by Colin Harvey
"Yeah sure, that's why Dad's not around!"
"Honey, it was lack of money, not us that made him go away."
Yeah, right, Mom.
XLVII
"Nice afternoon." Kotian squinted up at Shah from the park bench on which he sat.
He looks tired, Shah thought. But if he's feeling the pressure, he's not showing it. "You wanted to see me." He gazed around as he hitched up his trousers and sat. The park's probably changed less than any part of the city. Lovers still strolled hand in hand, the horses pulled their carriages around as they had for over a century and a half, and old men sat playing chess.
Eventually Kotian cleared his throat. "This isn't easy."
Shah didn't reply.
"If I knew who the Ripper was…"
Shah had narrowed it down to one of two or three men for some time, all of them in Kotian's organization. Now he was sure, at last. "You have to give him up."
"You have children, Officer. Wouldn't you do anything to protect your junkie daughter, for all her flaws? Love is unconditional." Kotian added hastily, "Not that I'm admitting that my son has anything to do with these attacks."
"Don't insult my intelligence, Abhijit. We both know who it is. Are you protecting him by letting him put himself in harm's way? If he's not caught, sooner or later he'll attack someone who's able to protect themselves. You want the knock on the door to be someone asking you to come identify his body?"
"If I was prepared to do some sort of deal, Officer, what could we scale the charges down to? Would the DA's office be prepared to settle for a diminished responsibility plea?"
Shah was damned sure that they wouldn't; the Ripper had shattered too many lives. But he said only, "I'm sure they'd consider it. But you know I can't promise anything. Even if we were on record, it's down to the DA. You need to hand him in."
"I'll think about it."
"Don't take too long. I'm going to have to tell my people about this, which means they'll come after the boy like a pack of wolves. You think that we've been all over you up until now? In the words of the old song, Abhijit, you really, really ain't seen nothing yet."
Kotian nodded, mind half elsewhere. Then he refocused, on Shah. "You did this, with your damned persistence."
"You expect me to apologize for doing my job?"
"It's more than a job to you, Shah. It's like a religious calling. "
Shah stared at Kotian. "If it is like some sort of calling, ask yourself Kotian, what else do I have, since everything else has been taken from me? It's all I have left. You want someone to blame, look in the mirror."
When Kotian had gone, Shah returned to the office, taking his eyepiece from his pocket calling in on the way. As he expected, van Doorn patched in Nancy Grunwald, who was scathing that Shah had kept his end of the deal. "You think that that piece of crap wouldn't double-cross you first chance he gets?"
Shah ignored her, instead asking, "What do you want to do?"
Van Doorn thought. "We focus on junior's trail over the last two or three years. We work with the Feds –and through them –– other jurisdictions to nail down every move this bag's made, and see if we can get enough circumstantial to build an overwhelming pattern, even without solid evidence. The priority now is Sunny. We throw everything at nailing him."
"Can we get his bail revoked?" Shah said.
"Unlikely," Grunwald said. "We'd need to prove both that there is significant new evidence, which we don't have, and that he's a risk, which we can't yet prove."
Shah's eyepiece cut in: Emergency incoming, personal. Shah flipped the line over.
"Pete," Leslyn said. "Where are you?"
"About five minutes away," Shah said. He was almost back at the office, which was near the clinic where Leslyn worked.
"Can you meet me?"
She looks terrified, Shah thought. "Now? Where?"
"Outside the clinic."
"I'll be there."
Shah flipped the line back. "Got to go." He ended the call.
He broke into a trot, but couldn't keep it up, so alternated between as fast a walk as he could manage and a half-trot. By the time reached Leslyn, he was panting.
She grabbed him in a fierce hug. "Some guy just stopped me as I was going into work." This was one of the weeks when his shift and Leslyn's barely overlapped. "He knew my name. When I asked him how, he started telling me all kinds of personal stuff about me, things he shouldn't, couldn't have known. As if he knew me intimately. Then he said what a shame it was that you'd been attacked." Leslyn held Shah even tighter, squeezing him until he struggled to breathe. "It was really, really creepy." Leslyn wiped an eye. "Sorry. I freaked."
"Don't be silly." Shah put his arms around her, rocking her from side to side. "Did he physically threaten you?"
"Not an actual threat, as such," Leslyn said. "He did say how awful it was to lose one's mind, like that partner of yours. Said it could happen to anyone at any time."
"It'll do," Shah said. "Did you get him on 'piece?"
"Not fully," Leslyn said. "He tried to stay out of my line of sight, but–"
Shah's piece beeped with an incoming; Leslyn sending the man's picture. Generic Asian-Indian, Shah thought, looking at dark skin and darker, hyperthyroid eyes. He sent an enquiry to the COTUS Cray and hugged Leslyn again.
Minutes later his phone pinged again. He forwarded the ID to Bailey with a covering message. "This guy's just threatened Leslyn. It's too much of a coincidence. Scour every camera in New York. I want to find something, sometime, somewhere tying him to Sunny. And I want protection for Leslyn sent to our home address. This is witness tampering, and it isn't diminished responsibility." Shah flagged down a cab, ushering Leslyn into it over her protestations. "Call it in as a family emergency," he said, joining her in the cab. "No arguing."
Shah and Leslyn spent a nervous half-hour at home until the detail arrived led by Bailey. "You both OK?" Said with barely a stammer, Shah noticed with approval. He saw Stickel in the background, and inclined his head. She forefingersaluted.
"The guy didn't touch her," Shah said, "but it's still a threat."
"We're here aren't we?" Stickel said, joining them. "What more you want?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Brought your protection detail." She indicated two uniformed officers.
"Thanks," Shah said.
Bailey said, "We have footage of them meeting. Not good enough to make out what they were saying, but we have lipreaders working on it. We've already snatched the other guy off the street, but he's probably one of scores. We need to cut off the head."
"He's over in Chinatown," Stickel said. "Acting as innocent as can be. Drinking coffee, yap-yap-yapping to his buds, studying the race odds, like he's on vacation."
"We going to pick him up?" Shah said.
"We are," Stickel said. "You're going to stay out of the way. If you get involved after he threatened your family, you know what line his defense team will take."
"Still." Shah followed them out, "I want to see this piece of crap get taken down."
"No grandstanding." Stickel dived into the squad car's front passenger seat.
Shah yanked open the rear door. "As if."
The cars sped through the city streets, blue lights ablaze, but sirens silent. Their lights cleared a path, though several times they only narrowly missed jaywalkers. Shah's thoughts raced through possible outcomes. Whatever happened, Leslyn's protection needed to stay in place for the moment, however much an imposition she felt it.
The radio squawked, "Ten-Thirteen!" the code for an officer needing assistance, "Suspect escaping–"
"There!" Stickel pointed, as Sunny erupted from a colonnaded arcade. The car screeched to a halt. Sunny skidded and fled away. The cops leapt out as Sunny fired over his shoulder, shattering glass. The crowds around him scattered in a starburst of panic.
Shah, Stickel and Bailey dispersed, racing after Sunny from different angles.
Sunny fired again and Stickel drop
ped as if coshed.
Shah knelt and took careful aim, mouthing a prayer that no one would cross his path. But before he could fire, shots rang out – one, two, three times – from several yards to Shah's right. Sunny's hands spread-eagled as if surrendering, and he fell in an untidy sprawl. Shah turned to see Bailey also kneeling.
She turned, white-faced and gazed at him.
Shah sighed, and thought, Old Man Kotian is going to go fucking ballistic. Shah didn't even like to think about what was going to happen now.
XLVIII
"You OK?" Shah said.
Bailey got to her feet and nodded. "I had to shoot him. I couldn't let you do it."
"Stickel! You alright?" Shah bellowed over the screams and shouts of the crowd who had scattered when the shooting started. They had returned and were now pressing in on Bailey, who knelt on one knee over Sunny's prone body.
"Yep. He didn't hit me," Stickel called back.
They elbowed their through the throng to join Bailey, who was checking Sunny's pulse, fingers to carotid. She shook her head. "He's gone." She leaned back, studying the corpse. "Two shots." She pointed at Sunny's shoulder, then at his heart.
Shah's eyepiece chimed. Van Doorn said, "I've just had the call. You shot Sunny."
"Nope," Shah said. "Bailey did. He was fleeing from an attack on an officer, I shouted for him to stop. He didn't, he was firing and there was a risk to the public. Before I could fire, she beat me to it."
"Good thing, too," van Doorn said. "But however righteous the shooting you're all reassigned to desk duty until IA have investigated it." He smiled bleakly, "Which means you'll meet Officer Harper again."
"Who?"
"Ah," van Doorn said. "You haven't met him, far as you remember. If your reports are corroborated by your eyepieces and witnesses, you've nothing to worry about."
"Why both?" Shah slapped his forehead. "Course. We might've tampered with them."
"Exactly. Now, get back here."
Aurora saw the precise moment that Kotian finally took of his protective mask of charm, or began to disintegrate, depending which version she wanted to believe, the psychiatrist for the defense, or the police.
She had agreed to meet him for a drink. She knew the barkeep, and was fairly sure that he wasn't one of Kotian's men. She sat with her back to the wall, and watched everyone coming in and going out.
"My 'piece is streaming a live-feed to a safety-deposit box," she said with a sad little smile after they had exchanged hellos and kisses. "Just in case there were any misunderstandings."
"My dear, why would you want to do that?"
"I've heard certain… rumors… that my reliability is in question," Aurora said. "Not you, of course. But some of your associates have hinted at things. So I thought it best to be sure."
"Always best to be sure of things." Kotian ordered drinks. "So I wanted to be sure that you weren't avoiding me because of any mis–" His 'piece chimed. Aurora recognized his customization of the priority incoming. "Excuse me."
Aurora just happened to be looking at him, saw his face turn ashen. "When? How? Who?" His hand went to his mouth, and she noticed him swallow, Adam's apple rise and fall once. "Keep me posted." His voice sounded as if he had a throat full of gravel.
"What's wrong?" She said when he took off his 'piece. Even now, she hated to see him distressed – and he clearly was.
He shook off her hand. "They shot Sunny."
She took his hand again, and this time he let her as he shaded his eyes with the other hand. She didn't say, But you have another son, now. You've been saying for two years that now you have another son, you don't have to look the other way to his little peccadilloes. "Oh, Abhijit, I'm so sorry."
"Shah did it. That bastard, double-crossing Shah."
Aurora frowned. What did he mean?
He put his 'piece back on, and sat for a moment, scanning the newsfeeds. He laughed, a single explosive bark more like a cough. "They're accusing him of being the Ripper now, now that he's not here to defend himself. The cowards."
"Abhijit, you should go to Amy and the children," Aurora said.
He took off his 'piece and gazed at her, and at the terrible look in his eyes, she fell silent. "They're saying he was the Ripper," he said in a quiet voice that nonetheless nearly made her wet herself with fear. "They will not besmirch our name."
Stickel rode back with Shah and Bailey in a squad wagon, leaving a uniform to drive her pool car back. "I thought you might get caught in the crossfire," Bailey said
"Change the subject," Stickel said. "They don't like us talking 'bout incidents, in case we swap stories."
"Are they going to keep us apart?" Bailey said.
"Yeah, that's the by-the-book," Stickel said, "but this be the real world. Desperate shortage of veh-i-cles, so we get to ride back together. Cozy, huh?" She winked at Shah who smiled. "You OK?" Stickel said. "You don't look too good."
Shah shook his head, decided it would be a waste of time to try and explain his odd feeling of numbness. "Is it always like this?" he said. "The whole 'Get your ass back and don't talk to anyone' thing?"
Stickel nodded, giving Shah's arm a reassuring squeeze. "We hit people a lot of the time, not like in films where everyone shoots a lot but no one ever gets hit. This all about convincing people that it's a good cause. Politics, it's called."
They arrived at the precinct, and bundled out.
Inside Shah took a few minutes to compose himself. He resumed working through the outstanding dockets, but it was difficult to focus. His thoughts kept sliding away – to the shooting, to Leslyn, to Aurora – anywhere but where he was.
Every time he closed his eyes, Shah saw Sunny's outflung hands.
He sat back and closed his eyes. There had been no revenge. Just duty, and closing off the old life. Maybe now I can draw a line under it.
Shah suspected though, that while he had finished with Sunny Kotian, the young man's family hadn't yet finished with him.
"You OK?" a woman's voice said.
Shah opened his eyes. Kimi stood with a sheaf of notes in her hand, looking worried. "I heard what happened."
Shah half-smiled. "News travels fast."
"Good news." She patted his shoulder. "John would approve."
"It isn't like that," Shah said.
"Glad to hear it, Officer," a man said.
"Got to go," Kimi muttered, and fled.
Shah twisted in his chair. The speaker was a tall, red-haired man with a closely trimmed beard.
Shah checked his eyepiece's log. "Harper," he said.
"You needed to check?" Red-hair said.
"Surprisingly, none of my 'Get Well' downloads included a memory of meeting you."
Red-hair thrust out a hand. "Officer Marius Harper."
"Internal Affairs Guy." Shah stood and shook. "You investigated me before, I gather."
"So it's true," Harper said. "You don't remember?"
"You must have read my dossier," Shah said. "Doesn't that tell you everything?"
"But it's the change in you. When I read about it, I assumed that they'd stick you together again, and I guess they have enough for you to function as a cop." He paused. "But it's like meeting a different person."
"How so?" Shah said, waving at Harper to pull up a chair.
Harper shook his head. "I need to get on. I'm pulling together visual evidence, so I'm going to need your eyepiece. Don't worry, I'll give you a receipt." He added, "You seem calmer, not so edgy. Like you've been reset to zero, and the job hasn't monsterfied you – yet."
"Is monsterfy even a word?" Shah grinned, handing over his eyepiece. "Regs say I can have a union rep present. He hasn't called me back yet. Soon as he does and agrees to rep me, you can start applying the thumbscrews. Joke," he added.
"We'll talk tomorrow," Harper said.
When Shah got home the two uniforms in the lounge were trying to look inconspicuous. Leslyn jerked her thumb at them as she dutifully submitted to a peck on the cheek. "How
long will Cheech and Chong be here?"
"Until the Department's sure there's no one else roaming around with a gun." Shah still felt dislocated, but more and more on the way home that image had stabbed into his brain, of Sunny flinging out his arms as the bullets hit.
Shah's eyepiece chimed. Unknown caller.
"Are you OK? " Aurora said.