OFFICER INVOLVED

by Lynch, Sean

“When I got business to take care of, I take care of it,” Cervantes said.

  “Except you didn’t,” Avery said, “did you? You fucked it up. Just like you and your brother fucked up in San Lorenzo.”

  Avery knew he was taking a big chance. He watched as Cervantes’ eyes blazed and his expression changed from contempt to fury.

  “You must want to die, talking to me like that,” he said.

  “Fuck you,” Avery said, looking at the two men behind Cervantes. He knew from his own gang history he mustn’t show hesitation or fear. “I don’t want to hear your macho bullshit, and I don’t give a fuck how many of your boys you brought to back you up. I came alone. Truth is the truth, whether you like it or not.”

  “You better watch your mouth, pig.”

  Avery suddenly drew both pistols from his coat and held them down at his sides. It caught Cervantes off-guard, but not his back-up. Both men swept open their coats. The taller man was holding the Ingram submachine pistol, and the shorter man a sawed-off, double-barreled shotgun. Avery and Cervantes stood toe-to-toe.

  “You fucked up again, Artie, if you think I’m afraid to die. Your boys may get me, but not before I waste you.” He thumbed back the revolver’s hammer with a loud click. The 9mm pistol’s hammer was already cocked. “Your call.”

  Cervantes kept his eyes on Avery and held up two empty hands. He lowered them slowly, signaling his men to stand down. They complied.

  “I came to talk,” Cervantes said. “Chill out.”

  “You don’t need muscle to talk,” Avery said.

  “I been losing men lately,” Cervantes said. “Lost another one tonight. A good one. I ain’t taking any more chances. Me and Izzy went back all the way.”

  “I’m sorry about your hombre,” Avery said. “If you had done what I told you-”

  “I don’t take orders from you,” Cervantes cut him off again.

  “Your brother did,” Avery said. “We were ruling the streets when you were still spray-painting walls and boosting car stereos.”

  “Bullshit. Back then you was nothing but a road deputy and Gabe was running Hayward and Union City all by himself. Without him, you’d still be writing traffic tickets.”

  “You forget,” Avery said, “Gabriel was only running a crew because I showed him how.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters, is together we made money.”

  “I can make money.”

  “Not if you don’t listen, Artie, and use your head instead of your trigger finger. Gabriel took my advice. That was my end, remember? My job was to run interference. By keeping the heat off, and clipping the competition, the dope and money kept flowing and everybody got rich. Then one day Gabe stopped listening. He fucked up. He made a move on his own, and it cost him. Now you’re doing the same thing. You think it’s going to turn out any different?”

  “I don’t see how you can say Gabe fucked up? It was your boys who started all the shit in the first place.”

  Avery lowered the revolver’s hammer and flicked up the safety on the Browning. He re-pocketed the guns, and when his hands came back out they were holding a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit one for himself and handed the pack to Cervantes, who did the same. Cervantes didn’t offer the pack to his men.

  “I know I fucked up,” Avery said.

  “Nice to finally hear you admit it,” Cervantes said. “It wasn’t me or Gabe brought in Mendenour.”

  “I needed help on my end. We got a new sheriff, and he was cleaning house. Mendenour was plugged in. He had eyes and ears everywhere in the department. He could warn me about things I might miss.”

  “I remember when you told Gabe you were bringing him in,” Cervantes said, blowing smoke. “He wasn’t happy about it.”

  “You’re right, but he was cool with it. He knew there was more than enough profit for everybody. Gabe needed what I brought to the table, and I needed Mendenour to keep it coming.”

  “Except your bitch Mendenour brought in Trask,” Cervantes said.

  “That’s where he fucked up,” Avery said. “Me too. I didn’t realize how far gone Mendenour was, and I didn’t expect him to include anyone else, especially Trask. He was a bigger drunk and gambler than Mendenour, and they both spent way too much time at the Bay Meadows racetrack.”

  “Gabe figured that out when he caught them skimming.”

  “Mendenour was piece of shit,” Avery said. “He deserved what he got.” He withdrew the two bricks of tar heroin and the cash he found in Mendenour’s apartment from his inside coat pockets. “There’s almost twenty-three thousand in cash, plus four times that in black.” He handed the items to Cervantes. “It was hidden in Mendenour’s apartment. Who knows what Trask’s got stashed?”

  “Your fellow deputies are going to find out,” Cervantes said.

  “”Probably,” Avery said. “If you hadn’t blown it tonight, I was going to plant that tar and cash in the rookie’s crib. After you took him out, the homicide investigators would have found it. It would have looked like he was in with Mendenour and Trask, and the investigation would have died right there.”

  “There you go, blaming me again,” Cervantes said. “You forget all this shit came down because you brought in Mendenour?”

  “You’re right,” Avery said. “I own it. I was trying to correct my mistake.”

  “Then why all the fucking tears because we took them out?” Cervantes said.

  “I never said they didn’t have to be taken out,” Avery said. “It wasn’t what you and Gabe did, it’s how you did it.”

  “Killing is killing,” Cervantes said.

  “No it isn’t,” Avery corrected him. “There’s a right way, and a wrong way, to do anything. Luring those two idiots to a kill-house while they were on-duty was about the dumbest thing you and Gabe could have done. A cop-killing is always going to bring down heat, but doing two at the same time? That’s a fucking volcano.”

  “Gabe was pissed off,” Cervantes said. “You told him to wait until the time was right, but he didn’t want to. Those two pricks kept coming around, demanding more. He couldn’t hold off any longer. It was costing too much money.”

  “You should have waited. Now Gabe’s gone, and business-as-usual is over. It’ll be months before we can move again.”

  “Is that all you can think about?” Cervantes said. “Business? My brother and Izzy are fucking dead, and all you want to talk about is business?”

  “It’s always about business,” Avery said, keeping his voice even, despite Cervantes increasingly elevated tone. “That’s the life. Gabe knew that. Didn’t you learn anything from your brother?”

  “We’ll get things running again,” Cervantes said. “There’s always time for business. Right now it’s time for blood.”

  “How the fuck do you think we’re going to get business running again?” Avery asked. “You’re the hottest motherfucker in California.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The rookie recognized you, Artie. By tomorrow afternoon every cop from here to New York is going to know your face. America’s Most Wanted has already been in touch with our detectives. They want to run your profile on the next episode.”

  “I’m going to be a celebrity,” Cervantes chuckled over his shoulder to his two men. “How about that?”

  “You think it’s funny?”

  “No. But I’m going to be laughing when I shoot that rookie motherfucker in the face.”

  “How’s that worked out so far?” Avery said. “That rookie deputy handed you your ass not once, but twice. He was outnumbered and outgunned both times you met him, and he whacked your brother, wasted your pal Izzy, and sent you running for your life with piss flowing down your legs.” Avery tossed his cigarette to the ground, shaking his head. “In case you haven’t noticed, Artie,” he said, “that rookie is out of your league.”

  “I can handle him.”

  “You had your chances,” Avery said. “All you succeeded in doing was shutting down business a
nd making yourself public enemy number one.”

  “What do you expect me to do?” Cervantes said. “Let it slide?”

  “I expect you to use your head for once in your life,” Avery said calmly. “We’ll get the rookie, but it’s got to be done smart. Fly solo again and you’re going to take us all down.”

  “That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it?” Cervantes said. “Going down.”

  “You’re goddamned right that’s what I’m afraid of, you stupid fuck. All you can think about is getting blood for your brother. Maybe you don’t give a damn if you spend the rest of your life in lockdown, but I do. So would your brother if he were here.”

  “I told you before,” Cervantes said. “You’d better watch your mouth.”

  “And you better take your head out of your ass and start using it for something more than smoking angel dust.”

  “I’m getting the rookie,” Cervantes said. “That’s all there is.”

  “That’s not going to be as easy as it sounds,” Avery said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’ve checked into his personnel file. He has military training, and he was a deputy sheriff back in Iowa. On his way to California he put down a serial killer while dodging an F.B.I. manhunt at the same time. Also, before he was sworn in as a deputy in Alameda County, he worked as a private investigator. Last year he tracked and killed a murderer who was gunning for a superior court judge. This particular rookie has skills; something you keep learning the hard way.”

  “I don’t give a fuck who he is,” Cervantes said, “or what he’s done. First chance I get, I’m going to kill him.”

  “Leave him to me.”

  “Fuck you. My brother, my kill.”

  “You don’t even know where to find him.”

  “You’re going to tell me where to find him.”

  “No way,” Avery said.

  “Then tell me where his family is. I’ll bring him to me.”

  “That won’t work,” Avery said. “He doesn’t have any family.”

  Cervantes threw his cigarette to the ground. “Have it your way,” he said. “But you better get it done.” He stepped closer to Avery. “Soon.”

  “That’s why you brought the muscle,” Avery said, thrusting his chin at the two gunmen behind Cervantes. “Isn’t it?”

  “That’s right. I wanted them to get a good look at your face. They’ll know where to find you if I can’t.”

  “You should worry less about the rookie and more about not getting bagged by the cops,” Avery said, ignoring Cervantes’ threat.

  “You wouldn’t want me to get arrested,” Cervantes said, “would you? I might start talking and cut myself a sweet deal with the prosecutor.”

  “So you’re a snitch now?”

  “Snitching on dirty cops ain’t snitching,” Cervantes said, showing his teeth. “All I’d be doing is cleaning up the sheriff’s department.” His grin widened. “Doing my civic duty.”

  “I’ll be in touch,” Avery said, walking away.

  Chapter 28

  “I appreciate the department’s concern for my well-being,” Kearns said, “but I don’t want a security detail.”

  “I don’t care what you want,” Undersheriff Fresco said, with no attempt to conceal his loathing.

  Kearns again found himself in the undersheriff’s office. He’d spent the night in one of Judge Callen’s guest rooms, and when he phoned his watch commander at 9:00 A.M. for his obligatory check-in he was ordered to report to the undersheriff forthwith.

  In light of the fact the undersheriff had only the day before tried to terminate his employment, Judge Callen insisted on accompanying Kearns. Though Kearns told him he didn’t have to, he was silently grateful Callen was coming along. Even if the undersheriff made Callen wait in the lobby as before, the mere presence of the Judge would send a message to Fresco that his conduct was being monitored.

  They took their time getting to the sheriff’s headquarters. Kearns phoned Paige in Napa, where she was staying with her Aunt Elsa, who answered his call. Elsa assured him Paige was all right, and told him that Cody, her Labrador retriever, remembered and missed him. He knew she was merely being polite, but was nonetheless heartened hearing Elsa’s familiar and pleasant voice. She expressed regret that things didn’t work out between him and Paige. She also told him, as Mrs. Murphy had, that he was fine young man and would have no trouble finding feminine companionship. He replied by telling her that was the last thing currently on his mind. Elsa laughed and said, “That’ll change. Mother Nature has a way of seeing to that.”

  Paige came on the line and informed him she’d given his needed documents to Mrs. Murphy next door before heading for Napa. She signed off by reminding him to look out for himself, and not to let her father get into trouble.

  After Kearns hung up, the Judge called Farrell and apprised him of the situation with the undersheriff. Farrell advised he’d be over to pick them up and escort them to the sheriff’s headquarters in Oakland. Kearns tried to tell him to remain at home and spend time with his daughter, but like Judge Callen, he insisted.

  When Farrell arrived, they drove first to Bay Farm Island where Kearns retrieved his credit card and documents from Mrs. Murphy. He also got a hug, and despite his protests, her husband’s .45 revolver.

  Fifteen minutes later they were in the lobby of the undersheriff’s office. Kearns was led in by Lieutenant Pickrell, who didn’t admit Callen or Farrell. “Administrative,” was all he said, confident Callen knew it was enough to exclude Kearns’ legal representation.

  “We’ll be right outside,” the Judge said to Kearns. Farrell gave him a thumbs-up.

  Once Kearns entered he found there were others in the room besides Undersheriff Fresco. Deputy District Attorney Derlinger was present, Sergeant Conley was present also, and another tall, dark-skinned man in a suit he didn’t recognize. No one offered Kearns a seat.

  “Nice of you to dress for the occasion,” Fresco grunted.

  Unlike the suit he’d worn to yesterday’s meeting with the undersheriff, Kearns was clad in a plain white T-shirt, jeans, and boots.

  “Despite your best efforts,” Kearns said, “I’m still on administrative leave. I didn’t realize there was a dress code.”

  Fresco’s dark eyes bored at Kearns. “We’ll see how long you remain on admin leave, Deputy.”

  “I’m prepared to return to my regular duties right now,” Kearns said.

  “I’ll decide when that happens,” Fresco said. “If that happens.”

  “Maybe not ever,” Derlinger said.

  “What can I do for you?” Kearns said, ignoring the deputy D.A.’s comment.

  “As a result of what happened yesterday on Bay Farm Island,” the undersheriff began, “I’ve been forced to take steps to ensure your safety.”

  “I didn’t know you cared.”

  “Keep it up,” Fresco said, leaning forward in his chair.

  “Or what; you’ll fire me?”

  “Take it easy, Deputy,” Sergeant Conley spoke up from the back of the room. “Don’t say anything that’ll provide reason to discipline you for insubordination.”

  “I apologize if my tone sounds insubordinate,” Kearns said. “Almost being murdered twice in two days tends to make me forget my manners.”

  “Which is why I called you in,” the undersheriff said. “As I said, we’ll be taking steps to ensure your safety.”

  “What steps?”

  “I’m assigning you a security detail.”

  “I appreciate your sudden concern for my well-being,” Kearns said, “but I don’t want a security detail.”

  “I don’t care what you want,” Undersheriff Fresco said. “As long as you’re employed as a deputy sheriff, you’re under my authority and will do as you’re told. You’ll have round-the-clock protection, starting today.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter,” Kearns said.

  “You mean other than that deadbeat shamus friend
of yours and that washed up old judge?”

  “They’re a lot better protection than anyone you’ve got,” Kearns said. “And a helluva lot more trustworthy.”

  “That’s your opinion.”

  “That’s a fact.”

  “You don’t have a choice,” Fresco said. “It’s an order.”

  “Isn’t this a violation of my civil liberties?”

  “Not as long as you remain a deputy,” Derlinger answered. “The sheriff’s office’s internal investigation is still ongoing. Given the fact that you’ve been involved in two shootings in two days, we can’t be sure yet what your connection to these events is. The sheriff has to prepare for any contingency.”

  “It’s all perfectly legal,” Undersheriff Fresco said, nodding at Derlinger. “I checked. Run it by Iron Gene if you don’t believe me.”

  “You’re not assigning me a security detail,” Kearns said. “You’re going to have me watched, and pass it off as protection.”

  “I have a right to know what you’re doing,” Fresco said, “since you’re on administrative leave. If the county is paying your salary I have a duty to ensure the county’s money is being spent properly. Of course, my main concern is for your well-being.”

  “Of course,” Kearns said dryly.

  “You don’t like it?” Fresco asked.

  “With all due respect,” Kearns said, “it’s total bullshit.”

  “You could always resign,” Derlinger said.

  “You wouldn’t like that,” Kearns said. “My next job would be media celebrity.”

  Derlinger looked quizzically at the undersheriff, who ignored him and stood up.

  “I know all about your threat to go to the press,” Fresco said. “And what you think it would mean for my job.” His already florid face reddened and he pointed a sausage-like finger at Kearns. “I’ve got news for you, Deputy Kearns; just because you almost got your clock stopped two times in the past twenty-four hours, doesn’t mean you’re out of the woods.”

  “Sir,” Lieutenant Pickrell said, standing up himself. “You may want to calm down and think about what you’re saying-”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Fresco barked at Pickrell, his eyes still riveted on Kearns. The I.A. lieutenant sat back down, rubbing his forehead with a palm in frustration.