Black Magic

by Steven Henry

  She’d swung by home to drop off Rolf; for this job, she needed the back of her car empty.

  The 49th Precinct in the Bronx was an intimidating stack of bricks, larger and in better repair than Erin’s own Eightball. Erin thought it looked almost like a military bunker, or maybe a prison.

  The desk sergeant directed her to the Auto Crimes division, where she found Detective Curtiss, a stocky, balding man in a suit a little too small for him. He gave her half a glance.

  “Okay, be right with you, ma’am,” he said. He returned his attention to his computer screen.

  Erin raised her eyebrows and waited.

  “All right,” he said without looking up. “Make and model?”

  “Excuse me?”

  He sighed. “Your car, lady. What’s the make and model?”

  “Sir, my name’s Erin O’Reilly,” she said. “I’m with NYPD Major Crimes, Detective Second Grade. If you’re not too busy, there’s something I’d like your help with.”

  That got his attention. Curtiss pushed his chair back from his desk. “Sorry, Detective,” he said, standing up and offering his hand. “This neighborhood, a white woman walks into Auto Crimes out of uniform, I just assumed—”

  “Forget about it,” she said, shaking hands. “I drive a Charger, in case you’re wondering.”

  He laughed. “Not stolen, I hope.”

  “Nope. Department-issue.”

  “What can I do for you, Detective?”

  “We sent you a guy, Hugo Bucklington. Grand Theft Auto. A kid, too, name of Devon James.”

  “Right,” Curtiss said. “Thanks for that. They’ve been running a chop shop for a while, cutting up a lot of hot wheels.” He laughed again. “He’s cooperating nicely. We’re looking to bust up several street crews with what he’s giving us. He plays his cards right, he hits the street again in six months and we nail half a dozen professional car thieves.”

  “Great,” Erin said. “I was actually wondering about his dog.”

  “His what?”

  “His junkyard dog. Big, black, furry, answers to Ripper when he feels like it?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Curtiss said. “That. You sure it’s a dog?”

  “Pretty sure. Where is he?”

  Curtiss shrugged. “We handed it off to a local shelter. The kid, Devon, told us his brother would take him, but the brother ran off when a uniform went looking for him. Turns out the brother had warrants on him, too.”

  “Which shelter?” Erin asked.

  Curtiss scribbled the address on a Post-it and handed it to her.

  “Thanks,” she said, turning to go.

  “Detective,” he called.

  She paused. “What?”

  “You drove all the way up from, where, Precinct 8?”

  “Yeah.”

  “For a dog?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s so important about it?”

  Erin smiled thinly. “I’m a K-9 cop, Detective.”

  When she got to the animal shelter, she immediately knew she should have gotten there faster. It was a filthy, noisy dump of a place. Litter was strewn carelessly around an overflowing trash can out front. The whole area stank of dog shit and urine. Dogs barked on all sides, their voices overlapping one another.

  Erin wouldn’t have put hardened murderers in a place like that. Dog lover that she was, it was all she could do to keep herself under control and walk in the front door.

  “We’re just about to close,” said the tired-looking woman at the front desk.

  “This won’t take long,” Erin said. “I’m looking for Ripper.”

  “Ripper?”

  “Black, shaggy mixed-breed, dropped off by the police.”

  “Oh, yeah, I remember him,” the woman said. “Nasty piece of work. Tried to bite our handler.”

  Erin’s heart skipped a beat. “What happened to him?”

  “He’s fine. Dog missed him.”

  “Not the handler,” she said through gritted teeth. “The dog.”

  “Oh, right. They put him down.”

  “They what?” Erin’s fists were clenched at her sides.

  The woman gave her a look of weary contempt. “Save it, sister. This place holds a hundred and fifty animals. We’ve got a budget that lets us take good care of maybe a hundred. Last week, we had two hundred to keep track of. We’ll place maybe thirty of those. The rest get put down. A junkyard dog with a biting problem? He wouldn’t have a chance of getting adopted.”

  “When did it happen?”

  The woman shrugged. “They brought him in last night, after close. The vet just came in about a half hour ago. There’s a long list to work through. It’ll be any minute.”

  “Where is he now?” Erin snapped.

  “Look, sister, I don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t—”

  Erin put her shield in the woman’s face. “NYPD,” she interrupted. “Now where’s the vet?”

  “Down the back hallway, take the last left.”

  Erin was gone, running in the direction the woman indicated. She passed a line of dog pens. The dogs, excited by her motion, jumped up and put their paws on the chain-link fencing, barking even more furiously than before. She ignored them, making for the door at the end of the hall.

  She burst in on a veterinarian, a dog handler, and Ripper. They had him up on the table. He was lying quietly, and the vet was poised with a syringe. The dog wasn’t moving, and for a moment she thought she was too late. Then she saw the syringe was still full.

  “Stop!” she shouted.

  “Who are you?” the handler demanded.

  “You can’t just come in here,” the vet said. “We’re in the middle of a delicate operation.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she said. “You’re killing that dog.”

  “I’m doing the most humane thing possible, under the circumstances,” the vet said. “He’s been sedated, so he won’t feel anything. Now I’m just going to inject him, and he’ll go quietly, in his sleep.”

  “That’s not gonna happen,” Erin said.

  “This animal is vicious,” the handler said. “He can’t be adopted.”

  “And your shelter is overcrowded,” she said. “I know. So I’ll take him off your hands.”

  “You’re not listening, ma’am,” the handler said. “This is a liability issue. If you take him, and he bites you, we could get sued.”

  “I’m with the NYPD K-9 unit,” she said. “So yeah, I know all about lawyers. But I don’t like them very much. Just give me the damn dog and I’ll get out of your hair.”

  “There’s an adoption fee—” the handler started.

  That was when Erin lost her temper. “You’re five seconds from killing this dog, and now you want to charge me for him?” she snapped. “Here.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out her wallet, grabbed the first bill she found in it, and slapped it down on the table next to Ripper’s sleeping body. It was a twenty. “That do you? You happy?”

  Both people stared at her. Neither said anything.

  Erin scooped up the dog in her arms. His dead weight made a large, smelly armful, but she didn’t ask for help. She turned and started walking out the door.

  “Why this one?” the vet asked. “Ma’am, I have to put down dozens of dogs. You can’t take all of them.”

  “If I let myself think that way,” she said, “I’d never get out of bed in the morning.”

  She put Ripper in the K-9 compartment in the back of her car. So far, she’d been going on instinct and emotion. Now she needed a plan. She thought for a minute, then pulled out her phone.

  “Hey, Shelley?”

  “Erin!” Michelle said. “Did you get your man?”

  “Yeah, we made an arrest.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I was talking about the guy you’ve been seeing.”

  “Oh. No, I’m not seeing anyone.”

  “Why not?”

  “Shelley, that’s not why I’m calling.”

  “I kn
ow. But it’s on your mind.”

  “Can we talk about this later?”

  “When?”

  Erin closed her eyes. “Just later, okay? Right now I’ve got a junkyard dog passed out in the back of my squad car.”

  “Is that code for something?”

  “No, it’s an actual dog. And he doesn’t smell too good. I’m already gonna have to hose out the back of the car before I put Rolf back in it.”

  “Erin, are you sidelining as a dogcatcher now?”

  “No.” Erin explained the situation with Ripper. “He doesn’t have anywhere to go,” she finished. “The vet was about to shoot him up with poison when I got there. I had to get him out of there.”

  “Is he really a sweet dog at heart?”

  “No more than any other dog,” Erin said. “He’s kind of a mean, ugly son of a bitch, when you get down to it. But that doesn’t rate a death sentence. He needs some retraining, and a strong guiding hand, but he could be a good enough dog. If you know a decent no-kill shelter we could put him at while I figure something out...”

  “Of course,” Michelle said. “Anna’s really been on me about that puppy, so I’ve started doing some research. Just in case. There’s a place just up the street. I’ll give them a call. Come on down.”

  “Yeah, I remembered what you said at lunch about getting a dog. That’s why I called you. Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it. You can pay me back.”

  Erin rolled her eyes. “I bet I can guess how.”

  “All I want is information, sis.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you, once we get Ripper taken care of.”

  “That’s his name? For real?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “We’ll tell the shelter folks he’s named Roger. How’s that sound?”

  “Good idea, Shelley.”

  Erin hung up and shot Ripper a look. He was lying on his side, his tongue hanging half out of his mouth. He was giving off an indescribable odor.

  “You better be worth it, big guy,” she said.

  Chapter 20

  “That,” Michelle said, “was the ugliest dog I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  Erin smiled. They were at a bistro just down the street from Ripper’s new temporary home, after grabbing a quick dinner. Michelle had a soy mocha latte in front of her. Erin had a basic cup of coffee, cream, no sugar. “I dunno,” she said. “He kind of grows on you.”

  “What kind of dog is he, anyway?” Michelle asked.

  “Beats me. Something big and shaggy, crossed with a Doberman, I guess. Maybe part grizzly bear or wolverine.”

  Michelle laughed. “I hope he finds a good home, with someone who appreciates his... unique qualities.”

  “He’s not a bad dog,” Erin said quietly. “There’s no such thing.”

  “You like dogs better than people, don’t you.”

  “On average? Yeah.”

  “Why’d you save this one?”

  Erin stared into her coffee cup. “I don’t know.”

  “Yes you do.”

  “Is this an interrogation, Shelley?”

  Michelle smiled. “If you cooperate now, we’ll go easy on you.”

  “I’ve heard that before,” Erin said. “Hell, I’ve said it before.”

  “So why’d you go out of your way for one ugly mutt?”

  “Maybe it’s that he was only there because I arrested his owner,” she said. “So that made it my fault, a little. Maybe it’s that he wagged his tail when I left him at the junkyard. I think I saw the good boy inside, trying to get out in spite of everything.”

  Michelle nodded. “Sean tells me doctors sometimes develop a bit of a God complex, choosing who lives and who dies. He says it’s dangerous, especially in the ER. Are police officers like that, too?”

  Erin shrugged. “I guess we’re a lot like docs. We see all the worst people can do to each other, and we try to straighten out what we can. I can’t save everyone, sure. But I could save Ripper... Roger, I mean. And just because I couldn’t save all the other dogs didn’t mean I had an excuse to let this one die. I don’t think that makes me God.”

  “No, I guess not,” Michelle said. “But you think Roger’s got a chance?”

  “As good as a lot of dogs.”

  “How about your mystery man?”

  “What?”

  “Does he have a chance? With you?”

  Erin glared at her. “You just don’t give up.”

  “Nope,” Michelle said, unrepentant. “Erin, you’re not good at being mysterious. What’s the deal with this guy? Are you ashamed of him?”

  “Shelley, I’m not seeing him. It’s... it’s complicated.”

  “Oh!” she exclaimed. “He’s married! You naughty girl!”

  “No!”

  Michelle frowned. “Okay, so... he’s somebody famous. A celebrity.”

  “No.”

  “Erin, don’t make me guess. I’ve got a long list of possibilities, and I swear, I’ll go through every one of them.”

  Erin sighed. “Okay, Shelley, here’s the thing. If any of this gets out at work, I could get in trouble. I’m serious.”

  Michelle held up one hand. “I swear, I won’t tell a single soul.”

  Erin believed her. Michelle loved to hear about people, but she wasn’t big on gossiping to others. If she swore herself to secrecy, she meant it.

  “I met this guy through work, okay?” Erin said, not quite sure how to begin.

  “Another officer?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, gosh,” Michelle said. “Is he a family member of a victim? Did his wife get murdered?”

  “Shelley! No!” Erin exclaimed. Then she paused. “Well, actually, yeah, his wife did get murdered. But that was years ago, long before I met him.”

  “So, how did you meet?”

  “He was a suspect, if you gotta know.”

  Michelle’s eyes got wide. “Really?”

  Erin nodded. “He didn’t do it. The thing we were looking at, I mean. The problem is, he’s done some other stuff.”

  “Erin. You’re in love with a criminal?”

  “I didn’t say that!” she snapped.

  “Well?” Michelle asked. “Are you, though?”

  “I don’t know,” Erin said. “But I’m pretty sure he’s in love with me.”

  “Is he a basically good guy, who’s done some bad things? Or is he bad right through?”

  “He’s...” Erin paused.

  “Complicated?” Michelle prompted.

  “Yeah.” She sighed again. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this. He helped out with a couple of things, I helped him a little, we became friends... God, what was I thinking? He’s a gangster, Shelley! I may have to arrest him someday!”

  “So why are you even thinking about it?”

  “Because he’s... him. He talks to me like no one else does. He’s polite, he’s smart, he respects me. I… I trust him, in spite of everything.”

  “Is he hot?”

  “Shelley!”

  “It’s a valid question,” Michelle said. “Have the two of you... you know...”

  “Something happened after the thing at the Civic Center,” Erin said. “Without his help, we might not have been in time to stop that bomb going off. He probably saved a couple hundred lives. Including mine. I went by his place afterwards, we talked, and then...”

  “And then...?” Michelle echoed.

  “You’ve got no shame at all,” Erin said. “You watch a lot of reality TV, don’t you?”

  “All the time,” Michelle said cheerfully. “I’m a housewife, Erin. I’ve got no life of my own, so I have to take it where I find it.”

  “He kissed me.”

  “You kiss him back?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How was it?”

  “It was good,” Erin admitted. “Until I remembered what was going on and got myself the hell out of there.”

  “You kissed him and then ran away?”

 
; “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “Wow.” Michelle shook her head. “What’d he do about it?”

  “He tried to call a few times. I blocked his number.”

  “That’s pretty cold.”

  “Hey, whose side are you on here?”

  “I have a pre-teen daughter. I watch a lot of Disney movies. I’m on the side of Prince Charming and true love.”

  “I see,” Erin said dryly. “Then you’ll be pleased to hear, he showed up a couple days ago and said he wasn’t going to give me up without a fight.”

  “Erin, that is so romantic!”

  “And annoying,” Erin retorted. “What am I supposed to do with a guy like that?”

  “What do you want, an instruction manual? See, when a boy and a girl really, really like each other…”

  “It’s not gonna work, Shelley.”

  “Why not?”

  “A criminal and a cop? This is more Shakespeare than Disney, Shelley. This is some Romeo and Juliet shit. That’s a story that doesn’t end with ‘they all lived happily ever after.’”

  Michelle leaned back in her chair. “Sounds like you’ve made up your mind. I just have one more question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If you’re so sure, why is it still bothering you?”

  Erin opened her mouth. She closed it again.

  “Well?” Michelle drummed her fingers on the tabletop.

  “Because,” Erin said. She felt a slow smile form on her face. “Because I want it to work, damn it all. And I do want him.”

  “You think you can save him? Like Ripper?”

  She shook her head. “No. He’ll have to save himself.” She stood up. “Thanks for the help with the dog, Shelley. I have to go.”

  Michelle grinned. “You’re going for it.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Sis, it’s a good thing you’re a good cop, because you’d be a lousy card player.”

  “I said, shut up.”

  “Go on, Erin. I’m cheering for you, remember.”

  A little laugh burst out of Erin. It was impossible to be mad at Michelle.

  “You’ll have to let me meet this guy sometime,” Michelle said. “He must be something special.”

  “Yeah. He is.”

  Erin placed the call on her way home. The phone rang four times. She was trying to decide what she’d say if it went to voicemail when he picked up.