Good Cop Bad Cop (A James Harris Series Book 1)

by Richard Nesbitt

  “Are you sure about this, Jimmy?” She asked. Her eyes searched his for answers.

  “Stop asking questions. I will bring him in. Just do me a favor and when you are safely in your vehicle and pass in front of the gate, give your horn two long blasts, okay?”

  “Okay, but what about his immunity? Will he really get away with this?”

  “Christi,” Harris paused, staring into her eyes. “Stop worrying. Just take care of Emily now.”

  Christi nodded grimly.

  “I will catch up with you.”

  Harris noticed that Emily was looking at him with deep, sorrow filled eyes. She understandably looked exhausted. He gave her a tight-lipped smile and nodded his head.

  “You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever known, Emily. You will get past this.”

  “Please kill him,” she responded weakly, leaning on Christi for support.

  “Go now,” Harris said to Christi, ignoring Emily. “I will see you later.”

  “I will beep, promise.”

  “Thank you.”

  Christi started towards the door, with Emily in tow. The battered girl leaned into Christi who draped a supportive arm around her.

  “I will see you again, child!” Castillo’s weak voice called after them.

  The Columbian’s head snapped back against the wall as Harris’ foot caught him on the bridge of his nose. Blood poured over the man’s mouth and chin and he grimaced in pain as his hand rose to cover his face.

  “Just go!” Harris barked to the women.

  Without looking back, Christi and Emily walked through the door and out of the chamber of horrors.

  Harris watched until they were no longer in sight and then he turned to face Castillo. The man had blood coming from the gash that Harris opened on the side of his head as well as his broken nose.

  “I have diplomatic immunity,” Castillo repeated, staring up at Harris. His chest heaved and his breathing had a distinctive rattle. “You must arrest me.”

  “You don’t sound very good, Salvador. I think I broke a couple of your ribs,” Harris said. “Sorry about that.”

  “You-you know who I am,” the man wheezed. “Good. You are a police officer….you must arrest me.”

  Harris put a finger to his lips and shushed the man. Standing upright, he stepped over to the knife that Castillo had dropped and kicked it away towards the far corner of the room. He then took the magazine out of his AR-15, and pulled back the bolt releasing the round that had been in the chamber. It flew into the air and he caught it and put the lone round back into the magazine which he then slid into his right cargo pocket. Satisfied the weapon was no longer a threat, he laid it on the work bench. He slowly looked around the room taking everything in.

  Turning back to the work bench he stared down at the several knives, pliers and a lone ball peen hammer that sat in orderly fashion. He picked up the black box with the dials and the voltage and amp meters. There were two connections, negative and positive which had loose wires running from them. After studying the unit for a moment, Harris looked under the bench and saw that the cord ran to a small generator that was located behind the open cell door. He hadn’t noticed that when he’d first entered the room. This was Castillo’s power source.

  Next he walked around the video camera mounted on the tripod. He noticed the red light was still on and leaned in to press stop on the machine. The red light blinked out.

  Harris then leaned down to examine the chair in which Emily had been strapped. Its leather restraints were wired and waiting for the attachment of the cables from the black box. He knelt and examined the cuffs, lifting them to see how the circuits were connected. Harris noticed his hands were shaking and he glanced over with barely controlled fury at Castillo who was watching him intently.

  “I am innocent until proven guilty. I-I know your laws. You must arrest me,” the man said weakly.

  Harris turned away, unable to trust himself to look at the man for another second. He stood, took a deep breath, and walked to the cell. He saw the lone light bulb which hung from the ceiling. He also saw the camera and the motion detector that were placed high and pointed down towards the floor. Walking outside the cell, Harris saw that the wires came through a hole in the plywood and were connected to a machine that resembled a stereo component. It had several dials and sliders.

  He walked back into the cell. The light bulb burned brightly. Harris waved his hand in front of the detector. Nothing happened. He considered this for a second and then gave a loud whistle into the detector. The light bulb went out. He understood. Noise meant darkness.

  Exiting the cell for a second time, Harris calmly approached Castillo who was still half laying, half sitting with his shoulders against the wall, struggling to breath. He squatted down, balancing on the balls of his feet. The man stared up at him with a mixture of fear and loathing.

  From outside the building, a cars horn beeped two long times causing both men to look towards the door.

  Slowly, Harris turned his head back to smile at Castillo.

  “I –I demand you contact my embassy,” the man repeated.

  Harris remained crouched in front of the man. He said nothing as he contemplated the situation and its possibilities. With painstaking deliberation, he pulled his 9mm from the holster in his clothing. Castillo’s eyes widened. He pushed away from Harris with his feet as if he could burrow through the wall. From his crouching position, Harris leveled the gun at the man.

  “You cannot do this,” Castillo managed through his labored breathing. His eyes remained wide and the arrogance he’d exhibited moments before was gone. He turned his head away and squeezed his eyes shut.

  Harris then turned left, leaning back towards the door and aimed his pistol into the hallway. He fired two rounds. Castillo flinched as the shots echoed through the building. The bullets hit the wall outside the door leaving two neat holes. He then returned the 9mm to its holster all the while staring at the man who lay before him.

  “What-what do you think you’re doing?” Castillo demanded fearfully. “I am offering no resistance. You must arrest me!”

  “Must I?” Harris asked. His voice was low and cold, a frozen dagger.

  “It-it is your duty,” Castillo muttered weakly. He wheezed several times, his chest rattling loudly. The man squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced as pain wracked his body. After a long pause, the Columbian regained his composure. He looked up.

  “You are a policeman,” he said slowly. “You have rules to-to follow.”

  Harris considered this, all the while staring down at the man. He looked at Castillo’s crooked and bloody nose. He then took note of the gash he’d opened on the side of the man’s head. Finally he spoke.

  “You know, people keep telling me that. The thing is, I think I like your rulebook better.”

  The two men locked eyes.

  Castillo felt a chill run down his spine as Harris flashed him a broad smile.

  Good Cop Bad Cop

  71

  Sirens filled the air and numerous bystanders pressed against each other hoping to catch a glimpse of the excitement. News trucks and police cars packed 10th Avenue shutting it down completely between 48th and 49th Street. Inside the medical center, several large members of the D.A.’s private security team stood watch in front of a private room. Doctors, nurses and police all ran about in a frenzy of activity as the news of Emily’s appearance in the Brooklyn E.R. sent shockwaves through the city.

  In a supervisor’s office, Sylvia Blumquist held Christi and both women sobbed openly. An hour earlier, Christi had been ushered out of Emily’s hospital room as doctors administered treatment to the severely dehydrated and malnourished young lady. There were also a myriad of tests to run. Sylvia’s limousine had screeched up to the medical center a half hour after that. Watching Sylvia sprint into Emily’s room, scream and grab her daughter had brought tears to the eyes of everybody who witnessed it. The two had embraced for a full five minutes as Sylvia covered her gir
l with kisses and the two had sobbed in each other’s arms. At the doctor’s insistence, the tests finally resumed and Sylvia, after posting two well armed guards by her daughter’s door had whisked Christi away to the private office.

  “Dear God, child,” Sylvia cried as she now stared into Christi’s eyes. Her face was an unbridled mask of elation and disbelief. “I will never be able to thank you. Never.”

  “There is no need,” Christi said as she wiped a tear from her own face with her sleeve.

  “I can’t believe this is really happening,” Sylvia gushed. “I keep thinking that I’m going to wake up and find out I’ve been dreaming.”

  “I know exactly what you mean.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay,” Sylvia asked, deep concern in her voice.

  “I’m fine. Don’t spend another second worrying about me.”

  “And Jimmy’s ok? Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. He laid the bastard out. He’s going to bring him in and then join us here. Stop worrying.”

  “Okay,” Sylvia nodded.

  Christi smiled sweetly at the older woman.

  “I have to get back to her,” Sylvia said. “Please tell me you’re not going anywhere right away.”

  “Wild horses couldn’t drag me out of here. I’m waiting on Jimmy.”

  “I have two daughters now,” Sylvia said with quiet sincerity. “You and I will always have a special bond.”

  “Do you want me to start crying again?” Christi answered, her voice choking with emotion.

  “I will be in your debt forever,” Sylvia said. She kissed the younger woman’s cheek and then turned and rushed back towards her daughter’s room.

  Christi turned away from the door to compose herself. She then turned back and walked into the hallway where there were several high ranking police officials who waited to hear the full account of her story for what seemed like the hundredth time.

  Suddenly, the waiting room exploded in a cacophony of cries and shouts. A large group of reporters and police officers rushed to the doors to swarm Harris as he walked into the medical center. Flashes popped and tape recorders were shoved towards the man as he pushed his way through the crowd.

  Blood streamed from his left shoulder and down his arm and he looked disheveled as though he’d been in an accident himself. Questions were fired at him one on top of the other as he fought his way back towards the doors leading into the E.R.’s treatment room. He was allowed through a line of police who now stood, shielding the press from converging on the man. Harris spotted Christi and walked over to the young woman. She threw her arms around him and held on tightly. Finally she backed away and looked into his eyes.

  “Dear God, Jimmy,” she asked in a hushed voice. “What happened?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Harris whispered in her ear. “Thank you for what you did.”

  “Stop that,” she said. “My God, are you okay?”

  “How is she?” Harris asked, ignoring her question.

  “She’s in with doctors right now. She’s going to be okay.”

  “Sylvia?”

  “She’s in there too.”

  “Good,” Harris said nodding his head. He began to walk away. “We’ll talk later. I promise.”

  “Okay, Jimmy.”

  “I’ve got to go right now.”

  She nodded, understanding.

  He gave her a wink and then walked straight through the doors, past the nurses’ station and spotting an empty room, took the liberty of entering and sitting on the exam table. A visibly upset group of doctors and nurses, unaccustomed to having their E.R. commandeered, were speaking with two high ranking police officers who quickly told them who Harris was. Their expressions went quickly from annoyance to surprise and then deference. This was the man who had saved Emily.

  Harris was immediately followed into the room by four police officers, the lowest rank among them being Captain. They surrounded Harris.

  “Where is he?” A deputy commissioner, whom Harris did not recognize, asked. “Where is Castillo?”

  “What happened?” The lone captain in the room asked.

  “Why the hell didn’t you call it in?” A third asked.

  The fourth man took control of the situation and the badge he wore showed him to be the ranking man in the room. “Give the man a second. Are you okay, Lieutenant? Would you like some water?”

  “Goddamn, sir, water sounds great actually,” Harris replied.

  “Get the man some water,” the senior officer ordered the captain. The man left the room and, almost immediately, returned with a bottled water. Harris accepted it with a gracious nod. He twisted the cap off, tipped the bottle up to his lips and emptied it in one long drink.

  “Okay, what’s the story, Lieutenant? Where’s the perp?” The senior man asked.

  “He got away,” Harris spoke calmly.

  “What?!” The group cried almost in unison.

  “What do you mean, he got away?! Where the hell did he go?!”

  “Well, he didn’t tell me where he was heading,” Harris answered sarcastically. “I was cuffing him and he must have had a knife hidden somewhere. He cut me, then we struggled and he got the best of me. I got a couple shots off as he ran away but I don’t think I hit him.”

  “Holy shit,” one of the men said. He immediately grabbed his walkie talkie and ordered an all points bulletin for the fugitive. “He is to be considered armed and extremely dangerous.”

  “What the hell, Lieutenant?” another of the high ranking officers exclaimed in disgust.

  “Why didn’t you call it in?!” The third man demanded.

  “My radio broke, probably during the struggle.”

  “Jesus H. Christ!” The captain shouted.

  “Look, I’m not happy about it either,” Harris remarked.

  The man looked at Harris and, shaking his head, exited the room. The other three followed him as their priorities had instantly shifted and they now discussed their strategies for a manhunt.

  “Don’t go anywhere,” the captain ordered as he left with the group.

  A doctor entered the room. He approached Harris and extended his hand.

  “I’m honored to meet you, Lieutenant.” he said. “I’m Doctor Hawthorne.”

  “Hey, doc,” Harris answered as he carefully shook the man’s hand. “I’ve got a bit of a flesh wound here.”

  He gestured to the obvious slash in his shirt and the blood that seeped down his arm.

  “Let me take a look at that,” the doctor said as he gingerly spread the sides of the torn shirt away so he could examine the gash.

  Harris winced as the physician gently pulled apart the wound to see how deep it was.

  “This isn’t bad. A quick tetanus shot and a few stitches and you’ll be right as rain.”

  “Sounds good, doc.”

  “How’s that head? Looks like you took a blow.”

  “It’s nothing,” Harris said as he reached up to touch a bump on his forehead. “I think I banged it on the floor when I scuffled with the perp.”

  “Well, to be on the safe side I want to order a cat scan,” the doctor said. He then turned to the nurse that stood behind him. “Please help the Lieutenant get his shirt off, I’ll be right back.”

  “Yes doctor,” the nurse replied as the man exited the room. She walked over to Harris and as he lifted his arms and bent at the waist, the nurse peeled his shirt off as delicately and as slowly as she could.

  Just as she’d finished, there was another loud roar of voices and both Harris and the nurse looked to the hallway to see the cause of the commotion.

  Commissioner Gerland and Deputy Commissioner Dinkins strode into the room as a group of underlings stopped short and waiting in the hallway. Gerland’s face was red and he looked at the nurse and cocked his thumb towards the door.

  “Out,” he ordered.

  “And just who the hell do you think you are?” The nurse demanded angrily. She was not about to be intimidated away from he
r patient.

  “Never mind,” Harris interjected as he placed a hand on the nurse’s shoulder. He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Let us have the room for a second, would you?”

  The nurse looked at Harris in silence for a second. Then she nodded her head and walked past the two older police officers with a huff. Dinkins closed the door behind her.

  “What the fuck did I just hear about Castillo getting away?!” Commissioner Gerland yelled.

  “No, no. Emily’s great,” Harris spoke calmly. She’s doing fine, thanks for asking.”

  “You watch your smart ass, Lieutenant,” the commissioner growled. “Why the hell didn’t you inform us about this operation!? You intentionally withheld information!”

  “I had my reasons,” Harris answered calmly.

  “There’s no reason good enough to explain this gross negligence! If you’d included us, we’d have Castillo in custody right now!”

  “Or Emily would be dead.”

  “You arrogant bastard,” Dinkins growled. “Do you really think you’re the only one who knows what he’s doing?!”

  “As I said, I had my reasons and they will be in my report.”

  “Do you really expect us to believe that this man simply escaped?” Gerland fired.

  “I don’t really give a shit what you believe.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you call it in immediately?! And why the hell did you send that young reporter off alone with the district attorney’s daughter!? Are you out of your mind?!”

  “It will all be in my report.”

  “Screw your report! Do you have any idea the serious breaches of protocol you’ve committed? Do you have any ideas how many rules you violated? You just hung yourself, mister!”

  “Hmmm,” answered Harris casually. “Do you think the D.A.’s going to want to press charges against me?”

  “Go to hell! I want to know what happened to Castillo right now and you are going to tell me you son of a bitch!”

  “He attacked me, cut me with a knife and escaped. I fired a couple shots but missed.”

  “Bullshit!” Dinkins interjected.

  “Well, that’s as good as it’s going to get so why don’t you both get the hell out of here and let them patch me up?”