by Henry Hack
“I recommend we continue monitoring Winston for another breakthrough. He is our only hope to solve the mystery.”
“Very good. Do we now close the case?”
“We close it temporarily, sir,” Susan said.
“Temporarily?”
“We tell Cassidy the case is closed for now, but we put it on the record it is subject to be re-opened if circumstances demand. And we are specific, so he knows he is not completely off the hook.”
“How specific?”
“We tell him if the Court of Appeals rules in the Department’s favor on the polygraph case, he will be required to submit to a test immediately. We also tell him about the tape recorder at Winston’s bedside, and the first thing we will find out if Richie comes out of the coma again, is the meaning of the words, ‘Tell Cassidy thanks for saving me.’”
“What do you think, Sergeant Becker?”
“I agree with Sergeant Goldman’s recommendations completely, sir.”
“So do I. Sergeant Becker, will you convey our conclusions to Officer Cassidy and his delegate on Sergeant Goldman’s behalf?”
“Certainly, sir.”
“Wait, Sergeant.” He looked at Susan and said, “Is that all right with you? I want a few moments in private with you, but I’ll wait if you would rather speak with Cassidy personally yourself.”
“No, sir. Sergeant Becker can handle this fine. We have been on the same page throughout this investigation.”
After Rita left the inspector’s office, Susan’s relief at how well this briefing had gone suddenly turned to apprehension. Why did he want to see her alone? What was he about to spring on her? Would she have the appropriate answers?
“Sergeant?”
“Yes, sir?”
“I have a couple of things I’d like to say to you. First, I apologize for my behavior at this morning’s meeting. I acted inappropriately and should never have criticized you in front of those detectives. I have some concerns not related to this case that interfered with my composure and judgment. Please forgive me.”
“That’s not necessary, sir…”
“Yes, it is. Do you forgive me, Susan?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, noting this was the first time the inspector had ever called her by her first name.
“Second, I wish to commend you on your work on this investigation. I know I’m overly critical at times and tend to be picky on minor points, but I do that to keep you sharp and focused. And I tend to not praise enough, such as your response to the hospital in a raging snow storm on New Year’s Eve. I appreciate your dedication.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Now, for the third and final item. I have a theory concerning the so-called mystery – a possible explanation for Winston’s words. I hoped someone, especially you, would have thought of this theory also. This was one reason I was agitated at this morning’s meeting. Then I thought about it and realized your limited experience and your sense of morality might have prevented your mind from ever thinking of this alternative because of its dreadful nature. Let me come to the point. Is it possible Cassidy was still in the vicinity while the attack took place? Is it possible Cassidy knew the attack was taking place and did nothing to stop it? Is it possible Cassidy went into the parking lot and saw Winston’s condition? Is it possible Cassidy ran to the callbox to get help for Winston, then decided against it and hung up the phone? Is it possible Winston believes Harry got the help that arrived shortly thereafter? Is it possible that was why Richie asked you to tell Harry thanks for saving his life?”
“My God, Inspector. Could that possibly be true?” That would mean…”
“Yes, that would mean Officer Harold Cassidy violated his sworn oath of office and deliberately left someone to die – a betrayal of his shield. No worse crime can be committed by a police officer.”
“I can’t believe it. You’re right, I could not have conceived Cassidy, or any officer, could be capable of so grievous, so callous an action.”
“It’s only a theory, but it fits the facts as we know them so far. Do you think you can prove it true? Or disprove it?”
“If it’s true, Cassidy will never admit it.”
“That depends on the degree of guilt he has to bear. Time may lessen the guilt or increase it. Think it over.”
“It’s too horrible to contemplate. I hope it’s not true.”
“As do I, but consider it a possibility. Don’t discard a theory unless you absolutely prove it false.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sergeant, let’s keep this theory between us. We should not voice it with anyone else. It will be our secret until it’s resolved.”
“That’s a great suggestion. It would be terrible if these suspicions got out.”
“Not even Sergeant Becker, at least not right now.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. She left the office on shaky legs, thinking the un-thinkable about Police Officer Harold T. Cassidy.
Susan walked to her office and saw Rita about to enter hers. She followed Rita inside and sat down. “Any problems, Sue? Did the Russian give you another hard time?”
“On the contrary. He apologized for his behavior at this morning’s meeting, and he complimented the both of us again for our work on the case.”
“Wow, what a turn around. What did you do? Roll around on his desk with him?”
Susan laughed, thinking of the improbability of such a situation and said, “How did it go with Harry when you gave him the news?”
“Ah, Harry, speaking of rolls in the hay. It went well, though he seemed disappointed you weren’t there. But he certainly was relieved the case was closed, at least for now.”
“How did he react to the future polygraph threat and the tape recorder still in place at Winston’s bedside?”
“I didn’t detect any reaction when I hit him with that. I don’t think it registered right now. He was probably thrilled just to be getting out of here without charges for him to worry about some future possibilities.”
“Thanks for handling that, and thanks for all your help on this case.”
“My pleasure. Where do you and Harry go from here?”
“I was just contemplating that myself, and I don’t know.”
“Please keep me posted. Since I don’t have a love life, I can at least experience one vicariously through yours.”
“You may be disappointed.”
“Hey, Sue. Any lovin’s better than no lovin.’”
●
“It seems you were right,” Harry said. “It looks like they’re done with me.”
“Yeah, I think so. But they always leave an opening to come back at you, like that new evidence crap.”
“Yeah, and the polygraph. Joe, what if the Court of Appeals rules against the PBA and says it’s now legal for the Department to force me to take the test?”
“I know our lawyers say they are confident we’re going to win, but if we don’t, there seems to be some debate if we have a strong enough constitutional issue to appeal federally. In this case, it would go directly to the U.S. Supreme Court. Why are you so concerned?”
“I don’t trust that goddamn box, and I don’t want them trying to hang me with it.”
“I don’t either. Let’s hope we win. No use worrying now.”
●
Susan left Rita’s office and thought over the day’s events. Gregorovich’s theory had her head spinning. Was it possible Harry Cassidy, the guy she had gone to bed with just two days ago, was capable of such a cold-blooded, heartless deed? Could he deliberately have left Richie Winston to die in his car on Christmas Day? It didn’t seem possible, but Harry’s reaction to her question about saving Richie had momentarily shaken her belief in his innocence. She played the interview over again and again, and finally she dialed the intercom to Rita’s office. “Rita, it’s Sue. It’s almost five o’clock. I need to talk, and I need a drink. Can we go somewhere?”
“Sure, where?”
“How about Lenny’
s Lounge up on Jericho Turnpike?”
“Good. See you there in a half hour?”
They chose a darkened corner table in the rear of the cocktail area. Rita ordered a cosmopolitan and Susan a vodka martini, straight up, from the gum chewing waitress.
“A martini? Rita said. “What happened to your usual chardonnay?”
“This was a very bad day. And I don’t mean the grilling I got from Gregorovich at the morning meeting. It will probably be a two or three martini day.”
“What did I miss? I thought the afternoon went well with the inspector. Didn’t you say he praised us for our work on the case and apologized to you for his behavior?”
“Yes, I did, but he laid a bombshell on me that has my stomach churning and my mind spinning.”
“What bombshell?”
“I can’t tell you. Gregorovich swore me to secrecy, and specifically mentioned I not even confide in you.”
“Then what are we doing in a dark corner of a bar drinking hard alcohol?”
“So I can confide in you, of course. Screw Gregorovich. He’s no friend or confidante. You are, Rita.”
“Atta girl. Now what’s the big secret?”
Susan explained Gregorovich’s theory for Winston’s choice of words and her reaction. She then said, “Of course, now I’m in turmoil over my relationship with Harry. What do I do now?”
“You want to have a loving relationship with Harry Cassidy, but you also want to bury him if he’s guilty of this heinous dereliction of duty. But that’s a big if. Remember, it’s only Gregorovich’s theory of what happened. It is not a fact and may, after all, be totally off-base.”
“What are you saying? Which way do I go?”
“Both ways. You stay with Harry and hope for a long relationship. If he loves you and is honest with you, he’ll tell you if he left Winston to die. Who else will he unburden himself to if not the one he loves?”
“And if he didn’t do this?”
“Then I get to be a maid of honor and you and Harry live happily ever after.”
“And if he did do this, and he does tell me? What then? What do I do then?”
“Ah-ha! The $64,000 question. My best advice is to face that dilemma only if it happens. I’ll still be here for more advice, especially if you’re buying more cosmos.”
“I don’t know if I could make love to him again with this knowledge percolating in my brain.”
“Susan, it’s only a supposition.”
“I suppose you’re right. This whole thing strikes me as very odd. If only Winston would snap out of this coma long enough to tell us more.”
“Susan, go for it. Harry may be a hard-edged street cop, but he’s bright, handsome and witty. You two will go great together. Guys like him don’t come along too often. He’ll be good in your life, and I believe he needs you in his.”
“Thanks. You’re a wonderful friend. Let me buy you another drink.”
Chapter Sixteen
When Pop Hunter had left Gregorovich’s office after the so-called off the record conversation, he would not allow himself to believe Hoppy would leave Winston to die. Yet, deep inside his soul, Pop had to consider if it had done so. Harry had been on the street ten years, and the street could affect you in terrible ways. He was used to getting his way and controlling his beat, but Winston had gotten away time and time again and took delight in letting Harry know it. And everyone now figured, correctly, Harry had choked Richie almost to the blackout stage. Had Harry gotten a taste of murder in his heart? Is that why he came back? Is it possible he would have killed Winston, but the real perps got there first?
This scenario played itself over and over in Pop’s mind the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. He still thought about it after dinner when the phone rang.
“Hi, Pop. It’s Harry.”
“I was just thinking about you. How did the interview go?”
“Just like you said it would. The twins came at me very hard and Vitale was on the verge of lodging a grievance. But finally they backed off and it looks like they’re closing the case for now.”
“What do you mean for now?”
“They said they would re-open it if new evidence arises, or if the Court of Appeals rules for the Department on the polygraph issue.”
“No charges at all?”
“No, I’m off the hook for awhile.”
“You’d better stay on your toes,” Pop said. “Gregorovich doesn’t give up easy, and I don’t think Goldman will either.”
“Do you think Susan is out to get me?”
“Why don’t you ask her?”
“I just might. I’m going to call her when I get off the phone with you. I think we’re falling for each other and I find it hard to believe she would pursue this any further.”
“Yeah, that’s what Samson thought when he fell asleep in the arms of the beautiful Delilah, and you know what she did.”
“You don’t trust her, do you, Pop?”
“No, she could be playing you like a fish, just waiting for you to slip up.”
“But I have nothing to slip up about. What are you implying here? Don’t you believe me?”
“Maybe I’m being paranoid. Follow your heart and ride it out.”
“I’m going to give it a try, and I’ll keep you up to date. I hope you and Nick find those guys that stabbed Richie real soon.”
“Thanks, Hoppy. I guess I’ll see you around the squad or on your beat. And if you and Goldman hit it off, remember you have to bring her over to the house.”
“I will, Pop. Take care.”
He hung up the phone and pondered Pop’s words. Had he detected some doubts? Had Pop figured out what happened that night, and had he tried to tell him maybe Susan had figured it out also? Pop had to be giving him these warnings for some reason. And, of course, Pop couldn’t come right out and accuse him of a betrayal, because he didn’t know for certain. No one knew. There were no witnesses. Only Richie Winston knew, and with any luck, he would stay in that coma for a long, long, time. Or die. Or come to and tell all.
When Susan’s phone rang she knew it had to be Harry, yet she hesitated and waited until the fifth ring before she picked up the receiver.
“How are you, Harry?”
“I barely survived the attack of the Kamikazes. You know, you two came at me pretty strong.”
“It was our job, and all of our work is subject to the scrutiny of Gregorovich.”
“I understand – I guess.”
“It all came out fine. It’s over for now. Did Rita wrap it up for you? Do you have any questions?”
“No, she was clear. But why did you send Rita? Why didn’t you come out to talk with me? It’s your case, isn’t it?”
“I wanted to, but Gregorovich had me remain to clear up a few more items.”
“Is he satisfied with your conclusions?”
“Yes, I believe this is all over, despite the threats to re-open the case if new evidence arises. That’s a standard tactic and Gregorovich insisted we hit you with it. He does not like to lose.”
“I feel so sorry the Mad Russian was unable to add my scalp to his collection. Gee, I hope this won’t stop him from getting his promotion.”
“He’s getting real edgy over that.”
“Susan, where do we go now? Are we still on?”
“Do you want us to be on?”
“Very much. I want to see you and be with you.”
“I would like that very much, too.”
“When can I see you again?”
“Whenever we can. What do you suggest?”
“Tomorrow is my last day off then I start the midnight shift. We can grab some dinner after you finish work.”
“Fine. Talk to you tomorrow.”
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Things were looking up for the first time since Christmas Eve. He just couldn’t understand Pop’s misgivings about Susan at all. Pop was a smart detective, but Harry knew his paranoia was off-base here for sure. He slept through
the night for the first time in almost two weeks.
Susan’s sleep was not nearly as sound as Harry’s. She had taken Rita’s advice, willingly, and decided to go for it. She could fall in love with Harry, she probably was already, but Richie’s words would haunt her tonight – tell Cassidy thanks for saving me. She desperately hoped they would go away soon, but she knew they wouldn’t. They would roll around inside her head until Richie, or Harry, told her what they meant.
●
Harry called for Susan the next morning. Miss Livermore said she was in an interview, but Sergeant Becker had asked to speak with him if he called. He was put through to her and said, “Good morning, Sergeant Becker.”
“You know,” she said, “now this case is over you may as well call me Rita. And I’ll call you Harry, if that’s all right with you.”
“That would be fine, Rita.”
“Harry, I just wanted to let you know I’m happy for you and Susan. I think you two are great for each other, and I hope everything works out.”
“Thanks, I hope so, too. We’ll be fine unless she switches to Kamikaze mode.”
“Kamikaze mode?”
“It’s just something between me and Susan. It’s nothing.”
“Is this some bizarre sexual act I haven’t tried yet?”
Harry felt heat rise in his face. This Rita was a character all right. “No...it’s, a nickname.”
“Susan’s nickname is Kamikaze?”
“It’s both your nicknames. Didn’t Susan tell you?”
“No, you tell me.”
“You two are known as the Kamikaze Twins. You know who the Kamikaze pilots were, right?”
“Yeah, I get it, Harry. They were Japs, and Susan and I are Japs. I get it and…I like it.”
“You like it?”
“Sure. You know you’re doing a good job when the troops put a derogatory nickname on you. Like yours, Hoppy”
“Where did you get that from?”
“If I hadn’t heard it from Detective Hunter, I could have figured it out from your dossier.”
“How so?”
“I watch a lot of old movies, you know. Hopalong Cassidy rides in on his white horse and straightens everything out. No gray situations left unresolved. You’re just like he was – you’re a modern day Hopalong Cassidy cleaning up his beat. You even have the same last name.”