Lassiter, spoke up again, “How about Hernandez, and I go out to Rosemead. Cesar made the connections with the church out there, and I lived there a couple of years. We might have an advantage.”
“Sounds good...” Carly found himself interrupted by a commotion at the doorway. Everyone turned to see Inspector Edwards striding in the room, a broad grin on her face. Trailing her was Chief Michaels, Deputy Chief Chapman and the District Attorney. Behind them was Sully, an even broader grin on his face and he lightly juggled the two drives back and forth in his meaty little hands.
Quickly the squad jumped to attention, nervous by the presence of such high-powered brass. “Easy folks,” Diane said lightly. “The Chief here has done a review of the files, the one Professor Thompson brought in from Las Vegas, and the one we made last night during the Oona Erickson interview. He felt he should address the squad regarding our progress on the case.”
Obviously uncomfortable, the Chief stood ramrod stiff as if supported by a board, clearing his throat as if to make a speech he ended up almost mumbling in garbled tones, “In review of the evidence, it's obvious that Professor Thompson can continue to make a contribution to our team here.” Nodding in Diane's direction, “Obviously the Inspector has been leading our team in the right direction. The progress has been of such substantial merit than I feel comfortable in utilizing Deputy Chief Chapman on other pressing duties coming out of my office at this time.”
He turned too hurriedly and bumped into Chapman, sending the tall slender man back a few steps. Recovering the two men made it to the door quickly but not so fast as to miss the 'putz' comment from the back of the squad room. Pretending not to hear, they strode hurriedly through the main office, leaving Lassiter to be admired by her peers for her ability to sum up the situation so succinctly. The District Attorney smiled at Diane, turned sharply and trotted off after the disappearing Chief.
The last words heard, were the DA calling out, “Chief if I could have another word…”.
Suppressing smiles and laughter, Diane filled the squad in on the events of the meeting with the Chief. “He was aghast, when he saw the Hasan file. Even more so when I told him Carly brought it in. He almost started in on me about Carly when Sully opened the Oona interview video. From there on it was silence. I suggested he pull Chapman, let me keep using Carly, and let us alone to do our job. The DA was completely supportive. I think there will be trouble in paradise, at least at the head honcho level.”
“Sounds like a plan, Inspector,” Lassiter choked out with a laugh and a spray of coffee to everyone’s amusement.
“Easy folks, we have only gotten past a minor hurdle here, the bad guy is still out there,” Diane reminded them. While they had gotten a big break and there was relief in knowing what they were up against, it was not the time to relax. “Speaking of plans, what have you people lined out?”
The detectives filled her in on the assignments, but Hernandez voiced a concern felt by the group. “It doesn't seem enough. An ABP and a trip to Rosemead just doesn't seem to be enough, we need something bold, if you know what I mean.”
“I do know what you mean, Detective,” Diane spoke solemnly, staring the man in the eyes, “I have a plan for tonight. It's Thursday. He starts to prowl soon and we're going to be ready.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I had it planned already, after the last murder,” she paused with the difficulty of the words, but in a low voice finished the sentence, “Le's death”. She shook her head as she told the squad her plan wasn’t entirely new, “I had thought of this before but Chapman had nixed the idea.”
“The next 'Station' is Veronica. That's a single victim, if he follows his pattern from Denver. At the same time, if he stays with his pattern for Los Angeles, he'll pick up a hooker or an exotic dancer tonight or early tomorrow morning. We're going to set up decoys in the general vicinity of where he's been operating. We've got seventeen detectives who are posing as hookers and club sluts tonight. They're going to appear to be alone, just working girls trying to make ends meet, doing solo trips on the pavement. Each undercover detective will have a two man support team in a vehicle nearby. Everybody will be on coms and all the support teams will be in constant radio communication and centralized under one mobile unit. We're going to spread out in a twenty-block radius where many of the girls disappeared. The recent spate of killings has slowed down the sex-trade traffic considerably so the girls still out on the street will be fairly conspicuous.”
“What can I do?” Carly asked, feeling left out.
Knowing Carly had come too far, having risked his reputation, sanity, and even his life on a case he should not have had any allegiance to, but did, Diane knew he deserved not to be left out in the vital stages.
With a warm smile, Diane gave the professor the good news, “I've arranged through the District Attorney's office for you to be on special retainer out of that office. The Chief is out of the loop on this one. When he cut you off at the knees during the press conference he cut his own professional throat once you discovered Dombrowski was back in the picture. He doesn't know it yet, but he'll be taking an early retirement. If he doesn't go quietly, he'll be the laughing stock of Los Angeles, as the D.A. plans on a public competency hearing if he doesn't step aside quietly. The mayor is quietly accepting of this since it is likely the D.A. could be the next governor.”
“Thus for you, Professor Thompson, you will be going out on one of the support teams as an observer for the District Attorney's office. After all you're the only person here that has actually seen Dombrowski. No matter what miracles of plastic surgery and Merriwhether wrought, there still has to be some resemblance. An eyewitness I.D. can only prove to be useful when we catch dear sweet Jonathan.”
Feeling that old spike of adrenaline, Carly could hardly contain his excitement. Had they not been in front of the entire squad, he might have hugged her, instead he let out an uncharacteristically whoop of joy.
“Yeehaw! When do we go out?”
Sully laughing at the sight of the string bean of a man, leaping out of his chair, put out a steadying hand to Carly, “Easy cowboy, it's been awhile for you. We've got a lot of work to do before anybody steps out on the street.”
“Especially you, Professor,” Lassiter said with a wicked grin. “I hear you're a candidate for decoy back-up in case one of the others gets sick.... providing of course we can find fishnet stockings in a forty-four inch inseam.”
“An exciting prospect, almost as desirable as seeing you in fishnets, Lassiter,” Hernandez quipped. Within minutes the squad had degenerated in a myriad of raunchy comments, snide humor, and uncontrollable laughter. Diane Edwards stood to the side of the room and let them go this time. She stood to the side of the room sipping coffee and relishing the scene. After months of seeing these detectives despair over the anguish of uncontrolled murder on their watch, she knew they needed the release the day's banter provided and she let them have it. It felt good and for the first time in days she was not thinking about her sister.
Slowly the uproar subsided and Sully took charge, laying out assignments for each member of the squad. Each detective was to be in the street as part of one support team and as the command for a second team. Sully was to stay in one vehicle monitoring the overall communication between the teams. It was decided that Hernandez would use the communication van for his support vehicle, with Carly riding shotgun with him. Sully would ride in the back maintaining the equipment. A second support team covering another decoy, would be within their designated zone directly under Hernandez' command. As they mapped out strategy, assigned decoys, and readied the extensive electronics they would use, the time passed without notice.
“It's 5:00 P.M.” someone called out to the squad.
Sully barked out an order, “Let's get ready and grab a bite to eat. We're putting the teams out on the street by 7:00 P.M., so we get a jump on nightfall. So far every victim has disappeared after sunset, excluding the 'observer' victi
ms in the 'Mother' scenario, and the one in which the Inspector's sister was killed. Those victims were snatched earlier and then stashed at the murder site. We figure that if we've got all the girls out on the street by seven o'clock tonight, we'll have as good chance of catching him as any. We'll stay with it ‘til just after sun up. If we don't get him tonight, we'll do the same tomorrow, and the next night. We'll quit on Sunday and re-start the following Thursday. The D.A.'s office got the mayor to agree to this for a month without let up, unless of course our boy changes his method of operations drastically, like a move to another area of town, or a different type of victim.”
The only sound in the squad room was pencils scratching out notes. No one was about to miss any of the details Sully was outlining. “So let's break until six o'clock, then we're back. Eat light and no booze. We want clear heads out there tonight. While we’re out the decoys will be coming in to dress. Please try to have a little sense of professional decorum when we come back. Remember these are your professional colleagues doing a dirty job, let's try to keep the catcalls and wisecracks down to a minimum. Okay?”
Diane left Carly in Sully's hands, indicating she had some administrative duties to attend to. Sully and Hernandez grabbed Carly by the elbows and whisk him out of the office.
“Come on amigo,” Hernandez said. “You're buying supper. You consultants with the D.A.'s office make the big bucks, a lot more than us working stiffs.”
Dinner consisted of greasy burgers at the local precinct hangout. Both Sully and Hernandez marveled at the gastronomical ability of their host as he devoured two double burgers and a plate of fries, plus the remains of Hernandez' onion rings.
“Good Lord, Professor it's a good thing you got into the D.A.'s office. You need the money just to feed yourself. Where do you put it all...a hollow leg?”
Sully looked at Hernandez, adding sardonically, “Let's head back Cesar, before he wants dessert.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Carly bellyached. “I've been passed from pillar to post in the last few days, and meals haven't been the priority. Hell, I was hungry.”
In a doleful lament, Hernandez minced out, “Next thing you know he will tell us he is a growing boy!”
“I hope not,” Sully added, “he grows anymore and I will need a bullhorn to talk to him.”
By the time they had were back, Sully and Hernandez had gone through a number of King Kong, Godzilla, and Wilt the Stilt jokes. Carly should have been irritated but he realized the banter was a sure sign he had been accepted as just one of the guys. Although every joke was at his expense, he could not have been more pleased.
At the station, the bustle in the squad room was electrifying. To an officer, Carly could sense the excitement and edge each of them felt. The motion was endless and busy. Everywhere he looked, detectives were checking radios and weapons, setting up provisions for a long night's stakeout. He felt the atmosphere and reveled in his part in the operation. The quiet of the classroom and boring meetings with Dean Caldwell seemed as if part of another world, another life.
Sully filled Carly in on the final details of the operation, particularly within the communications van.
“We've got an old battered van set up with all the communication equipment so we can monitor our decoy and stay in contact with all the other teams. Pretty good set up, all in all,” Sully explained. “Good observational perspectives with the big tinted windshield and rear tinted windows. Additionally, the police engineers cut some small fish-eye peep-holes in both sides, so the occupants have a three hundred and sixty-degree view.” The diminutive detective, please at having such an earnest audience explained, despite the appearance of a dying vehicle, it was in tiptop running shape, quite able to hold its own against the fastest patrol car.
“I've picked up some sandwiches from the commissary, after all if we go more than a couple of hours we're going to have to feed him,” Hernandez grinned in the direction of Carly. “Plus I've a couple of thermos' of coffee and of course the obligatory coffee cans all set up.”
Carly frowned at the thought of the coffee cans. He hated peeing in those things. With his height, he always found himself hunched up trying to relieve himself but never able to completely drain his bladder, while always able to splash himself with his own urine. He smiled at the memory of kicking over a nearly full can in Dave's car back in Denver. It had been his first extended lesson in the art of cussing in Spanish. Poor Dave, the smell never came out and eventually Carly had to replace the carpet for his friend but it took all the fun out of his friend's new car.
As the hour neared for the stakeout, Carly was disappointed that he couldn't find Diane to say good-bye before he took off. He assumed that before the squad dispensed she would have led the briefing instructions, but his guess proved erroneous as Sully called the squad to order.
“Okay folks,” Sully yelled trying to be heard over the hubbub of the active room. “Front and center folks. We've got to do a run through of tonight's plan. So listen up.”
“First off, everybody got your briefing kit?” referring to the blue folder Carly had been given when Sully had first led him into the room.
“Okay, first item, is a picture of the suspect. We also have it on your phones by now. We got it from the source we interrogated last night,” he explained, not mentioning Oona by name. “He goes by the name Jonathan Carter. As you can see he's short, but a pretty heavy hitter at nearly 190 pounds. Blond hair, blue eyes. He’s been known to wear a brown wig, but don’t count on it. He's dangerous folk. Strong and as vicious a killer as we've ever tracked. All of you who've been at the last few murder scenes can attest to that.”
Several heads nodded about the room, veterans in the ways of Petr Dombrowski, although most of them didn’t know him by name. Diane and the D.A.'s office decided that Dombrowski wouldn't be brought into the picture until he was captured. They didn't want the news filling the heads of the people with all sorts of speculations and horror stories. The truth was unbelievable as it was, let alone adding a media spin to it. The potential of a leak was just too great. Other than Diane's crew, Chief Michaels, and Deputy Chapman and the D.A., no one in the LAPD knew anything about Dombrowski or Merriwhether and their link to the case.
“Second item, is the team sites and team members.”
Carly didn't see his name on the list, but he assumed that was also part of the decision to keep Dombrowski and any associations to him out of the picture for now. He was happy to see that Diane's name on the list after Hernandez'. Being part of the operation was exciting, sharing it with Diane was an unexpected but pleasant surprise.
Third point, besides the decoys and the support teams, Diane had arranged an extra contingent of patrol cars to be near, although not in the targeted area. She wanted extra hands but didn't want to make it obvious. The black and white patrol cars would be working main thoroughfares in and out of the area. If something came up, they could be called in quickly, if somehow Dombrowski managed to get away, they'd be ready to provide pursuit.
Seventeen women or what appeared to be women, entering the briefing from a side-door interrupted Sully’s next point. The decoys, resplendent in their best sluttish attire pranced into the briefing room to scores of catcalls and whistles.
“Ladies, start your engines!” Sully laughed.
“Ladies hell,” called one officer from the back of the room, “That's Charlie Connelly in the pink hot pants, and Freddie Turner with the silver boa!” The roar of laughter increased, eventually finding its own end, as Sully was too amused to end it himself.
The humor in the room was short lived for one of the participants. Carly's happiness at sharing Diane's company on the stakeout turned to sheer horror as he realized that the tall attractive black woman, bedecked in black lycra pants and a gold lamé bikini top was Diane herself.
“Oh God,” he said aloud, “She's one of the decoys!”
The rest of Sully's briefing didn't register with Carly, as he sat nervously fuming at the unnecessary risk
Diane was exposing herself to. He couldn't imagine why she was doing this. Inspectors didn't go undercover. Inspectors didn't do decoy. “Hell,” he thought, “She wasn't even emotionally stable enough to carry out such a delicate role in an operation of this magnitude.” By the time Sully concluded his briefings and Diane had added a few words of encouragement, Carly had nearly a hundred arguments as to why she shouldn't be a decoy, none of which addressed his most important reason…he was falling in love with her.
Carly had managed to corner her in a side office with his protests, as soon as she was done addressing the group. “I won't hear it,” she snapped, using her best Inspector's voice.
“You have no right Carly. I'm a part of this squad and I learned a long time ago that no one, but no one, is exempt when it comes to the dirty work. We called for volunteers and only got thirteen women officers, we needed more than that so I volunteered too. We eventually had to add a couple of the men, just to beef up the numbers.”
Stopping her tirade only long enough to take a breath, she waded back into him, “Listen, damn it. I'm a twelve-year veteran. Including two years on vice, where I worked as a decoy on prostitution stings. I'm six foot, one hundred and forty pounds. I'm probably in better shape than any man sitting in this room. I've got a black belt in Taekwondo, and can draw a pistol and shoot with the best of them. I'm not going to order someone with lesser skills and a whole lot more fear to do something, just because you've got a conflict of interest. You either accept the fact that I am more than qualified and capable for this assignment or you stay home. Got it?”
Recognizing a lost argument and stunned by the passion in which she addressed him, Carly turned away, afraid of the potential the night held. Quickly Diane grabbed his arm, pulled him back to her and kissed him, reassurance flooding his heart.
“Thanks for caring, Carly. Don't worry, I'm good, if not the best.”
She'd need to be, he thought, if Dombrowski chose her.
Sitting in the van was nowhere nearly as pleasant as Sully's description of it had been. With the communication equipment, supplies, and three bodies there was little extra room, especially for Carly's legs it seemed. The van had an unpleasant odor that seemed to grow stronger in the heat of the L. A. evening. Too many cops had spent too many hours in that van. The smells of bodies, hamburgers, spilled coffee and idle hours were not the kind of scents that a maintenance man could clean out of it. It had been lived in.
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