your nasty little secret.”

“I wouldn’t pay a dirtbag like you a dime.” Morgan shook his head in disbelief. 

“Oh, little piggy gonna play some hardball?” Paco chuckled. “Oink, oink.”

Morgan was losing his patience. “Did you kill those girls, Paco?”  

“I’ll tell you what, puerco. Give me the redhead puta you’ve been slapping it to. Convince that little money-making spinner to join my fold and I’ll call it even.” Another annoying lip-smacking. 

“You stay the fuck away from Kelly or I’ll bury you, you piece of shit.” It took all Morgan had to keep from ripping the little puke out from behind his desk.  

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. What do we have here? Has the naughty detective fallen for that sweet piece of puta ass?” Paco made a pouty face. “Pobrecito. Your girlfriend has a very dangerous profession. Anything could happen to her on the mean streets. She needs protection. My protection. Tell her to join my ladies.”

“You threaten her again, and you’ll be the one needing protection.”

Morgan stared at the man, keeping Paco focused on his face while he casually put his hands in his jacket pockets, securing the heroin syringe within. “Last chance, little Paco. Did you kill those hookers?”  

“Estupido. The farmer doesn’t kill the hens who are laying his golden eggs. So let me ask you. Did you kill my whores?”  

Morgan shook his head and turned to leave as the man called after him. “Seems to me you’re the most likely suspect, Bato. That’s why I didn’t even bother to hide my drugs. I got you by the balls, Harper and I’m squeezing.”

Squeezing my balls? Morgan had made it halfway across the room when the mouthy little man shouted out, again. 

“Bad choices, Harper.” Paco signaled to someone standing in the shadows. “I want $10,000 or that beautiful pelirroja and I’m not taking no for an answer. “

A dark figure stepped from the shadows and whacked the retreating Morgan across the face with a 2X4 board. With a sickening crack the detective went down. 

Morgan fought off passing out as he rose to his knees. He took a couple of kicks to the gut, dropping him again. This time he welcomed the wave of unconscious that overwhelmed him. 

“You want me to finish him, Boss?” 

“Nah, we don’t need the kind of heat that killing a cop would bring down on us. Besides, how’d I get my payment from him if he’s dead? Usa tu mente, Hugo.” Paco Sanchez sucked on his lips. “Throw that piece of garbage out in the alley with the rest of the basura.”

Character/Suspect List: 

Homicide Detective Morgan Harper - The heavily faulted main character who never recovered from the suicide of his wife.  

Kelly Pierson - a young, new to the game, prostitute who is frequented by Detective Morgan. 

Debra Harper - Morgan’s deceased wife who committed suicide.  

Tamra Burns- a crime scene technician who is Debra's identical twin.

Internal Affairs Officer Brian Anderson - Investigating Morgan Harper.

Homicide Detective Hutch Kelly - Morgan’s partner. 

Doctor Millison Parker - Morgan’s psychiatrist.

Paco Sanchez - A local pimp and street thug.

Mac Yung- Aggressive reporter. 

Steve Vance - Vicki's husband.

Vicki Vance - An old friend of Morgan and Debra’s.

Jennifer Collins - The first victim prostitute. 

Amy Henderson - The second victim prostitute.