Harry Watt Bounty Hunter

by Rob Guy

  “We need to wave,” Harry said to Heidi.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Not this time. Please. I do feel guilty for killing Jonny. We should give him a good send off.”

  Heidi put up her hands in supplication. “I don’t believe it. I’m actually going to do this. Okay, sugar pie, where’s the birdie?”

  “Right there.” Chisato pointed.

  “That’s right,” said Larry, as the three of them waved their farewell to the departing parrot.

  “Safe journey,” Harry added.

  “Is he gone?” asked Heidi.

  “Birdie gone,” said Chisato, and buried her head in Heidi’s legs. “Larry-san show me trick now,” she added, emerging round the other side. Heidi stroked her hair.

  “Oh yes.” Larry produced a Ping-Pong ball from his pocket, and placed it in his mouth. He then pulled the kind of face you do when you’re constipated. Chisato laughed and pointed at him. Larry stood up and the ball was lying on the chair. Harry too thought it worthy of levity, and clapped along with Angel’s baby sister. Heidi just shook her head.

  “I need to sit down,” she announced. She went and sat back on the couch.

  “Lovely girl,” said Larry.

  “Which one?”

  “Touché, mon ami. You’re a lucky man, Harry. These are good people, honorable. They’ll stick by you if you do the same.”

  “I know. Thanks for the re-assurance. What’s up?”

  “I have been doing a little scouting around. You were right about it being too easy. Hackman didn’t expect you to find Rogers so quickly. He was hoping to get you bang to rights for his murder, but you going straight to Jonny’s changed everything. Of all the bars in all the city you walked straight into the right one.”

  “Bit of luck, for a change. But he still killed him.” Larry waited as he always did. Harry clicked his fingers. Chisato looked up and tried to imitate him. “Of course! So who was the poor guy he killed to make it look like a murder-suicide?”

  “Just some homeless guy who’d been hanging round the park. Wrong place at the wrong time. The official line is Rogers was this guy’s boss. He was waiting for him to come out of the office, and killed him out of revenge for getting fired.”

  Harry closed his eyes briefly, and clenched his fists. “That goddamn son of a …..”

  “Hey! Language,” Heidi called from the couch.

  “Sorry,” Harry replied, one hand raised.

  “And what are you two talking about? Do you think it’s for the ears of a child? Chisato, over here, now please.”

  Chisato pulled a face. Harry told her with a slight nod of the head that she should do as she was told. Larry too told her she should go. “I’ll make sure we speak again soon, okay?” he said.

  “Okay.” She turned and went to re-join Heidi.

  “Cute kid,” said Larry.

  “They all are, cute I mean. That’s why….” Harry had to stop himself. He pulled another chair over and sat almost head to head with his old partner. “I can’t risk anything happening to them,” he began in a low voice. “In so short a time they’ve all become very important to me. I can’t explain it more than that.”

  “Jeez, Harry, you’re getting soft.”

  “It’s a good thing I know you well enough to know you’re joking, otherwise you’d be out of that chair by now.”

  “That would be a neat trick, me being dead and all.”

  Harry chuckled. He was silent for a moment. “Well, it’s plain to me now that Hackman and Hammerstein are one and the same.”

  “Agreed.”

  “When I confronted Rogers, he had no idea who Hammerstein was. Hackman got him before I could ask any more questions.” Harry took a moment. He leant forward to put his elbows on his knees, hands clenched under his chin. “Damn. Hackman, Headlock, and Tyrell. They’re all in this together. Have to be.”

  Larry was nodding sagely.

  Harry straightened back up. “This is all starting to tie in with the pseudo-asbestos onboard the Dragonfly. Which reminds me, I’ve still got to get Raquel off there.”

  “I have a feeling that’s been taken care of, despite my wishes to the contrary.”

  “What? How?”

  “I’m not clear on all the details, but events were set in motion that will make that happen.”

  “Forgive me, old buddy, but I will need more assurance than an after-life hunch.”

  Larry pretended to look put out. “Harry, I’m upset. Fancy not putting faith in the undead.”

  “I know. Call me old fashioned.”

  “Well you won’t be able to get anywhere near the ship. There is tight security at the moment.”

  “What happened? Is it to do with me?”

  “Don’t be such a self-centred ass. One of the crew was found dead, an old guy, part of the security staff.”

  Harry got that kick in the stomach feeling again. “Oh no, not him.”

  “Who?”

  “I’m guessing it’s Bruce. Although I hated him at the time for ruining my chances with Raquel, he was a sweet old guy, really. Close to retirement. Jesus!” Harry kicked the floor, and raised his voice, causing Heidi and Chisato to look up. Heidi was reading quietly from an old hardback.

  “I’m not clear on any details,” said Larry, “but I met him briefly on his way up. Names don’t really mean anything once your time’s up. But I’m guessing you’ll be right. With all the security I would say foul play is suspected.”

  “Goddamn it!” Again Harry hit the floor with his foot.

  “Is this going to go on much longer?” asked Heidi. “Have you any idea how stupid you look talking to the wall, kicking and swearing?”

  “She’s right,” said Larry. “It was a smart move introducing me, especially now you’ve explained what they mean to you. But it’s time for me to go. Time’s running on, Harry boy. I can’t really wait much longer.”

  “Hold on. What do you mean?”

  Larry was hesitant. “It’s like this. I’ve been granted a stay. But if you don’t finish this soon, I’m going somewhere I don’t particularly want to go.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “Trust me, neither do I.”

  “How soon? And where?”

  “How soon I’m not entirely sure. Time is linear for you; over here it means nothing, unless you’re in limbo. As for where, well, use that sharp intellect of yours. Turn around, buddy, and make sure Chisato is looking the other way.” Larry smiled, but it was lacking in sincerity. For the first time, Harry saw the beginnings of fear in his late partner’s eyes.

  “I’ll get this done, Larry. Keep the faith my friend.” He stood up and returned to the couch. He made sure Chisato was occupied as Larry departed. They all felt the brief rush of cold air.

  “Right,” said Harry clasping his hands together, “who wants cocoa?”

  18

  In Court

  “Court is in session,” said the clerk. “All rise for the Honorable Judge Smitkin.”

  “Pfft, honorable,” said Luke under his breath.

  The entire court stood up as a familiar figure came stuttering into the room. Harry was still recovering from Luke’s unexpected remark so that he didn’t look at the Judge until they were told to sit. So soon as he gazed across to see his chief facilitator, all things became clear. He looked over at both Heidi and Dolores, who were seated together in the public gallery, with Chisato squirming and restless between them. Heidi wore her widest smile, and so too Dolores. The latter winked at him.

  This is going to be a cakewalk.

  “You may sit,” said Judge Smitkin, taking his own chair, and throwing back his scarlet robe. “Derek, first case, please.”

  “Yes, M’lud,” replied the clerk rising. “First case is State versus Harold Alphonse Watt. Case numbers 12345X and 12345Y. Case X Read: Failure to renew Bailsman license. A statutory fine of 1,100 credits has been paid. It just remains, M’lud, for you to issue the standar
d caveat and pronounce the suspended sentence common with this offence.”

  “Indeed,” said Smitkin.

  “And Case Y Read: Assault of a police officer whilst performing his duties. Defendant has pleaded guilty with one mitigating circumstance, that of protection of a minor.”

  “Yes, I see,” said the Judge, reading from his own copy of the charges.

  “If I may, M’lud,” said the prosecutor, standing up.

  “You may not, Mr Hamm. The fine has been paid. I am therefore satisfied that case X may be put to bed.”

  Harry heard both Heidi and Dolores giggle.

  “With all due respect, M’lud, am I not entitled to cross-examine this defendant?”

  The Judge sighed, and removed his reading glasses. “You are indeed, Mr Hamm, but these cases are pretty open and shut. Ha ha! Case X is a simple failure to renew a license, that’s all, not a bloody fraud case or whatever. The fine has been paid. Case Y is slightly more serious, I grant you. However, the defendant has pleaded guilty, albeit with mitigation.”

  “Nevertheless, M’lud, my right to cross-examine remains.”

  The Judge let out a more than adequate sigh and glared down at the young prosecutor. Harry had to admire the man’s determination in the face of some fearful intimidation. “Very well, Mr Hamm, you may proceed. And by the way, please do not trouble yourself again to remind me of the law in my own courtroom, there’s a good chap.”

  Judge Smitkin, glasses in hand, waved his consent before replacing them on his nose, and returning to his notes.

  “What’s he up to?” Harry whispered through his teeth to Luke.

  “No idea,” he replied. “He’s entitled to ask you questions.”

  “I thought this was all done, open and shut to paraphrase our good Judge?”

  “It is. He’s got nothing on you unless there’s something you haven’t told me.”

  Harry thought quickly. He had informed Luke about the attack on Angel. He was ready for that if either of those bastards came forward. The murder nonsense had been cleared up, so what could it be?

  “Just answer his questions. If I need you to stop I’ll tug your sleeve or something.”

  After the initial surprise, Harry set himself. He knew how to handle this. He had been in court before whilst with the Bureau. His sergeant’s advice came to the fore yet again.

  “Never freely offer information. And remember. They only ask questions they already know the answer to, or think they do.”

  The prosecutor turned to face Harry. “Mr Watt.”

  Harry stood up. “Yes?”

  “That is your name I take it?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “So it’s not Larry Watkins?”

  “No.”

  “Or Manny O’Hanlon?”

  “No.”

  “It’s not, you say. But you do know those individuals, yes?”

  “You know I do. Otherwise why ask me the question?”

  “Mr Watkins was your partner on the Bureau was he not?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long were you together?”

  “Together? We weren’t married.”

  A chuckle ran through the room.

  “Please refrain from levity, Mr Watt,” said Smitkin in a tired voice. “That way we can finish this a whole lot sooner.”

  “Yes, M’lud.”

  “Thank you. And you will address me as, your Honor.”

  “Yes, your Honor.”

  “Proceed, Mr Hamm.”

  “Thank you, M’lud. Let me re-phrase. How long was he your partner, your working partner, whilst with the Bureau?”

  “Twelve years, give or take.”

  “I see. Was he a good partner?”

  “Depends what you mean.”

  “Mean?”

  “I’m asking you to be specific.”

  More sniggering round the court. The Judge took umbrage again, but this time with the prosecutor. “Mr Hamm, either get to the point or sit down. Really really. You’d better be going somewhere with this.”

  “Indeed I am, M’lud. In fact I am getting there right now. I put it to you, Mr Watt, that you are indeed not Mr Watt at all, that you are in fact Larry Watkins himself, and have been masquerading as him since you arrived on the Station.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” said Harry. “My dead partner? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “This!” Hamm thrust a piece of paper under Harry’s nose. “Read it, please,” he said, turning and smiling at the courtroom.

  “This is a daily log for Delilah’s, dated the 14th. Jeez, I didn’t know they kept logs. No video I hope!” Again the room chuckled, and the Judge had to bang his gavel.

  “It is purely for tax purposes, I assure you,” Hamm informed him. “That and for instances like these.”

  “And what is this instance?” asked Harry.

  “Please read out the fifth name on the list.”

  Harry looked. “Er, Elmer Fudd.”

  The Judge coughed.

  “Sorry, the sixth name, please,” said Hamm, his expression glazing slightly.

  “Larry Watkins.”

  “Larry Watkins. Thank you. So I put it to you, Mr Watt. How can your dead partner be visiting a brothel when he is in fact dead?”

  “Simple. I used the name.”

  “You used the name. You freely admit that?” Hamm was getting excited.

  “Well of course I didn’t use my own name. I mean, who does?”

  The Judge coughed again.

  “But you were there?”

  “Of course.”

  “I can vouch for that!” Dolores called from the gallery, causing more laughter.

  The Judge banged and banged his gavel and started to go red in the face. “Silence!” he bellowed. “Mr Hamm, you have exactly one minute to conclude this nonsense or I shall hold you in contempt. And no more outburst from the gallery!” Boy, was he mad.

  “Er yes. Just a second, M’lud.” Hamm fumbled through his records before pulling a sheet out and reading it quickly. “Yes! Yes, here it is. Okay, Mr Watt, how about this? You are prepared to testify that Harry Watt is indeed your name?”

  “Yes, I am indeed prepared to testify to that fact.”

  “Well, I put it to you again that your name is not Harry Watt, but is in fact Larry Twat! Do you deny this?”

  “Well of course I do. Who the hell is Larry Twat?”

  “He’s you!” shouted the prosecutor, pointing a long accusing finger at Harry.

  “He’s not me.”

  “Is too!”

  “Is not!”

  “Is too!”

  “Is not!”

  “Is too too too!”

  “Mr Hamm!” The Judge banged his gavel yet again, his grey wig flapping cheerfully. “Contain yourself, man. What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?”

  “Look! Look here, M’lud. Look at my court sheet. What does it say?”

  The Judge leaned forward and took the sheet from the clerk. He was a few seconds perusing it before shaking his head. He looked for all the world like he was the only sane one in it.

  “Mr Hamm, this is clearly a typo, two in fact. I have it on good authority that the man before us, before you as well, is undoubtedly Mr Harry Watt, Bailsman. Did Doris type this up for you?”

  “She did.”

  “What’s the day?” Someone called out Wednesday. “Oh yes, Wednesday. Ah. Pseudo-golf with Jeremiah.” The Judge made some notes. “Now then. I take it Doris wasn’t wearing her glasses today. On Wednesday she meets her friend Edward at the Savoy for lunch and a show. Everyone knows this except you, apparently. She believes that by not wearing her glasses it makes her appear younger. Humph! If only that were true. Anyway, you should always go to Stella if you’re in court on a Wednesday. Twenty-twenty that woman has. Remarkable for a lady her age. Pity we can’t say the same about Doris.”

  “But, but, but,” the poor man stuttered.

  “But all you want, Mr Hamm. It
’s not going to happen, not today.”

  Prosecutor Hamm’s shoulders dropped, and he was abruptly half the man he was a minute before. With all the presence of a drowned puppy, he was led back to his seat, muttering, his hands by his side, his court paper screwed up inside a fist, his spirit crushed.

  “Mr Watt, you may sit down,” said Smitkin.

  “Wow, I didn’t know there was a cabaret on today,” he said to Luke.

  “He’s been trying for years to crack a really big case. Guess he thought he had you, Mr Twat.”

  “Ha. Nice one. What now?”

  “Your assault charge. Another formality according to Heidi.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Mr Watt, please stand,” said the Judge. “May I apologize for that unwarranted outburst from Mr Hamm. He has been under a lot of pressure lately. Er, Derek, get him some water or something.”

  “Yes, M’lud.” The clerk bowed and filled a glass from the pitcher. He put it in front of the unfortunate Hamm, but he simply stared ahead, evidently going through the case again, or plotting Doris’ disappearance. Who knows?

  “Mr Watt. In the case of failing to renew your bailsman license the fine has been paid. This satisfies the court. It remains for me to inform you that failure to renew again or to inform the relevant issuing authority, in this case, The Bailsman Authority of East America, of your wish to cancel your membership, will result in imprisonment up to but not exceeding thirty sidereal days. This will be suspended for two years. Do you understand?”

  “I do, your Honor.”

  “Counsel?”

  “I do, M’lud.”

  “Good. Now, in light of the prosecuting counsel’s last outburst, I will dispense with counsel on your next charge if your counsel has no objections.”

  “None, M’lud,” Luke replied.

  “Thank you. On the charge of assault I see you have entered a plea of guilty with mitigating circumstances, that of protection of a minor.”

  “Yes, your Honor.”

  “Your plea is accepted. However, I do not take lightly any attack on the police who are merely doing their job, and a very tough one it is, too. Therefore I sentence you to six months, suspended for three years with a 5,000 credits fine, plus court costs.”