Queen Takes Pawn

By Greg Hansen

In the bustling yet surprisingly low-crime setting of Northern New Jersey, Detective Harry Kim yearns for a break from the routine alongside his partner. However, their mundane duties take a dark turn when a mysterious phone call disrupts the peace. In the sweltering summer heat, a woman confesses to Harry that a man named Charles Parker murdered Rico Perez, and she, in turn, killed Parker. Just before she ends the call, she leaves Harry with a cryptic message— "Queen takes pawn."
Initial suspicion for the murders falls on Perez's ex-wife, but her solid alibi and the lack of other suspects deepen the enigma. As a series of increasingly bizarre murders unfolds, each intricately linked to Aztec mythology, Harry receives chilling phone calls from the killer, framing the killings as moves in a deadly chess game. The revelation that Parker orchestrated the murders before his own demise leaves Harry and his partner at a confounding impasse.
Under mounting pressure to crack the case, Harry succumbs to corruption, forming a dubious alliance with a mob lawyer to falsely implicate a suspect, leading to deadly consequences. As Harry grapples with the fallout, the truth gradually unravels, presenting him with a moral quandary. He must choose between letting the killer escape or destroying the lives of those he cares about, including his own.
In a riveting tale of crime, mythology, and ethical dilemmas, Detective Harry Kim navigates a perilous path where each decision carries profound consequences, forcing him to confront his inner demons and make an impossible choice between justice and personal sacrifice.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Greg Hansen
• Release date: Mar 6, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224328383

Greg Hansen

I have been the leader of an artificial intelligence group, a modeling and simulation professional, NSA analyst, certified ethical hacker, white water kayak instructor, pickleball instructor and former police commissioner. I have published six non-fiction books, two with Prentice Hall. I am now venturing into the field of general fiction, calling on my experience in AI to develop a harrowing view of the future, as well as my experience as a police commissioner to detail methods of criminal investigation.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

One day this fog will lift, but now you gotta deal with it, Harry muttered to himself, his reflection in the bathroom mirror carrying the weight of an unseen burden. The dark eyes, shadowed even more today, seemed to reflect the somber mood that enveloped him.

Monday mornings, with their ritual contemplation of a beard that never materialized, became moments of introspection. The temptation lingered, a fleeting thought of change, but he dismissed it, fearing the association with on-screen villains.

Grow the beard, for crissake, he mumbled, attempting to break the monotony. Do anything to change up your life. A moment of contemplation hung in the air, then a dismissive, Nah.

Sighing, he lathered his face, razor in hand, eradicating the two-day stubble. Exiting the warm cocoon of the bathroom, the abrupt transition to the cool embrace of air conditioning emphasized the stark reality. Rushing to the chest of drawers for his daily essentials, his gaze lingered on the lower drawer, bearing habitual foot-induced closures – dark smudges marring the surface. A glance at his wife's side revealed an immaculate counterpart.

The furniture, once a source of budget-friendly amusement during IKEA assembly, now stood as a silent witness to the passage of time. The 'eggshell' paint, undeniably white to Harry, held sentimental memories. Luz, his wife, had found joy in his muttered curses during the assembly process.

Three years later, an unexpected declaration shattered the comfort of routine. Luz, clad in black lingerie, confessed her dissatisfaction with their life. The monotonous routine of daily existence had eroded her contentment.

Clothed in black panties and a matching bra, Luz's purposeful approach brought an air of tension. Standing close, she whispered, It's the same thing every day. Get up. Go to work. Come home. Have dinner. On the weekends, it's always – what can we do with Katy? What about me? She's gonna be fifteen for Christ’s sake. I wanna do something for me.

Acknowledging her desire for change, Harry suggested a second honeymoon. His proposal aimed to rekindle the spark and break free from the mundane. Luz's eyes lit up at the idea of South Beach, momentarily lifting the fog that lingered over their lives. Yeah, she responded. Yeah. I'd like that. Set it up. Yet, the unspoken heaviness remained, casting a shadow over the prospect of newfound excitement.

####

Harry slipped into his slightly disheveled blue suit jacket, complemented by a pale blue shirt, a gray tie, and a pair of black jeans before emerging from his bedroom into the kitchen. The highlight of his morning awaited him there – his daughter, Katy, perched at the kitchen table. Observing how she had blossomed into a grown woman never failed to bring a sense of joy, and her ever-present smile served as a constant source of happiness. Were it not for Katy and her consistently positive demeanor, he might have succumbed to despair some time ago.

Katy had inherited the finest traits from both Harry and his wife – a rich mocha complexion, almost perfectly straight black hair, and distinct Asian eyes. She had also acquired his height; at five-ten, she stood only four inches shorter than him, an unusual height for a woman with Asian heritage.

Good morning, Dad, Katy greeted. You look like a movie star. A tough guy, you know?

Harry smiled and planted a kiss on Katy's cheek. And you look like the romantic lead in a movie, he remarked.

You always say that, Katy laughed.

’Cuz it’s true, Harry insisted. What’s for breakfast?

Oatmeal.

Of course.

A cup of coffee also awaits your attention.

Thanks. I need it on Mondays more than any other day.

You look good, Katy complimented. You’re at your ideal weight now. That’s down thirty pounds in the last six months.

I know, Harry acknowledged. I grumble, but I do appreciate you forcing me to eat right.

Are you coming home for lunch? Katy inquired. I can make something for you.

I probably will, Harry replied. Thanks for the offer. What’s your schedule?

I’m off to class for most of the day, Katy shared. If I work hard, I can rack up more than twelve credits before I even start school. I should be able to graduate law school by the time I’m twenty-one.

Taking the bus?

Uh huh. I don’t want to drive on these crazy Jersey roads.

I agree, Harry nodded.

Katy placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of Harry and took a seat across from him. In a soft voice, she began, Dad.

Not now, Katy, Harry interrupted. Tell me about your volleyball tournament.

We won, Katy exclaimed with delight. Ling Ling was like a water bug, skittering all over the place and digging out balls. She set me up so many times; it was amazing.

Great, Harry replied. If I may ask – what did you wear?

My purple bikini, Katy answered. I got a lot of attention.

I bet, Harry said. He didn’t like the idea of Katy romping around in a bikini, but he kept his opinion to himself. Bikinis, it seemed, were the de rigueur dress code for female volleyball players, so saying anything would have been a waste of time.

There was one guy who was a bit of a jerk, Katy said. "Every time I dove for a ball and had to wipe the sand off my body, he offered to help. I can give you a hand, sweetie, he would say. Things like that. He made me uncomfortable, but then I heard someone say – you know, her father is a cop. Then the guy disappeared."

Good, Harry said. You’re going to find that the jerks are going to become more frequent.

I suppose, Katy said. But, I have to admit, I…I kind of liked the attention I was getting. I, um…

I get it, Harry said just before shoving a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth.

How was your camping trip? Katy asked. I don’t know why you want to go off by yourself the way you do, but…whatever. Did anything interesting happen?

Yes, Harry said. A group of kids from Quebec joined me on the first night. Two girls and three guys. They were trying to do as much of the Appalachian Trail as the could before heading back. They all got high right away and freaked when they learned I was a cop. I assured them that I didn’t care. One girl named Marta, she was nineteen, sat with me and we talked. She as very pretty and had a great French accent. Just before it was totally dark out, she said that she wanted to clean up a bit. She poured some water on a wash cloth, took off her top, and wiped down her body. She, um, wasn’t wearing anything under her top, you know.

Oh, my God, Katy said, giggling. Was she…um…sexy?

Very, Harry said. "She was also amused at the look of astonishment on my face. She told me attitudes toward nudity were different in Quebec. I laughed and said, I guess so. Anyway, she and I sat up most of the night and talked. These kids were all pretty ripe so the next day offered to get them a cheap motel room so they could clean up. We hiked down off the mountain to the town below where, after I found a motel room, I bought them pizza and beer. This girl, Marta, asked me if I could get another room. She, um, said that she liked older men and wanted to make love to me."

Katy stared at Harry for a few long seconds. You got home after I went to bed, she said. So…did you?

No, Harry said.

Why not?

She was nineteen.

And?

It…it just didn’t seem right. It seemed…I don’t know.

I’m glad you didn’t, Katy said. There was no reason why you couldn’t, but…I guess I share your concept of right and wrong. You always do the right thing.

Yeah, Harry said. Whatever. Of course, there’s… He held up his ring finger.

It’s time for you to get over Mom, Katy said.

I know. I know.

It’s crazy that you climb up a mountain to sleep in the woods every weekend, Katy said. Maybe you could spend one with me. We could do stuff together.

You’d be bored with me, Harry said. And you have your volleyball.

You could come and watch, Katy said.

I seem to remember that you told me not to, Harry said, laughing. You said I made you nervous.

Hmmm, Katy pondered. I guess I did, didn't I? Well, I've changed my mind. She extended her hand across the kitchen table, gently touching Harry's left hand. Maybe it's time you took your ring off.

Tomorrow, Harry replied.

It's been 'tomorrow' for a long time, Katy observed.

I need... a reason, Harry explained.

Katy's eyes lit up. Ling Ling's parents just got divorced, she suggested. Her mom is really cute and...

Let me find the reason, Harry interjected, waving his hand. I promise you I... I'll... whatever.

Okay, Katy acquiesced. Just trying to help.

Harry finished his oatmeal, amusing Katy as he licked the bowl. I thought you hated oatmeal, she remarked.

I do, Harry chuckled. I'm gonna brush my teeth and get going.

I'm leaving now, too, Katy announced. See you tonight.

'Kay, Harry replied. Be safe.

####

Harry sauntered leisurely towards the station house, feeling no urgency in the warm yet pleasant morning. Deciding to take a detour, he paused at a Cuban bakery and ordered an iced espresso, resisting the temptation for a pastry, mindful of Katy's potential disapproval.

The early hours of summer were Harry's favorite time of day. The temperature was just right, the streets were uncrowded, and he could leisurely peer into store windows. He knew that the day would inevitably become hotter, and the streets would transform into bustling thoroughfares. Living in the densely populated northern region of New Jersey meant only a brief respite from the constant activity each day.

Upon entering the station house, he acknowledged Sergeant Klein, the man on desk duty. Klein, like many others in the same position, was counting down to an early retirement due to an on-the-job injury. Elevator fixed yet? Harry inquired.

Nope, Klein replied. Gotta walk up.

Normally I wouldn’t mind, Harry remarked, but I spent the weekend camping, and I’m sore. Oh, well.

God invented beds so we wouldn’t have to sleep on the ground, Klein offered. That’s my theory, at least.

Good theory, Harry agreed. See you later.

Harry ascended three flights of stairs, albeit at a slow pace, reaching the area filled with desks that he dubbed the bull pen. Glancing up at the new air conduits lining the ceiling, he muttered, I thought they were gonna turn on the air today.

On his way back to his desk, he approached Jimmy Rodriguez, the department's youngest and arguably most handsome detective at thirty-two. Taller than Harry, with dark skin, dark hair, and inexplicably pale blue eyes, Jimmy exuded a quiet charm that, Harry suspected, drew considerable attention from women. Despite this, Jimmy rarely shared details about his private life. Hey, Hot Rod, Harry greeted.

Jimmy looked up. Sir?

I thought they were gonna turn on the air today.

I heard there’s some problem with it.

Jesus. It only took a hundred years to get it installed. It’ll probably take another hundred to get it fixed.

Jimmy laughed. Yeah. Maybe after the summer, huh?

Yeah. I’m going to see the Captain. Then I think I’ll do some community bonding.

Good idea, Jimmy nodded. Hey, wait a second. I happened to catch your daughter playing volleyball this weekend. She…um…was getting a lot of attention, you know?

Uh huh, Harry mumbled.

Anyway, Hot Rod continued. There was some guy harassing her, making crude comments, you know? So I said to the guy – you know, her father is a cop, a real bad dude. I’d watch your step. The guy slinked away pretty fast.

Thanks, Harry acknowledged.

Don’t mention it, Hot Rod insisted. She’s really gorgeous, you know.

Harry sighed. I know. She’s going to attract more and more jerks, I’m afraid.

Yeah, Jimmy agreed. But from what you’ve told me, she knows how to handle herself.

I hope so, Harry said. Well, off to see the Captain.

Navigating the labyrinth of desks, he exchanged brief greetings with the officers he passed until he reached Captain Mike Miller’s office. Good morning, Mike, he greeted.

Mornin’ Harry, Miller replied. What’s up?

I don’t have much going on, Harry reported. I thought I’d get out among the people before it gets too hot.

Okay, Miller said. Go to the park and make sure no one’s camped out there.

Harry chuckled. I went camping this weekend, he said. In my opinion, sleeping on the ground is punishment enough.

Funny, Miller responded. After lunch, make sure you do the report on the stolen bicycle.

Yeah, yeah, Harry dismissed. As he heard Miller laughing as he exited the room, he wondered how long he would hear about the bicycle incident.

Stepping outside the station house, Harry pondered his route. He turned left and, upon reaching the corner, veered right. This path would lead him past several small businesses, allowing him to engage with the owners and ensure everything was in order. One common complaint he often heard was that of employees stealing from their employers, a matter that typically found resolution with a personal visit from Harry to the offending employee.

After an hour of casual strolling and conversations, he arrived at the park around 10. A few regular chess players were already engaged in their games, and one player, an old man with a scraggly beard and gravelly voice named Froggy, waved to him.

Hey, Detective, the man called.

Harry meandered over and greeted him, Hello, Froggy.

Wanna play? Froggy asked.

Too boring, Harry dismissed.

You have to think of it like it's war, Froggy insisted.

I suppose, Harry conceded. But it's just not my thing. Anything going on in the park?

Nah, Froggy replied. Pretty quiet. The uniform guys came through earlier. That usually gets all the bums going.

Good, Harry said. Well, see you.

He paused to observe some little kids fishing, smiling when their delighted screams accompanied the retrieval of a three-inch fish. Harry wondered if anyone ever consumed what they caught in the pond. He hoped not – the water looked like a toxic waste dump, despite the county's efforts to clean it up.

Harry spent another hour idling before heading to his condo. Once inside, he stripped down to his underwear and commenced a workout with free weights – ten sets of ten reps for each exercise. It took about an hour to complete, after which he lay on the carpet, staring up at the ceiling.

####

Harry’s mind drifted back to the time he and Luz took their trip to South Beach. He knew that the second they spread their towels on the beach her top would come off. He wasn’t wrong.

Remember how you spread lotion of me? Luz asked.

Do I ever, Harry said.

Put out your hands, she said. After she shot a blob of lotion into his palms, she turned around. Do my back.

He slowly and carefully covered every inch of her back. When she turned around to face him, she said, Do my front.

We could get in trouble for this, he said.

I don’t care, she said. Do you?

Harry swallowed hard. No, he said.

Do you think my tits are sagging? Luz asked.

Not at all, he said. And they feel as good as ever.

Let’s go in the water and fuck, Luz said.

Harry knew that everyone on the beach watching them were aware of what they were doing, but it didn’t matter. They weren’t the only ones.

He smiled at that memory, and the memory of them going clubbing. The outfit she wore was almost transparent and, when she turned certain ways, gave anyone looking a perfect view of her breasts.

She got a lot of looks.

On their second night, she allowed men to flirt with her. That bothered Harry a bit, but he kept quiet. Later, in bed, she told him, I like it when guys hit on me. It turns me on.

Their lovemaking was rough, almost violent. Luz urged him on, telling him to go faster and harder. Suddenly she pushed him away, rolled onto her stomach and, in a husky voice, said, Do it.

####

The weekend had been extraordinary until they reached the airport. Luz appeared lost in thought as they awaited their flight. Just before boarding, she turned to Harry and uttered, This changes nothing.

What do you mean? Harry inquired.

I still want my life to change, Luz declared.

Harry felt crushed. For the following week, he pleaded with Luz to share what he could do to bring happiness into her life. One day, while en route to the station, he realized he forgot his phone. Upon entering the kitchen, he discovered Luz snorting a line of cocaine.

What the heck? he shouted. What the heck? I’m a cop, for heaven's sake. Have you thought about that?

Luz shrugged. Arrest me, she challenged. Then she laughed. Put me in handcuffs.

You’re stopping right now, he asserted through clenched lips.

No, Luz insisted. I’m not.

I’ll find your dealer and deal with him, Harry threatened.

Luz laughed, finding his comment hilariously amusing. Good luck with that, she retorted. Then she pivoted, her eyes cold, and coldly stated, Stay out of my business.

It’s not just your business, he argued. It's our business. We're a family, remember?

Luz shrugged indifferently. If you want a divorce, get one. She brushed past him, casually adding, I may or may not be home for dinner.

And so began the unraveling of their relationship.

####

As he lifted himself off the floor, his gaze lingered on the photograph of him and Luz all dolled up. It captured a moment from some past event, now a hazy memory for Harry. She wore her typical attire – a silk blouse paired with a short miniskirt. Harry mused that she had every reason to dress that way; her legs practically demanded it. He anticipated that Katy, too, would eventually embrace such attire, although, for the time being, she was content in jeans.

Recalling Katy's earlier mention of enjoying the attention she received, Harry pondered that Luz, too, relished it a bit too much.

Please, God, he mumbled. Although Harry had long given up on God, he added, Or whoever is listening. Please don’t let Katy grow up to be like Luz.

Heading towards the shower, he declared, It’s time I got over you, Luz.

After a few more seconds of staring at the photo, he appended, Maybe tomorrow.

CHAPTER TWO

Upon his return to the station, Harry delved into his crime reports, detailing incidents that didn't lead to charges. To pass the time, he embellished the facts, adding as much detail as possible to each report.

Then came the bicycle incident.

A chuckle escaped Harry as he recalled the absurdity of the situation. Two elderly neighbors, residing side by side for over four decades, engaged in a prolonged feud. The latest spat involved one accusing the other of pilfering his bicycle. Much to Harry's dismay, he received the call to investigate.

First on his list was Mr. Jonah Horowitz, the man who reported the incident. Normally cheerful, Horowitz turned sour when complaining about his neighbor. What makes you think he took your bike? Harry inquired.

He just about told me he did, Horowitz replied.

Next, Harry approached Mr. Vito Morelli, the opposite of Horowitz—tall, grumpy, and usually energized by their arguments. Did you take his bike? Harry asked.

Yeah, Morelli admitted.

Why? Harry queried.

We got five feet between our houses, Morelli explained. His trash can is more than thirty inches wide. Part of it is on my side!

Why do you care? Harry pressed. You put your trash can on the other side of your house. It’s not like his is in the way.

It’s the principle of the thing, Morelli declared.

Sighing, Harry instructed, Where’s the bike?

In my basement.

Get it, Harry ordered. Then you and Horowitz are gonna have a talk with me.

Morelli stomped off and returned with the bike after a couple of minutes. Harry, meanwhile, brought Horowitz outside. With all three gathered, Harry said, Walmart has square trash cans that are less than thirty inches wide. They even have wheels. Each of you is going to get as many of those cans as you need. I don’t want to hear any more of this crap, okay? If I do, I’ll cite each of you for disturbing the peace. Got it?

Wait a minute, Morelli protested. Why do I have to get a new trash can?

Because you’re a pain in the ass, Harry retorted. And because I said so.

Horowitz burst into laughter, but Harry intervened. You’re a pain in the ass, too, he asserted. This is the last time I want to hear about trash cans, okay?

Okay, Morelli grumbled.

Yeah, yeah, Horowitz added.

All right, then, Harry concluded. I’ll see you around. As he distanced himself from the men, he laughed. He had issued warnings to those two dozens of times, knowing it would be another few months before the station received another trivial call from one of them. Harry realized it was what kept them going.

Despite his grumbling, Harry didn't mind investigating these neighborly disputes. It at least got him out and about.

Harry delved into the stack of reports, reserving the stolen bike report as his final task. His plan was to inject a bit of humor into the narrative, guaranteeing a good laugh for anyone in the station who bothered to read it.

Before launching into the typing, Harry found himself staring at his computer screen, perusing the latest crime reports for his jurisdiction. Nothing, he muttered. His gaze shifted to the peeling grey-green paint on the walls, and he sighed. Maybe the boredom wouldn’t be so bad if we had a nice, bright workplace, he whispered to himself.

A flickering neon light, in need of a new electrode, cast an erratic glow overhead, lending an almost eerie quality to the wall Harry was scrutinizing. It’s like some cheap-ass horror movie in here, he remarked.

Harry's fingers danced across the keyboard as he put the finishing touches on the stolen bicycle report. After saving the report, he sent it to a printer, retrieved it, signed it, and added it to a towering to be filed pile—now about a foot high. He rolled his eyes and quipped, Whatever happened to save the trees?

On his way back to his desk, he paused by Rodriguez. Do we have any open cases?

No, sir, Jimmy replied. The last serious one was the domestic violence case, and we got that taken care of in a day. There’s always the drug overdoses, but no one ever owns up to where they get their stash.

Harry rolled his eyes and scoffed. We know where they get them, but we can never make a case.

I know, Jimmy agreed. Even when we do, it gets tossed.

You’d think this part of Jersey would have a lot of crime, Harry observed. Being across from New York and all.

Right, Jimmy acknowledged. Everyone here is just trying to make it to the next day. They’re too tired to get into trouble.

The demographic is getting younger every year, Harry remarked. They’re more interested in having fun. It’s getting hot out, though. Things will pick up. Crime always goes up in the heat. You know, guys arguing over who has parked too close to their car. Important stuff like that.

Ha, Jimmy chuckled. I hope something happens. Nothing serious, you know? Anything. I could use some OT.

Well, Harry said, we have an hour left on our shift. If something's gonna happen, it better happen soon, or else it’ll go to Mulligan and Steiner. I think they’re up next.

####

A few blocks away, Rico Perez, standing at a towering six feet two inches, knelt in a doorway leading from a hallway to a living room. Seventy-year-old Charlie Parker sat in a recliner, aiming his .45 semiautomatic at Perez. A petite woman stood behind Perez, brandishing an antique knife under his chin.

Is that all of it? Parker inquired.

That's all I know, Perez responded.

Are you sure?

Yeah, I'm sure, Perez affirmed.

Parker nodded to the woman. You can take a step back, honey, he said.

The woman cautiously lowered her arm holding the knife and retreated.

Okay, Perez, Parker said. You can stand up now.

Can I get my package?

Maybe we'll get it for you, Parker retorted.

You know, you're in big trouble when Mendoza finds out about this, Perez added as he began to stand up.

When he attempted to turn his head to look at the woman, Parker commanded, Look straight at me.

Fine, Perez said. I don't know who your little companion is, but I'll find out. When I do, I'll take care of her myself. Now what, old man?

Parker didn't utter a word. He simply pulled the trigger on his gun.

Perez staggered for a second before falling backward.

The woman leaned over Perez and examined his body. He's dead, she declared. Nice shot. Right in the heart. There won't be much bleeding.

That was the plan, Parker said. So, my time in 'Nam paid off, right? I learned how to shoot. Now, the rest is up to you.

I...I don't...

You must. You agreed.

I know. I know.

Then...you carry on.

Are you...are you sure?

Yes, Parker said. "I've waited too long as it is. Have you