87th Precinct - The Frumious Bandersnatch Part 16

Her eyes were dancing.

He said nothing for a moment.

She raised her eyebrows.

Yes? her eyebrows asked. Her eyes asked.

aIf I were to offer you dessertaa he said.

aYes?a she said.

aawould you accept?a aOr?a aOr would you rather we went home and watched you on television?a aOffer me and see,a she said.

aHoneyaa aYes, Cotton?a aWould you care for dessert?a aNo, I would like you to take me home,a she said, and smiled as if she were still on camera. aWouldyou care for dessert?a she asked.

11.

SEEMEDlike old times.

A bright morning in the merry month of May, and the detectives of the Eight-Seven were gathered in the Lootas office for a Tuesday morning confab. The lieutenant was late. Arthur Brown was telling a drunk driver joke.

aMotorcycle copas been hiding in the bushes all day, hoping to catch a speeder, he finally pulls over this dude doing eighty miles an hour in a convertible Jag. Grinning from ear to ear, the cop leans into the Jag and says, aIave been waiting for you all day long, pal.a The dude in the Jag has three sheets to the wind. He says, aWell, offisher, I got here as fast as I could.a a Brown burst out laughing.

So did the other detectives in the room.

Seven of them altogether. Six men and one woman, typical of most squadrooms in this city. Andy Parker couldnat resist trying to embarra.s.s Eileen Burke.

aAnother motorcycle cop pulls over the same drunk,a he said. aThis time the copas a female. She tells him, aSir, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be held against you.a The drunk says, at.i.ts.a a Which Eileen guessed was better than breaking into her locker and p.i.s.sing in her shoes. In fact, she thought the joke was pretty funny. After the meeting this morning, she was scheduled to interview a woman whoad been snorting cocaine since she was fifteen years old, but who was now ready to take a stand against the gang that was terrorizing her building in the projects. It was tough enough trying to quit the powder crowd. Protecting your kids against the people hoping to hook them was something else again. The woman was twenty-seven years old. She had a son of eleven whoad already been approached. Enough was enough.

aThereas this guy gets stopped by a cop for speeding?a Richard Genero said tentatively. As the newest detective on the squad, he was still not too sure of himself at these weekly meetings. But the lieutenant wasnat here yet, and everyone seemed to be in a receptive mood this morning, so he was ready to venture a joke. aThe cop wants to know where heas going in such a hurry, and the guy says, aI have to do a show in New Haven.a The cop asks, aWhat kind of show?a The speeder says, aIam a juggler.a The cop is skeptical. aOh yeah?a he says. aLetas see you juggle something.a The speeder says, aIad be happy to, but all my equipment is at the theater.a Well, the cop leads him around to the back of his cruiser, and he opens the trunk and takes out three flares, which he lights and hands to the speeder. aHere,a he says. aJuggle these!a It so happens the guy reallyis a juggler, so he throws the flares into the air and is doing his little act when who should come speeding down the highway but that same drunk in the Jag! He takes one look, jams on the brakes, walks over to the cop, and says, aTake me to jail right now, offisher. Iall never be able to pa.s.sthat test.a a Everyone was still laughing when Byrnes walked into the room. Gray-haired and bullet-headed, he walked behind his desk, said a gruff aGood morning,a and then asked, aWhatas so funny?a Genero said they were telling drunk driver jokes.

aThis drunk comes out of a liquor store,a Byrnes said, asees a motorcycle cop at the curb, writing a parking ticket. He staggers over to the cop, says, aCome on, pal, give a guy a break.a The cop keeps writing the ticket. aCome on,a the drunk says, adonat be such a friggin n.a.z.i.a So the cop writes a second ticket for the car having bald tires. The drunk calls him an a.s.shole, and the cop writes a third ticket for worn windshield wipers. This goes on for ten minutes, the drunk hurling abuse, the cop writing ticket after ticket. Finally, the cop closes his book, and says, aYou satisfied now?a The drunk says, aI really donat give a d.a.m.n, offisher.My caras parked arouna the corner.a a The detectives laughed harder than perhaps they should have.

aHave some bagels and coffee,a Byrnes said, and turned to where Carella was standing over by the bookcases with all the legal tomes in them. aWhat happened last night?a he asked. Carella told him everything that had happened to him down at One Fed Square and beyond.

aAnd?a Byrnes said.

aI walked,a Carella said.

aWhy?a aI was there through sufferance.a aSufferance, huh? Well, my beamish boy, what if I told you the Commish wants us to stick with it?a Carella looked at him.

aThis is all politics,a Byrnes said. aWe caught the squeal. If the Feebs crack the case, we look inept. If weare the ones who nab these guys, we come off smelling of roses.a aThe Feebs donat have anything yet. And neither do I,a Carella said.

aThatas why weare here today, ainat it?a Byrnes said, and turned away and said, aYou ready to listen, men?a And immediately added, aEileen?a aGood save, Loot,a Eileen said, and everyone laughed. Score one for the frails, she thought, and crossed her splendid legs for emphasis.

Cotton Hawes thought of Honey Blair crossing her legs last night.

aHereas what weave got,a Byrnes said. aYou all know we caught this friggin kidnapping Sat.u.r.day nightaa aActually, Iam the one who caught it,a Andy Parker said.

aBravo, you want a medal?a Byrnes asked. aThe Joint Task Force moved in and the vic asked for Carella toaa aNot the vic,a Carella corrected.

aRight, the CEO of the company thatrecords the vic, youave seen her all over television. He asked for Carella on the case because he has some sort of rapport with himaa aMust be the smile,a Meyer said.

aMust be,a Carella said, and flashed a toothy grin.

aAnyway, they get him down there and treat him like a country cousin, except when the CEO demands he go along on the ransom drop. Am I getting this right, Steve?a aMore or less,a Carella said.

aSo last night, when they diss him yet again, he walks. Told Corky Corcoranaany of you know him?a aA p.r.i.c.k,a Brown said. a aScuse me, Eileen.a aWhy?a Eileen said. aHeis a p.r.i.c.k.a aAnyway, Steve told him to shove his job.a aGood for you,a Meyer said.

aOnly trouble is,a Byrnes said, aI got a call from the Commish last night, soon as he heard what happened.a aHowad he hear?a Genero asked.

aCorcoran called him. Filed a complaint.a aThe p.r.i.c.k,a Eileen said.

aThe Commish agrees. He wants Carellaa"he wantsus a"to stay on it. In fact, he would like nothing better than for us to crack it. Before The Squad does.a aFat Chance Department,a Parker said. aTheyave got technology pouring out of their wahzoo.a aDidnat help them locate the perps,a Carella said.

aWhatad you learn down there, Steve?a Brown asked.

He told them about all the equipment the Feebs had set up, told them about the perps leading him and Loomis out to The Wasteland, told them about the dead Golden Retrievera aSons of b.i.t.c.hes,a Parker said.

aSo wead know theyare ready to kill the girl,a Carella said.

aCouldave made their point another way.a aThatas what Loomis thought. He still thinks these guys arehonorable, you know. That theyall make a deal and stick to it. They asked for two-fifty large the first time around, and when we delivered it, they came back asking for a mil. But he still seems to thinkaa aA milmore? a Kling asked.

aNo, altogether.a aThe girlas worth it,a Hawes said. aDid you see that tape of the kidnapping? I saw it on a large screen down at Channel Four,a he said, and grinned sort of goofily.

aWe got the MCU report, by the way,a Carella said. aThe guy was limping.a aWhat guy?a aOne of the perps. The lefthanded one.a aWell,thereas something,a Parker said.

aWe already put out a medical alert,a Hawes said.

aAnything?a Eileen asked.

aNot so far.a aI mean, how many limping lefthanded guysare there in this city?a Parker asked reasonably.

aWhoas an experienced thief,a Carella said, nodding.

aHow so?a Genero asked.

aStole the Explorer he used on the night of the s.n.a.t.c.h. Also has a barrel full of stolen cell phones. So at least one of themas a thief.a aMeans a record, maybe,a Hawes said.

aMaybe for the lefthanded one.a aWho limps, donat forget.a aAny of you guys remember a movie calledThe Fallen Sparrow? a Byrnes asked.

They all looked at him.

aThe bad guy limps. Drags his foot. Scariest scene in the movie is John Garfield waiting for him, his face all covered with sweat, and all we hear is that foot dragging down the hall, coming closer and closer.a aWhoas John Garfield?a Genero asked.

aThat wa.s.suspense, a Byrnes said. aNowadays, they put a lot of bulls.h.i.t technology on the screen, the directors think thatas suspense.a aThink we should put out a second med alert?a Eileen asked.

aCouldnat hurt,a Brown said. aAll these doctors are too busy to pay attention the first time around.a aToo busy making money,a Hawes said.

aToo busy robbing Medicare,a Kling said.

aCome on, my uncleas a doctor,a Genero said.

aAm I the only one going to have a second bagel?a Parker asked, and pulled himself out of the only easy chair in the room and went over to the table near the windows.

aSo is this ours or is it theirs, or what?a Carella asked.

aMy guess?a Byrnes said.

aGood as mine, thatas for sure.a aMy guess is itas oursand theirs.a aA f.u.c.kin horse race,a Parker said, pouring himself another cup of coffee.

aSo letas win it,a Byrnes said.

BACK IN THEgood old days, every Monday through Thursday morning at nine oaclock, detectives from all over this fair city pulled what was known as aLineup Duty.a This meant that instead of reporting to work at their respective offices, two detectives from each of the cityas squads trotted downtown or uptown or crosstown or across the rivers to the Headquarters building on High Street, where the Chief of Detectives presided over a parade of all the felony offenders whoad been arrested in the city the day before.

The purpose of these lineups was identification.

The Chief brought out the perps one by one, named the crimes for which theyad been arrested, recited a brief pedigree on each, and then conducted an interrogation for the next ten minutes or so. Most of these people were experienced thieves; the Chief didnat expect to get from them any information that would convict them in later trials. What he was doing was simply familiarizing his detectives with the people who were making mischief in this city. On a rotating basis, every Monday through Thursday, his detectives were able to get a good long look at troublemakers past and present, with the idea that theyad be able to recognize them in the future and prevent them from making yet more trouble.

Once a thief, always a thief.

Today, the police still had lineups (or ashowupsa as they were sometimes called) but their purpose was identification of another sort. Nowadays, in a room at your own precinct, you placed a suspect on a stage in a row of detectives or officers in street clothes, and you asked the vic to pick out which one of them had raped her or stabbed her or poked out her eye on the night of January fifth. Back in the old days, the headquarters gym was packed with maybe a hundred detectives from all over the city. Today, sitting behind a protective one-way gla.s.s, you had the vic, and the arresting detectives, and the lieutenant, and maybe somebody from the D.A.as Office if you were that close to making a case. Small potatoes when you thought back to the grand old days, eh, Gertie?

But nowadays, you had computers to tell you who the bad guys were. You didnat have to eyeball all those evil-doers from a hard bench in an austere gym. You sat in your own comfy swivel chair at your own cluttered desk, and you popped the question to the computer, and hoped it came up with something good.

By that Tuesday morning, not a single one of the myriad doctors in this city had responded to the precinctas medical alert for a man who might have sustained a recent injury to the right leg. While Eileen sent out a second alert, sounding a bit more urgent this time, Carella turned to the second supposition in Detective Oswald Hooperas report on the footprints the MCU had recovered aboard theRiver Princess; he considered the possibility that the injury to the right leg had occurred sometime in thepast.

The men and sole woman on the squad were now working on the premise that the men whoad kidnapped Tamar Valparaiso were no amateurs. In many respects, this a.s.sumption was a throwback to the days of the old Monday-to-Thursday lineups. See those guys on the stage there? Yesterday they committed murder, armed robbery, burglary, rape, auto theft, whatever, and it seems like they all have records of felony convictions as long as my arm here, so look at their faces and remember them well because tomorrow these same people will be committing the same felonies or different felonies all over again.

Once a thief, always a thief, right?

In America, kidnapping was rarely a crime anyone committed more than once. It was fashionable among certain criminal types in remoter parts of the world to capture businessmen and hold them for ransom, but that was there and this was here. It was fashionable in some countries to eat raw crocodile eyes, too. n.o.body on the Eight-Seven had ever heard of a serial kidnapper. You either kidnapped somebody and got away with it, in which case you flew to Rio and danced the samba till dawn, or you got caught and spent the rest of your life behind bars. Either way, it was usually a one-shot crime.

So when Carella went to the computer that Tuesday morning, he accessed the stateas prison records by typing in first his name and then his pa.s.sword, but once he was cleared, he did not type in the key word KIDNAP because he didnat think that would bear any fruit. In fact, he didnat specify any crime at all. What he was looking for was a left-handed con who limped. In fact, what he was looking for was a left-handed con whoad limped his way out of jail and straight onto the deck of theRiver Princess this past Sat.u.r.day night.

He called for a statewide search, but he limited it to just the past five years, otherwise head be here for thenext five years. He went straight for the jugular. As his key word, he typed INJURY.

Got a menu asking him to choose among HEAD, TRUNK, or EXTREMITIES.

Hit EXTREMITIES.

Was asked to choose between ARMS or LEGS.

Hit LEGS.

Knew what he was going to be asked before it popped up on the screen, and was not surprised.

He hit RIGHT.

Got a list as long as a prison night.

Head be here all next week looking through all these records, maybe five or six hundred of them. Whoad have dreamt there were so many cons with injuries to the right leg, and how in h.e.l.l was he supposed to find the man among them whoada Wait a minute, he was looking in the wrong place.

In this state, a term of post-release supervision was mandatory for every determinate sentence. For example, a Cla.s.s B felony was punishable by an incarceration period of five to twenty-five years. If you were paroled, you had to be supervised on the outside for a period of from two and a half to five years. On the other hand, for a Cla.s.s E felony, you could be sent up for a term of a year and a half to four years, but after parole, you had to report to your parole officer for at least a year and a half or as long as three years. The message was the same one it had always been: If you canat do the time, donat do the crime.

Carella logged off the prison system, clicked on DIVISION OF PAROLE, was asked for his online name and pa.s.sword, gave them STEPHEN L. CARELLA and then his shield number, 714-5632, and waited for clearance. When he was online, he asked for a search going back five years.

When prompted for the NAME of the parolee, he typed UNKNOWN.

OFFENSE?.

He typed UNKNOWN.

SCARS, TATTOOS, OTHER DISTINGUISHING MARKS?.

He typed LEFTHANDED.

DISABILITIES OR INFIRMITIES?.

He typed INJURY TO RIGHT LEG, and got INVALID ANSWER and the same question again: DISABILITIES OR INFIRMITIES?

This time he typed LIMP, and hit the jackpot.

There were currently seven left-handed cons on parole from various prisons around the state, all of them with leg injuries. Four of these were injuries to the left leg. The remaining three were injuries to the right leg.

One of these injuries was sustained in the machine shop at Castleview State Penitentiary, when the heavy metal die for manufacturing license plates fell on the inmateas foot, fracturing his ankle bone. The inmate had subsequently sued the state, Carella noticed. And lost, by the way. Head been released from prison two years ago, and had since got hit by a bus that fractured his skull and caused his untimely demise. Carella figured some guys were just born losers.

The other two men were still alive.

Carella hit the PRINT b.u.t.ton.

SHE ACTUALLYheard the key being inserted in the lock.

Heard the tiny click of the key being turned.

Heard some fumbling outside the door, and then the door opened and standing in the door frame was Saddam Hussein.

Carrying the big rifle.

None of them came into the room without a weapon. Must have thought she was extremely dangerous, handcuffed to the radiator this way. Maybe theyad caught a glimpse of aBanders.n.a.t.c.ha before they came down the stairs all macho-men, aDonat n.o.body f.u.c.kingmove! a Weapons of ma.s.s destruction in their hands. Same as now. Maybe theyad seen her reach for the invisible vorpal sword and beat the s.h.i.t out of the frumious beast.