Scapegoat

by Kristine Williams

  "He assists us now and again on a purely scientific level." Simon interjected. "What about an argument last week? Ms Fisher says you and Wilson were going at it in his office on..." Simon checked the notebook he was holding. "Tuesday. She says you threatened him."

  "That isn't true." Blair replied, shaking his head. "I haven't spoken to him for some time, until tonight. He didn't care for my research and he made that plain every chance he got. I avoided him whenever possible. But I would never threaten him."

  "Did he have any influence regarding your studies, Mr Sandburg?"

  Blair shrugged. "He spoke out against my research several times. He's been around longer, and always felt he had more influence with the Board."

  Jim knew that wasn't going to help his case any. "What about this Kathy Fisher, who is she to Wilson?" he interjected.

  DA Walters opened her file then, "She's his assistant. Apparently, she was going to accompany him on this research trip. She was also your assistant, for a few months, Mr. Sandburg. She seemed rather distraught over the fight from the other week." She looked up from the file. "Mr Sandburg, can you tell us, who would want to kill Professor Wilson?"

  "No."

  "Can you tell us how the murder weapon got from your office downstairs, up to the Professors office, then back down again?"

  "No." Blair replied again.

  "Can anyone confirm that you were alone in your office the entire time? Did the phone ring at all? Did anyone see you walking out to your car?"

  Blair shook his head at each question. "No."

  Jim was going to interject something when the door opened. A uniformed officer handed a file to Simon.

  "Jim, Miss Walters, you want to step out here for a moment?" Simon stood and left the room, not looking back at anyone.

  Jim patted Blair on the shoulder but said nothing in response to the look of panic that crossed his friend's face. He followed Walters out the door, leaving Blair alone with the stenographer. "Simon, what is it?"

  "The forensics report just came in on the murder weapon." Simon waved the file he was holding. "Sandburg's fingerprints are the only ones. He had opportunity, and motive. And he owned the murder weapon, which just happened to come from his own office." Simon sighed heavily, "Jim, this has to be done."

  "No, Simon. He didn't murder Wilson." Jim knew it was going to happen, and there was nothing he could do.

  "Right now he's our only suspect." Walters said. "He'll have his chance, but I want him booked for the murder of Professor Wilson right now."

  Jim felt something inside sink. A uniformed officer stepped forward and Jim put his hand out, stopping him. "No, I'll do it." He couldn't let someone else take Blair into custody. This whole mess was piling up deeper, but he knew there was an explanation. He wasn't going to have his friend, still sitting there cold and shivering, be handcuffed and led away by anyone else. They had been in tough spots before, they'd get out of this one as well.

  "All right Jim, but you do this by the book." Simon said, pulling handcuffs out of his pocket.

  "No Simon, that isn't necessary."

  "Jim, by the book. We have to do this right all the way. Sandburg's life may depend on technicalities." he held out the cuffs. "He'll get a chance for bail at the hearing tomorrow morning."

  Jim reluctantly accepted the cuffs and entered the room. Blair looked up expectantly and he stopped beside the chair. "I'm sorry Chief. There's nothing to worry about here, we'll get this taken care of, I promise."

  Blair stood slowly, looking at Jim. "Jim, you know me. This is crazy."

  "I know. Come on, let's just get this over with and get you out of here. I'm sorry." Jim indicated the handcuffs and Blair turned around, a look of shock and fear crossing his face. He put his hands behind his back and Jim found it very difficult to cuff him. Blair Sandburg was not a criminal, and yet he was forced to treat him as exactly that. He wanted to take him home, not downstairs to Central Booking. He had to swallow hard against what he was about to say. "You have the right to remain silent..."

  "God, Jim."

  "Anything you say may be held against you. You have the right to an attorney, and to have them present during questioning." He faltered for a moment, but this had to be done. It had to be done right for Blair's sake. "Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?" Blair simply nodded, not looking at him.

  "Don't worry, Sandburg. By tomorrow morning you'll be out on bail and we'll get this straightened out." His friend turned then, hands cuffed behind his back, and looked at him. A look of complete helplessness flashed through his eyes. Gone was his famous lost puppy glance. It had been replaced by that of a deer caught in the headlights. And Jim couldn't help but feel like a passenger in the car.

  * * *

  Blair felt numb as he was led down the corridor to Central Booking. How could this be happening? How could Jim let this happen? Someone took off the handcuffs and Blair realized he was being fingerprinted. Where was Jim? He had said something about arranging bail, then left Blair with these officers. The last time he'd had this done was when he filled out his Observer paperwork. He'd been one of the good guys, then. What was he now? Just another suspect? He watched silently as they printed both hands. This wasn't supposed to happen to innocent people. What in the hell was going on? Professor Wilson, murdered! Why someone would kill the Professor, Blair didn't understand. But why they would try and make it look as though it had been him, Blair didn't want to understand. To hate another man, enough to kill, well he had seen a lot of that lately. But to frame another man for it? No matter how many times he witnessed the results of such an anger, he had never before been a part of it. They were taking his picture now. Blair found he couldn't look the officers in the face. They were treating him just like another suspect. Yesterday he was Jim's partner. Today, what was he? He had never felt truly liked by Jim's co-workers. He wasn't stupid, he knew they merely tolerated him for Jim's sake. He heard more than one passing remark about his appearance almost daily. They questioned why the best Detective in the Precinct would refuse a partner, and yet take on this kid.

  Someone handcuffed him again and he was led towards the elevator at the far end of the hall.

  "Looks like Ellison's going to have to get himself a real partner, now. Can't say I'm surprised." someone said behind him. Blair turned to see who it was but only saw several uniformed officers watching him being led down the hallway. Who had said that, he wasn't sure.

  The holding cells were down several flights. He knew this was a mistake, he knew Jim would find out what had happened and get him out of here. But just then he felt, for the first time in a long time, truly alone. They approached the holding cell and Blair looked up, forcing his mind to return to the here and now. There were three cells. One was empty, and he prayed they would put him in there. One was occupied by three scantily-clad women, the other held several men Blair would have gone out of his way to go around if he saw them on the street.

  Blair was led to the third. As the door was opened his cuffs were removed and he was pushed inside. "Have fun." the officer said under his breath, laughing a little.

  The occupants had moved to the far side as ordered, but immediately came forward as the officer secured the door. Blair turned away from them and moved to a corner, trying very hard not to make eye contact. At first, they were willing to ignore him as he pressed himself into the corner where the bars met. He kept an eye on the officer at the desk, thinking that as long as he was sitting there, nothing was going to happen. Jim would get him out, just as soon as he could. But how soon was that?

  "My my, there's a pretty one." Someone in the back laughed, and pushed his way through the bodies to stand in front of Blair. He looked up quickly, noting the man's size. He was as tall as Jim, but at least twice his weight. "You look familiar, pretty boy."

  Blair turned away. God, this isn't happening! He wanted to call out for the officer, but he was looking away. Surely here in the holding cell inside the Precinct, noth
ing was going to happen? A little verbal abuse, maybe. Some intimidating. He could handle that. He knew it would be best to try and ignore them, not provoke them in any way. But he was running out of space as the bigger man drew closer.

  "Yeah, I know you." he said, standing now just inches away. "You work with that cop Ellison, right?" Several others behind him began to agree, moving closer. "You a cop too?"

  Blair looked up then, scanning the faces that were pressing in on him. They looked somewhat familiar, but he thought it was just a vague 'criminal' resemblance. "No, I'm not." he replied, suddenly understanding what they were thinking. He glanced over to the desk. The officer on duty was still looking away, but surely...

  "Yeah, I think you are. That Ellison busted me twice before. Thanks to him, I'm on my third strike," the big one continued.

  "Maybe they want to give us a treat, before we go?" someone else said.

  "Yeah. How about three strikes, and you're out?"

  Oh God! Before Blair could react, the big man was on him, pulling his head around by the hair with one hand, the other pressing into his throat as the fingers curled around his neck. He was pushing Blair's back into the bars, digging fingers into the flesh of his throat. Instinctively Blair kicked out, but his attacker was too close, and other arms were grabbing him, holding him pinned against the bars.

  "They can't do any more to me. Three strikes, I'm out," the big one was saying. "So, I think I'll give Ellison a little send-off."

  Blair didn't see the fist that smashed into his face, forcing his head violently into the bars behind him. The next blow was to his gut, and the sudden, violent pain would have doubled him over if he wasn't being held upright. More pain shot through him as another, then another fist slammed into his stomach. He wanted to fall to the floor, to protect himself, but they were holding him, pinning his arms against the bars. Another fist contacted his stomach and he cried out with the pain. The air was forced violently out of his lungs and black spots danced across his eyes. The pain was increasing with each blow. Where was the officer? Why was this happening? Pain was clouding his mind. God, it hurts! Another fist struck his jaw and he tasted blood. Another into his stomach and he cried out again as another, more violent stabbing pain shot through his gut. It felt as if the fists were going through him. God, stop! He was hit again and his knees buckled. The hands holding him up let go, and he fell to the floor, doubled over, crying out as a booted foot struck his side. He rolled over, holding his arms up to protect himself. The big one reached down and Blair tried to push him away. The pain was too much, he had no strength against his attacker. Large hands wrapped around the collar of his shirt and he was lifted half off the floor. He gasped at the pain as he tried to fight back with muscles that no longer wanted to respond. Somewhere through the intensity that was stabbing through his gut, he realized the cell door was opening. Finally. But the officers who came rushing in were too late to stop the huge fist from slamming into his cheek, sending him almost gratefully into blackness, away from the pain.

  Part 3

  * * *

  "How could this happen Simon? He was in a holding cell. Where was the officer in charge?"

  "I said I didn't know, Jim. Now calm down. It's being investigated."

  Blair heard voices, somewhere in the distance. It was dark, and he felt like he was floating, hearing the voices drift across the wind. He didn't want to join them, so he just listened, allowing himself to remain in that soft darkness.

  "You know these things can happen pretty quick with a group like that."

  "I don't understand why he was put in there in the first place. There was another cell. God, Simon, he wasn't even in there for an hour."

  "I know Jim. I said we're looking into it."

  The voices seemed to be getting closer. Or was he drifting towards them? The side of his face was beginning to throb, and there was a distant memory of pain creeping back into his stomach. The pain began to increase as the voices drew near. His stomach hurt, but not from being sick. He could taste blood in his mouth, down his throat. He vaguely remembered something striking him, over and over in the abdomen.

  "The bail you posted was approved, you can take him home when they release him. Are you sure you can handle this case? I shouldn't let you."

  "I can handle it, Simon."

  "I could get in trouble for this, you're too involved. But, there's no one else available. And I think it's safe to say, with the evidence stacking up, Sandburg's best chance is with you on the case."

  "Thanks Simon."

  Blair didn't want to get any closer to the voices. The pain was building again. He wanted to pull his legs up, to curl into a ball and hug himself against the throbbing, but to do that required stomach muscles that didn't want to be used.

  "Doctor, how is he?"

  "Lucky." Blair didn't feel lucky. A third voice moved closer, and he felt hands touching him. "The x-rays are clear, no broken bones. No internal bleeding. Very lucky."

  Blair still didn't feel lucky. The voices were clear now, as was the stabbing pain in his gut.

  "He's going to be very sore for some time, but I think we can send him home in another 24 hours."

  Blair heard someone moan softly, then there was a hand on his shoulder and he realized it had been him. He didn't want to open his eyes, didn't want to acknowledge the fact that he was in a hospital. That would mean he hadn't been dreaming it all. That he hadn't just eaten Chinese food with too much MSG and had a bad night.

  "Mr Sandburg, just lie still." The third voice was leaning over him. He moaned again, turning his head away in an effort to return to the floating darkness. "He'll be drifting in and out for a few hours." Why couldn't he drift out again? His stomach hurt with each breath, and his face and jaw were throbbing.

  "I've got to get back to the station. Jim, keep me informed. I'll check on this little incident myself."

  "Thank you, Simon."

  Blair reluctantly opened his eyes then, seeing a blurred image of Simon leaving the room he was in. There was a man in a white coat standing over him, and someone else farther back. Jim?

  "Mr Sandburg, you've taken quite a beating. Just lie still. You're going to be fine. Do you understand?"

  Blair tried to speak but his mouth was dry, and his split lip too sore to move. He simply nodded then, trying to focus his vision on the man at the far end of the room. He wanted Jim closer. Nothing was going to be fine until Jim told him it was all over, all a bad dream. He swallowed against the dryness and a wet cloth was touched to his lips by a nurse he hadn't even seen. Gratefully he swallowed the water that dripped into his mouth. He wanted to take a deep breath, so he could call to Jim, make him come closer, but when he tried, pain stabbed into his stomach again and he had to close his eyes tightly against it.

  "He needs to rest, Detective. If you'd like to come back tonight, I'm sure he'll be feeling better."

  No, Jim.

  "Okay, thanks Doc."

  Wait.

  "Hang in there, Sandburg, I'll be back."

  He forced his tired eyes open just as the door was shutting behind his friend. Something pricked his arm and he quickly fell away, back into the fluffy darkness.

  There was a knock on the door and Blair opened his eyes, not sure if he had really heard anything.

  "Come in." His voice cracked, and he could barely manage any volume. It was late in the afternoon, and he was hoping Jim would come by soon. They'd kept him drugged through most of the day but he had been awake now for nearly an hour. He was sitting with the bed propped up so he could wrap both arms protectively around his stomach. Somehow he had managed to bend his knees and bring them closer too, for added protection against the constant, throbbing pain. The look on Jim's face as he entered the room told him he must look as good as he felt.

  "Hey, Chief. How are you feeling?" Jim crossed the room and stood at the side of the bed. He reached out and touched Blair's jaw, turning his head gently towards him for a better look at the purple bruises there
.

  "Tell me this is all over, and I'll tell you I feel fine." Blair replied. His voice was pretty quiet, but he knew Jim could hear him.

  "Blair, about what happened, in the holding cell. It's being investigated. Did Officer Nelson....?"

  Blair held up a hand, "No, Jim. Just let it go, okay?"

  "I can't do that, Chief. And why would I? You were in custody. There's a protection issue here. Prisoners are not supposed to get beaten up in the Precinct building."

  "No, Jim. Please, just let it go."

  Jim shook his head. "Why?"

  Blair cautiously took a deep breath, just enough to hold a sentence. "Jim, these guys, they're your friends....not mine," he replied, pausing for another breath. "They tolerate me, for your sake." Jim was still shaking his head. "Yes, Jim. I'm not stupid, I know how they feel. Last night I was a cop to the guys in the cell, and a criminal to the cops. Just let it go, please?" His friend looked away for a moment, locating a chair. When he pulled one up next to the bed and sat down, his face was even with Blair's. "It's not over yet, Chief. But you don't have to go back. They'll let you out of here tomorrow morning and you can come home."

  "For how long?" he asked. "Jim, what the hell's going on? I don't understand any of this." He had to stop then. Speaking used more muscles than he had ever realized before.

  "Someone has you framed, and it's pretty good." Jim replied, almost admiringly, Blair thought. "Don't worry, we've been in thicker than this. Remember Jack?"

  Blair nodded. But it was Jim who'd been a suspect then, not Blair. This was too personal.

  "I've been to the University today. This Kathy Fisher, she didn't care much for her Professor did she?"

  Blair shook his head, "Not exactly. He was a hard man to get to like." he replied, trying and failing to add volume to his voice. "Reminded me of Simon."

  Jim laughed a little. "Yeah, well. Some people are like that. I hear she was his research assistant for the past eight months. Why stay with someone like that for so long?"