Gretchen called Janet, who had gone downstairs to help Meg, but she had no idea where Chen and Harry were. Tommy, she knew, was with Joe and Jerry. And she called Meghan Walters. Meghan talked about going to Tempe, but she should be in on this.
Forty-five minutes before four. It felt like forty-five hours.
At four-thirty, Visneros opened Jerry’s office door and crossed over to plug in the coffee urn. Janet came in and sat down. She gave Gretchen a happy thumbs-up, so the Marsh business must have turned out well.
Tommy came bouncing in even more ebulliently than usual. He sat down beside her and kissed her so ardently that she was half afraid he’d grab a breast, but he contained himself.
Joe! He came over and sat down at her other side. He was in his usual midnight blue sport coat and white shirt with his favourite blue and white silk tie. He must have just come from the courthouse.
She couldn’t quit grinning. “Joel says you scored.”
“We did.”
Bellamy walked in. Gretchen’s good spirits went up in smoke. As Visneros ushered him to the front of the room, he looked as timid and weasely as ever.
Visneros said loudly, “Ahem.” The room went quiet. “Mr. Bellamy here has an announcement.”
Gretchen’s breastbone chilled. Now what?
Mr. Bellamy’s face said plainly that he’d much rather be sticking sharp objects under his fingernails. He nervously licked his lips as he laid a stack of paper on the desk. “The chief and I, uh, had a discussion yesterday. Uh, a meeting of the minds, if you will. The, uh, plan of action that we had taken to alleviate the department’s indebtedness did not, er, uh, yield the results we were hoping for. If you will, please, distribute this new cost analysis summary to, uh, learn how we plan to address our budgetary problems.
“As I understand it, uh, er… This is very difficult. Captain, would you explain, please?”
“Sure.” Jerry came forward from the doorway at the back of the room; Gretchen hadn’t even known he was there. He hopped up to sitting on the front of his desk, just like always, with his feet hanging just like always, and Bellamy quickly stepped aside.
Jerry cleared his throat. “I had an appointment with the chief several days ago, as most of you know. I pointed out to him that this department and this division are among the best, with facts and figures to prove it, and with its destruction, the public was at great risk and so was the department. Anything that happened out on the street would bring the shortfall to light, and the blame would be laid directly on him, not Bellamy. I might add that I assured him we would blab freely if asked. He wasn’t real thrilled.”
Gretchen chuckled with the others, but her brain was screaming Yes, but what about Joe?!
“The sorest spot was the lack of effective insurance, that without it we can’t function. We are again covered under a temporary extension of our old policy, and are working with the carrier to determine a renewal. It’s possible that we’ll change carriers. It’s in negotiation. But we will remain insured.
“Another sore spot, of course, was disciplining a detective without due process. So I pointed out to the chief a small clause tucked away in the code: an officer who has been suspended cannot quit the force until the suspension is resolved. That keeps guys who were suspended with reason from simply ending a nasty situation by leaving. That’s not the case here, but because of the clause, Joe’s resignation wasn’t valid. I requested that in light of that, the resignation and suspension without due process be stricken from the record. The chief eventually agreed.”
Gretchen was getting tears in her eyes.
Jerry continued, “Hugh’s resignation, of course, was valid, but he has consented to return. I had to twist his arm a little. He’s still gunshy about that insurance business, and I don’t blame him.” Jerry glared at Bellamy and barked, “We all are.”
Bellamy shrank back further. When Jerry glared, you felt the heat.
“Right now, Hugh is at Bridgid Rodriguez’s fire station keeping a protective eye on her. He’ll come back on tomorrow.”
Gretchen smiled inside. She smiled outside, too.
“Bottom line, after further conversation, the chief has invited me to try to bring the division back together. To regain what we had and lost. Therefore I have withdrawn my letter of intent and will remain for two more years as originally planned. We hope to…”
Gretchen began applauding. She found to her surprise that she couldn’t stop. Then Joe and Tommy were on their feet applauding, and so was she. In fact the whole room was standing and clapping. Once before in the time she’d known Jerry, she had seen tears in his eyes. It was when the department pooled funds for Jerry and Marj to go on a much-needed getaway, a cruise.
There were tears in his eyes again.
In zoo coveralls and a zoo baseball cap, Hugh Bartoli raked and tidied around the zoo entrance kiosk. Between the African exhibit and the food stand, Jerry Hocks relaxed at a table, thoughtfully licking an ice cream cone. It was his third one of the morning. In a brunette wig and sunglasses, Gretchen Weimer Flaherty raked the walkways between the emu and the ladies’ restroom. Her husband Thomas Flaherty stood under a shade umbrella with his ball cap pulled low, clerking at one of the tables that sells overpriced trinkets. Meanwhile, Joe and Bridgid Flaherty Rodriguez strolled casually in the general direction of the new orangutan enclosure. The most deceptive disguise of them all was Joe’s feigned nonchalance.
Chances were remote that Stover had heard him mention the zoo. Chances were more than remote that Stover would come now even if he heard. But if perchance he did hear, and he did come, chances were very, very good that he would slip past them all again, and Bridgid was in the midst of it this time. The madman would gladly die rather than let her live. Joe broke into a cold sweat thinking about it.
Surely Stover wouldn’t get past Hugh and Jerry at the entrance or Gretchen farther in. They were waiting for him, looking for him. Tommy was halfway between the Gretchen and the orangutans; he would spot Stover if somehow the others missed him. Unless….
The back gate. Damn. There was a locked gate, covered in poultry netting and topped with barbed wire, beyond the children’s zoo, out of sight of visitors. Possibly, if Stover was prowling the periphery, he might recognize it as a potential means of entry. But that possibility was absolutely remote. And the zoo boundary was easier to get over than was that gate.
Joe and Bridgid arrived at the railing protecting the orangutans from all those visitors.
“Look, The baby’s out today.” Bridgid pointed.
Lily sat on the low platform on the left side of the enclosure. Her long, hairy arms cradled the infant loosely. She was munching contentedly on banana leaves.
Joe leant on the rail smiling. “Domestic bliss. And there’s Daddy on the other platform guarding the scene.”
Seba, the mature male, lounged against the tree trunk, eyes closed.
“He looks asleep. What is he guarding her from?”
“Nothing. He’s just guarding. We males do that a lot.”
And suddenly Stover was here! Damn he was here! Right here! Not a hundred yards away! He appeared from behind some vegetation, hesitated, looking around, and spotted Bridgid.
Joe threw her down and fell on top of her, covering her with his arms. He barely had time to scream “Stover!” into his handheld.
He couldn’t protect her this way. He scrambled to his feet. Last night they had argued about whether she should wear a flak jacket and they had decided no; she was so slight of build that it would be too suspiciously bulky. They also were nervous about a civilian with a handgun, so she wasn’t carrying her Airweight. Joe wished desperately now that the votes had gone the other way. He had coached her on taking the most protective position, but would she remember?
Stover’s eyes. They glowed with delight, with glee, with the most evil pleasure Joe had ever seen. It was palpable.
Joe went for his gun even though he knew that in these close quarters, a man with a kn
ife will triumph over a man with a gun. Stover rushed at him, jabbed at him. It would have disemboweled him, had the knife not scraped harmlessly across that flak jacket. Joe had his gun in hand now. Training and instinct told him hold; there were all these people around, parents and kids….grandparents…Not just the straight bullet trajectories but ricochets. No, forget instinct this time. He must fire! He must not hesitate! But training and instinct won, and he hesitated.
Now Stover was lunging toward Bridgid. Joe kicked him. He flailed at Stover, knocking the madman off balance. Joe punched. Bridgid remained curled up in a tight ball, protecting her neck with her arms.
Joe kicked again, trying to beat Stover away from Bridgid. Stover scrambled to his feet, but he had dropped his knife.
Wild-eyed, he screamed something; Joe didn’t know what; turned, and started toward the path to….He shrieked “Nooo!”
Here came Tommy at a dead run, and Gretchen. And Hugh and Jerry, guns drawn, were racing toward them on the other path. Stover skidded to a halt, turned toward Joe, turned back, turned aside. He grabbed the rail and jumped into the moat surrounding the orangutan enclosure.
Joe yelled “No! Don’t!” but he was way too late.
Lily was intently watching Stover. Seba was wide awake, also watching the interloper. And there was nothing Joe could do except shoot the apes.
Stover had messed up his left leg or foot dropping the twenty feet into the moat. He staggered to standing.
“Play dead!” Joe screamed over the side. “Stover! Play dead!”
Did he hear Joe? Probably; he glanced up toward him. But instead, he started walking at a ponderous limp toward the platform and Lily with her infant.
“No, Stover, down! Play dead!”
Seba, who was always so sluggish, so casual, so slow-moving and lethargic whenever Joe had watched him, leapt forward off his platform and swept across the compound in an instant. He grabbed Stover bodily, swung him up into the air as if he weighed ten pounds, and threw the man down.
Joe tried to aim without hitting Stover. His hands were shaking. Please God, don’t make me shoot Lily too!
Seba picked Stover up again and wrenched the fellow’s head so severely you’d think Stover had no occipital condyles.
The man went totally flaccid.
Jerry slammed against the rail beside Joe, aiming two-handed at the ape.
And Bridgid was there between them, pulling their wrists aside, forcing their guns to point downward into the moat. She was amazingly strong. “No! Please! He’s gone. Stover’s gone!” Her voice shrieked frantically, wild with terror. “Don’t! Please don’t! Murdering Seba won’t help. Please!”
A keeper popped out of the apes’ night enclosure. “Don’t shoot! Please! Oh God, please! Dinnertime, Seba! Come get your dinner now! And treat! Treat time, Seba! Come get your treat! Oh God, please don’t shoot!”
Seba wasn’t buying it, but Lily was. Still clutching her infant against that hairy body, she made her way toward the keeper slowly, casually, with the stately elegance of a matron.
Seba thought about it a bit. Then he simply dropped his enemy, this person who had threatened his family. Stover’s body, totally limp, plopped down and sort of melted into a small, nearly flat pile of clothes.
Seba paid it no further attention as he casually followed Lily into the den.
Pony Up Page 20