Code of Deceit: A Mystery/Detective novel (David Mason series)

by John Foxjohn

  Beth put her hands on her hips. “David, I’ll buy you a dang pair of pants.”

  Orderlies took David to a room an hour later against his protests. His parents dropped by and his mother cried, but also got to meet Beth. Everyone liked her better than him, even his own mother.

  Ronny slipped in, greeted everyone, but left after he found out David was okay and Henry intended to stay, but told David he’d be back the next day.

  A nurse made everyone leave—everyone except Henry, who refused to leave, and since she had no way of making him, she consented.

  “You two are close, aren’t you?” Henry asked, glancing after Ronny.

  “Yeah. We’ve been through a lot. I met him when they assigned me to the third from the academy. He trained me, and later became my patrol sergeant. He’s a good cop.”

  They told stories, laughed and cut up until a mad nurse stormed into the room. She told Henry if he didn’t let David go to sleep, she’d throw him out herself. Henry looked sheepish and didn’t say anything. She looked capable of making good on her threat.

  ***

  David had every intention of leaving the hospital the next morning but didn’t know how he’d get home. His car remained at the restaurant, but it didn’t matter. He had cast the lone vote to leave, but everyone else insisted he stay, including the doctor.

  “Son, the bullet missed the bones and traveled all the way through. I don’t think we’re going to need to worry about infection if we keep it clean and bandages changed, but muscles weren’t meant for bullets to rip through them. We haven’t closed the wound yet. We left it open to drain and it’ll be simpler to treat if it gets infected. You’re going to need to stay here for a couple days more.”

  Inspector Patterson and Lieutenant Spinks dropped in to see David after the hospital served something they referred to as lunch.

  Usual small talk about the department and the division took up most of the conversation, but David only listened with half of his attention. But the conversation turned to the reason he lay in the hospital in the first place.

  “There’s a reason you didn’t see where the shot came from,” Patterson said. “It came from an empty building’s second floor window across the street.”

  David struggled to sit up. “A sniper?”

  “A good one, too,” Spinks said. “One shot fired from a Winchester .270. We found the casing.”

  “Did you find anything else?” David asked.

  Spinks shook his head. “Not a thing. Clean. I’m surprised we found the casing.”

  With nothing to do, David spent his time trying to look back in his past to figure out who wanted to kill him. He’d arrested a bunch of people over the last few years, and they would be natural suspects, and easy to check out. He didn’t know anyone else, except Brophy and McMillian. Someone needed to check on them. As far as his personal life before and after joining the department, not a single person turned up in his mind, no one who hated him enough to try to kill him.

  “Do you have any ideas on the shooter?” Patterson asked.

  “No, sir—none.”

  Patterson looked at him for a long moment and nodded. “We’re going to put a uniformed guard outside the hospital door, in case something else comes up.”

  David adjusted himself on the bed. He didn’t think anyone would try to kill him in a hospital. Besides, he didn’t like the idea of a bodyguard. “I don’t think anything’s going to happen here in the hospital, sir.”

  “Maybe not, but we aren’t going to take any chances.”

  He adjusted himself to a more comfortable position in the bed. “What’d they do with my badge and gun?”

  “I’ll have them brought up to you,” Spinks said.

  Patterson cocked his head. “That’s a cute little trick with the derringer.”

  David dropped his head, not looking at them. He’d forgotten about the derringer, and wondered if Patterson would make him get rid of it since they weren’t supposed to carry backups. Afraid officers would use the hideaway as throw downs, the department put the rule into effect a few years before, but no one followed it. The saying went, “I’d rather be tried by twelve than buried by six,” justified the other gun. David looked up. “I guess they did it when they cut my dang clothes off. Not a soul knew about the derringer. Not even Henry.”

  “We’ll keep it our little secret,” Patterson said.

  Ronny sauntered in, interrupting them.

  David didn’t have any doubt his friend would return. They’d forged a bond tighter than brothers. Few people understood the attachments that developed between people who saw the elephant together, and he and Ronny had seen the elephant many times over the years. They disagreed on some major points like all people do, but a friendship existed between them no one could ever erase.

  “Some people will do anything to get out of work,” Ronny told the inspector, grinning. He turned to David, “How are you?”

  “I’ve felt better. It hurts.”

  “Have you found anything on the shooter yet?” Ronny asked the inspector.

  Spinks told Ronny where the shooter fired from and they hadn’t found much evidence.

  “What’re we doing to find the shooter?” Ronny asked.

  “We took several detectives off active cases to search David’s files and arrest records. I’m afraid the list’s extensive. Young Detective Mason has been busy since he’s been on the police department.”

  “I sure thought I’d taught him better than this,” Ronny said.

  They talked for a while before leaving David by himself. Patterson let Henry off work for the day, and he’d gone home to get some sleep.

  Anxious for them to leave because he needed to go to the bathroom, he wasn’t going to use his pee-pot in their presence. He decided to get up and walk to the bathroom, which he didn’t think would be a difficult task, until he tried it.

  With his bare feet on the cold, tile floor, David sat on the bed feeling like a Mack truck had run over him. The bullet had hit him in the shoulder, but his entire left side hurt. Unexpected pain waves surged through his body when he moved his shoulder, trying to get up. He knew what the doctor meant when he said, “Muscles weren’t meant to have bullets tearing through them.”

  In the thin hospital gown, he felt ridiculous. He rose and shuffled to the bathroom, while a breeze from the air conditioner blew up his naked behind.

  Another shock awaited him in the mirror. The left side of his face and his neck looked black and moldy, and he could never remember being this bruised. Bandages hid his shoulder and chest, but if his neck and face looked this bad, he imagined how bad the shot area looked.

  Like a TV robot, he took small, stiff-jointed steps leaving the bathroom and came face-to-face with bulldog, the nurse who had threatened to throw Henry out. She waited, hands on hips, scowling. “You want to get up and go to the bathroom, you ring your bell, and we’ll help you,” she commanded.

  David thought about throwing her a salute, but decided she might try to spank him or something worse. “Nurse, this gown thing doesn’t cover my backside. I’m not going to get up and expose myself to everyone.”

  “There’s no one in here but me.”

  “I’m not going to expose myself to you, either.” Especially not to her. If they had good-looking young nurses, that would be a different story.

  “Young man, I’ve seen men’s backsides before.”

  He wanted to tell her he believed her, but decided against it. “Maybe, but you haven’t seen mine, and we’re going to keep it that way.”

  She gave him a couple of pills and a shot and left. She must have tried to drill an oil well with the needle. He half expected to see a blood fountain gushing from his rear when she pulled the auger out.

  Two days sailed past as fast as a snail convention. His private hospital room looked drab with a small closet, bathroom, TV, and a telephone. It also had a window overlooking the parking lot. He watched parked cars all day.

  Beth re
lieved the boredom at night when she got off and they’d talk while she graded papers. David had always thought teachers had an easy job. They went to work in the morning, got off about four, went home and did the things everybody did—cook, watch TV, go out, and had the weekends off. Not to mention, three paid months off during the summer. He laughed at his ignorance.

  Beth stopped by the fourth evening and brought him a hamburger and fries. He wolfed the food down like a starving dog. He always wondered why hospitals fed people Jell-O.

  ***

  Several miles away from the hospital, in his room, a furious young male paced. He had bounced in several nights ago, turned the TV on to see the news. Mason’s death would cause a media frenzy, but he found out Mason had lived. He wasn’t even hurt badly.

  He kicked the old coffee table, hurting his toe, and the pain enraged him even more. He flung himself down on the old chair and jerked up a half empty coke bottle. Taking a long gulp, he slammed the bottle down, smashing it to smithereens, ripping a wide gash in his hand. He stormed to the bathroom to stop gushing blood. When he stopped the bleeding, he returned. The TV was still telling the story. How did he miss an easy shot? As he flopped down, he vowed he wouldn’t miss the next one.

  Chapter 13

  Bored out of his mind, David counted the minutes as he waited for the doctor to come by. After four long-distance snail races, Dr. Treadway finally put in an appearance. He informed his anxious patient that they were letting him out the next morning, and he could go back to work, but on light duty.

  Inspector Patterson and Lieutenant Spinks dropped by afterward, and David told them the doctor released him to return to work.

  “Aren’t you leaving something out?” Spinks asked.

  “Like what, sir?”

  “Light duty part.”

  “Yeah, he did say something about that.”

  “It doesn’t matter too much,” Patterson cut in. “You need to be in court all next week anyway.” He laughed at the pained look on David’s face. “Is that look from your wound or spending all week in court?”

  “Court.”

  “Part of the job,” Spinks said.

  David lay back in bed with a wry grin. Spinks said that like he actually had spent time in a courtroom before, but he never had.

  “We need to talk to you about the shooting,” Paterson said. “We haven’t found anything. This shooting doesn’t make any sense.”

  David looked at the inspector for a moment, trying to figure out how to say what he thought, but before he spoke, Patterson continued.

  “Do you go to that restaurant often?”

  “It was the second time I’ve been there. I haven’t been there in a few years. “Why’d you decide to go there?”

  “Beth suggested it.”

  Concerned frown lines creased Patterson forehead. “She suggested that restaurant?”

  He shook his head. “No, she said she wanted Italian and I decided on the restaurant.”

  Patterson held up three fingers. “Three possible scenarios could’ve happened. First, someone decided to get in that window and shoot someone and you happened to be in the right place at the wrong time. I’m not buying this. We haven’t had that type of shooting here, and a sniper has shot no one else since you. Second scenario, someone waited in the window to shoot you on the off chance you decided to eat there. I’m not buying that one for obvious reasons. Last one, someone followed you and decided to take the shot. I think we’ll all agree this one’s the most likely scenario.”

  “Yes, sir. I think you’re right,” David said.

  When a nurse brushed in, their conversation stopped. She took pulse, blood pressure, and temperature, and recorded her findings on his chart.

  “Okay,” Patterson continued when the nurse left. “Next step is to try to find the reason. Our sniper could’ve wanted to kill you because you arrested him or helped arrest him. Maybe something that happened before you joined the police department, or—don’t take this the wrong way—something to do with your lady friend.”

  “Beth?”

  “Yes. How much do you know about her?”

  David’s eyebrows rose. Beth had anything to do with his getting shot. “I don’t think Beth had anything to do with this.”

  “I’m not talking about her being involved. The shooter might be a jealous ex, or a boyfriend, something like that. We also know she has a brother who’s always in trouble.”

  David closed his eyes. He hadn’t thought about it in those terms. He wondered how much he did know about her. Was there a jealous man out there? One he hadn’t considered. He raised in bed. “You need to ask her about that.”

  “And we shall. Henry’s talking to her. I wanted you to know so you wouldn’t be surprised,” Patterson said.

  David had racked his brain over the last few days on who had a reason to shoot him. Besides people he had arrested, he couldn’t come up with a single suspect, except the two cops he’d turned in. “I’m as baffled by the shooting as you are. If it has nothing to do with the police department, I don’t have a clue. I can’t think of anyone who would’ve wanted to shoot me for anything before I joined the police department.”

  “Okay, last thing to think about, jilted women on your part.”

  David laughed. “Sir, I don’t see a possibility there.”

  Patterson held his hands up. “We aren’t trying to pry into your personal life, but we can’t help hearing rumors circulating around the department.”

  David half smiled. “Yes, sir, I’ve heard them too. I wish most were true.”

  “It’s Friday, and you don’t have to be in court until Monday morning. I don’t want you near the police department until then.”

  “Sir, aren’t you forgetting something?” Spinks said.

  “What, Lieutenant?”

  “Shooting investigation,” Spinks said. Before Patterson said anything, Spinks continued. “Mason, Mills and Combs are investigating this. You’d better keep your nose out of it.”

  David sprang to a sitting position, forgetting the pain his movement caused. “Mills and Combs couldn’t find each other’s butt, let alone a sniper who shot a police officer.”

  Anger flashed in the lieutenant’s eyes. “You’ll do what you’re told, or…”

  Patterson raised his had to cut him off. “David. It’d be better if you stayed away from this one. You’re too involved.”

  “Don’t let me catch you anywhere near this,” Spinks spat the words out.

  “Spinks. Don’t go away mad—just go away.”

  Spinks almost blew a gasket. His face turned crimson. He tried to talk, but words wouldn’t come out. Incoherent sputtering boiled from his mouth. “Y-o-u sorry little son—”

  “Shut up, Lieutenant.”

  “Sir,” David said, “if someone shot and tried to kill you, would you stay away?”

  Spinks, livid with rage, had spit dribbling from the corners of his compressed lips.

  Patterson pursed his lips and nodded several times. “No, I wouldn’t stay away. Don’t step on anyone’s toes.”

  Spinks spun and charged from the room, slamming the door shut on his way out, causing the room to vibrate.

  David shook his head. Did the silly jerk think someone’s going to try to kill him and he’d sit back and not look for them. If he did, he was stupider than David thought.

  “David. Don’t ever talk to another ranking officer in this police department like that.”

  “Yes, sir.” David paused for minute before speaking. “Sir, there’s one possibility you haven’t gone over.”

  “What’s that?”

  “McMillian and Brophy.”

  Patterson scratched his head. “I don’t think those two had anything to do with this.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  “Shooting you won’t change their outcome in any way. Internal Affairs conducted the investigation. The prosecution won’t even call you as a witness if it goes to trial, which I doubt. I’d imagine the
y’ll plead out.”

  “Yes, sir, I know, but look at it this way. No evidence at all left at the scene spells cop or professional.”

  “Okay, I’m going to get Henry to steal a look into this. But you need to stay away from this part. Henry will let you know if anything comes up. But I’m sure those two weren’t involved.”

  When Patterson left, David thought about Spinks. He wondered what he’d done to make Spinks hate him, and he did. He’d tried to help Spinks several times, but he wouldn’t take it and he knew next to nothing about homicide. David wondered how he even got into homicide. Heck, how did he get promoted to sergeant let alone lieutenant?

  David called Beth at school and left a message that he’d be home when she got off work. Good old Henry showed up about an hour later with some clothes for David to wear, and to give him a ride home. David had given him the key and told him which clothes to bring. He sure couldn’t leave the hospital in the little gown thing.

  They didn’t talk on the way to his apartment. When they pulled into the parking lot, David asked Henry to come in. He trudged to the refrigerator and pulled out two Miller Lites, and they sat in the living room for several minutes drinking the beer before Henry decided to talk.

  “I didn’t want to talk to Beth about the shooting.”

  “I know. I don’t think she had anything to do with this whatsoever.”

  “I agree. I’m not going to go into what we talked about, but this woman has her head on her shoulders. With a twisted grin forming, he said, “Only possible blemish is you.”

  “Yep, I don’t know what she sees in me. She can do a lot better.”

  “Not according to her. I’m going to tell you something because we’ve been partners and friends for a while. I think she’s falling in love with you, and if you don’t have the same feelings for her, you need to end this.”

  David frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “David, this woman’s the marrying kind. If you aren’t ready to go that far, or don’t want to, you need to let her go before she gets hurt. She’s not going to shack up with you, or have a tawdry little romance and say goodbye.”

  Before David replied, Henry held his hand up to stop him. “Let me finish. I know this isn’t my business, and if I’m jumping in where you don’t want me, tell me.”