Decker nodded, leaving the family alone to grieve. Out of deference to their needs for privacy and more than a little of his own fear. Because witnessing such abject pain was a very hard thing to do.
33
“Are you sure you want to be here?” Marge asked.
Decker flexed his elbow, wriggled his fingers, and winced. “I’m not saying I feel great. But since I can write, I might as well work.” He shook his head. “Better here than being at home. It’s been hell this past week.”
“How’s Rina?”
Decker thought about the question. “She’s…functioning.”
“Should I send her a condolence card or something?”
“I think she’d appreciate a call. You go to Polinski’s arraignment yesterday?”
“No, I didn’t go. Tom and Bert went. Scott and I spent the day going over Waterson’s confession tape.”
“Everything okay?”
“Seems to be pretty clean,” Marge said. “I think he’ll be a very credible witness for the state. I think the DA’s going for the death penalty for Polinski.”
“Fine.”
“My opinion? Waterson and Dolores deserve it as much as Polinski does. Maybe even more.”
“Maybe.”
“They might not have pulled the trigger physically, but they arranged the murder…murders. At least, Waterson did. Calling up Polinski, telling him to meet Azor in the back alley of Tracadero’s. Asshole set the whole thing up.”
“True.”
“And Dolores…” Marge shook her head. “What a cold-blooded bitch. Sets up her husband and his colleague, then literally shoots her own son. Two guns on her, mind you. An extra in case the first one jams, the psycho. The kids have hired some hotshot psychiatrist to the tune of God knows how much money…” She paused. “I guess they can afford it. Anyway, the court sends her to a hospital. I say, in lieu of electroshock, how about the electric chair.”
Decker ran his left hand through his hair. “She might agree with you.”
“Bullshit. They all start off remorseful. Within a very short period of time, it’s ‘I don’t want to die. Save my fucking ass!’ I wouldn’t lose any sleep if they fried her.”
Decker nodded.
“Fried her big time.”
“Whatever.”
Marge paused. “You’re being rather mysterious.”
“I’m in pain.”
No one spoke for a moment.
“Why don’t you call it a day?” Marge said.
“No, I’ll slug it out. I’m a man. I can’t admit weakness.”
Marge smiled.
Decker said, “When’s Berger going before the grand jury?”
“Originally, they had him down for next week. But the FBI keeps finding stuff. Apparently, Fisher/Tyne has not only been monkeying around with data-which is federal offense because they’ve been hacking into computer data banks cross-country-but the company’s also been covering up dubious results and negative side effects of their test drugs.”
“How?”
“They discount side effects as anomalies or just plain disregard the data. Ignore it. If a doctor says anything about the outrageous practice, the company hits the MD with a slander suit. Keeps the doc tied up with expensive litigation that encourages others to keep their mouths shut.”
“That’s not illegal?”
“Nope. But bribing is. FBI’s uncovered incentive bribes for looking the other way. Shockley is up to his ears. Scott has had the last laugh.”
She paused.
“Course that doesn’t bring Kenneth Leonard back to life. Poor guy. He finally decides to do the right thing and gets mowed down. Talk about bad timing.”
“Ironic,” Decker said. “Whole thing might never have been discovered if Azor hadn’t been murdered.” He exhaled forcefully. “And his murder had nothing at all to do with Fisher/Tyne.”
“It always boils down to a personal thing, doesn’t it?”
“Usually.”
Marge’s eyes met his. “Are you mad at me, Pete?”
“Mad at you?”
“For crapping out on you.”
“What are you talking about?”
Marge sat down at Decker’s desk across from him. “When you called me over to help Bram, I hesitated. I didn’t want to do it.”
“It’s understandable. You weren’t gloved.”
“Neither were you.”
Decker shrugged. “Thinking about it later on, I wondered if I did the right thing by yelling at you to come over. There’d been rumors that he was gay. Suppose he was HIV positive.”
“Yet you didn’t think twice about it, did you?”
“Rightly or wrongly, no, I didn’t.”
“I really admire you.”
“Nothing to admire. Like I told Michael Sparks, I didn’t think, I just did what I’d been trained to do.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Decker smiled. “You’re imparting undeserved nobility to my character.”
Marge said, “His blood was clean.”
“Thank God,” Decker said. “I’m not saying Bram’s death has a silver lining. In fact, the whole thing is simply an ugly, useless tragedy. But…”
He swallowed.
“But it does give you pause for thought. Life is short. When Rina feels like joining the human race again, I’m going to take a few days off.”
“Don’t be too radical, Pete.”
“Nah, never. I’m Joe American Dad, Margie. Mr. Straitlaced, Middle-Aged Fart.”
“You’re not that bad.”
“No, actually, I’m not. But I gotta act the part.” He grinned. “Otherwise my boys’ll have nothing to rebel against.”
Ginger’s barking woke Decker up from a luxurious Sunday nap. He arose from his living room couch, rolling his shoulders to relieve them of stiffness. Stretched a moment. It hurt. He gave his hair a cursory comb with his fingers, then answered the knock on the door.
Eerie seeing Luke. At present, garbed in black, his weight loss, his longer hair, and his glasses, he looked indistinguishable from Bram. As if that entire ordeal had been just a terrible nightmare.
“Did I wake you, Lieutenant?”
“Uh…no; the dog did.” Decker smiled. “It’s okay.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Not too bad.”
“Sorry to bother you at home.”
“How’s your family?”
“Fucked.”
Decker said nothing.
“Sorry, but it’s the truth,” Luke said. “I could lie, say that Abram’s death made us closer, made us appreciate one another. But the sad thing is…we’re the same people. Worse. Because we lost our family glue. And the world lost a truly good man.”
He looked down, then up.
“Ain’t a day that has gone by…when I haven’t looked in the mirror…and pretended my reflection was him. Most of the time, when I reach out at it and feel that cold, slick surface, reality just slaps me across the face. But then there are times…times when my fingers melt with his…”
Luke rubbed his green eyes under his glasses. He smiled coldly. “Maybe that’s drugs talking.”
Decker waited a beat, then said, “What can I do you for, Mr. Sparks?”
“Actually, I came to see your wife. Is she home?”
Decker paused. “I’ll go get her. You want to come in?”
“No, thanks, I’ll just wait here.”
Luke tore into his thumbnail as he waited. A moment later, Rina appeared, a child of around three riding her hip. A real looker that woman was even with the scarf covering her hair. Made her even more desirable. He had a sudden urge to rip it off and see what was underneath.
“Hello,” Rina said.
“Mrs. Decker…” Luke’s eyes moved sideways. “Thanks for seeing me.”
Rina waited. Her husband was still with her. Luke glanced at him and said nothing.
Decker relieved Rina of the baby. “Come on, Hannah Rosie. Let’s go play in the orchard.”
“Your shoulder, Peter. Let her walk.”
“I’m fine.” To Luke, Decker said, “Excuse us.”
“Can I pick the oranges, Daddy?” Hannah asked.
“Yes, you can pick the oranges.”