Never the Crime

by Colin Conway

  Stone registered Garrett’s uniform which, as always, looked sharp on the man. “Is everything okay, Ty?”

  “Yeah, sure, I was in the neighborhood and thought I would stop in to say hi.”

  “How did you know where I live?”

  “Really? I checked your name on the MDC. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  Stone stepped back. “Yeah. C’mon in.”

  Garrett’s eyes quickly swept the apartment. “Nice digs, Stoney. How come you’ve never had me here before?”

  Stone’s face flushed. “Well, I—”

  Garrett turned and grinned. “Relax, man, I’m busting your chops. Mind if I sit?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he sat on the edge of the couch. Stone returned to his chair.

  “How are things at city hall? Liking it?”

  “It’s okay.”

  Garrett’s eyes went to the TV. The Rangers’ batter hit a line drive to the Mariners’ third baseman which quickly turned into a double play. When he looked back to Stone he said, “City hall seems like a sweet gig, especially for a young buck such as yourself.”

  “Yeah. It’s pretty cool.”

  “Allows you to avoid those rookie years of graveyard, huh?”

  “Graveyard wasn’t so bad.”

  Garrett chuckled. “Graveyard sucks. Power shift is where the action is. When you get done playing footsy with the politicos, you should come run-and-gun with us again.”

  Stone smiled, surprised that Garrett would encourage him to join his team. “Thanks.”

  Garrett’s eyes traveled around the apartment once more.

  “How about you, Ty? How are things since, well, you know.”

  Garrett’s gaze returned to him. “Things are good, they’re good. Got my footing back. Took some time, but that’s how it goes.”

  Stone nodded. His first training officer had suggested he find men in the department to model himself after, to help acclimate himself to the culture and life of a police officer. It took Stone a while to settle on one, but Tyler Garrett was the guy he thought embodied the best about the police. He was smart and confident, neither emotional nor impulsive. He always appeared in control. To Stone, Garrett seemed like a guy who reached out to those who weren’t as strong as him and helped them become better. He was the kind of man Stone wanted to be. Garrett might be more hard-charging than Stone was, but he could still model himself after his character and integrity.

  “Hey, so we know someone in common,” Garrett said.

  “Yeah,” Stone said, his face lighting up. “Who’s that?”

  “Betty Rabe.”

  Stone’s face quickly darkened.

  “You know her, then?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I figured as much. It’s a shame, though.”

  Stone leaned forward. “A shame?”

  “She’s dead. Killed herself.”

  “Oh God,” Stone said. “How? When?”

  “Couple nights ago. Pills and asphyxiation. She tied a bag around her head. Gruesome, man, it was a gruesome way to go. Ugh.”

  Stone’s eyes drifted to the floor.

  “She had this on her person.” Garrett reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a business card. He tossed it on the coffee table. Stone could read his own name on it. He immediately looked up to Garrett but didn’t say anything.

  “I didn’t tell the responding detective that I found that card. I figured I’d wait until I talked with you.”

  “Why would you do that? That’s tampering with a crime scene, isn’t it?”

  “You’re a brother in blue, but if you want me to call the detective and hand the card over, I can do it. I’ll do it as soon as I leave here, if that’s really what you want.”

  “No,” he whispered.

  “Okay, Stoney, I won’t, at least not yet. But you’ve got to help me understand some things.”

  His eyes hopped around his apartment for several moments before they settled back on Garrett. “Like what?”

  “Like why there was no incident report for your contact with the girl. I searched. There’s no report of you ever contacting her. Not even a CAD entry.”

  Stone blinked a couple of times. I can do this.

  I can lie to Tyler Garrett.

  “It wasn’t that type of contact,” he said with a shrug. “It was just some friendly conversation, you know, just checking on her. I gave her the card to call me if she ever needed something.”

  “Some friendly conversation, huh?”

  “Yeah, exactly. Friendly conversation.”

  Garrett leaned forward and gave Stone a sly smile. “Were you hitting on her? Is that what you were doing? Were you trying to ball a seventeen-year-old?”

  “What? God, no!” His face flushed again.

  How could Garrett think I would do such a thing?

  “I mean, she might have been cute if it wasn’t for all that black makeup. Plus, it’s hard to tell with her being dead. She looked waxy and all, but she was a tiny little thing. Maybe you go for that vampire look. Is that what you go for?”

  “No, man, that’s not what this was about.”

  Garrett spread his arms out on the back of the couch and crossed his ankles. “Then what was it about, Stoney? Regale me with your story.”

  Stone stood and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Having trouble with your tale?” Garrett’s tone was calm and confident. “How about I help get you started? Use this for inspiration. Councilman Dennis Hahn…had a thing…for young Bethany Rabe.”

  “What?”

  “Hard to believe, huh? But the councilman was sticking it to her. I figure that’s why you were talking with her.”

  Stone turned around, putting his back to Garrett. He had nowhere to flee. He was inside his own house.

  “So Betty had a friend, and this friend, she talked with me. Told me everything.”

  Stone glanced back at Garrett. “A friend knew?”

  “Newsflash, man. A seventeen-year-old is dead. She had no history of mental illness. She killed herself because of a sexual relationship she had with a councilman. This story is getting out sooner or later. Maybe it makes national news. Doesn’t take much to make national news. I should know.”

  “Wait. Did she leave a note saying that about Hahn? That she killed herself because of him?”

  “That would have been something if she did, huh? No, there wasn’t a note, but how hard was it for me to paint that picture? Not hard at all, was it? People are going to want to know why you’re protecting a councilman. What answer are you going to give them?”

  “I swear, it’s not like that,” Stone said, facing Garrett again. “It wasn’t my choice to interview her that way.”

  Garrett clapped his hands once and dropped them in his lap. “Whose choice if not yours?”

  “It was above our pay grade.”

  “Don’t make me guess, Stoney. I want it straight. I’ve only got a few minutes before I have to get back on patrol. If I don’t get your side of the story, I’m going to be forced to write an addendum to my report saying that I found a witness. I’ll drop what I know about Hahn and you. Then you can deal with the detective. After that, I’m sure IA will come calling. That’s a no brainer, now that I think about it. Have you dealt with IA?”

  Stone gave Garrett a short shake of his head.

  “I didn’t think so. It’s no fun, let me tell you that. And you’ll probably get sued by the girl’s parents. Oh shit, her parents. I didn’t tell you about them. They were distraught. Heartbreaking, man, just heartbreaking. They can’t understand why their baby girl killed herself. They’ll come after you for sure.”

  “The chief,” Stone blurted. “The chief and the mayor. They tasked me with it.”

  “The chief and the mayor? They asked you to cover it up?”

  “No, not cover it up. They didn’t ask for that.”

  “Then what did they
ask for?”

  “They asked me to investigate.”

  “Investigate what? The relationship?”

  Stone shook his head. “No. Didn’t the friend tell you this? Betty sent a letter to the mayor’s office claiming that Hahn assaulted her. Sikes and Baumgartner wanted me to look into it quietly.”

  “She sent a letter?”

  “When I confronted her about it, she said she made most of it up to get even with Hahn because he broke it off with her.”

  “A letter.”

  “I swear, that’s it. I was told to not tell anyone. Not even my sergeant.”

  “That’s why you couldn’t have an incident number show up, not even a One-David contact. Because there would be a record. They wanted you to interview the girl, determine what kind of damage was lurking out there, and come back and report, right?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Hopefully, you wrote something to at least cover your ass? There’s no record of you ever talking to her. I checked. You’re way over the edge, man. You know that, right? Sikes and Baumgartner, they aren’t out there with you. They stuck you out there, all by your lonesome. When cracks start to show—”

  “I wrote a report,” Stone said defensively. As soon as he said it, he knew he should have kept his mouth shut. But Garrett was pointing out all the things he’d already thought, and it was upsetting to hear it out loud.

  Garrett studied him as the words sunk in. “You wrote a report outside the system?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ever do that before?”

  “No,” he admitted.

  “Man, even I haven’t done that. Still got a copy of it?”

  Stone shook his head and looked down.

  “You’re telling me that an administrative badass such as yourself didn’t keep a copy of a report that has such importance as this? No, I’m not buying it. You’re smarter than that.”

  They stared at each other for several moments.

  Finally, Garrett’s eyes slanted, and he sternly ordered, “Motherfucker, go get your copy.”

  Stone slowly walked to the kitchen counter and picked up several sheets of paper. When he returned he handed them to Garrett. Along with the report was a copy of Betty Rabe’s letter to the mayor.

  Garrett scanned the documents. “You’ve got nice handwriting, Stoney.”

  “Thanks,” he mumbled.

  “Wait. You wrote this by hand?”

  “I was directed to.”

  “By the chief?”

  Stone nodded.

  Garrett was quiet for some time while he read the report. When he was done, he went through a second time, much like the chief did when he reviewed it.

  “I can’t decide if this is a legitimate hashtag me too outing, or some outright bullshit.” He glanced up at Stone. “So, you think Hahn was clean when it comes to the assault?”

  “Maybe.”

  “But you were leaning that way?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And the girl? You believe her initial accusation was false, just a tale to get Hahn in trouble?”

  “Not all of it. He took advantage, had sex with her. Maybe he assaulted her, maybe not. That’s the gray area. The rest of it is pretty black-and-white.”

  Garrett set the papers on the coffee table in front of him. “What are you going to do about this?”

  “This?” Stone said, pointing at the report. “Nothing. I’m doing nothing. I’ve already done my job. Now, I just want to keep my head down.”

  “They’re setting you up. You see that, right?”

  “I don’t think so. They were trying to protect city hall.”

  Garrett smirked. “I know what they do when they try to protect city hall. Believe me. They’re going to hang you out to dry.”

  “Not the chief. He wouldn’t do that.”

  “The chief, huh?”

  “He wouldn’t do that,” he repeated, then softly added, “to me.”

  Garrett looked at the palm of his hand for a moment. It was as if he was considering something. Finally, he said, “Know what the guys are calling you?”

  Stone looked at him. “What guys?”

  “The guys. Around the department. They’re calling you Charlie Bravo.”

  “Yeah, so? I don’t know what that means.”

  “It means you’re the Chief’s Bitch.”

  Charlie Bravo? That’s what Ray Zielinski called him.

  “Don’t feel bad, man. There’s always somebody hung with that label. You’re just the latest in a long line of Charlie Bravos. After you’re gone, there’ll be another. Maybe in your job, maybe in some other position. But still the Chief’s Bitch.”

  Without another word, Stone turned and went to the bathroom. He shut the door behind him. He started the cold water and splashed some in his face.

  How could this be true?

  He was doing his best to stand out, to make a name for himself. Were the other officers on the department really making fun of him? Were they really tearing him down for doing something they wouldn’t, or couldn’t, do?

  He looked at his image in the mirror. The water running down his face looked like a waterfall of tears. He dried his face with a towel.

  Screw them. I won’t back down because of same name calling. Maybe Garrett was right. Maybe the city would hang him out to dry. Just like they had tried to do to Garrett.

  When Stone stepped out of the bathroom, Garrett was standing over the coffee table. The pages of the report were spread out and he was tucking his cell phone into his back pocket.

  Stone walked up. “Were you just—”

  Garrett grabbed his shoulder microphone and said, “Charlie three sixteen. I’m clear and available for calls.”

  “Did you just take photos of my report, Ty?”

  “Charlie three sixteen,” dispatch called.

  Garrett said to Stone, “Hold on.” Then he pressed the button on his shoulder mic. “Sixteen, go ahead.”

  Stone bent and scooped up the various pages. “Did you take photos of Betty Rabe’s letter? That was confidential.”

  “Charlie three sixteen, a report of a two-car collision at Twenty-ninth and Southeast Boulevard.”

  “Sixteen,” Garrett said, “show me en route.” He released the microphone. “Hey, man, it was nice catching up.”

  “I’m serious. Did you take pictures of my report?” Stone repeated.

  “Y’know, Stoney, I always liked you. That’s why I’m gonna look out for you,” Garrett said as he opened the front door. “Why don’t you give me a call sometime? Let’s get a beer or something.”

  He turned and left, without waiting for Stone to reply.

  Gary Stone stood in the middle of his living room, the various pages of his report clutched tight to his chest.

  Should he tell the chief about this or should he keep it to himself? The chief would be angry, he knew. And there was nothing he could do to fix it.

  Besides, what would Tyler Garrett do with some photos of his report? Maybe he was freaking himself out about nothing.

  CHAPTER 24

  Detective Wardell Clint sat in his car up the street from Officer Tyler Garrett’s patrol cruiser. He’d watched Garrett go to a house mid-block. The Chevy Impala in the driveway had a license plate with five numbers and D at the end—a city police plate. So he wasn’t surprised when he peered through his binoculars and saw Gary Stone answer the door.

  Stone seemed surprised, though. Regardless, he let Garrett in.

  Clint let the binoculars drop and hang from the strap around his neck. What the hell kind of business did Garrett have with Stone?

  It couldn’t be anything dirty.

  Or could it?

  What little Clint knew about Officer Gary Stone made that seem unlikely. He was more white collar than blue, a real cake-eater. He wasn’t enough of a meat-eater to be dirty. Then again, most people would have never believed Tyler Garrett cap
able of the dirt he did, Clint included.

  Clint jotted down the location and time Garrett entered the house. He waited, watching the front door.

  What was Stone doing twenty-one months ago, he wondered. Was he already on this easy street city hall gig, or still in patrol? And if he was in patrol, what shift? Did he overlap with Garrett?

  Clint wrote those questions down, carefully coding them so no one else would be able to read the notes but him. He’d have to find out the answers back at the station tomorrow. Maybe payroll could help him. They were always up on shift assignments so that officers’ paystubs made it to the right place. Checking there might make the least amount of noise.

  Time dragged past ten minutes, and still no Garrett. Clint gripped the steering wheel and squeezed, bleeding off some nervous energy. Then a thought occurred to him, and his jaw fell open.

  Shit.

  What if Stone was the chief’s go-between for dealing with Garrett?

  Clint snapped his mouth shut and gave his head a shake. The question didn’t go away, so he looked at it again. If the chief was dirty, he couldn’t be seen in direct contact with Garrett. A chief of police meeting with a patrol officer would be odd in a single occasion and suspicious if it happened frequently. So the chief would need someone to act as an envoy.

  But did that mean the chief was dirty? The truth of it would lie in Baumgartner’s actions regarding Garrett. Had the chief actually penalized Garrett after the shooting? Clint had been assigned to shadow the county investigators, and everything he saw from the chief’s office was supportive.

  That’s what you’d want, right?

  “True enough,” Clint mumbled.

  It wasn’t all roses, though. When Detective Talbott found drugs at Garrett’s house, the chief suspended the officer until the matter was resolved. That was standard. The suspension was with pay, but that was also standard. The bigger question was, had the chief ever done anything detrimental to Garrett during that entire affair? Clint tried to remember, but every thought he had was something favorable the chief had done, including welcoming the son of a bitch back with open arms after the mayor’s office forced the charges dropped and Clint’s official investigation terminated.