Killing Frank Barnes

by Ruth DuCharme

  Joel elected to climb the four flights of stairs instead of taking the elevator. Less chance of being seen that way and he could duck into another floor if someone came his way. He entered the fourth floor through the door from the stairwell and turned left down a long corridor. Little plant stands stood sentry outside each door and everyone had those dumb mats welcoming visitors to knock. Joel hated it. These people were such posers and apparently, his Big Bro had decided to enter mainstream suburbandome along with all the other sheeple.

  Joel found the door to number 4D. A wreath on the door signified Fall was here. Stupid plastic pumpkins and colored leaves hot glued to a circle of straw. Some craft project a third grader could do. Gag me again. His brother was into this life good. Well, he was in for a surprise and Joel couldn’t wait to see the look on his brother’s face when he saw Joel had come home.

  Joel grumbled under his breath, “Always leaving me to move on to bigger and better, aren’t you? Leaving my ass behind. You’re caught now brother dear. ‘Spy’ is over and I want my prize.”

  Chapter Ten

  Officer Dekker opened his locker and stared inside. This was the first time he had put on a uniform in over four years. He absent-mindedly ran his hand over his freshly shaved face. Working narcotics could sport a nice trashy beard and long hair. Now he was back in blues and the regulations mandated short hair, clean-shaven.

  These past two years had been a jumble tumble mess and Dekker’s chest tightened just thinking about what happened. He was lucky to have survived the stress of it all. The humiliation, the public and private scrutiny, the doubt.

  Dekker frowned at the sergeant chevrons on his class A uniform jacket. Even though he had been demoted to a training officer he kept the chevrons on his formal jacket. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe he just needed a reminder of what he used to love. Maybe somewhere inside he held out a little hope of sewing those chevrons back on his regular uniform once again.

  Dekker counted himself fortunate that he hadn’t lost his job during the last investigation. He skated by with just a demotion. He couldn’t believe they would let him train rookies after all the accusations he survived.

  Dekker was still in the dark about what happened in that last operation but someone had died and another someone got away with a ton of dope and cash. He took the fall for it. The accusation of “failure to supervise” and subsequent criminal investigation put him out of commission for quite some time. When cash and drugs go missing and a drug dealer gets shot and killed during a routine buy bust– heads will turn. When they did, the eyes were looking right at him.

  Dekker wasn’t even there when it happened but he couldn’t justify that with Internal Affairs. Narcotic’s was Dekker’s unit after all so he took the hit. He hadn’t necessarily lied about where he was and what he was doing. Dekker just hadn’t been prepared to admit he had been sleeping off a bender from the night before and hadn’t even known about the operation. He realized too late that Werner had gotten in over his head. Dekker knew he should have been there. He should have been supervising and making sure nothing went south. He mentally kicked himself every time he thought about that day.

  Dekker had retained a good lawyer. With half-truth and circumstantial evidence on his side, there wasn’t enough to put him off the force completely. Losing his sergeant status was painful but at least he still had his job.

  Dekker’s team had backed his play and taking the hit had gone a long way with them. At least most of them. Dekker winced at the knowledge that Werner was now not only in charge of his old squad but an even bigger jerk than ever.

  So here Dekker was. Getting ready to hit the streets with a rookie. A female no less. He was only five years from his pension so he could ride this gig to retirement if he stayed under the radar. As long as his rookie was easy and he could manage not to make any further mistakes, he just might make it.

  “First day back, huh?” A deep voice penetrated his trip down memory lane. Werner walked in with his hulking frame and attitude to boot. This man was the most arrogant man Dekker knew.

  “They let you come back after all, hey? Back on rookie duty.”

  “What do you want, Bill”

  “Nothing, old man. I just came by to wish you good luck in all your new endeavors. Sitter to the baby cops.” Werner smirked in derision.

  “Yeah? Well thanks. Your well wishes are enormously uplifting”

  “Maybe this time you can keep your rooks from getting their butts in a ringer. And just maybe, you don’t get anyone killed”

  “Maybe this time I can train a new boot to have some integrity and a little more humility.”

  “I’m sure if you had integrity you could teach it.”

  “I know you had something to do with that missing money. What happened to your informant? I bet you had a little something to do with his disappearance as well.”

  “You can’t prove a damn thing. Dirty cop, you’re lucky you only got a suspension and demotion. Come after me and see what happens. You think your career bump is painful just watch me burn you to the ground. You had your chance to get on board and you blew it. Wanna be a whistleblower? Be very careful about that decision or you may get bagpipes instead.”

  Dekker threw the punch before he had even thought it, knocking Werner square in the jaw.

  Werner recovered from the cheap shot almost immediately. Catching Dekker’s outstretched wrist, Werner twirled him around and put him in a chokehold. Werner outweighed and out-muscled Dekker by at least fifty pounds and was lesser in years by ten. More fit, more agile and angrier.

  “Listen here, old man. That little love tap was nothing. You can't hurt me. You can't even scratch me!”

  Dekker struggled unsuccessfully to get out of the hold but he was losing consciousness. Werner’s muscles flexed against Dekker’s carotid artery a little tighter making the empty locker room grow fuzzy around the edges. “Screw you” Dekker muscled through clenched teeth

  “Not until you say ‘Uncle’” Werner chuckled in his ear.

  “Not a chance.” Dekker could actually feel his facing turning reddish purple.

  A group of officers going off duty pushed through the locker room door with a bang. Werner quickly released Dekker.

  Officer Camden quickly evaluated the scene in front of him. “What’s going on here gentleman?”

  “Nothing” Werner said, a smile encompassing his white teeth. Werner released his grip on Dekker’s throat and dusted of his shoulder exaggeratedly.

  “A little wrestling match for old times' sake is all. Me and old Sarge here are just catching up.”

  With that, Werner clapped Dekker on the back with a hard thump that made him lurch forward. Dekker bent over at the waste catching his breath and his hand stabilizing him on the bench in front of him.

  “Uh huh. Doesn’t look like he needs anymore of your well wishes.”

  “I was just on my way out anyway, kiss-ass.”

  Werner jostled his way through the rest of the officers who were pretending not to notice the mini squall. With a few fist bumps Werner sauntered out of the locker room door.

  “You ok, Sarge?” Camden asked as he opened the locker next to Dekker’s and began undressing.

  Dekker sat on the bench catching his breath.

  “Yes. I’m just not as young as I used to be.”

  “That guys an Adam Henry.”

  “Guys like him are a dime a dozen. Just stay away from him. He's trouble.”

  “I know Sarge. I’m sorry you ended up here but at least you still have a job”

  “You think I did what they say”

  “No” Camden looked down and away from Dekker’s gaze. He was a little embarrassed to realize that maybe he had believed some of it.

  “Don’t worry, kid. It's old business and you don’t have to choose sides. Just keep your own nose clean.”

  “Look, I wasn’t there and don’t know all the details. I know if Werner had anything to do with it, it was nothing straight up. I
’ve been around him enough to know that guy works in the gray.”

  “Camden, you’ve only been here six months. Do yourself a favor and do your own thing. Don’t align with anyone. Me or Werner. It can come back and bite you.”

  “Noted.” Camden gathered up his belongings and secured his locker. Dekker glanced up at Camden’s outstretched hand. He smiled a crooked smile as he shook it.

  “I’m out of here,” said Camden. “Have a good shift. Be safe.”

  “Will do.”

  Dekker got up heavily and finished getting dressed. Great way to start off his first day back. Everything that happened in his career over the last two years threatened to overshadow this next chapter. He had to let it go somehow. Dekker slammed his locker door shut. The slam echoed loudly his sentiment on his entire police career.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lizzie stood in front of the full-length mirror in the women’s locker room, listening to the good-natured rough and tumble sounds coming through the shared wall of the men’s locker room. She smiled and straightened her gig line. The city of Roland was nothing like the sleepy town of Bodega where she had grown up but the 52 miles of shoreline Roland boasted had seemed as close to home as she could get. Roland garnered the title of “most dangerous city per capita” but even that hadn’t deterred her.

  Another loud thump from the men’s locker room shook the mirror in front of her. If the guys letting off steam next door were anything to go by, she wondered what they would think of her. Gathering her long blond hair into her fist she twisted it tightly into a bun on top of her head and slicked back all the fly-aways. She glanced one more time in the mirror. The smattering of freckles across her nose didn’t help her look older than her twenty-six years but in fact made her appear almost like a kid playing dress up. Would anyone take her seriously? Shaking off the self-doubt that was creeping in, Lizzie gathered her duty bag. With her head held high in an effort to minimize the lack of confidence she felt, she made her way to the briefing room.

  Lizzie stopped just inside the threshold of the briefing room. She took a minute to surveille the room and get her bearings. About 700 square feet, the room was filled with tables lined up end to end in rows of five. They all faced the front of the room where two large desks sat on a raised platform. A bank of windows opposite the entrance gave view to the north parking lot where rows of patrol cars were backed into their assigned spots. Lizzie could see several motor officers polishing up the chrome on their bikes.

  Lizzie knew the front row of seats were set aside as “rookie row” but she wasn’t sure what etiquette dictated. Did she grab a seat? Stand in the back until told to take a seat? She was early but being the first one in the room meant she had no one to ask. The combination of first day nerves and hair pulled up tight produced the beginnings of a migraine.

  Lizzie decided to take a seat in rookie row. She put her large gear bag down with a thump. Lizzie found her penal code and her ten codes. She figured if she was studying when everyone else came in, she might reduce the chances of getting hassled. She heard from other rookies that the first day could be tough and to expect some good-natured hazing. Being a woman in a man’s profession was tough. This may be the 20th century but some of the guys still didn’t believe women should be doing “their” job and made no secret about it. Lizzie set her teeth in defiance at the thought and tried not to make herself look smaller. The local church bells began to ring, signaling four o’clock and officers started to trickle into the room.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lizzie needn’t have worried. The officers entered but no one even glanced her way as they took their seats behind her. She glanced up from her codebook as an older cop sauntered into the room. He stared at her as he slid behind her chair. He took a seat at the end of her row and crossed his ankle over his knee.

  “Hey Superman what’s up the red socks?” Laughed an officer from the back. Lizzie couldn’t tell who was making the comment and she dared not turn around to see. She could still feel “red socks” eyes on her.

  “It’s Spiderman, kid. You know these are my lucky socks. I got to be able to slip in and out of the shadows unnoticed and swing from building to building.” He said. Red socks voice was monotone and yet held a certain warmth behind it. Lizzie had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t as dry as he seemed.

  Good-humored bantering continued as more officers straggled in. Lizzie continued to pretend that she was deep in her studying until she heard someone say “Hey Sarge welcome back.”

  Lizzie looked toward the door in time to see a male officer, in his forties, dark hair, worn face with the beginnings of red marks on his neck. He stopped just inside the doorway. His nametag read T. Dekker. He didn’t look happy to be here and he frowned at the officer snickering in the back. This time Lizzie looked behind her as the Dekker replied, “Glad to see you too, Officer Peterson.”

  “Shut up, boot,” Spiderman said to Peterson as he got up from his seat to shake Dekker’s hand, “Good to have you back Dekker.”

  “Thanks, John,” Dekker replied as he shook Spiderman’s hand firmly. They appeared to be old friends. Dekker took a seat in the back row.

  The room got quiet as a large man in a sergeant uniform strode through the door. Sergeant O’Connell was a bear of a man but when he passed Lizzie he glanced down and smiled warmly. That was all the acknowledgment he gave her as he took his seat at the desk on the platform in front of her.

  “Hey Sarge how was chemo?” Ofc. Camden joked from the back of the room. Everyone laughed and a wad of rolled up paper flew across the room bouncing off the table next to Lizzie before rolling onto the floor.

  The sergeant smiled again as he ran his hand over his gleaming freshly shaved head. “Yuck it up, Camden. You’re the reason I’m bald in the first place.” He replied good-naturedly.

  “Alright lets pull it in guys,” Sgt. O’Connell continued. “It’s Monday and it sounds like it got a little busy over the weekend. Anyone work it?”

  Another officer piped up. “Yeah I did.”

  “No surprise there. OT ho,” whispered Camden and everyone laughed

  “Hey, I got baby mamas to take care of!” Ramos laughed back.

  “Give us a rundown, please” Sgt. O’Connell interjected

  “Nothing too exciting. Shooting on Main Street. One of the d-boys was standing on the corner, car drives up and shots fired. We get there and of course no one saw a damn thing even though this kids brains were all over the crosswalk. Medical rolled in but it was too late. Detectives came out.” Ramos reported with a shrug of indifference.

  “Ok” said Sgt. O’Connell “we can expect some retaliation from rival gangs so take cover on all shots fired calls and stop everything rolling that looks even a little suspicious. Let’s get field interview cards on everyone we contact and see if we can’t drum up the usual suspects. Once graves comes on we can posse up and hit some corners. See if we can’t scare up some guns.”

  Lizzie’s head swam. What the heck were these guys talking about? It sounded like a foreign language? Posse up? D boys? What the heck was a field interview?

  The sergeant stood and handed Lizzie a stack of papers. “Take one and pass these around, please” he said.

  Lizzie took the papers and made her way around the room handing each officer one of the papers as instructed. She kept her eyes down and tried not to make eye contact with anyone. Dammit she was doing it again. Making herself look small. By the time she reached Ofc. Dekker she allowed herself to look at him straight on. She hadn’t initially realized he was her training officer. He never glanced up.

  Sgt. O’Connell spoke again as she finished her chore and took her seat. “Ok, the hot sheet is going around. Look’s like we had a stolen Honda off 23rd Street which wouldn’t be such a big deal except the owner reported he had a gun in the glove box. Apparently he left the car running in his driveway and went back in the house to grab something. He heard it drive off before he could come back out and go to work.”
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  Sgt. O’Connell continued, “Sex Crimes detectives sent down a bulletin about a string of peeping incidents that have been reported. Apparently this guy has been caught peeking in windows almost every night for the last two weeks. They wanted to get out the suspect description so we can make sure we step up our patrols in the area. That’s your beat Ramos so make sure you are visible this shift.”

  Ramos spoke up “Sarge I’ve been scouring that area every chance I get. I’ve even taken to hiding in the bushes just to see if I can catch him but so far no joy.”

  Camden piped up, “Hey dummy these people probably think YOU are the peeping Tom!” The room erupted with laughter as Ramos flipped Camden the one finger salute.

  Sgt. O’Connell got the room in order by saying, “Officer Noble, why don’t you introduce yourself.”

  The room became silent and all eyes turned on her as she nervously stood and faced the room. All of the air seemed to be sucked from the room as Lizzie looked around at the officers on her team. Ten officers in attendance and not one she recognized. No one smiled at her.

  Lizzie cleared her throat, “Hi, my name is Elizabeth Noble. I just graduated from the academy and I am excited to learn from everyone and be a part of the team.”

  “What did you do before police work, Officer Noble?” Prompted Sgt. O’Connell

  She glanced up at him and with a lopsided grin. “I was a preschool teacher.”

  Camden piped up, “Not much of a career change for you. Welcome to being a glorified babysitter, only with adults acting like teenagers.”

  “You could say the same for my job,” Sgt. O’Connell quipped.

  The team of officers laughed as Sgt. O’Connell continued, “Thank you Officer Noble. Welcome to Team Two. You can take your seat.”