“Yeah, except you have to die for them to get it. You ever watched someone die, Vic? It’s not real pretty.”
Vic turned and looked at him, “Hey. Relax. I’m just making conversation here. No need to get excited.”
“Yeah, well I’m about to piss all over the seat.”
Vic picked up the empty coffee cup from the cup holder and said, “This is what real cops do. We improvise, adapt, and overcome. Remember?” Vic unzipped his fly and leaned up to lower himself into the cup. “Rule One of surveillance, never throw out your empty coffee cups. Hey, what are you, a fag? Don’t look.”
“Are you serious? Don’t do that.”
Vic held the cup at a forty-five degree angle and started peeing into it carefully so that he didn’t spill any. The cup filled to the brim and he said, “Christ! I hate this part!” He grunted and stopped peeing to empty the cup out of the window, then put it back under his lap and resumed. “Phew! Almost thought I wouldn’t make it.”
“You are disgusting,” Frank said.
“I told you not to look.”
“It smells like piss in here now. Can you at least get rid of the cup?”
“No way. That’s the piss cup now. Your turn.”
“Forget it,” Frank said.
“When you’re on a stakeout, you can’t just call a timeout to run back to the station and pee. Be a man and piss in the cup.”
“I don’t have to go anymore,” he said.
“It went away?” Vic said.
“No, it didn’t go away,” Frank mumbled. “I can’t pee in the cup. I’m pee shy.”
“Pee shy?” Vic said. “What does that mean? You can’t go?”
“Not if someone is near me. Not even if they talk to me.”
“What if I just look out the window?”
“It won’t work,” Frank said. “Can we please just go back to the station?”
“Look!” Vic said. He pointed over the dashboard at a man wearing a bathrobe who emerged from the house’s front door and put a bag of trash into a trashcan on the porch. “That’s Billy Helen.” They watched him go back inside. “You ready to go in?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Jesus. You are like working with a two year old,” Vic said. “Jump in the backseat and turn your back to me. I won’t say anything. Will that work?”
“I’ll try it.” Frank climbed into the back of the car and knelt on the back seat, facing the rear window. The neighborhood was a glorified trailer park, busy with people walking in and out of their houses who weren’t burdened by working a day job. Frank ducked low in the seat and unzipped his pants. He sighed with relief as water started hitting the bottom of his cup immediately.
“Hey, Frank?”
The sound stopped. Frank groaned and said, “God damn you, Vic! Shut the hell up!”
“Sorry, buddy. Just wanted to say I’m proud of you, and to keep up the good work.”
“So help me God, Vic, I will dump this cup on your seat.”
“Ok. I’ll be quiet. Honest. Starting now. Being quiet, here. Right now.”
“SHUT UP!”
* * *
They parked the car down the street and hurried across the lawn. Vic dropped a large toolbox under a tree and both men pulled their weapons, keeping them low to ground but ready if they needed to fire. “Sixty seconds, right?” Frank whispered.
“What?”
“For the knock and announce. You have to knock and state your purpose for being there, and if there’s no answer, we can go in after sixty seconds.”
Vic scowled at him and said, “Just watch my back, rookie.”
Frank took the corner of the house by the porch, keeping a low crouch, while Vic crept up the front steps. He bladed himself to the side of the door and knocked gently on the screen, keeping his back against the wall and staying out of view.
Vic smashed against the door with his fist several times, hammering it loud enough that a neighbor across the street peered through the window. Frank held up the badge around his neck and pressed his finger to his lips, waving for the person to go back inside. “Put that away,” Vic hissed.
“Who the hell’s banging on my door like that?” a male voice said from within.
“UPS,” Vic shouted through the door. “Package for Mr. Helen.”
The door opened and Billy Helen stepped onto the porch, scratching his behind and yawning until Vic stuck the barrel of his gun against Billy’s forehead. “Move and you’re dead.”
He grabbed Billy by the collar and yanked him away from the door, sticking his gun under Billy’s nose, using it to lift his whole head. “Keep your voice down. Who’s in there?”
“Nobody,” Billy said.
“Where’s your wife and kid?”
“Come on, man, they don’t have shit to do with this! Leave them out of it. Please, for God’s sake, I’m begging you, just take everything you want and go.”
“What’s everything?” Vic said.
“All of it. I’ve got two ounces of coke under the sink, a quap of weed, and a whole script of Percocet. It’s all yours if you take it and go before they get home. I’ll show you where it all is.”
“The coke’s under the sink?”
“Right,” Billy said.
“Where’s the rest of it?”
“The weed is in a shoebox on top of my closet and the Percocet is inside a baggie in my pillowcase. Listen, I’m being straight up with you. I’ll even get it for you. Just don’t hurt my family.”
“How about the money?” Vic said. “Where’s that?”
Billy’s eyes teared up and he said, “Come on, man. That’s not my money. It’s Paris’s. If you take that, I’m a dead man.”
Vic shrugged and said, “Have it your way.”
“Christ,” Helen muttered. “It’s under the dryer. Laid out in the tray.”
Vic nodded and said, “You did good, Billy.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded search warrant. “This is for you,” he said. Vic tucked the gun back in his holster and said, “Frank, keep Mr. Helen on the porch while I go search the premises.”
Billy opened up the warrant and said, “You guys are cops? Jesus Christ! I thought you were gonna shoot me, you son of a bitch!”
“If you don’t stay out on this porch while I get everything that’s listed on that warrant, or attempt to interfere in any way, I will.”
Billy grabbed Vic by the arm, “You can’t take that money. Paris will kill me.”
“Paris who?”
Billy’s eyes narrowed, “You don’t even know Paris?” He watched Frank come up the porch steps and smirked, “You guys are just rent-a-cops, aren’t you? I want to talk to my attorney.”
“No problem,” Vic said. “Go find a payphone.”
Billy reached into his pocket and said, “Believe it or not, there’s this new technology called cellphones.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and waved it in front of Vic’s face. “I realize you guys haven’t caught up to the rest of the world out here in Mayberry.”
Vic looked at the phone and said, “Is that the Verizon phone that ends in 6642?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s listed on the warrant,” Vic said. “Give me that.” He took Billy’s cellphone and dropped it into his pocket. “You’re free to go. The house belongs to us until we’re done the search.”
Billy looked at them in confusion. “Free to go? Aren’t you going to arrest me?”
“Nope,” Vic said. “You can stay on the porch here or go wherever you want. Just not inside till we’re done.” He retrieved his toolbox and opened it on the porch, removing a camera and a stack of paper bags. “You’ll get a receipt for anything we take.”
“You guys have to arrest me,” Billy said. “This isn’t funny. Put me in handcuffs.” He held out his hands toward Frank and said, “Please.”
Frank cocked his head for Vic to meet with him at the end of the porch. They kept a careful eye on Billy, who was now burying his fa
ce into his fist. “We are gonna arrest this guy, right?”
“Not necessarily,” Vic said.
“Why? He’s a drug dealer. He’s got drugs. We arrest drug dealers. I thought that was the whole point.”
“Frankie, my boy, we’re not gonna run down this hill. We’re gonna walk down, and screw ‘em all.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Let me guess. You never saw Colors, either, did you?”
“No!” Frank said.
Billy’s head popped up and he said, “It’s that scene with Sean Penn and Robert Duvall. Sean Penn’s this young punk who wants to just beat the shit out of everybody and lock up every gangster he sees. Bobby D.’s this old head who tells him they’re gonna go slow and take out everybody at once when the time is right.”
“See?” Vic said. “Even this guy saw the movie.”
“It’s a classic,” Billy said. “Is that what you’re doing to me? Waiting so you can take me out with everybody else?”
“If you live that long, maybe,” Vic said. Vic flashed a smile at Billy as he went into the front door and lifted his camera, snapping photos with every step.
“You have to convince him to arrest me,” Billy said. “There is no way Paris will believe you took all my shit and all my money and didn’t lock me up. He’s going to think I ratted him out, and cut me into tiny little pieces with a chainsaw.”
“Nothing I can do,” Frank said.
“Paris will kill my family,” Billy said. “He’s not some local yokel you guys are used to. He’s got connections all the way from New York to Florida.”
“Why don’t you start by telling me who he is, and I’ll see what I can do,” Frank said.
“Yeah, right,” Billy sniffed. He jabbed his thumb against his chest, “I’m into the game so much higher up than you, it’s pathetic. I’m at, like, the federal level. Get me the FBI. I’ll talk to them.”
“I wouldn’t know how to reach them if I wanted to,” Frank said.
“You guys are a joke,” Billy said. “I’ll get full immunity and witness protection. You watch. I’ll be laughing at you douchebags when you’re out here shoveling snow and the US Marshals are paying for my condo in San Jose.”
Frank ignored Billy long enough that he stopped talking and the two of them watched through the porch windows as Vic walked around the house. Vic finally emerged carrying a handful of paper bags. “Does your wife use?” Vic said.
Billy’s back stiffened. “Never.”
“Good. She won’t miss the bundle of heroin and works I found in her nightstand, then.”
“Shit!” Billy said. He smacked himself in the head with both fists and paced back and forth on the porch. “Can’t you at least leave her a little so she doesn’t get sick?”
“No,” Vic said.
“How’s she going to take care of our daughter if she’s going through withdrawal?”
“Look on the bright side,” Frank said. “When that guy Paris finds out, you won’t have to worry about either of them for much longer.”
Both Vic and Billy turned to look at Frank. Neither of them spoke.
“What?” Frank said. “It was a joke.”
“Dude, that’s not funny,” Billy said.
“That was pretty dark,” Vic said.
“Oh stop it. I was just kidding!”
“About my wife and daughter getting murdered?”
“Well… you were the one who said it first,” Frank said.
“Just get the bags,” Vic said. He watched Frank scoop up the bags in his arms and start trekking them back to the car. “How serious of a threat is this Paris guy?”
“Pretty goddamn disturbingly serious,” Billy said. “I’ve been with him when he shot people before.”
“No shit?” Vic said. “Around here?”
“Hell no, not around here. Nobody shoots anybody around here except you guys when it’s some kid just trying to steal jewelry.”
Frank stiffened at the comment, but Vic drew Billy’s attention by reaching into his wallet and pulling out a business card. “If you decide you want me to help you, get a hold of me. The station is right up the street. Doesn’t matter what time of day it is.”
Billy took the card and looked at it. “Thanks, but I’m going to call the FBI.”
“Not without a phone you aren’t,” Vic said. He handed him the search warrant receipt. “Sign on the bottom.”
Billy started reading the receipt and said, “I’m not signing this. It’s a confession that you found drugs in my house!”
“I already found the drugs, dummy. I don’t need a confession. It’s just a receipt for what I’m taking.”
“I’m not signing shit without my lawyer.”
“Fine. Have it your way,” Vic said. He folded up the receipt and stuck it in his pocket. “I’d tell you to take care, but really, what I mean to say is ‘Enjoy the next forty-eight hours, because you probably don’t have much more than that.’ The next time I see you, you’ll probably look a little different, Billy. Have fun with Paris.”
Frank watched the Detective storm across the lawn and said, “Tell me that wasn’t dark.”
“Shut up and get in the car, rookie,” Vic said.
“I’m not a rookie,” Frank said.
“You’re a rookie until I say otherwise. Did you watch ‘Colors’ yet?”
“I’ve been standing here with you for the past hour. How the hell could I have watched a movie?”
Vic put the car into drive. “Typical rookies,” he said. “Always making excuses.”
* * *
They carried the evidence into the station and tried to hurry past the Staff Sergeant’s open office door when Erinnyes bellowed, “There you are!”
Frank stopped and turned to see Erinnyes sitting at his desk, smiling. There was a bit of food on his second chin as he folded his hands on the desk and waited for Frank to salute. Frank shifted the bags under his left arm and saluted.
Erinnyes saluted back and said, “I need you to suit up right away. Someone has to cover the school crossing. The crossing guard is sick.”
“I can’t,” Frank said. “We just got all this evidence and are waiting for the bad guy to come in for an interview. Can’t the guys on the street do it?”
“I need them available to answer calls,” Erinnyes said.
“Don’t we have people around the station that are available if a call comes out?” Frank said.
“You mean, like me?” Erinnyes said. “And what happens if I start to do that? Then the Chief can handle my responsibilities? Or is he supposed to drop what he’s doing and go answer calls as well? Do I all of a sudden exist just to keep you from having to do any police work?”
Frank held up the evidence bags and said, “I guess this isn’t police work?”
“It can wait,” Erinnyes said. “Unlike the school crossing.”
Frank bit his lip and turned to get out of the office before a flood of expletives erupted from him. As he left he heard Erinnyes say, “Better get there quick, patrolman. You don’t want to be late.”
6
Frank heard a car screeching around the corner and put his hands up to keep the mother and group of kids on the sidewalk. His eyes widened as Vic’s unmarked police car came to a sudden halt at the stop sign. Vic jumped out of his car and shouted, “What the hell are you doing?”
Frank blew his whistle in Vic’s face as loud as he could to silence him and shouted, “I’m trying to cross these children without some maniac running them over!”
“We’re in the middle of a huge drug bust and you’re screwing around with this bullshit?”
One of the mothers shot a glance at Vic. Frank shook his head and said, “I don’t know this person, ma’am. I apologize for his offensive conduct, though.”
“You didn’t even tell me you were heading out here!”
Frank ripped off his hat and threw it on the ground like a baseball coach. “Just because you don’t have to play by
the rules that everyone else does, doesn’t mean I don’t! I like working with you, Vic. I really do, but when push comes to shove, I’m going to be back on the street and if I don’t want to have a miserable existence, I need to keep the Staff Sergeant happy, the Chief happy, and whatever else it takes.”
“That guy Paris’s for real,” Vic said. “I called Dez Dolos. He runs the FBI drug taskforce. They think Billy is in real trouble.”
“Know what I think?” Frank said. “I think you need to move your car so I can cross these kids.”
* * *
Vic Ajax walked into the Staff Sergeant’s office without knocking. He did not salute. He put both hands on the edge of Erinnyes’s desk and said, “I need Frank to be exclusive to me until further notice. We’re working on something important.”
Erinnyes’s eyes twinkled with delight at the opportunity to deny the request. “I’m afraid that just isn’t possible right now, Detective.”
“Oh, it’s possible,” Vic said. “I wasn’t asking your permission. I was just giving you advance notice. I’m going to talk to the Old Man right now.”
Erinnyes leaned back in his chair and ran the palm of his hand over his bald head. “Do you know why a permanent Detective position was never created in this police department, Victor? It’s because there never has, and never will be, any need for a full-time investigator here. Let alone two. I told the Chief that when you insisted on taking a raw Academy recruit and thrusting her into undercover work. I told him what would happen.”
“Leave her out of this,” Vic snapped.
The Staff Sergeant reached into his desk drawer and slapped a packet of brand new traffic citations on his desk. “Do you know what that is, Victor? It’s your future. I keep them in my desk set aside specifically for you. I suppose you have nothing to fear as long as Midas is here to protect you, but always remember, that is your fate. It waits patiently.”
Vic left the office without responding and walked down the hall to the Chief’s office. The door was closed but he heard the Chief speaking. Vic knocked gently. “Come in,” the Chief said. The Old Man was sitting at his desk talking on the phone. He covered the mouthpiece and told Vic to close the door behind him. “Right. Well, I don’t want to come down there and have nothing to look at. Two-bedrooms, minimum. Nothing in tornado country, either.”
Superbia s-1 Page 5