PARALLEL

                                                          PARALLEL
                                                      CHAPTER ONE
                                                        The Rebirth
                                                     
    Jack Peterson killed himself, then he was arrested for murder; Confused? Good, then read on. Jack Peterson, or rather, Detective Jack Peterson was the pride of the force. He had been responsible for seventy five percent of precinct thirteen’s arrest record. He was the proud recipient of several commendations and two medals which he had received from the mayor. But alas, that was then, this was now, now sitting at his desk was an untidy unshaven former shadow of Detective Jack Peterson, how? Why?
   
    In order to answer both of those questions we have to go back, back to the year 2009. One year ago, that was when it happened, that was when his world fell apart. Christmas Eve, a day that would be etched in his memory forever, Jack could remember it as if it were yesterday. He played it over in his mind every day since it had happened. No matter how hard he tried, he knew that nothing that he could have done would have changed the end result. His wife of one year had died that night, if only, if only, these words played over and over in his mind. But the truth of it was that there was nothing that he could have done, sadly the only person that did not realise that was Jack.
 
    Wait a minute, how could he know that he there was nothing that he could have done, but then sit and think that he could have, are we talking split personality?  Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact split personality would be easier to accept than the actual truth. For this man who was now a former shadow of himself, a man that had sunk into the depths of a bottle to help him through his pain. Around the corner was waiting the biggest wake up call of all, one that would either make or break him?


    Although Jack lived and worked in Manhattan, he was not a native, he was actually Scottish.  He arrived at Manhattan by boat, one on which he had stowed- away. He was a fresh faced fifteen year old, ready to take on the world. But he unfortunately only made it as far as the dock gates; that was where he was promptly apprehended by Sergeant Murphy. Murphy however felt kinship to this skinny little Scottish kid, being an Irish immigrant; he too had arrived in Manhattan under similar circumstances to Jack’s. So feeling somewhat sympathetic towards Jack, he decided to take him under his wing.
 
    So Jack moved in with Murphy and his wife along with their six kids, somewhat overcrowded, but no-one seemed to mind. Murphy had wanted a son but alas, it was not to be, God had decided to bless him with six girls. Thus Jack became the son that he never had. Murphy would relate his day to Jack, serving on the police force even in those days could be dangerous. But Murphy never related any of the nasty stuff to Jack; instead he related all the good stuff, painting a pretty picture. So when Jack turned twenty it was inevitable that he would join the force.
 
    Once training was over Jack was eager to hit the streets, but as he did so, it became the biggest eye opener in his twenty years. What he was faced with, he was totally unprepared for, but keen senses and the ability to adapt served him well. In no time he was hard at it, he wanted Murphy to be proud of him. Murphy had been a far better father to Jack than his real one had ever been; this was Jack’s way of repaying Murphy by doing him proud. Two years later, with plenty of hard work, numerous arrests and one commendation, Jack went from beat cop to sergeant, and then he was accepted into the academy to receive training as a detective.





    The rest as they say is history, Jack was one of the best detectives the force had ever seen. His ability to solve cases was uncanny, however no-one seemed to mind, the streets were cleaner and crime was down, and that was what was important. But as they say every dog has his day, in Jacks case that would be December 24th 2009. Now however newcomers to the precinct would see a washed up alcoholic. While those that knew Jack, including the Captain were living in hope that the old Jack would resurface. But, at this particular juncture he was referred to as ‘dead end Jack’. Whenever a specific case would hit a dead end, it would be handed to Jack, in the hope that somewhere inside; one of these cases might reach.
 
    However there were none at the moment, it was now six pm, so Jack headed home, via the liquor store.  Jack had trouble sleeping, his evening consisted of drinking a bottle of whatever he could get his hands on, (the stronger the better), then he would go out in the early hours to walk it off. By then it would be time for work. So that was his routine and it hardly ever changed. There was the odd time however; but this time would be different, something was about to happen that would change his life forever.
 
      When Jack lost his wife, he lost everything, now he spent his time living in an abandoned building. It was not far from the precinct, so this was deemed convenient, plus it was somewhat clean and the water was still running. He made his way through the park, over the small bridge, then around the pond which at this time of year was frozen. He stopped to watch some of the youngsters that were ice skating, then suddenly one of them let out a scream. Her boyfriend pointed to the ice and said,
  “LOOK!  It  looks  like  a  body,  someone  call  911.”




    Jack placed the brown bag on one of the benches, then he made his way over to the pond. He took out his badge and declared,
  “Detective Peterson, You two stay there,” he said indicating to the girl and her boyfriend, “I will require statements from the both of you.”
 
    Jack got down on his hands and knees; he began to rub the snow from the surface of the ice. He could just barely make out a figure floating under the ice, he took a torch from his coat pocket, (his apartment unfortunately did not have electricity). He lit the torch and shone it on the head of the body; the girl let out another scream then fainted.  Jacks torch had illuminated a head with no face, the face had been completely blown off. Just then he heard the sound of sirens, he turned to see two patrol cars approaching. A few seconds later another two cars approached one patrol car and one other, Jack recognised the detectives, he filled them in, then headed for his apartment. He had had enough excitement for one night, and he was thirsty.
 
    In the morning when Jack arrived at work he was accosted by the two detectives from the night before. They were advising him that they required a written signed statement for the previous evening’s events. But by the looks of Jack he could hardly walk let alone write. He had tried to walk it off, but insufficient time due to last nights events left him somewhat the worse for wear. So one of the detectives offered to write a statement if he would sign it, Jack waved his hand in acknowledgement then collapsed in his seat. He was all out, he closed his eyes, but he found that he could not relax.





    Although Jack might have been somewhat out of it, one thought kept eating away at him. How did the body get underneath the ice? There were no visible breaks in the ice, so how was it possible? He was brought back into reality by a detective waving a sheet of paper in his face.
  “You gona sign this, or what?”
Jack looked at the detective, then at the piece of paper in front of his face. All he could see was a sheet of paper with some squiggly lines on it. He took the paper and signed it; needless to say the signature was nowhere near the dotted line. However he had signed it and the detective seemed satisfied with that, but as he was walking away Jack said.
  “One question.”
  “Fire away,” replied the detective, somewhat bemused.
  “How did the body get under the ice?”

    The detective shrugged his shoulders, “Not my department.” He said as he walked away.
On any normal day that answer would have satisfied Jack, but this was no normal day.
  “I ASKED YOU A QUESTION AND I EXPECT AN ANSWER!” Jack shouted as he stood up. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing; it was as if they were witnessing a transformation. Jack had gone from a shivering drunk to stone cold sober in the space of one sentence.




    He walked over to the detective who was now standing with his mouth agape. He grabbed the statement and proceeded to tear it up.
  “You will get your statement, when I get an answer.” Then he turned and left.
    The Captain who had come out of his office at the sound of a disturbance had just caught Jack exiting the room. He had just managed to look Jack in the eyes and what he saw sent shivers down his spine, ‘finally’ he thought, ‘he’s back’.  Ninety minutes later Jack returned, but not the Jack of late, this was a different Jack. Well dressed well groomed, in fact the transformation was such that some of the newcomers to the precinct did not recognise him. Gone was the washed up wreck that had been, no longer were his eyes glazed over, they were now steely, piercing, the kind of eyes that looked into your very soul and discovered your innermost secrets. Now there was no doubt, Jack was back, and back with a vengeance, everyone present had just witnessed a rebirth.
 
    The Captain who had been standing in the doorway of his office motioned to Jack to join him. After they were seated the Captain asked.
  “To what do we owe this reappearance?”
  “A message.”
The Captain looked confused.
  “A body is found not less than one hundred yards from my apartment, a body I might add that someone had gone to tremendous lengths to place where I would find it, I would most definitely say that that would constitute a message, would you not agree?”
  “Well Jack, when you put it like that, yes, I would have to agree, but my next question, is the obvious one.”
  “I don’t know why, not yet anyway, but I aim to find out.”


  Jack was not one for long conversations, he got up to leave, he had work to do, and it could not wait, however the Captain could.
  “Do you want back up?”
  “No thanks.”
As Jack left the office he passed one of the new desk sergeants entering. The sergeant looked at Jack then at the Captain.
  “Who is that guy? He looks like dead end Jack.”
  “It’s a long story, one that will have to wait, what have you got for me?”
  “It’s the autopsy report on the stiff from under the ice.”
The Captain looked at the report, as he read it his face suddenly turned a dark shade of grey.
  “That’s impossible, there has to be some mistake, ask the coroner to double check.”
As the sergeant left the office he glanced at the name on the report, as he did so his face turned white, the name on the report was that of Jack Peterson.
   
    At that particular moment Jack was exiting the building via the garage. He headed towards the park, once there he headed for the pond. Someone had placed that body in the pond then resealed the ice, ok, it was thin but he had to start somewhere, somewhere around that pond there would be a clue; all he had to do was find it.





    Now anyone who was anyone knew how Eskimos fish, they cut a hole in the ice, simple yes? But how is it possible for someone to cut through the ice and leave no trace. Jack would have to check every square inch of the surface, and so he got to it.
  “Hello.” A voice said behind him.
Jack spun around and was faced with what could only be described as a boffin, or scientist for lack of a better description.
  “Can I help you?” he asked.
  “On the contrary.”  The scientist replied. He then smiled at Jacks bewilderment.
  “Your Captain asked me to assist you.”
  “But.”
  “No buts, I have with me some specialised equipment, this will aid you in your search in a fraction of the time, of course if you would rather.”
He was then cut off mid sentence by Jack.
  “Ok, I get the picture, be my guest.”
   
    The scientist then proceeded to open a small box that he had been carrying under his arm, he smiled at Jack then placed the box on the surface of the ice, he then took a small control device from his coat pocket, and after opening the control device he pushed one of the buttons. To Jacks amazement the ice lit up, the box then began to vibrate. Suddenly a small two foot section of the ice began to rise up. As Jack watched the square of ice stopped when it was about three foot from the surface.
  “There you are.” Said the scientist.


    Jack had never seen anything like it.
  “How?”
It was now his turn to be cut off.
  “If you don’t ask I will not have to tell you.”
Jack who was pleased with the result did not press the matter.
  “Look at this.” Said the scientist as he approached the floating piece of ice.
  “It has been cut with a laser, and resealed in the same fashion, hmmmm, that’s interesting.”
  “What?”
  “I have only ever seen this once before.”
  “Where?”
  “Iceland, but it was only at the experimental stage at that time.”
  “When?”
  “Four weeks ago, but.”
  “But what?”
  “Four weeks would not be enough time to perfect this so how is it possible? I don’t understand, technically speaking, this is not possible.”
He turned and looked at Jack, but he could tell by his expression that Jack had no idea what he was talking about.
  “Who? Who was responsible for the experiment?”
  “We were not given that information at that time, suffice to say that it was someone of means.”
   
    That was not the answer that he was looking for, as far as he was concerned he was no further forward that he was at the beginning of this, he still had no idea who was responsible, for this situation. He put his coat on and headed for his car it was evident that this was a dead end. Somehow, that seemed to have a familiar ring to it. He got into his car and drove off, maybe the coroner could shed some light on this.
  “Don’t mention it.” Said the scientist as Jack sped off.
    He decided to visit Pete (The Coroner) if he had discovered the identity, that might give Jack some idea as to who and why? As Jack entered the coroners office Pete was in the middle of filling out a document on his desk. As soon as he laid his eyes on Jack his jaw dropped and his expression changed to one of total disbelief.
  “Jack! What the fuck?”
  “Jesus Pete, you look like you have seen a ghost.”
  “Is this someone’s idea of a joke?”
  “It’s no joke Pete, it’s me, and I need your help.”
  “That my friend is the understatement of understatements.”
 
    Pete slid the document towards Jack; Jack scanned it, ‘Certificate of Death’ Jack immediately assumed this was the certificate from the ‘body’ until he looked at the name ‘Jack Peterson’.
  “Ok Pete, you got me there, now stop playing around and give me the real document,” he said smiling as he tossed the document on to the desk.
  “Jack, that is the real document, this is no wind up, and I am serious here.”
Jack leaned over towards Pete and sniffed, it was not unlike Pete to partake in a few glasses.
    “No I have not had a drink, Listen Jack, I have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on, but I am giving you my word on this, I’ve checked it three times and each time the results are the same, the body that I have on ice is, ------- you.”
Jack slumped down in his seat.
  “How, this is crazy, it’s not possible?”
  “I know it is not, but possible or not the facts are that you are here in the flesh but at the same time you are dead, don’t ask me how, you just are.”
  “So what am I then, a fucking ghost?”
Pete leaned over and touched Jack.
  “As far as I can tell you are real, but then how is that possible? Unless.”
  “Unless what?”
  “You wouldn’t happen to have a twin brother by any chance?”
  “No.”
  “Well then, I have no idea, as far as I am concerned you are real but you can’t be, if you get my meaning.”
  “You are not making any sense Pete.”
  “None of this makes any sense, follow me.”
 
    Pete then went through to the morgue, Jack followed him, and then they walked along the front of the freezer where the bodies were stored and stopped at one of the drawers.
  “See for yourself.” Said the Pete; as he slid open the drawer containing Jacks ‘body’.
Although the corpse’s face was missing Jack could spot several likenesses to himself build, hair colour, birthmark.
    “What the Fuck?” Jack said as he took a step backward.
 
    It was not every day that one could look at what he was looking at, a shiver went down his spine, he was in no doubt that to all intents and purposes, the body that he was looking at was his. Both of them were silent on the slow return to Pete’s office. Once they were seated Pete took a bottle from one of his drawers, he poured out a glass for Jack who quickly downed it, then Pete took a swig from the bottle.
  “Pete, do you mind if I ask you a question?”
  “Feel free.”
  “What the fuck is going on here?”
  “I have absolutely no idea.”
  “Funny, I had a feeling that you were going to say that.”
  “Never in my fifteen years have I seen anything like it.”
They were interrupted by the Captain entering the office.
  “Have you got another glass handy?” he asked.
Pete handed him the bottle, the captain took the bottle and looked at Pete inquisitively.
  “Don’t even ask, I have no idea, Jack is dead, but as you can see he is not, how that came about is beyond me.”
  “Well we have to find out, and quickly, something is seriously wrong with this picture, and we need answers like Yesterday.”
  “Well we have ruled out two possibilities,” said Pete.
  “Jack does not have a twin brother and he is not a ghost, if you have something further to add, be my guest.”
 
    “Well until we do find out, I suggest that Jack should keep a low profile.”
  “Good idea.” Said Jack, “It would not look good if anyone should see me.”
  “Ok, Pete can you keep the body on ice for now? For further examination, for example,” the Captain asked.
  “Well I have determined identity, and we already know the cause of death but, I suppose I can think of some other examinations to perform.”
  “Fine, you two get to it then and I’ll go and break the news to the Commissioner.”
  “I’m quite sure that he will be heartbroken at the news, oh, and by the way, thanks for the help.”
  “What help?”
  “You know; the boffin that you sent to help me.”
  “Jack, I have no idea what you are on about, I never sent anyone.”
   
    Jack mumbled something then took his leave; it was evident that something was troubling him, but hopefully he would work it out, hopefully, being the operative word. It was no secret about the Commissioner’s feelings on Jack, and as everyone knew the feeling was mutual. The commissioner, as it so happened, was Mary’s father, and naturally he held Jack responsible for her death. After Jack had left, Pete took the Captain into the morgue. He opened the drawer with ‘Jacks’ body, then he turned to the Captain; he had a troubled look on his face.
  “Let’s have it.” Said the Captain, he could see that Pete had something on his mind.

  “I was just wondering, in lue of recent events,” he said indicating to the body, “If this is an imposter, or is it the real Jack?”