by Brent Pilkey
Any other time, Jack might have found her performance ludicrous, but at the moment it was anything but amusing. Annoyed, disgusted, he squatted and grabbed a flailing arm. She was still crying out for Jesus to save her and banging on the floor with her free hand, as if Jesus was a downstairs tenant. Jack reached for the other arm but there was too much of her to lean over and the arm was too sweat-slick to grab.
“God-fucking-damn it, woman. Hold still!”
“Jesus! Save me!” she howled, thrashing her blubber around.
Jack’s anger at this self-righteous, uncaring ass was about to break free but then Autry was there, kneeling across from him and snagging the woman’s free arm with two hands. He twisted the arm up none too gently behind her back, eliciting a cry of wordless pain from her.
Jack nodded his thanks and took the arm. As he snapped the handcuffs on he spared a quick look at the children, afraid of how this embarrassing scene with their mother would be affecting them. The boy was still asleep in Jenny’s embrace and the baby, now held awkwardly by Bill, was staring at the loud woman on the floor in a puzzled yet unconcerned way.
Jack hauled the blubbering woman to her feet and pressed her to the wall. “Why don’t you go down with the kids first?” he suggested to Jenny. “That way, they don’t have to listen to this piece of garbage.”
“Good idea,” she said, staring at the mother with what looked to Jack to be complete and utter revulsion. The mother undoubtedly had no idea how lucky she had been that Jenny’s hands hadn’t been free.
Jenny and Bill, with the kids safely in hand, disappeared into the elevator. Once the doors rattled shut, Jack took the whimpering woman by one flabby arm and walked her down the hall. Her pleas for divine intervention had subsided in volume, but as soon as Jack started her walking she must have realized where she was headed; she threw back her head and hollered.
“Jesus! Help me!”
“Enough!” Jack roared. “That’s . . . fucking . . . enough!”
Stunned into silence, the woman stared at Jack, blinking owlishly at him. “Ah ain’t done no’ting,” she protested.
“Nothing?” Jack repeated, astounded. “Nothing? Your baby could have died falling down those stairs and your son is so dehydrated he’s unconscious. And you think you haven’t done anything wrong? Fuck me.” He turned away from her in disgust and jabbed the elevator button. “And just in case you cared,” he added over his shoulder, “the baby’s fine. I don’t know about your son.”
“Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,” she chanted and Jack knew she wasn’t thanking Him for looking after her children. “Jesus, help me. Jesus, help me,” she whined, gaining volume. “Jesus, h —”
There was a sharp, piercing crack! as Autry slapped the woman across the face. “Now you be quiet like the officer said,” he warned her. “Or you’ll be getting another one.”
“Ah ain’t done —”
Slap!
The woman’s head rocked sideways, both cheeks tattooed with Autry’s handprint. The security guard glared at his countrywoman with an intensity and hatred that Jack would not have thought the old gentleman capable of.
Autry leaned in toward the mother so they were almost nose to nose. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you, woman.” He stepped back and studied her head to toe, as if mentally weighing her value. It was clear she came up wanting in his evaluation. “You disgust and embarrass me, woman. I came to this country to give my children a better life. I worked hard so they could go to school, get educated, be better than their father is. I left Jamaica to get away from the likes of you.” His lip curled in a very un-gentlemanly sneer. “Living off welfare, the charity of others, because you’re too lazy to work. Always wanting, demanding, thinking only of yourself.”
He held up a warning finger as she drew breath to speak. “Don’t you be calling to Jesus, woman. You don’t deserve His help and you sure don’t deserve those babies He gave you. Now you just shut your mouth and keep quiet or you’ll be getting another one.”
She looked to Jack for help but only found Autry’s feelings mirrored in his face. Defeated, she hung her head and cried quietly to herself.
“That’s better.” Autry straightened his shirt and faced Jack. “I’m sorry for what I did, officer, but it needed doing. If you need to charge me for what I did, I understand.”
“You didn’t do anything that my partner and I weren’t thinking, Autry. As far as I’m concerned, you did nothing wrong.” The elevator door creaked open and they stepped inside. Jack deposited the woman in a corner before turning to Autry. “And, in my opinion, your kids don’t have to be better than you. If they grow up to be just like you, they’ll be damn good people.”
51’s Youth Bureau was a tiny office — what office in the station wasn’t small? — tucked into a corner on the second floor. The yb detectives were handling the case against Cantrice Morgan, the less-than-stellar mother, because of the age of the victims. The little guys — the baby was a boy, after all — were safely with Children’s Aid but no doubt would be returned to their inattentive mother once she was released on bail.
“Some people just shouldn’t be allowed to breed,” Jack declared.
“No argument here,” Jenny agreed. They had the office to themselves, the Ds having headed home for the evening, and were just finishing their notes.
Jack chuckled. “I wish you had been there when Autry tore a strip off her ass. It was a thing of beauty. Bet it won’t do any good, though.” He sighed and drained the last of his Diet Coke. Belching gently, he chucked the can at the recycle container.
Jenny watched the can arc into the blue bin. “Don’t you ever drink anything else?”
“Hey, I’ve got water out in the car,” he protested. “I just wanted something a little stronger after that call, and they frown on us for drinking on the job.”
Jenny nodded her understanding. “Makes you wonder why some people have kids.”
“Because the government gives them money?” Jack suggested.
“My, aren’t we cynical tonight.” She closed her notebook and stretched in her seat. She felt her spine cracking and popping. Damn, but the vest and gun belt did a number on her back. Not to mention carrying the boy around; he got heavy after a while.
From across the back-to-back desks, Jack watched her stretching. “I notice you’ve started wearing your vest under your shirt,” he commented once she was done emulating a cat.
“I heard Pest telling Paul what you said about the externals and it makes sense.” She paused. “Were you just checking me out?”
“Nope,” he said sincerely.
She cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Honestly,” he swore. Quietly, he added, “Couldn’t. The damn vest was in the way.”
Jenny laughed, then threw out a question. “Do you still want kids?” The question surprised her as much as it seemed to catch Jack off guard. Where did that come from?
He was silent for a moment, then shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know. But with all the trouble between Karen and me right now, I’m just glad we don’t have any. I’ve actually been thinking about it — having kids, I mean — a lot lately. Ever since Karen tried to get pregnant without telling me,” he admitted, his voice tightening over the last words.
Jenny heard the pain in his voice and wanted to help but there was only so much she could do; she was concerned her feelings toward him could get in the way or be misinterpreted.
“What about you?” Jack asked. “Do you want kids?”
“Me?” she squawked. “My sister has two and that’s enough for me. Don’t get me wrong, I love them to death but it’s really nice to be able to give them back when they start to cry.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“Two, actually. I’m the middle child.”
“The problem child,” he amended.
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p; “Damn straight,” she confirmed, smiling. “Both of my sisters are married and there’s two grandchildren already so the pressure’s off me.”
“Lucky you,” he grumbled. “Nothing like parents, or in-laws, pushing for grandchildren.”
“Your parents are on the grandchildren bandwagon?”
Jack shrugged. “Don’t know. We’re not exactly on speaking terms.”
“Oh, Jack, I’m sorry. Do you mind if I ask why?”
He didn’t answer right away and Jenny feared she had pried into forbidden territory. Partners or not, some areas were off limits.
“Dad was against me being a cop,” Jack said at length. “He had dreams of me following in his footsteps and taking over the practice but there was no way I was going to do that.”
“What’s he do?”
Jack fell silent again, then, sighing, “He’s a lawyer.”
“Oh,” Jenny said softly. Lawyers and cops, water and oil.
But it got worse. “A defence lawyer.”
“Oh,” she repeated. Forget water and oil. Try fire and gasoline. “I can’t see you being a defence lawyer.”
“Neither could I and when I told him I was going to be a cop, he acted like I had . . .”
“Stabbed him in the back?”
Jack snorted. “More like slit his throat. I’m an only child so when I refused to take up the family occupation, Dad saw his legacy die, but the thought of being a defence lawyer made me want to puke.”
Jenny nodded. “I can understand you feeling that way now, but why did it bother you so much then? You were what? In high school?”
Jack slumped in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands. “Yeah. I hadn’t even thought of joining the job but what Dad did just seemed wrong.” He sat up, an earnest, troubled look on his face. “You see, Dad wasn’t one of those lawyers who defended people he thought were genuinely innocent. Oh no, not Dad. He always said, the guiltier they are, the more they’ll pay. And Dad got paid a shitload.”
“What about your mother? What did she want you to do?”
“Mom tried to patch things up a few times but . . .” He shrugged again. “They divorced while I was in university. Dad remarried a year later.” He grinned humourlessly. “Upgraded to a newer, younger wife.”
Jenny suddenly understood Jack’s dedication to the job and why Karen’s and her parents’ efforts to get him to quit hurt so much: he had lost his parents, his family, because of the job.
“Is that why you became a cop?” she asked gently. “Because of your dad?”
Jack laughed scornfully. “That’s the best fucking part. I don’t think it had anything to do with him being a lawyer. I wasn’t trying to piss him off but I couldn’t have picked a better occupation if that was my intention.” He paused and Jenny could see he was reliving some unpleasant memories. “Honestly? I couldn’t think of anything else to do. All I knew was that I didn’t want to be a lawyer. Good thing I like the job, huh?” he joked sourly. “How about you? How come you’re a cop?”
Jenny smiled but her thoughts were troubled. Jack could say his revulsion of his father’s profession hadn’t been a factor in his choosing to be a police officer, but how could it not? His father also sounded very similar, painfully similar, to Jack’s father-in-law.
My God, Jack, how much stress are you under?
“So, how come you joined?” he prompted.
“Because,” she explained with a sultry smile, wanting to soothe the wounds she had uncovered. “I look good in black, silly.”
Night was descending on the city, an inky darkness that did little to cool the air. Jack had his arm out the passenger window as Jenny slowly cruised the pathways of Allan Gardens.
“The air feels oily, it’s so humid. Makes you almost wish for winter.”
Jenny immediately pointed her finger to Jack’s temple and cocked her thumb. “One more comment like that and I’ll have to kill you.”
He eyed her sideways. “Not a big fan of winter, I’m guessing.”
“If it isn’t warm enough for me to go into the backyard with my bikini on,” she told him, lowering her ‘gun,’ “then it isn’t fit for humans.”
“You’re going to be a joy to work with come winter.”
She flashed him a sinister smile. “We’ll get along fine. As long as I don’t have to get out of the car.”
“Oh, joy,” Jack groaned and Jenny patted his leg in sympathy.
The park was busy as twilight crept into full night. No empty seats could be found on the benches dotting the pathways, the excess spilling over onto the cement lips of the flower beds. Dogs and their owners roamed the grassy areas, most of the furry companions enjoying a romp off leash. At the sight of the scout car, owners hurried to leash their dogs, but the cops just waved them off. Dogs running loose kept the drunks and crackheads out of the park, or at least down to a tolerable level, and besides, there were worse things going on in the city than a dog chasing a ball or squirrel. Unless you were the squirrel, of course.
“Hey, Jenny,” Jack said, brightening up. “Stop here. There’s someone I want to talk to.”
Jenny eased the car to a stop in front of the park’s greenhouse and Jack got out, taking his water bottle with him.
Damn, it’s hot. Hot and sticky.
Two men were sitting on a bench and as Jack approached, the grubby one — the liquid in his bottle looking a touch too murky to be water — suddenly remembered somewhere he was supposed to be and wandered away, as quickly as he could nonchalantly.
“Guess he didn’t wan’ t’ talk t’ you, Officer Jack,” the remaining man said by way of greeting, an amused smile on his tired face.
“I have that effect on some people.” Jack extended his hand and asked, concerned, “How are you doing, Phil?” Phil was well into his eighties and Jack realized with that age came some wear and tear, but the wrinkles in Phil’s black skin — dark skin that had a definite unhealthy grey tinge to it — appeared deeper than before and the bones in his face more prominent.
“I’m doin’ okay, I guess.” Phil smiled, but the frailty of his handshake — swollen, arthritic knuckles aside — belied his words. “Don’t know whether t’ curse or bless this weather. Too hot t’ sleep but it feels good on my bones.”
“And how’s my buddy Bear doing?” Jack knelt and held out a friendly hand to the little dog hiding under the bench.
Phil laughed. “Go on, Bear. Go say hello.” He gave the dog an encouraging nudge with his slippered foot and Bear, all fifteen or twenty pounds of him, tentatively crept out from under the bench to sniff warily at Jack’s fingers. Bear was a chubby hodgepodge of different breeds on skinny legs and his coat had as many hues of brown in it as his lineage had fathers. He was a skittish little guy but with Jack’s familiar scent, Bear’s stubby tail set to wagging and he hobbled forward to butt his head against Jack’s hand. Grinning, Jack obediently scratched behind Bear’s ears.
Bear slowly, arthritically worked his way down to his belly then rolled — tipped over, really — on to his side. His foreleg rose beseechingly and Jack started on a tummy rub. Bear’s tail thumped the ground in doggy bliss.
“Bear ain’t never bin much for strangers but he sure likes you, Officer Jack.” Phil chuckled at his friend’s silliness but the chuckle hoarsened into a rasp, then a cough. Convulsions racked the old man’s body as he fought for control of his breathing. Jack watched anxiously from where he knelt with Bear, prepared to summon an ambulance if Phil’s coughing fit worsened.
At length, the hacking subsided and Phil wiped his lips with the back of an unsteady hand. “Damned cigarettes,” he muttered. “Payin’ me back, they are.”
Phil’s eyes brightened and he straightened up as best he could when Jenny joined them. Jack introduced her and Phil took her hand courteously.
“My apologies, my dear, for not gett
in’ up to properly greet you but these old bones jus’ don’ wanna move today.” Phil winked at Jack. “She’s a helluva lot better lookin’ than the las’ one you was workin’ with.”
“Manny,” Jack explained.
“Then I would certainly hope so,” Jenny said.
“I’ve been hearin’ a rumour, Officer Jack.”
“Oh, what’s that?”
“You remember that little shit I told you ’bout? The one abusin’ his dog?”
“He doesn’t have another dog, does he?”
“No, he don’,” Phil said, smiling at the sudden vehemence in Jack’s voice. “But he’s bin goin’ ’round sayin’ some big cop stole his dog.” He dropped his voice to a raspy confidentiality. “Cop with a big scar through his eye.”
“Is that so?” Jack asked, raising his scarred eyebrow in mock surprise.
Phil nodded solemnly. “It is.”
“Well, if he believes he’s the victim of a crime, then he should report it to the police. I, personally, wouldn’t know anything about it.” Jack paused, then smiled. “Did I mention that I have a new dog?”
Phil cackled delightedly. “I knew you was a good man,” he managed around his mirth but once more, his laughter degenerated into hoarse coughing. The two officers waited, patient but concerned, for the fit to pass. Even Bear, after labouriously rolling back to his belly, had a wary eye fixed on the old man.
The coughing passed with a final shudder running through Phil and he pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket. “’Scuse me,” he mumbled before spitting into the cloth and wiping his lips.
A sad smile touched Jenny’s lips. “Those damned cigarettes?”
Phil nodded wearily. “Oh, yeah.” He reached down to give Bear an affectionate pat as the old dog waddled his way back underneath Phil’s legs.
“Excuse me, officers,” a tentative voice said from behind Jenny. A young Asian man waited patiently for Jenny to face him before pointing off past the greenhouse. “There’s a man and a woman over there and it looks like he’s going to hit her. I think they might be boyfriend and girlfriend maybe.”