Grind City

by Gary Hardwick

  “This is important,” said Marcus Sr. “The world is watching and we can help people see once and for all, that a fetus is a life made by God and should be respected.”

  Marcus Sr.’s voice had gone into that resonant cadence preachers get when they are serious. Everyone became silent and I was not about to be the one to go against him on this.

  “We’ll get the kid,” said Vinny. “Don’t worry.”

  The rest of the night was a blur. There was food and discussion and I was forced to tell the story about Dobbs. After a couple of beers, I was out.

  I know I dreamed about something but it wasn’t good and I can’t exactly remember what it was.

  I woke up the next morning to a quiet house. I savored it for a while and then set out early to end Every Wadson’s murder case. I had been thinking about it for a while and I had a solution.

  The media was out again and caught me going to my car.

  “Are you a hero?” yelled one reporter.

  “How did you get into the house? Who fired the shot at police?” asked another.

  I ignored them and resisted the temptation to give them the finger as I drove away.

  I checked my messages and I had one from Jimmy, the Samoan. He said he wasn’t in trouble but wanted to talk to me. I made a mental note to call him back.

  Later, I sat with John Long at his house and told him that because no one was there except him and the deceased, that it was probably a case of self-defense and he had been too afraid to say anything for fear of the drug suppliers. He readily agreed and turned himself in.

  With the media turned to Dobbs Harson’s capture and after a call to Jesse King, John Long would be back at his business before the dinner rush.

  I walked into The Sewer later that day a little worried that my peers had judged me for taking down one of our own. Cops are funny like that. Dobbs was dirty but I had stepped out of my place.

  There was no applause but the guys were generally complimentary to me. There were several who just muttered “Good job” and one who said nothing and avoided me. All in all, not bad.

  Erik damned near hugged me when we were alone. He had been called by the mayor, Chief Hill and the City Council Chief and congratulated. The official story was the Sewer and IAD had done it together. Cops working to preserve their reputation. The newspapers ate it up.

  “You are a crazy ass sonofabitch,” said Erik. “I didn’t think we’d take Dobbs alive. When I heard tactical was called, I figured his ass was toast.”

  “Got lucky,” I said. “I heard DeAngela has been all over the national news this morning.”

  “I don’t think that woman ever went to bed,” said Erik. “Look, if you want to take a few days for the funeral and all, I got you covered.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I think I will. The family is pretty messed up and there are a few complications.”

  “Dobbs got another lawyer,” said Erik. “Willie Backus is going to take it.”

  “Backus? Big time,” I said.

  “The other cops were all released. Jamilla’s got a guard on her. She had to have covered for him, so she’s fucked.”

  I nodded silently. I knew the mess was just beginning. After a big arrest, the lawyers, the court and now the media and the Internet would weigh in and judge. It was likely that Dobbs could never receive a fair trial anywhere in the country now.

  I closed out the Wadson murder, doing all the paperwork, which would find John Long on probation and a hero in his neighborhood. Just like we agreed, there were complaints about me in the file which had been sent to Erik.

  I ignored the many calls to the office and to my cell for interviews. DeAngela was taking a lot of the pressure off of me by doing so much press. Avoiding them had made me a pretty hot ticket but I was going to wait it out. In time, some actress would get divorced and they would forget about me.

  In the meantime, Marcus Jr. and Ivanna had become minor celebrities and their online followers had skyrocketed. I still don’t understand that shit. We now worship ordinary people because tragedy has visited them.

  When I was done with the volume of paperwork and Erik signed off on it, I rushed over to holding to see how the Dobbs interview was going.

  I was now allowed to watch along with the rest of the team. There was some resentment amongst the IAD squad toward me. I had upstaged them I guess and many of them thought I was an out of control cop myself. I had a thick file with them. I couldn’t argue about that.

  Dobbs looked like shit as he sat with DeAngela, Jesse King and his lawyer, the legendary Willie Backus.

  Backus was a king in the criminal defense game. He had been a firebrand civil rights lawyer and had won many landmark cases over the years.

  Backus’ father, had been one of the first black attorneys in the Midwest, graduating from Harvard then moving to Detroit to represent black folks.

  Willie Backus sat as a judge briefly but got restless and returned to criminal defense, specializing in white collar crime. Now semi-retired, he only took high profile cases and this fit the bill nicely.

  Backus was a smallish, dark-skinned man with a bald head and a gray goatee. He wore thick glasses and had a bit of a southern accent like many of the older blacks in the city.

  DeAngela had almost knelt to Backus when he walked in. Of course Backus was connected in politics and DeAngela was thinking about the future.

  Jesse King wasn’t impressed by Backus and even managed to be a little dismissive. It was all war with him. I liked that.

  “After talking with my client extensively,” Backus began, “we are pleading not guilty. Our defense is he didn’t do it.”

  “Okay,” said Jesse. “Duly noted. Then this will be a short interview.”

  “My client admits to an affair with the deceased. He admits they argued about the baby and he admits he had sex with her the night of the murder but he did not kill her nor did he or his partner bring the deceased into the 11th Precinct.”

  “That’s a lot of admissions,” said DeAngela.

  “None of it is illegal,” said Jesse. “He’s saying this is a mistake, correct?”

  “That’s for you to prove,” said Backus.

  “What about the missing surveillance?” asked Jesse.

  “The system malfunctioned,” said Backus. “All of the records will prove that it was offline due to a malfunctioning junction box.”

  “Does he admit to switching out the police cruiser ID’s?” asked Jesse. “Or did that just happen by itself?”

  Backus looked at Dobbs, then whispered to him. Dobbs said something back frantically.

  “He does not,” said Backus. “You’ll have to prove that too, if you can.”

  “This is silly,” said Jesse King. “We have DNA, witnesses, flight and a televised stand off. Willie, I know you are great but you can’t win. Save us all some aggravation and we can place your client where he will be safe.”

  “I’ve been around a long time, Mr. King and like you I know the game, hell some say I invented it. I would normally tell my client to give in but there’s just one thing. I believe him and I am not about to go against forty years of gut instinct just because you're the current bright boy.”

  “If we go through a long trial, I can assure you that I will get the max on him for everything and I will make sure he goes into a hell hole,” said Jesse.

  “Maybe your boss will be more reasonable. I’ll just call her when this is over,” said Backus.

  “This is not some preliminary,” said Jesse. “And if you try to go over my head, all you’ll find is the sky.”

  DeAngela looked a little upset at this. These two men were seriously threatening each other now and she didn’t like it.

  “Guys there’s no need for this,” said DeAngela. “We got it Willie, you intend to fight and we intend to bring our case.”

  “Ah, the cool head of a woman,” said Backus. “You are right, Ms. Gomez. Mr. King, I apologize for my manner. Let’s discuss discovery and all t
he tedious stuff, shall we?”

  “Yes, we can do that but for now, your client has to go back to his cell,” said Jesse.

  “Can we take him off suicide watch?” asked Backus. “That kind of thing is very prejudicial.”

  “Sorry,” said Jesse. “No can do. Doctor’s orders.”

  Suddenly, the door to the observation room opened and Fiona walked in. Fiona to my knowledge, had never come to a precinct house.

  For a second, I thought there was trouble with Ngo, that something had gone wrong but her face did not say that.

  “Fiona?” I said.

  “Hey,” said Fiona. “I was hoping to find you here. We need to talk now.”

  We moved to the hallway as the IAD cops watched us go. I was kind of glad to be out of the room.

  “Lovely crowd you hang with,” said Fiona. In her hands, I saw she had a sealed report.

  “So, what’s up?” I asked.

  Fiona took in a deep breath and then: “We ran Dobbs Harson’s DNA against the fetus and it doesn’t match.”

  A long moment passed and I swear, I heard these fatal words in sluggish, slow syllables. This was our only theory, our ace in the hole and now it was gone.

  “You have got to be shitting me.“ I said. “Any chance it’s a mistake?”

  “No,” said Fiona. “We rushed the test but then we took our time with the FBI the second and third times. He is not the father as they say.”

  “Okay, so maybe Dobbs just thought it was his baby and he killed her. That can still be—”

  “The baby isn’t Ivory Shaw’s either,” said Fiona cutting me off. “We did a match on the mother as a matter of course and it came back negative every time.”

  I had a strong urge to sit down and bury my head. I was shocked beyond my own cynical belief.

  “A surrogate,” I almost whispered.

  “I’m afraid so,” said Fiona.

  The money, I thought. That’s where Ivory had gotten all that money from.

  I stood there with Fiona knowing that this information would make the already sensational case even more so. And I realized that my work, which had been stressful and dangerous, was not close to being done.

  PART THREE:

  GRIND CITY

  “I’m in transition… like the universe.”

  - Impala

  16

  HOMEGOING

  In a traditional Irish funeral, a window is opened to allow the spirit of the deceased to leave the house, no-one must stand or block the path to the window because this could prevent the spirit from leaving and bring misfortune to the person who blocks their route. After two hours, the window would be closed to prevent the spirit from returning.

  This little myth was in the back of my mind as I sat on the hard wooden pew at the Church of God in Christ between Vinny and my father.

  Ivory’s body had been kept in a locked room in a meat freezer for a long time and I wondered if her spirit was restless.

  I didn’t know about the open window but for me Ivory’s spirit would never rest until we caught the people who killed her, because while Dobbs Harson was a crazy lowlife bent cop, I wasn’t sure he killed her anymore.

  Ivory had been carrying a surrogate baby and there were lots of places it could have been implanted. Surrogates get paid money but why didn’t Ivory tell her family or friends what she was doing? Was this off the books and who would need something like that and why?

  One thing was sure, I was looking for a doctor or doctors connected to this. Fiona had given me a list of doctors and facilities in the metro area that specialized in fertility. I would be paying a visit to one of them very soon.

  My first thought was Bakersfield, but he was a heart specialist by trade and he and Ivory were at odds. Still, he was a doctor and so he was first on my list.

  Winter had come to the city with serious intention. Cold winds from Canada with some of that goddamned arctic air swept into town and froze everything. The river iced over and the roads were very dangerous until the salt trucks got out.

  The only hot thing in the city was the murder case against Dobbs Harson and his partner who was charged as an accessory. The other six cops were all charged with dereliction, obstruction and petty stuff and all of it would be dropped when no one was looking.

  Every major news outlet had led with the story and there was a rumored bidding war for an interview with Dobbs Harson and Jamilla. That made me a little sick but I understood it.

  It would be like Willie Backus to let Dobbs talk to the public, to sway any potential jurors.

  We are so obsessed with money and fame that a murderer is now considered a celebrity. I know this is nothing new, but the intensity we level upon them now unsettles me. It’s almost like we admire them for what they did, like we’re all regressing back to the animals we used to be, when the biggest and baddest ruled by might.

  I‘m old enough to remember when people didn’t want to know about killers or which celebrity did whatever in their bedroom. But I am young enough to know that this is a natural evolution and it will not change and one day we may have live executions or a real Hunger Games.

  Ivory’s funeral was standing room only. She had a lot of friends and her family attended church there, but many of the people here were just busy-bodies and I was sure there were reporters in the crowd.

  No cameras were allowed and one man had already been removed for trying to take video.

  Marcus Sr. had been planning the funeral for weeks, so when her body was released, he sent the word out, not wanting to wait.

  Fiona, DeAngela, Jesse King and I were the only ones who knew about the baby. We were going to sit on the information for as long as we could. Backus assumed the test was positive and so he would not be asking for a while.

  This meant Dobbs Harson thought it was his baby, too. It didn’t mean he was innocent and so I felt no guilt about it.

  I couldn’t tell all of the family about the baby and so we just told the mom and dad. I knew I could trust them. They would convince everyone else that we would have to have a separate funeral.

  It was very bad to let them live under the belief that the baby was being held by the state but it was necessary. My killer was still out there and I did not want him to have any advantage.

  The funeral was a sad and tearful event and I dreaded my turn to address the crowd because I didn’t know what to say about a girl like Ivory. But after all the singing and praying and crying, it was finally my turn.

  Vinny smiled at me holding RMC. I really didn’t want him to be at this but he’d never remember it. I got up and walked onto the stage where a full choir, the reverend, the deacons and acolytes sat. I was painfully aware that the acolytes’ dresses and I were the only white things on the stage.

  “I ain’t no good at this,” I began. “Y’all know I don’t do a lot of talking and well, Ivory never warmed up to me very much. But even knowing that, me and Vinny went out and risked our lives to bring her killer to justice. Truth is, I blame myself for my relationship with Ivory. I never tried to find out why she was so distant and now I have to live with that for the rest of my life. That’s on me. But I can say that she was always full of life and willing to help anyone that needed it. She cried when my son was born and so I knew family was important to her. When she took the baby from me I remember her saying, ‘He’s gonna be a good one, I can feel it.’ And she kissed him. That’s how I’m gonna remember her.”

  I was surprised to see people crying at this. I thought I sounded dumb and awkward but I guess we were all worked up now.

  “Thanks everybody,” I said and I stepped down.

  These services ended and the outdoor burial was only for family. There was a lot of hand-shaking and hugging and more tears as we made our way out.

  I tried to be as warm and accommodating as I could. I was very uncomfortable and my mind was back on the case, so I didn’t want people to think that I was not sad about all this. I was just focused.

  We all
froze our asses off at the graveside ceremony as the body was placed into the cold ground. There’s nothing more depressing than the big, dark hole sitting next to the casket. When my time came, I did not want this. Cremate me and scatter me on the river, I thought.

  I had heard a lot of spiritual poetry during the day but one thing the Reverend Grant said at the gravesite stuck with me:

  “Whenever I bury someone this young,

  I wonder about God. I wonder about his

  wisdom and yes, I wonder if he’s real.

  Preachers talk about God’s mystery and

  a lot of it is a dodge, a way to avoid saying

  things that are uncomfortable. But I can’t

  do that. God doesn’t take a girl from this life

  like this. This is our doing. This is our

  Earth, our lives and Free Will. We did

  this, all of us. And so let us commend our

  sister to the ground and commit ourselves

  to making this world better because God

  was done with us a long time ago, but we

  don’t have to be done with him.”

  A light snow began again as we dropped white roses on the coffin and laid Ivory Shaw to rest for good.

  When the final words were said, the family went off to eat and drink, tell funny stories and continue the process of healing from their loss.

  On the way to the family gathering, I called back Jimmy the Samoan and got his voicemail. I left a message. I was glad he had not picked up. I didn’t need more drama right now.

  I got to the party, which was at Vinny’s parents’ house but I would not stay long. I was going to do my healing in a different way. I had a killer to find and I knew where I was going to start.

  17

  THE DEAL

  I stood outside of Jamilla Cole’s door for a good ten minutes before she finally opened the door to her place.

  I came inside and stomped the snow from my feet as she watched me with an angry look on her face.