Justice for Everyone

"I've told you what happened about a million times, Mrs. Anderson", Callum sighed.

"You were Ben's parole officer, Mr. Callum. I expected you to protect my son no matter what happens," Mrs. Anderson burst out.

It was true that Callum had told her what happened several times but she still couldn’t wrap her head around the story. Ben had just been released from jail on parole and was walking to Callum’s car when someone from behind had bashed Ben in the head with a baseball bat. When Callum turned around to see who it was he had only caught a glimpse of blond hair before he was bashed with the bat too. By the time he regained consciousness, Ben had several bruises on his body and his head was surrounded with so much blood, Callum had suspected he died from blood loss. 

Which is also what the autopsy report had said- blood loss.

"I told you ma'am-"

Mrs. Anderson cut in, "No. Don't you dare 'ma'am' me”, she sobbed. “You want to say that my son was killed the day he got out of jail? I didn't even get to see him! He was the only person I had left!!"

Callum scratched his head awkwardly, "Well...he was a gang leader..."

Mrs. Anderson held up her hand to silence him, "No matter what my Ben was, he has never hurt a single soul on purpose."

Callum shrugged, "Whatever you say, ma'am."

Mrs. Natasha Anderson sank down on her couch, her heart hammering in her chest. She barely heard Callum leave the house. She shook her head slowly and weeped. Who would do such a thing to her boy? Yes, he had just been released from jail but he went to jail because he took the blame of robbing a store so that his crew wouldn't have to go to jail. It didn't make sense, no.

God, I need a drink, Natasha thought. Her head was throbbing from interrogating Callum all day. She didn't understand what the parole officer had been doing instead of protecting Ben.

After she poured herself a drink, Natasha walked slowly to Ben's room. She peaked inside the room, as if frightened that Ben would yell at her to stop peeking.

But Ben is gone, Natasha thought, her eyes blurry with tears. She slumped to the floor and started to cry her heart out.

No. Crying would not help bring her boy back. Natasha wiped her tears with the back of her hand. All of a sudden, something awakened inside her and before she knew it, she was out of the door and in her car, driving to the police station.

She walked into the poorly lit police station and went to the front desk. Before she could even talk, the man sitting behind the desk barely looked up at her and said, "I don't have all day, miss. What do you need?"

Natasha was astonished at the way the man had addressed her, but she did not show it. Instead, she said, "I want to know what the police have been doing to find out who murdered my son."

The man still did not look up, "And who would your son be?"

"Ben Anderson."

That was when he looked up at her. Natasha tried not to squirm at the sight of him. The man in front of her was a hideous sight. He looked like he was in his 50s but his face said otherwise. One side of his face was so burnt that it was charred in black. The other side was sagging as if he was a hundred years old. He laughed and said, "We won't do anything for the likes of a gang leader."

Natasha narrowed her eyes at the old man, “What is that supposed to mean-”, she peered at the badge, “-Officer Sanders?”

A cold voice behind her replied, "It means that we won't be investigating his case."

Natasha turned around and narrowed her eyes at the man who spoke. She knew exactly who he was. His name was Jack Gomez but people knew him better as Detective Gomez.

"And why is that?", Natasha asked coldly.

Detective Gomez chuckled but his eyes held no laughter. "You know exactly why, Mrs. Anderson. Your son was a gang member. Wait, no, let me correct myself, a gang leader. And let's be honest, gang leaders have more enemies than politicians. Not to mention, I have had several cases in the past where gang members or leaders were killed by their own gang. So, I won't have my resources wasted on someone who was most likely killed by his own gang."

Natasha couldn't believe what she had just heard. Blood rushed to her eyes so fast that she couldn't hear anything but that. Yet she spoke calmly, "No matter what my son was, his first priority was to help his community and his people. I'm sure you recall the parks we had that were filled with so many gangs. It was my son Ben who used his position as a gang leader to call off all the other gangs. He did that so kids would have a place to play."

Detective Gomez waved a hand at her, "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. But I won't be wasting my resources on him."

Natasha stepped closer to him, until they were an inch away. "Mark my words, you will regret this, Gomez", Natasha breathed into his ear and walked away from him, not sparing a glance.

***

Natasha reread her tweet to make sure it was perfect.

“On July 11, my son Ben Anderson got out of jail on parole. He and his parole officer were walking to the car when Ben was hit in the head. When his parole officer, Callum turned around to see who it was, he was hit in the head too. By the time Callum gained consicousness, it was too late to save my boy. I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t see the killer behind bars. When I went to the police station to ask about the progress in Ben’s case, Detective Gomez was kind enough to tell me that there would be no investigation because Ben was a GANG LEADER. Yes, I realize my son was a gang leader but we must not forget what he has done for the community. He has used his position to help get rid of rival gangs from parks and community centers. So please, help me find justice for my son. #JusticeforBen”

Natasha kept rereading the tweet until her head throbbed in sync with her heartbeat. Finally, she hit “Tweet” and put her phone down. Suddenly tired, Natasha climbed into bed and turned the lights off, and drifted off into a dreamless sleep. 

Natasha awoke the next morning to the sound of notifications going off on her phone. She groaned and grabbed her phone from the bedside table to put it on silent mode when she saw over a hundred notifications from Twitter. Her heart leaped in her chest when she saw she had gotten hundreds of tweets and retweets. All the comments under her tweet flourished with support and encouragement for her to keep fighting for Ben and not lose hope.

The next few days, she was overwhelmed with thousands of replies and support. People were even organizing protests for her boy. Natasha didn’t realize how much her community was affected by this and it warmed her heart as she realized that she had people who cared about her son.

One morning as she was answering to the tweets, she heard faint shouts outside. The shouts grew louder and louder until there was a knock at her door. Hurriedly wrapping a bathrobe around her nightgown, Natasha opened the door. She was brought to tears by what she saw.

There were hundreds of people with slogans and posters that said JusticeforBen. Kids, grandparents, parents, everyone had come to support her and find justice for Ben. At the back of the crowd, Natasha caught glimpses of Ben’s gang holding signs and posters too. The person who knocked on the door was a dark-skinned lady about Natasha’s age.

Natasha’s voice broke, “I-”

The lady hushed her, “Hush, baby. We are here for you and your son. None of us have forgotten what he’s done for the community”, she held up a sign that had a picture of Ben that said ‘I demand Justice’, “It’s time we do something for him. Would you like to come protest with us at the police station?”

Natasha nodded, unable to speak as so many emotions took over her mind.

The walk to the police station had taken a little over 20 minutes but no one was exhausted. It was as if every step closer to the police station had increased everyone’s adrenaline. Most of all, Natasha’s. As the police station came within their eyesights, the people around her began their protests. The chant “Justice for Ben Anderson” grew louder and louder until police officers had to come out. But as they came out, Natasha could see their confused faces turn into rage. After some time, one officer went inside and came back with Detective Gomez at his heels. He searched through the big crowds of protestors until his eyes found Natasha. She smirked and raised her arms, as if to say, I warned you. 

Natasha slithered her way to the front of the crowd and raised a hand. The crowd fell silent, but it had felt as if the whole world around them had fallen silent. 

Natasha climbed the stairs and stood face to face with Detective Gomez. Even though Gomez was about half a foot taller than her, she felt as if she was looking down on him. 

Natasha spoke loud enough so that everyone would hear, “I demand justice for my son.” 

Gomez shook his head and laughed. His laugh was deep and low, the sound coming deep from his throat. The sound thrummed intensely in her bones and she shivered in her bathrobe, even though it was hot outside. Gomez looked at the crowd and then at her and said, “One protest won’t change anything, Mrs. Anderson. I stand by my choice.” 

Before Natasha could reply, Gomez faced the crowd and shouted, “I suggest you all leave before I have my officers escort you. Are we clear?”

The crowd blinked at him in silence and then started their protest chants as if nothing had happened. Now it was Natasha’s turn to laugh. Gomez’s face had become the color of a ripe tomato. He stomped inside and returned with about a dozen officers - armed. 

One would have thought that would scare the crowd, but the exact opposite happened. It was as if seeing those officers fueled their anger even more-Natasha included. Her voice joined the hundreds of voices chanting “Justice for Ben Anderson”. 

Gomez gave a sly smile, “You leave me no choice then.” He whispered to the officer next to him and nodded. Suddenly, tear gases were flying across the road. People began to cough and scramble as thick smoke swallowed their surroundings. Natasha felt her throat close and her eyes filled with involuntary tears. She began to rub her eyes to get rid of the irritation as she yelled, “Get out of here. We have to go back.”

Over the chaos, Detective Gomez found her amongst the crowd and grabbed her. “Best leave if you don’t want permanent injury, Mrs. Anderson”, he murmured in her ear. Natasha resisted the urge to slap him, she had more important things to do. She wrenched her arm free from him and helped people get away from the tear gases.

***

Detective Gomez had hoped that that would be the first and last protest about Ben Anderson. But he had misplaced his hope. It had been 2 weeks since Ben Anderson was murdered, but the protests grew louder and louder each day. By the end of the first week, rival gangs had joined the protest, without guns! Gomez had been shocked at the sight.

His police officers weren’t much help with controlling the protests. Most of them backed away as soon the crowd got close. Their eyes are wild with rage, they want justice. one of them had said. Gomez had threatened to arrest everyone if they didn’t stop, but no one listened to him. It was as if he was invisible.

Gomez came to work today, hoping it would be peaceful. But, he had misplaced his hope again. As he was making coffee, his ears picked up faint shouts from outside. He peered out the window in the coffee room and saw the biggest posters he had seen in his life. Ben Anderson’s face was plastered on every poster with a little comment on the side, ‘I demand justice’

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered to himself angrily. He pulled out the walkie-talkie from his back pocket and shouted, “All units to the front of the station. Control them.”

Within a second, blurs of blue ran to the front gate of the police station as kids and parents tried to shove their way in, Their chants had gotten even louder until Gomez had a splitting headache. At the front of the crowd he could see Ben’s mother pushing his way through to the officers, her eyes on Gomez. Her eyes were full of rage and hatred. She managed to shove through the last row of officers and walked straight to him, her stomping footsteps lost in the chanting.

Natasha Anderson was a beautiful woman for her age. Ebony skin with loose onyx curls around her shoulders, she was the image of a true queen. Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed at the sight of Gomez. She pointed at the policemen trying to control the crowd, then said, “All this can be over you know. You just have to say the word.”

Gomez sighed, “I’ll investigate your son’s death, Mrs. Anderson.” 

Natasha was taken back by his reply. Her eyes lingered on his face, searching for the lie. But there was none. “Protests scare you to do it?”, she smirked.

Gomez shook his head, “I looked into Ben’s profile and saw that he was a good kid and did tremendous things for the community. It didn’t seem right that his death would go unjustified, gang leader or no.”

“Took you long enough,” Natasha scoffed.

Gomez couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, “Well excuse me for thinking gang leaders are bad.”

That seemed to break the walls that Natasha had built around her. “That’s what all you people will ever think. My boy was anything but bad”, she whispered. 

Gomez softened a little and put a hand on her shoulder. He spoke softly, “Ben will be justified. I will make sure of that.”  

***

It didn’t take Detective Gomez more than a few days to catch Ben’s killer. The baseball bat had been found buried near the crime scene and he was able to extract fingerprints from there. The fingerprints had even surprised Gomez but as he dug deeper into the killer’s profile, it was no surprise.

At first, when Gomez told Natasha who it was, she did not believe a word. She shook her head and said, “No, no. That’s impossible. What could Ben have possibly done to him?”

All Gomez said was, “You better get to the station and ask him yourself. He’s in the interrogation room waiting to be transported to a federal prison.”

Natasha was out the door before he could finish the sentence and raced to the police station. It had taken a couple minutes to find the interrogation room but when she saw it, she was suddenly afraid to go in. This man had killed her son. She was suddenly afraid of him, even though she was surrounded by protection. Pushing her fear into the deepest corner of her mind, she opened the door. 

Callum looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His dark circles had become red from sleep deprivation and he was way thinner than the last time Natasha saw him. One hand was handcuffed to the chair he sat on. When he lifted his eyes to see who came in, there was nothing but resentment in them.

Natasha walked to the table and took a seat opposite to Callum. “How could you?”, she whispered, “What did my boy ever do to you?”

Callum’s words were as sharp as knives. “Do to me?”, he repeated, “He’s the reason my own son’s dead. You remember the store he robbed, don’t you? Police failed to mention that the cashier of the store was my son. And he shot him for just a couple of bucks. Andrew wouldn’t stop bleeding. Finally, my son died from too much loss of blood.” Then he shrugged, “I figured I would return the favor.”

Natasha’s head was spinning with questions. She grasped the handle of her chair for support. “But you said-when Ben died-you got hit in the head too-”

Callum cut in, “I had to make it believable, so after I hit Ben, I hit myself too.” Then suddenly he started laughing. It sounded like someone was choking him. “I had been waiting to kill him ever since he went to jail. And I guess God saw that I was in pain because I happened to be his parole officer,” he continued.

Natasha’s fear was replaced with boiling rage as she slammed a hand on the table, “If you knew what actually happened then you would know that Ben’s newbie members robbed the store and shot your son. The reason Ben went there was so that he can take the blame so that they wouldn’t get in trouble. He didn’t kill your son.” 

Callum looked at her in disbelief, “But-I-”

Natasha stood abruptly, “Save it for court, murderer,” she replied coldly. She slammed the door behind her before Callum could reply.