Chapter 6 - Behind Door 4B
The hallway on the fourth floor smelled of smoke, beer, and fear.
Music pounded from Apartment 4B, so loud the floor seemed to vibrate beneath Arthur’s shoes. A broken lamp lay near the wall. Someone had smeared blood across the white paint beside Apartment 4A, where Arthur lived.
Chief Mercer raised one hand, signaling the officers to spread out.
“Police!” he shouted. “Open the door!”
The music continued.
No answer.
Arthur stood several steps behind them, exactly where the chief had told him to remain. But his gaze moved carefully across the hallway. He noticed the fresh scratches around the doorframe, the boot marks near the lock, and a woman’s torn sleeve lying half-hidden beneath the welcome mat.
Then came a muffled cry from inside.
Mercer’s face hardened.
“Breach it.”
Officer Reeves kicked the door once. Twice. On the third strike, the lock gave way and the door flew open.
Everything happened at once.
A man stumbled backward with a bottle in his hand. Another tried to run toward the kitchen. A young woman crouched near the couch, her face bruised, her arms wrapped around herself. Two other neighbors stood frozen near the wall, clearly forced there and terrified to move.
“Hands up!” Mercer shouted.
One suspect obeyed.
The other did not.
He lunged toward the kitchen drawer.
Arthur saw the movement before anyone else.
“Chief, left hand!”
Mercer turned just as the man pulled a small handgun from the drawer. Reeves tackled him from the side, slamming him against the counter. The gun skidded across the floor and stopped near Arthur’s feet.
For one terrible second, everyone looked at it.
Arthur did not touch it. He simply placed his shoe over it and said, “Weapon secured.”
The calmness of his voice seemed almost impossible inside the chaos.
Officer Carter rushed to the injured woman. “Ma’am, can you hear me?”
She nodded weakly.
“They said nobody would come,” she whispered. “They said Officer Miller promised them nobody would come.”
Mercer’s expression darkened.
Arthur looked toward the open apartment door. Several neighbors had gathered in the hallway now. Among them was Mrs. Alvarez, the woman whose emergency call had finally forced action.
She stared at Arthur with tears in her eyes.
“You were right,” she whispered. “You kept telling us to write everything down.”
Arthur gave her a small nod.
“Truth survives better when it has witnesses.”
As the suspects were cuffed, Mercer stepped into the hallway and made a call.
“I want Internal Affairs notified tonight,” he said. “And I want Officer Miller relieved of duty immediately.”
Arthur heard every word.
But then his eyes shifted toward the far end of the hall, where a young boy stood half-hidden behind the stairwell door, watching with terror.
May you like
The boy mouthed one sentence without sound.
“They have more officers.”
