Burying Ben (41 page)

The Com
m
iss
i
on chair hits the gavel and asks if there are any
m
ore public co
mm
ents.

“T
i
m
e is up.” I stand,
m
y pu
r
se under
m
y
ar
m
. “So, who takes the
m
i
crophone next, you or
m
e
?”

Chapter Forty

I am
awake at dawn. Long fingers of pink announce the sun as it c
o
m
es over the horizon. I bunch
m
y bathrobe closed against the
m
or
n
ing chill and open the front door. I walk down the front path in my bare feet. The
c
oncrete is cold and scratchy. A lone jogger wearing headphones and black running shorts r
a
ces past, his lips
m
oving in sync with music only he can hear.
I pull the newspaper
out of its plastic s
l
eeve. Shopping inserts and circulars flutter to the sidewalk. The front page headline reads: “Police Chief Stuns Com
m
ission with Resignation.”

“In a surprise announce
m
ent at the end of
last night
’
s hu
m
a
n
relations
commission
m
eeting, Police Chief Robert Baxter gave no
t
ice of his intention to resign im
m
ediately. Despite appearing to be in robust health, he
cited
m
edical proble
m
s as the reason he is leaving. He indicated that his
present state of health ass
u
res a full recovery from
his undisclosed
m
edical proble
m
s. He
a
pologized
for the abruptness of
his departure and assured everyone that the transition to a new chief would be swift and have no adverse i
m
pact on public safety. He left the auditorium
without further com
m
ent. Chief Baxter was seen earlier in t
h
e e
v
ening enga
g
ed in
intense discussion with Dr. Dot Meyerhoff, fo
r
m
er depart
m
ent psychologist, leading so
m
e to speculate that Chief Baxter
’
s health proble
m
s may be psychological. The city
m
anager has declined to comment.”

On the
m
orning of Baxter
’
s hastily c
o
nco
c
ted retire
m
ent ceremony I
m
arshal
m
y courage and call Ms. Hudson to inquire
about the status of
April
’
s complaint against
m
e. She infor
m
s
m
e
t
hat the complainant has failed
to respond to letters or phone calls. Relief slides down my body from
m
y chest to
m
y knee
s
. I start to thank her and she interrupts. “However, your case will re
m
ain on file for three years from
the date Mrs. Go
m
ez
m
ade her complaint
.
For future reference.”

I hang up with no clear sense of what it
m
eans to be on file for future reference. Is there a little icon of
m
e on her co
m
puter
des
k
to
p
?
W
ill she be
f
ollowing me or
f
lying over
m
y head, her pai
n
ted red talons illu
m
inat
e
d in the sun, a vulture in search of fresh carrio
n
?

The phone rings. I ju
m
p and slosh hot coffee
on the counter. It
’
s Mark calling to tell
m
e that Melinda has delivered a healthy baby boy.
W
ith an al
l
iterative flourish,
they have na
m
ed him
Milo. Mark has read this
m
orning
’
s newspaper and wonders if I had anything to do with Baxter
’
s decision to retire. As always, he hopes that we can re
m
ain friends and colleagues. I tell him
I
’
d soon
e
r be friends with Adolph Hitler.

His voice grows sulky until
h
e re
m
e
m
bers that he
’
s really
c
alling to ask
if
I’m
still
p
lanning to report him
and Melinda to the Board of Psycho
l
ogy. It would be a pleasure to deliver the lovebirds into Ms. Hudson
’
s bony h
a
nds if I could do so without dra
w
ing her attention in my direction
at the sa
m
e ti
m
e. It
’
s not a dec
i
sion I need to
m
ake rig
h
t awa
y. T
he statute of li
m
itations
f
or
f
iling c
o
mplaints with the bo
a
rd gives
m
e seven
y
ears
to
m
ake
up
my
m
ind.

Mark gives a hoarse sigh. Seven years, he says, is a long ti
m
e to have the threat of
an investigation hanging over their heads. I tell h
i
m, with absolute si
n
ce
r
it
y
, that I coul
d
n
’
t agree
m
ore. Still, Mark
h
as far worse troub
l
es to
f
ace than Ms.
Hudson. Unless I’m
way off base, and I doubt it, his future with Mel
i
nda will rese
m
ble Vinnie Patcher’s
p
resent.

I’m
t
e
m
pted to wear something black to Baxter
’
s retire
m
ent cere
m
ony as an ironic fashion state
m
ent, but I don
’
t want to further add to t
h
e travesty or give the appearance that I am mocking his downfall. I choose, instead,
m
y default gray pants suit.

People are straggling into the auditorium
and taking their seats. It
’
s 2:00 in the afternoon.
T
here are a lot of r
e
tirees in the audience, a f
e
w workers from
city hall, some reporters and a ho
m
eless
m
an who rushes to t
h
e back row with his backpack and junk
f
illed pap
e
r bags and pr
om
ptly
f
alls
a
sle
e
p.

I sit with Mr. and
Mrs. Go
m
ez and their grandchildren. She is wearing t
h
e sa
m
e clothes she wore to B
e
n
’
s funeral. I doubt this is by accident. She hadn
’
t wanted to co
m
e to the cere
m
ony after I told her about Baxter and the bri
b
e. She had wanted to call a lawyer a
n
d start a lawsuit. But
M
r.
Go
m
ez put her off. He wasn’t sure, given
Ben’s early fa
m
ily history, t
h
at they could win a lawsuit clai
m
i
ng Ben’s e
m
ployer was responsible for his suicide. Further
m
o
r
e, he thought they should direct all their energ
i
es to raising their re
m
aining grandchildren. But, out of respect for Ben and to keep his
m
e
mory a
l
ive, the entire fa
m
i
ly would attend the cere
m
ony and sit in the front row, where the chief could see the traces of Ben
’
s face in their own. They have lost a lot, these
people – a daughter, a grandson, and, in all probability, a great grandchild.

Barely ten
m
i
nutes have gone by when t
h
e city
m
anager decides that the s
m
all crowd is all that
’
s co
m
i
ng and asks us to take
our seats. There are half a dozen cops in the audience, including Manny. Bax
t
er co
m
es in from a side door and
m
ounts the podium.

He is wearing his Class-A dress unifor
m
. H
e
’
s p
l
aying this like a politician, waving and s
m
iling at
p
hantom
f
riends in the audience. No one waves back. There is the usual squeal of protest from
the
m
icrophone as the city
m
anager announces that an i
n
terim chief will be appo
i
nted within t
h
e week after which he will authorize a nationwide
s
earch for a
n
ew chief. The
m
ayor, a tall, elegant
m
an with silky snow white hair, presents Baxter with a fra
m
ed
r
esolution in appreci
a
tion of his years of service. He apologizes for the ab
s
e
n
ce of t
h
e ot
h
er elected o
f
ficials, all of
who
m
, it appears, had previously scheduled appoint
m
en
t
s they were unable to change. He bends to shake the chief
’
s hand and they pose for pictures, holding the r
e
sol
u
tion between th
em
. The photographer has to turn his lens sid
e
ways to get them
both in the fra
m
e.

It is Baxter’s turn at the
m
i
crophone. He adjusts it downward, producing another shattering electro
n
ic sq
u
eal. He ta
p
s the head of
it with his fingers and says, “I hate these things. I
’
d rather be chasing crooks t
h
an
m
aking speeches, any
day.”