Code of Silence: Living a Lie Comes With a Price

by Tim Shoemaker

  Cooper coasted the last twenty yards to the bridge and braked the moment he crossed. He ditched his bike and the bat in the tall grass next to the footbridge. Crouching, he worked his way down the embankment just a bit.

  Hiro took her post on the top of the bridge, keeping an eye on things to the south. Kirchoff Road was clearly visible. A moment later Gordy stood opposite of her, keeping an eyeball peeled toward Campbell Street, in the direction from where they’d just come. From this vantage point they’d be able to spot any police cars in the area.

  Cooper checked his watch. 3:35. He sat nearly under the bridge so he wouldn’t be seen by anyone scoping out the park. If the police were patrolling the area, all they’d see was Gordy and Hiro standing on the bridge—and neither of them holding a phone.

  Reaching in his pocket, Cooper pulled out the phone and pressed the power button. The phone came to life, and Cooper’s heart picked up the pace. He fished out the toilet paper tube and made sure the wadding was still inside.

  Hiro leaned over the railing. “You ready for this?”

  Cooper nodded. Another lie. The truth? He was ready to chuck it all. Get away from it somehow. Escape. Be done with this. But just maybe the phone call was his ticket.

  “Are you going to say something about Lunk?”

  Cooper stared at her. “Like what?”

  “Just ask them to check him out. Check his dad out.”

  “We’ll see, okay?” It came out too forceful, too harsh.

  Her lips disappeared in a tight line.

  Great. He’d upset her again. Why couldn’t she leave it alone?

  “How long do you think we have before they can trace this thing?” Cooper wobbled the phone in his hand, trying to get her mind off the comment he’d just made.

  Hiro shook her head. “Cell phone? No idea. Keep it short to be safe.”

  Right now he wished he hadn’t given the police a phone number at all. He looked at his watch. “What time do you have, Hiro?”

  “3:37.”

  “Maybe they won’t call.”

  “Give ‘em time.” He hardly dared hope they wouldn’t.

  The phone chirped almost on cue.

  Cooper’s heart lurched. He cleared his throat, and before connecting, practiced saying hello several times, changing his voice a bit more every time he did.

  “Grab it,” Gordy hissed.

  Cooper nodded, put the tube to his mouth, and pressed the button. No turning back now.

  “Hello.” He used the high voice.

  “This is Rolling Meadows Police Detective Richard Hammer. Are you the one who wrote the letter?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do I call you, friend?”

  “Let’s leave it at that.”

  “What?”

  “Friend.”

  Hammer paused slightly. “Okay, Friend.”

  Cooper sunk lower in the grass. “What do you want from me?”

  “Your full cooperation.”

  “That’s why I wrote the letter. You need to find those men.”

  “I want you to come in and talk.”

  “No.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “I told you in the letter. Two of the men wore cop pants. I go to the police, and maybe I end up talking to one of them.”

  “Ridiculous.”

  “I won’t take that chance.” He glanced up at Hiro and Gordy. Both of them were on the same side of the bridge watching him and listening. So much for the lookout plan.

  Hammer sighed. “Get a chest.”

  “What?”

  “Get a chest. Be a man. Come to the police station and help us find these men.”

  Cooper felt his cheeks burning. He wished he’d gone with the low voice. “It’s the phone or nothing. And you’re almost out of time.”

  “Okay,” Hammer said. “You say you were at Frank ‘n Stein’s during the robbery. How is it that they didn’t see you?”

  “I hid behind the counter. I told you that in the letter.”

  “Were you alone?”

  Cooper looked up at Hiro and Gordy. “Yes. Just me.”

  “And you were the one on the bike at the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru?”

  “Yes.”

  “If you’re innocent, why did you take the hard drive for the surveillance cameras?”

  “The guy they called Mr. Lucky disconnected it. I was afraid they’d be able to identify me.”

  “Do you still have it?”

  Cooper hesitated. “Yes.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Hidden where you’ll never find it.”

  “I need that hard drive.”

  “I looked right into the camera. I can’t give it to you.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  Cooper could picture him with the mirrored lenses. “Won’t.”

  Hiro motioned from above him and mouthed Lunk’s name.

  “Listen good,” Hammer said. “I think you’re wasting my time. You didn’t describe anything to me that someone couldn’t see through the window. So you rode your bike to Frank’s and looked in the window before the police came. You saw him laying there and thought you’d get some thrills with your crazy story about men wearing latex masks.”

  Cooper fought back panic. “Know what I think? You might be the man in the Elvis mask.”

  Hammer didn’t say a word. Cooper took it away from his ear for a second and checked the screen to see if the man disconnected.

  Hiro pointed at her watch.

  “Unless you give me that surveillance camera hard drive, how do I know there are any men at all? Maybe you don’t want me to have the drive because there were no other men. Just you. Maybe a couple of friends, too. And you guys got in over your heads.”

  “No, no that isn’t what happened at all.”

  “Only one way to prove that.”

  “Look, you just have to believe me. It’s all true. You need to find those men”

  “How can you prove to me you were really there—that you really saw all you claimed to have witnessed?”

  Was Hammer really questioning whether he was there, or was this a stall tactic? Or an attempt to get him even more nervous so he’d mess up?

  “I was there.” Cooper’s voice sounded more shrill.

  “Give me proof.”

  Gordy motioned with both hands and drew one finger across his throat. “Cut it,” he whispered.

  “What more proof do you need?” Cooper said.

  “Hard drive.”

  “No deal.”

  “I thought you wanted to help us?”

  “They wore masks. I didn’t. The hard drive won’t help you find the robbers, just me. Forget it.”

  Using a high-pitched voice to stand up to a cop seemed incredibly stupid. Like robbing a bank with a squirt gun.

  “Then I’m going to figure this is all some kind of elaborate joke on your part. You weren’t even there. So I’m going to keep looking for the kid who was really there. And I’m going to find you, too.”

  Hiro tapped on her watch furiously. She scampered off the bridge and down the embankment. “Get out,” she whispered.

  He’s stalling me. Cooper looked around, half expecting to see police cars roaring up to the park. “I’ll send you more proof.”

  “When?”

  “Tonight.”

  “What kind of proof?”

  He is stalling.

  “You’ll see.” Cooper pushed the disconnect button and sat there wishing he hadn’t agreed to send more proof.

  Hiro ran toward him the instant he put the phone down. “You should have mentioned Lunk’s dad.”

  Cooper didn’t want to go there. “He kept firing questions at me.”

  “What happened?” Gordy hustled off the bridge and slid down next to him.

  “He wants more proof.” He looked at Hiro. “How long was I on?”

  Her eyes were open wide. “Too long. We should get out of here.”

  The phone rang again
. All three of them jumped. Hammer calling back, no doubt. Or maybe it was the Herald. Cooper turned off the power. He wasn’t sure how it all worked with cell phones, but what if they could still track him as long as the phone was on?

  “Get down,” Gordy shouted. “Police.”

  The three dropped as low as they could. Cooper peered through the tall weeds and grass. A Rolling Meadows Police car prowled down Campbell Street and pulled to the side of the road a couple hundred yards away, effectively blocking the most direct way home.

  CHAPTER 31

  Think he saw us?” Cooper strained to see.

  “I don’t know,” Gordy said. “What’s he doing there?”

  “Calling for backup?” Hiro’s voice sounded as tiny as she was.

  “Great.” Cooper hugged the ground. Smelled the cool earth below his face. Wished he could burrow in somehow. Tunnel his way home.

  Gordy shifted. “What now?”

  “Keep still,” Hiro said.

  The police car didn’t move. Was he watching them? If backup arrived, their chances of getting away would go way down.

  Cooper raced through his options. If they took off now, there was only one cop to chase them, but then again maybe the cop wasn’t even looking for them. To make a run for it now may tip him off. Sit tight and wait might be the smarter thing to do. But that didn’t make it any easier.

  Only a handful of people were in the park. If the three of them took off together, they’d certainly be noticed.

  “Listen,” Hiro said. She cocked her head in the direction of Kirchoff Road behind them.

  A siren.

  Cooper turned to get a visual. A squad car raced down the busy street, lights flashing.

  Coincidence? Or maybe this was backup on the way. If he stopped on Kirchoff, they’d be blocked to the North and the South.

  “What do we do?” Gordy poked his head up like a gopher. “They’re going to box us in here or something.”

  “What do you think, Hiro?” Cooper regretted asking her the moment the words left his mouth. He knew what she wanted. A white flag.

  “If we try to run, they’ll catch us,” she said.

  Cooper army-crawled his way partially up the embankment for a better view. Gordy and Hiro’s bikes were propped against the bridge. His lay on its side. Hugging the ground like it was trying to find cover too. His bat lay next to it. The police car on Campbell hadn’t moved.

  “Okay,” Cooper said. “Plan B.” He dug the baseball out of his pocket. “We go up there and play a little ball. I’ll bat, you two field.”

  Hiro didn’t say anything, but the way she played with her braid he figured she was working out the pros and cons in her head.

  “We hide in plain sight,” Cooper said. “We won’t look as suspicious as we would riding away on our bikes.”

  Gordy grabbed Cooper’s leg like he didn’t want to be left behind. “How do we explain why we were down here by the creek?”

  Cooper held up the ball. “Fishing the ball out.” He looked at each of them and hoped he didn’t look as scared at they did. Gordy had that wide-eyed guilty-as-sin look. “Ready?”

  Cooper turned a shoebox-sized rock over and scooped out a hollow in the cool earth under it. He fished the phone out of his pocket, placed it in the hole and shifted the rock back in place. If he did get stopped and questioned, the phone might be his death warrant. Literally.

  “Here we go.” Cooper said a silent prayer, took a couple of deep breaths, and stood up. He fought the urge to look at the police car. His periphery vision would be enough to warn him if the car made a move.

  Strolling up the embankment slow and easy, he picked up his bat and shouldered it. “C’mon you two,” he called. The police car didn’t move, but he could feel the cop watching him.

  Gordy and Hiro climbed the embankment at the same time.

  “Take the field.” Cooper pointed with the bat like he was Babe Ruth. “Hurry.”

  Gordy and Hiro took off at a jog, and Cooper batted one over their heads. The smack of the bat worked like a starting gun, kicking Gordy into his competitive mode. He opened up the throttle and took off after the ball.

  Gordy relayed it to Hiro, and she tossed it back to Cooper.

  He took another swing, and sent the ball on another flight. Leaning on the bat, he watched Gordy hustle for the ball.

  “We have more company,” Hiro said. “This one has its lights flashing.”

  Cooper forced himself not to turn around. Told himself to act normal. He wiped slick hands on his jeans to get a better grip, and knocked a half dozen more out into the field.

  “They’re gone,” Hiro said.

  Cooper dropped the bat and leaned his hands on his knees. Gordy and Hiro hustled up.

  Gordy’s face looked as white as the baseball. “Where do you think they went?”

  “My guess?” Hiro put her hands on her hips. “They’re cruising the neighborhood.”

  Gordy looked toward Campbell Street. “Maybe we should stay here awhile.”

  Cooper nodded. “Then I need to write another letter to Hammer.” He gave them a quick rundown of the conversation with the police detective.

  Hiro and Gordy hustled back to field more balls. It gave Cooper time to think. After nearly fifteen minutes he motioned them back.

  “So what’s the plan?” Gordy handed Cooper the baseball. “How are you going to give them more proof without the hard drive?”

  “More details, for starts.” Cooper said. “What was in Frank’s pockets. The name of the book in my backpack.” He watched Hiro. “Then I’ll tell them that my prints should be on the knife that was laying on the floor with the coins from the change drawer.”

  “Which,” Hiro said, “should be all the proof they’ll need. All they’ll have to do is match the prints on the knife handle to the prints all over the letter.”

  “Exactly,” Cooper said. “And just to make sure they don’t come back and ask for proof again, I’ll give them the clincher.”

  Hiro gave him a sideways glance.

  Cooper smiled and looked from one to the other. “When I left Frank ‘n Stein’s that night, I still had Frank’s keys.”

  Gordy’s eyebrows went up as he nodded. “You locked the door.”

  “So,” Hiro said. “You’ll write that you have Frank’s keys.” She pushed her hands in her pockets. “All they have to do is ask Mr. Stein and he’ll verify the keys are missing. That will prove you were really there, in the diner.”

  “Then the cops can concentrate on finding the robbers.” Cooper glanced at Hiro. He hoped she’d smile at him. Show some support. Approval. Her face didn’t give him a clue as to what she was thinking. He still hadn’t straightened things out from last night. Then again, until the robbers got caught, how could he really straighten any of this out?

  “If I were a cop,” Hiro said, “and I knew you were going to write another letter tonight, I’d stake out the library.”

  Gordy whistled. “You think the cop asked for more proof just to set a trap?”

  She reached up and held the police star necklace. “Could be.”

  “Great,” Cooper said. He imagined himself dropping the letter in the book depository and police swarming in from all over. Or worse yet, maybe just a couple cops—wearing latex masks. “So we’ll pick a new drop spot.”

  “Yeah,” Gordy said. “Throw ‘em off guard. Any ideas?”

  Cooper shook his head. “But we’ll think of something.” He picked up his bike, crossed the bridge, and started walking toward the edge of the park like he was in no hurry at all. Gordy and Hiro did the same. Only when they reached Campbell Road did he mount his bike.

  Cooper rode between the two of them as they headed back. They decided a slow ride would look less suspicious. Gordy struggled with it. Riding ahead, circling back. Getting ahead again. Cooper thought about taking this chance to talk to Hiro. To tell her he was sorry about last night. But the thought of writing the new letter kept getting in the way. />
  “I went to see Frank again today.” Hiro said it so quietly it almost sounded like she was talking to herself.

  Guilt settled in immediately. She’d been to see Frank twice. He hadn’t even gone once.

  “So you weren’t sick at all?” Gordy glanced at Cooper.

  “Sick of worrying somebody is going to kill Coop, or one of us. Sick of the lies.” Hiro didn’t make eye contact with Cooper. “I didn’t feel like going to school.”

  Cooper coasted to a stop. “And you think I did?”

  Hiro braked and put one foot down. “I don’t know, Coop. It seems like lies aren’t bothering you much these days.”

  Her comment stung. Who was she to judge him? She’d ditched them at school today. Wasn’t there to help. Maybe she deserved the way he treated her last night. “Your mom let you stay home from school even though you weren’t really sick?”

  Hiro studied the pavement. “I just told her I was sick. And after she left for work I biked to the hospital.”

  Cooper tried not to let his frustration show. “And they let you see him by yourself?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, but had a distant look in her eyes like she was still in the hospital room.

  Gordy was quiet, but after a moment, he whispered, “How did he look?”

  She shook her head slightly, like she was forcing herself out of a daze. “The same.”

  Cooper saw the scene in the reflection of Frank ‘n Stein’s window all over again. Frank getting beaten nearly to death. He pulled the baseball out of his pocket and picked at the stitches. “Did they say anything? The nurses?”

  “Not to me. But they act like he’s going to get better.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “They talk to him.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Whenever they came into the room they’d say things like, ‘Hiya, Frank. You’re looking good, honey. You ready to get up soon?’”

  Cooper had it pictured in his mind. “Did he move or anything?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Whoa,” Gordy said. “Like he’s in a coma or something.”

  Hiro tapped him on the forehead. “He is in a coma.”

  Gordy’s face got red. “Well, yeah, I know that.”