by Corey Brown
Russell rubs his chin, looks at Cody. “This would’ve been a real mess if you’d pulled the trigger. What about the Crown Vic? Did you get a license number?”
“Yeah, but I wish I hadn’t.”
“Why not?”
Cody inhales, hesitates, then says, “City tags.”
Russell narrows his eyes. “It’s one of ours, this guy was a cop?
“Not a squad car,” Cody says. “But it was a city vehicle.” Cody looks at the floor, considers the idea, looks up and says, “And, yeah, I think he was a cop.”
“You sure you got the tag right?”
“No question.”
Russell swallows hard. “Oh shit,” he says in a low voice. “This is not good.”
“No kidding. On the other hand, the car should be easy to track down. Mr. Twelve gauge blew out the passenger’s window of his own car. Look, I think cops may be involved in both Nick’s and Julia’s deaths. And our little buddy with the shotgun has pretty much confirmed it.”
“A license plate doesn’t prove anything,” Russell says. “You said a city tag, not PD tag. Why do you think cops are involved?”
“Right now,” Cody says, “It’s just a feeling.”
Weariness settles into Russell’s bones. He wants that glass of scotch and a few moments of solitude with a Punch Rare Corojo, he needs that cigar.
Russell shakes his head slowly. “Cody,” he says. “I know I don’t need to tell you this but, with our reputation, anyone on the force is guilty until crucified. And you’re an even bigger target. The press will be all over this thing. They’ve already gotten wind of Nick and eventually they’ll tie him to Julia. Then you to them. Soon enough, they’ll connect you to the guy with the shotgun, and when that happens….”
“They’ll grind me into dog food,” Cody says, finishing Russell’s sentence.
“Only way out is to wash your hands,” Russell says. “You can start by telling me where things stand.”
Cody draws a sharp breath. “Shit. Nick was engaged to Julia Turano. Julia worked for a doctor, a downtown obstetrician, and he put Nick on to the possibility that there were, or are, vice cops involved in some kind of....thing.”
“Wait. Some doctor pointed Nick toward dirty cops?”
“Yeah, but not like you’d think.”
“Explain.”
Cody shrugs, looks for an out; he does not want to tell Russell about phantom rapes and aborted fetuses.
“I haven’t had the chance to follow up,” Cody says. “I was in this doctor’s office when you sent me to intercept Slater and Hansen at Fletcher’s. After that....”
“Okay,” Russell says. “Tell me, how’d this doctor get involved? What’s his name?”
“I don’t know how he got the information and I can’t tell you his name. I gave him my word that I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“I’m not part of any promise of anonymity. You know that.”
Cody shakes his head slowly. “This guy’s scared shitless. He’s got a family and----”
“It doesn’t work that way,” Russell says, interrupting. “And why am I explaining this to you?” Russell breathes deeply. He is ready for this day to end. He looks at Cody and says, “The next time I ask….”
“Got it,” Cody says, holds his captain’s eye. “Thanks, Russell. You’re doing the right thing.”
Russell turns away, paces to the window, wonders what the hell he is getting into.
“You know,” he says, then looks back at Cody. “They’ll need to talk to Jamie.”
“She was in the car, Russ, that’s all. I was the one who tried to stop the guy. I was the intended target.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Russell says, his eyes locking onto Cody’s. “She’s a material witness, in both cases. But more importantly, we don’t know, for sure, you were the one this guy was after.”
Cody slices the air with his hand and shakes his head. “No way. If I was the target, Jamie’s presence is immaterial and if it was Jamie, she’s going to disappear until this is over.”
“Cody, you can’t do that. Its obstruction.”
“You think I give a shit about that?” Cody says. “You think I give one rat’s ass about obstruction? This is Jamie we’re talking about. What would you do, Russ? Would you hang Denise out there? Let her become a target?”
“I wouldn’t have let Denise go to that apartment.”
“Oh, fuck you, like I had any way of knowing.”
“Fuck me?” Russell says. “You should have known. My God, Cody, your partner is dead, maybe murdered, but you let his fiancée and your wife go back to his apartment? What the hell were you thinking? There is no way they should’ve gotten near that place. Jesus, that’s where the whole investigation starts, and you know it.”
Cody looks away, his anger turning to frustration, giving way to guilt. Russell is right, he screwed up, and he had already told Jamie as much. But for some reason, Cody has only connected his mistake to Jamie and not Julia. Cody’s shoulders drop, his head tips forward slightly.
Russell holds up his hands. “Sorry,” he says, taking a step closer. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant….” Russell sighs. “Goddamnit, I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”
“No, you’re right,” Cody says, shaking his head. “Julia would still be alive if I----”
“Stop right there.” Russell interrupts, pointing at Cody. “Just stop. I didn’t mean what I said. Okay, so you didn’t exercise the best judgment but the asshole who popped Julia is the only one to blame, no one else. You’re not Superman, you don’t have X-ray vision. Don’t do this to yourself.”
Cody’s sits down heavily on the edge of the bed and sighs. “I know, I know, but still…..”
“Fine,” Russell says, folding his big arms across his big chest. “There it is. Julia is dead because of some piece of shit. Maybe you could’ve done something about it. And maybe you couldn’t. Maybe it would’ve been you with a bullet hole in your head. So there it is, Cody. Which is worse, Julia dead or you dead? Wait, don’t answer that, I’ll tell you. Neither is worse because both options are unacceptable. Neither of you should be dead. But what we have to do now is find this asshole. That’s all that is left; we gotta find this son-of-a-bitch and bring him down.”
Cody stares at the floor for a long moment. What had he done? Did he push Julia into the crosshairs? There it was, the weight of Julia’s murder resting on his shoulders. If Cody had done his job correctly, if he’d been thinking straight, maybe no one would have been shot. Maybe.
And which was worse, knowing you dodged a bullet or taking one for someone else? Or not knowing what would have made the difference?
“Russ, I know I’m out of line here,” Cody says. “But I need some latitude on this thing.” He looks up at his captain. “These are really bad people and I have to protect Jamie, but that means two things must happen: Jamie disappears and I stay in the game. That’s the only way I can find them. The reporters can think what they want but I haven’t done anything wrong. So what if they connect the dots? I didn’t start this thing. I didn’t go looking for it. It came to me.” Cody shrugs, says, “Besides, people forget.”
“You really think they’ve forgotten?” Russell says, cocking his head to one side. “It wasn’t that long ago. What’d they call you, the Hit Man?”
“Hey, Internal Affairs cleared me,” Cody says, the sound of protest in his voice. “My neighbors had a big-ass barbeque in my honor. They said I was a hero.”
“You lucked out,” Russell says. “If those Skulls hadn’t been so brutal, it might’ve looked more like an assassination than a rescue. That one reporter, what’s his name, Manchester? That guy said he knew what you were all about, said he was certain you would’ve dusted those gang-bangers, no matter what. Claims you hunted them down like animals. He wanted someone to look into it.”
“They were animals,” Cody says, getting to his feet. “And weasel-dick Manchester didn’t see those poor kids. He didn�
�t have to help them with their clothes or tell their parents what hospital to go to because a bunch of worthless shit-bags raped their kids for two days.”
Cody is shaking, his anger becoming visible. “Manchester,” he says. “Didn’t get his face slapped by Mrs. Tate because he didn’t get there in time. It wasn’t Manchester’s daughter I didn’t find soon enough, it wasn’t his little girl taking it up the----” Cody bites the word off. He looks away, his expression a mixture of frustration and regret. “Fuck Manchester, he can piss up a rope for all I care.”
Cody swallows, inhales, his nostrils flare. He swallows again, tries to calm down then says, “I heard someone handcuffed those guys with Internal Affairs, someone held them back. Know anything about that?”
Russell narrows his eyes. “You send Nick Wheaton for backup then go in by yourself. What are you, the goddamned Lone Ranger? You ought to be dead.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m not. So how about it, Tonto? Know anything about the Internal Affairs investigation?”
“You’re so full of yourself, you know that?” Russell says. He waves a dismissive hand in the air. “I knew you saved two lives that day. Maybe I suggested that to the Major, maybe he informed IAD that Manchester was talking out his blow hole. Maybe those Skulls needed killing but that’s not the point. You think people forget? Maybe some do, but not the press, not Dateline, not Fox and not the Times-Picayune. And Manchester? He gets paid to remember. When he gets a hold of this, the first thing he’ll do is remember. And it’ll be on page one.”
Silence settles in between the two men. Cody rubs his neck then palms his forehead. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. When Cody speaks, he does not look at Russell.
“Look, I’m forty-four years old,” Cody says, his voice is quiet, almost a whisper. “I made my twenty last October. I don’t give a shit about Manchester or anybody else. All I care about is Jamie. She’s the only one who matters. If this thing crashes my career, so be it. I’ll get another job, I can do something else. But right now I have to protect my wife.”
He looks at Russell, looks hard.
“No one interviews her,” Cody says. “Not one person will talk to her. She is not part of this and if I have to I will take her to some other part of the world, she will disappear. That being said, I won’t just roll over. I can’t let someone else chase this down.” Cody closes his eyes, draws a breath and says, “Don’t bench me, Russ.”
Russell glances at Cody, shifts his weight, then looks out the window. The sun is low and soon darkness will begin its offensive. He feels a kind of darkness inside, like an approaching storm, visible on the horizon.
“Goddamnit,” Russell says, through clenched teeth. “I don’t need this. What I need is a glass of Chivas and a cigar. Do you know how hard it is to get a Punch Rare? Now, that’s a cigar. A friend of mine sent me fifteen for my kid’s college graduation. A glass of eighteen year-old scotch and a smooth cigar, that’s what I need. Not this shit. I’m too old for it. I cannot believe I’m even thinking this let alone saying it.” Russell pauses, sighs and says, “But I’ll do what I can. Jamie is off the hook for the moment. I’ll run as much interference as I can, but I won’t screw myself over this thing. I’m not making any promises, but if I can keep you in, I will. Otherwise….”
Cody looks at Russell for a second then drops his eyes. “Thanks, Captain.”
The door swings open and Doctor Robiere steps into the room, the look on her face is all business. Out in the hall, just beyond doctor Robiere is Doctor Harris. He makes no move to join the trio, instead choosing to keep his distance.
“Okay, gentlemen,” Robiere says, her arms folded tightly across her chest. “I understand you guys are cops and you have to do your jobs. But this is my hospital and I have my own job to do. Now, Doctor Harris needs to examine his patient. Captain Laroche, please excuse us.” Robiere sweeps her hand toward the hallway. “You can have a seat in the waiting room. If Detective Briggs wishes, Doctor Harris will let you know when he’s finished.”
Joyce Robiere is tall for a woman and pretty, in a rugged, worked-too-many-hours kind of way. Brunette hair curls off her shoulders, the posture is distinctly feminine but there is an imposing sense about Robiere. Not intimidating, not pushy, but definitely commanding.
Russell shakes his head, says, “Detective Briggs and I aren’t finished.”
“Yes, you are for the moment” Robiere says. “Doctor Harris won’t be long.”
“It’s okay, Captain,” Cody offers, the look in his eye communicating something more than words. “I think we covered most of it.”
Russell holds Cody’s gaze for a few seconds then says, “We talk tomorrow, first thing.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks for everything, Captain.”
Russell starts for the door but a step later his eyes meet Doctor Harris’s. And Russell sees something, an odd expression. He pauses then turns to look at Cody. Russell raises his eyebrows and imperceptibly tips his head in Harris’ direction. Quietly, Cody draws a breath, closes his eyes for a moment then, just as imperceptibly, nods, affirming Harris as the one who had raised Nick Wheaton’s suspicions.
Russell glances at both doctors one last time then steps past them, disappearing down the hall.
Doctor Robiere waits a beat before turning to follow Russell Laroche. Doctor Harris catches her by the arm and whispers, “Nice job. You handled it well.”
Robiere exhales short and hard. Then, under her breath, she says, “Thanks. I didn’t know what I was going to do if he refused to leave.”
Harris smiles crookedly. “You’re on your way, kid.”
Cody stands on the far side of the room. Next to a bank of monitoring equipment, a polished steel frame bed occupies the center space. To one side, a privacy curtain hangs, lifeless, partially drawn. Opposite the bed, a television is mounted to the wall.
As soon as they are alone, Harris closes the gap between them, moving closer to Cody.
“What happened?” Harris says. “How did you get hurt?”
Cody closes his eyes and rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry to bother you with this, Glen.”
Harris stops, looks at Cody. Dropping the title, using first names, that means something.
“Forget it,” Harris says. “Tell me what’s happening.”
“Not important, that’s not why I wanted you to come here.”
“What then?” Harris looks puzzled.
“Listen.” Cody pauses, sighs and shakes his head. “Julia is...she’s dead.”
A warm sick feeling floods Harris’s body, Cody can see the color drain from his face.
“Oh God,” Harris says. “How did…what happened?”
“You’ll read about it in the paper. The less you hear from me, the better. From now on, you and I cannot be seen together. More importantly, our conversation earlier today, even this meeting, never happened. Do you understand? You saw me when I came to visit Julia at your office but we never spoke. You came here to treat someone else. Okay?”
“I...I don’t understand.”
“Glen, this is bigger than I imagined,” Cody says. “There’s a lot of bad shit happening with more to come. It’s best if you don’t understand.”
“But why didn’t you tell me this on the phone?” Harris says. “Why bring me here?”
“At this point, I have no idea who’s behind all of this or how much they know. Your phone might not be secure, you could be under surveillance. I just don’t know.”
Harris feels his stomach start to curdle. It was as though, in the course of one day, his whole life was no longer his own, as if it were spinning out of his control. Harris looks at Cody, his eyes pleading for some kind of answer.
“But if my phone is tapped,” Harris says. “Won’t they know why I’m here?”
“Yeah, but it was a chance I had to take. I had to warn you.”
“What about my family?” Harris says, trying to control the tremor in his voice. “Are they safe?”
Cody
swallows. “Look, so far the only people that have been hurt are the ones who knew something or saw something. I think your family will be okay, as long as you and I keep our distance.” Cody looks intently at Harris. “But I don’t know where all this will lead. If you can, you might want to think about a vacation or something. At least until we see how everything shakes out.”
Harris’s eyes moist over as thoughts of his daughters flash through his mind, first his oldest girl, then her younger sister. In his imagination they are smiling and happy. He can’t bear the thought of their suffering or, worse, losing them. Harris presses his fingers into the corners of his eyes, trying to stem the tears.
“I know this is tough, Glen,” Cody says. “But I won’t lie to you. I won’t tell you that we can protect you completely. We can’t. If someone wants you, they’ll have you.”
“What’re you saying? That someone will try to kill me?”
“No. If need be, police officers will be assigned to protect you. But the truth of the matter is if someone is serious enough, they will get to you. One way or another. That’s why you might want to think about a vacation. You might want to think about leaving town.”
“But my patients,” Harris says. “What about them?”
Cody shrugs. “What’s more important, your family or your practice?” Cody shakes his head, holds his hands up and says, “Wait, we aren’t there yet. I don’t know who is behind all of this or what they know or what they want. I’m just saying be ready, have an exit plan. That’s all.”
Harris nods. “Okay. Maybe I can send the girls away to----”
Cody waves Harris off and says, “Don’t say another word. The less I know the better.”
Harris looks away, wonders how he got dragged into this mess, wonders what to do. The maelstrom brewing in his heart forces Harris to search for a safe harbor; blindly he hopes this New Orleans policeman can throw him a lifeline. But even as he asks, Doctor Harris knows his question reflects desperation.