“This is false arrest!” bellowed Mullet-man from his own cell.
“Pipe down,” his escort barked, pointing a meaty finger at him.
“I know my rights!” Mullet-man screamed back at him.
“I ain’t no cop and you ain’t got no rights in here,” growled the escort.“Now shut-up or I’m coming in there with you.”
Mullet-man’s face paled slightly.He wiped blood from his nose and mouth and looked at his hand.His gaze found me and he pointed.“You’re dead, asshole,” he promised.
“Funny how I’m still breathing,” I shot back.“Pretty good trick for a dead man.”
“I’ll kick your ass.I’ll — “
“I told you to be quiet!” bellowed his escort.His eyes darted between us.“And I mean both of you.”
Mullet-man turned away and muttered like a defiant child.I rubbed my shoulder and flexed my arm. My fingers grazed across the hard scars under my shirt.Even though the injuries were ten years old, they still hurt every day.Getting into a brawl and then being hauled around by extras from a Schwarzenegger movie didn’t exactly help.
“Stef?”
I glanced up at the Security Chief.He stood at the door of my cell, watching me.
“Are you Stefan Kopriva?” he asked.
I nodded.“Yeah.So?”
“I thought it was you.”
“I know you?”
“Yeah,” he said.“I mean, you did.Matt Sinderling. We went to school together.”
I looked at him closely.I remembered the name.Matt Sinderling.The rolodex in my mind flipped through a hundred pictures and a hundred biographies in a couple of seconds.Then I remembered him.
Vaguely.
He’d been one of those guys in high school who never said three words all the way through.I tried to remember who his friends were and couldn’t.He’d taken wood shop and metal shop, but didn’t hang out with the stoners.I couldn’t remember him being in any sports.He’d just been a guy I’d passed in the halls or maybe sat near in English class.
Matt didn’t seem to have grown into a man’s body.He still had the slight frame of a seventeen year old late bloomer.Only the whisper of gray at his temples and the lines near his eyes gave away his age.
“You don’t remember me,” he said.
“No, I do.”
“Nah, you don’t.It’s okay.I get that a lot.I wasn’t exactly Mister Popular back in high school.”
“I do remember you.” I waved my hand at the cell.“I guess I’m just embarrassed to be here.”
He nodded his understanding.“I heard you became a cop.Is this going to be a problem for you?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mullet-man’s head whip around to stare at me.I could almost hear his worried thoughts. I decided to let him sweat for a little while longer.
“It’ll work out,” I told Matt.
“I hope so.”He bit the inside of his lip and looked at me.Finally, he said, “Kinda weird running into you now.”
I shrugged.
“Maybe…” he said, “Maybe you can help me with something.”
I didn’t answer right away.Behind Matt, a uniformed officer approached the security station.All hockey games have an extra duty officer working for instances like the one I just got involved in.It’s a good gig and pays well.The waiting list to get on the detail is about eight years long.
I recognized the officer right away and he recognized me a moment later.Glen Bates had been a Field Training Officer when I came on the job.He probably had at least five years on then.I did a quick bit of math and figured him to be near twenty years on by now.And he still had a toothpick stuck in the corner of his mouth.
He squinted at me.“Kopriva?That you?”
Mullet-man was at the door as soon as Bates came into view.“I want to make a complaint, officer.”He pointed at me.“This cop attacked me.Look at my face.I think he broke my nose.”
Bates looked back and forth between Mullet-man and me, shaking his head slightly.
“I mean it,” Mullet-man continued.“I want to make a complaint against the police department!”
Bates removed the toothpick and glanced at it briefly before tucking it back into the corner of his mouth.“Really?A complaint, huh?”
Mullet-man maintained his polite facade.“That’s right, officer.”
Bates thumbed towards me.“Against him?”
“Yeah, man.Look at me.”
Bates nodded and made a sucking noise with his teeth.Then he glanced over at Matt.“What’s the story here?”
Matt waved Bates over. Bates strode to him.He watched us while Matt whispered to him.I wonder whose account ending up being accepted as truth.Mullet-man’s cronies?The bus driver?Or did they manage to get a couple of uninvolved witnesses who saw Mullet-man come barreling over the rows of seats to get to me?
Bates gave no indication as he listened carefully to Matt’s report.After about two minutes, he nodded and clapped Matt on the shoulder.Then he walked back over to our cells.
“How about that complaint, officer?” Mullet-man asked, but Bates ignored him.
“Here’s the situation, gentlemen.By all accounts, this was a mutual assault.That means we have three options.”
“Mutual?” Mullet-man’s voice was incredulous.“No way, man.” He pointed at Matt. “That guy said he’s a cop. I wanna file a comp-”
“He ain’t no cop,” Bates interrupted.“Not anymore.So shut up and listen to your options or I’ll decide for you.My decision involves jail, not holding cells.”
Mullet-man shot me a dirty look, but remained quiet.
Bates nodded. “Good. Now, option one goes like this: you both press charges against each other and you both go to jail for assault.Any takers?”
Neither of us replied. A tickle of anger sparked in my gut.
“Didn’t think so,” he continued without missing a beat. “Option two is I take you both to jail for disorderly conduct.Anyone interested in that one?”
Again, neither of us answered.The tickle ignited into a flame. I struggled to will it down.Bates’ words were familiar, even after ten years.I couldn’t count how many times I’d used them myself to solve similar situations.
“No?Okay then, that leaves option number three.You both leave the Arena and go your separate ways.Simple as that.”
Mullet-man spoke first.“You sure he’s not a cop?”
Bates nodded.
“You could be covering up for him,” Mullet-man muttered, not looking directly at Bates.
“I guess I could be,” Bates told him.“Why don’t you come down to Internal Affairs tomorrow.Talk to Lieutenant Alan Hart.He’ll show you a picture board with every officer on the department.You won’t find this guy there.”He jerked his thumb toward me.
“Maybe I will,” Mullet-man said.
Bates shrugged.“Knock yourself out.Meanwhile, which option are we going with right now?”
“The last one,” Mullet-man said.“But this isn’t over.”
“It better be tonight,” Bates warned.He turned his eyes to me.“Kopriva?”
I slowly nodded.
Bates motioned for Matt to unlock the cells.Mullet-man exited his, but Bates held up his hand and stopped me.“You wait.This guy goes first.”He took Mullet-man by the arm and started for the door.Matt stepped into the cell doorway and handed me my jacket.
“Thanks for the rhythm, Glen,” I said after Bates, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Bates stopped and gave me a look I couldn’t quite decipher.“You used to be a good cop, Stef.Now look at you.”
I felt that flicker of anger again.“What about me?”
He shook his head.“Getting into a fight?With this guy?Come on.”
The flicker flared.“Kiss my ass, Glen.”
Bates’ face flushed. He let go of Mullet-Man and took a step in my direction. Matt moved between us.“I’ll walk him out, Glen.We’ll take a different exit. That way, you don’t have to come back.”
Bates considered. Finally, he nodded.“Fine.”He looked at me again and shook his head.“What happened to you?” he asked, then turned and walked away, dragging Mullet-man with him.
My mouth was open to reply when Matt gripped my arm.It was firm but not too hard.“Let it go,” he whispered.