Rodriguez looked at him, said,
“There’s that I guess.”
If you police an armed society, you learn to shoot first or you’re dead.
Twenty-Four
I was sitting at me desk, a Starbucks vanilla-flavored latte before me and the frigging beads in me right hand.
Where did he get it?
And, as if on cue, the phone rang, I picked up, heard,
“Lieutenant Shea, we may have a major break in the case.”
The fucking writer.
I kept me voice neutral, asked,
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah, Lucia, your partner’s sister, she’s regained consciousness and I’m meeting her tomorrow, she might be able to tell us who attacked her and if it wasn’t that guy... Gino...?”
I tried to stay calm, said,
“Wow, how about if I come along with you tomorrow, make it official?”
“That would be great, around nine o’clock... that suit you?”
“Perfect.”
Click.
Fuck... fuck... Jesus, if she was able to talk... I swept the damn paper cup off me desk... I hate fucking vanilla... then began to calm down, hey, I’d the evening free, and man, I sure wanted another shot at her, and who knew, maybe the stuck-up nurse would be on duty, do her too...
I grabbed my jacket, ran into Rodriguez in the hall, who asked,
“What’s up?”
I said,
“There’s a mess in my office, get it cleaned up.”
Come night, I go to the hospital, wearing doctor’s scrubs, even a stethoscope, and fuck, I was so zoned, pure energy flying me on.
Found her room in jig time and there she was.
Radiant.
In that half light they use in hospitals.
Her white neck... gleaming.
I pulled the blankets back.
Odd?
She looked fairly fucking comatose.
Probably the drugs.
What the fuck ever.
Snapped my medal off her neck and then got out the beads, wrapped it round her gorgeous throat and then... heard the sound of a gun being racked.
Turned to face Rodriguez, the fucking writer behind him, and in the corridor a whole bunch of uniforms, he said,
“Back away real slow, asshole.”
I wasn’t going to let the prick take me beads and moved to get them and was slammed against the wall.
He shot me?
Me?
The blood was gurgling in my throat and I tried to say,
“But I’m a cop...”
The writer was staring at me with pure malevolence and I wanted to tell him,
“I did the others but not Nora... I swear.”
Heard Rodriguez say,
“The fuck is begging for help.”
I didn’t see any of them rush to get it.
The fuck is with that?
After, as Joe stood outside, his ears still ringing from the gunshots, he was joined by Rodriguez. He stared at the cop, his anger barely controlled, asked,
“Why did you have to take him out?”
Rodriguez shook his head, said,
“You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a cop?”
Joe didn’t get it, said,
“I don’t get it, what’s that got to do with you wasting him?”
Rodriguez faced him, his eyes a hard hue, said,
“The police department has enough bad press, you think we wanted Shea in a courtroom, the hero cop, on view to the whole world, best for all if he went down.”
Joe wanted to wallop him, felt his fists curl, and before he could reply, Rodriguez said,
“I thought you’d be happy to see your sister’s killer buy the farm?”
Joe took a deep breath, said,
“That was an execution.”
Rodriguez turned to move away, said,
“No, it was expediency.”
Epilogue
Joe was back in Miami a month now and couldn’t settle, dammit all to hell, he had New York back in his blood, despite the cold, the traffic and all the usual stuff.
Plus, he couldn’t get Maria off his mind, he’d given her his cell phone number and she promised to stay in touch. He was glad that his scenario about her might not be that far-fetched after all, just maybe she felt something too.
He was trying to put together a piece on all that had happened when his cell shrilled, he flipped the cover open, said,
“Yeah?”
“Joe, it’s Maria.”
God, he couldn’t believe how happy he was to hear her but before he could say anything, she near screamed, barely containing her hysteria,
“Joe, Dios mio, one of the nurses has been strangled, the police say it is a copycat but he used a green rosary and last night when I got home, on my pillow was a gold ring, it had two hands holding a heart, I am so scared.”
Joe, stunned for a minute, realizing it had to be Nora’s ring, they’d never found it. He said,
“I’ll be on the next flight.”
She asked,
“But your job?”
He nearly smiled, said,
“Screw the job.”