Mike Rowan smiled at his partner, Ed Murrow, as he saw him bending
over reading by the roof light in the crown of the police cruiser, his eyes
were squinting causing the crows feet to be come more noticeable and his
brow more furrowed. He was reading his horoscope in the paper to tell him
of tomorrows forecast for himself.
They had been parked on this narrow side street, on a stakeout looking
for a gang causing a lot of problems, called the Scarecrows. Many
harrowing crimes had been happening lately. They were a group,
growing by leaps and bounds, accompanied by growling dogs,
trained to make any victim cower when they were prowling
the streets, using their prowess to frighten even grown men.
Avoiding crowded places they struck in places overgrown with trees
so they could jump out and overthrow their victims with ease.
Rowan frowned at Murrow saying , I think we have to move down the
street to where it is narrower and perhaps we can be less noticeable.
We're getting nowhere here, and I don't want to browbeat you Murrow,
but turn the light off shining on the bald spot on the crown of your head,
it's casting a light of its own. The Scarecrow gang or any of their
brown nosing friends spying for them, have probably spotted us.
Rowan turned on the engine, the Crown Victoria, made a growling sound
crawling down the narrow roads, past row on row of houses, overcrowded
on their land and found a spot not drowned in light. He cautioned Murrow
not to light the cigarette in his hand. Murrow's brow furrowed, as he
frowned at his longtime friend and partner. Okay, he said, I don't want to
crowd your space, so I am going to get out and take a walk down the
road a bit and have a smoke. He got out of the Crown Vic, and walked
down the street, standing hidden under the tree cover, to drown out
the sight of his lighter flame and the growing cigarette ash.
With out any warning, Murrow went down with one blow from a crowbar,
to the crown of his head. The scarecrow gang, had made their score
Murrow gasped for breath, his head bleeding, his body writhed for a
few moments, feeling the life force leaving him. He had grown still now,
his brow no longer furrowed and his crows feet around his eyes smoothed,
as death took him and he saw a narrow path of light with rows of lights to
follow. He felt no pain.
Rowan could no longer see Murrow, he got out of the Crown Vic, frowning
with growing fear right to his bone marrow. He went toward the
undergrowth where his friend went to have a smoke, and saw his
lifeless body thrown upon the ground. Rowan, felt sorrow grip his heart.
Tears filled his eyes and a low growl escaped his lips.
Murrow would have no tomorrows to worry about