by Randall Dale
The doorbell rang. Demetrius looked over his shoulder toward the door and hollered toward Wanda in the kitchen. “I’ll get it.” He pushed the hard-backed chair away from the desk. It creaked as he pushed against the armrests to stand.
He squinted at the bright sunlight as he opened the door. There, with a frown and uncomfortable expression, was Dan, his partner. Demetrius shook his head. Not his partner, his former partner.
“Hello, Dan.”
By invitation, Dan stepped into the house. He nervously rubbed the envelope he held in his hands. “I’m sorry, Demetrius.” He passed the envelope to the bigger man. “It was an assignment. I didn’t have any choice.”
Demetrius felt the smoothness of the envelope as he turned it over in his hands. TUCSON POLICE DEPARTMENT was stenciled in blue letters above the return address. He glanced at Dan.
The younger man licked his lips. “I want you to know that the rest of us are behind you on this, but the Lieutenant is calling in all his favors to get you dismissed.”
“I figured as much.” He frowned and pointed toward the monitor flickering in the corner of the room. “I’m actually going through police websites for job postings. There are some good ones out there. I’ll be fine.”
Dan nodded then held his hand for a shake. Demetrius grasped it quickly. “Thanks, Dan. You’re the best partner I ever had.”
The smaller detective excused himself, leaving Demetrius standing at the door watching him go. Wanda came to look over his arm at the retreating figure.
“What did he want?”
Demetrius held the envelope for her to see. “My notice of the preliminary meeting.”
She sighed, squeezed his arm and rested her head on his shoulder.
After closing the door, he carefully tore the end of the envelope until only a tiny tab remained attached. The thin strip of paper dangled and shook as he blew into the end of the envelope. As it expanded he reached in and withdrew a single sheet of folded paper. He read it silently before handing it to his wife. “Monday morning, nine o’clock.”
She scanned the paper and nodded in agreement.
◆◆◆
Demetrius stood in boxer shorts and a white T-shirt just inside the white-painted fold-out doors of the walk-in closet. In front of him, his assortment of sports jackets hung on the bar. He slid them one at a time along the rail trying to decide what to wear.
“Too casual,” he muttered. He reached farther into the closet to his collection of suits. “That’s better.” He slipped one from the hanger and held it in front, deciding it would work just fine.
After dressing, he looked in the mirror, turning from side to side to make sure everything was right. With a frown, he realized it wouldn’t make any difference in the long run anyway. The Lieutenant had it in for him and there was no way around that. On the bright side, he’d been able to contact a friend who now worked for the Denver PD as a detective. He’d mentioned they were shorthanded and he was sure he could get Demetrius an interview. With a sigh he looked out the window to his neighbor’s green lawn and flowering trees, the bright sun and the clear blue sky. He was going to hate leaving.
◆◆◆
Demetrius stepped from his car with the distinct feeling he was being watched. He looked around but could see no one. A characteristic beep came from the car as he pushed the lock button on the remote. With a frown and a cluck of his tongue, he stepped to the sidewalk, then, though he certainly didn’t feel like it, he purposefully stood straight and forced a tiny smile to his face. As he walked toward the side of the building, Dan stepped from the shadows.
“We just want you to know we’re pulling for you.” He flipped a green, coin-shaped object.
Demetrius caught it mid-air. It was a metal cutout of a four-leaf-clover. “Thanks.”
With a nod, he walked past then jogged up the steps. As he opened the door and stepped inside, the entire lobby suddenly became quiet. His smile actually expanded. It was just like in the movies when the condemned man enters. Well, he decided, he was losing his job so at this point in time he might as well play to the crowd. “Good morning.” His bellowing voice echoed through the foyer and hall.
They looked at him now and a few even answered with a “good morning” of their own. He chuckled then strode in a somewhat better mood to an intersecting hall. The door to the conference room was open so he marched right in. The Lieutenant sat at the head of the table flanked by two, uncomfortable-looking detectives. Demetrius knew them well. He nodded and took the same seat he’d occupied a week earlier.
“Good morning, Crown.” The Lieutenant scowled and his voice dripped with sarcasm. It was not Detective Crown or even Mr. Crown, only Crown.
The temporary reprieve from his week-long bad mood left Demetrius immediately. The outcome was certain. He wondered why he should stay. Maybe he should make it easy on himself and resign and get it over. He looked into the smug face of the pompous bureaucrat and decided he wouldn’t make it that easy on the man. Besides, two could play this game.
“Good morning to you, Bondurant.” He smiled inwardly at the expression of his boss. No one dared call him by his name if not preceded by the title of Lieutenant.
The man seethed. He picked up a sheaf of papers and tapped them on the table just for something to do with his hands and a little tic started in his right eyelid.
“Shall we begin?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but charged ahead. “This is an internal investigation. You are not being charged with a crime, rather, we are here to determine if your actions of the previous four months were egregious. If in our determination they were, our recommendation will be to have you brought up before the Committee on Standards. Do you understand?”
Demetrius looked from the Lieutenant to the detective on the left then the one on the right. Neither met his eye. He was sure they had already been coerced into voting for a hearing. No doubt they owed the overrated boss something and he was calling favors.
“I understand.”
“Very well. You have fifteen minutes to explain to us why you made every effort to keep a murderer apprised of all aspects of an ongoing investigation of his own crimes.”
Fifteen minutes? Fifteen lousy minutes to defend a lifetime of work? Demetrius wondered if he should say anything at all. He rubbed the smooth wood of the table and thought of the early days in the department. He’d been a good cop and a good detective. He thought of his relationship with Edward and admitted inwardly that the boy had played him like a fiddle. Still, he’d only been trying to help. He formulated his arguments, but realized he was toast no matter what he said. He looked at the detectives, then at the Lieutenant.
“I was trying to make him a better person.”
The Lieutenant scoffed and Demetrius decided right then and there that he wouldn’t speak again. Nothing he could say would make them understand. If anything, it might make things worse.
The silence in the room was deafening. The Lieutenant tapped the table. “Well?”
Demetrius sat quietly. He’d accepted his defeat. There was no way out.
A loud knock came at the door, then it opened. The Lieutenant shot a death glance for only an instant until he realized who the intruder was. He jumped from his chair. “Good morning, Chief.”
The Chief, in an expensive business suit, took another step into the room to stand directly behind Demetrius. “May we join you?”
“Of course, of course. Please, take my chair.” The Lieutenant jumped up and pushed the chair toward his boss.
Demetrius watched and listened with disgust. The brown-nosing pipsqueak. If that’s what it took, he never wanted to work in administration. He suddenly looked up in thought at the Chief’s request. He’d said we and not I. Demetrius wondered who else was there. He couldn’t see because the Chief stood directly to his rear, but he heard the commotion as the newcomers entered.
“I’d like to introduce you to Mrs. Lucinda Smallwood and Marcus Swanson.”
Demetrius jerked
around at the names. To his bewilderment, they stepped around the Chief, nodded, then retreated to the far end of the table. The Chief touched Demetrius’s shoulder before joining the woman and the boy.
The Lieutenant returned to his seat, obviously confused by this unusual situation. “Uh. We were getting a statement from Detective Crown.”
The Chief leaned both arms on the polished table. “I think it might be a good idea to allow our visitors to contribute.”
“Uh. Yes. Of course.” The Lieutenant shifted in his chair, nervously peering at Lucinda. “Please. Anything you’d like to add.”
She looked at the Chief and got a nod of permission. She then looked at Demetrius and smiled before concentrating on the man at the head of the table.
“First, let me introduce myself in case you didn’t make the connection. My husband, Dr. Carl Smallwood, was the first person murdered by the boy, Edward. Carl knew Edward and had him in class. He was a boy with potential but no purpose in life. Over the years Carl helped many students by mentoring them, helping them earn a college degree and encouraging them to go on to be productive members of society. Before his death, my husband persuaded Detective Crown to continue that tradition. Out of the goodness of his heart, he was willing to do so.” She pointed at Marcus. “Marcus here is one of the boys. Ask him how beneficial a mentor, especially a mentor who cares, can be to a college student.”
All eyes focused on Marcus. He nodded. “That’s right.”
Lucinda continued, “Carl invited the boy Edward to enter into a mentoring relationship to help him find himself, but the boy refused. Later, as Demetrius and Edward got acquainted, the boy agreed. He obviously had mental issues, but that is not Detective Crown’s fault. Are you going to ruin a man’s life because of the mistakes of another? Rather than ostracizing him for taking Edward under his wing you should praise him for his willingness to do so.”
The Lieutenant raised his eyes to the Chief, obviously looking for a clue as to his next step. Demetrius looked from one man to the other and could see the Lieutenant was being ignored. The Chief then focused completely on Demetrius.
“Detective Crown, did you supply the killer with information from your investigation that would have allowed him to evade capture?”
That was the very question Demetrius had been asking himself for the past week. “No, sir. I’ll admit we talked about the case, but I can honestly say there is no way the information I shared would have allowed him to avoid the inevitable.” He paused and blinked at a new thought. “And to be honest, sir, it was because of what I knew about him that I came to the conclusion he was the killer on that terrible night when he took my wife.”
The Chief turned to the Lieutenant. “What do you have to say about that?”
The man swallowed. It was becoming apparent to everyone in the room he was uncomfortable with the direction the meeting was going.
“Uh. I suppose he has a point.” He looked to the Chief for a sign of approval. None came.
The Chief slapped his hand on the table. “Then I say it’s time for a vote. All those in favor of recommending a review by the Standards Board raise your hand.”
The two detectives leaned back and folded their arms tightly across their chests. The Lieutenant glanced furtively at each, then as he looked to his boss, kept his hands flat on the table.
The Chief stood. “I guess that about does it, doesn’t it?” He looked at the Lieutenant before turning and leaning over the table to shake hands with Demetrius.
The big detective stood and clasped the Chief’s hand with relief. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, thank Mrs. Smallwood. When she came to me yesterday and explained the situation, I agreed you shouldn’t be punished for trying to help. We need more good men like you.” He turned to the Lieutenant. “Don’t we, Lieutenant?”
“Uh. Yes, sir.”
◆◆◆
The Glock in his shoulder holster never felt so good. He fingered the good luck charm in his pocket and decided he’d carry it every day. In the reflection of the mirror, he saw his wife studying him from the other side of the room. She was almost back to the way she was before the terrible night, although he knew something so traumatic would leave scars for years to come. He turned with a wide grin.
“You look great.” They were getting ready to go out to eat, to celebrate, and she wore a form-fitting silver dress.
She smiled. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” He had changed into slacks and a sports coat with a blue tie. He tugged at the lapels and noticed a crinkling sound. From the coat pocket he extracted a folded paper. With a snap of his wrist, the sheet extended. He looked at it for a moment. It was the flyer about summer internships at the department. For a moment he was depressed as he thought of Edward and the promise he’d made to himself to never let anyone get close again. He frowned. The thought made him melancholy.
“What’s wrong?”
Her question brought him back to the present. “Just thinking about the last few months. I can’t believe I was so blind.” He reached his hand toward her. She took it and he pulled her to sit on the bed. “I’m sorry I put you in danger. I’ll never let anyone get close like that again.”
She held his hand in her lap and rubbed his knuckles. After a moment she looked into his face. “You can’t blame yourself. He did what he did and that’s that.”
“I should have paid more attention.”
“You did pay attention. That’s what you do and we all love you for it. You can’t change because one boy didn’t respond to your offer to help. That was his decision. Your decision now is whether to keep helping boys like Marcus. You made a promise to Carl. I won’t let you renege on that.”
They sat quietly, neither speaking for a long time. Finally, he reached to rub her cheek and look deep into her eyes. “What if I’m not the right guy?”
“You may not be the right guy for every student, but you will be the right guy for many. That’s the way Carl was. You told me yourself some didn’t take advantage of his help. That was their choice. But what about the many who did? You, for example. Where would you be now if not for Carl?”
He stared unseeing across the room, then reached with his free hand for the paper on the bed. He smiled tentatively. “There is the boy William. He’s a criminal justice major. He’ll make a good cop. Maybe I could sponsor him?” He studied her face for approval and found it in the softness of her eyes.
He stood, replaced the paper into his jacket pocket then took Wanda’s arm. “Are you ready? I’d like to stop to see him on the way.”
◆◆◆
The porch light beamed brightly and lit the sidewalk outside the apartment. Demetrius strolled toward the door with a spring in his step. He knocked loudly. The pretty wife answered the door and obviously recognized him from his earlier visit.
“Oh, hello.”
She didn’t sound too thrilled to see the detective who had almost arrested her husband and he had to agree that if the tables were turned, he’d feel the same way.
“Good evening, Mrs. Johnson. Is William home?”
Her manners showed through. “Yes, please come in.” She opened the door wider to let him enter. “Honey,” she yelled.
William held the baby in his arms as he walked from the back. He wore a pair of blue, knee-length, University of Arizona shorts. As the boy stepped around the couch, Demetrius saw the prosthesis and wondered again how the young man could get along so well with the contraption.
“Hello, William. I seem to remember from our earlier conversation that you are a criminal justice major. Is that right?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve always wanted to be a cop.”
“I see. And do you have a job?”
“No, sir. I’m going to school on the GI Bill.” He looked to his wife. “It’s a struggle but we’re getting by.”
Demetrius smiled as he reached into his pocket for the flyer. “I’d be proud to sponsor you for this internship and also work with you as a
mentor, you know, helping you stay motivated to get your degree and all. Are you interested?”
The boy’s eyes lit up. “A paid internship? Boy howdy, am I ever interested!” He thrust his hand for a shake.
Demetrius grasped it firmly and felt an immensely satisfying warmth creep from the small of his back. It slowly washed onto his shoulders, then around to settle comfortably in his chest. In his mind, he saw the next blank page in Dr. Smallwood’s book with a picture of him standing next to William on graduation day. It felt good. No, he thought, better than good, it felt fantastic.
He paused at the door of his car as he thought of his own first visit with Carl on the fourth floor of the chemistry building twenty years earlier. He remembered the sainted man’s relaxed manner and contented smile.
Demetrius slipped into the driver’s seat and peered at Wanda in the luminosity of the car’s dome light. Her face and eyes radiated a glow of love. He reached for her hand.
“Thank you for your support, Wanda. William said yes and they’ll come for dinner Tuesday night. Are you up for it?”
Her smile and nod were all the confirmation he needed.
The End
Other books by Randall Dale
Pardner’s Trust Series
Pardner’s Trust
Friends in Deed
Hidden Regrets
A Good Man Gone
Branson Hawk Series
The Wichita Connection
Dead Man’s Gold
The Beginning
Curley
The Posse
The Captain’s Coat