* * *
While Ryan’s phone was turned off, at his home Jessica was trying to reach him as she had gone into premature labour. She was unable to contact Ryan, unbeknownst to her his face was inside yet another shot glass, Jessica phoned for an ambulance and some minutes later was taken to nearby Howard University Hospital, where she gave birth to their daughter on her own. As Jessica is stroking her new child’s forehead it brings a tear the new mother’s eye, all the while Ryan still remains parked at his stool in Mickey’s he strokes an old picture of him and his mother he keeps with him at all times in his wallet. His mother was murdered when he was just a small child. It was why he became a policeman, it’s why he wears the badge, he wanted to try to serve the people who need protecting in their hour of need, the people like his mother. Although he was only five years old at the time he still feels that it was his fault, his fault his mother died, that’s why he wears the badge.
Chapter V
By the time Ryan had reached his home in the early hours of that morning he had found that Jessica had gone, she simply left a note on the dining room table saying the words, “Howard University Hospital.” While he sped through the streets he knew that once again he hadn’t been there for the woman in his life, as he finally found the room Jessica was in he saw her holding his new born child, Jessica smelt the alcohol on his breath and the slight twitch in his eye as he blinked so she knew he had been drinking again. She just sat there with a look of contempt on her face for her husband as she handed him his daughter to hold in his arms for the first time.
“So where were you then? It’s clear to me and to the nurses that you had more important places to be… I can smell the alcohol so don’t even bother trying to deny that you were out drinking again,” said Jessica as Ryan walked towards the window of the hospital room. A few tears ran from his tired eyes as he surveyed the lights of the night sky from the hospital window.
“Are you going to respond to me this evening?” Jessica mumbled still clearly exhausted and sleep deprived from the many hours of labour which she had just gone through. Ryan didn’t care to offer a response to her accusations that he was out drinking yet again, he didn’t want to admit to himself that his weakness towards alcohol caused him to miss the birth of his beautiful new child. He just continued to stand by the window holding his new daughter in his arms, ignoring the rest of the world around him.
A few days had passed since the newly named April Mathers was born and was taken home to her new family. Harry & Claire had both been to visit Ryan with his new baby, as well as a whole host of other family and friends, some travelling from as far as Florida. It was a hectic couple of days for the struggling married couple who seemed as if they were both beginning to find it much harder than they had previously imagined new family life to be. Ryan hadn’t jumped in to fatherhood with two feet and didn’t seem at all determined to change Jessica’s opinion of her husband. The stress of a new-born began to take its toll on the physically and emotionally drained couple. His night’s still consisted of missed calls from home and late arrivals home, something his wife would not stand for now they had April to take care of. When he arrived home after another night of no contact with his wife he slouched down on the hard sofa in his lounge with a beer and turned on the local news. A small story was being repeated about Eli Walker announcing his candidacy for the next city council elections, Ryan simply stared at the screen for a while before falling off to sleep.
* * *
A full week had passed since the “Jane” case had been closed and Peterson was back in the courtroom. The Federal Courthouse was located on Constitution Avenue and it was built to intimidate those defenders and criminals who approached. It was a large stripped classical style design that was ever present in the federal judicial district of Washington D.C. Walker knew that it was a court of law that was all too familiar for Wayne Peterson, as every time he entered he lost a piece of his life to the justice system of the United States of America. As Walker entered the building, passing the Meade civil war memorial at the South entrance he proceeded through the tight security and then on to the elevators that would take him to one of the seven courtrooms on the fourth floor. Wearing the sharpest suit in his wardrobe and sporting the same famed ‘lucky’ briefcase which he used in every trial since his career began. He locked eyes with Peterson who was being brought out from his holding cell. The defendant’s suit was wrinkled and creased as the handcuffs were finally removed and he was placed behind the desk adjacent to Walker’s opposite to the judge’s bench. At twelve o’clock the doors to the courtroom were closed and the trial commenced, he would be subsequently charged by the federal judge, Walker and his court appointed lawyer still a little green around the gills fought valiantly, however the presiding judge decided to send Wayne back to Brockbridge Correctional Facility. The place where he had spent many previous years of his life, for a further nineteen years ordered by the judge, ten years for the rest of his sentence in the Jamal Davis murder in 1977 which the judge heard all about. With another nine years added on for possession of a level one drug, which was a class D felony. Peterson’s fate was sealed as Harry O’Neill had snuck in after the doors had closed and observed from a back row of the empty courtroom. Eli rotated his head from the prosecution’ table and could see a look of regret was plastered all over Harry’s face as Peterson was dragged back to his holding cell to await his transfer to federal prison. Eli Walker stood up and shook hands with one of his legal assistants, then didn’t glance at Harry as he walked out of the courtroom; Walker had what he needed from Harry, for now at least.
Part Two
Chapter I
Nearly twenty years had passed by and detective Ryan Mathers was lying in a room in George Washington University hospital at nine o’clock in the morning on Tuesday the fifth of February 2014. He was awakened by the sound of his fluctuating heart rate monitor and he was brought back to the land of the living. His body was stiff and bruised. While his face aged poorly over time and there were broken capillaries covering his cheeks and nose. His hair showing patches of grey. When he tried to tilt his head to the left to see who was slumped in the chair behind the pulled curtain by his bedside he winced in pain at his neck that he had injured the night before. The room smelled of ammonia or a host of other cleaning agents as well as the particular aroma of the plate of uneaten food on the dinner tray in front of him. As a nurse came in to check on his condition and asking how he was,
“How are we this morning detective?” in a facetious tone of voice, she pulled back the curtain to reveal Harry O’Neill. Harry was just sitting there gliding through the only five television channels the hospital received until he stopped at a broadcast of City Councilman Eli Walker being congratulated on winning yet another local election in his district by a landslide, continuing his streak since nineteen ninety-six which he also won by a fair few votes, his birthday is even the 4th of July, as American as apple pie. Ryan was sure that Eli Walker would have been a congressman or possibly a senator by now if he hadn’t wanted to stay close to his daughter, perhaps he felt staying as a councilman would grant him that request. The city council didn’t have much authority to make much change in the Washington D.C. area as any major budgetary legislation had to see the inside of congress beforehand, although local ordinances and laws could easily be voted in by the few members that stood for their local public.
“Asshole,” Harry simply said as he turned off the television and threw the remote down on Ryan’s bed and turned to him, “hey, look who’s finally joined us.”
“Where am I?” Ryan asked Harry, “How did I get here?”
“Well you had a little too much to drink last night and you drove into a bollard near your house” Harry said with a concerned tone of voice, “don’t worry I made the charge go away but, we still need to keep an eye on you.”
Harry was promoted in early 2000 to district commander of the 2nd precinct, it seemed as if everyone had moved on with their lives inc
luding Harry O’Neill who also had his ordeals as a young boy and a young man, except Ryan, who still occupies the same desk, only now a little cleaner than before.
“Claire came by to visit earlier, she seems more worried than I am,” Harry added, as he threw Ryan his shirt and his pants. “C’mon get dressed, we’re out of here.”
Harry didn’t act too bothered that he had just broken the law. Ryan began to get the feeling back into his legs and by the time he had finished redressing he felt only a slight stiffness in his neck and some bruising across his chest were his seat belt collided with his ribcage.
As Ryan and Harry approached the front desk at the reception to be discharged, an orderly was there to meet him pushing a wheelchair with a sharp squeak on the right hand wheel when it rotated,
“Yeah I’m fine the chair isn’t necessary,” Ryan insisted to the lady behind the main desk who peered over the bridge of her overly thick glasses to say.
“Sorry sir, hospital policy, everyone who leaves must do so in a wheelchair,”
While Harry began to push a reluctantly wheelchair bound Ryan out of the front exit and head towards the car park he said,
“I didn’t call Jessica, I didn’t think you would want me to, figured you and her weren’t speaking since she moved out last year.”
He was absolutely right Ryan didn’t want anyone to see him let alone Harry in that state, “I also spoke to Ellis, told him to let you have the rest of the week off, he actually sounded worried for once,” he added.
Nathan Ellis was now the commissioner of the police department for the D.C. metro area and a golf buddy of Eli Walker’s, the two played twice a week weather permitting. Washington D.C. had always been a modern city but Ryan couldn’t help notice the changes as he was being driven home, changes in the way people dressed, in the shops along the streets and avenues and in the god awful music blaring from Harry’s radio which he seemed to be enjoying. Harry had aged well giving him a distinguished look for his age, his hair wasn’t going grey like Ryan’s was and his face hadn’t worn as profusely either.
“You still betting on sports?” he asked Harry, “I know you’re still a Wizards fan.”
The Washington Wizards were the new name of The Washington Bullets, Harry being a cop would say he always preferred the previous name.
“No not anymore, I gambled in my youth and lost out to some pretty dangerous people and I’ve been paying for it ever since,” he replied, he had managed to pull himself in the right direction, Ryan could see that things were looking up for the commander.
“What do you mean by ‘paying for it ever since?” Asked Ryan as he turned to Harry from the passenger seat of his car.
“Oh, nothing, never mind,” as Harry replied shuffling in his seat, “let’s talk about something else shall we?” he deflected looking back at Ryan.
When they arrived at Ryan’s house, to which he had barely changed a brick since nineteen ninety-five and much of the street seemed very much the same, he had simply installed new windows. He was greeted by his eighteen year old daughter April who revealed that she was delighted that he was ok, yet also troubled about how her father had been destroying himself as well as his career with alcohol problems in the past several years.
Ryan’s emotional distrust of the women in his life had continued all this time and April felt she was at the root cause of it, she was unaware it was instead his traumatic childhood that Ryan had neglected to mention to her. It was becoming a tough burden to bare for a young woman who just wanted to know her father. She had an independent personality and didn’t share her thoughts often, much like Ryan, the only thing louder than her music was her choice in clothing and Jessica let her know regularly at home, she couldn’t tolerate living with her mother and made it clear she wanted to live with Ryan. With her she carried a small suitcase filled with her clothes and personal belongings,
“What’s this?” he asked,
“I’m staying with you for a while, someone has to keep an eye on you,” she said, “Let’s get you inside.” She helped her father by unlocking the door to his home and waiting for him to enter, a diminutive grin could be seen on Ryan’s face as in that moment he felt gratified that he could still count on his daughter after all this time to be there for him.
Chapter II
It had been a full week since Ryan’s accident and he was set to return to work that day, Ellis and Harry were already at the station house that morning, sat inside Harry’s office having a heated discussion about Ryan’s state of mind.
“He’s not fit to wear the badge anymore, he’s too much of a wreck and too much of a drunk,” Ellis contested to Harry while he pounded his fist on his freshly cleaned desk.
“Who out of us can’t say they have had a few too many one night as a mistake,” Harry said defending Ryan’s actions, “trust me, he will be fine.”
“Keep an eye on your boy O’Neill, I gave you this office and I can certainly take it away!” argued Ellis as he slammed Harry’s door as he left the office, nearly bringing the entire door off of the rusty hinges and knocking several files off of a nearby shelf. Ellis had never been happy that Ryan had managed to skate by all these years, going unpunished for all his shortcomings and his alcohol related mishaps on and off the job due to his friend Harry protecting him, if Harry wasn’t such a good cop and a much needed leader in the district they would unquestionably both be seeking a new form of employment somewhere else in the city. He knew one more slip up from Ryan and he wouldn’t be able to protect him anymore, but until that day Harry would always have his back.
As Ryan arrived later that morning in his rental car, his being repaired still from his accident, he entered through the automatic doors at the front of the station entrance after parking in his usual space. The department had gone through many changes since the mid-nineties and felt unfamiliar at times to him, now a progressive and comprehensive system that relied on technology to get things done rather than old fashioned police work. The stained carpet had been replaced with shiny new wooden floors, the inadequate coffee machine discarded for a state-of-art espresso machine with clean cups, the break room felt almost like a cafe to the employees where they could relax and socialise. As he made his way down the hall to where his desk was he passed row after row of cutting-edge computers and telephones each operated by fresh faced plainly clothed detectives, gone were the days of cheap wrinkled suits, instead chequered shirts with darker trousers were the style on display around the office. Ryan walked past Harry’s door and gave a simple nod of recognition and greeting to his former partner, as a maintenance worker was screwing something into the frame of the door. When he reached his desk he noticed the same picture he still had of Jessica but placed within a new frame, he also found a get well soon card signed by all the folks at the department, while reading the names he couldn’t remember any of them realizing he should have made more of an effort in his time to get to know his work colleagues, Ryan casually folded it up and placed it in his top drawer before relaxing in his chair and breathing a heavy sigh and closing his eyes.
“Rise and shine partner,” Harry shouted rousing Ryan, “new day, new case hope you’re up for it, first on scene called it in, elderly lady found shot dead, suspected home invasion gone wrong at the Northwest corner of 19th and Riggs, Claire’s already down there waiting for you, uniform’s on scene say they have an eyeball witness, get to it.” Harry informed Ryan, awaking him fully from his doze he grabbed his keys and headed over there in his rental vehicle.
* * *
By the time he had arrived on Riggs Street a large crowd had already gathered, Ryan hated this about crime scenes, no one shows up to visit you when you’re alive, they only appear when you have died so people can view the potential drama that may unfold. As he walked underneath the yellow tape making sure to flash his detectives badge hanging from the chain around his neck to the officer who would then let him through. He realised he must have made this exact same walk nearly one hundred times
throughout his career give or take, and each time it doesn’t get any easier, each time it chips away at his conscience a little, at his ability to do the job effectively, a good night’s sleep is but yet another distant memory for him.
He could see Claire when he approached standing near to the entrance of the scene,
“Ryan I am really glad you're alright.” He still felt tired and hoped he didn't look it, “I came to visit you in the hospital,” she added, “but you were fast asleep and Harry, well, he sort of shooed me off.”
“That’s Harry for you,” Ryan plainly put,
“Yeah I guess so, although he has been acting kind of weird lately.”
“What do you mean weird?” Ryan asked as he the two old friends stood on the front steps of the crime scene.
“I’m not too sure, it’s hard to say, perhaps just a feeling I guess,” she paused, “maybe just women's intuition. Anyway, what's all this about April moving in, is that right?”
“It sure is, but I don't think Jessica will be too happy with the whole arrangement that was made almost without her permission.”
“You’re damn right she won't be, what mother would?” asked Claire as she turned to go into the building.
A building, that Ryan thought looked similar to his own, only in an even worse kept state of condition, paint chips falling off of the green door whenever it opened and closed and the handle and knocker were both rusted through completely. When they entered the scene for the first time, they found container after container of old junk and unused items were stacked ceiling high in each room, the stairs were blocked off by boxes labelled by the years and a more than noticeable stench of human excrement was coming from the cupboard under the stairs. This poor old woman was clearly incapable of looking after herself on her own and anybody could see that just from the squalid state of the rooms. Ryan was made angry when he noticed a treasured picture of the victim, only younger with what looked to be two children in their early thirties, both women.
The Sins of a District Page 3
