Chapter III
Two days after Ryan’s arrest and his two month suspension until June that was handed down by Ellis, the detective was parking across the street from his usual spot in front of the station house. The weather had improved somewhat when compared to that night at Dupont Circle and the sun beamed across the sky. Ryan was entering Doctor Susanne Martin’s offices for his mandatory therapy session. From the moment her receptionist had guided him to the waiting area to the time Ryan sat down outside he had already sized everything up, coming to the immediate conclusion that he wasn’t about to enjoy the hour ahead one bit.
“She’s ready for you now, just walk right in,” said the female receptionist in between reading articles of her favourite fashion magazine. Within moments of taking a seat in the reception, he was forced to quickly gather and collect his thoughts before entering her domain. Ryan walked through the door, it was everything he assumed a psychiatrists office to be, quiet all but for the regular ticking sound of the Newton’s cradle on her desk. Similar to Ellis’s office it felt incredibly spacious still, with the walls being covered by book shelves and a large leather sofa in the middle of the room facing an empty chair.
“Take a seat and we can begin,” The good doctor said as she then appeared from her wash room at the end of the study. Ryan sat down on the squeaky and awkwardly sinking leather sofa Susanne grabbed a folder off her desk and perched herself in the vacated chair opposite. After closing the file a few seconds later she threw it back onto her desk and plainly looked at Ryan from beyond the half glasses she wearing, the ideal image of an intellectual. The silence continued for several minutes with just the ticking of the cradle in the background of the room. Ryan was quite happy to just sit there coughing every once in a while and twiddling his thumbs together. It was clear he didn’t want engage the good doctor in conversation,
“So, Why don’t you begin by telling me how it happened?” she asked the detective as an opening gambit, to try and break the awkward silence both felt was created in the room by his mere presence.
“I…I had something to drink, then had a crash, nothing to it really,” claimed Ryan lacking any seriousness to what he was saying. Doctor Susanne Martin could clearly see he didn’t value what she was trying to do as helpful, instead more as a hindrance to his daily routine.
“Is there much stress in your life at the moment?” she then tried asking the detective, clearly hoping to get somewhere with the conversation.
“Not really,” replied Ryan as he reached for one of stress balls placed on the coffee table and commenced in throwing it above his head and catching it again and again. The small talk became unbearable as a full twenty minutes of the hour had gone by and no progress whatsoever was made with her patient. In her file about detective Ryan Mathers was information about his childhood,
“Why don’t you tell me about your mother?” she dared to ask Ryan, desperately trying to get inside his head. It was becoming a chess match between the two as to who would give in and start talking first. After the question was asked Ryan immediately stopped throwing the stress ball around and leaned forward in his seat on the sofa,
“That was a long time ago, it had nothing to do with my accident,” he replied,
“Is Jessica a good mother?” she then asked her patient,
“Alright I guess,”
“Only alright?” Susanne asked,
“If you must know we are getting divorced, it just wasn’t working between us, it hadn’t been for a very long time,” Ryan stated as he finally began to open up to the doctor about his the inner workings of his life.
The minutes ticked by, and the hour rolled on as the pair began to delve deeply into Ryan’s personal life. He began to realise that it wasn’t so bad having someone to talk to, and if it meant he got to keep his job at the end of it all then one session wouldn’t be the end of him.
“Now to your accident, why were you out driving that night? From what I have heard it sounded like you suffered a panic attack and passed out at the wheel,”
“And people just thought I was drunk...”
“This could be caused by something putting immense pressure and stress on your mind,” said the doctor to Ryan who was now lying flat on his back on the sofa. He was willing to open himself up to most of her questions, but not this. Ryan couldn’t reveal why he was pacing the floor of his lounge and why he was so stressed that night, knowing it would expose Harry and his secret about Wayne Peterson, he didn’t trust the doctor enough. Having deflected and saying it was a reaction to his divorce the two continued to talk. When the session was finally ready to end, Ryan was escorted to the door by the doctor who agreed with him that it was somewhat of a success. Although the therapy session did seem to help Ryan with his family issues and for once it felt nice to connect with someone again, he was no closer to making a decision about Harry; the detective knew he needed more information about everything.
* * *
Later that sunny afternoon as Ryan was sat in the rear seat of a taxi cab being driven to the East Potomac Golf Course, where Commissioner Ellis frequented in whatever little spare time he had that week. The taxi passed through the marina and over the Ohio Drive Southwest Bridge, giving Ryan a fleeting glance at the unaffordable speedboats and yachts owned by the rich and powerful. The crystal clear blue waters of the Potomac was playing host to jet skis and wind surfers alike bobbing up and down over the waves below, all the while the detective was cramped in the back of the hot car, that had neglected to be cleaned in many months or have the air conditioning serviced. The white columns of the Thomas Jefferson memorial were ever so slightly visible out of the right hand side of the window, as families and tourists flocked to the lush green grass and the benches nearby. When the scorching hot taxi continued down Ohio Drive onto the small sliver of land that stood between the Tidal Basin and the rest of the mighty Potomac River, the marina stood visible on the left hand side and the golf course now on the right. The land was large enough to house thousands of people, but instead on a searing hot weekday provided some with an outlet for the trials and tribulations of everyday life. Feeling glad to finally be able to step out of the back seat oven, with his sleeves rolled up and the jacket Ryan was wearing slung over his shoulder, he paid the driver with a twenty dollar bill. The cab driver then immediately scooted off before giving any change back that the detective was owed. Ryan decided it was far too warm to chase after a car with a head start for five dollars, so he casually walked towards the entrance hoping to find Ellis. Realising he wasn’t a member, and that he failed to have a police badge to flash to the security guard due in part to his suspension, Ryan casually hopped over the fence opposite the car park in his finest shirt and trousers and ignorantly walked across one of the nearby fairways to find his boss. When he finally caught up to the Commissioner sporting much of the apparel shown in the American Golf catalogue with his assistant, Ryan tried not to laugh but couldn’t help crack a smile at his boss in anything other than a policeman’s garb or an expensive suit.
“Mathers?! What the hell are you doing here?” bawled Ellis as he was handed a driver by his assistant, he was playing the role of caddy. Ellis then walked up to the tee and started taking a few practice swings.
“Lovely weather today isn’t it sir,” said Ryan attempting to engage Ellis in a polite conversation this time.
“Hmm,” Ellis grumbled, “I hear a storm’s coming soon, make the most of it Mathers, it won’t last. Now what brings you out here to spoil my day?”
“We need to talk about Harry sir,” Ryan said to his boss,
“O’Neill? Why, what’s wrong with him?” Ellis replied as his club collided with the ball hurling it through the air. “Ooh that’s a fine hit,” he added as he tossed the club back into the expecting arms of his assistant.
“Just, have you noticed anything strange about him lately? Or has he mentioned anything to you about his past?” Ryan then asked the Commissioner who clambered back into the front se
at of his golf cart. Ellis just looked at him with a blank expression on his face, one of annoyance and irritation that Ryan was interrupting his lovely afternoon away from the office.
“No, I have not, now go home. Enjoy your suspension, and try to relax,” Ellis said as the cart accelerated off over the grass and into the distance. Ryan now unsure of what to do looked around for a few seconds, before nonchalantly walking back towards the car park, as he did he kicked a nearby golf ball across the ground out of habit. Suddenly hearing shouting from the distance, he realised it was someone’s ball still in mid play. Ryan rushed quickly across the green and back towards the edge of the grounds before security could be alerted by the players. He headed back over the five foot high fence where he originally entered in and jogged down the street away from the course.
Chapter IV
The next night while the rest of the house was empty, April Mathers sat alone in the guest room at her father’s house where she had been staying for the past several weeks. Still deeply saddened by constant fights with her mother, constantly being ignored by her father for most of her young adult life and now the recent news of them separating for good was becoming too much to bare. She sat on the edge of her bed listening to her stereo, with a stolen cigarette from Ryan’s stash in one hand, her phone clenched tightly in the other, and tears cascading down from her eyes causing her thick layer of mascara to run. April ran her dry sleeve across her face attempting to clear her visibility of the tears and stood up; she entered the bathroom locking the door behind her.
Two hours later at around 11:00pm, the rain poured from the heavens and Ryan was exiting yet another taxi, with no license and no other rental car company willing to go anywhere near him after causing damage to many previous vehicles, he was at the mercy of being driven around. The downpour was fierce and relentless as it clattered against the sidewalk and the roofing of the houses.
“April? You there?” Ryan called out to his daughter upon entering, not hearing a response from the upstairs rooms he just presumed she was in bed asleep as her coat and keys were left by the entrance. The suspended detective reached for a bottle of water from his fridge and threw his jacket on the sofa before sitting down; a loud knocking could be heard at the front door. It stopped for a few moments, Ryan looked towards the door making sure he wasn’t simply hearing things due to the rain. Then the banging continued again, he looked at his watch wondering who it could be at this late hour. When he peered out the curtain to the left of his entrance he saw that it was Harry, stood furiously banging on his front door. Caught in the rain he was dripping wet through, his light grey coat was now a much darker shade and his hair was soaked as the water rolled down his face.
“What are you doing here at this time?” Ryan asked him as he unlocked the creaky door to let him in, “It’s pouring it down outside, what happened?”
“I spoke with Ellis’s assistant this afternoon, he said you showed up at the Commissioner’s golf game, asking questions, questions about me and my past,” said Harry as he walked inside Ryan’s home with a resentful tone of voice and a spiteful look on his face.
“What did his assistant tell you?” Ryan then asked,
“He told me enough...”
“Enough of what?”
“Did you rat me out? Did you tell him about Peterson?” Harry then began to ask as he backed Ryan into his living room. The door was still wide open and the discord of the rain outside now resounded throughout the ground floor.
“Of course I didn’t tell him anything!” Ryan replied in an attempt to calm his old friend down and sooth the situation that was building between them.
“Is it my job you’re after? Or do you just want to see someone else’s life ruined much like your own?!” Harry demanded to know; he clenched his fist and took an aggressive stance.
Before Ryan could even utter a response to his endless line of inquisitive questions, Harry leaned back and took a swing at his once best friend, aiming squarely for his jaw. He connected and knocked Ryan to the hard wooden floor causing a hefty thud, Ryan grabbed his chin in pain, stunned by the cheap shot he was just given, and he immediately climbed to his feet and retreated a few steps. Harry obviously wasn’t done however; he walked towards Ryan menacingly with his fist clenched, once again ready to strike another blow. He swung and missed as Ryan ducked out of the way and landed a left haymaker of his own, thus sending Harry careering into his TV stand and shattering the screen. Both men now well into their late forties and heavily deteriorated by the unhealthy lifestyles they led, struggled to catch their breath. They stared at each other knowing that neither could lift an arm let alone continue in a brawl, Harry smiled and started to chuckle. Just then, so did Ryan, they both then sat down on the wooden floor of Ryan’s lounge, nursing their soon to be painful bruises on their old faces.
“See you still have…that hidden left hook,” Harry said, he tried to regain control of his breath. “I’ll pay for the TV as well,” he then added. Ryan knew full well it was him who destroyed it during the scuffle so he wouldn’t be able to get out of paying.
“It’s alright, just can’t believe you thought I would grass you out to Ellis, after all we’ve been through,” said Ryan, he clambered to his feet and walked into the kitchen for some ice to press against his jawbone. Harry also regained his balance and slowly entered the kitchen and sat down,
“Hope the neighbours didn’t call the cops, don’t want the rest of the force seeing us old timers try to duke it out,” he said jokingly,
“Oh shit! April’s home, she’s probably scared wondering what’s happening down here,” Ryan then replied, he instantly left the kitchen and headed for the stairs. Harry followed him for reassurance as they both walked into April’s guest room, she wasn’t in there,
“April?” shouted Ryan, wondering where his daughter had gone to. While Ryan looked under the bed and in the closet for where his daughter may have be hiding during the commotion downstairs, Harry tried the bathroom door and saw that it was locked from the inside.
“I think she’s hiding out in here,” Harry said pointing towards the bathroom,
“Sweetheart? It’s OK you can come out now,” said Ryan, the pair of them pressed their ears to the door hearing only the sound of the sink still running. In an obvious panic Harry pushed him aside and kicked the door in, when he saw her inside he anxiously stood frozen there, he looked back at Ryan before reaching for his phone inside his coat pocket. During which time her father burst into the bathroom to find her lying motionless inside the tub, her head just surfacing above the red coloured still water inside. Her arm was draped over the side of the bathtub and the blood from her exposed wrist had discharged down the outside and onto the crystal white floor tiles below. Ryan fell to his knees in shock; he quickly checked her vital signs. Seeing that his daughter was barely alive and barely hanging on, he reached for a bandage from the cabinet above the sink, he tried his best to conceal and dress the self-inflicted wound. All he could do now is wait for the ambulance that Harry had called upon seeing her. Harry walked into the bathroom and placed one hand on the shoulder of his dear old friend who was still on his knees, and waited with him for the sound of sirens.
* * *
The storm that had raged outside for most of the evening had calmed significantly in the early hours of the morning. Ryan and Harry were hovering around the waiting room of the hospital. The nearby vicinity was muted, but for the occasional sound above them as the fluorescent lights flickered, and the ringing of a telephone could be heard across the hallway from the nurse’s station. The waiting area on that floor of the hospital was all but empty, except for the two detectives and a male stranger curled up over two chairs in the corner of the room asleep under his coat.
“Stupid fucking vending machine!” Harry yelled as he assaulted the machine with his foot trying to get what he paid for. This was attracting the concerned attention of a nearby nurse, who looked ready to call for security. Harry lackadaisically trudg
ed back to his uncomfortable seat in the waiting area.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he then added, hoping to converse with Ryan to ensure he was doing alright. Up to this point he hadn’t spoken a single word upon seeing his daughter lying in the bathtub, to this moment sat in the hospital. Her dried blood still coated parts of his hands as he repeatedly examined them with his eyes, openly bringing himself to tears each and every time in the process of doing so. Whatever moment there was between the two detectives was about to be spoiled, as the sound of Ryan’s soon to be ex-wife Jessica was getting closer and closer.
“Where is he?!” Jessica was shouting as she approached the waiting area, she locked her eyes upon Ryan, and then walked right up to her husband. She delivered an almighty slap to his already bruised cheek that resounded off the walls down the silent hallway. “You had one job! To make sure our daughter was safe and you still couldn’t do that!” Jessica exclaimed, venting her apparent rage to him as a clear attempt to hide her sorrow at the tragedy that had befallen her beloved child. Ryan didn’t mutter a response and just stood there with the same faraway look in his eyes he had for the past several hours. At that moment Jessica’s wall of defences had collapsed and she began crying in Ryan’s arms, they both sat down cuddled together in the waiting area as a nearby doctor approached.
“April is going to be fine, she had lost a lot of blood when the EMT’s got to her but she’ll pull through. She should be awake any moment if you want to wait inside her room,” he said to the couple as they both let out a sigh of relief and embraced each other with a hug.
The Sins of a District Page 7
