Jacob Muldrow sat in in his office. In front of him, on his wooden table, stood a bottle of cheap booze. It was a local product, the Downter Burner. Muldrow liked this brand of hard alcohol. The bottle was made of cheap brown glass and the label promised a guarantee that “Blindness after consumption is highly improbable”.
The appealing thing on the bottle to Muldrow was the taste of it. The main note of the liquor was the distinctive aroma of low price. The less appealing aspect of the bottle was its current emptiness.
Willing to rectify this state of affairs, Muldrow stood up from his chair. While he was at it, his state of drunkenness caused him to tumble a bit and the Chief of the Downter Constabulary tipped over the empty bottle. As no alcohol was spilled, the hazy mind of Muldrow registered his mishap, but it judged it as non-important.
His current goal was to get to his cabinet, where he suspected some more of the Downter Burner.
The chief’s office was equipped with a desk, a chair, a social sofa for guests who wouldn’t be coming and a low cabinet. This cabinet was supposed to contain files relevant for keeping order in Downter District and maybe some personal items belonging to the Chief.
Muldrow found a better use for it. He used it to store his liquor. There were some files as well, but they were carelessly tossed between the bottles. Muldrow has long forgotten about their content and as nobody ever asked for them, they probably didn’t have anything important in them.
Muldrow tumbled trough his office towards the cabinet and arriving in front of it he used his hand to lean himself against the wall. His other, free, hand tried to open the low cabinet. It took him several tries but finally the obstinate door opened up. Grabbing the next full bottle he didn’t bother to close the cabinet and looked for a suitable place to consume it.
His desk was several long steps away from him. But he found a much better candidate in the small sofa, which was a bit closer. Now equipped with the fragile glass bottle he carefully navigated himself along the wall, holding on to it for balance. After arriving close to his destination, Muldrow dropped his body onto the sofa.
Looking at his price, the fresh bottle of Downter Burner, he opened it with mechanical ease. This process was burned into his instincts after long years of heavy consumption so he had no difficulties doing that. Taking a hard gulp of the liquor he glanced out of the window behind his desk. There was nothing unexpected there. The weather was gloomy as always. Grey clouds cowered the sky.
“Why can’t the bloody sun shine on this saintsforgotten place. Just for once.” He mumbled drunkenly.
After securely closing the bottle and putting it beside the sofa, he lay down. Looking at the gray sky outside, he decided to take a nap. The sofa was not something you would call comfortable, but it was better than nothing. And his eyelids felt so heavy.
The sound of soft snoring soon filled the office.
----
Knock knock knock. Muldrow lay with one leg hanging over the side of the sofa. His arms were folded over his chest, having found a comfortable position during his sleep.
Knock knock knock. A silent grunt escaped his mouth. He tried to turn over away from the knocking sound.
Knock knock knock. This irritating insistence. Failing to turn over on his narrow place of rest Muldrow placed one arm over his aching head.
Knock knock knock. Hoping that he ignore the knocking sound away, Muldrow kept silent. Maybe they would think that he was away.
Knock knock knock. The Chief let out an annoyed sigh. He was probably going to loose this match in endurance.
Then there was silence. Had he won? Had the offending knocker given up? This he found highly agreeable. It wasn’t probably anything important. It never was.
SLAM SLAM SLAM.
“Chief Muldrow, I know that you aren’t away.” Sounded a female voice trough the closed door.
The addressed sat slowly up. He endured the sudden vertigo assaulting him. First silently but getting louder he answered.
“What in HELL IS IT?!”
“Chief, please open the door. Something has happened.”
Taking his aching head into his hands, Muldrow rubbed his face.
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“Miss Elena, what could possibly ever happen, that would require my attention?”
“Chief, would you kindly open the door?”
Muldrow slowly stood up and went to the locked door. He turned the key and turned away. On his was to his desk he picked up the bottle of booze. Having equipped himself, he poured the liquor in the waiting glass and sat down.
“Come in.”
The door to his office opened and in stepped a young woman. She had the uniform of a patrolman, although her unenviable position was the secretary to the Chief of the Downter Constabulary. She had a pale face with bleak blond hair, like most of the locals of Downter District.
Miss Elena stepped into the office and took a look around. She saw the disheveled sofa and the open cabinet. The booze bottles were clearly visible to her. Cementing her assumption of what happened in this room for the last few days were the empty bottles around the chief’s desk and the unmistakable smell of alcohol and sweat in the air.
The final confirmation for her came, when she looked at the man responsible for the poor state of this office. Jacob Muldrow sat crouched behind his desk. His uniform was wrinkled but otherwise clean. The man himself was sickly pale with sunken eyes. Deep eye circles surrounded his green eyes, which were starring at her in deep displeasure. His face was unshaven and carried a sour expression.
Her Chief gesticulated at her while drinking. This was her signal to speak.
“Chief, there seems to be trouble at the boarding houses. Several of our patrolmen are already there. It appears that about 50 workers from the Cannery are missing.”
Muldrow finished his glass.
“Well, if there are already several patrolmen, I am sure that they will be able to settle the matter to everyone’s satisfaction” He growled at her.
Miss Elena shook her head.
“No, Chief. There is a report about … flies. The patrolmen apparently aren’t able to approach the place of the incident. Additionally, a manager from the Cannery showed up and demanded that the Constabulary will fix this disturbance post haste. None of the present patrolmen feel that they are able to deal with him, Chief Muldrow. Now that manager is asking for you.”
Muldrow, who was about to refill his glass, stopped. Even he could not ignore the Cannery. Nobody in Downter could, if that person valued his continued career in this district. And while Muldrow was miserable in his current state, he was also comfortable in his misery.
“What was that about flies?” He asked his secretary.
“I am not sure. Patrolman Porter made the report and he wasn’t very specific.”
The Chief made a puzzled expression. There was no use in fighting it so he stood up.
“We’ll take the car. Miss Elena, you drive.”
Miss Elena quickly showed surprise, before she managed to hide it away.
“Yes, Chief!”
---
Muldrow was forced to blink several times as he exited the Constabulary. While the weather still was cloudy, he spend the last two or three days inside his office engaging in a binge. His eyes still needed a few moments to adjust to the light outside. Miss Elena was behind him.
Together they went to the car park. Muldrow entered his designated car and sat down on one of the backseats. He closed his eyes and reclined his head.
Seeing that her chief wouldn’t help her, Miss Elena went to the front of the car, pulled out a bar and started cranking. After a few tries, the motor finally sprang up to life. After returning the bar in its place, she entered the vehicle and pulled out the parking lot.
“Where did it happen?” Muldrow asked, eyes still closed.
“It was over at Artona Street, Chief. It will take a few minutes to get there.”
“Good.”
Muldrow grasped into the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small flask. He took a sip of the bitter alcoholic liquid inside. The thing about avoiding a hangover is to never stop drinking. And exactly this Muldrow has been doing for now two or three years. In fact he was convinced that he could not afford to stop drinking, as the cumulative hangover he amassed and managed to avoid till now would probably kill him on the spot.
Miss Elena saw her Chief drinking in the rear mirror. Her reaction wasn’t that of anger. Not even disgust or pity. Like the rest of the patrolmen and all those who worked at the Constabulary, it was simply resigned apathy.
---
The police car pulled up into Artona Street. The other patrolmen saw this and ushered aside the crowd of curious onlookers out of its way. After parking her vehicle, Miss Elena stepped out and took a look around.
The boarding house was surrounded by police separators. Around those stood about 20 patrolmen, controlling the crowd, talking to each other or just smoking. Patrolmen Porter and Sturner stood on the side, talking to a priest of the Ecclesiate. With them was a man in a suit, looking very unhappy with the situation.
The crowd around the scene was talking in hushed voices or just starring curiously at the boarding house and the surrounding men from the Constabulary.
Then she heard the backdoor of the car opening and Muldrow stepping out. Muldrow straightened himself and his jacket the best he could.
“This is the place?”
“Yes, Chief. We had the place restricted for several hours now. No one is sure how to proceed now.”
Muldrow grunted in answer and approached Porter and his group. Miss Elena followed him. The other patrolmen noticed the arrival of their chief, but didn’t seem to care otherwise about it.
Sturner noted the approaching duo and gave Porter a sign. Porter turned his head and when the distance closed he spoke to Miss Elena.
“There you are Elena. We are quite in a gridlock here.”
Glancing at Muldrow he just commented.
“Chief.”
“Can you tell me what happened, patrolman Porter? Your report was quite vague.”
She inquired.
“Well, we were alerted on the early afternoon by one of the wives of the workers inside. We tried to get in but there are just thousands of flies coming out every time we try open the door. One guy, a foreman from the Cannery, was brought to the district hospital.”
The priest in attendance nodded and took over.
“The priests serving in the hospital told me that it seems he swallowed hundreds of flies. Besides this, he should be fine. I am more worried about the 56 workers inside.”
“I am priest Cornelius, by the way. I am glad to make your acquaintance.”
The man in the suit interrupted.
“Yes, thank you, esteemed priest, but can you people do something already. You have been standing around here for several hours now. My superiors from the central districts want to know why the production was disrupted. And they want to know the fate of our workers. We need to know, whether this incident will have influence on the hygiene and safety of our other workers. I requested the presence of your chief. Is this him?”
Porter, Sturner and Elena all looked at Muldrow, who was listening silently till now.
“Yes, that would be me. I am Chief Muldrow.”
“Then, Chief Muldrow, what do you intend to do about this situation?” The manager asked in a skeptical tone after noticing Muldrow’s poor appearance.
“You all told me that there were flies?”
Porter and Sturner nodded.
“Then let’s call the exterminator.”
