Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Mugshots #5 - All Blondes Look Alike by Lyman Feero

Officer Delivar looked up from his coffee long enough to see a pack of pros escorted into booking. They were deposited onto a wooden bench. He recognized three as regulars. The other two were new. He guessed that the leggy brunette with the bad teeth must have jumped into town from somewhere else. Cuffs were as familiar as cheap bracelets to her. The young blonde, however, kept her head down and was crying. The three regulars rode her hard; too many ten-dollar hand jobs had stolen their sympathy.

"They're all yours." The new vice officer dropped the initial paperwork onto his desk. "Blondie doesn't have I.D. and she'll only give us her street name."

"Thanks loads." He pretended to rifle through the papers while eying the mini-skirts that lined the bench. He stood and made his way around the desk. He cleared his throat and began his spiel.

"Ladies, you will be fingerprinted, photographed and searched. Let's do this the easy way.” He never looked at their faces.

"You ain't searchin' nothing, Honey," the oldest pro said.

A female officer stepped out of a side office, carrying a pair of blue latex gloves. He grinned.

"Now would be the time to let me know if you're allergic to latex. Shacoco, do you even know what latex is?" The pro dressed in faux fur and PVC gave him the finger. He never took his eyes off Blondie. She looked vaguely familiar.

"We'll start with you on the end."

He approached the blonde girl and bent down to uncuff her. She smelled of his wife’s perfume. He could feel her tremble against him as he leaned in further. It wasn't a grope and it would never stand up in court. It was his way of feeling her heat against him. She refused to look at him as he led her from the bench to the fingerprinting table. Her hands shook as he rolled each finger in the ink, then across the print sheet. Her hands were rougher than he expected. He almost felt sorry for her. He caught a glimpse of her face as he rolled her thumb. There was definitely something familiar. He led her from the print table to the camera. He left her standing against the white wall and its black markings. As he arranged the numbers, he followed her legs straight up to her almost too perky tits. He passed her the numbered tablet and told her to hold it up just above her breasts.

He adjusted the camera and watched the monitor as the image came into focus. Her hair obscured her face.

"Brush that hair away from that pretty face,” he said in saccharine tones.

With that, she snapped her head up and her hair parted. The feeling of familiarity washed over him. Something about the eyes. He looked at the image on the screen, at first only seeing a scared young woman, but behind the streaked mascara and pancake make-up was his son.


Anonymous said...

Lyman Feero: master of horror, dark SF and now nasty crime fiction.

Angry in L.A. said...

Well that sucks...no pun intended.

click here for sex addict support

Modern Man said...

"Politicians, ugly buildings and whores all get respectable if they last long enough."

-Noah Cross in 'Chinatown'

"Was she a pro?"
"At this point we don't know."

-'Sexual Perversity in Chicago' by David Mamet

Hey! Someone read me... please

JD Rhoades said...


Anonymous said...

Very tasty!

anne frasier said...

that was great!!

Lyman said...

Thanks all. This was my first stab at crime fic and only my second flash piece. Much thanks to Stephen and Patrick for hatching this idea. I think the two should edit an antho of mugshot flash.

Anonymous said...

Stephen said...
"And send me your mugshot story. Slacker."

I sent it to you yesterday morning and resent it a couple of hours ago. I'm not sure why it isn't getting to you.

inkgrrl said...

Beautifully done. That blonde sure is getting a lot of mileage. And looks it.

Anonymous said...

The first mugshot I tried writing was the blonde's. But all I could manage to get out was this:

"I'm sorry, okay? God!"

Rob Gregory Browne said...

Love this one.

Junee said...