The Heartless

by David Putnam

She hadn’t taken down the photos of her and her life partner, Delilah, a blond, blue-eyed beauty. They had been together for fifteen years but separated a couple of years back. At the time, Gloria had been devastated, and I didn’t think she’d ever get over it. I understood the loss of love. I’d lost Sonya for an illogical reason. I understood how it had happened but couldn’t fathom, no matter how hard I tried, why it couldn’t be fixed, with reason and logic in a conversation between two mature adults.

  I had tracked Delilah down and tried to talk some sense into her, but she’d have none of it. She’d already moved on to another relationship. I didn’t understand how that could happen so fast. If you loved someone, you loved them for an eternity.

  Wicks slammed the phone down and turned to face me, his eyes angry. “Well, that about tears it.”

  “What?”

  He didn’t answer. His eyes stared off at nothing as he tried to work the problem just handed to him by the other party on the phone. Based on his anger, it was most likely the deputy chief. In his own mind, Wicks was working the options for any possible wiggle room. I’d seen him do it too many times in the past. His solution would usually mean a deviation from protocol, policy, or worse, the law.

  A detective came down the hallway carrying a black ball of fur. “Look at this. Someone dropped this pup in the clothes hamper in the bathroom. Poor little guy’s scared half to death.”

  I craved a distraction and took the puppy from the man. The dog climbed my chest and licked my face. Even under the terrible circumstances, I couldn’t help it. I smiled. Puppies can do that to you.

  Wicks walked by and let his shoulder bump into me on purpose.

  I followed. “Hey, you want to tangle. I’m ready. In fact, I’d be happy to oblige you.”

  Once outside the front door, he stopped and turned.

  “What is it? Tell me.” I asked.

  “You’re officially off the case.”

  “What the hell? How can that be?”

  He spun on his heel and took off for his car. I hurried to catch up. The black puppy kept his moist, warm nose right up by my neck as he snuffled and licked.

  Wicks said over his shoulder, “You can’t have that dog. It doesn’t belong to you. You’ll have to turn it over to Animal Control.”

  “What’s going on? What’s happened? How can they take me off the case?”

  He stopped dead and turned. I almost ran into him.

  He pulled his suit coat back and put his hands on his hips like he did when he readied for a speech, or to lecture an errant student who’d just made a near-fatal mistake on the street. “You’ve been reassigned.”

  “What? To where?” But I knew. Someone had found out about the thing with Nicky. Now I had just caught a midnight transfer back to the jail where I’d spend the rest of my career in a dimly lit cave filled with animals.

  “Here’s a bit of irony for you. You like irony, don’t you, Bruno?”

  “Just tell me.”

  “You’ve been reassigned to protect someone.”

  “Come on, what are you talking about? Who?”

  “Who do you think? Nicky Lau.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  WICKS TOOK OFF for the car without further explanation. The puppy struggled and whined as I hurried after him. Wicks tried to put the key in the driver’s-side door.

  “No, give me those.” With one hand, I took the keys and held the puppy in my other arm. Wicks hesitated, glaring at me. For a moment, I thought he might take a swing. He finally moved around to the passenger side. I reached over, unlocked the door for him, and he got in. I started up, juggling the puppy, trying to keep him corralled on my side of the seat. I suddenly caught a hint, a faint cold fear that Wicks, in his anger at me, might grab the puppy and toss him out the window of the moving car. The notion passed, and I was angry that I’d think such a thing.

  “You’re worried about me drinking and driving? That little shitass dog’s going to get us both killed. You wait and see if he doesn’t.”

  “Tell me. What’s going on? Why have I been reassigned to watch Nicky?”

  He ignored the question and went back to staring out the window. The puppy settled down with his head on my leg and went to sleep on his side with his belly exposed as if he feared nothing and no one. Under the circumstances, his warmth and the rise and fall of his little chest were a welcome comfort.

  I headed back the way we came, taking the same streets in reverse. I hit Sunset and took it west. Sunset Boulevard never slept. People prowled both sides of the street: hookers, drug users, and lost souls, all of them looking for something, Johns or an easy mark to clip or for a place in this world they’d never find. Cars slowed down to cruise as they watched the people on the sidewalks, everyone waiting for something to happen—to light off. And LAPD watched over them all. At dawn that wave of misguided humanity would recede and sleep until the sun set and the moon once again rose to start it all over.

  “Why have I been reassigned to protect Nicky Rivers?”

  Wicks wouldn’t look at me. He reached over and gently stroked the dog’s soft fur. “This guy’s going to be a monster. Look at the size of his paws. I’ve never seen paws this big on such a little guy. You going to keep him? Does your apartment allow you to have pets? You better let me take him.”

  I didn’t answer. I drove on into the predawn morning again, a little angry for even thinking Wicks would toss a helpless puppy out of a moving vehicle. I got on the 101 headed south. Wicks went back to staring out the window.

  He said, “You don’t want him, I’ll take him.”

  “I’m keeping him.”

  “All right, take it easy. What are you going to name him?”

  “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

  “Bruiser. That’s a good name for him. He’s going to be a huge dog.”

  “He’s my dog, though.”

  Wicks nodded as if he understood and again went silent.

  After a few more miles he spoke, this time without malice. “You and her, you do the ugly yet?”

  “What? No, of course not. I told you it’s not like that.”

  He looked over at me, his face in shadow. “Don’t give me that holier-than-thou shit. Like I’m supposed to know how far you’ve gone with her.”

  “I said no. You have my word on that.”

  “Like that means a lot after what you’ve done.”

  “I … never mind.”

  We again drove in silence.

  “You really didn’t know?” he asked.

  “It’s my fault. I never put it together. Her name, I mean. I didn’t do it on purpose. You know me better than that. There’s nothing underhanded or dirty about it. I’m just a fool for not asking, that’s all.”

  “How many women you know named Nicky? Not a helluva lot. I can damn well guarantee that much.” He went silent for a moment. “I tried to get the chief to assign you to Connors—he needs protection as well. But the chief said Connors nixed that idea. Connors told the chief, and I quote, ‘I hope Borkow, that little son of a bitch, does take a run at me. I’ll blow him right out of his designer kicks.’”

  “Yeah, Connors would say something like that. Don’t get many judges like him anymore.”

  “Now,” Wicks said, “the chief wants me to put the fox in the henhouse.”

  “That’s not fair, Robby. You do know that they’re separated, right?”

  “Not till day before yesterday, they weren’t. Lau said he never saw it coming. Blindsided him like a gut punch.”

  “What?” My foot involuntarily eased off the gas pedal. The car slowed a bit on the freeway. “That’s not what she told me, I swear, Robby. I’m not kidding. After I found out who she was, she told me they were separated. That they’d been separated for months.” The memory of her in my arms, of that last kiss, returned. She’d felt so real—like we belonged together. Maybe I’d been too long without feminine comfort, and I misinterpreted those feelings. Or maybe we were just meant to be t
ogether and it really was the lasting kind of chemistry that I shouldn’t spurn.

  “Yeah, right,” he said sarcastically. “And don’t call me ‘Robby.’ From now on I’m ‘Lieutenant’ to you.”

  I sped up again and muttered, “Oh, man.”

  “What?”

  “She said she’s having him served with papers this morning at 0830, at his office.”

  “Are you kidding me?” He raised his voice, angry again. “You know what? Don’t even talk to me, okay?” He shook his head. “Son of a bitch, how could you have screwed this up so bad?”

  “I can’t be on her protection detail, not after what’s happened.”

  He said nothing.

  “Lieutenant, you have to do something about this.”

  “You put me right in the middle, buddy boy. The chief and that whole brain trust at the top of the food chain think there’s a good chance Bleeker was only the beginning, and that Borkow’s going after Nicky and the judge next. The idea being that if we ever do catch up to Borkow and take him into custody, everyone will think twice about taking him to court, including the jury. We’d never be able to find a jury to convict him.

  “This is a public relations nightmare. The chief wants the violent crimes team pulled from the chase and put on Nicky and the judge. He said we can’t afford another murder. I told him I wanted someone else on Nicky. But he insisted on the best. And guess what, buddy boy, he thinks you’re best. I don’t know where the hell he got that lamebrain idea. So, short of going to the chief and telling him that you’ve been playing patty-cake with a lieutenant’s wife, you got the job. All I got to say is that you better not screw this up any more than you already have or both our heads are going to be on the chopping block. Now leave me alone and drive.”

  He scooted down in his seat and closed his eyes. In a few minutes he started to snore. Part of his hunter mentality allowed him to turn off everything in his world and grab some sleep wherever it came available. I wished I could do that.

  Let him sleep. I needed the solitude. I had plenty to think about.

  Especially the way Nicky had lied to me and why she’d felt the need.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  I PULLED UP and stopped in front of my apartment. I’d need my truck to go over to Nicky’s to be mobile if anything did happen. I looked over at the front door of our apartment and hoped like hell Olivia was still in there and that she hadn’t gone out looking for Derek.

  Without the motion of the car, the puppy roused and raised his head, ready to play. He jumped up and started licking my face, his paws on my chest. The young and the innocent always gave unconditional love without strings attached. I picked him up and nudged him over to Wicks. The puppy did the same for him and licked his face.

  “Hey. Hey, what the?”

  He moved to knock the puppy away, but I grabbed it before he could. “You okay to drive now?”

  “Sure. I was okay before.” He wiped the puppy slobber off with the back of his hand. “Now get out.”

  “What’s the status of the wiretap on Lizzette?”

  He fumbled with the door handle and stopped. He looked over at me. “That’s no longer any of your concern. You’re on babysitting duty, remember? After which you can go back to your nice, safe courtroom and hide out for the rest of your career.”

  He really did know how to push my buttons. “Did you find Lizzette or not?”

  “No. I have someone watching her pad in Santa Monica, but the landlady said she hasn’t been there in going on three weeks. So that’s a dead end. You have any other bright ideas?”

  “No, I’m just the babysitter, remember?”

  He clenched his jaw, grabbed the door handle, opened the door, and rolled out. I juggled the puppy and got out on my side, leaving the door open and the car running.

  He came around the front of the car, his hair mussed and his eyes bloodshot and heavy with sleep. I shouldn’t have talked to him like that. We’d had a lot of good times together, and he’d pulled my cookies out of the fire more than once. And I had returned those same favors in kind. I’d been the one in the wrong, stepping out with Nicky, and my ignorance was no excuse.

  I stood in the open door of the car.

  “Well, you gonna move?”

  I held out my hand as a peace offering. “I just want to say I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, yeah, tell it to your priest.”

  I let my hand drop. “Can you please give me Nicky’s address?”

  He froze. His mouth sagged open. After a second, he recovered and wagged his finger at me. “Nice try. You’re telling me you’ve been laying the pipe to her and you don’t know where she lives? No way, I’m not buying it.”

  “Really, I’m telling you, I don’t know.”

  “Then if that’s the case, you’re a detective, you figure it out.” He nudged me out of the way, got in, and took off. I watched the red taillights until they made the turn at the end of the street. I didn’t know how I was going to make him understand, how I’d make him believe that nothing physical had happened between me and Nicky, or that I really hadn’t known that she was married to Lau.

  I unlocked the door to the apartment and found the kitchen casting light into the darkened living room. Olivia lay curled up on the couch sleeping with an afghan covering her. She used to always wait up for me sleeping on the couch. Sometimes though, when chasing a murderer, I didn’t come home for days at a time. I never realized until that moment what it must’ve been like for her. I’d been an insensitive fool.

  I set the puppy down. He jumped up on my legs, wanting to be picked up. I moved around him and headed over to the couch. The puppy followed and caught sight of Olivia. He ran and put his paws up on the cushion and licked her face. She startled and opened her eyes.

  “A puppy, really? Is he for me? I’ve always wanted a puppy.” She picked him up and giggled as the dog bounced around and licked her face, excited that she was excited.

  I watched in awe at how young the dog made her look, and it warmed my heart. “What are you going to name him?”

  She held him away at arm’s length, his pudgy little body almost too heavy for her as he tried to wiggle free. “I think … because he is so round and furry and black that I’m … I’m going to call him Junior Mint. He looks just like one of those Junior Mint candies you used to always buy me at the movies. What do you think?”

  “That’s a great name for a puppy.”

  She got up juggling Junior Mint. “Oh, thank you, Popi. I love you.” She came over and gave me a kiss on the cheek as I leaned down to accept it. Her gratitude felt bittersweet. I’d not yet told her about Derek. That black cloud continued to follow me around like a giant sandstorm lurking just off the horizon.

  “You have to take care of him, you know. Feed him, wash him, take him out when he needs to go out. Take him for walks.”

  She hugged Junior Mint. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. I promise I’ll take good care of him. What a beautiful dog, and you picked it out just for me. Thank you, Popi, really.” She went up on tiptoes and I again leaned down for another kiss on the cheek. I never got tired of those. No way could I tell her how I’d really acquired the cute little beast.

  “You still have to go to school. Put some papers down in the laundry room and come home for lunch to check on him. I have to go out. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but if I’m going to be late, I’ll have your grandfather come stay over.”

  Her expression shifted to concern. “Popi, have you had a chance to look for Derek? He still hasn’t called. Now I’m really getting worried about him.” With a free hand she took hold of mine. “Could you please look for him? It won’t take you long. You’re very good at what you do.”

  “When I have some time, I promise I will. Now I have to go. You be good.” I kissed the top of her head. The lie I’d just fed her hurt, and the longer I went without telling her the truth, the worse it was going to be when I did.

  I turned and went for the
door, trying hard not to look like I was fleeing for my life.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  I STOPPED AT a pay phone on Wilmington, dropped a quarter, and dialed up Judge Connors. Turning my back to the phone booth, I checked the passing traffic, watching for any ghetto fool who might want to walk up on me.

  For normal folks it would be too early to call, but Connors would be out on his back porch smoking his first cigarette of the day and drinking a large cup of black coffee to get his engine started. His wife, Jean Anne, an elegant woman who doted heavily on him, wouldn’t be up for another two hours. A woman of means, she had dedicated her life to serving the homeless and worked tirelessly at fund-raising, soup kitchens, and even in the construction of Homes for Humanity. In their house hung a framed photo on the wall of Jean Anne dressed in a white satin evening gown wearing a construction worker’s utility belt, replete with a long carpenter’s hammer.

  I’d only met her once, and my immediate and unfair assessment of the two was to question how the relationship worked at all. They seemed to be polar opposites.

  He answered on the first ring. “Talk to me.”

  “Good morning, Your Honor.”

  “That you, Bruno? Cut the crap and give it to me. You were supposed to call and keep me updated. I’m a little upset that you haven’t. I gotta hear it from the chief what happened to poor old Gloria. My God, what a crying shame. She was a scrappy insouciant hardass who got under my skin at every trial, but I sure liked that broad. She never backed down from a fight. Come by and pick me up—I want to roll with you. Now I really have to have a piece of this guy.”

  “I’ve been pulled from the case.”

  “You what? Like hell you have. Let me make a call to the chief. I’ll fix this, Bruno, I promise I will. Your department owes me.”

  “This came from the chief.”

  “Doesn’t matter, I can still fix it.”

  “Don’t throw your dog into this fight, Your Honor. Don’t call him. There are other dynamics at work here, a political subtext, and it’s, ah … something related to a department policy that the chief’s not going to budge on.”