by J. T. Patten
“Well I have been trying to leave for the last ten minutes to make my rounds so I don’t get fired.”
“No, I mean why are you looking out for me and my daughter if I am back?”
“Bit of work, bit of personal. Your daughter seemed like a good kid. I felt bad that we couldn’t help in time and I felt like I should look in on her from time to time.”
“Bullshit.”
Whittington looked from side to side and lowered his head. “Well, frankly, your home situation was pretty messed up. Cops were going in a bunch of directions. We looked at it from a team perspective and thought it didn’t make sense. Looked like someone was doing all this because of you, not because of them. Since there wasn’t much information on you, it seemed like we should check it out. If you work in a team and you were being targeted for something you did in the so called line of duty, we figured shit rolls downhill and someone else could be in cross hairs next.”
“That’s pretty intuitive thinking.”
“We do a lot of predictive analysis based on indicators and scenarios for better warning. Not so much in my group, but we have a national support unit that spiders out to the regional and local level.”
“And can you carry firearms if you are on a protective detail?”
“No, sir, not unless we already had a license to carry. We have some off-duty cops that help us from time to time, licensed P.I.s in the ranks, stuff like that.”
“And you will up and go when I am cleared from this being a so called expanding issue?”
“Probably not. I am doing this job part-time while I am doing the other. It was a perfect fit. I may consider going into medicine even though I am a bit older. I saw some pretty bad shit in the sandbox. I need to clear my head and see how I can help people best and still make a good living in case I ever have a family.”
“OK. Makes sense. I think we can all use a little help clearing our heads. Sounds like you have your shit pretty squared away. Thanks for cluing me in on all this.”
“You really think you could take me?” Sean asked.
“I really wasn’t sure, sir. Just didn’t want you to hurt my back. I felt you pulling on my new skin. Grafts took pretty well and I didn’t want to have to go through that stuff again.”
“Fair enough.”
“What’s your first name?”
“My friends just call me Whitt. I gotta go. I’d like to hold on to this job for a while. I may transfer over to Loyola though. Trying to get there by the end of the week.”
“Well good luck.” The two shook hands.
As Whitt left, Havens cleared the table and finished the last drop of coffee. He was slowly getting hooked tighter and never saw it coming. This Silver Star group is all over. Could be a good gig for a bit.
Whitt left the cafeteria area and headed back to the nurse’s station to check on the rest of his tasks before heading home. He stopped by the bathroom to take a quick piss. The door opened as he was finishing up.
“Ah, hey, Tom, um, I don’t think we were properly introduced.”
The orderly, Whitt, turned around to see the security guard from his first day.
“Oh hey, yeah, good to see you again. I’d shake your hand but my hands are full.”
“No problem.” The old security guard kept his eyes at shoulder level or higher. “I’d say Semper Fi, based on what I saw on your application. Say, I’ve got some questions for you. I had you pegged as Army. But when I called up the University of Chicago Hospital, which you have listed as your former employer, they had no record of a Thomas Lawrence. Being a good Marine myself, I had to chuckle at the thought of Thomas Edward Lawrence. Don’t get to meet a man with the namesake of Lawrence of Arabia every day. You even a Marine? I know you ain’t Lawrence of Arabia.”
With that the orderly whipped his leg out, catching the security guard off balance and sending his feet into the air. Twisting in the opposite direction, the orderly threw his arms around like two baseball bats hitting the guard in the chest. Unable to catch his fall, the guard was flung backwards and slammed his head onto the floor. The orderly quickly put on a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and gave a forceful death blow to the guard by raising his head and smashing the back of the skull to hemorrhage the brain. The orderly then pulled his own sleeves up to the shoulder and balled a fist into the toilet while repeatedly flushing. Water cascaded from the bowl onto the floor. The toilet water flowed to the security guard. The orderly, careful not to get his shoes wet, picked up the guard’s torso and bent the knees quickly to ensure the soles of the guard’s shoes were wet. Drying off his own arms, he pulled down his shirtsleeves and exited the bathroom, leaving the victim of an accidental fall behind on the floor.
Chapter 33
Instead of staying at the hospital for the third night in a row, Havens drove home to take a hot shower and check on the status of the cleanup and repairs. Oddly, Lars’ car was not only at the house and parked in the driveway as opposed to the curb, but he had backed in. The lights were off. Havens came through the garage door to the family room where a fluorescent glow illuminated Lars staring at the wall. The TV was not on. Also unusual for Lars.
“Lars, what are you doing…What the hell is that?”
On the shelved entertainment center were two glass cubes. Tanks. The glow was emitting from the tanks. Aquarium tanks.
“It’s a long story.”
Havens walked up to the tanks. He leaned down, first looking at the one emitting the neon blue light.
“Is this what I think it is?”
“Sort of.”
“Why is there an octopus in my family room?”
“Alright don’t get mad, but I thought maybe you needed something to cheer you up a bit. So I got you a pet.”
“You got me an octopus for a pet?” Havens asked with a mix of irritation and disbelief. “And are…are these scorpions? You bought me a pet shop of exotic animals to cheer me up?”
“Hear me out. I was trying to do a good thing. I found a guy on Craigslist who was selling a blue-ringed octopus. I was thinking, you know, like from Octopussy, the really poisonous one that James Bond threw at that guy’s face. Or like that Michael Crichton book. Some ecoterrorists took the poison from this type of octopus. So, I thought, you know, you are kind of like this James Bond…”
“James Bond ecoterrorist? And this isn’t even a blue-ringed octopus. Those are tiny and this is larger and brown.” He stooped to examine it further. “Or grey. Lars it isn’t blue or ringed.”
“I said, hear me out. The guy said it was a big one, which made it so rare, and when I asked the same question he said it was because in a domestic setting it camouflages itself to grey.”
“And you believed him?”
Getting defensive, Lars shot back, “Well I’m no marine biologist or anything. What do you expect?”
“I expect you not to give me an octopus! This makes no sense. I mean what purpose does this serve? And what’s the story with these things?”
“Well I looked up a little something about octopuses, or octopi rather. Anyway, I saw that maybe this wasn’t the cool danger pet that I thought it was. So I went to the pet store and got a deathstalker scorpion. I thought that could be real badass.”
“This is big and black. That’s no deathstalker. It’s an emperor scorpion. And why would you get me a pet that could kill me?”
“Now, Sean, that’s just it. When I got it, and if you look close you will see the smaller yellowish white ones could be deathstalkers, but when I got it there was just that toilet paper tube and the emperor must have been under it. So, I’m not really sure what they are and I’m not sure if they could kill us or not.”
Havens burst out laughing. “Lars, that is the kindest and dumbest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“So you like them?”
“No, I hate them. Please get them out of my house.”
“Well, I already named the octopus, and it kinda looks cool there.”
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��Then bring it to your place.”
“But I got it for you. See the guy I got it from was trying to mate her. She kept killing the males, so he wanted to get rid of her. I named her Cougar. Get it? Like the single women who go to bars to…”
“I get it. I need a beer.”
“Here, I just got two for myself.”
Havens shot his brother-in-law a frowning glance.
“So I don’t have to get up.” He twisted the cap and handed Havens a beer.
“Are you going to be a permanent fixture here?”
“Just until I know you are safe.” Lars took a sheepish drink from his bottle, giving a sideways look to catch Sean’s reaction.
Lars, you damn big Baby Huey. I think you may be more screwed up over all this than I am. Who buys another man killer pets for therapy purposes? Distraction is right. Totally left field.
“You feed the pets. I’m going to go check on the place.”
“If you have a chance when you get back I want to talk to you about something else.”
“OK, I can wait.” Havens sat down on the arm of an overstuffed leather chair, crossing his arms and tilting his head in expectation of more unexpected news.
“I am thinking of selling my apartment and retiring. I found a place in Arizona that will put me near spring training and golf and I can still link up with a police department for part-time work to close the gap between my retirement benefits and some play money.”
“Wow.” Havens nodded his head solemnly, but at this point really couldn’t care less. “So where will you be? Are you sure you can’t wait a bit longer for your full retirement?”
“Scottsdale will be my main location but I was also able to pick up a fixer-upper not far from Glendale near Camelback.”
“I wasn’t aware you had that kind of money set aside. That’s great.”
“Yeah, well not too long ago I was at a seminar and there was a small booth in the exhibition area looking for some advisors for Hollywood writers. I thought it could be kind of fun. I had to have a big background screening and, believe it or not, a mental health test—or at least some questions about loyalty and stuff. Then after a lengthy contract process I was one of a few selected.”
“I had no idea. That is great. I never had heard from you or Christina that you were going back and forth to California.”
“That’s what is so great about it. They ask me about some ideas from a crime scene perspective and I tell them how a perp would probably do it. There are about five of us, from what I can tell. I never talk about it because I was under a strict non-disclosure agreement. I have probably written about twenty or so scenarios and they pay me very, very well, especially if it’s really detailed.”
So why the hell are you telling me all of this now?
“And I take it the gig pays very, very well as in thousands?” Havens felt like a scrutinizing parent to Lars. He was actually more jealous that Lars could land a job like that for some supplemental income.
“So far I’ve gotten about four hundred thousand.”
“Dollars?” Havens asked incredulously. “Why would they pay you so much? I mean no offense.”
“They pay well for technical advisors I guess. Anyway, I just thought you should know. Timing has been weird but I just wanted to share some good news.”
“Yeah, that’s great. So is it one of the big production houses?”
“Nah, they are just a niche writing house. I don’t know much about them.”
“Well, hmmm, did you ever think of maybe using some cop skills, detective?”
“They just have a few guys. That’s why they don’t have much history to check up on. They must be well connected. The firm is actually set up off shore in Dominica. Easier to keep their holdings to themselves so they can pay their advisors a little more. They don’t have to deal with overhead like buildings and what not either.”
“Are you telling me what you found, what they told you, or are you convincing yourself of this?”
“Nah, it’s all good. The guys are real nice. It’s just one of those small little gigs you would never think about that can make a ton of money.”
“And CPD is cool with it?”
Lars scratched his ear and looked down sheepishly.
“Well they really don’t know, and that is, ah, one of the nice things about the offshore side. I, ah, converted some of that money into real estate out in Arizona. Got a better deal on the property too since I could close with no financial or home sale contingencies.”
“Your deal man. Who am I to judge?”
Stupid ass, you are likely going to get your ass put in jail for tax evasion or get CPD Internal Affairs on your ass for living beyond your means. You will be lucky if this place lasts another year. Then again, you probably got what you needed out of it. Not a bad little deal if you would go about it a bit smoother. That is actually a pretty good scheme to use as a future cover for status course of action. Have to remember that one.
“Thanks, Sean.” Lars raised his beer to his brother-in-law. “And you, and, um, Maggie, will always have a place to stay. Nice place right by the mountains. Kinda rustic, but some real nice homes that are spread out from each other for privacy.”
As soon as he got the words out he put his beer down and wiped his eyes. Lars sat forward, his head bowed down in sorrow, and pressed his fingers to his eyes.
“Thanks, Lars. I am going to have a look around at the repairs.”
Without looking up, Lars nodded his head.
Havens left the room to check on the new carpet and window work.
Man, this is tough on him. I had no idea how broken up he would be. Glad he has something he can look forward to.
When Lars sensed that Sean had left the room he slowly peeked up from under his hands. Seeing Havens had left, he sat up, downed his beer, looked at his watch, and checked his phone.
That was easy. And no more questions.
Chapter 34
Havens woke from a deep sleep on the basement couch to the phone ringing. He fumbled to see which phone it was and saw it was a DC number.
“Hello?”
“Sean Havens please.”
“Speaking.”
“I was told to call you about some work you may be interested in. My name is Harrison Mann. I am with an outfit called Silver Star.”
“Right. Thanks for the call. I’m surprised to hear from you so soon.”
“Well, we just received some funds and new projects with the budget passing, so I need to do some staffing pretty quick. I heard about your background and a little of your story. I think we may be able to find some mutual benefit. When can you talk face to face?”
“What type of time frame are you looking at? I see you have a DC number, will you need me to come out there or are you in the Chicago area ever?”
“Number is DC but I am here in Chicago. This is my territory. I can do something as soon as today.”
“I will be downtown for most of the day, but any time after 11 works.”
“OK, do you know where the Union League Club is?”
“Sure.”
“Meet me there at 11:30.”
“Who am I looking for?”
“I’ll find you. See you then. Out.”
“Out, OK, bye.” The line was dead.
Dumb ass. Make up your mind, Mr. Amateur. You a military guy or a civilian?
Something as simple as hanging up the phone had a certain tell about who you are or what you did by how you ended it.
Out, over, bye bye, tootaloo, cheers. Out and bye worked best, but who is this Harrison—government, military, a business guy? What translated best for all three? Cheers? Bit old to be figuring this out now.
Havens shook his head laughing at himself.
Cheeriooo old boy. Red could pull that off, not me. Red’s a real good operational chameleon, despite the carrot top.
Havens put his phone away and reoriented himself with his surroundings. He hardly remembered coming downstairs las
t night. He recalled an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion. The house was getting restored and was almost to the point of looking as if nothing had happened. Still Havens couldn’t bring himself to sleep in his bed upstairs without his wife. With his daughter away in the hospital, there would be a deafening silence in the home were it not for the comings and goings of Lars tending to his circus menagerie of freakish pets.
Havens was pleased with the news of Lars moving to Arizona. While he enjoyed Lars in moderation, this Felix and Oscar setup in the house was not going to work. Most of the time, he and Lars just sat and drank beer while watching TV. Always sports. It was Christina who could stay up talking with Lars after the games had finished. She was Lars’ rock, and until she had married Sean, Lars was her protector as well. It wasn’t until this past week that Havens realized that the relationship he had with Lars was pretty superficial. He wondered if that was his own fault. Lars always tried reaching out to Sean, but he always seemed to reject it. In hindsight, Sean wished he had nurtured his relationship with Lars a bit better. It would have been easier to already be fully included in his circle of trust than trying to subtly break in now.
Sean could see how Lars would be an easy target for inducement. Messed up, no family to speak of, and few people really knew his patterns and proclivities to tip off any new unusual behavior. All of Lars’ behavior was unusual. Now this routine Lars described about receiving a consulting fee on a private basis to provide innocuous information sounded like the classic work of developing a contact. Lars could very well be developed for financial motive, getting him into the habit of doing things for a fee even if it was outside his comfort zone or meant looking the other way. Lars was a brilliant investigator but the death scene didn’t affect him much. He too was numb to normal events that should bother the soul. The question Havens now had to worry about—as if he didn’t have enough on his plate—was why this group would want to exploit Lars. Lars was already past the testing phase of assessing his inclinations. Havens wondered how much privileged information Lars was sharing about his crime scene expertise or about CPD. With over four hundred thousand dollars in his pocket, Lars was now deeply past assessment, development, and initial recruitment. With others evidently doing the same thing as Lars, he was a trusted source, fully recruited.