by Laura Acton
Ray concluded, “Sergeant Pastore called for EMS. I maintained a hold on the subject, and moved him to the side of the hallway to ensure the stairs remained clear for the paramedics to reach my injured teammates.”
Kendall checked her notepad. “Bozonnet alleges you struck him after he said some disparaging things about a member of your team. Is that true?”
“Yes,” Ray answered without elaborating.
Gazing at the thin transcript, Kendall found the desired section. “From the transcript, I can see the following chain of events and comments.” Kendall read the transcription aloud for the record.
“Subject: How the hell did you know we would be coming here?
“Palomo: Because Dan was concerned for Dame Ridgewater.
“Subject: You found Brodickhead alive?
“Palomo: Yes, we found Broderick. Lucky for you he is still alive.
“Subject: Can’t believe you went searching for dickhead. We left him to starve or bleed to death. Fuck! Now I wish I would’ve killed the pathetic, little shit before I left, a few more kicks would’ve done it for sure.
“Palomo: If Dan dies …
“Subject: You don’t scare me … they call you less lethal Ray. Quit acting like you care about Brodickhead.
“Palomo: It would be in your best interest to shut … up.”
“Subject: I should’ve exterminated the rat bastard with one last well-placed kick to his head.
“Palomo: I’m going to the hospital with Loki.”
“At what point did you strike Mr. Bozonnet?” Kendall peered at Ray.
“After I told Bozonnet to be quiet and Bozonnet stated for a second time he wished he had murdered Dan.”
“Okay. I only have a couple more questions. By the time Bozonnet and the others arrived, how many hours had you been awake and on the job?” Kendall inquired.
“The day prior my alarm went off at four twenty a.m. so I could arrive at HQ for pre-shift workout by five. We ended up working overtime until shortly after ten p.m., and since we worked a fifteen-hour shift, Sergeant Pastore arranged for Charlie Team to cover our first two hours of shift the next day.
“On May eighth I woke up at about seven thirty and started my shift by nine in the morning. The subjects showed up at Dame Ridgewater’s place at about five thirty a.m. on the ninth. I had been up for twenty-two hours and on duty for over twenty hours.”
Kendall took notes before asking, “How long did the stakeout last?”
“Nine and a half hours.”
“Did you have any downtime or rotate out with any officers at any time during the operation?”
“No. We left St. Michael’s hospital after setting up security measures for Dan in the ICU a little after seven and arrived at Ridgewater’s home around eight p.m. The task force leader didn’t want to take the chance of anyone spotting us, so we all maintained our positions the entire time.”
“And your position was where?” Kendall looked up at Ray.
“A bedroom window upstairs at the back of the house. I kept an eye out for the subjects and acted as second-line of defense for Constable Baldovino who was in the master bedroom impersonating the dame.”
Kendall jotted another note. “So, you stood for at least nine hours straight maintaining an observation post.”
“Yes.”
“Is that typical?”
“Not really. Most situations involve … well, more action. But in this case, capturing the four dangerous fugitives who intended to kill Dan and planned to kidnap Ridgewater required patience and stealth.”
Nodding her head, she asked, “When did you last eat that day?”
This is an odd line of questioning. Ray replied, “During start of shift briefing when Kinsey brought in timbits for the team to share.”
“Are you saying you consumed nothing during your entire shift?” Kendall asked incredulously.
Ray corrected. “Drank several bottles of water throughout the day but no, we did not have time to eat. Locating Dan was our primary concern, then setting up security to protect him before we learned about the threat to Dame Ridgewater and set up the sting.”
Kendall wrote down several more things. “How did you feel not eating. Your physical state?”
Ray stopped to think about that. “Well, to be honest, my stomach hurt. I was quite hungry. We exerted a lot of energy.”
“The convicts abducted Constable Broderick the day prior, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Can you please describe for me Constable Broderick’s condition when your team found him? Was he incapacitated in any way?” Stevens knew the answers but wanted to gauge Ray’s reaction.
A pained expression crossed Ray’s face, and his voice reflected his devastation upon finding Dan in the basement. “They bound Dan’s hands and feet with plastic zip-ties, and he lay semi-conscious on the cold, damp cement. They beat him so viciously his face was swollen and bloodied, and his entire torso, front and back, and his arms were black and blue. They electrocuted him too … the contact burns visible on his chest. Dan lost consciousness right after we discovered him. Jon noted signs of severe internal bleeding. We did not think he would live long enough to arrive at the hospital.”
“To your knowledge, did the abductors provide him with any food or water while they held him?” Agent Stevens queried.
Momentary anger flashed across Ray’s features before he recomposed himself. “No. Given his state when we found him and the subject’s statement that they left him to starve to death indicates they did not give him either.”
Her next question threw him for a loop. “Would you ever consider leaving an animal, say a dog or a cat, tied up and without water or food for two days?”
“No. That would be beyond cruel.”
Kendall gave him a small smile. “Thank you for your time, Constable Palomo. I believe I have all we need. You will be notified of the results of our investigation soon. Until such time you are considered to be on active duty with no restrictions.” She switched off the recorder.
“Wait … shouldn’t he be on administrative leave at least?” Pope interjected. To him, the interview seemed light on facts, and the agent didn’t appear to address the assault at all. She only wanted to know if he ate and how long he was up. It made no sense to Pope at all. Regardless of who the subject is or what they had been accused of doing, Palomo striking him is wrong.
Kendall peered at Pope. She didn’t care for the inspector. The man’s remarks before they entered the building bespoke of a man who had a bee in his bonnet and possibly … a stick up his ass, when it came to TRF constables. She eyed him and spoke with authority, “This is my investigation and area of expertise. At this time, I find no reason to further hinder TRF’s ability to respond by removing another constable from their team. If you have an issue with my decision, you may take it up with NRB Director Reed Caldwell.”
Dissatisfied, but not willing to call Caldwell, Pope stomped out of the room, leaving Stevens to figure out how to get back to NRB.
Ray stood after Inspector Pope huffed out of the room and the door closed behind him. With only him and Stevens in the soundproof room, Ray said, “Off the record, what was that line of questions all about?”
Kendall rose as she packed up the digital recorder. “It will be used to determine your state of mind and physical condition at the time of the alleged brutality.” She turned to him and smiled. “I don’t think you need to worry about the outcome. That is all I can say at this time.”
Ray nodded and pivoted to exit still a bit confused.
Kendall watched him go before putting the rest of her items away. She gathered what she needed to show Ray was only human and pushed beyond the breaking point that day. Evidence supported food and sleep deprivation, physical exhaustion, and heightened emotional state. He was pushed over the edge by statements about a colleague who was on the verge of death. When she was done presenting and drawing her analogy to her animal-loving superior she believed there would
not even be a letter of censor in Ray’s official file.
After stepping out of the conference room, she heard, wooh wooh ahhh eeewww wooh wooh ahhh eeewww. Thunk. Followed by Ray’s exasperated voice saying, “Loki! Boss said to put your toys away.”
Kendall giggled recognizing the distinct sound of flying, screaming monkeys. This team is awesome. I hope both McKenna and Broderick make it back here soon. The city needs teams like them. She fished out her phone to call Caldwell to pick her up … they could discuss things over an early lunch. She waved bye to the dispatcher as she strolled to the elevators.
Something Not Quite Right
43
May 17
Niko’s Car – En Route to Evidence Impound Lot – 11:20 a.m.
Glancing at Henry for the umpteenth time, Niko’s radar insisted something was not quite right, although Henry continued to behave normal. His friend laughed and told stories from his past during the drive. This time about his time in the Army. The tales appeared to be prompted because Henry brought his old sniper rifle along with him today.
“So, Henry, why are you selling it again?” Niko asked.
Henry shifted a bit in the seat but flashed a grin. “Time to let go of my past and truthfully there is no one to hand it down to. I should be able to get a better price for it in the city gun store than from Bobby’s hunting store. This way I can kill four birds with a single bullet.”
Niko scrunched his face at the strange comment. “Don’t you mean two birds with one stone?”
Chuckling lightly, Henry said, “Nah a sniper kills four at a time. We’re just good like that. Least that’s what my Sarge always said. He didn’t like us to waste ammo and said the fewer shots we took, the less likely we would be located. I took it to heart and perfected my ability to line up shots to take out multiple targets at a time.”
“Really, you can do that?” Astonished, Niko forgot his worries, drawn in by Henry’s detailed, embellished, and excitement-filled account of several times he did precisely as he claimed.
As Henry rambled on, his mind went elsewhere. My other talent is the gift of gab. Always came in as handy as my sniper camo. Henry finished his tale as Niko pulled to a stop outside the impound lot. “Niko, thanks for the ride. I spotted a Timmy’s about a mile back. I want to buy you lunch as a thank you. Would you meet me there?”
“No need. My pleasure to help.” Niko smiled, he never tired of listening to the tall-tales Henry spun, the man was a natural storyteller and sometimes he wished Henry wrote them down.
Henry insisted, “Least I can do. Plus, this way, I can leave the rifle in your vehicle and not scare the poor lot attendant by walking in with a weapon slung over my shoulder. I can retrieve it from you at Timmy’s.”
“Okay. Wouldn’t want you to get into trouble,” Niko agreed.
“Thanks. Meet ya in a bit.” Henry slid out, shut the door, and ambled toward the office to retrieve his car.
Niko’s gut reaction re-emerged, but he shook it off, put the car in gear, and headed for the restaurant to grab them a table before the lunch rush.
Timmy’s – 1:23 p.m.
After transferring his rifle in from Niko’s car to his trunk, Henry scooted back into the booth and slid Niko’s keys to him. He took another long sip of his beverage. “I forgot how tasty iced capps are, been years since I indulged.”
Niko smiled. “Their coffee is fantastic. Sure beats the garbage I make.”
Henry chuckled. “Yeah, but it needs to be terrible to sober up some of the old boys before their wives come and drag their butts outta here. Remember how Wendy used to tug Larry home?”
“She scared me. Always stormed in about one a.m., grabbed Larry’s ear, and yanked him off the stool,” Niko recalled with a lift of his brows.
Niko enjoyed reminiscing with Henry over lunch and wished he could stay longer. “I should be heading out soon. Told the missus I would be home before three. Thanks for the coffee and sandwich.”
Henry smiled. “Thank you for always being a true friend, Niko. I’ll sit here a while longer before I take care of my other business. You drive safe. Make sure you hug your lovely wife and tell her how much she means to you. Life ain’t always fair, and you never know when you might lose someone you care about.” He stood and offered a handshake to Niko before giving him a quick one-armed hug and slap on the back.
As Niko peered at Henry, his instincts of something amiss flared again, but he chalked it up to the abduction, and Henry realizing he was getting on in years. Lately, Henry made a point to tell his friends he appreciated them. So, he dismissed his worry and gave Henry a pat on the shoulder and a friendly smile. “Will do. Tomorrow’s special will be your favorite … something you can count on.” With one last wave, Niko exited the restaurant and strolled to his car.
Sighing as a cherished friend left, Henry sat down. He finished his iced capp before reaching into his breast pocket to retrieve Ellie’s picture and smiled at his beloved wife.
“Soon, Ellie, my kitten. Very soon.” He kissed the image and tucked it back into his pocket, nestled against the folded document from the detective and the letter he wrote on Ellie’s favorite stationery. Henry stood, squared his shoulders, held his head high, purpose gleaming in his blue eyes as he strode to his vehicle.
Ridgewater Chalet – 11:15 a.m.
Bored to tears, confined to the chalet today after his over-exertion yesterday, Dan sought something to distract him. He shuffled to the bookcase, his eyes roaming over all the titles. Mostly historical romance fiction … books JD filled the shelves with as a teen when they spent time here on winter break. The other titles included science fiction, poetry, a couple of classics, and several children’s picture books.
Nothing suited his tastes. About to give up and play another game of solitaire, he spotted an old leather-bound book with no title. He pulled it out and embossed on the front in gold lettering read, A. C. E. Ridgewater. Opening it, he found it to be a photo album.
Moving to the chair nearest the roaring fireplace, Dan sat and flipped through a few pages. He stopped when his gaze picked out a familiar face among the black and white pictures. A lopsided grin bloomed as he stared. He only vaguely recalled his grandfather, but his image remained crystal clear because of the picture displayed on the wall of his father’s study.
Bella glided in, bearing a steaming cup of coffee for Danny. She set it on the side table next to him. “What are you grinning about?”
Dan glanced up. “Found an old photograph of Grandfather Arthur. Sorry I didn’t mean to snoop … only bored.” He closed the album.
Smiling, Bella’s fingertips ghosted the lettering. “You are welcome to anything here. This is still your home too … as much as mine and my descendants.”
“What does ACE stand for?” Dan asked as he reached for the hot coffee.
“Archibald Conrad Edward Ridgewater. My husband preferred to be called Archie, but some of his unit called him Ace.” Bella opened the old album back to the page with Arthur’s photo. “Your grandfather, Art, was the worst of the lot.” A fond grin grew. “Archie would always grouse and declare Henry was their unit ace.”
She tapped the image to the left of Arthur. “This is my Archie. Handsome man. I still miss him.” Bella sighed as beautiful memories flooded in. “He was not in the service long. Did his duty, but when his father passed away, he finished his second term before taking over the business. You met Archie when you were two before the skiing accident took him from us.”
Brushing aside the sad recollection, her finger moved to the man on the right. “This is Henry Cooke, the true ace of the unit. He held the distance and accuracy records your father broke. Archie claimed Henry could take out four birds with a single bullet. He possessed amazing marksmanship skills.”
A slight frown appeared. “Sadly, we lost touch with Henry after tragedy shrouded his family. An apartment fire took the lives of all six of his children. The loss devastated both he and his wife. Henry received an honora
ble discharge after an extended compassionate leave. They needed a change of scenery to cope with their grief, and I’m not sure what happened to them.”
Bella turned several pages and beamed. “Here’s one of Art holding wee Willie … he was a proud papa.” Her hand rested on Danny’s shoulder. “And he would be proud of his grandson too.”
Dan stared at the snapshot of his grandfather holding his dad. “Wish I had more time with grandfather.”
“Me too.” Bella stroked Danny’s head to provide comfort but moved her palm to his forehead. “You’re a tad warm. I’m calling Dr. Braxton.”
“Bella, I’m only warm because I’m sitting next to an inferno.”
“Don’t you try to deflect with me, my boy. Off to bed with you, no arguments. With your proclivity for infections, we need to be extra vigilant.” Bella stood and started for the phone in the other room. “Yvonne, I believe Danny might be running a fever, while I call Michael, can you make sure he complies and goes straight upstairs?”
Busy making Dan’s favorite cookies ala Jarmal style with protein powder, Yvonne poked her head out of the kitchen while wiping flour-laden hands on a dish towel. She peered at her son with concern. “Danny?”
“I’m alright, Mom.” Aware he would not win when both mother hens ganged up on him, Dan stifled the eye roll, moved the ancient album to the table, retrieved his coffee mug, and stood. “I’m going.”
Yvonne smiled. “I’ll be up to check on you soon and bring you a couple of cookies fresh out of the oven for being such an obedient boy.”
Dan chuckled as he trod up the steps, the sense of being loved and cared for enveloping him in a warm cloak. At least I’m getting cookies.
Focused on oatmeal cookies, not where he walked, Dan ran right into the corner of the dresser as he entered the bedroom, whacking his right side hard. Sharp pain lanced him as he moaned and bent over, spilling a bit of the coffee. His hand went to the abused area, pressing as he stumbled to the bed. After putting the mug on the nightstand, he lowered himself to the mattress and tugged the covers over him as he breathed through renewed agony.