I was driving for home; I called in the 10-10A ( out of duty; home ). I was looking for a long weekend with Jenny, coming up long overdue. I don't know why but I turned up the chatter on the radio communications; guess I would missed it during my weekend. But just then the call came in after listening to the usual evening chatter.
It was a 11-99; Officer needs help. Damned! I hate such calls. It means one of our boys was shot and in need of medical assistance. I ignored it as it would be the task for the others in the squad. I am going home, and looking to some good baseball games. Then the call became 10-53; Man down. Then I heard the followup code: 11-41 Ambulance Needed.
Well, it was never easy when you expect it to be.
My portable rang; it was the Precinct.
"Jim, you got to get here." It was Frank, the Precinct Sargeant.
"Aargh! Frank. I am on scheduled leave." I protested hard. "Dusty and Micheal on the beat. Get them."
"Jim, its not any officer. Its your partner, Marcy." Frank replied sternly. "Brian found her on the road when he was on patrol."
I'll be darned. I just left her half an hour ago at the Precinct. She rides the big bike as she favored herself like some duke riding the mare. Frank later told me she was sent to the Medical High for immediate attention. Without thinking, I grabbed the siren and placed it on the hood of the sedan as I turned the wheels. Jenny would be upset but she would understand. She always does. Its only her mother who won't as the lady was expecting us over for the weekend. Unlike her daughter, the mother do not vent her anger directly; she only circulate the bad news to all who would listened.
Medical High was one of the best; the bad cases get sent here, and I lost my last partner here on the surgeon table. His name was Ted and was a good partner who walked into a firefight on his last day. I did him justice by killing his killer. Today, my new partner lies there, and I am wondering how she would fare. I met the Nurse in charge of the place; Marcy just got sent in there and it may be some time before they know.
"The longer she stays there, the better." I smiled at the assurance given by the Nurse. Ted never made it pass the hour before the doctor came out. Marcy did better; the doctor walked out after an hour and removed his head cover.
"Doctor, how is she?" I intercepted him. He recognized me from the previous victim last year.
"Detective Jim, right?" The doctor tried to recalled my name. I nodded to him.
"She took a bullet in the chest but it missed the essential parts. She did lose a lot blood but she will pull through." The doctor replied. "You are a lucky man."
I don't know what he meant by the last statement. I am not lucky; I am pissed inside me. Some s******r shot my partner and that means that shooter was mine to return the favor. Then I saw the red head lady arriving and asked for Marcy; foxy looking in the green dress and heels. She introduced herself as the housemate. I remembered Marcy was living in with someone and this could be that person.
"Heck, Jim. Marcy lies in there shot and you are thinking of shooting at her lover." Gee, I must had been away from it for too long or was it the getting mundane with Jenny.
That worked me up to concentrate on getting the shooter so I can resumed my physical love with Jenny. I left the Medical High, and went back to the Precinct. I searched the files which we worked and list down the suspects. It was early morning when I completed the list. It was another two hours to my shift so I drove for home.
Jenny was in the kitchen drinking her morning coffee when I came in. She was dressed in her usual working clothes, and preparing to leave for her work as the Administrator of the nearby school. She saw me coming in, and pushed her half cup of coffee over.
"I unpacked the bags, and told Mum. She's upset but she would live." Jenny got up and walked to the fridge. "I am going back to school, and dinner would be prepared if you called."
A policeman wife for over fifteen years, gave her all the needed replies imprints to used for occasions like this.. She had put up with all my works and unscheduled interruption to our weekends before . She was fine with it initially but after two miscarriage, the toll of her lifestyle dawned on her. but she prevailed. I guess it was love, or too much personal sacrifice was done. She had her left breast removed last year and that added on more stress. The school was her only sanctuary where she was the mother to hundreds of kids. Guess it was not the time to asked for a quickie.
I left for the first suspect on my list after a cold shower; it works on such days, and into fresh change of clothes. I ignored the kelvar placed on the bed by Jenny but I carried a spring blade in my left jacket pocket. I got it years ago from a junkie and kept it for such days. My service M1910 in my shoulder holster gives me the confidence to walked into any place. I also carried my old police baton for some workout.
Micheal Moor; busted for drugs possession, and now out on bail. He runs this ring in Brighton side although his supplies came from East Side. He was a small frame man with an expensive hair cut and suit. That morning, I had him lying on the dirty rug of his apartment after tearing one of his sleeves on his suit. His face registered some bruises from my old baton. I may be rusty with my use of it as I missed my marks most times, but who cares; the baton registered pain on contact.
"Detective, I have nothing to do with the shooting...." I stepped on his inner left thigh and he shouted out in pain. "God is my witness, I have nothing to do with it."
I hate it when they involved God in their swearing. I twisted my foot and jabbed it into him where he would hurt for days. Micheal ended up half crouched on the flooring with his face all drawn up in pain. I reached down to his jacket lapels and pulled him up. He stood up half crouched and holding onto his injured part.
"I swear I do not know...." He saw me raised up my right fist, and he then continued. "You could try talking to Fixer. He might know."
I knew Fixer; pockmarked guy with girth around his waist that needed a bell rope to hold up, and boast that nothing he cannot fixed for money. He done a few gigs and scored some good ones. So they named him the Fixer, but recently the new gangs inched up out from the turf, and since then he had been laying low. I got an address from Micheal.
It was a warehouse in the industrial park. It was a medium sized one, about five hundred feet in length, a hundred feet in height and two hundred in width, large two panel mechanical door, and three exit door with the windows on the high walls. Fixer employed three guards; one was at the double panel door, while the other two was inside with him.
I drove up to the warehouse and stopped at the doorway. I stepped out of the sedan and saw the first guard approached me. The scum was either dense not to recognized a cop or he was new. The later was more true as he walked into my baton and ended up on the ground with some bad bruises. I stepped over the unconscious man and walked into the warehouse. The place was half loaded with crates of junks, and from the looks of it, they are stolen goods. I could see Fixer sitting there with his two other guards at the long table. They were expecting a seller but Fixer recognized me.
"He is a cop!" Fixer went under the table while his two guards reached for their guns. I jumped aside for cover as I was in real shoot out. This was no movie stunt and those bullets are real. When I got to my cover, I pulled out my gun while bullets ricochet off the metal cover where I was hiding. I radioed in for assistance with my portable; 11:99 ( officer in need ).
I inched over the cover where I was; stacked crates with the stolen goods until I found a gap in between. I spied through it and saw the trio was gone. I looked more and confirmed my earlier conclusion. I stepped out when I heard the sirens outside the doors.
An hour later, I handed the case to the other detectives and was on the road again with my third suspect. Fixer could be involved or just panicked on seeing me. I did find his cache and that would upset his cashflow. Fixer could wait as I singled out the next suspect; Steve Orean, suspect gang member now awaiting trial. He would be tough one as he hangs out with his mates at the drinking place on Northern Side. The portable rang and I picked it up. It was Dan from Coroner.
"Jim, we got the bullet. Its a 9mm. We are tracing it." Dan told me.
"Dan, its not your section. Why are you going there?" The Coroner and Forensic are two sections, and here Dan was calling me.
"F**k you, Jim." Dan replied. " I know you would be out there scoring points to narrow on who was the shooter. Your methods may just get killed one day. I am using the new way."
I laughed as I knew Dan better. He was cozing up to Marjorie there; the old spinster with a chest that you slide the bowling ball for a straight strike. Dan' permanent love lies in coma at home; poor Bernice while Dan tries to score with other putt holes. While Dan and his potential love worked on the trace, I am seeing Steve.
The Roadkill gang hangs out at their drinking place where Steve is a senior member. For this one, I called in some muscles of my own. No one in the blues like to see their own get shot. When I arrived at the designated meeting place, there were five cars there with ten officers of all rank including Frank. They were armed with shotguns and their service pieces including kelvar.
"Frank, you need not come." I whispered to Frank.
"I was on the way to see my children when I saw a scene which needed my attention. So shut up and let's go there." Frank one tough guy when he made up his mind. We went off in three cars including mine, and parked outside the drinking place after driving for a short half a mile. There were three of the members outside the place and were to warn their pals when we pulled the shotguns on them. They raised up their hands and two of the officers cuffed them. Meanwhile Frank and myself with two others walked to inside while the other six held survelliance outside.
The drinking place was like any tavern, long bar, and three tables with seatings, one pool table and two music machine. The music machine was blaring some horrid noise they may had termed as music. There was five of the members including the bartender there. We caught them in a surprise move and the presence of the shotguns stopped them from being rash.
"Steve Orean?" I asked the bartender and he refused to answer, but his face expression betrayed his answer. I motioned to Frank the side door by the bar. Frank walked to it and gave it his famous 'rodeo steer' kick. The door flung opened to reveal the presence of four more members including Steve. There on the table was a stash of pills which could pull some of these guys behind bars.
Steve reached for his gun on the waist and Frank shot him with the shotgun. The gang member fell backwards with his chest all bloodied. The others hesitated after Frank fired and placed their hands above their heads. Meanwhile the other six officers barged in but I shouted to them to hold their fire.
It was then the portable rang again. It was Dan.
"Jim, we found the trace. They are holding the person and bringing her to the Precinct."
"Her?" I asked back.
"Yes, the gun belong to Monica Schnell. She was Marcy housemate." The lady in the green dress. Later I was to know the whole story; a case of lover's fight and Monica shot Marcy for trying to break the relationship. I be darned and here I am risking my life with unsupported leads.
Frank, myself and four of the officers left the drinking place to the four Narcotics officers who was with us then. They agreed to takeover the shooting and confiscation of the drugs based on an anonymous tip off. So all was square and we left for our own destination. I stopped at Di Angelo for my first meal of the day before I went back to the Precinct. I found the Captain waiting for me.
I wanted to explain my absence, but he spoke up before I could do.
"Jim, take a few days off. I know its tough to have your partner shot. While she recover, you do the same. Don't hit the bottle because of it." The Captain smiled at me. So he was mis-informed by the others. I nodded.
"Don't worry. We can still crack cases without you. Today, Rodney cracked the Fixer's new business and just heard Narcotic crash party into the Roadkill's and got some hard evidence." The Captain looked at the reports and told me.
I smiled at the Captain as he sat back thinking how the Commissioner would compliment him this time. I drove on home and found Jenny was back too. She was in the shower when I laid down my gun. As I was pulling out my waist belt, she came out wrapped up in her bath towel. We looked at each other and then she walked to pull the curtains closer.
I looked at the gun on the dresser. Maybe I ought to keep it locked in some place safe. They tend to go off during the lovers' hot moment.
"Does this belong to you?" Jenny was holding my baton. "You ought to wash it. It smelled."
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