by Mark Pepper
‘Was a time you’d have never seen me coming.’
‘Or heard you, huh?’ Larry said. ‘That’s a badass piece you got there, silencer and all. I didn’t know my wife knew people like you. What are you? Some kinda hitman? Ex-CIA? What?’
‘I spent time in their employ,’ Dodge said weakly.
‘Wanna tell me where that bitch-wife of mine is?’
Dodge minutely shook his head.
‘Wanna tell me who you are?’ Larry said.
‘Tomorrow. Tell you tomorrow.’
Larry grinned. ‘A joke. I’m impressed. You’re not afraid to die.’
‘It’s long overdue.’
‘This you?’ Larry said suddenly, nodding at the baseball cap lying in the sand. ‘Are you the Dodge of DODGE CITY? Sounds like a nigger’s name to me.’
‘No, I’m the fuck of fuck you.’
Larry used his thigh to knock the knife handle, but Dodge stubbornly swallowed on the pain inside him.
‘Tough bastard,’ Larry said admiringly, then inspected the preexisting wounds on his victim’s body. ‘I see this ain’t the first time you’ve been on the ground losing blood. You’ve been in the wars. Lot of new damage, but this one here looks old. I’m guessing a souvenir of Vietnam?’
Before his strength ebbed completely, Dodge decided to strike. He brought a knee up hard into Larry’s back, but only succeeded in provoking a head-butt that practically knocked him out.
Larry kept his forehead in contact, which also connected their noses and left a mere inch between their lips.
‘You’re a relic, old man. However good you once were, that time has gone. You fucked up today.’
Dodge heard the words through a crack of consciousness. He knew he would not recover to be fully cognizant again. Only one thing was clear in his head. In a whisper, his speech slurred, punctuated by labored breaths, he began to share it with Larry, who immediately lifted his head away.
‘It is not the critic ... who counts ... not the one who points out ... how the strong man stumbled or … how the ... doer of deeds ... might have done them better ...’
Forcing his eyes open, Dodge thought his solitary listener appeared enthralled, but realized his focus was not as sharp as it might have been.
‘The credit … belongs to the man ... who is actually in the arena ... whose face is … marred with ... sweat and dust and ... blood ... –’
‘Fucking soldier boys.’
All things being equal, Dodge could have resisted what happened next and maybe turned the tables. Without six inches of steel in his gut and a rising lake of blood that should not have been there either, he was physically Larry’s superior. As it was, Larry manhandled him with ease. Dodge was flipped over onto his front, his scream as the manoeuvre swiped the knife through his insides muffled by a face marred by nothing so poetic as sweat and dust and blood; only sand.
He couldn’t breathe. The coarse particles clogged his nose and filled his mouth. The last he knew was a hand delving into his back pocket to extract his wallet. A wallet that contained his driver’s license, printed with his home address.
Unwilling to keep any further information from his wife, Joey proceeded to tell Laura about the washroom incident and the business at Larry’s apartment. Laura was not impressed. Joey imagined that Roth himself could do little to surprise her any more; it was his handling of the affair that was starting to grate. The situation was now totally out of control and they both knew it. Joey staying mute about his ex-partner’s actions and intent during the coke bust no longer guaranteed Larry’s reasonable behavior – if it ever had done. Although Laura understood her husband threatening Larry, the emotions behind it, and was in fact amazed he had managed to stop short of murder, she thought it had most likely made matters worse. Larry’s brain was not working on the same wavelength. Where such threats would make a rational man toe the line, they could nudge a deranged individual right over the edge. Add a dose of enforced temporary paralysis to the mix and there was no saying how Larry might react.
‘Joey, you have to tell Captain Gilchrist about the other night.’
‘We’ve been through this,’ he said, then attempted a change of subject by beaming at the new-born, cradled in his mother’s arms. ‘God, he’s perfect.’
‘That’s right. Perfect. Untouched by the sickness of this world. He’s as pure as a human being can be, and we have to keep it that way as long as possible. You can help protect him, Joey. Not as a cop, as his father. I know you can only do so much – it’s a drop in the ocean – but right now you can make it so there’s one less psycho out there just waiting to hurt this little guy.’
As though responding to his mother’s fears for his future, DeCecco Junior began to cry, and was presented with a wholesome nipple not five minutes after getting off it. Joey had never witnessed such complete dependence. If just a fraction of Laura’s responsibility lay on his shoulders, then his purpose on this earth suddenly meant more than he could ever have envisaged. He had created a life, and for the first time in his own life he felt truly worthwhile. Inside him was an unprecedented sense of vulnerability that took his breath away. But Laura gave no quarter to the tears brimming in his eyes.
‘This is bigger than your career, Joey. Didn’t you realize that when you saw me strapping on that gun? Did you think I wanted to carry that thing around with me? I mean, Jesus ...’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You could have got us killed,’ she said, staring at the wisps of black hair on the babe’s scalp.
‘I’m sorry. Seeing you like this, with our son, I feel sick to my stomach to think I let things get this screwed up.’
‘But you’re not making it any better. Stop thinking like a cop, stop thinking like a Marine. Your chief role now is to be a father to this child, to protect him. Okay, so you’re here now and you’ve got a gun. Terrific. What happens a week from now? A month? You can’t be with us twenty-four seven, Joey. You need to start making some adult decisions.’
Joey was hurt by her unforgiving tone. ‘But I thought we agreed,’ he said. ‘I thought you didn’t want me to tell Gilchrist. Wasn’t that a decision we both made?’
‘No, Joey, you made it, so I tried to stand by you, but it should never have been an issue. You should have been in Gilchrist’s office the minute you suspected Larry wanted to go it alone.’
‘Hon, doesn’t the name Serpico ring any bells with you? Because it does with Larry; he made that crystal clear.’
DeCecco Junior had fallen asleep on the nipple, so Laura woke him up and proceeded to burp him.
‘Laura, talk to me.’
‘Okay, Joey, you couldn’t say anything before, I understand that. But after ... come on, it’s not like he shook down a hooker for a couple of bucks and a blow-job. This was major league. Seven people dead, one of them a cop, and Larry all set to run with the money. Your choice was to let him go or turn him in, but you did neither.’
Junior forestalled his father’s response by a loud burp which brought part of his meal back onto Laura’s shoulder. Joey grabbed a wet-wipe from a dispenser and mopped up the milky mess, then put his arm around his wife and perched on the bed.
‘Laura, I wanted us to be settled when he was born, not have Internal Affairs crawling up my ass while I looked for a new job. I may have to face criminal charges – withholding evidence.’
‘Cut a deal,’ she pleaded. ‘Can’t they give you immunity from prosecution or something? Maybe they’ll even let you keep your job, just give you a transfer someplace else. But I don’t care if you’re not a cop, I don’t care what you do. Long as we got each other, the three of us, we can make it.’
Joey believed her. Everything he needed was right there in that hospital room. He had always measured his self-worth by the size of the risks he was willing to take. Now, taking risks for some sense of macho pride seemed stupid. Sacrifice meant nothing without a just cause, and his wife and son were just that.
‘I’ll call Gilchrist,
’ he said.
His cell was up to his ear and back down without a single digit being input. The knock on their room door came at the wrong time, as though testing Joey’s nerve, daring it to fail him. After the visitor had come and gone, would he have reconsidered? Had a bold new man emerged just a moment ago, or had he been shamed into merely peeking over the parapet to gauge the flak before ducking out of sight again? Joey could already sense doubt creeping in. Once he had been a part of the country’s military élite, now he might wind up as just another of America’s least wanted – disgraced, unemployed, and on trial. If he talked to Gilchrist.
‘Come in!’ Laura called.
The handle turned and the door opened. Laura’s midwife entered briskly. She smiled hello and unhooked the blood-pressure monitor from the wall.
‘Would daddy like to hold baby for a minute, please?’
Joey took his son while the midwife went about her business. The new life in his arms re-focused his priorities.
‘Don’t look so worried,’ the midwife said to Joey, having taken the reading. ‘They’re both doing really well. You can take them home in a couple or three days. Now, Laura, how’s his appetite?’
‘I’ll eat later,’ Joey said, staring at his son.
After a beat, the women simultaneously burst out laughing. Joey looked at them, then grinned like a banjo-playing hillbilly.
‘Oh ... this fellah.’
‘Feeding fine,’ Laura said to the midwife.
‘Good.’ She replaced the apparatus on the wall.
‘Thanks,’ Joey said, and returned his attention to his baby boy. He heard the midwife leave the room and was vaguely aware she had not closed the door behind her.
‘Joey,’ his wife said quietly.
‘Who’s going to break some hearts when he’s older, huh?’
‘Joey ...’
‘Yes, you are. Just like your dad before he met your mom.’
Laura’s voice was more insistent. ‘Joey.’
‘Mmm?’ He looked up and felt more like a criminal than ever.
Gilchrist was standing silently in the open doorway, letting his uniform establish his authority. He was cap in hand, but only literally. There was nothing in his expression to suggest he had come to beg or cajole.
‘And how are you, Laura?’ he asked, instantly pleasant.
‘Very well, thank you.’
‘The little one looks in rude health; very bonny. Have you a name for him?’
‘We’re still deciding.’
‘I see.’ Gilchrist stepped forward and closed the door. ‘May I make a suggestion?’
‘By all means.’
‘How about Lucky?’
Even before that comment, Joey had taken a dislike to Gilchrist’s I-know-something-that-you-don’t manner. He offered his superior officer a churlish stare.
‘If he says meow or woof in the next few minutes, maybe we will.’
‘I only say that because if he still has two parents by the end of the week, he will be extremely lucky.’
Joey looked at his wife and watched the color drain from her face. He experienced a burst of intense hatred towards his captain for that, but kept it inside. He guessed he had caused her far greater distress himself in recent days, and doubted Gilchrist would have made such a comment out of hand.
‘May I sit?’ Gilchrist asked, placing his cap and car keys on the trolley table over the foot of the bed.
Laura nodded and the captain sat stiffly on a visitor chair, body language already translating what was to come. Joey felt his guts roll with dread.
‘I wouldn’t ordinarily discuss police matters in front of an officer’s spouse,’ Gilchrist said, ‘especially not under these circumstances, but what I have to say concerns the both of you. An officer from the Pacific Division has contacted me about a suicide. A woman by the name of Marie Olsen killed herself a short while ago. Put a gun to her head.’
The information was left hanging like it was supposed to mean something.
‘What’s that got to do with us?’ Joey asked.
‘They lifted some prints off the weapon used. Most were smudged but they managed to get a couple of clean ones off the mag. Yours, Joey.’
‘What?’
‘A Sig Sauer. Laser sighting. Ring any bells?’
Joey closed his eyes and nodded, and Laura carefully took Junior back from him.
Gilchrist continued: ‘The deceased woman has a daughter named Hayley. Larry Roth is married to a woman named Hayley, whose maiden name happens to be Olsen. This is no coincidence. So let me speculate. You provided your wife with this weapon for the purpose of self-defense, specifically with Larry Roth in mind. She pulled it on him at the Beverly Center but went into labor, which put the gun in Roth’s possession. He took the gun to Marie Olsen’s house where she somehow managed to get it away from him.’
Joey opened his eyes and began his confession by refuting Gilchrist’s assumption.
‘Sir, it wasn’t suicide. However it may have appeared, she didn’t kill herself. He did it. Roth. Think about it: how could she have disarmed an experienced cop? He was searching for his wife, she gave him squat, and so he shot her.’
‘That was certainly the impression she wanted to give; she fired twice into the wall before killing herself. But it was suicide.’
‘I don’t believe it,’ Joey said.
‘Neither do I,’ Laura echoed, gently rocking the babe, perhaps more as a comfort to herself.
‘You’ve heard of a cadaveric spasm?’ Gilchrist said to Joey.
‘Of course. Where instant death causes the hand to clutch whatever’s in it.’
‘Right. Marie Olsen’s grip on the Sig was vice-like.’
‘Isn’t that rigor mortis?’ Laura asked.
Joey had clicked to the implications, and explained the difference to his wife.
‘Rigor mortis comes slowly to a dead body, then leaves slowly. A cadaveric spasm is both instant and permanent. What the Captain’s saying is that she was definitely holding the weapon when she died.’
Laura frowned as though they were both missing a glaringly pertinent fact.
‘Couldn’t he have had his hand over hers?’
‘Yeah, what about that?’ Joey said, still keen to damn his ex-partner.
‘Sounds good,’ Gilchrist said, ‘but for one small detail. In Marie’s other hand was a photograph of her daughter. Also gripped tight. Now, if an attacker had forced a gun into your hand, attempting to aim it at your head, squeezing off shots trying to get one on target, wouldn’t you want your free hand empty to defend yourself? Wouldn’t you drop whatever was in it?’
There was no need to answer.
‘Apparently, Marie Olsen was riddled with cancer. She must have thought she had nothing to lose by framing her son-in-law. Now, I assume in light of Roth’s recent spousal battery that Marie was trying to protect her daughter from further harm. That makes sense to me.’ Gilchrist fixed Joey with a glare, and did not spare Laura the same. ‘So what I need to know is why you both were so convinced he had a mind to commit murder.’
Joey and Laura exchanged a look while Gilchrist kept up the pressure.
‘Because it would appear that Roth is thinking much the same way as you were a minute ago – I don’t think he realizes she failed to put him in the frame. Eye-witness reports have him leaving the house like a bat out of hell. He clearly believes he’s now the prime suspect in a murder case, so if he feels he has any scores left to settle, why would he not indulge himself? You see how this is stacking up? See why I’m concerned for the parents of little Lucky here? Joey, you knew Roth was dangerous even before this; for God’s sake, your pregnant wife has been walking around with a gun. And if you’re about to tell me it wasn’t because of Roth, explain your reaction yesterday at the station when you found out he was here with her.’
‘Okay,’ Joey said, holding a hand up. ‘Okay. Believe it or not, I was about to give you a call when the midwife came in. I had the phon
e in my hand.’
‘You can make me believe it by talking now,’ Gilchrist said. ‘Tell me about the Armenians. I know you were there. Tell me about them.’
‘I will. I’ll give you Larry Roth, but I need a few minutes alone with my wife first.’
‘It can wait,’ Gilchrist told him.
‘It can’t. Go and get a coffee. And close the door on your way out.’
Gilchrist bristled but evidently realized Joey was the third person that day who had nothing to lose. His brief career in law enforcement was over; rudeness would not make things any worse. Gilchrist stood up and left the room, closing the door behind him.
With Gilchrist out of earshot, Joey twisted to face his wife. He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him short.
‘Tell me you’re not having second thoughts.’
‘Babe, I’ve had third, fourth and fifth thoughts about this, all in the last five minutes.’
‘But you’re still telling Gilchrist?’
‘No.’
‘What?’
‘You are.’
‘I am? Why can’t you?’
‘I need to do something.’
‘Like what, for Christ’s sake?’
‘I think I can find Hayley,’ he said.
‘So tell Gilchrist!’ she shouted.
‘Keep your voice down; I don’t want him back in here.’
She calmed herself with a deep sigh. ‘Tell him, Joey.’
‘If Hayley wants to come forward once Larry’s safely locked away, that’s her choice. She doesn’t trust the system and I sympathize. If she did, she’d have put him through the courts for beating on her. Now, I don’t know who she’s with, but they’ve protected her once already so I’m not about to take her away from them. All I’m gonna do is warn whoever’s with her that Larry’s on the prowl and advise them to lie low until he’s out of the picture.’
Laura looked on the verge of launching a tirade against him, then softened. ‘That’s it after this, Joey. Promise me.’
‘I promise. And you’ll be safe. Just tell Gilchrist not to leave this room until I get back. Anyway, Larry’s not coming here. He wants his wife, not you. And if he’s given up on that, he’ll be halfway to Mexico.’
